Naturally I stalked the poor fellow, quickly zooming ahead of him to lie in wait with my camera, then following him to snap more photos of the poor lad.  Creepy?  Maybe. Ok, yes.  But it was for the sake of honest reporting!

Just for fun, spotted on Google street view.  The text at the bottom says “Report a problem.”

side profile sketch of swollen-faced guy

He was just walking along as if everything was normal.  The swelling was so extreme that rather than look like an abnormal face, it almost looked like the normal face of an alien from Star Trek or something.  It was really almost twice the size of a normal face, both wider towards the cheeks and also considerably longer, even enlarging his lips, making the face look more like the head of a horse than of a person.

So my question is, does anyone have any idea what kind of problem this poor guy is having?

And on a related note, I occasionally see people with some sort of blackening on the skin of their face.  Sometimes it’s just a small area, seemingly a bit dotted, and sometimes it’s more than half of their face.  What is that? I’ve seen it in Beijing and now also in Shanghai.

Information, anyone?

A kid on our flight had a fever, and I was sitting in a nearby row, so about sixty people or so are here at Shanghai’s Beineng hotel for the night.  Tomorrow they’ll test the kid for swine flu. if he’s got the pig, we’re all here for a week, and if not then we leave tomorrow.

Quarantine begins with almost 3 hours of THIS STUFF on the plane.

The medical bunnies had a thermo-scanner that looked like the barcode gun at a supermarket.  they would point it at your forehead, with four red laser dots making a square.  A little display would tell the doc your temperature.

The hotel was out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by farmland and what looks like worker-dormitories.  I guess that makes sense for a quarantine location… The hotel was the Shanghai Baineng Hotel, and can be found on Google Maps by searching: “上海百能大酒店” even if it doesn’t show up in chinese on your computer, it should work if you copy/paste. Or possibly LINK.

So far this has all been pretty convenient.  Veg dinner, breakfast brought to the room, nice friendly hotel fully staffed with people in bunny suits (I believe that’s the technical term), and a bouquet of flowers brought after breakfast.  (This is what a full bunny suit looks like, I just wish they had rabbit ears and a cotton-fluffy tail:)

–bren@quarantine
ps JUST RELEASED from quarantine with a certificate of non-swine-fluidity!

Swine Flu

THAT PERSON IS ACCORDING TO THE CLOTHING

Another good one in the tradition of the “Wall paper delicacy museum,” “nine-head bird hotel,” and “the filthy pelf!“

Later, I discovered that it was my English that was at fault, not theirs.  Apparently, “pelf” is just another word for “lucre”!  How embarrassing that I didn’t know!

"Therefore I am going to steal the filthy pelf from the corrupt officials!"

Still, I don’t know if it’s as funny as the “Wall paper delicacy museum“!  Of course, I also liked the “Nine-head bird hotel“.

Chinglish sign: "wall paper delicacy museum"

Any ideas?  Concerns or fears?  hopes?  Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound very tasty…  Makes me think of an old dried glue taste, but with paisleys.

Leave a comment!

What is the best compliment you’ve ever gotten in your entire life? Alternately (or in addition), tell us about the most backhanded or worst compliment you’ve ever received. Was it the fact that it came from a certain person that made it so good/bad? Or was it the culmination of events leading up to it? The world wants to know!

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Everywhere you go in this world, you will find good people.  The people of every culture have their own ways of expressing kindness, hospitality, and friendliness.  Sometimes the mode of expression is unfamiliar or confusing, and sometimes something just goes awry with the whole interaction.

I’ve been studying Mandarin Chinese for a few years now, and by any reasonable expectation I should be able to use it with a certain amount of ease by now.  Far from fluent, I should nevertheless be able to manage most casual interactions.  Really, I think I fall short of those expectations by quite a bit.  This is not modesty on my part, either, lest anyone accuse me of being modest.  (Really? I mean, have you SEEN my blog?)  So it’s always a pleasant reassurance when I manage to communicate successfully in Chinese, and a particular treat to be complimented.

But lets not overdo it, shall we?

On a regular basis during my travels, the occasion does arise that I might greet someone I have never before met.  Ah! Here’s a perfect chance to practice my Chinese!

“Hello,” I say to them.

“WHOA! You speak Chinese!” Is rather often the reply.

I can understand that it might still be a little bit jarring for a round-eyed ghost like myself to speak Chinese, but the number of foreigners living and even working in China has grown quickly in the past decade. Besides that, several publishers have come out with excellent foreign phrasebooks specifically designed to teach travelers a few useful sentences in the local lingo.  Is it really so shocking that sometimes a foreigner might have been initiated into the secret way in which over a billion people say “hello”?

Sometimes it seems that polite compliments are given a little too easily.  I may start to doubt the sincerity of your amazement with my skills if the praise is given too quickly!

Ah but it gets more interesting…

Where were we? Oh yes: “WHOA! You speak Chinese!”

I blush at the sidewalk, grind the toe of one foot against the ground bashfully and reply “Well, a little bit.”

“HEAVENS!  You speak like a native Chinese person!”

“No, I really need more practice…” My whole face is red by this point.

“NO! NO NO NO!  You speak Chinese perfectly!  You speak better than a native Chinese person! Better than me!”  He’s gesturing excitedly and pointing at me now.  Seriously, I’m not that good.  And this is freaking me out.

He continues, now asking me how many years I’ve been in China.

Having just come from my hotel, and suffering from jetlag still, I give the first response that comes to mind.  “I just got here three days ago.”

“THREE DAYS! THREE DAYS!” He’s shrieking, bouncing a little, and looks ready to pull his hair out in clumps. “You’re so smart!  You learned Chinese in three days!”

“No, wait a second,” I stammer.  “I’ve been studying Chinese for three years already in school!”  I try to dig up through the oppressively heavy praise, looking for a little shaft of light to restore normality to the situation.

It fails, and now I have to recount every detail of my academic background to this person.  Really, I only wanted to buy a bottle of water.  Maybe doling out friendliness is expected to result in a reciprocal amount of sales.  Maybe foreigners just don’t tend to wander down this street I’m strolling.  Or it may be that, once having made a commitment to compliment, my new friend is just reluctant to back down.

Whatever the case may be, I would like to explain that this EXACT CONVERSATION is played out almost every single day that I spend traveling in China.  There’s no way to avoid it, it just has to be endured as a precursor to any other communication.  This conversation, perhaps verbatim, will come before discussing the price for that t-shirt, trinket, or ice cream.  It will initiate your relationship with every member of your local friend’s family.  And far too often, it is the inevitable consequence of just saying “hello.”

Naturally, I’ve occasionally gotten a small measure of revenge in kind.

Thats when I, the foreigner, a wallet with legs, deliberately walk slowly through a market street. I dare to LOOK towards a shop.

“Hello.  Please come in?” Shopkeepers in every part of the world seem to be able to speak enough English to do business.

“WOW!” I reply in utter shock.  “YOU SPEAK ENGLISH SO WELL!!!!!!!!!!! REALLY! Your accent is perfect!  You speak English as well as a native person!  As well as I do!  How did you learn to speak English so well!!?!??!?”

This is tricky.  If you show any insincerity, you’re just being rude.  But if you can maintain a perfect act, you can gush praise until a person has to either sink or swim.

Yeah. That’s karma coming back.

“You… travel with two passports,” he asked slyly.

In fact I knew that he was really saying “I saw that fake passport you just slipped back into your pocket.”  He was trying to trick me into saying something that would incriminate myself.

I had to conceal my terror or his suspicions would lead me to a Malaysian jail instead of back across the border to Singapore where I belonged.

My problem was unfortunately pretty simple.  The officer in front of me was holding my US passport in his hand, and a conspicuously absent entry visa served as clear proof that I had entered the country illegally.   And now, the man with the badge, uniform, and authority to imprison me wanted to find out how, where, and why I had gotten into his country without the Immigration Department’s knowledge.

The why part of it was the easiest….

I had come for a party.

The trouble is, could smiling and explaining the truth possibly make my story believable?

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Will Brendan be incarcerated in a foreign prison and forced to work on the chain gang in hot weather and high humidity?  Will trained monkeys attempting to steal fruit unintentionally help him to escape?  What incredible foods were served at the party, and was it buffet style?

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To find out what happened, learn international smuggling techniques, or possibly get YOURSELF invited to an awesome party (no, not really), please leave a comment!