What to write? What to write?

When I was thinking about what to write in my next post I went through some of the most striking experiences of my first week in Chongqing: the unfamiliar feeling of being the only person of one's race in a sea of what is otherwise homogeneity, the oppressive heat combined with the asphyxiating air pollution, the gambling-with-one's-life game of crossing, or even getting too near, the road and its heedless travelers, but then I thought that any of these experiences (which are still valid and will be individually addressed in future posts) would belie the fact that I am truly enjoying myself. So instead I decided to share my interactions with my local street food vendors and what I think will be a fascinating and mutually beneficial friendship.

Though I have yet to learn the names of the woman and her husband who have a table in a small street food area right across the street from the entrance to my university (solely due to my reluctance to use more of my rudimentary Chinese than needed to get dinner), I feel the seeds of a relationship separate from the university and my work are being sown; something that pleases me greatly. 

Now each time I walk up to the table where they have their food laid out next to the propane cooker and wok the husband cooks the food in, I am greeted with smiles and what I hope and believe to be warm salutations. Soon I will get over the fear of inevitable embarrassment and mistakes and practice a bit more of my Chinese with them to get to know them better, but for now I am content with our limited but seemingly genuine pleasantries. Oh, and also the fucking delicious food. For less than a dollar (5 yuan for those keeping score at home) I either get a big dish of fried rice or fried noodles. In this dish he cooks up and egg, cabbage, onions, chilies, and assorted and delectable spices that are just fantastic. For my 5 yuan I get a dish that fills me up, and always leaves a bit of a snack for the following afternoon.

It seems as though I have made myself hungry with this post, so I will leave off there. I’m going to another nearby food seller that has these steamed buns stuffed with pork, onion, and ginger for 1 yuan a piece; get outta here. I will keep you all posted about my burgeoning relationship with those keep me fed, and also the other delicious foods I have here. And at some point I’ll get back to the pollution, crowds, grime and all the other challenges that I will face here, but I’ll save that for a darker day; today is not that day.