Ways in which Randy is trying to convince me to move here
"Henry Miller would be here, you know."
Randy is trying to romanticize the idea of all of us living here. He is working all kinds of angles, and has been since right before he was made permanent here in Shekou. He thinks he has found a particular soft spot, a vulnerability. Men always think they know these.
He had planted this thought in my head early in the week, and it comes back to me as I sit on the porch at "Mary's Bar." Looking out at the street through the palm branches, I hear the raucous laughter of the not-yet-drunk party-goers inside. The English I hear spoken more than Chinese here comes in a variety of flavors. Pakistani Mike (that's what they call him) has such a thick Irish-sounding accent that I am surprised to hear that he really is Pakistani. Chicago accents, like those out of a Saturday Night Live sketch, except these are real and not affected. One that sounds like home to me, one from Danville, Kentucky! (or should I say, rubberbootsgirl, Danvuhl Kintu-ky---and yes, I know I am from Pittsburgh but my friends and regular readers know of my great affection and longing for central Kentucky).
With my second or third cider of the night in my hand, and all this going on around me, I keep thinking about whether this is true. I tell Randy at that moment that I agree with him; Henry Miller would definitely be here, I said.
But would he?
While I have already met some definite "expat" characters here (and so many more to come), I haven't met any of the Henry Miller sort of expat. There is certainly a lot of the drinking and talking and smoking (and other things) one would find in Miller's world. But everyone that isn't from here that is here, whether they be from Australia or the US or other parts of China or Mongolia, they are all here simply because there is money to be made. The rest to them is icing. (But I wonder if they would still be here if the women were ugly, the beer were water, and the climate were truly unbearable)
Not nearly Tropic of Cancer is it?
Randy has already read the above and disagrees with my assertion that it is all about the money. He says people come here for that sort of opportunity initially, but people stay for the way of live. That includes the women, the beer, climate and, he adds further, the company.
Randy is trying to romanticize the idea of all of us living here. He is working all kinds of angles, and has been since right before he was made permanent here in Shekou. He thinks he has found a particular soft spot, a vulnerability. Men always think they know these.
He had planted this thought in my head early in the week, and it comes back to me as I sit on the porch at "Mary's Bar." Looking out at the street through the palm branches, I hear the raucous laughter of the not-yet-drunk party-goers inside. The English I hear spoken more than Chinese here comes in a variety of flavors. Pakistani Mike (that's what they call him) has such a thick Irish-sounding accent that I am surprised to hear that he really is Pakistani. Chicago accents, like those out of a Saturday Night Live sketch, except these are real and not affected. One that sounds like home to me, one from Danville, Kentucky! (or should I say, rubberbootsgirl, Danvuhl Kintu-ky---and yes, I know I am from Pittsburgh but my friends and regular readers know of my great affection and longing for central Kentucky).
With my second or third cider of the night in my hand, and all this going on around me, I keep thinking about whether this is true. I tell Randy at that moment that I agree with him; Henry Miller would definitely be here, I said.
But would he?
While I have already met some definite "expat" characters here (and so many more to come), I haven't met any of the Henry Miller sort of expat. There is certainly a lot of the drinking and talking and smoking (and other things) one would find in Miller's world. But everyone that isn't from here that is here, whether they be from Australia or the US or other parts of China or Mongolia, they are all here simply because there is money to be made. The rest to them is icing. (But I wonder if they would still be here if the women were ugly, the beer were water, and the climate were truly unbearable)
Not nearly Tropic of Cancer is it?
Randy has already read the above and disagrees with my assertion that it is all about the money. He says people come here for that sort of opportunity initially, but people stay for the way of live. That includes the women, the beer, climate and, he adds further, the company.
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