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The white-tiled Post Office has tables outside; 3-kuai noodles arc into the boiling pot. Soon, they slop into the bowl. "No cilantro, miss – hot oil!" Bite the raw garlic clove, let the noodles slip down after. "Helloooo! Laowai, take a picture with my son!" This is my Beijing.
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12 comments:
Epilogue:
Millings sat as his desk, morning's buttered toast cooling, barely touched. Hot, bittersweet coffee was waking him up, but his heart remained unwarmed. Refresh. Still nothing. "I'm as unpopular as a picture of raw Romanesco broccoli, and that thing looks like it could kill you." Refresh. 0 COMMENTS.
Relax, Mac. Sometimes it takes a while:)
OtherStuffers are a select band, you know, if all five of them have got a deadline at work the blog has to wait its turn...
Hi Zeph,
I'm not disappointed - I was just sitting here with my aforementioned breakfast, checked in, and couldn't help it...for the last couple of days, I've been describing everything in my life in 50 words or less.
Not out loud, obviously. That would be weird.
Your Beijing, eh?
We didn't realise we had an Olympian amongst us:)
You know garlic CAN be used as a weapon - I had this when I first worked in Paris and took the early bus across town to the Bastille. They all chewed raw garlic - so I did the same. Respect! Couldn't match the old boys when they stopped off and took the armagnac on the the way to work though!
This is a) Graham Greene-esque (effect compounded by the epilogue) and b) making me hungry.
I must go and comment on the broccoli now - I wouldn't want that thing to start feeling neglected or resentful, lest it come and attack us all.
Mac,
have you heard of "le vertige de la page blanche"? A brand new thread can be daunting.
And what of someone who has lunch at the post office? I mean, what do you do at the hairdresser's, hmmm?
Now, speaking of weird, I might go and comment on the veggie thread but if that thing starts posting comments of its own, we'll know for sure that machine in Switzerland is really dodgy.
Oh, and don't worry about describing everything in your life in 50 words or less. During the first haiku festival here, Mrs Offside would only express herself in bursts of 17 syllables.
She's back to her normal ramblings now, so apparently the affliction doesn't last.
Oh hell and teeth - is the rise of the brassica to do with the firing of the LArge Particle Collider - or whatever it's name is in Cern?
Or is it to do with the visits of the Jehovah's Witnesses? They came today and are coming back next week. They were strangely nice and left a book for me to read.....
Offside,
Re hairdressers, a typical Beijing barber, as I recall, was a guy on the street with a chair, a sheet, and a pair of scissors - or, if you were really lucky, battery-powered clippers. However, they wouldn't stop telling you how difficult it was to cut "foreigner hair".
But that's in "your" Beijing, right? Not the actual one?
Offers,
Alas, you're right. The Beijing I knew a mere 10 years ago bears little resemblance to the bright and shiny, character-stripped megalopolis of today.
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