Always Carry an Umbrella

Over the last couple of weeks I have learned a few things about living in China.  First, you always need to understand the Chinese Way.  Secondly, nothing is ever as it seems and you will frequently be pleasantly surprised.  Finally, always, and I mean always, bring an umbrella.

After I finish class or at the end of my day Kelsey and I usually go in search of food.  There are restaurants everywhere, but we have two that we particularly like.  Mrs. Yang’s noodle shop (this is not the title, but it is a noodle shop and it does belong to Mrs. Yang) and another little restaurant owned by a couple on the opposite side of the school.  On a particularly nice day after one of our first few days in Lidu (Lidu is a kind of suburb of Chongqing where our school is located), the other two boys, Matthew and Michael, and Kelsey and I decided to go out for dinner.  It is pretty cheap to go out and get food and because all of the food tastes so good here we often go out to eat.  We ended up at the couple’s restaurant and it started to rain.  At first we were unconcerned because it did not seem to be raining that much and we figured that, by the time we had finished eating, it would stop.  We were wrong.  In fact, the rain continued and got even harder.  The husband, realizing our predicament, gave us an umbrella.  Luckily the rain slowed down as we were leaving.  The boys, always interested in exploring new places, pointed us to a bar nearby and said that they had been there before and that it was a good time. 

It was not a good time at all.  Kelsey and I were immediately met with what looked like a bad disco from the seventies.  There was an empty dance floor/stage to our right and centered in the room with a pole set of to the side.  On our left was a bar and near the bar there was a young man sitting on a stool with a microphone singing.  To the singing man’s credit he was not that bad.  There was a cigarette haze that became heavier as we ventured further into the room.  Kelsey and I immediately sat on some vinyl seats in a booth while the boys got drinks.  Shortly after we arrived, it was around 9 p.m., the few young women that were present all left.  Kelsey and I were left sitting there while every man in the room stared at us.  Kelsey speaks absolutely no Chinese and the boys were occupied at the bar.  This left all conversation to me and boy did those boys try to have conversations.  Let me just say that I now understand why young women do not go to bars in Lidu.  We stayed for a short period of time and Kelsey and I explained to the boys that it was time to go home.  They finished their drinks and we left. 

I wish I could say that everything got better after we left, but it didn’t.   It was pouring rain and pitch dark.  We had one, little umbrella and the minute we stepped outside we remembered that we did not know our way around yet.  Fortuitously, two young women took pity on us and helped us find our way back.  One of the more pleasant surprises of living in China is that someone is always willing to go out of their way to help you out.  By the time we arrived home, all of us were sopping wet and shivering.  However, we did make it home and from that point on, I make sure to always carry an umbrella wherever I go.