Good Night, Sweet...

So, a few weeks back, when I had only been in China for about a week, I was scheduled for a medical exam. This is required by the Chinese government ostensibly to ensure that I don’t bring any harmful diseases into China. I’m not really sure why they schedule this exam so long after my arrival in the country, since I (or anyone else traveling to China) could have breathed on as many Chinese people as I wanted to in a week, though I have a sneaking suspicion that they’re more likely to give me a disease than I am to transmit something to them. Anyway, this exam was scheduled for the morning of my day off. The only stipulations concerning the exam were that I be present at the school in time to catch a ride to the hospital and that I not eat anything before the exam.

My days off happen to coincide with the days off of one of the other teachers here. Leo is one of the British teachers who works for English First and probably knows the most Chinese of all of them, even though he hasn’t been here nearly as long as some of the other teachers. I’d been hanging out with him and one of the other American teachers quite a bit, so he knew I might be up for a drink or two the night before my day off. Of course, Leo talked me into going out for a couple of drinks by assuring me that we’d be back at the apartments in an hour or two. Like the big idiot I am, I believed him. This was my first mistake.

So we went to one of the bars that all the English teachers in the city seem to frequent. It’s an Aussie bar that’s actually not too far from the school. Leo and I showed up, and it just so happened that a bunch of his friends from one of the other English companies in Wuxi were there. What a coincidence! It also just happened that two of the other teachers were leaving the next day to go back to the US, but not until later in the afternoon, freeing them up to drink the night before. More than a few pints later, we actually did head back to the apartments. However, Leo insisted that we go out for a few more drinks with the other teachers. Foolishly, I figured that I could always take a taxi back to the apartment whenever I wanted. This was my second mistake.

We met the other teachers at another bar that many of the English First teachers go to often. This bar stays open as long as there are customers there, a feature that can be convenient for customers and quite lucrative for the establishment I would think. Chinese bars definitely have that over most American bars. We ended up playing quarters and a variety of other games. I soon reached that point in the night when you think that if you go back home and try to sleep before you need to be up and ready to go, there’s absolutely no way you’ll actually be up and ready to go. So the only logical thing seemed to be to just go ahead and stay up all night. This was my third mistake.

It would seem that this was not the first night they’ve all done this, as they knew of a breakfast buffet that the Sheraton hotel has at about six in the morning. We headed for that on foot and arrived shortly. I have no idea why they admitted our little pack of loud, drunken foreigners, but they did. I think they have to work under the assumption that we’re guests at the hotel, which would explain why they asked us what room we were staying in. We told them some nonsense and went back to annoying the other guests. I got to watch as everyone shoveled massive amounts of food into their faces. However, because I had been told that I couldn’t eat before my medical exam, I stuck with some yogurt and coffee. I’m not sure why I thought yogurt wouldn’t count as food, but it seemed logical at the time. It was funny to watch the staff seat everyone that came in for breakfast on the other side of the restaurant until they had no choice but to start putting people near us. There were a good ten or eleven of us, so we were putting up quite a racket. The other teachers were doing their best to get me to eat and I was trying to resist. I think the worst thing I heard was, “Dude, it’s a Chinese medical exam. When I took my exam, I just switched my urine test with someone else’s when I was in the bathroom.” I’m not sure they took the exam as seriously as I did.

Eventually, the staff came over and asked us again what our room number was. We made a few guesses, but when they responded with, “The hotel only has six floors so you can’t be staying on the eighth,” or something like that, we decided it would be a good time to leave. Don’t worry, we still paid. So Leo and I took a taxi back to the apartments. At this point, it was about eight in the morning, so it was time for me to get ready to go to the exam. I managed to show up at the school on time with my passport. I took pains to get there exactly at nine, as requested by the English First staff. Now there were two other new employees that were also supposed to be getting their exam. It’s actually a couple. There’s a British guy and an Italian woman. They’re really very nice and I normally have no problem with them whatsoever. However, after a night of drinking and then sitting through an all-you-can-eat breakfast while I couldn’t eat (those of you who know my love of food should be able to guess how heinous this situation actually was), I was not in a good mood. All I really wanted at this point was to crawl into bed. And then wake up and devour approximately a metric ton of food.

Anyway, the couple showed up late. We hopped in the school van and eventually made it to the hospital. After penetrating the usual 532 layers of Chinese bureaucracy (see, China’s really not that much different from the US), we finally made it to the actual examinations. Much like Austin Powers, I was subjected to a confusing battery of tests while I wandered around in a haze of semi-consciousness. I wasn’t sure if they were conducting a human rat-in-the-maze test on me for their amusement, but it certainly felt that way. I didn’t really understand all the tests, either. I was pretty certain that I was going to fail one of them. They kept showing me these pictures where there was some animal represented in one color and there was another color in the background, but it was all really just a big bunch of dots. They told me in broken English that it was supposed to test my ability to distinguish colors. However, my inability to name any of the animals in the pictures due to the fact that I can’t speak Chinese essentially defeated the purpose of the test. I can say “rooster” as many times as I want in English and they can keep pointing to the animal all they want, but until they learn English or I learn the Chinese word for every animal, we’re not going to get anywhere. I don’t know how many pictures we went through until I finally came across a dog, but it took a while. I happen to know the Chinese word for that, so I was released. If I didn’t know that, who knows how long they might have kept me.

Then there were x-rays. If you think I wanted to be subjected to an x-ray from that decrepit-looking machine, you’re crazy. Naturally, there weren’t any lead vests to be seen either. If I can’t have children in the future, I’m not going to have any trouble pinpointing the cause. After the x-rays, it was on to the blood and urine tests. These were fairly easy for me and I figured that if I could accomplish those tasks in my state, anyone could. However, when I returned from the bathroom, I saw the British guy sprawled out on a bench with ice or something on his forehead. I felt like going over and pummeling him, screaming, “LET ME GO HOME!!” In hindsight, this would have been a bad idea because he really is a good guy and this also could have resulted in my being escorted from the building, but the thought was tempting. Although I suppose if they’d escorted me from the building, I wouldn’t have been able to undergo that ultrasound test. Yes, that’s right folks. All people going through the exam, male or female, must undergo an ultrasound exam. I can only guess that they’ve had a problem with pregnant women posing as men before? You’d think there would be an easier way to establish these things before the ultrasound test. Or maybe Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito were involved, who knows?

Anyhow, we eventually completed all the tests, from the absurd to the possibly-damaging-to-my-reproductive-system. I finally got to go home and sleep. The moral of the story? Well, I’m not sure there is one, but if you come to China, I recommend that you not spend the entire preceding night out at bars or the following morning at a breakfast buffet where you can’t enjoy the food and instead endure the taunts of everyone else at the table. Just some friendly advice.

"Less Slow" Food

Mmm. Urine ham. I mean, yurun ham.









So, my last entry may have sounded a little crabby. This resulted from a combination of my entry into China being truly miserable and the fact that I was watching an episode of House while I was writing. I think some sarcasm may have rubbed off, though I will warn everyone that some of that sarcasm/cynicism is natural, so you can still expect more of that in the future. Sorry.

Anyway, I know a lot of people want to know about the food here in China. To tell the truth, I haven’t had as much “Chinese food” as maybe I should have considering I’m in China. Actually, I’ve had a fairly international sampling while I’ve been here. I’ve been to several Japanese restaurants so far, a German restaurant, and a couple of Chinese places. To date, the Japanese food has been the best, but I’m not sure I’ve been to the best Chinese restaurants here yet. One of the Chinese restaurants I’ve been to here supposedly served “Muslim” food, according to my fellow teacher anyway. That consisted of some pretty good lamb kabob and a few other dishes that I enjoyed. I have had a few really good meals here and there in Chinese restaurants, mostly involving fried rice and fried beef.

One thing they do here that can be hard to find in the US is something called “hot pot.” This is where you and your friends sit around a big pot of boiling broth and order whatever food you want to throw in it. I think I’ve actually had this somewhere before and seem to recall enjoying it a lot. However, when I had it a few days ago in Suzhou, we were eating with some other people that were staying in our hostel and they had various food allergies and preferences. This resulted in our only getting beef and a bunch of vegetables, which was okay, but also semi-ruined the meal because you can usually have so much more.

Surprisingly, I’ve also been to a German restaurant. I had Munich sausage with some mashed potatoes. I thought it was fairly good for a German restaurant that happens to be located in China. (Note: European shopping centers and restaurants are popping up here more frequently because of all the German and other European manufacturing companies that have built factories in Wuxi, bringing European workers with them) The Japanese places I’ve been to have also been very good. I had a really good fried beef and cheese dish today with mushrooms that were covered in some sweet sauce as an appetizer. I thought it was really good, but then again, I’m told I’m not exactly distinguishing in my tastes. There are also a lot of Italian restaurants here. I guess Chinese people really like pizza or something. This is the only explanation I can think of to explain this, other than the fact that Italian food is just awesome. The pizza is actually pretty decent, so I really can’t complain.

As far as the meals that I don’t eat in restaurants, I get most of that food from the supermarket down the street. It’s pretty convenient and the store has a fair amount of Western food as well. I actually made pancakes the other day with some mix that the last guy who lived in my apartment left in the cupboard. I like to wander through the store trying to figure out what everything is, predictably with mixed success. I’ve made it an unofficial policy of mine to buy at least one thing whose identity as a food item is completely unknown to me. I’ve only come up with a package that had some noodles and mystery meat so far, but nothing really exciting or outlandish. I’ll have to start exploring different aisles I guess. I’ve made a significant effort to get Chinese food when I’m there. I usually end up with some sort of dumplings since they sell about 8,476 different kinds of dumpling here. They’re pretty good with some rice, but they don’t really have that much meat in them, so they’re not all that filling. In the meat department, I’m still at the stage where I can’t really figure out what meat is what, so I’m a little wary of buying it at this point. I did buy some spare ribs last night that turned out to be pretty good. Apparently those are a Wuxi specialty or something. I’m not sure how authentic my spare rib meal was though, since there were instructions in English on the back and I’m pretty sure a five year old could have prepared it (commensurate with my cooking ability I should add).

Probably the most interesting feature of eating over here so far is seeing the various fast food restaurants that have made their way to China. The biggest surprise to me was how huge KFC is here. I guess Chinese people just really love eating fried chicken and corn on the cob that has a stick jammed in it so you can eat it like ice cream. That reminds me, some of the ice cream here has the most terrible flavor, like corn, soy beans, or some other fruit or vegetable that has no business invading foods that actually taste good. According to comedian Brian Regan, the cranberry is the master of this technique, but I digress. Another fast food restaurant that has met with unlikely success here in China is Pizza Hut. I have to give them credit for this. Some sharp exec must have seen that their sales were flagging in the US due to competition from other pizza places that don’t make pizza that both resembles and tastes like cardboard (this means you too Domino’s). This clever guy must have thought to himself:

“Where could we move the chain of stores? The people can’t be able to distinguish between good pizza and bad pizza, so that rules out Europe. We’ll need cheap, incompetent labor to keep our costs down and maintain our substandard levels of service, so that probably means somewhere in Asia or South America. I don’t want to have to sell my yacht when I’m kidnapped by a revolutionary group or drug cartel and held for ransom, so that rules out South America. Finally, I need a country with a population large enough that our sales will still look strong even after people realize that the food they cook themselves in filthy pans and potentially toxic water is still better than what’s coming out of our kitchens. I’ve got it! China.” The logic is airtight.

Of course, I couldn’t talk about fast food without mentioning McDonald’s. One odd thing is that every McDonald’s here is located right across the street from a KFC. I’m not sure if they have a business agreement or what. Maybe one of my friends with too much time on their hands at work (I can think of at least two of you right now) can investigate this. Anyway, the food is pretty much the same at the McDonald’s here as it is in the US. It’s just the service that’s awful. The one thing you can count on at the McDonalds in the US is getting your food quickly. It won’t taste good and it will generally look as unhealthy as it really is, but at least you can get it quickly. Here in China, you can wait up to fifteen or twenty minutes for your food. The strange thing is that they keep on making other food that no one has ordered while you’re waiting for your stuff to come out. They’ll keep piling chicken sandwiches and who knows what else on the little heating area, despite the fact that no has ordered it and that you’ve just asked for something else completely. When some of the other teachers and I were there the other day, one of them said to the other, “You should get in that line, it seems to be going faster.” The response was, “If by that you mean that it’s going less slow, then yes.” That’s definitely the best way to describe it. So why do we keep going there, even when we have to wait so long for questionable food and there’s a good chance that we may be subjected to the Chinese version of “Happy Birthday” playing on a loop the entire time we’re there, prompting us to question our sanity and consider unspeakable acts of violence? Well, I go because it reminds me of home. Why do you go?