Or 48 Hours anyway

It was of course always intended - if only by your blogger here - that BHM would fly back to Europe on the 21^st, but lo it came to pass that we obtained a contract for a frankly disproportionate amount of wedge. I had suggested to the wonderful S that we quote an outrageous price for BHM to perform today, and we had done so, and BHM’s teeth were well gnashed when the client accepted, and he was committed to a four hour presentation some days after he was due to return to the land of the foreign devils.

So today for four hours BHM performed for a group of rather wonderful Chinese managers, a small rendition of “Working with other cultures”, and verily they were happy. And so, as it happens, was our company finance officer. As well he should be.

So after the performance, and the fond au-revoirs at the office, I returned to the apartment, and N and I went out for a meal at a local eatery, very good, very good indeed, and we had 100 year old eggs, which are not 100 years old, but about a month, but they have been BURIED for the month, and they turn black as they ferment, and the whites become translucent, a sort of amber colour, and quite delicious, served with chilli and soya sauce. We also had noodles and pork rolls, and rice, and meat with chillies, and beer, and it was the last real Chinese food I shall eat for a while.

For tomorrow dear reader, I fly to the UK by way of Copenhagen, and to an hotel in HEATHROW, and thence on a duty crawl around Britain for a few days, before I am off to Spain for a week, and USA for 2 weeks.

It’s been a pretty damn fine “tour of duty” this turn, and if anything I feel more attached to the team than ever. They have been “smashing”. I always feel a bit tearful in leaving, and this time is no exception. But I shall stay in touch by Skype, and will be back in December for my first Christmas in China, which I promise, dear reader, I shall blog with renewed vigour.

But for now, postings will continue on the “Beachhutman away from Beijing” pages, and at Windmill Street when I’m in Spain.

Until Monday then.

You can get a bit too relaxed, and a little language is a dangerous thing. Somtimes you forget "Wor bu shwor Jongwen hao!" - "I don't speak good Chinese" As BHM approaches the 18 month point here in Big BJ, he is acquiring, albeit poorly, some basic Chinese. Certainly cabs on the whole have become less of a challenge, with even the quite tricky “Wor Chu Douban Hutong ” now a daily normality, and less greeted with looks that seem to infer I am telling the driver that my mother is an axe murderer as I climb in. I can manage the suitable “tutty” comment or two on the road condition or the traffic, and even tell the driver to keep the change if it’s been a good ride. But there are still traps, when the normal range of Cabnese is just wildly inadequate.

So it was last night when I was in the company of V from Archers Anarchists, who briefly visiting Beijing. After a pleasant dinner in which the foibles of Ambridge were but one of the topics, I hailed a cab after dinner at the Dongsi Shitaio bridge, and told the driver to convey us to Qiang Qiang gouji fandian. The place is the Super House International Hotel, a Large Floodlit Pile right next to the east 3^rd ring road south.  He pointed East. No, I said, we want to go south. “Bu Dong! Wang nan!” I said. He shook his head, and repeated what I could only assume to be “Qiang Qiang gouji fandian” as he had an impenetrable accent, and make wild gestures to the east.

Eventually we set of south, him shaking his head and muttering. At the next intersection he stopped, and said with many gestures that now his intention was to go west. “Bu Se!”, or “no you bloody well are not!”  I said firmly, we are going south east. He grumbled, and argued, and repeated his apparently lunatic intention to take us to the forbidden city by way of Tiananmen square. At this point I got the map out, and showed him the hotel location. He said “ah” a lot, then pointed to the 4^th ring road on the map, and said “San Huan” which means “Third ring road”. But at least we abandoned the trip[ to points west and set off again. I got increasingly concerned as he set off again, but at least he was going approximately the right way.

Still he was muttering and looking desperately about, so I decided that desperate action was needed, and I called a colleague from work. Could she tell the guy where to go? I passed the phone over. At this point we were in the middle of three lanes of traffic, and he took his foot of the accelerator. This allowed the car to slow to a crawl between two honking lines of fast moving traffic as he listened to the instructions. He passed the phone back to me, and said “Ah!” a lot more. I was not convinced.

Shortly afterwards he turned off, and we headed east, which was generally OK, until I realised he wouldn’t recognise the third ring road if he was hit by it, an increasingly likely possibility, and I had to shout “YO!” quite a lot and point desperately right to get him to use the exit, but only after he had cut across three lanes of homebound traffic – he was obviously at that point still intending to head East for the 6^th as fast as possible.

On the southbound ring at last, he looked pretty desperate, clearly feeling that he had been hi-jacked by some mad Laowai, so I checked the exit in my map, and kept reciting “ShiLiHe Qiao” (ShiLiHe Bridge to him. He nodded a lot, but didn’t seem to wan to read the signs, and again save for several cries of “Yo!” and a lot of pointing, we would have sailed right past the exit we needed, over which towers the hotel.

When eventually, with a lot more “jow” and “Yo!” and “Jie xie!” we got to the hotel itself, he seemed reluctant to go into the lit approach road, and as the light came on for me to find my money, “another light came on”. He did not in any way resemble the driver whose driver registration number and picture was on the dashboard.

It is likely he was a relative from the country, just  driving the cab for pin money or to keep the meter running (cabs are owned by operating companies, and satellite tracked, so have to be in service for their whole shift).

Only later, as I was getting out, did I recall the other feature of Beijing cabs – a translation service delivered through the radio link to the base.

Mercifully, after dropping V off, I climbed into another. “Qingnian Lu, and step on it!” I said wearily.

“OK Mister!” he said, in English, and we had a trouble free ride home.

Or riding the Dragon. Whatever, it’s the Final Clichédown this week.

On Friday the training programme drew to an end, and I was SO-o glad to see the end of my trips to the Rosedale Hotel. Unfortunately I sighed too soon, as next morning took me back after a promise to take one of the guys gift shopping in Wangfujing. Still, it was a much less stressful day, ending up over a late lunch pizza in the Tree at Sanlitun.

Sunday was a lazy lazy day, lazy late rising, a lazy slow tripo to the shops, some lazy tidying of the apartment, and a lazy meal of Thai Chicken and Rice - it is good to cook again, as  almost every meal over two weeks has been out, oftenm na duty meal, and usually at the wrong time for the elderly and decrepit bHM constitution.

So here we are on Monday.

Thursday I have to do a cross cultural afternoon for a group of women managers here in Beijing, Thursday I fly out to London via Copenhagen. After some days I then fly to home via Malaga, take a short break, and then do two weeks in the USA.

So after the next weekend I shall switch the blog category to “Beachhutman Away From Beijing” and / or “Windmill Street”, my at-home-in-Spain blog, both links from here.

But for now, a hectic last few days lie ahead. Ride the dragon with me?

Escaping the course early, I arrived home to find N, who is lodging with me, ensconced, and later we did go to a local greasy chopstick joint, of a degree of simplicity that I (you get that "simplicity" euphemism?) with my inadequate Mandarin, would not venture into. There N did give me a good lesson on restaurant Chinese, possibly the most useful Chinese lesson I have had, and we did eat of the chicken bird with chillis, the pork meat with green peppers, and the spicy cabbage, complete with two large bottles of beer. Each. The bill, when it came, left us 5 Euros poorer. That's both, not each.

Anyway, aside from the pleasure of the meal, it was interesting not least because of this, the menu on the wall.

You will note that (a) there is no English on the menu, so one must either go with a Chinese reader, or (2)  pictures of stuff you'd like to eat, and a hopeful smile.

But also, you will note that every price on the board has been replaced. Not so long ago the Chinese restauranteur could invest in a painted menu, in the pretty secure knowledge that the prices would hold until`the menu needed re-painting anyway. Today, inflation has arrived, imported from China's dealings with the outside world. Restaurant menus, even in posh restaurants, are constantly updated with felt pens and paper patches. Rampant food price inflation is to blame; pork for instance, the staple meat, and the meat that you get when the menu just says "meat", has almost doubled in price in 18 months. Vegetables have gone up dramatically, maybe 60%. Even rice has puffed.

From the menu you can see that Tofu, for example, is now a wicked 8 Yuan a dish, which is almost a dollar. It was a cheap dish! 

And beer, FFS, is 3 Y a pint!

Will inflation madness never end?

I was doing a slide on "Doing business with Americans", and discovered that almost all the internet resources are to help Americans do buoiness witht he rest of the world. Hmm.

Anyway, I came up with:

• Direct eye contact shows trust and honesty, reserved behavior and indirect communication suggests that you have something to hide.

• •In meetings, state goals early, get down to business fast; “Time is money”.

• They are highly punctual and expect others to be the same

• •All deals are assessed by the gain, little value is given to a past relationship.

• •Conflict and debate in meetings is often viewed positively

• •All details must be in contracts, agreements must be precise.

• •People do not put much emphasis on titles, and you should have the authority to decide and authorize action

Anything to add from your own experience?