Club InterContinental Week 5/16

One of my favorite things about experiencing a new culture is seeing them have new experiences and understandings of the states and hearing these new people talk about mine.
I realized this week that my co-workers often prefer using a fork and a spoon over chopsticks. When we snack on the rice from breakfast or really any other Chinese dish, they never use chopsticks, usually a fork or spoon. We had an outing last week and while they were willing to ask for these utensils for my sake (before I even requested them myself, I figured I could go without as I'm quite competent with chopsticks), they wouldn't use them in front of each other or in public.
I guess, it is embarrassing to use them in front of your own kind. Of course, I'm blatantly American, so it's expected.
We also had the chance to dine at Riva. This is the hotel's Mediterranean Steakhouse. It is known as the best steak in Suzhou. Most of the customers are locals. Ironically, the "best steak in Suzhou" is at a Mediterranean Steakhouse that orders all their meat from Australia.
Australian meat at a Mediterranean restaurant in China.
Erin, one of the student workers, introduced a pretty cool Canadian video that hits off with a display of American politics and Christian subtexts throughout. How did she find this and I hadn't even heard of it yet?
Social networking. A micro blog.
Even in China, where neither Facebook nor Twitter legally exist, this girl is gaining access to these things through social media. It's just nuts.
Well, I thought I would share, so enjoy, "I, Pet Goat ii"



Weird, right?
Well, I've already Google a pretty comprehensive description for you. Here, you are. Yeah you're welcome:
Erin is a smart one. She's slightly more driven than the others and is vastly interested in other cultures. She is staying on past her student employment as our supervisor has agreed to give her weekends off so she can learn Spanish.
This is amazing because she not only speaks Mandarin, but really great English and learns more everyday. Most Chinese have no desire to learn a language beyond their own and English. They don't really have to, so why struggle through learning another latin language?
Just as we have a super difficult time understanding Chinese "vocal chops," they have an even harder time training their tongue for language instead of tones in the back of their throat. And I tend to slack on the tone in what little Chinese I can speak, now.
The Chinese dread languages like French and Spanish and are impressed that I am even capable of learning French. The nasal and the rolls in French and Spanish, respectively are super difficult.
Anyway.
Whenever I have an inquiry about something that requires blunt cultural courage, I ask her. She and Owen both are generally familiar with how Americans think and what I may find as strange or peculiar.
So one day I finally asked, "Why all the staring?"
Erin said because white people don't normally live in the complex, they live in much more expensive housing. She said it isn't because I look weird, it's because I really don't belong there, I belong with the other, rich, white people. All the white people here are expats, so naturally, they live farther in the city near work and the high-rent district.
Owen said because I definitely look American. He said, "chinese people really like America. When we see English or a 'may gwo' (American), we think of freedom. You have so much freedom. Even your hair, you can change it however you want, but ours will always be black, the girls can't really change the color. We can't really look that different."
Owen's words were a relief to hear that day.
The day before, Alex warned me about one of our guests. He asked if I saw the guy that looks like Benjamin Franklin with red hair.
Now, when I say red hair, I mean the color red of a fire truck. You know, that color red that you only see weird old men dye their hair.
"How could I miss him?"
Well, he was telling Hugo (the Portuguese food and beverage intern) to get while the getting was good because Chinese girls are very easy. Mind you, he was at the table with a Chinese woman. He was also calling for his waitress by shouting, "hey, sweet ass," across the restaurant.
What he lacks in tact and looks, he more than makes up for in money.
Sky asked me if he was an example of a sugar daddy- an explanation I had just given her last week - and I happily confirmed and added "gold digger" to her vocabulary to describe the different women he spent his time with.
I didn't heed Alex's warning too much as, well, I'm a snobby American that wouldn't put up with his crap. And he clearly knew that as he didn't say much to me. The girls were clearly made uncomfortable by his presence (word spreads very quickly through the girls locker room), so I took it upon myself to walk over whenever he demanded someone. He tried to be sneaky and only do this when one of the girls was nearby, but, they acted as if they didn't know English and fake-stuttered the worst English I've ever heard them speak as they said "one moment" as they came to get me.
It was hilarious.
When his German friend joined the table, he was quick to ask my nationality.
"Ah, the devil country."
Well, I have to admit that hurt and was honestly confusing, but I ignored it with a "um, sure."
His response was a question of whether or not I voted for Obama four years ago. He apologized to me and said I must be disappointed when I told him I did.
"Thank you for your condolences, but they're unnecessary, coffee or juice?"
"What part of the country are you from?"
"Memphis, TN"
"Ah, slavery."
"Actually, I guess no one sent you the telegram, but everyone has equal rights these days, except my homosexual friends, they're still waiting on theirs."
"Don't get me started on the gays. Coffee."
When I returned with his coffee (he should have thanked me for keeping it spit-free), he told me that since I'm American I probably only speak English.
I replied with, "actually I minored in French in college and speak it conversationally" (all in French).
While he was stunned with silence I decided to ask him where he was from, so I could remember who to associate with such pompous racial insensitivity. And with slightly accented French, he returned my question with another:
"Où tu pense?" (Where do you think?)
"Je ne sais pas, mais, possible, Allemagne?" (I don't know, but, maybe, Germany)
"Oui, presque la Fôret Noir." (Yes, near the Black Forest)
"Ah, maintenant je comprende pourquoi vous savez Français très bien." (Ah, now I understand why you know French so well).
The Brit looked on, lost. It was a relief to finally see that on someone else's face rather than to feel it on my own.
I decided to let it his rude and insensitive ways go until he made fun of Crishna, the 3 year old of one of our long-term guests. Crishna is an adorable boy who is mixed with gorgeously curly dark hair. When he came running down the hall to greet me with a high-five, the German commented, "Oh, here comes trouble."
A few moments later, he made another Obama crack.
"You know he's trouble when he looks just like that disappointment Obama."
"Well, good thing you're German, huh" I said with a huge smile.
"Actually I live in Singapore. Much better there, no blacks."
At this point, Benjamin Franklin chimed in with, "I hate it there. They don't have chewing gum. You can't smoke there. They fine you for jay walking and spitting, and they're always watching from the cameras. It's too bloody expensive there."
This began a debate on the pros and cons of living in Singapore: expensive and heavy on rules, but clean with high standards of living and no crime.
As for me, I was just happy to be living in a country that likes and respects America. I was suddenly grateful for my co-workers. And listening to Owen that night, I felt a little more respected and at home. Sure, they're pretty close-minded in general, but at least they aren't making me feel stupid for being an American.
They like me for it.