wanderer

There is a book called 'Never eat alone'.  The title is convincing enough to remind readers that lunch is the best social event to build the network, develop the ties with connections, blahblah. I haven't checked the content of this self-improving tome. Maybe I would not. A few months ago, I casually asked the Korean guy, Ming-hwan, next to my desk, 'did you have lunch, yet?...Wanna go out together?' and we went out for lunch every weekday ever since.

Ming-hwan is a super gentle guy, he bows to every acquaintance on the way to cafeteria. He is an Orthodox, against the mainstream Protestant Christian in Korean people, so he fingers out a cross before the meal.  Sometimes his cell rings while we are in a chat, he quickly stands up and excuses himself with an apologetic smile and answers the phone a few steps away. Mostly the call is from his wife, with an English name Jenny. Jenny is a nurse in Los Angeles area, quite far from where we live. 'Yawase-er...', the next word is believed to be his wife's cooing name, which sounds sugary and sissy. Ming-hwan is soft-spoken, anyway. He is willing to answer my inquiries on his projects, more eager to inform me of anything about Korea. Every international in the US is happy to be his/her mother country's volunteer goodwill ambassador. First I asked his comment on the president-elect Myung-bak Lee, Ming-hwan elaborated in detail about Mr Lee's performance as being the mayor of Seoul, his hometown. He paused a lot, struggling to find the right words. Then I asked him Mr Lee's campaign promise, 3 7's for Korean's economy and the canal project connecting two big rivers, he seemed a bit surprised by these questions, after we went back to the office, he searched the web and digged out the right statement from the official source.

Soon our conversatoin covers up nearly all the topics of Korean I have knowledge of. There might be a misleading tendency as I initiated the talk over pizza or sandwiches, since Ming-hwan is more of a silent guy, a tad shy even in front of no strangers. I always ask something about Korea, which is not necessarily the whole of my general curiosity. Ming-hwan took it other way, he might think of me a Korean-philic. Gradually he offered other stories, like why mad cow cartoon is so funny; there are millions of Kim's in Korea, but did you know Kim's are different in their own eyes, which can be traced back to a south shore fish village long long time ago when China was in its prime Ming dynasty?  As he started his own talk, he started feeling the trouble giving a smooth narration,  using plenty of gestures, and the normally well-cautioned pronouciation 'th', 'r' becoming difficult. He hasn't been in the US for quite long, after all. When an explanation took about 10 minutes, I guiltily sought the chance to direct the chat elsewhere, 'Look, the sky today is particularly blue...it's azure!' Ming-hwan firmly believed I am a Korean culture enthuasiast, the next day if I didn't talk something else, he resumed his story. I had to make effort to distract, asking his wife, their marriage, dating story. Soon the trend went into unncessary trivia, I started to watch sport center rewind on TV in the cafe, and commented on baseball or basketball. Those are not Ming-hwan's interest. Occasionally, there were some embarassing silence over the lunch table now. But I can't go out lunch by myself, facing Ming-hwan's inquiring eyes when the clock ticks about 12, I know it is so against the unspoken loyalty and tight brotherhood in Korean men. 

Probably Ming-hwan felt similar burden doing lunch with me. There were occasions he noticed me he couldn't make it due to this appointment, or that meeting. His tone already said enough of sorry. I followed suit telling a pretext once or twice. Nonetheless, not going out together seemed out of the picture for both of us, we were very careful and dutiful showing our respect to other culture. Later Ming-hwan's relatives visited him. He took 10-day off companying them, first he showed them around and then flew to L.A. for more sightseeing. I was alone eating again. I grabbed the food to a corner table, wandering in mind, took a peek at pass-by pretty girls, and fat ones. Out of the blue, I was reminded of the book, and thought of another guy in the office. Quickly I dismissed the idea and decided to bite my solitude alone in the clamorous dinner hall.

The next time Ming-hwan went back to work, he was with a lunch box. 'My wife said I gained weight, so I will prepare my lunchbox from now on.' He smiled. 'Oh, great. Yes, we should keep an eye on our diet.' I replied, suddenly feeling a loss and relief. 'I will not eat in the office,' Ming-hwan continued, ' I will still go out with you for lunch, I'll heat my food and bring it over there.' He assured me.

So the situation went on. Both of us explored other topics, but the interests waned soon. We watched more TV during our short lunch time. Now it was more like part of the work, we needed to do it. More and more I felt I could use lunch time to enjoy something else, so I decided to explictly signal Ming-hwan,at a right moment, that we are not to continue this ritual. Not until his wife was in town for half a month visiting. Jenny was preparing for a certificate exam, she came at  lunch time to pick up Ming-hwan, said hi to me, smiled and then left. During the second last day of her stay, Ming-hwan told me, 'My wife is very sorry that we leave you alone these days, she knows we lunch together everyday, so she would like to invite you tomorrow for lunch, it's on her.'

It was very pleasant to meet Jenny. She offered quite different point of view regarding Korean culture, marriage, Kungfu movies, Jet Li and so on. She dominated the chat with enthused laugh, while Ming-hwan was smiling by the side. It reminded me of the first few outings with Ming-hwan, but with born linguistic talent and socilizing nature on the feminine side, Jenny offered better. I was thinking of that book again, 'Oh, I see,' there was an eurika moment. The essence of making the best of lunch is to meet new face, I don't need to spend 25 bucks on that book to get the idea, I got it now. This is uniquely helpful for nerdy guys like me and Ming-hwan, Jenny showed me a perfect example, 'I should ask the Romania guy for lunch later.' I said to myself.

We walked out of the resturant, with bubble tea in hand. Jenny was to go home, she farewelled us with an earnest smile towards me, 'It was very nice meeting you, I'm so glad Ming-hwan has such a nice colleague. I'm so sorry for interrupting you guys' lunch meeting. You guys should resume after I leave, definitely.'

Zuoma, Ramu and Yimu carried 19 bags and luggage with them to the train, each to the fullest capacity. They spoke furiously fast when they arranged their stuff into corners and nooks in the cabin. Their company at the next cabin occasionally poked head in to take a peek. When the train moved, they brought out instant noodles, cookies, pork jerky, etc on the table and began their first meal. Yimu, the youngest one, opened a jar of spicy Sichuan chili sauce, carefully pasted it on every item she ate. They spoke Tibetan, which sounds a mix of Arabia and Uygur. Ramu stir the noodle well, finished half of it, and then passed it to Zuoma.  Zuoma shook her head and sniffed her nose. She seemed having a cold. Yimu took it. As they were done, they cleaned the mess and all went to lavatory for wash, then came back to the berth and trimmed the hair and put cream on the face and hand. Zuoma looked up at the 3 other passengers in the cabin, and initiated a chat.  Her mandarin sounds bizarrely exotic, most tones are wrong, mingled with many Sichuan dialect usage and phrases, yet easy to understand. Ramu and Yimu sit along the lower berth. They commented on something with a smile, yet they avoided the direct conversation with the strangers in the cabin, let Zuoma carry on the conversation.

Where are you going? Mianyang? We are going to Chengdu... Yes, we are Tibetan, we are doing small business in Shanghai. Tired of it, now we go home... Yes, we will take another train back to Tibet… The business, oh, we sell jewelry, some natural stones and silvers from Tibet. We set up ground stalls here and there…No, they don’t allow us to do that, we don’t have a license, but they know we are Tibetans, so they let us go. No fine. Oh, the business is not good, so we want to quit for now…Maybe we are going to another city next year... Shanghai men are stingy, do not like them. Yes, some buyers are from Hong Kong and Taiwan, a few are foreigners. Some foreigners are bad, the other day I talked to that long nose guy…No, I don’t know English, I just can say ‘halluo’, ‘natural stone’, ‘Tibet’…that long nose guy checked all my inventory, asking this and that, I don’t know what he’s saying. Then I said ‘one hundred’ (for an item), he said ‘ten’, that is, ‘shi’, and I said ‘fuck you’, and he murmured some words and walked away. Ramu and Yimu were laughing. Yes, I have been to Guangzhou and Beijing, and Shenzhen. I understand Cantonese…I know lots of dialects, I don’t know how to speak. Maybe we are going to Guangzhou next year, haven’t decided it yet.

Ramu lied on the berth quietly, while Yimu was playing with her cell phone. Some Chinese pop songs were played from the gadget, coarse and loud. They enjoyed the background music competing the cycled monotonous train broadcasting.  There were also 2 English songs by Backstreets Boys. 

How old am I? Take a guess…? Woha, if I were really in 20s or 30s, I could wake myself up laughing in dreams. I am 42 years old le. My son is 19 years old, already. He’s asking me to find him a wife le. Ramu and Yimu were laughing and added some Tibetan comments. She is 29, Zouma pointed to Ramu and Ramu nodded. She is young…20 or 21, She pointed to Yimu, she wanted to marry a man so much now. Yimu laughed, covering her mouth with a hand. We Tibetan marry early, not like you Han, our Tibetan men look very old at 30s already …yes, we have family planning policy, we can have 2 children. I have a son and a daughter. A few years ago, we could have as many as we wanted. It’s not that fun to have many kids, don’t you agree…? Yes, we can marry Han people, err, the parents may be against it, but if they think their daughter is in good hands, they would allow it…No, no, no religious taboo. My daughter? I’ll let her marry a Tibetan man, haha. Yimu’s cell phone now played a Backstreet Boys. Yes, we listen to Chinese songs, we like it. She bought some English songs (from cell phone company), Zuoma turned her head to Yimu, I don’t know English, not like it… Of course we have Tibetan songs, but we don’t sing it here, only when we are at home. Yimu played her cell phone and selected a Tibetan Song. It was the Tibetan genre and Tibetan singer, but singing in Chinese. I like Wang Lihong. My son said, ‘MuMa, Wang Lihong is so cool, I worship him.’ So I began to worship him, he looks very handsome. They seemed to mix the meaning of ‘like’ and ‘worship’ in mandarin. She likes Liu Dehua, Zuoma referred to Ramu, Ramu smiled and nodded again, I don’t like Liu Dehua… Oh, she only likes Zhao Benshan. Zuoma connected the highly popular country comedian Zhao with her youngest partner Yimu. Yimu felt embarrassed, burst some words to deny.

 Ramu took out some snacks and sealed small cakes from a supermarket shopping bucket and invited the guys to share. Zuoma continued her conversation. Please!  Take some... We like salty cookies, that young girl loves those sweet cakes…Why do I like Han pop star? Because they look cute, you Han men look young, they use a lot of face wash. Some look like women... Our Tibetan men look tasty, hmm, if you go to Tibet, you can smell the mutton and sheep milk, cow milk from our men, very tasty, haha…We are all from Ricaze, do you know it? A town close to Lhasa, 5 yuan bus from Lhasa, the bus station is right at our village… Yes, many people are out for business, we don’t have many land to grow, we are Sheppard. We raise sheep and bison… It’s hard being away from home, we have been in Shanghai for almost two years, didn’t go back last new year. We miss our home...

The cold syndrome seemed to make Zuoma a little lethargic. She pulled out three kinds of pill boxes and asking if she could take them together. We didn’t go to many school, you see… I don’t know much of Chinese characters, we can speak, we can understand, know very little on how to write and read…Yes, they taught children both Tibetan and Mandarin, you know nowadays Tibetan is not very useful…There are many Sichuan people in Tibet, many mandarin teachers are from Sichuan too, so we sound like Sichuan dialect. We love Sichuan, Chengdu, Mianyang, we love to hear Sichuan accent. But you Sichuan men are lazy. They do nothing but play Mahjong every day, then drink tea and eat hot pot. No, I’m not saying you three are among them …Yes, we like spicy food, very used to it… Yimu interrupted, I can’t live without chili saucy.

Ramu released her aloofness and shyness, also joined the chat. Her previous curt words gradually extended into detailed explanation. She told Tibetans eat almost everything. But the Tibetan Buddha monks don’t eat sea food, strictly, anything living in water. Festered by the headache, Zuoma excused herself and climbed on the middle berth to take a nap after her cold pills. Yimu became more willing to answer inquiries, but she was still shy of speaking to strangers. She went to the train lavatory for a while and then came back directly into her upper berth and retreated herself into sleep.

Ramu is soft-spoken. She is more open than she poised to be.  She wears Tibetan styled ear-rings and a silver trinket on her right nose side. Her hair is long, permed and dyed into brown in a stylish way. Like Zuoma, Ramu doesn’t have the plateau red on her face that features high elevation folks. Yimu does. Ramu is conscious of her looking. When Zuoma was chatting like an entertainer, Ramu pulled out the mirror and checked her face from time to time. The next morning when she woke up, the first thing she did was to grab the mirror and faced against the co-cabin guests to reorganize her face and hair till she believed she was ready, after a while she turned around to find her clean-up bag.

So you are going to Mianyang? My brother is having school in there. Do you know which school is the best in Mianyang? Oh, I see…I don’t know what school he is at (smile). We paid a lot of tuition to let him study there. He is 19... I don’t think I will stop by his place, my parents are in Chengdu, we have bought apartment in there. Lots of Tibetan bought houses in Chengdu. We are going to stay there for some days and take train or plane back to Home… Yes, we celebrate Chinese New Year. Tibetan New Year is in July or August, we are usually too busy by then. Back in Tibet, it is the biggest event, lots of activities are going on, the monks from other places come to Potala Palace for help... Yeah, it’s very cold in Tibet now. But we just stay at home and don’t go out, we have fire in the house, it’s like, err, yes, Kang, the northern Chinese heated bed, we just have many friends over and gather together having fun. The next day we switched to another girl’s house. You know the house is very spacious and warm, we can enjoy ourselves…we drink a lot, sing and dance all day long. When I am not in Tibet, I never drink. Of course we sing Tibetan songs, we sing our own songs…Yes, our whole family is going back, many people in the house, very busy New Year…hmm, It has been nearly 10 years since I started doing the business... I am 29, married, but I don’t have a child, which is very unusual in Tibet. We grow fast in Tibet (smile), so we marry younger than you Han people. Yimu wants to get married soon… How did I meet my husband? Hmm, we were in the same place, he’s a good man, very nice to me no matter what, so I married him. Very simple, I don’t have to worry about the marriage. Ramu lowered her voice. Zuoma used to have a big trouble in her marriage, but she’s over it now. I am a simple person, I believe in my man, don’t want trouble, I just go out every year to make money, wish my brother could finish school soon…My brother stays in Sichuan after school? That’s fine, I don’t think my parents will be against that. It’s also Okay if he finds a Han wife. It’s always good to go to higher school. If you meet a Tibetan who went to college, you will hear standard mandarin from him, not like our accent…Our accent is beautiful? (big smile)

Yes, we wear Tibetan costumes when we sell jewels. We women sell the natural patterned stone and jade. We also have bison skin and sheep skin, and lumbers. But men take care of those businesses. Ramu opened one of her carry-on bags and pulled out a necklace. You see the stone with this pattern? That was found years ago by some people in Tibet. Now if you polish it into smaller shape, the pattern is still there, not like those knockoffs with shallow surface pattern on it. No, it is not found lately, it is from years ago, we collect the stones and sell them…This is the necklace I just assembled with the jade beads. Ramu showed a string of necklace and wore it on her neck. The center stone was about 2cm by 4cm in size, white in substance, a series of unique deep green pattern developed throughout the whole body. It dazzled with amazingly mystic beauty. Then she searched the bag for another necklace and handed over two hand-laces, one green and one deep brown. Jade is always an auspicious jewel to wear. It blesses you. Ramu claimed while switching to another necklace. Some of the stones are 100 years old. It could cost tens of thousands of yuan or even more.

Zuoma and Yimu were in sound sleep. Ramu talked about her partners. Zuoma is 37, not 42…Yes, she lied. She likes to joke (smile). Her son is 12, doing school in Ricaze. Now it costs 30-40yuan from Lhasa to Ricaze by bus. She lied again (smile). She is a strong woman, her man listened to her. I followed her the first few years I was doing business. Yimu wants to have a man. She is a girl who can love a person very much, do anything for him. But if he is doing something bad, she will hate him very much, do anything to him. She is very active actually, not to you Han strange men. Once she mimicked Zhao Benshan in our place, everyone laughs to death. (After the dinner time, while only the 3 women stay awake, Yimu was doing the broadcasting girl’s studied speech sentence by sentence, the compressed laughter lasted into the midnight.)  We are together these couple years, maybe not next year. But I’m going somewhere for sure. Tibetans go to everywhere. Some are in Hong Kong and Taiwan, they are doing very well, but it is hard to get there.  I know I am going to spend more time in Sichuan, or elsewhere, and less and less time in Ricaze, but once every few months, I want to go home. The longer I am away, the harder I want to come back. Yes, Chengdu is very nice, Chengdu is not Ricaze.

After 24 hours of running, the train climbed into Mount Qingling and entered Sichuan. The scene along the railway is not much different except the plants and vegetables are all fresh green. People become a bit uncomfortable but excited that the long journey would end soon, Zuoma and Co played a popular Sichuan poker game killing time. Obviously they are not good at it, two other guys in the cabin were eager to offer consult by the side, it all ended regretful mistakes that advice not being taken. Yimu showed her frisky side, every time she won, she felt like dancing or singing something. Zuoma thanked her consultants, saying she would have lost lots of money if she ever gambles. The train was drawing closer to Mianyang, 3 guys were to exit. Ramu helped to pull out the luggage. If you ever visit to Tibet, welcome to see us, she offered, Tibet is a beautiful place. Zuoma conceded, Yimu was staring the strangers and nodded. This uncommitted invitation sounds abstractly inviting and sincere in their peculiar accent.

At dusk the next day, the train stopped at Mianyang station. Ramu helped carry their travel mate’s luggage to the exit. Yimu and Zuoma bent near the window and waved goodbye to their unnamed strangers. Soon the three women were out of sight as the seemingly endlessly long train moved forward into the darkness. Zuoma, Ramu and Yimu are among the groups of Tibetans making living in the big cities of China, year in and year out.  They live their lives by Tibetan’s will and Tibetan’s heart.

Zuoma(left), Ramu(center) and Yimu(right).