Friday, June 24, 2005

Calling Babe at Table 731

Last night was definitely one of the most "interesting" nights i've had yet in Urumqi (which btw, i'm nearing my 9 month mark - whoa!). It started out with a simple but absolutely delicious meal at a Uyghur restaruant a little bit out of town. There were about 10 of us, all going in separate cars. We followed one of them to this restaurant, which was an event in itself: the driver of the other car was obsessively weaving in and out of the traffic, not caring that it was rush hour and obviously unaware of the fact that it was simply dangerous to be driving at such high speeds when people and children were crossing the roads like chickens, bicycles and mini tractors were crawling along in the middle lanes, and that we were trying to follow and not run over anything that was in motion, or inanimate for that matter. We got there alright, but i would have preferred it if it wasn't at the cost of my pulsating heartrate and clenched fists. I sincerely have faith in my fiance's driving (there's no way i could possibly survive driving in China that's for sure, not in this lifetime), but i don't trust anybody else on the road.

Anyway, back at the restaurant, we feasted on the freshest and sweetest fruits i have ever tasted (watermelon that came from the most Eastern coast of China, the other end of where we are!). The driver is a fruit-connaisseur and it was he who arranged this delightful spread of citrus. Apparently there are over 70 kinds of apricots, 10 types of watermelon, and god knows how many types of peaches, plums, grapes. I enjoy the fact that at a Uyghur meal, fruit is served first, wetting the appetite - literally - for the other sumptuous tastes to follow. In Chinese meals, fruit is served last and is usually limited to oranges and apples.

Meat with a capital M was this dinner's theme, we had rabbit, pigeon, mutton, gorgeous-tasting kebabs, sheep filled baozi, Uyghur-style pizza, finishing off with a divine noodle soup and cold plum juice.

Honestly, that dinner ranks up there with my top 5 dinners in China.

Afterwards, we trooped down to this disco/bar place that was situated a few steps away from EF, where i used to teach. You would never know it from the outside, but on the 9th floor of this inconspicuous building lies an innovative hotspot for Urumqi dating. A bit sleazy and on the verge of skank, this place's unique attribute is the concept of having a telephone at each table where people can dial one another from their own table, chat it up, and if all goes well, arrange to meet. Each table has a number above it so you know what to dial, although one has to be careful not to misdial or a lot of embarassment could result. It's such an intersting concept, this telephone-flirting thing. It gives both parties the open door to assess each other without meeting face to face yet, but both knowing that they're in the same room and not needing to make eye-contact. And the beauty of it is if the telephone chit-chat all goes downhill, there is no obligation to follow up and the most important part is: there is no loss of face. Ingenuis.

Anyways, i had no idea this kind of thing existed but i was intrigued at its creativity of allowing shy and introverted people, whom there are a lot of in China, to be given a chance to meet others, even if it does seem like a desperate alternative to conventional dating methods. But i digress, what is conventional these days? And hey, at least you know that for the others who are there dialing each other up four feet away, they too are just as desperate. There's a little comfort in solidarity.

It's the next day and I'm still kind of bewildered at it all; it's amazing how you can be instantly transported into a completely different world of laser lights, dark booths with see-through curtains, high tables and stools, scantily clad women, and the likes... all this by stepping into an elevator and pressing a button. Unreal. And just outside is the regular routine of people rushing about, cars swerving to miss pedestrians, spit and snot littered on the ground every few seconds, and other sights and sounds and smells of China that i'm just so accustomed to now it's scary. It's not even strange anymore to hear Christmas music (IN JUNE!) blasting out of fast-food chains to passer-bys like we heard last night. Oh, China.

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