September 13, 2017

I’d like to write about this short encounter that I had one afternoon, while I was strolling around campus enjoying the last of the few days off before the start of actual teaching, to illustrate a few key features of story-sharing:

1. You never know what stories you’ll hear, or when, or where, or how you’ll contribute to that story.

2. Stories don’t have to be intellectually profound, or long, but simply important to their teller.

But, first, as is my custom during these days when my water distiller is broken, I decided to stop by my favorite shop on campus to buy a few liters of water for the next two days. Stepping in, I smiled as I saw my friend, Mr. Dang, working the shop – we had met a few times earlier in the shop, and on the streets on campus, and he has made an effort each time to reach out and welcome me.

Last week, he rode by on his electric scooter on the street as I was walking on the sidewalk. He must have seen me, for he stopped about 20 meters ahead in the middle of the road, and waited for me to walk up. Once I was near, he turned to me and asked 你吃了没有?, which when translated to English means “Have you eaten or not?,” but as he explained, “in Chinese culture, this is what friends ask each other” when they meet, as the simple ‘hello’ is reserved for acquaintances, strangers, whereas friends receive the greeting that is more personal: you care about the person, whether they had eaten and how they are doing lately. You’re checking in as a friend would – and as my friend did.

In my visits to the store, and our ensuing conversations, I’ve learned quite a few things: Mr. Dang runs his shop every day during the school year from 6:30am when students get up for breakfast until 11:30pm when students go to bed, taking an hour and a half nap between 3:00pm and 4:30pm when a friend comes to watch the store. Students buy the hot dogs (beef, chicken, and pork mixture!) off the roller in a big rush at 7am (which is probably a good thing, since for the rest of the day they seem to be ignored as they roll endlessly, although they are also popular at 9pm; I’d just make sure I was at least the 21^st person to order one at night), and he sells at least 500 of those dogs a day. When students are not busy shopping, he watches videos/TV on a mini-portable TV, and he absolutely loves United States NBA teams, watching as many games as possible and listing off in Chinese for me every U.S. team he knows, but particularly those with famous Chinese basketball players.

Our chats every day seem to vary, and for an example, I’ll illustrate the general path that our conversation might take: He’s surprised I’m a vegetarian and don’t want one of those hot dogs, because meat is tasty and he has Muslim friends who have the best lamb in Wuwei, and speaking of Islam, let’s discuss the history of the country of Turkey, which is part of NATO, and there are other countries in NATO, too, to talk about beyond the premise of NATO itself, and surprisingly, Turkey in English can be both a country and a food, but I can’t eat that food either, since it’s meat, so he’ll take me tomorrow to this great mashed potato place down the street that used to be famous but then changed its name. So, I’d say we discuss about anything and everything as I sit in a chair in the back of the shop, while I sip a drink or eat a popsicle he has treated me, too, as other students walk by and see me, calling their friends to look at the foreigner in the shop, as they all enter to buy their drinks and snacks. I definitely help drum up some business for my friend.

On this particular day in the shop, however, it was the first of our conversations. With the customary 你吃了没有’s answered and with my two bottles of water picked up and ready for purchase, he asks me if he can add me on WeChat, which is an incredibly popular, and useful, app here in China (I’ll write a blog post about this app in the coming weeks). We cement our friendship by adding each other on WeChat, and he excitedly explains: I’ve sent you a song!

I open up the app, look at the song he sent, and the title is the Chinese name for the song “Hotel California” by The Eagles. Now, all of you reading this blog who know me know that I am not that well-versed in music (pun-intended), but the name sounds vaguely familiar.

In the time that I have had these vague recollections of the song, he has cleared off his chair in the shop and invites me to sit down. I’m a little, or a lot, unsure of what exactly is happening, but I sit down and he grabs my water and replaces it with his phone and a cigarette.

Now, I’m able to refuse the cigarette using my by-now-well-practiced skills of explaining that the doctor says I can’t smoke (or drink, or ride a bike without a helmet, or eat that strange organ), but I’m interested in where the conversation about this song will lead so I click play.

“Why do you like this song?” I ask.

“It’s my favorite American English song. I like the blues, and I play guitar so I really like it. I don’t understand the lyrics, but I understand the music. Wait. I understand one word – 1969 – but the rest I don’t understand, but I like it. Do you play guitar?”

“I can’t but I can play the saxophone (thanks Mom!)”

“That also is blues music. Do you like this song?”

“I do – but I haven’t heard it a lot before.”

“Really?” He seems slightly bemused that he knows the song better than I, an ‘actual American,’ do.

“Yep. Thanks for sharing your favorite song with me.”

“Next time you can share your favorite and I’ll show you my favorite Michael Jackson song.”

“Okay. Thanks for the water! Bye.

“You’re welcome. Goodbye” And in Chinese, his goodbye is 慢走 which literally translates ‘walk slowly,’ and take care.

I walk out, slowly, and see the next round of students entering the shop to buy hot dogs, a drink, or a popsicle. I had no idea that buying bottled water would turn into an impromptu blues session and discussion, but I’m glad it did. Our conversation wasn’t profound, but it was important, to Mr. Dang and myself, and we shared a bit of ourselves, our culture, with each other, and one thing he said will stick with me for a while on this Peace Corps journey.

‘I don’t understand [the lyrics], but I like the music and the song.’

Perhaps that is actually the key to successful story sharing: even when we don’t understand a story, we still listen and relate as best we are able, thereby open ourselves up to appreciating that story.