A Visit from Clay

In late June, Clay Padgett, a good friend from college, and my Kappa Sigma pledge dad came to visit me and visit China (I think mainly China). Clay has an interesting job, he’s an engineer for BP working on the North Slope of Alaska. Because living on the North Slope isn’t really sane of healthy, he works two weeks on with long hours and then has two weeks off. So with me as a free (if not qualified) travel guide, we headed around China. Below are a few of the more interesting occurrences from our travels.

On Clay’s second day here, we were checking out the People’s Park in central Shanghai. As we turned the corner into what we assumed would be another pleasant path, we encountered hordes of people, almost all of them old. Concurrently, we noticed pieces of paper everywhere, on the ground, taped to poles, pinned to trees, or attached to wires strung between the trees. I couldn’t quite make out much of what was written on the pieces of paper, but they seemed to be descriptions of people. Some of them even had pictures attached. My first impression was that they were missing persons forms, and these were parents trying to find missing children. This was because most of the descriptions were for people in their twenties or thirties. Luckily, a group of three young Chinese people asked me if I knew what was going on. I told them what I thought, but they informed me that no, these weren’t missing children, this was a live personal ad fair…or rather, more accurately, arranged marriage fair. I say this because the parents were advertising their children, and from what I later gathered, the children weren’t all aware of this. The three young Chinese weren’t there to find mates, but rather were visiting it as tourists, as they weren’t from Shanghai, but had Shanghai friends that had recommended they check out the spectacle.

And a spectacle it was. There were probably between 750 and 1,000 papers advertising potential wives or husbands. This may seem crazy, but understanding that Chinese people place large value on the family, and that with the one child policy being thirty years old, there are lots of Chinese people in their fifties and sixties waiting on the one daughter or son to produce the cherished grandchild. So, I had some fun with it, and talked to two different fathers about their daughters. After I walked up, one father busted a folder out of his bag and started showing me more pictures. Unfortunately, when he found out I was 22 he quickly rebuked my offer, as I was far too young (and they say love knows no age). As I talked with him, an entrepreneurial Cupid imitator came up and showed me a few different pictures on her cell phone. She was quite the businesswoman, with folders full of the advertising sheets, and digital photos to match on the cell phone. She offered me her sister, but I am hoping that she was using the term in the Chinese way (loosely, for affection) and wasn’t really going to give her sister’s hand to some foreign dude who speaks pre-school level Chinese.

More on the romantic and awkward front occurred in Beijing. On three different occasions, Clay and I were approached by pairs of young Chinese girls. It happened when we were heading to or out of popular tourist sites. They kind of sauntered up and asked where we were from or if we spoke English. Two of the three pairs said they wanted to practice English and talk with foreigners. This is absolutely normal and common. They seemed pretty believable when telling me where they were from or what they did. The desire to speak English is certainly normal, but coming up to foreigners, especially in a place like Beijing-where foreigners aren’t such a novelty, isn’t. Each time, they would suggest that we go join them for a cup of tea or bear or something similar. I have read somewhere to be careful for people in China who will invite foreigners to tea, and then the foreigners get stuck with a hefty bill (which is then kicked back to the inviters). So, Clay and I denied all the invitations, but did chat with them as far as we were walking. I’d like to think that they were being honest, but there’s definitely something inside of me that thinks they may be swindlers, or possibly even prostitutes (or hairdressers as they act as here).

My tour guide services almost failed big time when we were leaving Beijing. We bought the tickets at the main Beijing station upon our arrival. Before when the train leaves from another station, the ticket sellers have warned me of this. Not this time. I was a fool and never looked at the ticket. As we entered the station, I couldn’t find our train on the board, and Clay goes “It says Beijing South, does that mean anything?” I cursed to myself and said, “yep, it means we’re moving”. So we raced out of the station, into a taxi, and made our way across the city, and ran to our train with three minutes to spare. On an “I am an idiot” side note, I’d like to say I haven't done this again, but did it just three weeks later in Shanghai.