I was planning to write a note here not just about Xi’an but more importantly about the Xi’anese, as it is really the life of the people here that makes it a great place to live. I will however begin with a less than glorious portrayal of a Xi’anese person I came across during the first few months of being here. At the time, it was a little frustrating, verging on amazing but was subsequently quite amusing. Consequently, the story has stuck with me.
I was with my girlfriend lost in one of these vast furniture warehouses they have here in Xi’an. For those that do not know that here in China if you wish to buy a light or an oven or some paint or a valve or a sink or a sofa, you do not just go down to your local shop or even local multi-store. Here, you end up either on a street full of 50 lights shops or within a huge mall full of 50 light shops. This often means that, even if you were excited about buying the light in the first place you certainly aren’t in the end, though, it may still look all right back at home.
To continue, my girlfriend and I found ourselves lost, somehow, traversing the staff stairwell, up and down and a little in confusion, until we stumbled into the bright light of what was a supermarket full of your everyday necessities, quite normal. That was, until a hand roughly rested on my shoulder which I turned to round to find belonged to a young security guard who was looking angrily at the two of us and shouting something, something that at that point for me was utterly incomprehensible. Although, even with the hindsight of understanding, I would still look upon his words as incomprehensible. He was telling us that we could not enter the supermarket from that particular entrance, as it was for the staff only. We explained that we were lost and had stumbled unwittingly upon it. He repeated that we could not enter the supermarket that way.
We then pointed out that we understood that but that we were now in the supermarket, with all the other people and we wouldn’t do it again. He repeated his words. I, now a little annoyed, explained to him, as clearly as an annoyed lao3 wai4 (foreigner) can with very little Chinese, that we are now in the supermarket, it is no longer important how we got there and that we would endeavour to leave through the appropriate exit. He responded with the words: “You cannot come into the supermarket this way”. This was now becoming an issue and we were quickly becoming the centre of attention. So, to appease all, I punched him flat on the ground…No I didn’t. I, listening to my girlfriend – who I must say had of course born the brunt of his frustration and was becoming a little embarrassed by all the fuss – respectfully retreated back the way we had come, while muttering this and that about the Chinese under my breath as I did so.
It has just struck me that although I am often critical of the western media being particularly negative, when I am faced here with giving an example of life and the people in Xi’an I too have chosen a less than glorious example. I like the people here and very much enjoy living amongst them but it is interesting that my mind first moved to a negative, though amusing, portrayal of a Xi’anese person and, what at the time was, a frustrating experience. I will correct that in future notes. We cannot after all have the Chinese being tagged on a whim by a western mind now can we?
Tags: Xi'an
西安