The story of the (Chinese) Ugly Duckling...

I live close to the US Embassy, so security at my apartment block is quite tight. Keeps the riff-raff out.

 

Having said that, NONE of the 'security guards' look very intimidating...even on the embassy steps. One of our guys was particularly non-scary : a bit like Stan Laurel in an army suit. He couldn't speak a word of English. The other guards obviously took the p*ss a bit, so we always made a fuss of him - we 'High-5' him as we enter & leave and this initially wound the other guys up, and we started to do the same with them all - slowly, it seemed, 'Stan' became accepted by his colleagues because we made him look a bit cooler. And we always say "SEE YOU LATER!" to each other. I felt we'd done him a bit of a good turn, and he became one of the boys, no longer sat on his own.

 

I'd occasionally bring him a Starbucks home - remember, a Starbucks is THE symbol of the superior Western world, to which China aspires. He was MADE up...he even kept the paper cup, and we often saw him posing by his little hut with it, even if it was full of rancid, pig-infected tap water.

 

A couple of weeks ago, I mustn't have been very convincing with my 'High-5' when I left in the morning, and when I came home that night, he waved me into his little hut. I'd been in before, when he insisted on playing me some shite music -very loud to the point of distortion - on his phone, shouting "JUSTIN BIEBER!" but this time, it was different. He stood opposite me and looked deep into my eyes...then pulled the corners of his mouth down, to simulate a sad face. How very perceptive of him. He then handed me a tiny fruit - I think it was a lychee - and then pulled the corners of his mouth up. In other words - "CHEER UP YOU MISERABLE SOD!".

 

I confess to being deeply touched.

 

At that moment,there was no language barrier. Just friendship and caring...across two generations, 5,000 miles and two cultures.

 

The other day, using his phone to show me a date, and gesturing with his hands to make a plane, and repeating "Beijing" and shaking his head, I worked out he was telling me he was leaving the city. He put his arm around me and - with the other outstretched - took a photo of us together, shaking me furiously by the hand.

 

That evening, I walked up to Sanlitun where I buy all my dodgy fake stuff, and bought him a 'genuine' Rolex...I hate the things, but to most people it's the symbol of 'wealth'...

Rushing back, I presented 'Stan' with his gift, and he was overcome with emotion & running around in circles. He muttered allsorts in Chinese, and for a moment I feared he'd break out into a Justin Bieber medley.

 

As he shook my hand feverishly and we posed for more photos with his jealous chums, and after stabbing at his phone, he managed to suddenly find one word of English that I will always remember...

 

"FRIEND".