Out and About in Shenyang

Three days. He was evicted from the piano. 

E played the piano that sits in the lobby of our building. He played beautifully, of course, but he is not an employee of the hotel, and his playing was unauthorized.  How long do you think it will be until we see a new sign on the piano, telling people not to play it?

Why doesn’t love a good mango slushy? And who doesn’t love a mango slushy that is so tall, it makes you think to yourself: “Holy sh*t, how am I ever going to finish this whole thing?”

Spicy as heck fish, swimming in a broth flavored with peppercorns and dried hot peppers. Delivered to our table, still boiling in the ceramic dish that it was cooked in.

R and M, you guys would approve! Yum yum!

Meat on a stick is a wonderful thing, and what makes it even wonderfuller is being able to imitate The Wolverine from X-Men with your meaty sticks.

I took the family out for dinner to a little noodle place that I like. It’s not fancy, but the noodles are made fresh in-house. We ordered our respective flavors of noodle soup, then went to sit down and wait for our food.

In a few minutes, they called out our number, meaning that our noodles were ready. My kids went to pick up our noodles. Three bowls of noodles appeared on our table.

But there were four of us. And we ordered four bowls of noodles.

We assumed that S’s noodles just took longer to prepare, and that they would call out our number in a minute or two, announcing that her noodles were done. The kids were hungry, and S told them to start eating.

A few minutes passed. No noodles appeared for S.

She went to go check on her noodles. Where are my noodles? she asked.

The restaurant employees looked at her with a dumbfounded expression. What? Your noodles aren’t ready? A furious argument broke out in the kitchen. Recriminations bounced back and forth. You forgot to make her noodles! You are a person of less than average intelligence! Your lack of a sense of customer service causes people not to want to eat in our restaurant! Their shrieks echoed throughout the kitchen and rolled out into the restaurant. How can you make her stand here, noodle-less and hungry?!

After about ten minutes of waiting, the kids and I had finished our noodles, and S still was without noodles. Finally she decided that she just would get her money back.

More dumbfounded expression. What? You want your money back? After we worked so hard to make your noodles?

But you didn’t make my noodles, S pointed out. You made me wait, and now we’re finished eating and want to leave, so I want my money back for the noodles that you didn’t make.

But we’re making your noodles now! they countered.

You’ve been making my noodles for 30 minutes, and I haven’t seen any noodles, S stated calmly. So please give me my money back, and we’ll try again next time.

Yes! Next time! We will certainly make your noodles for you quickly and promptly, they vowed. Your noodles will not be tardy next time!

I wasn’t surprised at the drama over a bowl of noodles, but I was surprised that S actually got her money back.

Where else but in China can a bowl of noodles cause so much drama?

Otherwise she probably wouldn’t have let you out of the house while wearing that.

 Last week my Ayi, who probably thinks that I have mental problems or am a hopeless incompetent, both of which are likely to be the case,left me a note. “Your ceiling fell in. If you’d like, I can talk with the building management when I come next week.”

Implied message: or you can call them yourself, dope.

  

In my defense, the ceiling was in my guest bathroom, which I never go into. Still, the damage was pretty obvious. It’s hard to take a bath when the ceiling is in the bathtub.

  

Communicating the problem to the front desk was a challenge as well. They didn’t seem to understand exactly what I was saying

Me: “My ceiling fell in.”

Them: Stunned silence. “What?” Implied response: Ceilings don’t fall in. Not in our perfect building, you crazy foreigner, what have you been drinking?

Off in the distance, a bellhop calls out to me: “Good morning!”

I whip out my phone, show them the photo of the hole where the ceiling used to be.

Me: “See? The ceiling fell in.”

Them: “Do you want us to fix it for you?”

Another employee walks past, calling out to me: “Have a nice day!”

Me: “Yes of course I want you to fix it. Right now would be a good time.”

Them: “Can we go into your apartment to fix it?”

Me: (Thinking: how else the hell you going to fix it?!) “Why, yes, you sure can.”

When I got home that night, the ceiling was “fixed.”

I suspect they didn’t want to do a very good job of fixing the ceiling, because they expected to fall in again in the very near future. I wouldn’t be surprised if that happened, either. 

This announcement on a local website for ex-pats:

Two parks along Hunhe River in downtown Shenyang will open campingsites.

浑河沿岸的两大公园将设置帐篷区。

In the west of Shengli (shèng lì) Bridge, Changbaidao (cháng bái dǎo) Forest Park’s campingsite is located on the southern bank of the river with a total area of 50,000 sqm.

长白岛森林公园的帐篷区已初步划定，位于浑河南岸胜利桥西侧，占地5万平方米。

The other place you can pitch a tent is in Shenshuiwan (shěn shuǐ wān)Park.

沈水湾公园也将规划帐篷区。

But for safety, people can’t stay overnight or barbecue in the campgrounds.

鉴于安全考虑，帐篷区严禁烧烤，也不可过夜。

 So, the camping trip goes like this: we go to the park, pitch our tents, not light campfires, and when it gets dark, we pack up our tents, go home and sleep in our own beds.

I swear to God I am not making this up. Here’s the URL: