As terribly awkward situations go, being set up with a tall Chinese girl who didn’t speak English must rate fairly highly up the list. However, more on this later…
In the last post, I left our intrepid adventurer in the freezing mists of Yuan Yang having returned from a successful trip to see its famous rice terraces. The next stop on my travels was Kunming, capital of the Yunan province and serious party city (or so I was told). Accompanying me on the seven hour bus trip were my three fellow travellers from Yuan Yang, who all assured me that they knew a great hostel in Kunming and an even better bar. “You’ll love it… well you’ll hate it at the time. But afterwards you’ll love it!”. The full story came out in drips and drabs, the three of them virtually unable to get the words out they were laughing so hard. Apparently the story goes something like this…
An American, A Frenchman and a German walk into a bar, sit down and then proceed to be befriended by a group of drunken Chinese guys. One of the Chinese guys then proceeds to talk in unintelligible English/Chinese at them for a few hours spitting in their faces the whole time, whilst the others dance like complete fools, constantly trying to get the Westerners up and dancing. This was hardly the world’s most convincing pitch – yet somehow I still managed to end up i the club being pushed towards a giant Chinese girl (I’m afraid your still going to have to keep waiting on this one…).
Anyway, after a blissfully smooth seven hour journey we arrived in Kunming and settled down in our luxury 4 bed ok-but-nothing-special dormitory in a big hostel called “The Hump”. Now, for those of you who have travelled in Asia the idea of a hostel might sound a little strange. They don’t really exist in South-East Asia. In Thailand and its neighbours there is no need for them. Cheap guesthouses offer you the privacy of your own room for a pittance, and locals have been quick to pick up on exactly what backpackers want and can afford. In China things work slightly differently. There are still cheap guesthouses, but “cheap” means something very different – something far more Western in terms of pricing. Thus, hostels are back on the menu and bedding down in China feels very similar to the European backpacking experience.
The view from our hostel
After settling down I went to explore the city. Kunming is a wonderfully relaxed city. Despite having between three and six million people depending on what boundary you use, the city centre itself feels small and pleasant. On the night which I stayed there was a night market in the main square. Here various traders tried to peddle their goods, the young played with flying disc toys, and a five year old kid tried to impress the world with his dancing talents on a China Mobile stage – all in all the whole place just had a friendly vibe coursing through it. Yet this was all to change on the sixteenth strike of the clock. Come 8pm the whole centre had turned into a seething throng of drunkenness, and let me get one thing straight right now: The Chinese cannot hold their liquor! With groups of young Chinese men and women wandering the streets, throwing up, singing and swaying, and the time not even yet past the watershed, there was only one thing to do: start drinking!
A few beers in the hostel, led to another few beers in a terrible bar cum-club (see above) and eventually on to the dance floor. Suddenly I found myself alone. Where had my former partners in crime gone? And why had they abandoned me with a bunch of Chinese students eager to use what little English they had? In the end, I just went with it. What else was there to do? Boogieing away to such classic 90s tracks (cutting-edge in Chinese music tastes) as “Let me be your fantasy” and various remixes of the seminal works by the Backstreet Boys (THE band among 20 year old Chinese men!), I was certainly in another universe. But the night was about to get even stranger. Apparently dating in China is very practical matter. Indeed, the logic of my Chinese friends appears to have gone something along the lines of: “you are tall… she is tall… you are perfect for each other!”. In fact they pretty much told me this was the case while acting confused as I protested that I had a girlfriend that I was perfectly happy with thankyouverymuch. Despite this and other firm rejections, I somehow found myself in a Chinese circle with a tall Chinese girl, clearly considered freakishly tall by her male Chinese friends but just under 6′ in truth, expected to get it on. She looked as embarrassed as me, but with a distinct keeness showing through. It was all very uncomfortable as I tried to explain that, although she was of course lovely, I had a girlfriend whilst at the same time desperately looking to make a dignified escape. However, it is very difficult to do anything in a dignified manner when the sweet harmonies of Nick Carter are being distorted into a trancey groove in the background. Consequently, I was finally forced to physically duck out of the circle and make my escape to the exit and to freedom.
Fresh, cool air. And no Amazonians after me. But I was lost. Finally after an hours walking around (including a brief trip to McDonalds!) I was back in bed. In fact I was due up in about 5 hours to find a bus on to Dali. Still that is a story for my next post I think. Zai Jian all.
