yinchuan with a side of office sleeping

I spent the weekend in the 银川 Yinchuan office. It's classy place in a residential area, and has a few bedrooms for those of us staying the weekend, so I didn't have to sleep on the conference table. But if I had slept on the conference table, it wouldn't have made much of a difference. A bed in Ningxia is usually a slab of plywood covered with a few blankets. I like a firm bed, so I'm okay.

Sleeping in the office has some drawbacks, however. I'm not a huge fan of getting dressed and ready in front of the NXCEPA vice-president, so I felt obligated to wake up fairly early to avoid any wacky antics that may have already transpired on Bosom Buddies.

The main difficulty was when my coworker's mother showed up. To begin with, my Chinese isn't great, or even very good. That coupled with the fact that she spoke a Ningxian dialect wicked fast didn't help. Whenever she spoke to me, I would either a.) think hard and come up with my best answer, or b.) stare blankly. Both responses would bring howls of cackling laughter.

I know I'm not very particular about my food, but ever since a particular incident in Salt Lake City (sorry Skinny), I have been most serious about not eating more than one meal during dinner. What I mean to say, is if I'm invited to dinner, I do not like to have a pre-dinner.

On Saturday night, my coworker asked me if I liked roast meat. At the mention of roast meat, I get a bit excited. We finished up our work (yeah, I work weekends as a volunteer), and started to leave. As we were heading out the door to meet his friends for dinner, his mother stopped us. "Dinnertime!" she said, I assume.

A bowl of noodles greeted each of us at the table. I began to eat grudgingly, and soon she was tossing slices of Chinese hotdog (a type of sausage with the consistency of soft cheese) into my bowl, splashing broth onto my clothes. There must have been something wrong with my face, because my coworker said, laughingly, "Uh oh mom, he's getting angry."

Happily, the noodles weren't too heavy (compared to a foot-long buffalo-chicken sub), and I was able to fully enjoy the roast meat.

The next morning (Sunday), his mother woke me up wondering if I wanted to save a 5 foot long rubber band (I removed from a tennis ball) I had put in the trash. Again, at least I think that's what she said. I kept saying "Don't want, don't want," and eventually she left me alone.

It's frustrating to me because I shouldn't be frustrated. One of the main problems I had with Chengdu was that everyone around me spoke English. Now everyone around me speaks Chinese, and I'm still not happy. At least now that it's past I'm okay with it, and to be honest, it was more painful frustration than unhappiness.

At least now I'm back in Yanchi, in my own room, with my old roommates, and I'm happy. That is until his mom comes to visit here....cue Psycho soundtrack.