PART199 back to the barbique and a picky tramp

Tuesday, 17th, August, 2010. A
sad revelation when rewinding the memory you don’t remember a thing from the
day before. Maybe its not that I don’t remember, but that my recorder is
broken. When I ask (with pleases and thank yous) “computer please bring up
files from yesterday”, I am met with blank non responsiveness. Let me think harder;
Let me lash my crap brain into usefulness. “Mush!” (One of the negative aspects
of recording a diary the next day)…….Ah yes, I remember now.


did very little indeed. I woke up late and after splashing my face I went straight
back to the budwa and started reading Saki’s short stories again. This went on until
lunch (donkey, noodles and beer) and then I leapt straight back on the book until
I got the bright idea to go to the barbecue again for supper. Sarah voiced her
agreement and she called her cousin Haohao.


Later in the afternoon we all slowly walked
to the barbecue area and by some freak coincident(called living in a small town)
we bumped into Haohao’s Dad( his name is Yifu, which is also the same name for
cloths in Mandarin, with different tones, at the beginning I was confused when
Sarah told me “ cloths is coming here”). He was distracted and not very communities.
We said a small hello and then he was off. Anyone would have thought he was
unhappy with us but then again you (I mean me) can never really tell with
Chinese people. It’s what makes the whole experience so exasperating and so interesting
(aren’t they the same thing? just with different measurements of good or bad
thrown in?). Then again with that really badly thought out saying you could say
a blow job and a kick in the gonads are the same thing just with a different portion
of pleasure and pain. Which of course obviously and thankfully they are not


We had an unhealthy batch of chicken claws
and beef, beer, pork and other things on a charred stick. A tramp pasted by
asking for alms. I offered up a couple of chicken claws on a stick and he
refused, instead lifting up a metal cup encouraging paper instead of sinew. “A
fellow none feet eater”, I mused as Sarah and Haohao spoke loudly about how could
a real tramp rightly refuse food. I semi agreed but then again I did offer
chicken feet.



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