In this weeks's Reader's Postcard, Kath Beattie
utilises her sign language skills in Shanghai.
We arrive from Shanghai at the Beijing domestic airport
expecting (as arranged) to be met and taken to the hotel
where we will join seven others for a Silk Road adventure.
Neither of us has one word of useful "Chinese"; we certainly
can't read the street names or other signs - they're all in
Chinese characters.
We find a counter with an attractive woman within hand's
length of a telephone.
Aha! We'll ask her to phone the contact number for us.
No amount of miming, pleading, damn near weeping will
persuade her to phone or let us do so.
Half an hour passes. I search the airport arrivals area again
and again.
JJ continues with madam, and now a few others join in, to no
avail. An hour passes.
I return from yet another sweep of the area when we see him.
The guide! We know it's him - he has the travel company sign
(in English) swinging above his head.
He's been waiting at the international airport.
I near hug him to death . . . well . . . with joyous words.
Once settled at the hotel, we go in search of a meal and find
a clean, fresh restaurant with white tablecloths.
A picture menu is produced.
The four young staff crowd around to see what we'll choose,
or alternatively make suggestions (by turning the pages back
and forth and pointing).
We retrieve the menu and look for "something vegetarian",
finally indicating and nodding.
They race off, then back . . . it's not available . . . point
to another . . . not available.
Whoops, we're going to need to accept something
non-vegetarian.
Mmmm. A long look while the staff choose other dishes for us,
making a mime that it's good (at least these ones can mime).
One has a few words of English. Shame on us.
We could have at least put in the time to have some of the
language.
At last, we make a selection.
The picture displays a meat "stew" ensconced on a bed of rice
and vegetables.
We point, nod and smile.
Up go their hands to their mouths, their eyes widen and
stifled stocked giggles escape.
The one who has some English shakes her head, eyes shining.
"No! No! You no like. Dog!"
We choose fish, small river fish, very bony and served whole
. . . hardly bigger than whitebait.
Tasty though, and preferable to someone's Labrador or poodle.
Kath Beattie is a Dunedin woman.
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