Happy Beijing faces

“Do you want to get some authentic Beijing treats for lunch?”
“No thanks, I already ate.”
“What did you have?”
“Instant noodles.”
“What? You came to visit Beijing and you’re eating instant noodles?”
“This is my second bowl.”
“But…why?”
“I don’t know…but it’s pretty damn good.”

Three nights in Beijing, one of the biggest cities in the world, teeming with smells and tastes the combination of which can not be found anywhere else in the world. And for two days in a row, my breakfast and lunch consisted of a bowl of 3 RMB instant noodles. And I had no complaint whatsoever.

Such was life for me on my visit to Beijing. Dave had recently moved up there from Shanghai, and Wilkie was on an assignment there that was fast coming to an end, so I thought I’d drop by and have a taste for the kind of life they were living. Given that I went to work on Friday, bought fake Chairman Mao t-shirts, and then never saw daylight again as we bounced from a table at one club to a table at another club, I’d say the verdict is clear: Beijing is just like Shanghai.

The weather was hazy and humid, and as such my memory of my three days in the capital of China was similarly blurry. Amid the greyness were lucid memories of happiness, of course:

- Friday lunch with Shell as she just happened to be in town. “How about the dish of cold peanuts as a starter?” “Don’t worry Eric, I’m going to expense this all on the company.” “How about we start off with this crab stuffed with curry, then move on to the seafood salad and see where that takes us?” Thanks Shell. Morever, thanks Oracle Corp.

- Negotiating with the doe-eyed salesgirl at Xiu Shui Street, Beijing’s version of Xiang Yang Market. Wilkie thought he could get a t-shirt down to 10 RMB, but I was happy to score 25.25 RMB per shirt. Of course, i it took my razor sharp negotiating skills to wither her down.
Eric: “These four shirts for 50 RMB”
Girl: “No way. 110 RMB for four at most.”
Eric: “I won’t pay more than 50.”
Girl: “I guy as good looking as you shouldn’t have to worry about price.”
Eric: “Here’s 200 RMB. keep the change”

- Friday night ended with a drunken cab-ride back home to Dave’s, followed by a long, sexy talk about AMD’s cash balance and how it correlates to its stock price. Wood…oops, I meant, word.

- Saturday was all about getting to know the Intel ladies in Beijing, Clare and Karen. Practicing my Beijing accent was foremost on my mind, but that soon disappeared after I discovered Yan Jing beer, Beijing’s local specialty. Five bottles later, I could have sworn I was speaking Hindi, but it sure sounded good to me. We had dinner at a great restaurant in Hou Hai, which is this little lake surrounded by bars and restaurants. Normally it would have been only slightly romantic, but on the night I visited an unbelievable amount of electricity was in the air as Hou hai was besieged by a plague of old, fat Chinese men who felt compelled to lift up their shirts to reveal their hanging bellies. One guy even had the gumption to leave one of his tits exposed, perhaps just hinting at the untold treasures he had yet to show.


Beautiful scenery…trees, lake, and gut

- Later that night, at the Beijing Babyface, we reserved a huge table and proceeded to tear up the dance floor, ostensibly much to Clare and Karen’s delight. After a few drinks, they joined us, and as a group we were joined by Clare (II), Viva, Maple, and some random guys who drank our whiskey and danced with our women. I was too happy (and drunk) too care, however, and insisted that we go singing afterwards, even thought a thin film had begun to glaze over my eyes. Went to bed at 7:30 am this time, no talk of Intel…just boobs and such. Very academic.

- Sunday afternoon: best…instant noodles…ever.