sofasurfers

So I found myself at dinner – as you do as a couchsurfer who can only
expect the unexpected – with the local expat band: three Argentine
jazz cats and an American singer. The guys are all talking in Spanish
to what turned out to be the band’s biggest fan who was taking them
all out for dinner. “Do you wanna know what they’re talking about,”
says the singer in a conspiratorial whisper to me. Yes! Why not…
“They’re asking the Chinese girl if the chilli [the very considerable
amount of chilli, that is] affects Chinese people as much as us when
they do a Number Two.” What appropriate dinner conversation - thank
you, boys. Well?! What’s the answer? No – of course not. But it begs
another question – what’s the Chinese euphemism for Ones and Twos?
“Sing a song!” says the Number One Fan. “When we want to go for a pee,
we say we want to go singing.” And…? What about Number Twos?
“Dancing!”
The band (called Lush, by the by) then recount how they were recently
interviewed by the local magazine and were asked to say what they
don’t like about Kunming… “Well, you know how much the locals stare
at Westerners?” one explained. “Well, when you go to the urinals, they
REALLY stare.”
Then, suddenly, I find a chicken’s claw on my plate: “Welcome to
Kunming!” says the singer. “If you eat too many chicken claws,” adds
Number One Fan, “they say your writing becomes really messy.” However
my host had heard otherwise: “If you get the claw, it means you get a
prostitute that night.” I was just girding myself to have a go –
because I like to have an informed opinion on these matters – when the
singer swiftly returned it to its home, an oily soup in the centre of
the table, only for my host to swiftly claim it for himself, in an
unconcealed act of manliness. And proceeded to suck on it (I’m sorry –
facts are facts). How is it, I ask. “It tastes like chicken,” he says
nonchalantly.