Good old Gong Yi

OK, so I've been back home for a couple of days now, relaxing, getting back in shape (Opération Dépâtage), and relaxing even more.

After a sleepless night in Guangzhou (don't expect to come back before the sunrise when Sir Paul Hosking brings you out to experience GZ's party scene) and then another one in the long train ride, I finally get to Nanyang, in the southern part of my residential province. I then noticed how much, paradoxally, I missed cold and grey Henan. The reason why I like living in China so much is because it is so convenient and inexpensive to do pretty much everything, be it move, eat, drink, shop. In Guangzhou and other big cities, I didn't have that quite as much. In the area of Guangzhou where I was, there was nothing but huge buildings and rude ass cantonese people, I had to search endlessly to find food and more often than not, it was overpriced bland cantonese food. Bleh. As soon as I got to Nanyang though, I saw at least 10 noodle joints open, at walking distance of the train station. And it was 5 AM!

Even if the New Year was a week ago, the Chinese hadn't depleted their firework reserve and even at a time where normal people still sleep, they still threw hundreds of them everywhere, in the street, from rooftops, name it. And by "fireworks", I don't mean the cute colorful ones, but those that do POW! and nothing else. I don't know if it's the conditioning from my green collar days, but a few times I thought I was under attack. "41 ici N41E, contact, coordonnée 412856, trois Chinois ben saouls, en train d'en allumer un autre, je continue mon chemin vers la station d'autobus. Terminé."

So did I tell you how damn convenient it is to go anywhere in China?! There are millions of buses running between cities, all you need is a bit of Chinese skillz and you can go anywhere. So one hour later I was in Youtian (Henan Oil Field), to visit Davey and his family. It was pretty cool, but the superstar status gets a bit too overwhelming sometimes. It seems like every uncle or 2nd door neighbour wanted to talk to me, and when I showed signs that I don't understand shit, they just repeated louder and faster. They were like Australians, completely oblivious to the fact that SOME PEOPLE in the world do not understand their native language. And in this case, the language is not standard Mandarin, but heavily accented Henan village dialect... Picture yourself learning French for 5 months, feeling pretty confident about your ability to hold a simple conversation, then going to visit one of your friends in St-Trou-de-Nulle Part. An uncle of his wants to inquire about how long you have been in Québec, sneaks by your side and without greeting, shouts a speedy "FA TI IN BOUTTE T'T'ICITTE?!" and when he notices your incomprehension, shouts it even louder and faster. That should give you an idear. Most of the time, I just pretended I was asleep and thus, didn't hear the question.

But of course, that's a minor thing. Their hospitality was undeniable, and I had quite a lot of fun hanging out with Davey and his hometown friends, doing Chinese stuff. You know, eating hot pot, playing basketball, singing karaoke. Davey has a pretty cool hometown, a nice family, and a super cute niece.

I also went to visit Jackson, the gatekeeper of the foreign teachers appartments and a good friend of mine. Jackson lives a mere 30 minutes away by bike, so he came to pick me up in town so we can go to his village. On our way I bought 6 large bottles of beer for 10 kuai, I couldn't fucking believe it! It's like half the price as in Gongyi, which is already 20% of the Canadian price!

Jackson's parents live in a very small village and make a living harvesting sweet potatoes, peanuts, wheat, cotton and other crops. It is a pretty precarious job, especially when it's dry like these days. Needless to mention, they are not very wealthy. As they were cooking, Jackson asked me if I've ever seen an oven like theirs. I said yes, not pointing out that it was in a museum about colonial times... They treated us to an absolutely delicious meal, I felt truly honored to have these humble farmers share so generously the little that they own. On the way back, I gave some "monetary contribution" to Jackson, despite his relunctance. It's the damn least I could do.

The next day, I took the train back, nothing to mention there except the nice people I was sitting with. They were playing a card game that seemed like a modified version of "Trou d'cul" and they wanted me to join. I didn't understand much of what was going on but I kept winning anyway. They spoke some pretty good English, and one of them was calling the lowest card "the minimur", I didn't correct him because I thought it was pretty funny.

At the same time, I saw the train stations defiling through the window, meaning we were getting closer and closer to Gong Yi! Finally, I get out, Gong Yi is... grey. Pretty damn gray (because I don't wanna have to choose between British and American English). For the 5 days or so I've been back, there was a constant thick haze, pretty depressing especially considering the fact that nobody is around. But now, my friends are slowly coming back from their vacation, so the good times will roll again!