the language barrier

I achieved a first last night which I thought would never happen. Not that I ever had intended it to happen, but it is something literally to write home about. My parents would be pleased.

I went out for a few drinks and a bite to eat with Rob last night. Rob was chomping at the bit to get some Chinese food in him, and I was happy to oblige. Wandering through Chinatown we were amazed that people would queue up to get into restaurants. I mean, it's Chinatown! There are so many eateries to choose from down that one strip - same same, but different. The one with the flashing neon pig outside it's window (now changed to a mouse) I do however, avoid.

Flicking through the menu I was a confident boy. I was going to order in Chinese to see if I could get away with doing an a la carte order - usually I cheat and order just for one, but doing a "normal" Chinese order is another thing altogether. I called over the waiter and proceeded to order in Cantonese. He looked at me in bewilderment. And then ran off.

I sat there, with my mouth opening and shutting like an ornamental carp. And then got rescued by another waitress who asked me sweetly in Chinese what I wanted to order.

The banana (white on the inside, yellow on the outside) had succeeded for the first time in his life, to actually necessitate a change in waiter so he could order in Chinese! By then I was feeling pretty smug, but then she threw in a curly one. The Sichuan beef I had ordered is a sweet spicy sauce - not the fiery one she thought I had wanted. I said in my best Cantonese "that's fine" and off we went. And rice for one? No, for two thank you.

Taffy scores!

Now that I've mastered the "noodles, roast duck, beef and rice" in Cantonese it's on to bigger challenges.

Let's see if those Mandarin lessons paid off after all Mum!