The special menu

Hot pots; definitely one of my favourite ways to dine with friends in China. It adds something to the meal – instead of gassing about bullshit for hours on end, there’s something to do. I quite enjoy stirring the pot, mulling over the meat, adding ingredients and ensuring it’s cooked thoroughly; I guess you could say I’m a control freak. My last night in Guilin before flying to Malaysia’s capital and the five of us are sharing food to die for; the hot pot contains spices, herbs and oils that generate salivation whilst we all wait patiently in anticipation for the King Prawns, Squid, Mussels and fish to simmer. It’s a little like stoking the fire, or becoming fixated on the telly – us three men sat staring as the steam cancels the nearby air-conditioning whilst it boils away.

Fear not fellow chopstick despisers, for spoons are provided – even a ladle for stirring and extracting tasty morsels. And after a brief while, it’s ready for devouring. At 65 Yuan, it’s pretty good value and enough to feed our party of five, especially with the included rice to soak up the soup remaining in your bowl. I’m happiest when well rested, having run and well fed; so today is a great day on all three counts, sadly spoiled by the last 15 minutes in the restaurant.

Two Western faces enter and are promptly directed to a table and given a blue menu. I’m confused; ours was red and had no English on it – perhaps they simply ran out of red paper. I think I’ll offer some help; I have a fluent English speaker sat next to me after all. The couple are surrounded by three waitresses, all struggling to help them decide what to order, but looking down at their blue paper the dishes are completely different from our choices of earlier. More confusion befits me; we ask the waitress why they have a different menu and are greeted by a rapidly approaching woman of managerial appearance. “We will only serve them that food, not anything from the other menu”, she says disdainfully; “What? But they’re our friends – “, we lie attempting to help “– why can’t they have what we had?”, we retort. As it happens, the one dish that is available is a single hot pot; though it’s strangely inflated by 50% on the special menu. Growing more angry at this disgraceful attitude towards non-Chinese, we query further ; but it’s futile. Disgusted, the couple leaves. And exiting I notice five Westerners eyeing the restaurant up outside – it’s only fair I give them a heads-up to the practices within. That’s seven customers lost; hardly good business practice and yet utterly typical in China. My advice if you want to see the country: Befriend a local, it truly is the only way.

My last few weeks in China spent hanging around with friends in Guilin and Yangshuo, renting bikes, running, eating (a considerable amount), and I feel truly on holiday. It’s a nice bit of RnR before being exposed to extreme heat and humidity once more in Malaysia and Singapore. My friends throughout China have all been so gracious, generous and warm; the tide of younger generations is certainly causing a turn here, albeit at a snail’s pace. Though as I peer from the window at the two waving runway attendants wishing us safe journey, I’m left feeling somewhat depressed. It’s been a two month battle of attrition with China resulting in no clear winner. What remains, however, is the friendships and memories of overcoming all the obstructions, rip-offs, scams, lack of hygiene and queues; something that will probably stay with me forever: Good times.