I started queuing for the fourth time at the same railway station. The first counter wouldn’t serve foreigners, the second one wouldn’t use a translator and the third one would only sell a ticket to a traveller presenting a valid passport. The valid passport was currently in the Vietnamese consulate, three blocks away. Nothing surprised me.
I woke up grilled finely on both sides. I lingered in bed toasting my back just a bit more, knowing that I’d surely miss the comfy bed with the electric blanket a lot the following night… The few nutcases who come to Tibet during winter quickly become accustomed to the heater under the sheet on a bed that costs them 3$. You usually need a good dose of mettle to crawl out of it and face the radiator-free room, but not today. Today we were finally reaching the place for which we came to China.
I know you prefer to see some letters in my posts, there are some places though which are best accompanied by silence. I fell in love with Tibet. The air smells of Himalayan wind, incense burned in temples and an upcoming storm. I fell in love with the Tibetans. There is peace, wisdom and light in their eyes; there are colourful beads, feathers and freedom in their hair. The streets welcome me with a smiling and cheerful greeting tashidele.
A massive man shaved bald with a swastika tattooed on his hand motioned for me to come inside. There was a picture of his leader hanging above the tent door, a man considered an extremist and separatist with terrorist inclinations. Those of his kind are relocated, silenced and stifled. They’d better not create larger groups and organizations.
Today it was pointed out that I have bad table manners. I feel silly.
You shouldn’t stab your food with chopsticks, that I know and follow. You should keep some leftovers on your plate, otherwise the host will worry there wasn’t enough, that I know and (usually) follow. You should make sounds while consuming, the louder, the better compliment for the chef, that I know. But I don’t follow, and there’s the rub.
Have you ever heard of language with no grammar? One, with no scary conjugation, declination, exceptions? Where in order to put your words in the past tense it’s enough to add yesterday to the original sentence, no need to worry about irregular verbs? This is how friendly Chinese is.
Well, all right. Usually when something sounds too good to be true, there’s a catch…
How can a huge finger like that fit into such a small nose? – Piotrek was intrigued enough to maintain eye contact with the lady who was fervently performing some archeological excavating works in her very own face. She fixed her gaze on him and there was a serious risk she would drill through the wall.
Sister! There will come a time when you start to hate China, the Chinese and yourself for the idea to come to this country. You’ll wake up furious, your man will piss you off without even knowing the how or the why, which will piss you off even more. The day will be doomed before it really begins and only three things will be able to save it: haribo gummy bears, a white kitkat bar and Portuguese sweet fortified wine. Non-Portuguese, non-sweet and non-fortified can also do the job.
The driver emphatically gathered the mucus that he had been building up all morning especially for the occasion and discharged it through the sad spot left after the upper incisors, which was also a perfect fit for the almost smoked-out cigarette.