To the beat ya’ll

Our eyes were glazed over from the liquid bread, or maybe it was the tears we were both holding back. I’d be leaving for Japan soon, but she still couldn’t understand why, probably because I was yet to give her an explanation. But now was the time. I am a direct and simple man, but also gentle, so I explained in the best (and only) way I knew how:

Because they’re asses are so clean

I love TOTO. If you go to a so-called nice restaurant, your first stop should be the restroom. If they ain’t rockin’ TOTO, then they get a big NONO. Once you know what a clean ass feels like, you will go to great lengths to not return to the (dare I say it) dark side.

An article about Japan which, surprisingly, never mentions Japan.

From my favorite “DJ”, the man who makes the ladies really earn their money.

“a man without a big belly is like the heaven without the stars”

I’m focused. I put my ear phones (I hate calling them “buds”) in, have the iTunes playing, and I’m not gonna leave this computer until I’ve squeezed every last detail from last night’s debauchery into this entry. It’s 9:53 AM here. I’ve been thinking since last night about how I’m gonna preface this entry, but no suitable means came to mind, so I’ll just jump right in to describing another classic Chengdu night.

Yesterday was some festival. I don’t want to sound like I don’t care, but I’m not going to Google the name and copy/paste details to pretend like I knew what was going on. And I don’t feel bad about that, because when I asked locals about the history, meaning, etc. I got competing accounts. I think there’s a “zh” in the name, and I know it includes dragon boat races, because I saw them on TV in the morning. Here’s what I got from locals: There was a poet, or maybe he was a warrior, maybe both. He either fed the fishes or was fed to the fishes, maybe both. Either way, he ended up dead and in the river. This is all B.C. So, hoping that the fish won’t eat his body, people bring food and place it in the river on this day each year. I’m just wondering what the fish are supposed to do the rest of the year.

That’s like only feeding me on Thanksgiving…Anyway, the food is this sort of rice ball - same shape (not actually a ball, more of a triangle) as the ones you get in Japan, but wrapped in leaves (maybe Lotus) instead of plastic. The rice is super sticky and there are some other ingredients that make it a brownish/grayish color. I think you can eat this anytime of the year, because I had it a few times before. I didn’t try it today. But I did eat “yadan” / duck egg. Just think of a hard boiled egg, I think soaked in something for a long time, so when you peel the shell, the outer white of the egg is black and the yolk is green. This is a variation of “pidan”, which I read is an egg soaked in horse’s urine (locals can’t confirm that). Pidan is quite delicious, but the yadan we ate wasn’t as good.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and I hear a “psss pssss” from XW. “Get on MSN”, she tells me. I log on and she asks if I have any plans tonight. I say no and she invites me to go for dinner with her and some University ‘mates. Then, she tells me, we’ll go to the river to make a wish.

Skip ahead to around 6PM. ZY and OL, both colleagues, will join us. We head outside. CJ, one of XW’S friends is waiting for us. We start to walk. I have no idea where we’re going. After 10 minutes of walking I realize they’re trying to catch a cab. Catching a cab in Chengdu at 6PM is like catching one in NYC when it’s raining. I see a foreigner waving at every (occupied) cab driving by. Must be a rookie, I thought. You gotta hustle here to get a cab. What’s that? Oh, no, I wasn’t hustling, but the girls were. No matter, it still took us 30 minutes of walking before we finally got lucky - a cabby let out a passenger on the same corner we were on. We took a 10 minute ride, got out on a busy street, and made a b-line for a side street. CJ asked me if I’d been here before and I said no. After 10 minutes of walking, I saw the restaurant which, indeed I had been to once before. XW’s other friend, TW, was waiting for us.
Not to hold myself out as some kinda expert, but I know one thing about restaurants in China. It’s damn hard to get kicked out, especially at the local places. But most have never encountered the wrath of my friends powered by baijiu and beer. And this place was about as local as you can get. How local? You call for the waiter to order and he throws down his pen and pad and tells you to write it yourself. It was packed, so we waited another 10 minutes to get a table. Waiting is not very common here, so you know that if people are waiting, the food is delicious. And for this joint, spicy. The food is from a city in Sichuan called Zigong. Chengdu people love to think there food is spicy, but it’s nothing compared to the Zigong dishes. Last time we came, FB let out a tear when he tried one of the dishes. Anyway, confirmed this food is spicy and delicious. Just not sure if it will be both when it comes back up.
Anyway, we took our seats at a table outside. At this point there was 5 girls and me. Heaven, right? Hmmm…you know they have a saying here in China. Something like: one woman is equal to a 1000 ducks. All that chattering in local dialect had me dazed and confused, so I asked for a beer. They said we should order 2 because they wanted to have a glass also. Cool. We ordered the food and a few minutes later, XW scouted out a group leaving from inside the restaurant. I prefer eating outside, but I figured that the girls wanted the A/C. Cool. We went inside and, again, had to wait for the table to be cleared, cleaned. While we waited, I noticed (they were impossible to miss) a group of 12 guys in the corner - loud loud LOUD. Drunk, drunk, drunk. This is quite common….and super fun to be a part of…some people, however, become annoyed at these types…if they aren’t drinking themselves. I don’t mind being on either side…when I’m not one of them, I try to let them make my experience better instead of ruining in. It’s all in the perspective. I digress.

LYM (friend, colleague) and LL (XW’s friend) arrive. LL is a girl. LYM is a guy, so I feel some relief. We pour them each a cup and the beer is gone. We order four more bottles. The food starts arriving. The girls start toasting each other….alot…they start challenging us with an attitude that seems more Shanghai than Sichuan. I didn’t want to drink a lot today, but I can’t refuse a lady. The beer is gone. We order more. The girls are ALL tipsy. XW orders baijiu. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Why did you do that? But this isn’t some stuff out of the bottle. This is out of a jar. Homemade, scooped out with a cup into a small pitcher. Think moonshine. It’s serious, but a little sweet. Not as killer as the stuff that got HJ and I in trouble. Anyway, we toast the baijiu, I say “suai le”, some local dialect for “all the way”, but I was just kidding. Everyone knew I was kidding, except LL…or maybe she didn’t care. I saw her cup empty, so I had to oblige…and so did everyone else….okay, I feel a little buzz now. Just want to eat, though…

But the girls won’t stop drinking, toasting. More beer is ordered, in larger quantities. I think they are going a little overboard, so I start to drink half of their cups, kinda like Zhao Min did for me in the club. It doesn’t matter. The baijiu is gone. XW orders another pitcher I know where this night is gonna end. As the blood-alcohol of the girls increases, so does their voice, audacity, etc. They are easily surpassing the level those 12 guys were at.

As is customary, I sometimes take some food from a dish and put a little into someone else’s bowl. Not just for politeness, but maybe because a dish is far from them. LL kept toasting me, so I figured the only way to curb her enthusiasm would be to get her to eat, so I took some dish, maybe shui jiao (boiled dumplings) and put it in her bowl. She responds with something that causes everyone to burst out laughing. It’s fast and local, so I can’t catch up. She says it again. Everyone is losing it, almost rolling on the floor…except me. I don’t know what she said. translate dammit, translate!!! In true 辣妹子 “la mei zi” style, she said “You didn’t give me enough of your meat”. haha…

Things escalate. The girls start throwing things. First, it’s just dirty napkins, but by the end, an entire fish (no meat, just the skeleton). I got napkins in my face…cool…but I got the fish to the crouch…not cool…but funny….they are super split. They’re at the point where they start to “accidentally” spill drinks when they pour, toast. Yeah, you guessed it, I got spilled on…baijiu to the crouch…not cool…but funny. They start feeding each other soup with the huge soup ladle. Everyone is staring intensely at us. I had scouted a group of girls at a table near ours - 4 of them, no guys. I had an excuse to go over to talk to them in Chinese. I saw them about to toast each other, so I stood up and walked over….with my fishy crouch. Hell hath no fury like the wrath of XW….”What the fuck are you doing?”, she said. I’m just toasting them…excuse us for being so loud…she was pissed at me…More beer is ordered.
LYM doesn’t speak a lot of English, so he reaches for his cell phone, types into his dictionary, leans over and says (while showing me his cell phone screen), “we need this!”. The word???? “Control”. At this point, we were quagmire status. We were the only two not drunk.The only feasible exit strategy we had was to pay the bill. I wasn’t about to go the typical route of fighting for the bill. 6 drunk girls fighting for the check??? I went to the boss and asked for the bill. 288. I was 30 short, so I asked LYM for cash. He only had a card, so I had to ask XW. That got the others involved…and then the fight…not over who would pay, but if we had been over charged…all of them grabbing for the invoice, scribbled on a white piece of paper, lines crossing things out, tick marks. True auditors. I thought about HJ’s story from another Zigong restaurant. He asked how much for the beer. They said “si kuai”. 4 yuan, right? No, 10 yuan. “Shi”, which is 10, is pronounced “si” in Zigong…lol…ZY paid and we went back to the table…I tried to take a gulp of soup from my bowl, but there wasn’t much left. No worries, XW can help me with that. She took the entire pot of soup and dumped it into my bowl…yes, overflow.

I forgot, in the middle of the dinner, OL had to go back to the office, so I sent her off. I’d heard that OL could drink, but the only other time we’d been out together was at a KTV, and I left after one toast, so I didn’t know if the reports were true. But, sure enough, she is a good drinker. I was impressed.
Back on track. LL had passed out in her chair. I went over to check on her and blaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. She threw up on the floor of the restaurant. The restaurant boss and staff were losing their patience. Cleaning up fish and soup from the floor is one thing, but most people make it to the bathroom for the big blaaaaaaaaaaah. I need to use the bathroom myself. As I walk over and see the men’s is occupied, I alter my destination: the women’s room. As I am about to enter, the door to the men’s opens and it’s XW. We pause, make eye contact and exchange a “ga”. I continue to the women’s room.

LYM and I each take an arm and carry LL out of the restaurant, across the street. On the way…blaaaaaah…all over my shoes. We’re still walking and a taxi pulls up. We call for him. One look at us and he speeds off. Another comes. He stay a bit longer, but takes off once he sees what he’s really dealing with. LL is on the curb, near a drain just in case. Another cab. No way. Finally, after three tries, one accepts us. Me, TW, XW, and LL will take this one. I have no idea about everyone else. Open the back door. I had to (literally) throw LL into the back seat. You know how those guys bust down doors with those tree trunk shaped battering rams. Yeah, like that. One, two, throw…then I had to get in and drag her the rest of the way. XW is in the front seat. LL is laid horizontal across the back seat on top of TW and I. She starts to throw up again…all over the back seat…some of it ended up on my shoulder…I don’t know how.

We arrive at our destination. They tell me, since there is no other guy, I have to carry her on my back. Can you picture it? You know, I don’t bring my camera out often and I don’t really regret it. But if there were ever a time where I wish I’d had photos, tonight was it. She was dead weight, not able to wrap her around arms or legs around me, so the task proved quite difficult. Think of Chen Hao Fat(sp???) in that dead guy movie. Making our way across the street, the cabbie pulls back up…XW left her keys…nice guy…

We make it to her gate, security guards staring us down. We knock over a chair and make it to her building’s entrance. A pretty girl with her dog is coming out as we are in the door way. !!!!she starts talking English!!! so annoying. Why? Because she starts to lecture - can’t you get them to help you, referring to the guards. Calm down, purty lady. wo keyi…keyi…I make it up three floors to her apt…we lay her on the bed…we have her shoes…she’s about to hurl again…i grab a bag and get there in time…

Now XW is sick…frequent trips to the bathroom, but refuses to puke in the toilet. This has to be a pysche thing. I’ve always been miffed when I see puke in a sink. What’s up with that? You can’t flush a sink like a toilet. LL is put to bed, mumbling a bunch of things…

The night is not over. XW, TW, and I head to the river. We arrive and are welcomed by other drunk people. A girl on a moto scooter completely crashes. No one helps her, so I run over to see if she is okay. Once I go, another guy comes over. Minutes later, I see this girl sitting alone with her head down. Then I see her arguing with the guy that had came over to assist before. He was sitting on the moto. My guess is that they’re a couple. She tried to steal his moto and crashed instead. Later, he road off. She reluctantly followed on her pedal bike. She was cute, too.
Anyway, I was confused and thought that everyone was going to be throwing those rice balls into the river so the fish could eat, but I didn’t see any. Instead, I saw paper lotus flowers with candles inside floating everywhere. Also, some paper lanterns. XW started to feel sick again, so we sat down. CJ appeared out of no where. Then her and TW disappeared together. I sat there with XW and watched a group of beauties standing nearby. TW and CJ finally reappeared, this time with candles and paper lotus flowers in hand. I was instructed to write my wish on the flower, place a lit candle inside, and let it go into the river. Problem was: we had no pen. Solution was: I went to ask for one from the beauties. No problem. They obliged after confirming I would return it (does this look like a face that would steal anything other than your heart, ladies?). I brought them a flower and lit candle for their trouble.

We were lighting twenty of these things between the four of us, laying them in the grass before we set them afloat, so everyone was staring at us. Some guys said something about “foreigner”, so I gave them a local “ehhh?” and a “I understand” in Chinese. Later, these same guys said something else about “foreigner”, so I told them in Chinese “you are a foreigner”, but actually I messed up and said “your foreigner”…maybe they thought I was flirting. Anyway, TW had a camera, so we took some pics of the candles/flowers and also of each of us setting them in the river. I tried to write some wishes in Chinese characters, but I failed miserably.

Finally, we took a cab home…

All this…on a Tuesday.

Me in the “lotus” pose and a “not mine” black purse

The pose is not my idea. From left to right: TW, CJ, XW

Ever since I read an article about a medical study that linked Alzheimer’s to deodorant use, I’ve traded in the risk-free 10 strokes on each pit and started hedging my bets. When I wake up, I consider the following factors and adjust (accordingly):

the weather (more for hot, less for cold), where I am going (more for the club, less for sitting in an office), what I am wearing (more for less, because funk escapes through short sleeves), who I am meeting (more for girls, less for guys and/or people I already know), and how I am traveling (less for A/C car, more for public transportation).

My funk fund is outperforming all the major indices, but sometimes I have a bad day. Like today. I never expected the 30 minute bus ride with XW and WF in the middle of rush hour to go eat some 串串. The bus was packed!!! I didn’t want to reach over that girls head, but I needed to grab onto the bar. My t-shirt sleeves kinda rolled up onto my shoulders, exposing my 沸きが “wakiga”. She had her hair in a bun, so it was totally rubbing against my sweaty pits!!! I really did feel for her.

Preface: Something stupid is always coming out of the mouth of someone, foreigner and local (I give you a sample in the travel essay below. More will follow when I’m inspired, but this time I want to focus on those frisky foreigners) alike. I give less room for stupidity to expats because they have the luxury of having access to more sources of information, not only through the media, but more importantly, through their own experience. Comments from both sides typically highlight some alleged (and irreconcilable) “difference” between “us” and “them”. I must spend half of my time dispelling cultural myths about “westerners”, Americans, Chinese, and even Japanese. I spend the other half of my time perpetuating them. I embellish a little here, but it’s only because you want me to. Enjoy.

If you wrote a book about your life, would anyone read it? I heard someone say this when I was in high school. Ever since, I periodically ask myself this question. And if we’re talking about my time in China, the answer would be an emphatic 当然！

In just a short time, I already have enough to write a book on my experience living and traveling in China. And I’m confident people (outside my immediately family) would read it. In Chengdu, a city which despite a booming 10 million people, is known for it’s calm and cool demeanor, even when my experience is not fast, it remains furious, and intense.

The title? Shades of gray? Absolute relativism? Beautiful Country?

No matter the title, I would try my hardest to leave out the superficial (though damn funny) observations that expats typically spew. I’d also try to avoid those faux stories that travel writers always include in their pieces. You know the MO - old, new, change, tradition, culture, struggle (read: exaggeration, over indulgence, did they really visit or just read a novel?) First, some of that sort (completely off the cuff), then some expat conversations overheard while sipping greenteanis on The Bund (no joke). Finally, after a lot of reading, some solid observations that are both telling and funny, and best of all, from the locals.

I arrived in People’s Park around 1PM , just as most people we’re finishing their modest portion of rice, fried vegetables, and meat. Some had already began their post meal stroll, while other skipped it altogether for a siesta. A while later, groups of old men in “Mao jackets” reconvened to play mahjong and sip leafed tea out of clear glass cylinders, while women danced to the er hu (think Chinese guitar), eyes to the sky watching kites flown by grandsons and grandpas, symbolism of the newfound opportunity that the next generation has at its disposable. In the background, simultaneous de/construction, yin and yang, a dichotomy, dialectical materialism that Marx could never have envisioned. Calls on mobile phones, checking on Shanghai stock exchange accounts - up and down and as unpredictable as the jumping bubbles of hong tang at a hot pot restaurant. Just outside the park, construction cranes moved like dragons overhead, while young buys and girls affectionately held hands, window shopping at the Cartier store which lays in the shadow of Chairman Mao’s outstretched hand (is he waving for a taxi or reducing the order of countryside time to 5 years?).

Li Feng and “Angel”, a couple, both college graduates now working for MNCs - representatives of the emerging middle class - flip through Chinese versions of Vogue and Cosmo in between sips of their lattes at a Starbuck’s around the corner. All this after a trip to the temple to offer prayers to their ancestors. Later in the day they’ll make a trip to their “laojia” or grandparent’s home, where they’ll be all filial piety because “…we’re Chinese. Unlike westerners, we love our parents and know it is our duty to take care of them. We’re just so different from them. So we bring them fruit and stuff. I mean, a lot of things are changing right now in China and we just don’t like all that Western influence. Right, baby? We’re never gonna change.” On Chinese history, we got the following; “Huh, 6-4, what’s that? You mean a 69? We tried it.”

I digress. Back to my Tyler Brule-esque writing.

Each week creates a generation gap, but the space, like the air, remains filled with the fragrant spices of fresh dumplings cooked in the woks of street vendors (editor’s note: yeah, I know, dumplings aren’t cooked in woks), while the heart’s of the people remain filled with desire for a better tomorrow.

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AND NOW A COMPILATION FROM EXPATS…
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Chinese people push and the buses don’t have air-conditioning. They need to learn some manners from US. I try to teach them by putting “qing” at the beginning of everything I say.

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Nothing is in English, how am I supposed to get around?

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I feel so stupid for ever buying a DVD in the States. Never again. Long live the Pirates of the Eastern Hemisphere!!

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Why so loud on the cell phones? I thought Cingular had bad service. Their connections must be worse.

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Loud, noisy. Bones everywhere. Homeless (animals) begging for food. Spitting. It’s great, let me take you their on a date.

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Do you speak English? I want dumplings.What’s the Chinese for that?…da pu ling. Do you speak English?

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They’re staring at me, I guess because of my blonde hair and colorful eyes. You know they love foreigners.

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I said “she she” and bowed, but he didn’t respond in kind. You know they hate foreigners.

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I got lots of guanxi because I ganbei’d these guys last night.

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The bathrooms…

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I’m so multi-cultural/cosmopolitan/international because I write a blog in English and pinyin and Chinese characters/hanzi/汉字.

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The traffic is crazy. The bikes are everywhere. The cabbies drive crazy. But at least they know where their going, unlike those f`*%s in NYC who can’t get anywhere, even with a GPS on their dashboard, which, by the way, is more an ashtray than anything else (credit: FY).

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Dude the girls love me, but I think it’s because of my passport and because my English is totally fluent.

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I was surprised so many people have dogs for pets. I guess it means everyone doesn’t eat dog?

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The babies pee and poo in the street. I’m totally jealous because when I did that my Mom was super pissed. I guess it’s the one child policy thing. They don’t wanna be too harsh.

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I’m totally adapting. I ate chao fan three times yesterday and I even squat on western style toilers at the upscale restaurants. I bask in the glory of leaving sole prints from my Prada sneakers on those white porcelain TOTO rims. Did I mention that I ask for extra MSG?

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I only spent $1 yesterday and I feel good. The UN needs to revise that whole poverty measurement of living on less than $1 a day means your poor thing.

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Yeah, Beijing, NYC, Tokyo, London, Shanghai, the same.

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I was pissed. Why is it a surprise that I can use chopsticks? If I told a Chinese in the States that I am surprised he/she could use a knife and fork, I’d be on the bad end of a lawsuit or PR campaign from one of THOSE organizations.

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My doorman said that most foreigners don’t even say “zao shang hao” to him in the morning. He’s really great. I teach him a new English word everyday.

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Local places? Sure, I can suggest a few. Bob’s Burgers. O’donnell’s Pub for happy hour. Tuesday nights are the air guitar competitions. I was knocked out in the first round, but I was cheated by Jim from Intel, so I’m boycotting the rest of the tourney.

For a date? Impress the chicks and super size at Mickey D’s or get the meat lovers at Pizza Hut. Show your international flavor with a trip to RenminRupee. Those guys serve some killer curry and they play Bollywood movies on the big screen (point out Aishwarya Rai or Amir Khan and she’ll be impressed. Bust out your Punjabi dance and she might leave your ass). And show that your down with her culture, too - go to Dico’s.

Saturday morning? Brunch, definitely at Sara Beth’s Kitchen. Huh? No, not the same as the one on the UWS. You know, this is China, it’s a boot leg version. The girl who runs it used to go to NYU. French toast is friggin delightful.

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Two expats, one from Australia (Tom), one from Ireland (Liam), meet (through their Chinese girlfriends) in Shanghai. Here’s their conversationT: 你好。
L: 你好。{exchanging handshakes, smiles}
T: 高兴。（happy to meet you)
L: 高兴。 (happy to meet you)
L: 你叫什么？ (what’s your name?)
T: 我叫Tom. 你呢？ (I’m Tom and you?)
L: 我是李风。(I’m Li Feng) <–kinda like Liam???
T: 真的吗？你有中国的名字？(Really? You have a Chinese name)
L: 对对。(Yeah, that’s right)
T: 好的。(Nice)
T: So, Lily tells me that you’ve lived here for 2 years now. You must really like it?
L: 三年。 我真喜欢。我爱中国人。 (3 Years. I really like it. I love Chinese people)
T: Are you only going to speak in Chinese?
L: 当然。我们在中国对把？ (Of course. We are in China, right?)
T: Yeah, we are in China, but I thought since English is our native language, then maybe we could…
L: 不对 (You thought wrong)
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Tea and Johnnie Walker? Wine and Pepsi? Dude, that was culture shock right there.

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Yeah, I mean, I thought Chinese people and Japanese people were the same or like, you know…you don’t?… You know, because of the whole writing thing…the characters. But I guess it makes since, I mean Americans aren’t Mexicans after all, and we both use letters. And like British people, too. They wear skinny shoes.

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Yeah, so “Asian” people aren’t all the same. That’s a little different than what they told us growing up, but it kinda makes sense. You know “North Americans” aren’t the same either. I mean, I’m not Mexican, you know? And those Canadians, well…besides the health care thing and Tom Green, they can’t really compare…

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What do they mean “the West” or “Westerners”? Don’t compare me to those Americans. English people have history and culture and sophistication, and we speak real English. We can say “booty” without blushing. Americans? Just Bill Clinton. I mean, we were colonizing folks before Chris Columbus was a sparkle in his Daddy’s eye. And London is taking over NYC as the financial center of the world. Anyway, we colonized Hong Kong now look at them.
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FINALLY, SOME GENUINE GEMS FROM LOCALS

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“China: Survival of the meanest”.

“China: where hookers and Doctors drive the same car”.

{Over large sums of food and alcohol served by under 18s from the countryside}”Welcome to the third world.”

“Q:What’s your definition of middle class? A: Something like a group of people who are not merely struggling for survival, but have the opportunity that will allow them (or their children) to move into another social class…all this on their own free will.

Right, so there is no middle class in China. Their is an upper class and a lower class.”

From the mouth of ‘face

“Explain to me what Italian-American culture is. We’ve been here 100 years. Isn’t Italian-American culture American culture?”

-Al Pacino

The Moleskine has not been replaced by the mobile. Some bits from the pages of my black book.

TV in Japan is definitely the best. A couple of examples:

1. Professor derives a formula that proves you can find the most beautiful woman in any given country by finding one beautiful one and then asking her to introduce you to someone more beautiful than herself. Do this 14 times and you’ll have her. These two woman, sisters (and hideous looking), tried it out in India. First woman was super hot…the quality was really declining, picking up only a little on numbers 10-12. Finally, 14 was hot, but still second to the first, in my opinion. Only on TV in Japan. Also, these sisters go to “the best Indian restaurant in the world”. The guy makes this super huge piece of naan (no, not dosa, I know the difference). He tried to hand feed one of them and she totally gets the “kowai” face. Classic.

2. Wasabi is a root, basically. It gets turned into that green paste by being ground against a rough surface, traditionally shark’s skin. Yeah, you guessed it - a show’s host chartered a boat, a fishing crew, and caught a shark, pulled it halfway on board, straddled it, rubbed wasabi on it until it turned to paste, let the shark go, and then ate sushi (with the wasabi). Classic.

3. Classic beauty playing a school teacher. 3 young guys from uber-famous j-pop group SMAP playing students. Electronically monitor her heart rate while each student takes a turn trying to seduce her, in line with the teacher-student role play theme. Highest heart rate wins!!!

And everything has an えろい element to it, which you gotta love. Sooooo addictive!!!

The bento boxes that mothers make for their kids are fantastic. Super creative. Makes me really wonder… a brown paper bag, half-rotten apple, PB&(no J) sandwich, and 25 cents for a chocolate milk…is that what you call love, Ma?????AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

Wondering: Can the appearance of a person, food, building, etc. nourish us?

On time: Everyday, 430 AM delivering the papers…hear the motor scooter vrooming up. stop, kickstand, opens mail slot. squeak. needs oil. speeds off. all less than 7 seconds.

Are the women too perfect? A local said it: like vegetables growing indoors.

Living in NYC is like lying in bed with the woman you love - you don’t wanna get out. You think it is the best there is to offer…and your right, but…

Tokyoooooooooooooooo: the love that was lost or that never was in the first place?

Kinda sorta.

I know you’ve heard it all before, but in Tokyo, the mobile phone けいたい電話 (”keitai denwa”) is your everything. Email, texting, IMing - all with cute emoji (emoticons) that express more than words/characters ever could, frantic business research on the net (paid ¥5000/month for unlimited access but used ¥700000 worth - that’s getting your monies worth), train schedules, coupons, pictures, games, watch, alarm clock, voice recorder, calculator, music player, and sometimes your (read: my) only companion.

With no regular access to a proper PC and Net connection and always trying to stay outside of the house to see as much of the city as possible, my keitai became something else: a temporary replacement to my Moleskine, which usually acts as storage for all my random (and not so random) musings. The Notepad function became invaluable to me, housing a lot of ideas and observations from my time in the City of Benevolence. Once I returned to China, I powered-off and threw the phone in my drawer. After losing the key, finding the key, and finally opening that drawer today, I turned my phone on and was reminded of some classic Tokyo moments. And here, in no particular order, I give them to you.

The fifth (forgotten) of the “5 things that make us thirsty post”: Taking a bath/soaking in onsen

From Narita to Sangubashi station: My schema is all fcuked up! Hot J girls. Umbrellas. Asahi. Guys with make-up and cool hair. Suits!!!! Vending machine as a psychological tool. More hot J girls…sleeping on the train as a birth right.

Walking from Sangubashi station to the flat: People/Places with whom/where you experience a great deal of pain become those which you are most attached to.

Shinjuku (Kabuki-cho) observation/advice: If you need to have a drink immediately before or after doing it…don’t do it

Lifestyle versus Lifesubstance

Something like: if you want to see the real power of Japanese women, you must watch them during one of two national sales that falls just after New Years.

In Japan, people won’t always speak the truth, but they’ll always tell it.

Quote of the year: “Long time no see(seduction)”

Take a number: Yeah, we are ALL WAITING here TOGETHER about to do the same thing. So don’t be shy, just enjoy this feeling. Yeah, it’s my first time, too. No, really, it is.

Pleasantly disappointed with Chinese food in the US. I haven’t experienced a single taste here (China) that I did at home…and I’m not the least bit upset.
The people you should be weary of:

1. Girls who pluck their eyebrows and pencil in (note: girls who thread and/or wax are okay)

2. People you’ve never seen angry. People you always see angry.

3. People who charge a lot for either Indian food or Chinese food. And even more so, those who charge for rice. Rice should be something of a human right when it comes to dining. I got got charged 10 bucks for rice at an Indian joint in Midtown. The worst is when people are like, “would you like rice with that?”. I’m like, “Is this an Indian/Chinese restaurant?”. I digress.

4. People who don’t write (borrowed form IL)

5. People who walk far in front of those they are with. Remember: to lead, walk behind.

6. People who don’t use lamp shades

7. People with loud cell phone rings

Old women can be quite rude, always pushing on the train.

The East begins/ends with Japan. The West with USA

A foreigner asked me for the new south Shinjuku exit. He looked rushed and worried. TI pointed him in the right direction. He ran. It was raining. We were heading the same way. Saw him. He was meeting a girl. Reminded me of my own advice: first thing you do when arriving in a new country? Map? No. Exchange money? No. Get a girlfriend? Yes. The caveat: don’t fall for the first one you meet.

Advice for foreigners: “You might be offended. Remember, this is from another country. It’s like social studies”.
“Mindlessly Busy” courtesy of VL

“Who Dares, Wins” courtesy Brits

ML into a lovely smile that’s blooming. And it’s so clear to me that here’s a dream come true.

Fame Is (put this on a t-shirt)

Fab made a trip to Xian this weekend to check out the terracotta soldiers. He snapped some great pics. I’ve included a few below.

Ran across this pic - one of my favorites - and wanted to share. Haircut. NYC throwback. I learned “gaman dekimasu ka?” (can you be patient?) that night, among other things.

Our friends across the pond have a “Britain’s Serious Fraud Office”. I’m just curious if there is a less serious fraud office?

From the most fabulous guy around…

“yesterday i was around the city for work
many piaoliang girls with really invisible shorts
chengdu girls are trying to make me crazy”

Something like, “the elevator stopped”. Less than 5 minutes ago I was in that bad boy.

After lunch, those elevators can get packed. I crammed in, the last person, maybe 14 of us altogether. We don’t make it to our first stop before there is a jerk and stop in the elevator. You know, like the kind you see in the movies where everyone looks up and screams. Everyone gave a big 啊啊啊 and the guy next to me started hitting the emergency button. Few seconds later we were moving and the doors opened on 12. At this point, everyone was like minded, and quickly filed out, opting for some post lunch fitness on the stairs.

The water guy is waiting in the office right now with two big jugs of water. I’m debating whether or not it would be too weird to offer him a cup of water.

Wait, now another water guy just walked in with two big jugs of his own. He just changed the water and took the empties. The other guy, looking a little perplexed, has started talking with him…this is real time people…

The second guy left…first guy is using the phone…”wei…{cannot understand)…guodong…{cannot understand}…hao…hao…{cannot understand}”…the other line is ringing…he has to hold………..he’s still holding, the OL is on the line…this guy is ripped from carrying water…he’s staring at the fish tank…”zai jian”…she’s off the phone…he got a receipt and left….so anti-climatic….wait wait…the OL is running after him…{15 seconds elapses}…she’s back…yes, anti-climatic…

This is the high point of my, your day…

In other news, I accidentally approved a bunch of spam comments, so don’t be surprised if you see Viagra ads in the comments sections. I don’t really approve of them.