America! I like Bush!
Trip Start
May 29, 2007
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7
10
Trip End
Jun 28, 2007
Dunhuang, China
Friday, June 15, 2007
The place we stopped at was sort of a Chinese truck stop. These are strips of shops and restaurants on the side of highways that are kind of janky looking and usually have dirt floors and outdoor eating areas. This one had some dapan ji and lamian for sale, but I had already eaten in Turfan so I just watched the lady eat. The guy who ran the place was Uighur and didn't speak that much Chinese, but he gave me some tea and melon slices and told me that I need not pay them because I was a guest. That was really kind of cool, considering the fact that these guys rely on whoever comes through buying like 40 cents worth of food to make a living. He asked where I was from and when I said I was American he told me that he and the lady I was eating with were muslims, which could be seen as a non sequitur I suppose, but I knew why he said it. He then said, "Bush," to which I said, "Yes, he's the president." I think that's a pretty non-commital thing to say. He then said, "I like." What?! I was pretty sure that the only people on the planet who still like him are his family (and even with some of them it's questionable) and the 25% of Americans who think the apocalypse is imminent. I'm still trying to figure out if he was just being polite. I doubt it because I told him I was surprised and that I thought Bush was pretty bu hao.
Then a Chinese girl came over and asked the Hui woman I was with if I was Hui or foreign, pointing out that if I was indeed a Hui from the western part of China, then I was very blessed because I have really light skin, which makes me piaoliang (pretty). Dude, if that's the only requirement, it's on. I'm white as fuck. Then this old Uighur man, who was drunk as hell, came over to talk to us. He looked at me with a shocked expression and began to question my companions about my provenance. When he figured out I was American he sat down, stared at me, then gave me a thumbs up, smiled, and exclaimed, "America!" every 15-20 seconds. He was cool.
There was a table about 50 feet away with three Chinese business types eating their dinner, and the old man kept waving me over to sit with these three. Then all three of them started to wave to me as well. I went over to sit with them and they asked me, in English, "Where are you come from?" I responded in Chinese and they (like every single Chinese person I've spoken to, ever) told me my Chinese is really good. I know it's a compliment (and it must be total bullshit 90% of the time), but it is kind of funny. Imagine if you worked in a restaurant and a Japanese guy came in and ordered in English. Would it be odd of you to tell him his English was impressive? I know it's because there aren't that many foreigners here and the ones that do come can't even say "thank you" (dad, ahem), so it isn't really that strange.
Anyway, these three were determined to get me to drink some beer with them, regardless of the fact that I told them I didn't want to because the bus had no toilet, so I had to. I kept sipping from my cup and they were kind of like, "Come on, down that. Don't be a pansy." You know, in Chinese. I gave up and chugged what they gave me, which I would regret when the bus driver wouldn't stop for like 4 hours. They tried to get me to help them eat their chicken and noodles, too, but I was full and I don't really like chickens' feet, which was all that was left of the chicken from what I could tell. They made the guy bring out a plate and kept putting chicken bits on it, so I just said I'm a vegetarian. He said, "Oh, then eat the noodles." Sheesh. The old man came back over and taught me a small bit of a Uighur dance and everyone had to take photos of that. Really, everyone had to take photos of everything. I think I had 40 photos taken of me in 2 hours. It's kind of unnerving being the only laowai around sometimes.
The bus ride was heinous! The road through the desert is so bumpy that I doubted at times whether it's paved. The driver wasn't going to let some potholes salt his game, though. He took them all at about 70 MPH, causing us passengers to fly about 2 feet into the air off of our beds every 5-10 minuntes. I really didn't sleep at all, so I was kind of cranky when I got to Dunhuang. No more overnight buses, seriously. My hotel here is kind of posh for the likes of me, but it's still only $20. I mean, fuck, the shower is separated from the toilet by a curtain. Plus I have a big water dispenser and CCTV 11, my favorite channel (it's the Peking opera channel).
I haven't done anything, really. I went to the Mogao Caves but they weren't open because it was raining. It was to "preserve the caves and protect guests' safety." Right. More like, "There aren't enough people here to pay the 180 kuai entrance fee, so we're going home." I guess I'm going to have to get up early and go in the morning. Whatever happens, I'm seeing the goddamn caves I planned this trip around before I get on that train to Lanzhou tomorrow night.
Dunhuang has the greatest selection of restaurants ever. There are FOUR western cafes here if you care. But I'm avoiding that shit because my street is full of dumpling shops and Sichuanese restaurants. Sichuan food is the greatest culinary development the world has ever seen other than mashed potatoes, so I kind of want to move here. Plus you can get like 50 vegetable dumplings for like $1. I think I'm going to go do that now.
