Wait…Did That Just Happen?!

The last few posts have been a bit heavy so I thought I would write a couple stories about living here that are hard to believe but trust me they are TRUE!

Ok, this first one, is not my own experience but a friend told me recently and well, I can’t help but share (Barbara I apologize for any incorrect details)….

“Problem Solved”

When a pet dies in the city there are some complications as to what to do with it. One expat ran into this complication when her rather large dog passed away. Not able to bury it anywhere she decided to take it to the vet where he would help her put him to rest (for a fee of course). How do you get a fairly large dead dog to a vet…in a suitcase with wheels of course! Now remember, most expats here do not have their own cars, so we either walk, take a bus or taxi. Well, she starts to head out and is wheeling this suitcase behind her when she comes across her first obstacle….the dreaded under the street crossing with a ton of stairs. So she is trying her best to lug this super heavy suitcase down and up the stairs when a man offers to help. He asks what’s inside and of course to her it is “her most valuable thing” so she tells him “its something valuable”. Well, looking at the foreigner, the man gets the notion that he is better off not being the Good Samaritan and runs off with her suitcase! She was about to protest and yell out “thief” when she realized he just solved a major problem for her. And with that, she turned around and walked home…We just all wish we could have seen his face when he opened that suitcase!

“A Day at the HairDresser is not the Same here”

This one happened while we lived here a few years ago before I knew a fair amount of Mandarin…I was in desperate need to get a hair cut and my local friend told me that she would go with me to get it cut. Now, I know it is hard to imagine but most hair-dressers have NEVER cut a white person’s hair. I am not trying to be offensive in this but Chinese hair is not the same as my hair. And the reaction I got in the salon was one of great curiosity.

It is never a good sign when you sit down and EVERYONE in the salon comes by to touch and inspect your hair. But my friend assured me that it would be fine and they would figure it out. So I let them fuss and take pictures and touch my hair until the boss lady finally said to step back and let her get to work. I told my friend that I just wanted a trim so that it was thick at the bottom (all even, ya know). Well, they start cutting and I start fretting.

I know we all fret a little at the hair-dresser. We get nervous seeing hair fall to the ground that we know will take months to grow back and start to second guess our decision to put our looks into someone else’s hands. I was no different as I saw locks begin to fall and wasn’t 100% sure I had communicated what I wanted. I kept asking my friend if she said the right word for “thick” and she kept trying to assure me. But as I looked at the amount of hair on the floor warning bells went off.

Finally, I asked if we could look up the word “thick” and to my dismay she had translated it “thin”. “Thin on the bottom” translates into the then currently popular hairstyle in my town—the “V cut”. That’s right, I had a perfect V, which translates into American culture as —“the mullet”. My long hair had been trimmed into a mullet that started just above the shoulders and ended in a point at my spine in between the shoulder blades. Oh dear

For the next few months I kept it in a pony-tail until we arrived in the States where my aunt (whose an amazing hairstylist) graciously cut the whole thing off and styled it into a cute layered bob. Needless to say I am still a little scissor shy to this day.

“Not Every Gift is Appreciated”

Jaden and I were taking a walk outside (he was almost 2 yrs. old at this point) when this old man approached to admire his golden hair and blue eyes. Now, locals LOVE to give gifts to small children. It is such a strong compulsion that they almost cannot NOT give some kind of gift (small candy, chocolate, sticker, cheap toy, etc.). They will rummage through their purse to find something. And usually I smile and nod and say something like “oh thank you, I’ll have him eat it later” (I mean, the kid isn’t two years old yet- a small hard candy or gum has “choking hazard” written all over it!). Well, this old man, just couldn’t resist the urge to give my son a gift and having no purse in which to store any small treasures he gives Jaden the only thing he has…a lit cigarette straight from his mouth!

Or course all culture appropriateness flew out the window as I see him give my son fire and a drug! So I instantly took it and threw it on the ground. In complete shock I simply said we have to go now and walked away. Oh C-land.

And that’s the life we live.  I hope you enjoyed a couple tidbits of the crazier side of this life.  I’ll try to remember a few more stories as they come.