face your farce, dude

3.24.13

11:29am—The four ladies who played majhong are now playing cards and the cards are really big and the remaining eleven Chinese arrived at eight and weren’t they a bunch to consider.  Upon reflection I understand the interest with all things Chinese goes back to Marcella Ranagan so I don’t mean any disrespect but let’s call a child a child and may compassion not flee in the face of farce . 

Eight of the older Chinese finish egg fried rice and one loudly asks for another.  It’s a parade of one word imperatives: Beer!  Rice!  Egg!  The ladies are civilized but too many of them in yesterday’s kitchen and this morning’s kitchen led the way for the other, younger, country folk who don’t enter kitchens in Hubei but see it’s ok here, no it’s not ok.

The specious child entered with the eleven unkempt mass and went after Carl the Cock clucking and cooing like only an atheist can, almost causing the bird to fly down from the railing until the bird escaped.  A stunted boy, 17, maybe 18, striped short sleeve dress shirt opened with a white t-shirt and a gaudy gold chain around the neck sporting spiky black hair came into the kitchen aggressively looking for salt.  I led him out and gave him the shaker.  He smelled it like a piglet and said thank you.  Five minutes later little Kim Jong IL’s offspring springs a leak, beady eyes tightened, fat round, pasty white face that doesn’t  know how it fits around a full set of gray boned teeth. Everyone else has got their eggs where were you, dude?

Kim:  EGG! EGG!

J:  Shanti Shanti

Kim:  I want EGG

J:  Mayo, no cooks, have a seat.

Kim: EGGG EGGG I WANT

J:  Go TALK to your Leader

And he stormed out and went down the steps, to the nervous laughter of everyone in the room.  The leader who goes by Jo ignored my concern that one in his group was out of hand, yeah right this isn’t the first time.  Well the entire group is getting fed dinner tonight, little Kim better be on his best behavior. 

I must say I learn a lot about keeping your cool when there is no one claiming responsibility for a large group. Patience.  Jo, professionals take care of all the ordering for the group.  Take responsibility and show respect.  Remember, respect.  It was 17 cups of rice, twenty cups of black tea ordered, only four folks took.  And don’t skip out of town without paying your bill.

I gave Ramesh a green oryx soft stone cross when I congratulated him on his first voyage out of Nepal.  This morning I found it in the dining room and it’s in my pocket.  I should put it on, huh? I did, Maya giving me a saffron string and now I wear the cross for as long as it wants.

A distinguished looking tourist from Hawaii with a peace corp label on his clean gray t-shirt thinks the price of momos is fair but decides not to eat here, perhaps he’s doing research but he also doesn’t think I am from America.  Well, I can look like an Afghani I’m told, once in a while.  Almost eight months here is lucky.  You are so lucky.  I am here because my spirit needs peace.  Good luck stay away from these Chinese, maybe the next village on the other side of the mountain with thick forest will be far enough.  

Next week, again, it’s time for a visa.  I was asked how the job search is going.  No calls, no emails except me throwing a lemon to the west coast.  It’s the second time I almost took the bait to the kingdom.  It’s just not a place to live alone.  Should I email Antalya again?  Having something to look forward to could post me a bed in Detroit.  Two months there would be alright.  It’s a big freaking place, man.  Well it has to be downtown with the homeless. 

The sleeping seven stir above.  It is tranquil in the valley; the chorus of tree singers show no objections and play their melodies for everyone.  I think it would do Kim good to sit in a chair, strapped down if necessary, and listen to the calls of a better life than his right now.  Meditate, inflate, deflate, hibernate, gravitate, expectorate do it now, son, three hundred and fifty times and then we can move on.

Suraksha came to the room.  I knew she would because I had a choco-pie.  I ate it before she came.  I was hungry, kiddo.  How bout the coconut biscuits, gone, I was hungry and out she goes.  A dull headache persists.  And hunger.  I desire a hamburger and fries.  Yeah, that does you no good at all to think about this.

8:51pm—Kim and his unbridled bunch didn’t come up for dinner and that is fine.  I know it’s not good for business to wish for peace but peace will make you prosper and that was on the menu.  Two Ukrainians checked into room six, one says Americans eat their dessert before during and after their meals unlike us who eat after dinner.  Well, fraulein, in the afternoon my mother made puddings and pies and breads and they’d sit on the window sill and even the birds lined up for a crumb, the house would smell so good when we came home from school and sometimes I got the spoon or the bowl after pudding was made and I’d lick that pan clean, no soap necessary.  “Ah so traditional” she replied.  And I took their order, mashed potatoes with cheese tomato and onion, so traditional, hmm, veg fried rice, mother never made fried rice in her life, spinach soup, mother liked creamed spinach, that frozen kind which she’d chop and I later learned in life spinach tastes a lot better than the frozen creamed kind, a small pot of honey lemon tea and a snickers bar.    

Maybe a full moon tomorrow, tonight’s bright enough the folks check into their rooms together and orderly they close the doors behind them in unison.  Last night was fun, ya’ll can sure enjoy life, and it is worth mimicking if only to mock if it is necessary to show such boisterous behavior is nothing to laugh at unless you like being laughed at.  Good nite, sleep well.