A week in ancedotes

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.