I was at a dinner last year. We were all red faced from too much to drink (nothing new) and a new acquaintance made it a point to put me on the spot (nothing new). Somehow managing to herd the attention of the other 15 or so people, he begins by telling me that he already knows (nothing new) I don’t know much about Chinese culture and history. But he’s not mad or even disappointed. As the self-appointed Minister of Culture, he was there to help me sort it all out. He asks what he can help me understand. Of course, I could care less about dynasties and revolutions. I paused, inhaled the second hand smoke of “Pride” cigs, and asked why, with so many fucking mosquitoes, aren’t there any screens on the windows.

mei banfa