The Return of Meggy
18 hours of flight, 4 airports, a bevy of "interesting" seatmates and one ocean later, I've made it. I was greeted at the airport by three grinning members of my host family holding a large hand-written sign reading "MEG!" What a welcome.
Now I sit in the Wang's house at mid-day. Forest and Jing (host-sisters) have left with Uncle Wang for the morning. Auntie Wang is humming a warbly chinese tune and preparing lunch in the kitchen (my best guess based on the past few meals would be: rice! green beans! hot pickled beans! chicken! bony, bony fish! seaweed soup!) If we are having leftovers as well, we may have some of a new addition I discovered at breakfast: red-bean filled 'cinnamon rolls.' A bit of a shock to occidental taste-buds, but tasty.
Two surprising features of note thusfar:
1. Apparently, my chopstick use is quite advanced. (Bravo Mum and Dad for forcing them on me at a young age via bolgolge and raw garlic.) Forest commented in a complaining fashion that I use chopsticks more properly than she does, and couldn't I cut it out while we're in front of her mom?
2. Despite 18 years of verbal protest on my part, I have apparently returned to the name "Meggy". Though I introduce myself as Yang Meiqi, (sort of like a backwards China-fied version of my name, pronounced: "Yah-ng May Chee"), my family continues to call "Meggy" to breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Yang Meiqi has yet to receive an invitation.
I nearly signed on for an impromptu adventure to Tibet with Forest and Uncle Wang yesterday, only to be stopped by pesky visa laws that require a week of processing time for foreign visas. In retrospect, I suppose it is wise to work off the inter-continental jet-lag before adding on extreme changes in altitude. Ah well, they planted a germinating idea in my brain and I have the feeling that before the year is through I will be writing about yak-butter and wind-beaten prayer flags.
In the meantime, my chinese work-book calls, as does Auntie Wang. "Meggy! Lunch!"
Now I sit in the Wang's house at mid-day. Forest and Jing (host-sisters) have left with Uncle Wang for the morning. Auntie Wang is humming a warbly chinese tune and preparing lunch in the kitchen (my best guess based on the past few meals would be: rice! green beans! hot pickled beans! chicken! bony, bony fish! seaweed soup!) If we are having leftovers as well, we may have some of a new addition I discovered at breakfast: red-bean filled 'cinnamon rolls.' A bit of a shock to occidental taste-buds, but tasty.
Two surprising features of note thusfar:
1. Apparently, my chopstick use is quite advanced. (Bravo Mum and Dad for forcing them on me at a young age via bolgolge and raw garlic.) Forest commented in a complaining fashion that I use chopsticks more properly than she does, and couldn't I cut it out while we're in front of her mom?
2. Despite 18 years of verbal protest on my part, I have apparently returned to the name "Meggy". Though I introduce myself as Yang Meiqi, (sort of like a backwards China-fied version of my name, pronounced: "Yah-ng May Chee"), my family continues to call "Meggy" to breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Yang Meiqi has yet to receive an invitation.
I nearly signed on for an impromptu adventure to Tibet with Forest and Uncle Wang yesterday, only to be stopped by pesky visa laws that require a week of processing time for foreign visas. In retrospect, I suppose it is wise to work off the inter-continental jet-lag before adding on extreme changes in altitude. Ah well, they planted a germinating idea in my brain and I have the feeling that before the year is through I will be writing about yak-butter and wind-beaten prayer flags.
In the meantime, my chinese work-book calls, as does Auntie Wang. "Meggy! Lunch!"
posted by Meg at 11:41 AM
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