Feb 20th - Mr Lonely, English Only

I've felt a little bit isolated on a few occasions on my trip to China, but it's mostly been when I'm sitting with a large group of people around the dinner table. There'll be multiple conversations flying around the room, and being limited to the English language, a little bit of bastardized Acadian French and a hazy B+ in Grade 12 Spanish, I'm usually left to my imagination to pass the time, or I resort to my 2 old friends, food & drink. My wife, bless her heart, can only translate so much for me, and when she's taking part in all 15 conversations simultaneously, it's hard for her to stop everything and translate word for word to me. No fault of hers, or anyone's other than my own, really. If I wanted to avoid this situation, I would have taken the time to learn Mandarin like a good little globetrotter, but I didn't, so there.

Today is a little different. I've been left alone before, that's been established, but never physically on my own, like now. My wife and Mother-In-Law decided to have a little mother-daughter time, like I'm sure all mothers and daughters do. My wife was all set to visit her mother's office at city hall, abserve her working, and then they planned on going out for dinner, just the two of them. I'm not sour about being left alone at home. On the contrary. I'm glad for them. Since my wife has lived on her own in Canada for nearly a decade now, I'm sure they have some catching up to do. Understandable, perfectly understandable. They don't need me to much it up and ring up their dinner tab. Besides, I wouldn't be completely alone. The maid was home, and she was going to make me dinner later.

Now, what the hell am I going to do to amuse myself all day? I thought about going outfor a walk, but then I pictured myself getting lost, so that notion passed. I learned how to say the name of the park across the street from where we lived so in case of an emergency, i can just hop in a cab, say the name of the park, and hope the driver a) understands me; and b) takes the direct route, and not the "let's rip off the foreigner" extended tour. Maybe I'd better stay inside, just to be safe.

I started reading a book I brought along with me, but I got a little bored of it eventually. I've been reading quite a bit on this trip, actually. I started out with The Catcher In The Rye, but I cheated, because it was a book on tape; then I read July's People by Nadine Gordimer, a book about the turmoil in South Africa; then I read In Our Time by Ernest Hemmingway, which I really liked. It was a fairly easy read. All short stories which were kind of connected but not really; then yesterday I read The Moon Is Down by Steinbeck, and just today I started A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. I've read it before, but it's the only book I have left, so I started it. That's probably why I got bored with it, the fact that I've read it before, I mean.

I hung around the house and did some more reading, then flicked around the tv. As you can probably tell, I was vegging out today. I smelled the early signs of dinner, so i was in no hurry to go anywhere. You know when the cook starts preparing dinner at 3:00, it's gonna be a good one. It's really odd, having someone cook & clean for you. My wife calls her 'sister', but they aren't related or anything. She's a live-in maid, and that's really all I know about her. She's under 5 feet tall, and smiles a lot. She speaks no English, and can just barely pronounce my name. Like most Chinese people I have encountered, the 'th' in Nathan gives her trouble. I don't mind though, because I have trouble saying her name too. There's a part that sounds like 'dz' but not quite. So our relationship is pretty simple. i eat her food, thank her, and we go our separate ways. She's a dynamite cook though, and I think she really likes to see people enjoying her food. She must like me then, because I always pile it in.

After dinner, I flicked on the tv again, and started to watch soccer. Sports are my one sanctuary on tv over here. I don't really care what the commentator is saying either, I just make up my own. "And Big head passes over to Sprinty, whose father is a butcher and married a girl with a peg leg, who then passes over to Red Face, who is stopped by the goalie, Blackshirt." The game is part of the East Asia Football Championships, which I gather is some sort of tournament played between the various countries that make up East Asia, with the winner being declared champion. The particular matchup is China vs Japan; a big-time rivalry in these parts that is played out on many a ping pong table and fencing uhhh fence regularly. Japan is wearing blue, and China is in Red. Of course China is in red. They probably wouldn't agree to play if they were asked to wear any other colour. I think it has something to do with those little red envelopes you see them handing out at new years. They must collect them their whole lives, and make a soccer jersey out of them when they turn 21.

The score was 1-0 Japan, and it was almost half-time. The Chinese team wasn't getting many chances at the net, but then again, neither were the Japanese. It was pretty even, mostly back & forth in the midfield. I had already missed the only goal. Half time came, and there were a lot of commercials for Nike. One had David Bowie singing in it. I thought that was nice. Good for his bank account anyway. After commercial-fest, the game was back on. This time, the Japanese were charging the net, going after the insurance goal. They looked like they were going to score, but then a single play changed everything.

On an odd man rush, the Chinese goalie kicked the Japanese striker right in the heart. You could tell he was trying to plead his case, while the Japanese player lay there in a heap. Eventually he was carried off by stretcher-bearers. A yellow card came out, and then the game started getting chippy. I counted 6 yellow cards after that. 4 for China and 2 for Japan, and there was almost a scrap in the final minutes. The Chinese team was clearly frustrated. The Japanese team continued to pour it on though, nearly scoring twice.

The final whistle blew after about 4 minutes of extra time allotted for injuries, both real & fabricated, and it was a win in the books for Japan. They cut to an interview with one of the Chinese players, who got all mad and stormed out. They never did talk to anyone from Team japan, or at least they didn't show it. I guess since it's a Chinese tv station, CCTV I think. I imagine they accused the Japanese team of cheating, or summed it up as a near-victory. The Chinese seem to have a lot of national pride, but I don't think they enjoy being defeated by Japan.

I pictured the tv show Iron Chef, where they usually have a Chinese chef vs a Japanese Chef, and how the food always looks way too complicated to eat. They should try combining soccer and Iron Chef sometime, just to see what it does in the ratings. Instead of a yellow card, the refereat would hold up a knife, fork, or (gasp!) the dreaded chopsticks, which signals that he has indigestion, and one of the dishes he ate is about to be ejected.

My wife just came home, and not a moment too son, I think. I was just about to charge at the maid and kick a watermelon at her, which is the secret ingredient of the first half. We definitely need a refereat to explain all the rules for this pseudo-sport I just invented. You see what happens when you leave me alone for too long? Progress, that's what. I'm not lonely, I'm just temporarily insane! Now pass the bowl, I'm going in for the scone.