August 13, 2008

Why I'm about to pay 160 RMB for a hotel burger

Me: "Is there a McDonald's near the hotel?"
Hotel operator: "I do not understand."
Me: "Is there a McDonald's. Near. The. Hotel?"
Hotel operator: "Near the hotel? You want to find hotel?"
Me: "No, is there a restaurant near the hotel?"
Hotel operator: "Restaurant?"
Me: "Yes."
Hotel operator: "Restaurant?"
Me: "To eat? Food?"
Hotel operator: "Chinese food?"
Me: "No. Hamburgers."
Hotel operator: "Hamburgers? Hold on, I check."
Me: "..."
Hotel operator: "Yes, you can go to the gift shop."
Me: "The gift shop?"
Hotel operator: "Yes. Thank you. Bye-bye."

Welcome to Beijing. I feel like I've been plucked from my life in Manila and planted in the middle of Olympic chaos.

Except "plucked" sounds too easy - nothing about the word will make you think about catching a flight after midnight, being stuck at the Seoul airport for four hours and trying to sleep on two seats pushed together while strangers walked past, catching another plane and finally arriving at your destination over 10 hours later when it could have taken less than two hours.

I am at the hotel now, about to post this on Multiply. Then I realized, you can't Multiply in China.

So I'm asking my brother to post this for me. He said, "I'm just like your li'l fancy assistant, aren't I?"

Why yes, naturally.

My stomach is rumbling and I feel dirty so I'm gonna go eat my expensive burger and take a nice warm bath.

Tonight, we're supposed to watch boxing. Over three hours of grown men beating the crap out of each other.

Goody.