Dear All, tales of
my rather splendid time in Shanghai are on temporary hold as I wish to share
with you the week that I have just had the pleasure of passing through. All in
all an average week but with a few small occurrences that I hope you will enjoy
:)
The
Market
I have taken to
frequenting a large undercover market near the Bond Institute to fulfil my
various fruit, veg and unidentified animal body part requirements. ( I lie, I
can now identify 'intestine' after a good ol' miming session with the butcher).
In any case, we have now reached the point where the stall owners now recognise
me (although I am one of about five westerners who come in each week, I ignore
this fact and continue feeling special). Our chinglish banter is improving; I
think I have successfully commented on the weather and received a socially
correct response. I am an Englishwoman beginning to feel at home.
Yet, despite the
increase in communication I am baffled by the fact that, without fail, upon
approaching the stall and selecting one choice veg, I will be offered a
cucumber. Today, out of curiosity I bought the damn thing, expecting fireworks
or at least a hidden message on the inside a la Davinci Code. But so far, nada.
I'll put it in a sandwich tomorrow and see if I sprout wings. I will keep y'all
informed. Something interesting may turnip.
I don't mean to be
going on about vegetables shallot ,so we
shall move on…..
Church
Yes! I found a
church within the backstreets of Xiaolan and headed over for the first time
Sunday past. I was greeted at the door with the usual stares, but they were
soon replaced with beaming smiles and a fair few 'Welcome to our Church!'s. I
was handed a clearly never-used Chinese/English Hymnal to match the rest of the
congregation and a Chinese/English bible. Lock, stock and two shiny books, I
was ready for Church.
The building itself
looked (from my more limited experience)
to have a sort of Baptist set up. Squarish room with overhead balcony seating,
Chinese Gospel Choir (in robes!) and a wonderfully friendly pastor(?) who appeared
to be a Chinese Kevin Bacon. I muddled my way through the service, belted out
the hymns (in English) and desperately wished that I knew more Chinese as
everyone else was laughing along with the pastor who clearly was giving the
sermon of his life. Bu hao, must try harder.
Delightfully, once
the service had ended, I got a tap on the shoulder to find that Raya (one of
the three women I had met in a bakery [and later gone for tea with]) also
attended the same church! I feel like a know people here now. Life win :)
Before I move on I
would like to share with you two rather strange (and one quite touching)
Church-related occurrences:
Whilst I was still
living in Guangzhou I asked a college of mine where I might find a Catholic
Church within the city. She eagerly replied that there was, in fact a Catholic
Cathedral (the biggest in China) with services in English. Still quite gutted I
never got to go. Anyway, she had visited it herself a few weekends ago out of
personal interest as she 'Wanted to do good, but didn't know why', so was
hoping to look into the Christian faith to see if she could find some
direction.
The resulting
conversation was like nothing I had ever had before. After all my life living
in an environment where every person you meet knows (or think they know) at
least the basic ins and outs of your religion, I was suddenly faced with the
question 'So what is Christianity and what do Christians believe in?' from someone who had no real
pre-conception of what they were asking.
After talking
through some of the basics it became apparent that she had actually attended
mass in the cathedral .
Get this: she was confused about why she had
been given 'a snack' halfway through the service.
Well, the
conversation petered out after I took a little too long to recover from a bad
case of the giggles, but it did give me a few things to think about!
Second story: A
friend from Xiaolan was kind enough to drive me out to a beautiful peoples park
the town over to enjoy some long awaited sunshine. We explored a Buddhist
temple within the grounds of the park and after answering some of my questions
about the incense and the prayers that people were saying, he asked me if I
knew any Christian prayers. I began to recite the Our Father, but he stopped
halfway through to ask if I was rapping :) HA!
Gym
After a couple of
months, the full effect of enjoying and stuffing my face with delicious Chinese
food hit. Hard. Taking leisurely cycles around the town was not quite going to
cut it in terms of an exercise quota. The quest for a gym began.
I enlisted the help
of one of the Chinese teachers to quest with me- mainly because she knew where
the darned place was. She pulled a face, pinched an inch and proclaimed that
she probably should exercise too. She hopped onto the back of my bike and we headed
off into the town China-style. Halfway through the journey she put an arm
around me to steady herself as she rode side-saddle and began to giggle.
'Amber, what's so
funny?'
'Hehehehe! [She
pinches my stomach as I am bent over riding] I feel better now- because you
have one too!'
Ta love.
Anyway ,onward to my
wonderful new world of aging treadmills and dubiously numbered weight benches.
I appear to have
collected a gaggle of gym buddies who watch my every move. They are all
strapping young men (with the exception of one older man who seems to own
nothing but tiny shorts) who insist on walking around topless at all times;
quite frankly, I have no problem with following suit and scrutinizing them
equally. For tips on better form. Obviously.
There is a sort of
gym-dad who pops over now and again to make sure that I am doing everything
right. The problem is, however, that he doesn't speak word of English and my Chinese is dubious at
best. The combination of gym-dad and the gym gaggle came to an interesting peak
earlier this evening when gym dad pottered over to instruct me on the finer
points of some machine. As we peered at each other through mutual
misunderstanding, the gaggle ambled over to add their spotty English to the
mix. We were quickly joined by the gym receptionist who translated the
encounter. After a successful communication, gym-dad and receptionist returned
to their posts and I was left alone with the gaggle. It was like a social
Mexican stand off until I shot a 'Shma?' (What?) across their bows, to which
they responded with shrugs, smiles and the sure promise of more shirtless
sit-ups. Thank you boys!
More adventures to
follow.
P.S. Until further
notice, I will have to make up for the
lack of pictures with vivid, varied and vigorous descriptions. A new camera is
being scouted.
