Safe travels

Since I didn’t know how many opportunities I would have in China to blog, I’ve lined up a few guest posts for you. Here is the second one, from my completely awesome cousin, also known as Anderwoud.

So cousin-dear has gone off to China, and her being who she is, she probably got to the airport speaking fluently Chinese (Not only standard Mandarin, but Wu, Min, Gan, Jin, and Hui too), carrying her insurance papers, diplomas, ID cards, and driver's license with her (in threefold and in different bags), had her students all write their will, and told all stray puppies in Georgia to keep quiet until she gets back. She'll have painkillers, toothbrushes, sun block, antihistamines, and something against snakes, ticks, mosquitoes, and possibly rabid dogs stacked away in an easy to reach pocket, right next to the Rescue Remedy and nose spray, and until she has had her first smoggy run, she'll be as tense as a slinky on acid. No, I don't think that's exaggerated. It is, in fact, how I would prepare, and although we couldn't be more different in many ways, preparation-wise we're both quite...ehm...well, just read this paragraph again.

Those who don't know her won't know about or notice the Slinkyness, though. She'll look like a weary traveler, cool as a cucumber (do people still say that? I always liked that expression), guiding her chicks around, possibly correcting people on their pronunciation of the word 'kele', which I recently learned means 'Coke'. I really hope she'll do the teahouse and Confucius trip though.

But will she be able to get her students out of the McDonald's? I doubt it, not because I don't believe in the adventurous minds of cousin-dear's students (the lucky bastards, summer school in China!), but because in my experience many people travel abroad only to look for what they already know. Like Happy Meals. Many Dutchies fly to Turkey, a country with an unbelievably rich history, beautiful views, and great food, where they lock themselves up in an all-inclusive resort with fat-dripping buffets, umbrella drinks, and paid child-minders. Without ever wondering what's outside their cozy gated community. Turkey is like the Dutch McDonald's.

Why is that yellow M a sign of safety for travelers, I wonder? When I studied in Sweden, my Belgian, German, Greek, Portuguese, and Austrian friends always wanted to go to the Mac. We would meet there for our coffee breaks, share the occasional meal, and although Stockholm is littered with beautiful places where you can get ice cream, my friends preferred to sit inside and eat the same sundaes they would eat at home. I wondered why they'd come to Sweden really. No, they said, I was wrong. They were in Sweden, enjoying Stockholm, they were just eating the food they liked. Not because they were afraid to try Janssons Frestelse or surstromming, which they were sure were OK, but they just happened to like fries and burgers, and why was I always complaining? To prove that they were really culinary adventurous, we once went to Pizza Hut.

I'm not sure if cousin-dear will try the stuffed chicken-necks in China (not without the right condiment anyway), but I know she'll go exploring. She'll go to markets, check out feminine hygiene products and the toilet paper in the supermarkets, meet interesting new friends and do things she can't and probably won't do back home. And when she gets back, probably with lots and lots of stories and pictures, I hope she'll bring me a Happy Meal toy as a reminder of old times.