February 2nd, 2016

7:41 am

Maybe I can find a copy of Groundhog's Day somewhere around here... probably not.

After writing yesterday I went to Roosevelt where, at some point, I was to meet Steve and go see a movie- at the time I had forgotten what movie. With something like 270 Yuan in my pocket I was pretty confident in my ability to make it to Friday, payday, and start this budgeting cycle all over again, but with perhaps a bit more safety to the whole process. And a phone to carry around and translate things and whatnot.

It must have been about 1:30 when I managed to check my yahoo e-mail to see I was to meet Steve at Web at 3:00. I hung out on facebook for a while, and managed not to say or do anything controversial for once. I also tried and failed to find some English instructions for my washing machine, but I did find out about some prices for phone cards and chargers, which were very affordable. At about 2:30 (there's no way I was on the computer for an hour) I went to pick up something light, food-wise, before the movie. I threw onto my food card one of my last hundreds and got a watermelon cup, hot dog thing, and those sugar glazed potatoes. We're talking super diabetes action over here. And when I looked at my bill I paid 3.50 for the hotdog (okay, sure) 8 for the watermelon pieces (yup, that's right) and 9 for the potatoes. WHAT! For reference sake, the main dishes with meat go for about 10-12, and the only reason I didn't get one of them was that I was trying to go easy on my wallet.

I went down to Web at about 2:53 and there was Steve sitting in the English Corner area waiting for me. We left our stuff at Web (I picked mine up first, and Steve said to just leave it. Ok.) and as we walked I showed him my receipt, asking him what I got. Hot dog. Fruit cup. Shrimp something.

I knew it! Food Bazzar screwed me! I knew they been screwing me!

(Look, I know it's not much, but it's almost double what I was expecting to pay, like come on)

Steve already had my ticket, he said that someone else had picked them up, and then last minute decided not to go, so I wasn't sure about who to pay back for the ticket- a very reasonable 35 Yuan. We still had time before the movie, so we sat at a coffee place next door- Steve is a big coffee guy even though it's a costly habit here, well, divide the price by 6.5 (the number Steve cited to compare prices) and it's $5. Bad, but not really worse. He's also got a coffee maker of his own, running smething like 900 Yuan. I examined a poster in the coffee shop, I assumed it was a movie poster, but it was actually a TV show that heavily promoted/featured this coffee shop. So I played a game of "reading poster tropes" where I told Steve- "okay, that guy and girl are the main characters, they're dressed more ornately than anyone else, they're situated at the center of the poster (the most obvious thing) and they're the blandest form of good looking. That guy on the far left is the (probably a crowd favourite) villain, not only is he on the periphery, but he has a very heavy brow and dark, prominent eyebrows- a casting agents dream for "bad guy". He probably has someone else hanging around on his evil spectrum, so the girl beside him is also probably villainous, but probably more sympathetic. Of the two women on the far right, the left one is probably the main girl characters best friend, probably sassy, and in-universe is considered less attractive than the main girl character even though the main girl character is dressed more conservatively (because they always are) and this woman has a very short skirt that, by all rights, would bring all the boys to the yard. The woman to the right of this best friend character has a slightly more innocent expression, and is placed slightly further into the background, making her look smaller, younger than the other characters. Likely she's played a bit dim, comedy relief, ingenue style. There are two more guys, basically interchangable, that would be the main guy characters friends- the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (sp?).

As we left the coffee shop for the movie, playing on a screen was a scene from this tv show- it had the main girl* mopping the floor of the coffee shop she works at and the villain guy tips the coffee in his hand to spill onto the floor. What a Reggie Mantle move. Steve suggested he liked the girl he was tormenting, and Steve is probably right.

*(I couldn't actually tell which girl it was without the distinctive poster clothes, but based on law of tv show appearance averages it was either the main girl or the young dim one- the sassy best friend would never put up with that, even IF she'd ever work in a coffee shop. Ditto the evil girl.)

Sitting in the theatre, waiting for Steve to return from the bathroom, the volume on the ads was excessive. It kind of hurt, actually. Then I thought I was just looking for reasons why this movie-going experience couldn't match up to the west- but no, it was that loud. I'm glad to say the volume went down when the movie itself started. Kung Fu Panda 3 produced by "Oriental Dreamworks".

This place is wreaking havoc with my western SJW training about what is offensive. And Steve is apparently a big fan of "Everybody Loves Kung Fu Fighting" (possibly just called "Kung Fu Fighting" I don't know)

Before you ask, the movie was in English with Chinese subtitles, and it was great. Po had to learn what it meant to grow into ones self, and he had to learn how to be a teacher. If my life were a movie or tv show, and I was watching the character of Isaac watching Po doing these things, I'd have to say the writers weren't being very subtle. Actually, I'd say the writers WERE being subtle, but I'd be using heavy sarcasm. Like, with eye rolls and my head shaking back and forth derisively. Possibly even an Ace Ventura voice. I'm talking HEAVY sarcasm.

After the movie Steve went to the washroom and I checked out all the movie posters. I won't bore you with ALL the details, but there was one movie that came out February 1st- and I realized that a February 1st release is equivalent to a Christmas Day, maybe Christmas Eve release date over here. It seems today is sort of a soft holiday, leading into the Spring Festival. The big difference is it sounds like the theatre will be closed during the ACTUAL holiday, because even theatre workers deserve to spend time with their families during the holidays here. Crazy, right? (Sarcasm, it's not crazy)

There was also a movie poster for "The Man from Macau III" which was obviously a spy thing, running off "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." phrasing but with a surprising number of genre busting comedy robots. One robot looked like if C-3PO was a coffee maker. And front and center, just below the main guy(s) (it's actually a pretty confusing poster with a TON of featured characters, like if you doubled a Star Wars poster), there was this young androgynous looking guy in leather pants pointing a gun. And then Steve returned and told me that was actually a woman, a famous singer- I'd be very curious about the type of image she usually puts out, like maybe she's a sort of sporty, punk, high energy type? I don't know, very interesting, very different.

Steve had forwarded an invitation from his parents to join them for dinner to celebrate the holiday and whatnot. I was happy to accept- we collected our things from Web and proceeded to the basement level where we met his parents.

Something I haven't mentioned about Steve is that, and I'm sorry I've forgotten the exact name of it, but he has that thing Steven Hawking has. Muscular dystrophy? I don't know, you've got google over there, you can figure it out easier than I can. For the moment, it means that Steve has a limping walk, and if the escalator isn't working that's a problem. We needed to detour on our way to the basement because the primary routes escalator wasn't working.

Meeting Steve's parents, his father was introduced as Mr. (Family Name) and his mother as (some other word)- I guess for his mother I was just told her given name? Obviously that was unexpected, I would have thought a Mr. and Mrs. (family name). This bit of cultural difference was distracting enough that I didn't exactly register either name. Well, the family name may be "Han" but I'm not a 100%. Steve's father was a thin man with small glasses that needed to be cleaned (mine need to be wiped off too), with very dark coloured teeth, and I'm afraid I couldn't get the idea that he looked like the Master from Buffy out of my mind. He was super nice, and knew a few English words. And Steve's mother, who was very excited to meet a foreigner, just reminded me so much of my mother. I could just imagine her (this is hard to write about) meeting some foreign person that we'd have over for lunch or dinner and she'd slip into speaking with the same accent as whoever was over and it would be embarrassing. Except it wouldn't be a meal at our house, because she wouldn't enjoy that, she'd be too stressed over making the house neat for company and then getting food prepared. So it would have to be eating out, at Swiss Chalet, but she wouldn't have done that either, because eating out is too expensive when you've got four boys, plus this mystery foreigner.

But in a world where she didn't have to worry about money, my mom would have been like this. Sweet and funny. And I got really sad, and so I fought back and emptied my mind as best as I could, and tried to focus on light heartedly perusing the menu with Steve- Steve caught me looking at the wall, trying to keep myself together, when everyone else was focused on their menu, and he told me not to worry about the prices- this kid's mostly got me figured out.

I ordered a 29 Yuan sphagetti and meat sauce with cheese thing, far, far and away the most western thing I've had since coming to China. There was a 19 Yuan meatless version that I would have ordered but I didn't want to offend my hosts by lowballing it. And then they asked me if I would like this, and this, and this and they just kept ordering things, the table ended up covered in food. And they got me a fork, which I initially turned down, but then said, sure. It's been a month since I'd held a fork. I actually still used the chop sticks a lot, especially for reaching over and grabbing some new thing to try- I couldn't imagine sticking my own fork out and spearing something from a communal plate to bring over to me, but it isn't really that different from grabbing something with the chop sticks. Just a mental block. I had a strawberry juice, and some "durian glutinous rice rolls" and I corrected Steve who thought maybe the fruit in it was called "glutinous" instead of "durian", and we had some stringy mushrooms with garlic, and shrimp dumplings, and some kind of fried dumplings, and some third variety of shrimp dumplings... at some point the word "dumpling" has to lose all meaning. And there were some sesame covered nuts of some kind, they were sweet, next to some sweet and sour shrimp (yes, lotta shrimp this meal) and we had some steak pieces that people call "beef" here, because you may as well, and it had a bit too much pepper in it, so whenever I took one I needed to turn my head and cough into my sleeve.

I was asked what I did in Canada, and why come here- I showed them my security licence (what happened to your hair?) and explained I wanted to start down a new path, that maybe I could have gotten a new, better paying security job... but I hate security. Steve's mother was in the army, played in the band there. Judging by her pantomime, she either played clarinet (which, as far as coincidences go, is verging on cruel) or a host of instruments. I talked about my time in the army cadet band. Steve's parents took a photo of the two of us, I think his dad was taking a video while I was talking to Steve... I made a few half turns towards the camera for effect, but focused most of my energy on my conversation with Steve. If I could make Steve happy with conversation, that would make his parents happy. The kid is 18, and I couldn't help but flash to the future when they'll be looking on those pictures as reminders of happier times, when Steve is unable to walk ("I'm sorry, I know I said I'd have a party during Spring Festival, but my parents want to take me on a trip, show me around while I can still walk." said as if it were absolutely nothing) or worse yet, what if Steve is gone? These are parents that aren't concerned with their own mortality, but their sons. This is also crazy sad. Steve showed me a video, and so I grabbed my earphones to share as we watched- an action altogether too cutesy for my tastes, but it'll make for a sweet video for them to see later.

I was taught about this tradition where, when you clink glasses together to say cheers or some equivalent, that the senior person has their glass held higher, so Steve, 12 years my junior, held his glass lower as he clinked my glass. Steve's mother also held her glass lower- I wasn't sure if she was being ironic about our ages or if women lower their glasses automatically in this culture. I was hoping for the former, but who knows.

I almost brought up Steve's entrepreneurial activities (selling baked goods online) but thought better of it- I turned to Steve: "do your parents know about you selling food online?" 

Er, no.

Yeah, okay, I get teenagers well enough.

I kept chugging away at the food, but Steve said if I was full I could stop, that they were going to get it packed up and it wouldn't go to waste, he'd probably have it for breakfast the next day. I was glad to hear it, and gratefully stopped.

We left the restaurant and headed north together inside Roosevelt, parting ways at the exit- they were parked east, I was headed north. We shook hands.

I ran into, I think his name is Haven, the Web flyer guy I try to talk with, just coming towards Roosevelt from a shift handing out flyers in front of the Wal-Mart. We made awkward small talk for a bit- "only 5 numbers today. Very bad."- before I returned to walking home. "Carry On My Wayward Son" came on and I broke down. I took a few moments and kept walking, spitting huge gobs of snot and tears, leaving the music off.

Back at my apartment I felt drained. I put on my laundry, again, no instructions, but this time had my most successful wash yet. Things seemed to rinse properly, and there was only the one alarming noise as the machine spun the water out.

At about 8:45 pm there was a noise, some kind of explosion. I got up to look out my window to see whether or not World War III had started, or if my building was collapsing or something (it's a sturdy building, but this IS China, you never know), and saw fireworks shot up just beside my building, a floor, maybe two, higher than eye level. Almost impossible to get any closer. I kept watching until the show was over- both because it was cool, and also so I'd know right away whether or not the building caught fire. 

I'm sure you'd have loved a video of it, but I guess this was just for me. - 10:18 am