My China Diary

Confucius had gotten tired of making the Chinese over and over (raise to 10⁹) again. He knew xerox was the solution, so He went to a vendor and asked (Remember Russell Peters’ tone):

“Aai van foutocaupy musheen.” (I want photocopy machine)
Vendor: “Haav vil dei divren-shi-ayte?” (How will they differentiate?)
“Dei oupan baba shp evelyver. Dei maik weed hailstaal.” (They open barber shop everywhere. They make weird hairstyle!)

Similar hairstyle is injurious to their identification (Wonder what would be the difficulty level of the Chinese version of 'Where's Waldo'?)

I ain’t joking. Barber shops are in plenty; moreover they have their own unique zebra billboard. Other peculiarities?

No birds, even to freaking chirp here. Maneka Gandhi should have been born here. Heck, they would have eaten her as well.

I thought Lady Gaga was odd. I saw the Chinese and realized her looks were the fashion statement.

Everyone looks like they are body-waxed and hair-straightened by birth. Vatika or Head & Shoulders won’t have to pay for those shiny, ultra-straight, pitch-black wigs for an ad with a Chinese actress.

Every mammal, reptile or insect here believes that breathing is the greatest punishment given to them by God. ‘Cos that’s the only prerequisite to land into the Chinese cooking pot.

Aah…I feel liberated, just like Chandler who blurts out sarcasms at the end of the episode in which he fails the bet not to criticize anyone for a week. (I’m making it clear that above comments are strictly humour-based and not meant to hurt feelings of any kind. ‘Cos you know, I don’t wanna serve time in a Chinese labour camp!)

Lemme start afresh.

China. An awesome place with great people, as well as a terribly-must-visit for people of all ages and genres – whether he/she loves partying, shopping, sight-seeing, trekking, etc. Other than the umpteen tourist locations in China, if you love casinos, you should head to Macau , or if you want the whole entertainment package of doing anything and everything in a short time, head to Hong Kong.

I have a lot of anecdotes to share, and since I have been bitten by the ‘Ramgopal Varma ki Sequels’ bug, and to save your precious time, I’m splitting this otherwise too-long-that-you-will-chuck-it blog. Without further ado, here I go.

1. “I WANT MY COIN BACK!!!”

This happened during the first days. A neatly clad Chinese woman in her forties came up to me and bowed her head. Thinking it was a customary courtesy, I too bowed back. She showed me a small utensil. I needed one badly, because we were cooking and let’s say I didn’t have the necessities. So I checked it, tapped it, weighed it, and I was content with it. I asked her how much, and she pointed one finger to me. I was surprised, “Wow, a yuan for this, totally worth it!” I gave her the coin, only to be snatched away from me, alongwith the utensil. I stood bewildered, “What the heck, daylight robbery!” Few seconds later I saw her offering the same thing to a passerby. Realization struck late, embarrassment later. Like Mohanlal’s classic dialogue in Kilukkam, “Ithu nalla STAAILAN PICHCHAKAARI!!” (This is one stylish beggar!!!)

2. MR. INTERNATIONAL
Many of us were on an international platform for the first time; we were training with myriad nationalities – Indonesians, Malaysians, Colombians, Mexicans, Turkish folks, etc. Oops, I forgot the Chinese. And the Russians (;D…\m/…). So it was upto everyone to make their own mark, and it wasn’t easy as there was 'competition'; we Indians were 25 in number, and there were max four from each other nation. Some of us were too forward, others ancient, in their ‘approach’ methods.  An example for the former; one of us bought a necklace for a Colombian gal on her birthday, that too on the second day of meeting her! There was this Russian who many tried talking to, but she being kinda a late ice-breaker got irritated. Then one of us, her biggest fan, tried to rise up to the occasion. He coughed, straightened up, walked slowly upto her and said the best that could come to his mind,” Excuse me, if my countrymen have in any way committed any action that might have caused any sort of disturbance, I apologize on behalf of India!!” Guess patriotism and gentlemanliness together played a far hand.

3. MISADVENTURES OF DASANOVA
(The above name was coined by one of my very desperate friends, when he wanted ‘tips’ for feminine friendship (that too, from me?!?!) as he grossly mistook me as a ‘Casanova’…)

I too had a few stumbling moments before success in befriending the international gals. One of them was when I tried notching a conversation with this hot Russian who was fond of literature. I got a golden chance to sit alongside her in a bus trip. She was reading Dostoyevsky (I was steamrolled by Pulimon when I posted this in Buzz) and by courtesy of our ever-idealistic Ullas, I had a faint memory of reading his famous ‘Crime & Punishment’.

Me: “You reading Dostoyevsky?”
She: “Yes yes, how do you know him?”

Me : “Oh who doesn’t! He’s a fantastic story-teller. In India most know him (:D). I am in love with his book, ‘Crime & Punishment', I regard it as his greatest work." (At this moment I chided myself for saying the last part, and prayed she would never ask the hardest question to answer, “What else have you read?”; a guy’s mind must be capable of thinking ahead and delivering clever comebacks in these situations, but unfortunately the best I could come up for cover was, “I was so much in love with ‘Crime…’ that I forgot about the others…”)

She: “Oh yes, that’s the most popular of his works. He has written a lot of other thought-provoking short stories.”

Me : “Okay, that’s nice…perhaps I should take to him since you said so…” she grins, and my inside told me, “For the first time in your boring life, Das, I'm proud of ya! Her name’s Smirnova, ooh, you could be rechristen yourself as Dasanova!” The mind, and time, were flying. I had to prolong the conversation.
“Who else do you read?”

She : “Fyodor on the most part. There are many other good Russian authors too. I haven’t read many English works though. You could recommend me some. Fyodor’s ‘White Nights’…that’s the one I love the most. It’s about…" (she talks on) In the meantime…Fyodor? Who’s this dude? Good going Das boy…next tactic? Now since she loves his work, I could fake reading his work also and praise him and we would be sharing the same taste, voila!

Me: “Now this Fyodor, what is he famous for?”
She: “Eh…what?!”
Oops, what did I say wrong? Quick, quick, troubleshoot you moron!
My eyes fell graciously on the first page of her book…it read FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY…

Me: “Oh …ahem…what ELSE is he famous for?”
She: “Oh there’s his another…”
Phew, close shave! Your processor is improving, now you actually have a shot at J.A.M!

Sometimes, all it takes is a word to save a lie.

Hang around, there’s more to come...