Going with a flow

This must be an interesting sight. A waiguoren (foreigner) grinning to herself, whilst clinched to a Barbie-sized foldable chair dangerously tipped towards a busy road, an unwieldy tray of barbecued seafood on a table-resembling construction in front of her. Oh well, it is clearly not my fault that the best barbecue place in Qingdao happens to be located on the side of a six-lane highway. It has just crossed my mind that I used to laugh at Chinese at my Yorkshire boarding school embarking on weekly 50£ taxi raids to the only Asian supermarket in Northern England bringing back industrial amounts of provision. Years later, when a smiley hostel receptionist inquires 'ni chi le ma?' - have you eaten? - I return a smile and a short 'chi le'. How are you? - Brilliant.

Every Chinese province has its own menu, flavours and eating habits. ‘Let’s eat Chinese’ would baffle an indigenous you need to name a village for him to consider the suggestion.

It is not, however, just the dishes, but the eating culture. A large rotating table is designed for you to be able to compose your own meal on two tiny plates. It is an art. When unpacking the plastic into which the plates have been packed (to show they have been washed) a Chinese focuses his thoughts on the table; little bowl is filled with rice and the show begins. Like a biomedic in a laboratory, the eater gauges meat, vegetables and their sauces into the bowl and the little plate. His chopsticks clear rice bowls one after another whilst pinching the necessary ingredients from the merry-go-round table. Albeit impressive, it may not always be pleasant sight as the shells of crabs, emptied out with chopsticks in nanoseconds, fly onto the floor.

Chinese do not need menus. As my friend occupies another tiny chair next to me, I appreciatingly listen to a tongue twister of ten dishes she produces whilst sitting down. She turns to me with a smile: 'ni chi le ma?'