Second to last installment of a series on my trip to Shenyang. You can also read Part One and Part Two in the series.

So a Canadian guy says to a Chinese girl: “Is your refrigerator running?”

The Chinese girl responds: “I don’t have a refrigerator.”

And thus begins a day Will and I spent trying to explain Western humor, pick up lines and an aversion to moon cakes to our friend Windy. We explained the double meaning of “running” in the old refrigerator prank call. Windy thought about it for a minute, decided it was indeed amusing, and gave a slight chuckle.

Admittedly, most of the jokes are the kind told in middle school, when bad words are hilarious and puns are simplistic. But we figured we should start with the basics and work our way toward multi-layered political and cultural satire and other comedic elements found in any episode of the Simpsons.

Here’s a sampling:

A man quit his job as a psychiatrist to spend his days cleaning septic tanks. When asked why, he said: “I was tired of dealing with people’s shit.” (Actually a true anecdote from the Discovery Channel show “Dirty Jobs.”)

If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.

You’re pants are like a mirror. I can see myself in them.

Fuck me if I’m wrong, but is your name Fred?

In some ways, it was a lot like telling dirty jokes in grade school, since Windy apparently has been pretty sheltered most of her life. I can’t fault her for it, since she’s working on a master’s degree as an interpreter, while I’m afloat in China trying to figure out my life. But at least I can derive entertainment from watching my friend giggle like an 11-year-old when someone says a swear word.

—

In the middle of all this, we stopped for hot pot. This was a local variant, not the usual spicy kind from Sichuan. We wanted fish, potatoes, carrots, mushrooms and tofu. The carrots were the problem.

I wouldn’t have thought of it, but I saw a neat slice of the orange veggie atop some greens on a shelf. It was staring me in the face, and since I was sort of trying to eat healthier today, I asked for carrots.

“They don’t have any,” Windy said, translating for us and the waitress. What about the one right there? I pointed it out.

That one, she said, is just a display “to make it look beautiful.”

I would have let it go there, but Will spotted a bowl of carrots two shelves down. A whole bowl, just waiting to be cooked in a boiling pot and eaten. He pointed them out to the waitress.

“Oh, those,” both she and Windy said. “Those are just to make the food colorful.”

Will and I looked at each other. “Can we make our food colorful?”

That did the trick. The carrots were delicious.
—

Who doesn’t like moon cakes?

I, for one, do not like moon cakes. Can’t stand them, actually. The ones I’ve had so far are dry, bitter, and filled with meat or dates or other things I wouldn’t dare put in a real dessert. Really, why does everyone here seem to love these things?

Moon cakes are an essential part of the mid-autumn festival, celebrating the full moon. (For a better explanation, check out Steve’s China Blog.) Everyone eats the little pastries and everyone stares at the moon. Personally, I’d be happy with some Oreos and a DVD.

So what did the college get me to celebrate National Day and the mid-autum festival? Moon cakes. Two boxes of them. So far, I haven’t been able to give them away. I have, however, though of other potential uses for moon cakes:

• If frozen, they’d be about the size of hockey pucks. People do skate here…

• Something to reward my students when they win the little games we play in class, or

• Something to hurl at them when they respond “Yes” to “How was your vacation?”

This is probably my last Shenyang post. Tomorrow I’ll post a bunch of photos, including a few without people in them!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 10th, 2006 at 11:21 pm and is filed under roadside blogging. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.