China, 11 Feb 2007 --

Here’s a little thought experiment for you:  picture the dumbest guy you know.  I mean, this guy seems completely unaware of what’s going on around him.  He asks questions to which answers seem painfully obvious, he seems oblivious to the most basic of social customs, and is frequently the source of amusement for people around him.  In case you can’t guess where I’m going with this:  this guy is me, in China…every single day.

Consider this example:  The other night I had a very quiet dinner for one in a cavernous ballroom that probably seats several hundred during the high season.  I was, however, in the resort town of Zhaoqing in what is apparently the complete and total low season.  Most of the lights in the huge room were off, and the only other people there were the giggling Chinese servers.  I sat by myself at a large round table set for 20 or so.

I get laughed at quite a bit, but the laughter is generally good-natured and the ones laughing the hardest are usually the most helpful.  The servers at the resort, for example, were kind enough to serve me a simple meal for 15 kwai (a little less than two US dollars) rather than charging me the exorbitant menu prices.

In the Guangdong province of China, I found the level of English spoken by the average person to be about zero.  This is a huge change from South East Asia, where the average level of English spoken is ever so slightly above zero.  Believe it or not, this makes all the difference in the world.  In the other countries I’ve visited on this trip, the most basic bastardized English is understood while here it’s met with blank stares.  Believe it or not, I’ve walked into hotels and had to resort to my phrasebook just to get across the fact that I was looking for a room. I’m not sure what else they think I’d be doing there with my big backpack on my back, but oh well.

This Lonely Planet Mandarin phrasebook has been a lifesaver, incidentally.  Without this thing, I think I’d be completely non-functional.  My tiny Mandarin vocabulary is growing a bit at a time, but in the meantime pointing at the Mandarin text in the little book seems to work just fine.  They have a different system of finger counting here, which makes it possible to count from 1-10 on just one hand.  This, at least, I’ve mastered and it’s been very useful in haggling over prices.

China has a very complete bus and train system, and the choice of possible destinations in every direction has been a little overwhelming.  I’m used to the relatively small countries of South East Asia where there are at most 5 major roads and one major rail line.  The only real travel decision to make is how many hours to move down the road.

In addition to the basic problem of deciding where to go next, is the daunting fact that buses and bus schedules are labeled in Mandarin characters only.  To figure out which bus is mine, I’ve had to get creative in describing the characters in my head.  Yesterday, for example, I took a 9 hour bus ride from ’squiggly thing, two trees’ to ‘b-shape, step ladder.’

Anyway, now that I’ve reached ‘b-shape, step ladder’ (also known as Yangshuo), I seem to be firmly back on the tourist trail.  The backpacker ghetto of endless guest houses and bars with thumping music is all too familiar.  Despite the difficulties of being all alone in Guangdong, I have to say I miss it a bit.  From what I hear, I’m sure there will be more confusion and entertaining language difficulties in my future.

Categories China