There is an old Chinese saying: 不怕天不怕地只怕广东人说中国话

Translation: Fear neither the heavens nor the earth. Fear only Guangdong people who speak Chinese.

That probably isn’t funny to most of you reading this. I won’t elaborate.

Yesterday, Kevin Rudd, Australia’s fluent Chinese speaking Prime Minister, visited China and delivered a speech, entirely in Mandarin, at Beijing University. He altered the saying a little to: 不怕天不怕地只怕老外说中国话

Fear neither the heavens nor the earth. Fear only a foreigner who speaks Chinese.

He drew a few laughs. Except from me. He used the derogatory term for foreigner.

PM Rudd, a slight built man with a baby face, in speaking Chinese, was trying to say what? As a former diplomat, it’s no surprise that he can speak Chinese, but after seeing the spectacle the Chinese media made of his ability, it made me question whether it is a good idea for the head of a powerful State to speak at length in a language other than his own when delivering public remarks. Private discussions and banter with your foreign counterpart are one thing, but public speaking is another, especially in China. It reminded me of Garry Kasparov, the Russian chess master who tried to oppose President Putin. During his candidacy, he spoke to western media, in English. Putin’s people ran the clips and made him appear as a pawn of the west. Rudd isn’t exactly in danger of appearing as a pawn to the Australian people, but any foreigner, especially a former diplomat, should know how easy (read: natural) it is for Chinese to turn even a nice gesture like speaking Chinese into fuel for the propaganda machine. Something like: “the power of China and Chinese language”. That he would give them the material/satisfaction is beyond me.

While his trip was supposed to be used to talk “direct and straightforward” about Tibet, he only brought up the issue briefly in his address. Instead, he delivered a marshmallow of a speech - light, soft, and sweet. You may say that he was addressing his audience - the elite at Beijing University. But it doesn’t take a psychic or a telescope to see just how far his words were going - across China and into the homes of hundreds of millions of people. You know which parts reached the evening news, played over and over again.

Many of the world’s Presidents and Prime Ministers can speak multiple languages, including English, but only deliver official remarks in their native tongue. Partly because they are more comfortable and control that way, and partly because they don’t want to bow, in public at least, to the fact that English is the world’s language. I wonder about Rudd’s motivations. Was it that, as former diplomat, he was used to and expected to do so, or was it just a gesture? Is he a Sinophile? His background is interesting. Or maybe it’s just business? China is now Australia is largest trading partner. Last year, when he was yet to be elected Prime Minister, he spoke Mandarin during a visit with Chinese President Hu Jintao. That same day, China agreed to buy up to $45 billion of liquefied natural gas from an Australian company over the next 20 years.

There is no doubt that speaking Chinese is a lubricant for relationships, but too much and you can find yourself walking a slippery slope. Someone should tell Prime Minister Rudd that for foreigners in China, less is enough. No matter how good your Chinese or chopticks, it does not, as it may in other places, change the fundamental view Chinese people have of you or your country. As a foreigner, there is little, almost nothing you can do to change the deeply ingrained view that you are, above all, a foreigner (well, this is true), an enemy of the State, and a resource. The sooner you can accept these facts, the more comfortable you can be here. And ironically, the more successful./

But when it’s all said and done, I’d have to agree with the Prime Minister - fear not the heavens or the earth. Fear only a foreigner who speaks Chinese.

P.S. His tones are really good. I’m kinda jealous.

I can count on both hands the people in China whom I couldn’t live without. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank five of them. These guys have, seriously, gotten me through countless karaoke sessions during my time here. And maybe even laid a few times. Thanks, fellas.

Chinese President Hu Jintao lights an industrial sized “zhong hua” brand cigarette, in Beijing Monday afternoon.

Creative Credit: MS啊

“Yo, P, tell ‘em what cha life’s like”

Living in China, censorship will be a part of your daily life. Like the clouds keeping out harmful UV rays, you’ll be blessed with some dude deciding what you read when you roll in late to the office each morning. That means no wikipedia, no flickr, no blogspots, sometimes no wordpress, no typepad, no tumblr, SMS hackers*, no IHT, no NYT, no USA Today, and at times, no CNN or YouTube. Basically, all your lifelines to outside information and rational thinking. Your understanding of world events will be limited to headlines because when you click through, the page will not load. Good friends will begin copy/pasting articles into emails and msn chat windows. Books? Forget it. Your friend will ship some in, but they will be held up in customs until you provide a complete translation of them all. That, or some of those red bills.

If it weren’t bad enough that you won’t be able to access info, you’re gonna be victim of rampant dissemination of propaganda, not only from your peers but via various forms of media. During the riots in Lhasa or at other times of social unrest, that will include text messages and msn spams with warnings of Tibetans carrying bombs and machetes (ok, this will be true and two innocent bystanders will get hacked) to nearby big cities. Sometimes the information is so absurd that you’ll just censor yourself. You’ll all but stop watching TV, especially the one English language station, because the assault on common sense is too much to handle. As you understand more and more of the Chinese language, you’ll limit yourself to shows whose characters don’t start every other sentence with, “We Chinese people {insert self-praise here}.” But you’ll still wonder,’with only themselves as an audience, why are they telling themselves who they themselves are?’.

What will all this mean for your life? It means, basically, that you will be incapable of having an intelligent conversation on politics, history, and most social issues. People will say things that are absolutely incorrect but you won’t be able to argue; not because arguing over something that matters is essentially unacceptable (but sometimes it is), but because information asymmetry makes it logically impossible. To fill the void, you will have only a few options - work longer hours and try to make more money or find viceful hobbies like drinking, “soaking” mei meis, and eating unhealthy amounts of street BBQ.

But, while irked, you will be impressed. You will say to yourself, ‘the thing about propaganda is that it works’. You’ll remember Fidel’s quote: “Propaganda is the soul of every struggle” and nod your head in agreement. To control the thoughts of over 1 billion people; to have that many people, more or less, think the same thing. It will be impressive, if not scary.

=======

*You will have some friends from other Asian countries and they will tell you that the text messages sent back home - sometimes in their native language, sometimes in English - often arrive in altered form. “I love you” might turn to “I hate you” and someone might get called a “fool” instead of a “sweetheart”.

I know it’s the key to a happy life in a new country, but you can’t spell assimilate without “limits”. Here are the Assimilator’s top three ‘no-can-doos’.

1. Telling someone to “Japan your Mother” (the local version of MFer)
In my opinion, Japaning someone’s mother sounds like taking her for a nice dinner or to a hot spring. It might end at a love hotel, but I couldn’t be certain. What’s wrong with that?

2. Speaking Chinese during sex
She can say what she likes, but I’m sticking to what my tongue knows best;-)

3. The “brother fucker” syndrome (i.e. the girl I’m sleeping with calling me “big brother”)
No doubt, when you come here, you’re gonna meet some girl, fall for her, go out with her and her friends, whom she’ll proceed to introduce you to. One guy will be her “big brother”. You’ll remember the one child policy but think that her family is the exception (didn’t she say her dad is an official?) or that he’s just her cousin (they look alike, you think, but you haven’t been here long enough, so everyone looks alike). This is rational, and rationality takes precedent here, too…right? Then you’ll see them making out and get angry, drunken “western people” style angry and say, reaching for your best Chinese, but only finding English, “you….you….brother fucker!!”.

That’ll be a funny story to email your buddies back home about, telling them how you realized girls here call their boyfriends “big brother” and how you find it totally perverse. But then you’ll meet another girl, definitely prettier (you’re sure of it because now you can tell them apart), who takes you out and introduces you as her “big brother”. You’ll let her do that, and later the same night, much more. And you’ll be a victim like everyone else. Then you’ll think, ‘but my old American girl called me Daddy’, and wonder who the real perv is.

{All in Chinese}

“Introduce me to a foreign boyfriend”, my new acquaintance orders just two minutes into the conversation.

“Okay, what are your conditions?”, I inquired.

“He must be good looking, and speak Chinese, and…”

{I nod in agreement while she searches for more}

“Forget speaking Chinese, we can communicate with our bodies.”

It’s amazing how much the people here know about us. It’s even more amazing when I’m lectured on my own country immediately after I’m told I know nothing about their’s, their history, or culture. The most frequent and funniest history lesson I receive in China is on the English language - the one that says it’s only 200 years old. While I’m flattered to think that us innovative Americans could be given credit for creating and diffusing such a rich language in little more than 200 years, I’m always a bit disappointed by my counterparts who forget that what we’re talking about is, uh, Eng-lish.

“In China, adapting means living with the chaos. Succeeding means exploiting it”.

-Me

In a delicately veiled criticism of China’s sticking point, Howard French points to the alleged progress of their neighbor to the south. The article is worth reading, but from my own experience in Vietnam, I wouldn’t venture to say the people are particularly over the war, especially those in Hanoi and other northern cities. Maybe his trip offered some spectacular insights that mine didn’t, but I just can’t draw the same conclusion when, buying water or going to an internet cafe, it’s not uncommon for the merchants to look at you, look at the price posted on the wall, and then charge twice the amount. That, I have never experienced in China. But once a guy did try to charge me 2RMB for a pineapple that normally retails at 1RMB; and he did it with a warm smile

Mr. French must have come down with a case of the China blues. Expats contract it if they’ve stayed in the country for 3 consecutive months or more. The result - visiting any other country seems like a breathe of fresh air. Click the link above, or better yet, visit both countries and see for yourself.

P.S. Just to be fair, after I walked out of the Internet cafe in Hanoi, refusing to pay double everyone else, I stumbled upon another place. Confirmed the price, checked my email (none), and when I tried to pay, the woman refused to accept my money. You can never find that in China. But once I got a free lighter. But that was because my local dialect is slick!!!!

I usually can’t write about the things that manage to surprise me, but yesterday I saw a long line of people - only the fourth proper queue I’ve seen since living here - and felt genuine intrigue.

Last night’s excursion made me think about writing a club post.

Last night was weird. We had a “customer manager” at our table the whole night. It wouldn’t been so strange to have someone you don’t know there making you drink and play games if it weren’t for the fact that it was, uh, a guy!!! And at a regular club. At KTV, it’s common to have a “DJ” - a girl in a pretty dress who keeps the music going, drinks some, pushes you to order more food & beverage, etc., or even a “hostess” who personally accompanies you, but at a normal club, with a guy, it felt out of place.

That aside, clubs in China are pretty great. Some will argue against me, but let me provide a few reasons why they rock:

-There is no waiting in long lines
-No fugly dude to decide who can(not) enter
-No dress code. *my favorite*
-You can come and go as you please
-No body search. No ID check. No stamp
-No cover charge, so you can hop from one to the next
-Because there are so many, they aren’t as packed as those in the States
-Even on weekdays, the clubs are jumping
-Water is free
-Fruit and snacks
-Games, games, games, tons of drinking games
-Fights are rare

The downsides:
-The person who keeps checking to see if bottles are empty to take them away, or keeps pouring you more, or opening all the bottles at once. That’s annoying. Leave us alone. Our empty bottles are like trophies. You’re taking away from the experience! (note: once, I hid all the alcohol from the wait staff to keep them from doing this. They were going crazy looking for it.)
-Paying for tissue
-Dance floor is small, sometimes non-existent, because club managers try to fill the place with tables. The upside to this is you don’t have any wallflowers or wanderers. Which means everyone is engaged, doing there own thing, which leads to less conflict. There is no posturing and mean muggin’ like in the US. The separate tables create an atmosphere that feels more divided than US clubs, however. That said, it is actually not difficult to engage other groups for drinking or dancing
-The music is not so great
-Bathrooms are only big enough to…use the bathroom
-Things start and end really early. You can “shut it down” by staying until 2am. Sometimes this is a good thing because you have to go to work the next morning.

It affects your judgment.

Everyone has been talking about this new club. So last night we went to check it out. Upon arrival, I realized we’d been to this club once before - about three months ago - but it was too packed to play. Last night, we got there early (9pm), but it was already too crowded - no tables available. We decided to look for another place. But before doing that, I needed to use the restroom. As we crossed the toilet threshold, my friend pointed to the sign - “No Japanese allowed”, written in Chinese. And while waiting, I noticed the walls decorated with loads of anti-Japanese posters, signs, pictures of Koizumi, etc. Maybe that is why the place is so popular?

If I had to make a list of things that surprised me when I first arrived in China, toward the top would be the level of hate and obsession Chinese have toward Japanese. We all know, understand, and acknowledge the root of this angst, but I don’t know why Chinese fail to comprehend that when they go on and on and on about the Japanese, it just makes them look weak and insecure. Not to themselves, of course, but to objective outsiders. Not even being able to let go in a place of relaxation and entertainment? It’s kinda pitiful in my view. Moreover, it distracts attention and energy away from the areas where China, Chinese people are strong and (need to be) making tremendous progress.

It sometimes feels as if I’m living in a society full of accountants - viewing the world on a purely historical basis. It’s incessant. Whenever I meet someone for the first time these are the standard ice breakers:

Where are you from?
How long have you been here?
Are you studying or working?
How much do you make?
You know we (Chinese) hate Japanese.

UPDATE: Thought I should provide a translation of the parts of the picture that aren’t in English. It says, “We have more than 10 times your population. No more sushi for you”.

Sent in from an “expat DJ”. Captured on his way to work.

In fact, Southeast Asia has it all over China in the moto game. 4 is standard on the Honda motos, which are smaller than the bike seen above. I once saw 5 people sharing one in Cambodia. And one traveler claimed to have seen 6.

I meant to write about this earlier, but forgot and was only reminded of it yesterday.

I have a friend from Europe. He’s tall, muscular, and handsome. And when he works, he’s dead serious. He’s in charge of his company’s China operations, which includes a factory in a nearby city. One day, the assembly line went down, a technical malfunction of some sort. He was furious, but being culturally savvy as he is, he wanted to express his anger and resolve the problem entirely in Chinese. So he asked for a drawing of the technical specifications. In Chinese that would be “tu zhi” 图纸. But he’s local and knows that Sichuan people don’t pronounce the ‘h’, so he calls out “tu zi”.

“Tu zi! Tu zi!! wo yao tu zi!!!” （The specs! The specs!! I want the specs!!!)

But the problem is, when you take out that ‘h’, if your tones aren’t correct, the meaning altogether changes. What does it change to? In this case, 兔子, which means “rabbit”.

As the workers looked on dumb founded as my friend yelled for a rabbit, one found the courage to speak up and ask for clarification. A small girl, nearly half his size, with both hands forming “peace” signs, gave herself bunny ears and asked with a curious smile:

“兔子?”. (rabbit?)

Cute beyond all belief. The little girl’s also a cutie pie;-) She took a liking to me. Following me around and generally shadowing my pattern of childish behavior at WF’s Mom’s birthday celebration.

Nike’s baby! That’s me on the far left, a beauty in the middle, and WF on the right (he took the pic)

This is my co-worker, ZJX. She is soooooo….taken. What a pity, right? This is at the company party after a lot to drink.

Yesterday, over the course of 10 hours, we drank 5 bottles of bai jiu and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. And felt fantastic. I know it seems like we drink a lot but…that’s because we do. Drinking in China is arguably more important than speaking the Chinese language, especially if you don’t speak the Chinese language. In fact, it is a language all its own. If someone tells you drinking doesn’t matter I would say that they are either 1. ignorant or 2. ignorant. Doing business or connecting in China without drinking is like turning door knobs without a thumb - it can be done, but

inefficiently and very awkwardly.

So, some tips for those of you ready to jump head first into the performing arts.

1. Fat is your friend. It absorbs alcohol. The meal will start with a toast. Your stomach is probably empty, so if you’re not used to drinking you may feel a little warm. No problem. That’s like the first injection of gasoline into an engine. Start me up, baby! I digress. The next matter of order is to layer your stomach with enough fat/meat for the blitzkrieg of toasting that is about to commence a few minutes later. Don’t be shy. Go for it. Also, the lining of the cow’s, pig’s, etc. stomach/intestines is your good friend.

2. Don’t mix bai jiu with Soy Milk, Juice, Soda, or other beverages served. It’s tempting because they counteract that God awful taste (see #3 below), but the result is serious, something from your 10th grade chemistry class. The only exception is tea. But don’t drink too much. Just sip, baby!

3. Don’t taste. I had an awful gag reflex to bai jiu before I learned that it ain’t meant to be enjoyed going down. Fling it to the back of your throat and swallow quickly. Don’t let it hit your tongue. This will increase your drinking capacity 3-4 fold.

4. Use the small cups. They allow you to do #3. If you drink from a regular glass you will taste more than you want. Avoid use of such cups when possible.

5. After finishing the bai jiu someone will likely suggest ordering beer. As tempted as you are to trade in for that familiar taste…don’t do it. You’ll likely have no say in the matter, though. Just be careful. It will fill you up and spit you inside out! If you really want to take my advice, just go on about how much you love Chinese bai jiu and would like to drink one more bottle.

6. If you are in a private room with more than one table and you know there is a guy that has taken a liking to you and likes to drink with you, do not do anything to draw attention to yourself. Not only will he call you over to drink with him, but also a couple times with his associates. That means, and I say this from experience, don’t stand up to go to the bathroom unless you really have to.

7. There is no shame in throwing up. It’s like hitting the “refresh” button on a slow loading web page. A few moments later and you’re ready to go.

8. Be careful of women. They are like little mercenaries sent to kill you softly. Seriously, guys bring girls just to make you drunk. How? Well, they will either 1. drink juice while you drink fire water or 2. drink a sip while you drink the entire cup. How can they get away with this? Well, for one, they are beautiful. And they smile, pout, shout, and then tell you how amazing you are after you drank that entire cup.

You’ll likely encounter these women when dealing with the under 40 year old business men. The older guys (40+) will likely not have women with them. If they do, it will be their wife, whom is almost certainly not a crazy mercenary drinker. You should toast her out of respect. It doesn’t matter what or how much she drinks. You drink alcohol and drink it all. She probably won’t toast you back.

In dealing with the young ones, just stand your ground. Smile, say something witty and, if your me, flirt.

9. Smile. When done properly, it can make folks drunker than any amount of alcohol.

And some etiquette…

If the relationship is not yours or introduction being made on your behalf, allow the “leader” on your side to initiate the first round of toast, then follow in order of your side’s ranking.

Toast the highest ranking person first, then work your way around. They will, in turn, toast you. Just remember, the amount you’ll have to drink will be the number of people x 2 (plus some for good measure), so pace yourself.

With the exception of the first and last toast, drinking is almost always done 1 on 1. Don’t try to be efficient and kill two birds with one stone. That is not taken well.Stand up. But let the higher ranking person, especially the older guys sit. Actually, make them sit. When it comes to the younger guys, though, I think it is better to go toe to toe.
When you toast, be sure to place your cup at a lower level than your counterpart (if he/she is of a higher rank). If they try to go lower, you go lower. Go to the table and if you are good friends (but not anyone else) and want to be drunk and stupid, the floor.

Hold your glass with two hands no matter how small it is. One hand underneath and the other as you would normally hold a glass. Note: this is super formal and not many people do it.

干杯 (ganbei) means “dry cup”. Drink it all. That means every last drop. And make sure your counterpart does too. If he/she doesn’t, don’t be afraid to call his/her bluff…unless that person is of a higher rank than you, a new relationship, etc. If you really want to be respectful you can tell that person to drink as they please even though you are going to drink a full cup.

An experienced drinker always has a cup in one hand and the bottle in the other when he is making his rounds round the table. Refill the glass of your counterpart before your own.

If someone is refilling your glass, hold it with at least one hand (two is more formal). If it is sitting on the table, tap your middle and index couple fingers twice on the table as a way to say “thank you”. Or at least sit upright and put a hand on your glass while they pour to show your paying attention and don’t regard their effort as that of a waiting staff.
Do not “accidentally” spill alcohol. That’s weak and totally not cool. If you really are to your limit, then just smile and say “In a moment” or “I have to take a rest”.

As I wrote “highest ranking” it felt weird. It’s not as hierarchical as it may sound. The atmosphere is actually very casual. But to be clear higher rank = this guy is significantly older than me, is the richest guy, the boss, the birthday girl, or just the person who is paying the bill that day. That person will likely have the power seat, the one farthest from and facing the door.

People will say and do a lot to test you. But it’s only that, a test. One reason is to see how much you can drink. The other is to measure your capacity to listen to sometimes completely absurd bullshit. But it’s basically like a kid tapping on the cage of a snake. Don’t take anything, good or bad, too personal. Always keep in mind the person who brought you into that relationship. That is your main priority, to make him/her look like they made a good judgment.

That said, you also don’t want to be a show pony. For this reason, I often don’t initiate toasts with people unless the relationship is really important or I am already close to them. And even when I receive a toast, I don’t always return it. I can get away with this because people just figure I don’t know the SOP. Use your professional judgment. Drinking in China, like many things here, is a performing art, but you must maintain a sense of self-respect. Don’t lose yourself in the character. Some say don’t play one at all.

Especially for Americans, Japanese, and Koreans, always remember that no matter the name you introduce yourself as, whether it be the one your parents gave you or the corny one you made up with other foreigners in your Chinese class, you are not yourself. Your face is always painted in the colors of your national flag. Think clearly what you want to represent and pursue that goal relentlessly.

Along the same lines, you don’t want to pigeon whole yourself as “a good drinker” or “the foreign friend”. Not only will it cause significant harm (short and long-term) to your body (people will be calling you every night to go drinking), but more crucially, to your reputation. You want people to like you and feel close to you, but most importantly, view you as a good (business) person with ideas that are trusted and respected. The alcohol is a liquid. It’s a river. The glass is your boat. Let it carry you to your destination. Do it with good manner and style and get off when you’ve arrived.

Perhaps the most enriching part of living in China is being able to interact with the generation who grew up during the Cultural Revolution. Most who I can “touch” are established business people, say the owner of a small factory, real estate developer or construction contractor. None of them received a college education and many never graduated from High School. Self-made, they are newly wealthy but maintain the roughness that got them where they are today. A map of China’s modern history is written on their faces, hidden beneath their fingernails, stuffed in their pop bellies, and exposed in those charmingly imperfect grins. They are concerned with money, but not so pre-occupied by it that they neglect other issues like politics and “culture”. When they tell their rags to riches stories, they speak in terms of decades. You listen as hard as you can to catch their words before they are washed by any interpreter. They are funny and direct. Warm and open. Pure, but definitely not innocent. They are startling different from the generation that followed them.

Smoking while eating is like refilling a glass of water. Over the course of a 2-2.5 hour meal, it can easily happen 10 times.

Liu Zong and I

XW and I walked into KFC (not my idea. I haven’t eaten there since I arrived. And even for a long while back when I was in the States. It’s even nastier here than in the States. The meat, I mean. Sides aren’t half bad, though). It was packed. I saw a girl, clearly a foreigner, sitting alone. We made eye contact and I smiled at her. She smiled back.

We went to order. Ordered. Standing, waiting, a presence behind me. “Are you from Russia?”. Uh, no. I asked where she was from. One of the “stan” countries in Mid-Asia. Was it “kazakh” or “kurgi”? The accent was thick. She looked Russian to me. What are you doing in China? She works in a hotel. And then, literally no more than 20 seconds into the conversation…

I have a big problem. My boss won’t let me leave the hotel.

Click. Imported sex worker. Serious, this was my train of thought.

What do you mean? She means her luggage is there but she cannot leave. Her contract is expired. She has her passport. She wants to go to another city where her friends are. She “can’t live here”.

Okay, how can I help you? I had to be somewhere and she didn’t seem in immediate danger so I traded phone numbers and agreed to be in touch. I contacted her later that night via short message. She called me back. My phone is still broke. Cannot hear the other party. And I’m with other people, so I couldn’t talk at length anyway. Tell her to message. No response.

A few days pass. No contact. I send a message. Tell me your problem. An immediate response. I have no problem. Thank you.

Updated for clarity.

Here’s a conversation I had a while back. I’m just listening.

I can, to some degree, accept, or at least understand, ignorance toward other cultures, but not toward one’s own. I got into an argument with a girl who told me “Asian” people weren’t as sexual as “Westerners”. I said, “India has over 1 billion people. You guys (China) have even more”.

She smiled. And took off her clothes.

Now, part of this story is false.

That’s right, I never mentioned India.

你好！新年好！

I’m back from Spring Festival. WF welcomed me to his hometown, Pengzhou, about an hour away from Chengdu. The city is small, with about 700K people. The experience was one of the greatest I’ve had outside of the States and definitely since being in China. Not only was I able to experience the new year, but also join (not watch) a wedding. And I rekindled my off and on relationship with bai jiu (Chinese white wine - nasty as hell, but a great result). Just can’t keep her at bay. We ate and drank in excess the whole time. One night, at home, we had 14 dishes on the table. 13 of which were meat.

The night before the wedding there was a party. There was so much food that we were literally stacking 3 levels of dishes on top of each other to fit it all on the table. Most people ate quickly and left because, saving themselves for the next days festivities. Not us. All the guys went to karaoke and finally to xiao kao (outdoor BBQ), where, after absurd amounts of drinking, I gave a toast: “Brothers drink until we throw up”. I drank and immediately threw up. We slept for just a few hours that night.

The best way I can describe the wedding is…..CRUNK! All the guys gathered at the groom’s house at 7AM. We set of fireworks and decorated the cars and then went to the bride’s house. Her friends try to keep the groom out, so we have to help in bust in. First the apartment building door, then the apartment door, and finally her bedroom. It’s super exciting. Finally he grabs the bride and carries her to the living room. They offer his parents some tea and then he carries her away. More fireworks. Back to his house for the offering of tea to the parents. It sounds formal but it’s not. It’s fast and casual. Only the bride, groom, and best man were dressed up.

By this time it’s about 930. We eat something. I have to go to the bathroom. The restaurant is basically a converted storage space behind a cinema. No bathroom. But a public one is available. No stalls or doors. No problem. I choose the 3rd space from the door. Opening the door gives a clear shot at me. A guy is already in #5. He finishes and as he walks out spots my face. He’s so surprised he stops in his tracks and stares at me. I smile like, yeah, we handle business just like you. He smiles back and walks out.

At 11 we arrive at the restaurant where the wedding is held. Outside, the groom greets everyone with an offer of 2 cigarettes and the bride with 2 pieces of candy. She lights your squares. You give a red envelope of money if you didn’t already the night before. 12 noon, it starts. All the guys line the aisle. We have these huge “poppers”. They come walking down and we explode these things all over. At the same time, fireworks that are lining the aisle shoot in the air. We’re inside, though! And no one expected it, so people are like WTF?!, moving their chairs and jumping out of the way to avoid catching on fire.

Complete rowdiness. I love it. They go on stage and offer the parents tea and receive red envelopes of money in return. They say a few words and that’s it. It’s kinda hectic because all the groom’s friends are crowding the stage, so most people probably couldn’t see. It’s was not what I would classify as romantic, but was definitely fun. I want one like that. Just a big party.

Then we sit down to eat. Everyone is so spent from the night before and the morning rush that it’s touch to tackle the food and bai jiu that are waiting for us. Finally, one guy says, “he jiu?” (drink?). We all nod.
Other highlights: I played ma jiang and then got angry when they wouldn’t let me gamble my money with the pros. I didn’t know WF had told them not to let me. haha. I drove in China for the first time. I bought new jeans. I grew my beard the whole time. And a lot of other things I can’t put in writing. Check out some pics courtesy WF.

Me, Ma, and WD

Da Ma Jiang

A walk in the park. WF, WD, and me.

Me, LL (groom), and WL (bride)

Love, Love, Love

Going for the wedding candy on a string.

Trying to eat, drink.

Me and HL drinking tea.