Since I complained so much about Chinese dinners when I first arrived, I think I’ll tell you about a fun Yantai dinner.
A few nights ago, Dave, Zorro and I went out in search of Japanese food. Our coworker Ron told us a place to go, and can I just mention how funny Chinese directions are? Except for Zorro, we’re all functionally illiterate, so it’s not simple. We rely on an elaborate series of landmarks and memory kennings. Go to the corner where we got out of the taxi on the night we got lost coming back from Jackie’s. Turn left when you you see a reddish sign that has the character “East” on it. Go upstairs.
Ron told me “when you sit down, your feet will hang” and I said “Will my feet hang, or just yours?” Because it’s always funny to laugh at the short guy!
We found the place, and it was really pretty with sliding translucent doors and a table on the floor. Dave and I just watched Memoirs of a Geisha and so I poured the boys tea and showed my wrist. Dave said “when we get home (he’s from Manhattan), we’ll go out for sushi in the city” and we pre-remininced about what we’ll say next year about our life in China. We were straining Zorro’s Chinese skills to order, and when we finally got our food, we weren’t entirely sure what it was.
Dave asked Zorro to try it to make sure there’s no pork in it, because Dave’s trying to keep kosher (in China. Haha!). Zorro agreed, and began the Buddhist prayers he always recites before eating.
