Dinner with 20 of My Friends

In China you have "good China days" and "bad China days". To use it in a sentence, you might say to a friend, "Man, I'm having a really bad China day." When you're having a bad China day, nothing is clicking. Nobody understands your Chinese, making you feel like a moron. You're sick of eating oily food and white rice, which is now flowing through your bloodstream. You're tired of dirty streets, dirty air, trash everywhere, and toilets that are set in the ground...give me a free standing toilet for crying out loud, I'm tired of squatting. And you just generally miss your friends, family, and basically anyone who can speak English.

Well...today WASN'T one of those days. The air was clean, the food was good, and I felt like my goal of one day becoming fluent was attainable. I went out for dinner at about 10:30...I know, but I had a lot of work. Actually, the only reason I left is because I thought they might close. "They" are this awesome noodle place--get a little egg, chicken, and vegetables mixed with spaghetti-type noodles in some killer seasoning (probably MSG too)--yea, that's right up my ally. So, I head out to pick up the food with full intentions to take it back home and watch a couple episodes of Seinfeld on DVD (sometimes you get tired of eating alone in restaurants and being watched the entire time).

I almost reach the noodle place--which is just kind of a tent on the side of the road with a stove set up...quite common--and this group of people at another "restaurant" (same setup) right across the street see me. There was probably about 13-15 people. They begged me to eat with them. I asked the chef if he made the same stuff I wanted. After he said no, I went to the other place, grabbed my food, and when I came back, they had a seat set up for me, chopsticks ready, and a full bowl of rice, even though I was clearly having my own dish. At that point I still hadn't agreed to eat with them, but once I did, they cheered like Yao Ming had just been named MVP.

Once I sat down, more people joined and crowded around the table to hear what I had to say. By the time that picture was taken, we had at least 20 people. They were pushing me to try all the dishes, and they wanted to know everything about me. They guy in the grey suit on the right was cracking jokes near they end, which I really didn't understand, but which were getting big laughs, probably at my expense. Once I got up to leave, they asked me where I lived. I pointed to the tall nearby apartment, and the girl in the hat on the right asked "Which floor?". Wow. I answered honestly (9th floor), laughed a little, then said goodbye to my new friends. And then, once home, I got in my episodes of Seinfeld. Solid day. A good China day.