Beijing, Day 2- post guest blogger

12 02 2010

Everybody, let’s give a big hand for Theresa, guest blogger extraordinaire. Good, thanks, now back to the familiar voices you’ve come to know and love over the past 6 months (WHAT?! SIX MONTHS?!!!)

One more note about our delicious lunch that I truly cannot believe Theresa forgot- there was a ridiculously drunk man yelling at the waitress and needing help from TWO people to get the outdoor restroom. This was Theresa and Dorian’s first interaction with Chinese drunks- they get loaded at meals and they get really, really, really, REALLY loaded. There’s no tipsy- there’s only falling over. In fact, as we loaded into the van to leave, Zhong (sp?) said, “Maybe the drunk man fell in the toilet,” and giggled. Let me translate this into American for you- he fell in. They just say “maybe” to be polite.

We had some extra time so our kind hosts drove us to a Ming Tomb on the way back to town. There’s a mountain that has 13-15 (reports differ) sprinkled about. We went to the underground tomb which was fascinating but really couldn’t compare to our experience earlier in the day. We happily walked up the mound and down the 6 stories into the 5 enormous underground rooms and then happily walked back to the van after about half an hour. If we hadn’t conquered the Great Wall just a few hours prior, we would have been more impressed. The highlight of the park was the “No cell phone during thunderstorms!” signs that appeared every 15 feet or so. We’d read in a guidebook that a tourist (the rumor is German woman) was struck by lighting on the Great Wall and that she was using a cell phone at the time. The Chinese Tourism Bureau is taking no chances.

Blame the date stamp on Theresa’s camera.

That evening we were tired, exhilarated and starving. The only solution was Peter’s Tex Mex. That’s right, friends. It was only natural that Theresa and I would find a Tex Mex place in Beijing- I’m not sure why you didn’t anticipate it already. We had an exciting and confusing taxi ride to our destination (our cabbie had no idea where we were going and had to stop and get directions a few times) and much fiesta-ing was had. The uniforms were ridiculous. The margaritas were strong. The food was served on Texas shaped plates. Best of all, a lovely waitress handed me my Chimichanga with a Beijing “AR at the end of everything” accent- “ChimichangAR.” The entire table almost died stifling giggles.

The next day was our last. Perhaps Jeremiah will tell you what happens on Day 3? (In Chinese-English that means he will.)

love, Missy




One response

16 02 2010

gasp! i forgot the drunk man! forgive me!

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