Day 3 (1)

August 23, 2010 - Xi'an, Shaanxi Provence, China

Another rainy day in Xi'an. It's rained nearly everyday since I arrived. It was lighter on Sunday, but still. It was raining the night I came in. And foggy. The whole city, a mass of blinking lights on municipal towers, Chinese characters scrawled in neon, and indecipherable street signs erupting out of every ill-paved surface, all bathed in a thick fog, reminded me of Blade Runner.

Xiao Liu met me downstairs to walk me over to Teaching Building #2 in order to help me register. It was raining harder than ever, and I had no umbrella of my own. I had planned to buy an umbrella the day before, but it wasn't raining, so you know how that goes. She shared her's with me, as she had on Saturday. The umbrella was only made for one, so one-half of my body was entirely soaked.


Rainy Days in Xi'an. "It often rains in the autumn here." - Xiao Liu.

We arrived at Teaching Building #2, I was told by some one to have a seat, then a number of people spoke Chinese very quickly around me. They stopped occasionally to ask me a question, very slowly and in English. I wasn't sure if they were speaking slowly for my benefit, or their own. I answered each question as best I could: "Yes, I tried to be very prepared." "Yes, I read about the medical exam." "I thought there was a registration form you would fax back to UNF." The director, who may or may not be my teacher, handed me a few slips of paper: One with directions to the health center, one a slip of paper to get a student card from the dining hall. He then very carefully and methodically cut out four photographs from the sheet of photos I had brought. I protested, laughing a bit in embarrassment to convey apology, I had meant to cut the photos out myself. I'm sorry. I even brought scissors with me. He continued to cut.

He instructed Xiao Liu on a number of things, all in Chinese. She had stood during the entire meeting, despite the number of open chairs and despite my suggestion that she sit. She often stands just to the edge of things. She waits in doorways, in lobbies, right outside of buildings, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She's very friendly, but perhaps she's not used to boys, or American boys at least. She always seems to find her way to the periphery.

Xiao Liu lead me out of the building. "Today is the day to buy an umbrella." I said. "Umbrella." She said in that odd way she has of repeating the very last word I say, as if it gives her just that much longer to process it. We both laughed. The nearest shop had umbrellas for quite cheap, almost half of what they sold for at the large market on Chang An. The selection was minimal, and I ended up with one that was sea foam green with a silver flower on one of its panes.

I had promised Xiao Liu lunch for all of her help, much to her protest. I insisted and told her on Saturday to pick a place. I said that we should eat her favorite dish. After I purchased my umbrella and we ran a few ancillary errands, we stopped for lunch on Shi Da Road.


Lunch on Shi Da. The restaurant where Xiao Liu and I had lunch. Note the pizza and coffee on the sign: This restaurant sells neither.

I asked her what we were having. "四川冒菜" (sìchuān Màocài lit. "Sichuan Brave Vegetables"), she said. Xiao Liu is a sweet, unassuming girl, and I had no idea what I was in for...



Sichuan Maocai (四川冒菜). The dish Xiao Liu and I had for lunch.

I'm not sure if you're familiar with Sichuan Province or the Sichuan style of cooking. Perhaps you don't recognize the spelling, the more popular English spelling for Sichuan is Szechuan. Ring any bells? Sichuan is known for its spicy food, very spicy food in fact. The hottest in Asian? Who knows. Anyway, the waitress at the restaurant brought our food out and set it down on the table. The dish consisted of a number of items: Potatoes (土豆), Bok Choy (白菜), and these sort of noodle-like things that are also made of potato. All of these items were sitting in a hearty bath of lava. Pure, unadulterated lava. It was the color and temperature of lava, anyway, and when when my mouth touched it I was burned the way I assume lava would burn.

Xiao Liu ate quickly, as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Had she not noticed they had accidently filled out bowls with magma rather than soup? I asked her what some of the ingrediants were. "That's tofu." She said. "And this?" "Potato." "This?" Also potato, but made differently." I picked up a piece of very dark tofu and asked her what it was, assuming it was the rotten tofu I'd heard about on the Food Network. She swallowed what was in her mouth and said, matter-of-factly, "Congealed sheep's blood."

Hmm. Magma and sheep's blood? This was quite a new experience for me.

She giggled as my nose started to run, and laughed when I asked for a second drink.


Shi Liu. A pomegranate beverage, to be paired with lava.

Xiao Liu was quite amused by my inexperience with spicy food. I vowed that before I leave Xi'an, I will be able to sit down with her and eat a whole bowl of Sichuan Maocai without shedding a single tear.

What does one do after a lunch of lava? How about a tour of the neighborhood?

To be continued...

Hayden