a trip to the tibetan quarter (pt. ii)

i went inside. xizang fengqing wu is a small place with 6 different rooms. the host gestured for me to seat myself. i went through the first open door and found myself in the presence of another waiguoren. i said "ni hao" and sat down. we did not speak.

note: all the waiguoren i've met (including myself) act the exact opposite of the chinese when they see a westerner. instead of staring, we ignore. we want chengdu for ourselves, unsullied by other visitors.

i sat down, and ordered a few dishes. a few minutes after i ordered, at the door from our dining room to the street, a man hit two metal sticks together, making them ring, and said something to the two of us westerners in chinese. i said i didn't understand, and the other westerner told me that the man wanted to clean my ears. at that moment, the man produced some wicked looking metal hooks (they looked like dental picks) with cotton swabbing wrapped around them. i said "bu yao" don't want very quickly. [bu yao is something everyone should remember when traveling to china.] i used the opportunity after the ear cleaner left to apologize to the westerner for intruding. he told me that i was speaking nonsensically, and told me why he was there.

he was canadian, his children were grown, and his wife was ill with a stomache, which explained his solitary position. he and his wife owned a boat that was now in malaysia. they had set sail ten years ago from the north american continent. it was cheaper to live in asia, so they were spending their retirement here. they were in the middle of a year traveling through china, to lhasa, to kathmandu, to etc. etc. etc. needless to say, i was jealous. but then again it seemed he was a bit jealous of me. the grass is always greener.

my food came. i had ordered yak meat dumplings, droma ("a sweet root vegetable") [someone later told me it was ginseng, but i'm not sure about that.], and milk tea. i think the yak tasted better just because it was yak. the droma came with sugar, which i shook on sparingly. it had a taste between a sweet potato and a red bean, and was quite grainy. the milk tea was delicious, and as i stood to go, i realized i hadn't finished all of it. while i stood, i poured the rest of it in my cup, and drained it, college style. ahhh. the good ole days.

i turned to leave, and realized the canadian left while i was eating ninja-style, without even saying goodbye. perhaps it was just that he couldn't be heard over the sound of my epicurian enjoyment.