It's never just a quick trip to the store... and other tales (PART ONE)

I have already touched on the fact that being one in seven foreigners in Taigu earns you... well, a certain kind of celebrity status. This aspect is deeply ingrained into our everyday lives. Everything from what we are seen eating to who we are with and where we are have potential to become newsworthy. Shu Lishan is seen buying fruit at North Yard! She then says hi to her student and buys... milk tea! Even on my first day of class one of my student's revealed that they had seen me on the bus to go to the supermarket and excitedly announced the date and time.

Of course, with such a high profile even the most remote semblance of privacy is lost. Much of the time my first (and only reaction) to this treatment is to laugh and be embarrassed. However, sometimes I get overwhelmed, frustrated, or even furious. Generally though, being a superstar (what our students seemed to have learned to call all famous people...) turns being so different into something special, sometimes even sought after, instead of something freakish and unwanted. Thus, the great majority of the time I am grateful for this treatment. 

This topic brings to mind three events of the past few weeks. For unknown reasons, one particular week in early November saw my celebrity status in Taigu rise to unforeseen heights. I will dish out these stories in three parts due to their length.

PART 1: It began with what I thought to be a quick afternoon trip to the store. Of course, this assumption in itself showcases my ignorance, because in my experience in China, and perhaps especially Taigu, it's never just a quick trip to the store.       

家家利 Jiajiali: The aforementioned store

After taking the 10-minute bus ride to Taigu city (the closet supermarket), I began to quickly browse the store and fill my arms with all the items not available on campus (pretty much everything). When I went to grab a shopping basket near the front door, a woman scolded me, stating that I could not leave the store with merchandise. A woman beside her immediately reprimanded her saying, "Don't bother, she doesn't understand anyway." After slavishly studying Chinese for four years I do not take kindly to these kinds of remarks so I rambunctiously replied, "Actually I do understand." To which the woman countered by dropping her jaw on the floor and immediately setting into a barrage of the usual questions: where are you from... what are you doing here in Taigu... are you accustomed to eating Chinese food... how long have you been studying Chinese... how did you study Chinese so well... can I have your phone number?

Within two minutes of her following me around the store and asking me questions she decided we would be best friends. 你交一个朋友吧！"How about you make a friend!" What else could I say? 可以. "Sure." After giving her my phone number (what was I thinking!?), she preceded to link arm and arm with me (not at all unusual upon first meeting Chinese young women), insisted on carrying my basket for me (SO embarrassing), and helped me pick out the rest of the things I needed (also embarrassing). I learned quickly that she was a 25 year old Taigu native, married with a young son, who used to be a tour guide for a travel company. She now worked for a beauty product company at one of the supermarket's counters and apparently had very flexible hours. It seemed as though it was this flexibility that allowed her to lackadaisically stroll the store arm in arm with a random foreigner instead of manning her post.

Once finished with my shopping she offered to take me to the bus stop, which I refused three times to no avail. There comes a time when you just have to give in and let people do embarrassingly polite things for you or else you are actually being rude. Also, I mentioned that she was a Taigu local, which means that my normally pretty high listening comprehension rate was crippled by her thick Taigu accent. I explained that I first needed to buy cat food then return to campus at which point she decided it would be best if she took me home herself. Conveniently, it seemed it was just about time to leave work... hmm... She then disappeared to apparently retrieve some kind of vehicle. I realized with horror that if she came back with a bicycle there was a good chance I would fall off the back onto Taigu's main unpaved, rough, dusty, bumpy road.. and probably die. At the time I had never successfully perched on the back of a bicycle (see the below picture for an example of the ease at which people do this death defying feat). I held my breath and was overjoyed to see her return with a bright pink electric bike with a tiny tiny tiny seat on the back... for me! 

She graciously took me to buy cat food and then dropped me off at the main gate of the campus. The ride was harrowing, speeding over ditches, through dirt and dust clouds, barely dodging oncoming traffic, all while frantically clutching the large bags of stuff I had just purchased, and trying not to tumble off the bike. However, in the end I absolutely loved it, and her kindness and generosity far outshone her inappropriate forwardness. She did not in fact want to kidnap me (the thought may have crossed my mind...), but instead wanted to learn more about me and experience something different and new. Isn't this why I've been plopped down in rural China? Also, I can't say I'm not wanting for more friends... why not. However, a couple days later she gave me a call and I awkwardly told her I was busy (I was!). I didn't actually get her number and my phone has no caller id so now the fate of our friendship rests firmly in her hands. It's been almost a month and she has not called again and I have not seen her at the store. I am still unsure whether or not this is my loss.