Oreos and Ghandi = Two Powerful Forces
So I went back to the dentist again. They were expecting me this time, and I felt like I caused quite a stir when I walked in the clinic. Dental assistants momentarily stopped wiping the drool from their patients and looked up and whispered stuff in Chinese. I think if my Chinese is improving, I caught a snippet of something that sounded like “…and girlfriend, don’t even get me started on his gingivitis.” This time I didn’t have my interpreter, but that was ok, because we all knew why I was there. It went off without too much pain again. I think my dentist is digging me—subtle things like giggling when I spit and giving me extra Novocain. OK, enough with the dentist. I’m boring myself with it.
On the way back, though, I walked by a nice Western Style grocery store. As it turns out they had tons of imported Western food. Now, when I first came to China, idealistically, I thought I would blend in with the culture and not gravitate towards all things Western. I looked down on my weak, fellow Hemispheroids who couldn’t stay away from McDonald’s, KFC and soap. I have had the good fortune to travel some, and I pride myself with being flexible to my surroundings. All this is different in China though. China’s most endearing quality so far is that everything is so different. So I gravitate towards the familiar. I love China, but I am not Chinese, nor will they ever confuse me with being Chinese. For some reason, accepting all this has made things go a bit smoother. So immediately after I went to the dentist, I bought a bunch of Oreos and chocolate chip cookies. We must keep things balanced. No?
My ankle was feeling good enough for me to play some basketball today. It felt good to be out there again after my three day hiatus from hoops. I think everybody on the entire planet loves Michael Jordan. Sometimes when I’m wearing my Carolina shorts, they come up and say “Michael Jordan–very good.” This makes me proud, but being the evil person I am I can’t just agree. First I act confused about who Michael Jordan is. Then…as if finally pulling the obscure figure out of my brain…I say, “Oh, that old guy who used to play for the Washington Wizards.” So, like I said earlier, everybody loves Michael Jordan (except Knick’s fans). Michael Jordan is the Gandhi of the twenty-first century, except he probably eats more, and he represents a company that exploits labor in third world countries…but except for that. Gandhi.
It’s frustrating that China can not experience the younger, dunking Jamie. Instead they see the past-his-basketball-playing-prime-but-still-likes-to-talk-trash Jamie. I apologize for talking about myself in the third person. Reminiscing about the good old days (five years ago when I was 23) brings out the jock in me. Jamie will try to refrain from that nasty habit. Don’t be alarmed, mom. All my trash talking is good natured and down right cheesy. Unfortunately, being cheesy is one bad trait I can’t blame on the bad ankle. I say stuff like, “how does is feel knowing you are about the 1.4 billionest worst basketball player in your country?” And when I block one of their shots into the rice patties, I get a concerned look on my face and say in my crummy Chinese accent. “Hăo chī ma?” Which means roughly “delicious?” or “taste good?” This usually cracks em’ up, which is why I am in China after all.
I don’t draw quite as many spectators as before. I think the novelty factor is wearing off. I used to think I was drawing big crowds because they had never seen basketball played with such flair and panache, but then I noticed I was drawing the same sized of crowds buying lettuce at the market and getting my hair cut at the hairdresser. Foreigners are cute and playful, especially when they have shampoo in their hair and don’t know they are being watched.
Ok, I know I owe a lot of…er…all of you an E-mail. I promise I will get around to it. It’s just that each and every one of is very special to me… in… exactly… the… same… way. So rather than spoil some of you with a reply to your E-mail, but not others; I am choosing to withhold my love from all of you collectively. It’s really communism in its purest essence. (to anybody who is monitoring my blog in China understand “purest essence” is an American idiom for “best form of government”). This corny blog will have to do for now. I will be adding pictures soon, so check back to see some really neat pictures of me eating rice with Chinese people. You don’t want to miss it.
