My mum's in town and she loves Chinese babies
By Emily Ford |
July 2, 2012, Monday
|
Print Edition
Print Edition
I'M walking through downtown Shanghai with my mother, who's come to visit. It's slow progress, mainly because of my dear mum's fixation with Chinese babies.
Every time we see one she runs up close and waves in its face and shouts. The babies look petrified, but they can't get away.
"Nay ho!" She singsongs down at one. "Nay ho!"
"Mum," I say. "Mum. It's ni hao. Not 'nay ho'."
She spots another and swoops down on the unsuspecting child. "Nay ho!" She bellows. "Aren't they lovely?"
'Nay ho!'
I skulk behind her like an embarrassed teenager, but parents seem to love this eccentric English pensioner.
One father immediately strikes up a conversation about the upcoming London Olympics.
Although he doesn't say it, I definitely detect a hint of superiority in his voice.
While Beijing dazzled the world with fireworks, London is apparently planning to feature farm animals and rain. Luckily we are a self-deprecating race.
"It's fair enough," I think. "2008 was a great show, and we've had a recession, after all."
"Olympics!" My mum is still shouting at the little boy who is now cowering behind his father.
"O-lym-pics! Running!" she says making arm motions and puffing. "DO YOU LIKE RUNNING?"
After three days she has worked out the location of every Marks & Spencer in Shanghai and clearly feels like she knows her way around.
This is when the observations begin.
"People are actually quite tall aren't they?" she muses. "I've seen several tall men. And there are almost no fat people. It's a complete mystery how they manage to eat so much. And the girls all wear black."
"Yes, mum," I say wearily. "Some people are tall. Some are short. Some wear black. Others like bright colors. It really depends."
Annoyingly, my mum has seen a great deal more of China than I have, thanks to a tour she came on a few years ago, which packed an improbable number of sights into a three-week trip.
When we come to plan excursions, she has already been everywhere I want to go.
"Guilin?" I suggest.
"Oh we went to Gooling last time. The rock formations are quite something."
"Well there's a city called Hangzhou just outside Shanghai which I hear is very..." I say. "Oh Hang-zoo is very nice," she interrupts. "Lovely lake."
"How about Suzhou?" I say finally.
"Oh I've been to Sue's zoo." Her brow furrows in recollection.
"Emperor's garden!" she says triumphantly. I begin to think bad thoughts about the tour company.
That night we go for dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, a Hunanese place in the former French concession. Hunan is famous for its fiery food.
At Hunan restaurant
"Nothing too spicy," my mum instructs me as I leaf through the menu. "And no pork, it gives me indigestion. In fact, I'm not really eating red meat at the moment," she says. "I think I'll just have noodles."
I eye the spicy beef hotpot at the next table longingly.
"Mum," I say. "Mum. We're in China. You have to eat meat. Not eating meat here is like going to Bordeaux and saying 'I'll just have the water, thanks."
I realize I am talking to myself. She has spotted a baby and is already bearing down with a vengeance.
"Nay ho!" she is shouting, waving a pair of chopsticks aggressively. "Nay ho."
Every time we see one she runs up close and waves in its face and shouts. The babies look petrified, but they can't get away.
"Nay ho!" She singsongs down at one. "Nay ho!"
"Mum," I say. "Mum. It's ni hao. Not 'nay ho'."
She spots another and swoops down on the unsuspecting child. "Nay ho!" She bellows. "Aren't they lovely?"
'Nay ho!'
I skulk behind her like an embarrassed teenager, but parents seem to love this eccentric English pensioner.
One father immediately strikes up a conversation about the upcoming London Olympics.
Although he doesn't say it, I definitely detect a hint of superiority in his voice.
While Beijing dazzled the world with fireworks, London is apparently planning to feature farm animals and rain. Luckily we are a self-deprecating race.
"It's fair enough," I think. "2008 was a great show, and we've had a recession, after all."
"Olympics!" My mum is still shouting at the little boy who is now cowering behind his father.
"O-lym-pics! Running!" she says making arm motions and puffing. "DO YOU LIKE RUNNING?"
After three days she has worked out the location of every Marks & Spencer in Shanghai and clearly feels like she knows her way around.
This is when the observations begin.
"People are actually quite tall aren't they?" she muses. "I've seen several tall men. And there are almost no fat people. It's a complete mystery how they manage to eat so much. And the girls all wear black."
"Yes, mum," I say wearily. "Some people are tall. Some are short. Some wear black. Others like bright colors. It really depends."
Annoyingly, my mum has seen a great deal more of China than I have, thanks to a tour she came on a few years ago, which packed an improbable number of sights into a three-week trip.
When we come to plan excursions, she has already been everywhere I want to go.
"Guilin?" I suggest.
"Oh we went to Gooling last time. The rock formations are quite something."
"Well there's a city called Hangzhou just outside Shanghai which I hear is very..." I say. "Oh Hang-zoo is very nice," she interrupts. "Lovely lake."
"How about Suzhou?" I say finally.
"Oh I've been to Sue's zoo." Her brow furrows in recollection.
"Emperor's garden!" she says triumphantly. I begin to think bad thoughts about the tour company.
That night we go for dinner at one of my favorite restaurants, a Hunanese place in the former French concession. Hunan is famous for its fiery food.
At Hunan restaurant
"Nothing too spicy," my mum instructs me as I leaf through the menu. "And no pork, it gives me indigestion. In fact, I'm not really eating red meat at the moment," she says. "I think I'll just have noodles."
I eye the spicy beef hotpot at the next table longingly.
"Mum," I say. "Mum. We're in China. You have to eat meat. Not eating meat here is like going to Bordeaux and saying 'I'll just have the water, thanks."
I realize I am talking to myself. She has spotted a baby and is already bearing down with a vengeance.
"Nay ho!" she is shouting, waving a pair of chopsticks aggressively. "Nay ho."
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