There are a ton of donkey restaurants in Beijing; apparently it’s a Hebei thing. It had been on my dwindling Beijing to-do list for a while, so this morning I went to get 驴肉火烧. Contrary to what I was told, it turns out that donkey sandwiches are not a breakfast food, so I’ll have try again tomorrow.
Today I brought in a bunch more things I couldn’t return or didn’t use up. Here, have some conditioner I didn’t like, and some q-tips. Seriously, I give the best gifts.
I also brought in the rest of the s’mores ingredients. I just realized this morning that they have bunsen burners in the lab – we could have been eating s’mores all day err’day!
Prof. Feng’s son came in to the lab today and ate lunch with us. He’s a sophomore or junior in high school and is taller than me – a veritable giant. Zhao Yan asked him if his biggest problem is that every girl likes him, haha. He’s tall, left-handed, and was born in Germany (while Feng was doing a post-doc at Dusseldorf) . . . an eerie number of similarities with my own brother!
I made a complete mess of myself while eating watermelon today. We have watermelon after lunch and dinner about 87% of the time. I’ve easily eaten more watermelon in two months here than I have in the rest of my life combined. Unfortunately, watermelon is not my talent – I just can’t eat it without getting soaked. But, I have my own gifts. My labmates here (like people everywhere, really) are fascinated by my extraordinary talents at sleeping and frowning. Sleeping and frowning are my talents. Today I learned how to turn pictures into stickers, so now I can send my frown in WeChat messages with one tap!
It was supposed to rain today at noon. Of course, my weather app has said this literally every day for the last two weeks. Around noon, it says in the morning. At noon, it becomes 1; at 1, rain is predicted at 2. At some point, they give up and say, it will rain tonight. I think we’ve had rain twice since it began this game two weeks ago – basically as accurate as a broken clock. Today I taught my labmates the phrase “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.” And they taught me a word for liar: 啃爹.
In the afternoon, Prof. Feng asked if I would like to join the meeting with a visiting professor that Zu Yan is going to work with next month. Oh man, that was the most awkward meeting I have ever been in. I tried to break the ice by speaking English with him as they set up, but he didn’t seem that interested in talking to me. Then, Prof. Du and Zu Yan presented, both in English, which I’d never heard either of them speak. They did a good job, although their work is definitely outside my field and I couldn’t do much more than smile and nod. But the visiting professor had arrived in China two days ago and was obviously not over jet lag. He couldn’t stay awake, which led to long silences as they waited for him to wake up and answer a question of theirs. There were also weird moments when he was asleep, I didn’t know what they were talking about, and I wondered, if you speak English and no one understands it, does it still make a sound?
At various points during this, Prof. Feng answered the phone, printed off a short story for me to read, and gave me a gift of tea and showed me how to steep it. Aaah it was so awkward.
Afterwards, Prof. Feng suggested that I present. So I also got to experience the awkwardness of speaking English at a sleeping American while a bunch of Chinese listen. He seemed interested when he was awake, though, and we ended up speaking at length about the EAPSI program, and my experiences in China.
After me, HaoYuan and Chang Zheng talked about their research on spider silk. It was also the first time I’d heard them speak English, although to be honest, it was about the first time either of them had talked to me except for that graduation dinner. When I told them tomorrow is my last day, they seemed sad to see me go. I’m not sure why, but I guess that’s cool?
Today I finally gave out the Stanford shirts I brought from home. I probably waited too long to do this, but I was waiting for a time when all the people I wanted to give them to were there, and no one else, which never happened. I also underestimated the number of girls that would be in my lab, and how small they would be. Sigh.
Zu Yan wanted to take me to get donkey to thank me for helping her with her presentation, but she took too long so I went with Zhao Yan instead. It was good – the most similar thing to a sandwhich or taco that i’ve had here in China.
Zu Yan joined us at the donkey place. She was exuberant, having finished finished the English presentation, and wanted to celebrate. She wanted to play mahjong, and I was definitely in! We coerced Zhao Yan into joining us (Zu Yan s a social instigator like me, so he really stood no change), but that still left us 三缺一 (three, missing one). Luckily, GuoYang was done packing and agreed to come over.
We went to a mahjong place near the south gate, a pretty seedy place, the kind where you could picture opium being smoked. (But only cigarettes were smoked. I am very sensitive to cigarette smoke, but when I asked about it, Zu Yan pointed to a No Smoking sign. As if that meant anything . . . It struck me as a very Chinese response, to defer to the official word instead of conceding to reality.)
We were in a little room with a table – the coolest table I’ve ever seen. It’s an automatic mahjong table – you press a button in the middle and a circle rises up, revealing an opening under the table. You shove all the tiles in there, press the button again, and the circle lowers to close the table. While the tiles are swished around underneath, shuffled and restacked for you, a new set rises up out of the table. Within seconds of finishing a game, you’re ready to play the next one. It’s only good for one thing, but it does that thing perfectly.
The rules of mahjong vary across China. Zu Yan is from Heilongjiang and GuoYang is from Chongqing, so they first had to agree on rules – the simplest, I think, for my sake. Even so, mahjong is definitely the hardest thing I’ve done yet in China. Part of it is that I had to learn the rules in Chinese – my brain works slower when it has to process two things at once, like language and logic. Another reason is that mahjong does not follow the some of the basic rules that most games I’m familiar with do. For instance – play moves counterclockwise, which never stopped confusing me; you can form series (123 or the like in the same suite) but not sets (111 from different suites), and even then only ever three in a row; and there are multiple ways to win (in our “simple” rules, either four sets of 3 and a pair, or seven pairs).
The worst part was that, by the time I got my tiles flipped over and arranged in some logical order, a few tiles had already been played, and they inevitably included one that I needed. They were going too fast for me, although they said they were actually playing slow!
Zu Yan, bless her heart, kept trying to help me. She’d look at my tiles sometimes and offer advice. Often, the advice would include assessing the tiles that other people had already played, so as to not give them what they want. I laughed so hard at this. I literally hadn’t looked at another players’ hand in several games. I was barely holding it together at this point – I did not have the brain power to even consider the other players.
The low point of the night was definitely when GuoYang asked if I had won, and was right. I hadn’t even realized! He couldn’t even see most of my tiles, just guessed based on the ones I’d picked up and how I had them arranged. How embarrassing.
The high point of the night was when I won the last hand on my own!!
if I never hear 国洋还是郭洋 (guōyáng or guóyáng?) again in my life, I will be happy.
Once they asked me if recognized the characters on the tiles 發 and 萬. They’re traditional, but also really common (the simplified forms are 发 and 万 – much easier!!). I introduced them to the phrase, “bitch, please”.
Also GuoYang is really good at mahjong, which was annoying, so I taught them “Who invited him?” He was really really good, and I was terrible, so I almost taught them “rage quit” as well . . .
GuoYang called the direction of play “inverse clockwise”. I laughed. Counter clockwise, I said. Would people understand me? he asked. Yes, they’ll understand, but they’ll laugh.
I made a joke about us being 赌博的读博的人 (gambling PhD students). It’s funny because the two words, “gamble” and “PhD student”, are identical except for one tone. See, this is the humor only foreigners like me can come up with, because we play fast and loose with tones.
We stopped playing around midnight or one – that table makes it so easy to play without noticing the passing of time! I still had to pack after getting home – I’d been hoping to be able to take my extra luggage to the lab tomorrow, but I’m going to have to make an extra trip. As it was, I didn’t get to sleep until 3am.