Taking a Walk - A Female Expat's Memoir

Taking a Walk - A Female Expat's Memoir
CAStafford Oct 03, 2014 12:56

Last night my friend and I were taking a stroll down the streets of Beijing on the way to the park. We do this about every three or four days, and we know the route well. We also know what not to expect – the chance that anyone will speak to us. Why? Because we’re in a big city, we’re not Chinese, and we probably look like we don’t speak Chinese. So we walk in our own little world, not really looking at our surroundings much, not really noticing anybody unless it’s out of the ordinary. And even then, only one of us might notice while the other is oblivious.

 

We were chatting about the men who made us happy. The guys who were both cute and sweet and wished we could have one just like that. I’m pretty sure my arms were flailing about, as they tend to do when I get into intense conversations while I’m walking. Talking about cute, sweet men makes me very excited these days, and so this was one of the more animated conversations. Just then, I heard a voice.

 

“Excuse me, ladies…”

 

Now, in my head, my initial thought was, “Wow, isn’t that weird? Just talking about cute, sweet guys makes me hear the voice of a man speaking English.” It took my brain a few seconds to grasp the reality of the situation. There was a man directly in front of us speaking to us in English. When I saw him I could almost swear I heard that sound you might hear if you were to encounter an angelic being. You know the scene – a beam of light surrounds them, shooting out magnificent rays, and a choir of angels sings out in a long, drawn out, “aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh.” It’s a heavenly sound.

 

My friend and I stopped. We were in shock…..and awe. Standing before us was a young, tall, handsome, blonde haired, blue eyed man with a motorcycle, smiling at us.

 

I have to pause here for a second and explain something to those who have never lived in Beijing. Foreigners (people who aren’t from here) almost never, ever look at another foreigner passing them in the street, let alone speak to them. I don’t really know why this is, it’s just one of those bizarro things you run into on the streets of Beijing. At first, I tried to make eye contact, to smile, to say “hey!” But there is rarely any reciprocity, so I have also now become one of the non-smiling, non-hello saying, non-look-you-in-the eye people. And another thing is, most foreign men look like they just crawled out of bed, (probably someone else’s), and threw on the same clothes they’d been wearing for the past week without taking a shower, shaving, or bothering to brush their teeth.

 

“Do either of you ladies know where I can find a shop?” His accent sounded German. Or was it British?

 

Seconds passed. We didn’t know how to respond. What kind of shop was he referring to? A motorcycle shop? A clothing shop? A shop where gorgeous men go to do whatever gorgeous men do to make themselves more gorgeous?

 

“A shop?” I said, in a way that came out sounding slightly British, with a twist of snobbery. (I’ve watched way too many Jane Austin flicks!)

 

“Yes, a shop.”

 

“What kind of shop?” I asked.

 

“A shop that sells drinks.”

 

Now this was not the kind of shop I had envisioned in my mind at all. I had to regroup. And why wasn’t my friend speaking? Why was I having to do this all by myself? I could barely stand, for goodness sake!

 

“What kind of drink?” I said, smiling, and acting a little flirtatious. Ooh, I was getting more bold.

 

“Just any kind of drink, like water or juice or something.” He looked like a model. How could anyone who needed a drink so desperately look that good?

 

My friend still wasn’t talking. She was too busy standing there with her mouth gaping open.

 

I had to think smart. I couldn’t give him the wrong information or he would end up not being able to get his drink in a timely manner. I had to pull myself together and remember that this was my neighborhood. I come here all the time. If anyone knows where to get a drink around here, it’s me. I stood up straight, and put on my best adult demeanor, directing him to the mall just up the street where he could find a McDonald’s.

 

He was smiling. Did he want one of us to get on the back of his bike and show him how to get to the shop where he could buy his drink? These were the thoughts going through our heads, but we couldn’t speak them. Of course, only one of us could have gotten on the bike, leaving the other behind. Were we so shallow and desperate for a man that we would actually do something like that? Oh, the dilemma!

 

He said thank you, and my friend and I stepped back, almost stumbling into each other. After he was out of sight, we began to giggle like high school girls. It was as if we’d just met Brad Pitt or something. For goodness sake, we’re two intelligent adult women, but for some reason the sight of a tall white man with blue eyes speaking English made us go all weak in the knees.

 

“I think he was an angel. He’s a sign of something coming,” I said.

 

“You think so?” my friend said.

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

We walked on, giggling about the man on the motorcycle until we reached home, and even a little after that, wondering if he ever found a shop to buy his drink.

Tags:Relationships Expat Tales

3 Comments

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venencia

kkkkkkkkkk

Nov 12, 2014 13:43 Report Abuse

royceH

Thanks for your post. You're a good writer, please keep them coming.

Oct 16, 2014 19:15 Report Abuse

coineineagh

I can imagine. Chinese guys aren't particularly handsome, kind, let alone gentlemanly. Since "laowai" in BJ aren't that rare, you won't get any polite interest, just the base rudeness and disdain that Chinese have for Aliens. The capital houses a lot of Red Guard bully families, who made their wealth executing the brave/intelligent/difference-makers, and starving farmers. Quite a few of the foreign men here are basically sex pests, so expats on the streets are cautious to greet others. For a single woman, Beijing is probably the worst place in the world to be. I can imagine why you deified a handsome guy for asking a polite question.

Oct 11, 2014 14:06 Report Abuse