Beer, Barbecue and Brotherhood

I took my textbook down to the little barbecue shop underneath my flat for a quick bite to eat and some quiet study. At a neighbouring table sat a Chain-Smoking Beer-Swilling Local. As I waited for my order to arrive, he started reading from my book.

I looked up and smiled. CSBSL stuttered before asking

"Where are you from?" in the curiously over-pronounced, but inaccurate way that Chinese students of English often speak.

"England" I replied in Chinese. This got him very excited, and I explained once again the distinction between overseas-born Chinese, Caucasian English, and Chinese migrants.

I invited him to sit at my table and asked if he's a student.

"Yes" he replied.

"Which University? Heilongjiang? HIT?"

"No, no, no, I'm a middle-school student. Senior Three." He replied. My eyes widened as I looked at him, his dirty paper packet of cigarettes, and the beer he'd just downed.

"Do many high-school students drink?" I asked.

"Northeasterner". He replied, as if that explained everything. He didn't seem like a nutter, so I called the waitress over and ordered two beers. CSBSL insisted on paying.

"Oh no, no. You can't do that. You're still a student". I extended a ten towards the waitress.

"No, no, no!" CSBSL shouted. He wrestled me away from the waitress, with alarming strength, and stuffed his own ten into the waitress's hands.

"I should have paid". I insisted.

"No. Because you are from England. I'm very happy to talk to you." CSBSL shot back in his stilted English.

We got to talking and CSBSL grinned inanely the whole time, apparently enormously satisfied at meeting a foreigner. Despite being a high-schooler, he was already nineteen - only four years my junior but still with another five years until he would graduate.

I asked him why he felt so privileged to meet me, and why foreigners were always so well-received here.

"In England, foreigners aren't treated as special. Quite the opposite in fact." I told him. He struggled to think of a reason, but quickly gave up and resorted to his fixed inane grin.

He asked for my number, which I gave him, glad for the Mandarin practice, and in turn he told me his name was Yu Yang. Conversation turned to his future study plans which included getting away from parental influence in Harbin and studying Economics, and I ordered another pair of beers.

Halfway through telling him Economics was a good choice, Yu Yang flipped back to English to say

"You are very lovely".

I wiped the beer dripping from my nose and told him that while it might be perfectly acceptable to say that in Chinese to another guy, this would get him punched out if he ever tried it in England. Especially on a first date.

He looked crestfallen so I hurriedly tried to explain how friends expressed affection back home.

"Chinese friends don't express themselves very physically when they meet each other, right? But at home, we'll normally shake hands, maybe a quick bit of back-slapping, even if we've seen each other recently".

At this, Yu Yang grabbed my hand tight and wouldn't let go. His rigor mortis smile started to alarm me.

"My friends wirr be happy to meet chu, because you are very lahverrly".

"Uh huh, that's good". I started to look around for the exit.

Yu Yang ordered more food and two more beers. I didn't really know how to turn him down so poured the beer and refused the food.

"No! Eat!" Yu Yang implored me and looked like he was about to cry. He grabbed a chicken wing and thrust it repeatedly in front of my nose.

"I'm really full". I noticed he'd knocked his cup in the excitement and a bit had slopped over the edge.

"Where I'm from, if you waste alcohol, you get fined".

"A cup or a bottle?"

"What?"

"Do you want me to drink a cup or a bottle?"

"Umm, a cup will do just fine".

Sure enough he downed his cup, spilling a good third of the beer down his chin and onto his jumper in the process.

"You spilt it again. Another fine". I poured him another cup, eager to get through the remaining beer and get out of there.

Yu Yang was in the middle of explaining how much he could drink (one crate in a single sitting apparently) when he once again blurted in English.

"I lahk you very maaatch".

I tried to explain different social norms in English usage, but he looked at me blearily and slurred.

"My friends. They will lahk you very maaatch or-so".

I cursed my terrible judgement of character and told him that I had to leave as I had class tomorrow. Come to think of it, didn't he too? He replied in the affirmative but said that meeting me was a very special occasion for him, and his mother would understand why he was late.

Yu Yang followed me out and repeated his hand-grabbing trick, beaming at me and pumping my hand vigorously.

"I must take you home. You are a guest here".

"Oh, it's no bother". I didn't really want him to know where I lived.

"No! I must!" He really wouldn't let go of my hand and his pudgy grip was alarmingly firm.

"Seriously. Go home now. It's getting late". He finally let go of my hand but stood on the snice waiting expectantly.

"I live right here! Now go home!" I shouted at him and pointed at the door no more than ten metres away.

A pause.

"Niiice to meet chu?"

"Yup, you too". I ran for it, fully expecting him to follow me, fumbled with my keys and slammed the door shut. As I leaned against the door and breathed a sigh of relief, I resolved never to talk to strangers again.

Then my phone went off. It was Yu Yang.

"My friends will lahk you very maaatch. I will core you."

I hung up.