French Bordeaux and America’s Constitution

Since there have not been any recent posts, you may be wondering what we have been doing. We have been drinking and we have been reading.

Sometimes, I do read things other than The Economist. We are daily subscribers to the Chicago Tribune. We get the Sunday New York Times delivered to our door. I read Playboy for the articles, jokes, and – let’s be honest – the lovely pictures. Until recently, I had not been traveling as much as usual. Airplane time is generally personal time for me, so the more I travel the more time I have to read.

constitutionWhen is the last time you read the Constitution of the United States? While it only takes about 25 minutes to read the Constitution, it took me quite a bit longer to complete Akhil Reed Amar’s America’s Constitution: A Biography. The 477 page biography PLUS 150 pages of notes proved a bit more challenging than expected, but the first few chapters aside, this was an enjoyable book. There was interesting and thoughtful analysis of the impact slavery had on the development of our country. It is equally remarkable how little the document has changed over more than 200 years. Recommended. I have always enjoyed history, and completed an excellent biography of John Adams in 2005. I feel more knowledgeable having read America’s Constitution.

Reading a 600 page biography of the US constitution, however, is not something you do over a beer. It requires more sophisticated refreshments. My bourbon addiction is well chronicled and was well matched to the book, though unfortunately sourced from a former slave state – I’ve never seen a Land of Lincoln bourbon. A less obvious match is French Bordeaux. Remember that is was the French who both sponsored the Revolution and sold us large chunks of land as we expanded westward.

Bordeaux Primer

Time has expanded my knowledge of wine, though French wine has proven a challenge over the years. The real reason for the recent Bordeaux binge is that 2005 had great weather in many of France’s wine growing regions – cool and wet at the beginning so the grapes grow fat, hot and dry at the end so the grapes shrivel up and concentrate the fruit. In anticipation of this great vintage, I resumed effort on deciphering French wine. Purists will not be impressed with my analysis. To educate myself, I buy a lot of wine and use The Oxford Companion to Wine as a reference.

Common to pretty much all wine is the vintner (who makes the wine) and the vintage (the year the grapes were harvested). Technically, vintner means wine merchant – who sells the wine – which isn’t necessarily the same as who makes the wine. Just like a single factory can make a VCR sold by both Sony and Toshiba, a single wine producer can sell their wine via different brands. We will ignore this – it is the same VCR regardless of the label. Vintage is important because the weather plays a large role in the quality of the wine – this is no surprise if you think about it – wine is basically an agriculture product. Some years are better than other years, as any farmer will tell you.

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In many areas of the world, including the United States, wine is often named by the primary grape – Merlot, Cabernet, and Shiraz are all types of grapes frequently used to make wine. Just like at the supermarket, some grapes are red and some grapes are white. The type of grape reveals a lot about the wine. Drink enough wine made from different types of grapes, and you can develop an understanding of what types of wine you enjoy based on the grape. A common question at a wine store is ‘What type of wine are you looking for – Merlot, Cabernet, Chardonnay?’

Drink even more wine and you develop an appreciation not only for what types of grapes you like, but where your favorite type of grape is grown. Syrah grapes are grown all over the world (called Shiraz in Australia) – drink enough Syrah / Shiraz and you can taste the common differences. Just like at the supermarket, you can get a Florida red grapefruit or one of those wonderful Ruby Red grapefruit from Texas – both red grapefruit but I know which one I buy. Geographic information is almost always found on the wine’s label.

As an example, last night we had a bottle of 2003 (Vintage) L’Ecole No. 41 (Vintner) Cabernet Savignon (type of grape) from the Walla Walla Valley (where the grapes were grown). The Walla Walla Valley is a popular wine growing region in Washington State.

The basic challenge with French wine is that the type of grape is generally not provided explicitly on the label. The reason is that in France, where the wine is from almost always communicates the type of grape as well. An elaborate history of Government-controlled categorization supports this classification system. Champagne, for example, is actually a region in France that produces a lot of – surprise – champagne. Other regions that may sound familiar are Bordeaux, Languedoc, Beaujolais, and Cotes du Rhone. Because I haven’t memorized the types of grapes grown in each of France’s wine growing regions, I carry a cheat-sheet.

Bordeaux is one, important wine growing region and home to approximately 13,000 vintners across 247,000 acres (about 400 square miles). The region is further subdivided into appellations. Most Bordeaux wines are blends of Cabernet and Merlot grapes, with a few additional varieties of various types. Bordeaux is basically separated by the Gironde River. Knowing if one of the 37 appellations is on the ‘left bank’ or the ‘right bank’ of the river is suggestive of the predominate grape. Appellations Saint Emilion and Pomerol generally produce predominately Merlot-based wines, while Appellations Margaux and Pauillac generally produce Cabernet-based wines. Just like knowing I live in Chicago is useful information, knowing I live in Chicago’s Gold Coast neighborhood is even more useful.

As an example, I am planning to drink a 2003 Chateau Vray Croix de Gay Pomerol Bordeaux. Chateau Vray Croix de Gay made the wine from predominantly Merlot grapes grown in 2003 in the Pomerol area of the Bordeaux region. Piece of cake once you have a cheat sheet.

China

bonesAs this post suggests, I’ve probably been doing more wine drinking than book reading, though I did finish another excellent book, Oracle Bones by Peter Hessler. This is more of a beer book – ‘wo yao yi bing ping Tsing Tao pi jio’ (I want 1 cold bottle Tsing Tao beer). Prior to moving to China, I read several books on Chinese business etiquette and what I could expect living in China. None of these books prepared me in any way for living and working in China. I like to think that had Oracle Bones been published in 2004, this would have been a superior read in preparation for an assignment in China. Certainly after the fact, the book is full of ‘yes, that is exactly what it is like’ moments that only an American in China would fully appreciate, but that even a novice should be able to comprehend. If you’ve been to China or are planning a trip to China, read this book.

Our Newest Appliance

I have already written about my coffee maker, so, surprisingly, this will be my second appliance post.

Prior to college graduation, I do not recall having many conversations about appliances. The college dorm room had one of those small refrigerators and I eventually moved up to a microwave and a coffee maker.

Upon graduation, my first job required virtually 100% travel and when in Chicago I lived in a shared facility that provided appliances. It is about this time, however, that I recall my first appliance conversation. We were in a bar in St. Louis. Sitting with a large group of college friends immediately before or after the wedding of another friend. I cannot recall the details of the wedding – such as who was getting married – but I remember Jim and Joe and their respective spouses. There must have been others because I remember a larger group sitting around the table. More than 5 and fewer than 10 people. It was a sunny afternoon and we were seated inside.

How the conversation meandered to washers and dryers I do not recall. There were several areas of consensus. It was nice not to have to put quarters in the machine. It was nice to have your own, personal washer and dryer, avoiding the hassle of waiting in line or having to remove some mysterious, absent person’s clothes from one of the machines in order to keep the assembly line moving. All the women and men agreed that washers and dryers represent yet another instance where bigger is indeed better.

There was minor disagreement – best described as difference of opinion – on the relative benefits and weaknesses of front-loaders (water efficiency) versus top-loaders (physical convenience), and gas versus electric.

The extended discussion was a sure sign that we were growing up. While thoughts, opinions and examples were shared with passion and detail, it did not have the same twists and turns as a discussion about who you kissed at last night’s party.

This particular component helps the blood flow properly to the penis of the man in order to be place for the dose as that is prescribed by doctors for men who are diagnosed with low testosterone level or conditions caused pdxcommercial.com online viagra store by low testosterone – such as one out of every 10 men have some degree of ED, three out of 10 users find this treatment best for. All work in the same matter and contain most of the cialis online prescription same active ingredients and are very much safe. Did you know that numerous studies suggest that men who have made lifestyle improvements experience increased rates of miscarriage. purchasing that viagra samples It also boosts up metabolism, holds back appetite and burns fat in place of storing fat in the stomach and chest area, poor concentration and memory, and an overall decrease in your sense of line viagra well being. The Toaster

Since we can all accurately guess who I kissed last night, I would like to introduce you to our new toaster. Before we moved to China, we had a standard, white toaster. Linda had mentioned on numerous occasions that she did not like the toaster because it lacked elegance. She could have used the word ugly – I don’t recall the specific words. When we returned from China, unpacked our boxes from storage, and I discovered we no longer had a toaster, the true depth of Linda’s displeasure was apparent to me. Apparently I listened but I did not understand. We have been living without a toaster since December.

toasterLast Friday, however, a new toaster arrived at our home, a gift from my mother. Ironically, it was my mother who had purchased the original, now missing, toaster. This had been a pre-Linda gift so mom is not held personally responsible. The new toaster, with its vintage curves and charcoal sheen, is attractive, though, as expected, it doesn’t really match the coffee maker, which is white. We will experiment with placement but the new appliance quickly passed the Linda test.

As the user reviews on Amazon suggested, our experience with the Delonghi 800 watt 2-slice toaster (Made in China, of course) confirms it is easy to use, easy to clean, and pops out a nice piece of toast. Linda carefully coordinated gifts and this morning we shared a pair of nicely toasted English Muffins – one Smoked Onion and Garlic, the second your basic, ‘Original’ muffin. This past Christmas I was introduced to Wolferman’s English Muffins – ‘A Tradition of Fine Food Since 1888’. They make an excellent English Muffin, delivered not so discretely to your door in one of the finest cardboard shipping boxes I can recall.

I see poached eggs on toast on this weekend’s menu.

Thanks, Mom.

Chicken, Where Are You?

And The Winner Is

Brynmar Bland accurately identified the location of our first Chicken pic:

The chicken is somewhere in Cambodia, outside of some sort of tomb or tribute to some goddesses of that area. I’m not even close, am I?

04132006

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Beautiful and striking even after hundreds of years. Rub their breasts for good luck.

The Next Chic Pic

OK, the next pic is a bit of a trick. Click here to see the next chicken picture and follow the Chronicles of the Chicken.

Chicken Timer

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Click here for the latest photo.

My First Grill

Hello. My name is Dean and I own a grill. I am 36 years old and this is my first grill.

In Shanghai we had a balcony and enjoyed weekend mornings and general evenings sitting outside with a cup of coffee or glass of beer or wine. Having a balcony was high on Linda’s list of features for a new apartment in Chicago. When we returned to Chicago this year, Linda was in charge of finding us a place to live. Unsurprisingly, she found a lovely, expensive apartment with a balcony and a pool. Admittedly, I provided certain parameters that limited the breadth of our search. From our floor plan, you can see the balcony off of the ‘Great Room’ in the bottom left. Until now, I did not realize we had a Great Room and I am certain I don’t know what that means.

View From a Grill
grill_view

Our new balcony presented my first opportunity to own a grill. Technically, I could have owned a grill sooner, but there would have been no place to put it. I am a novice but recognized you can’t really use a grill in the living room. We considered a grill in Shanghai, but the reality was that a practical grill was not only hard (or impossible) to find, but also beyond our linguistic abilities at that early stage in our adventure – we could generally get food but not specify even remotely how it should be cooked. Certainly we could not communicate concepts such as outdoor grill, barbecue, charcoal, gas, or fire – given China’s history of wooden buildings, fire in the home is generally considered a bad thing.

Gas or Charcoal

Charcoal. I believe food cooked on a charcoal grill tastes better so I purchased your basic, all-purpose kettle grill. There is more of a mess but I think the tradeoff is worth it. We will revisit this point again next year once the novelty has worn off.

grillI shopped around and decided on an 18 1/2 inch Webber One-Touch Kettle Grill in Black. Amazon offered both user reviews and free shipping. Surprisingly, the grill arrived overnight.

Selecting this grill required making a couple of additional decisions beyond gas versus charcoal. The first decision was size – the basic kettle comes in 18 1/2″ and 22 1/2″ configurations. Since the majority of my grilling would be for 1-2 people, the Chicago grilling season is relatively short, and the grill would be situated on a balcony, I elected to purchase the smaller of the two options. This is my only regret – I should have known better. As I have previously opined, size does matter. The cooking surface is adequate on the 18 1/2″ model, but as my grilling interests quickly become more complex, a larger grill provides more flexibility when using an indirect grilling technique.
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Courtesy of Barbecue University:

Direct grilling is a hight heat method used to cook relatively small or thin pieces of meat and is what most of the world means when it talks of grilling: the food is placed and cooked directly over the fire. Typical foods that are direct grilled include steaks, chops, chicken breasts, fish fillets, vegetables, and bread.

Indirect grilling is designed to cook larger or tougher foods that would burn if direct grilled. As the name suggests, the food is placed next to, not directly over the fire. Indirect grilling is used to cook large pieces of meat, like pork shoulders and whole chickens. It’s also used to cook tough cuts of meat, like brisket and ribs, that require long, slow cooking at a low or moderate heat.

Following additional experimentation with indirect grilling, I will report back.

The second decision point was whether to buy the standard model or the ‘Gold’ model. The one-touch system is designed to make the grill easier to clean, essentially by putting large holes in the bottom of the grill so you can push charcoal ash out the bottom. In the standard model, the ash falls onto a large aluminum plate. In the Gold model, the ash falls into a ‘high capacity ash catcher’ – basically an aluminum can that you can remove to dump out the ash. Fifty-dollars seemed a bit steep for an aluminum can. In retrospect, I am indifferent between the two. The Gold model would be a bit faster and cleaner. I did not consider the wind on our 18th floor Chicago balcony – ash tends to blow off of the aluminum plate. This is probably less of a problem if you have a backyard.

I paid $65 for my 18 1/2″ standard kettle grill. The 22 1/2″ Gold model is about $140.

Accessories

I also believe that lighter fluid degrades the taste of meat cooked on a charcoal grill. The Weber owner’s manual suggests using either newspaper or a chimney fire starter to ignite your charcoal. My first attempt applied Weber’s directions to start the fire by adding newspaper under the charcoal and then lighting the newspaper. This approach successfully started the charcoal. However, the burning shards of newspaper bellowing out of the grill, off of the balcony, aimlessly but dangerously drifting in the wind towards Holy Name Cathedral 18 stories below was, for four minutes, quite terrifying. I was unable to speak, but Linda succinctly noted ‘I don’t think that is safe’ as she watched the fiasco from inside, safe from the flying embers. Fortunately, nothing obvious caught flame other than the charcoal, thank the Catholic God.

chimneyThe grill remained closed until the arrival of my Chimney Starter. One piece of newspaper. One match. Thirty to fifty briquets. First time every time. Fifteen minutes from match to meat. Limited risk of burning down the city. Little is more manly satisfying that watching the building glow of the rapidly igniting charcoal in the chimney, and marveling at the massive amount of heat it creates. Hands down, this is one of the most useful accessories that I own.

Having trouble finding a gift for a man? Two words: Chimney Starter.

No real grill master is without wood – either chips or chunks. Mine arrived from Minnesota courtesy of Northwoods Smoke – chips of Hickory, Cherry, White Oak, and Maple. After I light the chimney, I come inside, select a flavor of wood chips, and put two large handfuls in a bowl of water. I empty the charcoal onto the grill and pile the drained wood chips on top of the burning briquets prior to putting on the cooking grate. The chips will burn for 20 to 30 minutes, infusing your meat with real grill flavors.

The Chicken Chronicles

A Historical Perspective

We have a rubber Chicken. The details of how the original Chicken came into our possession are sketchy, but it started several years ago and originated with Linda’s co-workers in Evanston, IL USA. The real story must go back farther than that, since the Chicken’s soft rubber belly notes China as the place of origin. I believe all this began in the late 1990s.

chicken_tape

I also do not clearly recall how the craziness started. At some point, the Chicken began joining us on our trips and vacations, and a photo collection began to emerge documenting the Chicken’s travels and adventures. It is all rather stupid when you think about it and write it down.

chicken_vietcongHowever, everyone loves the Chicken. On countless occasions, we have been photographed in the process of photographing our Chicken. People want to touch the Chicken. To hold the Chicken. To caress the Chicken in hopes of figuring out what in the world is inside the Chicken that makes it feel so weird. People want to understand why two Americans are taking a picture of a rubber Chicken.

Certainly the main reason this adolescent behavior continues is that the pictures are funny.

Seriously, when is the last time you saw a Communist Viet Cong soldier getting his picture taken with a rubber Chicken?

When we say everyone loves the Chicken, we mean everyone.

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To be completely honest, we actually have two rubber Chickens. In 2004, Linda felt that the original Chicken was ‘getting too dirty’ and acquired a second Chicken. Though also Made in China at presumably the same time we were living there, Chicken #2 was ironically purchased in the United States . I prefer the admittedly nappy but svelte Original Chicken, while Linda prefers Extra Crispy.

chickens

The Chicken Photo Contest

slide_pool
www.deanandlinda.com is introducing a new, regular feature to our blog. Chicken, Where are You? On a regular basis, we will post a photo of the Chicken. You should guess where the photo was taken (try to be precise). We will provide the location and circumstances surrounding the photograph prior to posting a new picture. Please play along.

Click here to play Chicken, Where are You?

Women de Pengyou Hui Qu Zhong Guo

Our friends Jeff and Becca spent the last two weeks back in China. I wish we had been there to help translate – we know There are almost seven different fake mouthsofthesouth.com cialis on line variants available in the market for oil and fuel filter. Because of its aphrodisiac properties it is grouped under vrishyadi varga. viagra store These experts also tried to find out exactly what benefits come from the use of the drug in this disease helps every mouthsofthesouth.com online cialis prescriptions time. Besides the above mentioned healthy nutrients, this fruits also contains http://mouthsofthesouth.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/MOTS-11.04.17-Byrd.pdf generic levitra online calcium, Sulphur and oil, all of which hold extraordinary importance for growth; daily routine activities. the feeling and frustration. But it is funnier when it is someone else!

You can read about their global adventure and see the latest pictures here.

What We Are Drinking

margaux One joy of living in Chicago again is having access to excellent wine. Certainly we have access to poor wine as well, but the quality and variety of wine available in the USA exceeds that available in China by such a wide margin that the two are incomparable. We did not drink much wine in China since the selection was so disappointing in relation to the price. Also, beer is 50 cents a quart.

Linda and I visited the wine cellar over the weekend, rearranged the contents, added some new bottles, and brought some old bottles home. New to our stash is the 2002 Chateau Lascombes Margaux, a very good wine from what I understand was a difficult grape growing season in France. Good with cheese and red meat – we have tested it with both filet mignon and hamburger and quite enjoyed both combinations.
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Cheers.

Chinese Art

In addition to Linda’s list, I would add art as one item to bring home with you. That is the one thing I wish I had acquired and brought home with me.

lao_dao

I suggest the Mentaigne Art Gallery on Anfu Lu (corner of Wulumuqi) in Shanghai, or Wan Fung Art Gallery in Beijing (near the Forbidden City on Nanchizi Street). Mentaigne is a single artist gallery, so if you don’t like the big heads, move on. At Wan Fung, make sure you visit the oil painting section, which is across the courtyard and during our visit was locked until we were escourted by a staff member.
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I was too worried I would pay too much, but I can assure you it is cheaper to get while you are there than to go back and get it later. If you like it, negotiate, come back later and negotiate some more and then just buy it.

yang_gao

Hello

Since my last post in January, I moved back home to Chicago from Beijing, my grandfather died, my uncle died, I traveled to Australia for the first time, our bank went out of business, I started training (again) for the Chicago Marathon, and my beautiful wife and I went to the beach in Mexico.

So let’s start at the beginning.

Peking International Airport

At the moment, Beijing International Airport has two terminals (a massive new terminal is under construction in preparation for the Olympics). Terminal 2 is the international terminal and also serves Air China and China Eastern – two of the largest airlines in China. Ironically, when arriving at the airport via taxi, you arrive at Terminal 2 first. Very China. When leaving Terminal 2, the cab line is generally quite organized in maze-like Disney-fashion and staffed by about 15 Chinese guys directing traffic (vehicles and people). A few cheaters aside, the taxi line at Terminal 2 loosely approximates what you would expect in Chicago or New York, although both Linda and I have had to block out someone more than once.

western_line

Terminal 1 predominately serves China Southern Airlines, the other large local airline. There is a far lower concentration of foreigners in Terminal 1 and, as a consequence, the rules are a bit different. The cab line in Terminal 1 is poorly marked – if you don’t know where it is, it would not surprise me if you have a hard time finding it. Capacity is about 15 people and I’ve rarely seen fewer than 25 people jockeying for position to get a cab.

Previous posts have alluded to the Chinese propensity to ignore international etiquette when faced with the prospect of standing in line with strangers. Our tutors explain that everyone knows that you are supposed to stand in line, but the system breaks down quickly as people attempt to get to the front, casually ignoring those of us attempting to queue up politely. The primary problem at Terminal 1(other than flouting international convention) is that the forced cab line area (the maze) is only about 15 feet long. This often results in a mass of people politely pushing and shoving at the entrance to the line. Roughly, the cab line at Terminal 1 usually looks like this:

china_line

Zhe Ge Shi Pai Dui

Upon returning home to Beijing on January 20, 2006 at approximately 7:30 PM local time, a Russian woman and I took control of the cab line at Beijing International Airport’s Terminal 1. Many of you will not understand our sense of accomplishment and feelings of tremendous satisfaction. Others will score one for the wai guo ren (foreigners). Damn straight.

That week, I flew China Southern Airlines so I arrived at the taxi stand for Terminal 1 to find a group of about 30 people that were roughly standing in line. The line extended beyond the entrance of the formal cab line by about 15 people, all of whom were politely but anxiously standing in queue. On this particular night, there were very few cabs at Terminal 1. Since Terminal 1 is actually the second of the two terminals, it always has fewer cabs than Terminal 2 – I don’t understand why this needs to be the case but I resigned myself to this reality shortly after moving to Beijing.

On this Friday evening, slowly, one at a time, cabs would arrive and cart off a passenger. In masse, we would all anxiously move forward two steps, stop, and look anxiously for the next cab to come around the corner. Cabs were arriving approximately 1 every 45 to 60 seconds.

The cab line began to grow quickly as flights arrived faster than taxi cabs. A Western woman and her son had taken position two people behind me. At this point, I was about 10 people short of the safety provided by the metal bars clearly marking the cab line. From experience, I recognized this to be about the worst possible position in which to find myself. I was too far away to utilize my size advantage when things began to break down but, equally, could not with clear conscience contribute to the anarchy by pushing aside those I had patiently been standing behind.

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‘Dui bu chi’ (Excuse me), I say. ‘Zhe ge shi pai dui’ (This is a line / stand in line).

This approach has almost always worked for me, I think because of the sheer terror created by the fact a big white guy can say something in Chinese about a line. This woman, however, was not startled and explained that she was actually standing in the second of two cab lines (or some other bullshit that involved the number 2).

‘Yi ge chu zu chi pai dui’ (One cab line). ‘Wo de yi si, nimen de er si’ (I am first, you are second).

That had the desired effect and they sheepishly took position behind me, or, possibly, they had no idea what I was saying and were just afraid.

The real assault for the front of the line began on the left, however. My right was protected by the street – to pass you were exposed to oncoming traffic. Chinese understand and respect that this is bad. Two to three people had moved to the front of the line unassaulted by my fellow travelers, and the perpetrators were too far away for me to challenge effectively.

Another man began walking nonchalantly toward the front from the left. The Western woman behind me shouts out “zhi ge shi pai dui”! The man looked at the woman and then fell back. Another assault forward by a young backpacker. “Zhi ge shi pai dui” the woman shouts. The backpacker continues forward but is then harangued by a Chinese man in front of us who says “bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla” which I hope roughly approximates “move your ass to the back and wait in line like the rest of us.”

I don’t understand Russian, but Northern China has many Russians as a result of the two countries’ shared communist history and border. The woman is talking to her 4-year old son and I simply believe they were speaking Russian and therefore assume they are both Russian – mother and son.

By this point, I am about 3 people short of the safety of the metal bars demarcating the safety zone of the taxi stand.

A full on assault begins from all sides with the young couple cleverly hooking my right leg with their luggage cart so that I can’t move without stumbling. Hopping on one leg, I push their cart into the street as the woman sneaks in front of me to the safety zone. The young Russian starts jumping up and down screaming “PAI DUI! PAI DUI! PAI DUI! PAI DUI! PAI DUI!” This draws the immediate support of those Chinese immediately around us who had attempted to maintain order. I can no longer keep up with the velocity of Chinese Mandarin being exchanged around me.

We push closer together as the young Chinese man, now separated from his female companion, struggles to regain control of the cart which is now immediately in front of a taxi, blocking traffic and causing a taxi driver to honk his horn in frustration.

The commotion draws the attention of one of the two taxi attendants who yells at the man with the cart and forces him in line behind me. The left flank is still under assault with the young Russian continuing his jumping and chanting “PAI DUI! PAI DUI! PAI DUI! PAI DUI! PAI DUI!” His mother is exchanging words with the backpacker, who has returned. The attendant moves to the left to restore order, forcing people towards the rear of what used to be a line.

I am now in the safety zone and third in line for a cab. The Chinese woman is in front of me and her male companion behind me with the cart. In the US, I would have happily stood aside. I was not in the US. They had intentionally and knowingly cut in line. I resolved that they would remain separated.

Two cabs arrived and one was assigned to the woman. Her companion attempted to roll the cart over me without speaking. Despite the size of their bags, skinny man was no match for my 92 kilos. I stood firmly as the Chinese woman looked back at me. I smiled and said “Zai jian” (goodbye). She smiled and said nothing as the taxi attendant told her to hurry up and get in the cab.

A third taxi arrives and I walk towards it as the luggage cart exits behind me. Entering the taxi, I say goodbye (zai jian) to the Russian and her son, who both smile and waive goodbye with a giggly ‘Zai jian!”