Thursday, July 06, 2006
FAGUO DUI!!!!
ALLEZ LES BLEUS!
Got home at 6:30am yesterday. The game came on at 3am, and what a game. Sat with Nick (Andrew left at halftime, tuckered out and not nearly as invested in the game as we were), Dennis, my Swiss friend from class, and all these Goddamn French people. I have been spending a lot of time with French people, and it's screwing up my Chinese--and my English--something fierce. In particular there are these two ravishing Parisiennes...
I have a little bit of a soft spot for les Parisiennes.
Anyhow. The game was stupendous. I'd napped all afternoon in preparation for staying out all night. I didn't want a repeat of the other night, when, after having awoken at 7 to go the Great Wall, I went on all cylinders, including playing two hours of ultimate outdoors in the baking sun, straight through till morning, and nearly passed out during the second half of France's, um, EPIC VICTORY over the Brazilians. After Ultimate, Mike and Andrew and I headed for--where was it?--Houhai, I think, and this restaurant Isaac had discovered. Called Luce, it was run by Chinese people who'd studied cooking in Italy. This yielded a curiously brief menu, but as long as it included an $8 steak, I was happy. We tasted red wine for the first time in weeks. Red wine is beautiful.
We'd been called there in large part to buttress Isaac's roommate Micah, who works for MTV China, and by some very complex process (engineered by his bosses or something) had ended up with a dinner date with this Chinese MTV VJ girl. Who had a boyfriend (Columbia Law School--how does it all always come back to Columbia in this country?) anyhow. So he needed backup. This we provided. From Luce, we adjourned to a club called Bed. On the way to Bed, however, we passed this little restaurant with tables parked outside in front of a small television playing the England-Portugal game. Potbellied Chinese men with their shirts rolled up to their armpits drinking draught Yanjing, eating chuan'r skewers, watching the game. Let me stress that this scene, PRECISELY this scene, was all I really ever asked from China. Like this was the image I've been carrying in my head all year. So when we walked PAST it, albeit reluctantly, to go to a silly club, I went a little round the bend. Didn't start hollering or anything, I went compliantly, but then proceeded to stand there, scowling, not speaking to anyone, in a cold fury until Nick, with infinite forebearance, took it upon himself to accompany me back to the place, which he, and all who joined us, agreed was much better than a damn club. What infuriated me was not that I didn't get what I want, but that no one else seemed to want to go, either, but that we were all sort of following no one in particular. Or possibly following this porcelain doll VJ. Who strangely for a television personality lacked, well, personality.
In any case we stayed there for the next four hours. Watched both games. It was phenomenal. By 5am it was fully light. Euphoria as France smothered the Brazilians. Singing the Marsellaise and the East is Red with drunk shirtless Chinese men.
They are throwing me out of the wangba. Maybe I can add more later. Maria full of grace is bringing me my computer soon. It's been a whirlwind week.
Got home at 6:30am yesterday. The game came on at 3am, and what a game. Sat with Nick (Andrew left at halftime, tuckered out and not nearly as invested in the game as we were), Dennis, my Swiss friend from class, and all these Goddamn French people. I have been spending a lot of time with French people, and it's screwing up my Chinese--and my English--something fierce. In particular there are these two ravishing Parisiennes...
I have a little bit of a soft spot for les Parisiennes.
Anyhow. The game was stupendous. I'd napped all afternoon in preparation for staying out all night. I didn't want a repeat of the other night, when, after having awoken at 7 to go the Great Wall, I went on all cylinders, including playing two hours of ultimate outdoors in the baking sun, straight through till morning, and nearly passed out during the second half of France's, um, EPIC VICTORY over the Brazilians. After Ultimate, Mike and Andrew and I headed for--where was it?--Houhai, I think, and this restaurant Isaac had discovered. Called Luce, it was run by Chinese people who'd studied cooking in Italy. This yielded a curiously brief menu, but as long as it included an $8 steak, I was happy. We tasted red wine for the first time in weeks. Red wine is beautiful.
We'd been called there in large part to buttress Isaac's roommate Micah, who works for MTV China, and by some very complex process (engineered by his bosses or something) had ended up with a dinner date with this Chinese MTV VJ girl. Who had a boyfriend (Columbia Law School--how does it all always come back to Columbia in this country?) anyhow. So he needed backup. This we provided. From Luce, we adjourned to a club called Bed. On the way to Bed, however, we passed this little restaurant with tables parked outside in front of a small television playing the England-Portugal game. Potbellied Chinese men with their shirts rolled up to their armpits drinking draught Yanjing, eating chuan'r skewers, watching the game. Let me stress that this scene, PRECISELY this scene, was all I really ever asked from China. Like this was the image I've been carrying in my head all year. So when we walked PAST it, albeit reluctantly, to go to a silly club, I went a little round the bend. Didn't start hollering or anything, I went compliantly, but then proceeded to stand there, scowling, not speaking to anyone, in a cold fury until Nick, with infinite forebearance, took it upon himself to accompany me back to the place, which he, and all who joined us, agreed was much better than a damn club. What infuriated me was not that I didn't get what I want, but that no one else seemed to want to go, either, but that we were all sort of following no one in particular. Or possibly following this porcelain doll VJ. Who strangely for a television personality lacked, well, personality.
In any case we stayed there for the next four hours. Watched both games. It was phenomenal. By 5am it was fully light. Euphoria as France smothered the Brazilians. Singing the Marsellaise and the East is Red with drunk shirtless Chinese men.
They are throwing me out of the wangba. Maybe I can add more later. Maria full of grace is bringing me my computer soon. It's been a whirlwind week.
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