Kotora's adventures into academics and climbing the social and professional ladder
From the first moment I set foot in the capital of this glorious People's Republic, one thought dominated my mindscape: Beijing is a giant Chinese restaurant. The most prevailing smell after smelling exhaust fumes waste is most likely to be soy sauce. Three weeks in China now, I've been spending most of my time in a town a hundred kilometers further to the north. About 350,000 live here, which is about one residential block in BJ. ...
Seems like we all got carried away by cultural stereotypes. The little Chinese kitty was spotted alive and kicking in the Chinese restaurant I saw him getting carried into last week. They even have an older cat walking around the place, so I guess they don't eat cats there. At least for now.
There's nothing like a ride on a Chinese train. As soon as you enter the smell of hundreds of smoking, spitting and drinking Chinese people enters your nostrils and your first thought might be to just throw up. Though with the prospects of riding this smoking red dragon for two and a half hours (standing places too - the trains are filled to the brim with people), it's a good idea to start adapting to this place! And adapting is easy in China. I'm crossing traffic at random, spitting ...
What's it like to be a fattie who doesn't give a smurf and eats whatever he wants? I've had that thought running through my head for a while. Maybe because this whole country has a general atmosphere of nobody giving a smurf. A bag of red kaviar flavored chips. It's not nearly as good as it sounds. Two greasy kebabs, a double burger (a great $6 one, though), a troutload of snickers, chips, a bag of chocolate candies, beans, ...