In the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, for example, true locals will say that you can't call yourself a local unless you are born there - leaving not much hope for those who fall in love with the place after visiting as an adult! Other places are not so demanding, however, and the mastering of a few local habits or traits may be enough to fool the average native.
you raised here?
If you want to fake being from Beijing, you must understand etiquette. The North of China is said to have more manners than the South, at least in the way of showing politeness - i.e., the right words in the right way at the right time. Beijing is no exception to this generalization, and just may be the pinnacle of such culture.
So, when a Beijinger compliments a foreigner's accent... should the sweet words be taken with a grain of rice and ought I remind myself that *anyone* who even attempts to speak Mandarin is greeted with warm compliments fit more for royalty? Or is it justification for an ego... if not only for the next 30 seconds until I am again humbly reminded of how illiterate I actually am?
It is hard not to be somewhat prideful when a local asks if, by any chance, it isn't that I grew up here. Here, being Beijing. Ok, I admit this is not the typical response I hear from locals, but even twice is enough to lift me up when I get overwhelmed at the thought of learning 50,000(+) characters (each of which may have between 2 and 64 (!) strokes).
The sweet words came to me last week as I was walking to the subway station: I spotted a vendor selling marvelously golden little fried cakes, which turned out to be 鸡蛋汉堡包, or 'egg hamburger'. Here's a close-up of the golden [special vegetarian version of a] cocoon:
It's easy to see where "egg *muffin" was born...Since I might have been their first vegetarian customer, they said I'd have to wait for about 10 minutes, the time for one round to cook to completion. I was glad to wait. It gave me a few minutes to talk with them, as much as they could manage as they feverishly poured and lifted and turned their golden gems.
It was while my burger was sizzling that they couldn't figure out where I was from and guessed that I had grown up in Beijing. Given my non-Han-ethnicity look and -decent- accent, people often guess that I am from Xinjiang province in China's northwest. Which is to say that I might fall somewhere between the majority (Han at 95%) and minority (Uyghur at less than 1/2%) ethnicities, but not a foreigner.
It was while my burger was sizzling that they couldn't figure out where I was from and guessed that I had grown up in Beijing. Given my non-Han-ethnicity look and -decent- accent, people often guess that I am from Xinjiang province in China's northwest. Which is to say that I might fall somewhere between the majority (Han at 95%) and minority (Uyghur at less than 1/2%) ethnicities, but not a foreigner.
watch the vendors in action
Street vendors often work in husband-wife teams, and this couple worked in an obviously well-oiled rhythm, very much in sync with the other's every move. He handled the first stages of the burger, which meant handling the eggs, and making sure there was a ready supply of batter, as well as pickles and meat. She worked street-side, handling money and bagging the burgers while she simultaneously manned the griddle.
...husband and wife teamwork...
An egg is first fried in a cast iron mold (美式鸡蛋汉堡包机, ¥350), then smeared with spiced ground chuck, and topped with preserved vegetables (榨菜, aka, Chinese pickles):
...impressively clean for street food!
...eggs, preserved vegetables, ground chuck, oh my!
...no chopsticks in sight!
...another soon to-be-satisfied customer
Summer, winter, spring, & fall, these tasty treats await the ready appetite!
On the rare subject of Chinese hamburgers, take a look at this 鸡蛋火腿汉堡包, interpreted as the Egg•Ham•Hamburger (but literally translates as "chicken•egg fire•leg Han•fort•wrap"). It's worth noting that Chinese cuisine overseas is just as authentic as is this 'American hamburger'.
warning: noodles could lead to loudness
You might be of the mind that eating a hamburger in Beijing would disqualify one from being a local. In that case, you might have also heard rumors that the Northerners are louder than the Southerners. Rest assured, the rumors are true! As was recently explained to me, verbal volume is easily attributed to the fact that rice is eaten in the South, while [steamed bread and] noodles are eaten in the North. Right, so... noodles = loudness?
What do [only certain] staple starches have to do with loudness? Well, If you ever have the chance to sit down to a bowl of freshly pulled noodles, you will immediately understand why friends conversing tend to up their volume. The slurping that accompanies the ingesting of noodles is not only a challenge to hear over, but it is an indispensable part of the art of noodle eating!
Never seen noodles being pulled from a batch of fresh dough? Check out this clip of a restaurant in Lanzhou, Gansu province (甘肃兰州）for a peek at the art of noodle-pulling. Price (¥3.5) aside, it was the best bowl of noodles I have ever eaten!
... the best noodles in the world!
If accent is enough to make you a local, then being one of the millions of bikers to ride daily on the streets of Beijing must be a close second. Check here for a video (in Portuguese) of Beijingers' Prefered Mode of Transportation that I helped to film and produce on a consulting job.
And if for a moment you feel the proud ownership of a fuel-free vehicle, it is soon followed by the reality [and implications of] owning such a poor quality bike. It is to be expected that any shop selling 2nd hand bikes are likely running a nightly business that spends an equal effort abducting unsuspecting and briefly neglected cycles.
And so, it is with mixed feelings that I ride each day... thankful to have a bike, but also wishing I had invested in a higher quality [brand of] bike (GBSDLY, perhaps a Czech import?), and meanwhile wondering how to own such a nice bike without it being stolen the 2nd day.
...GBSDLY spells Q•U•A•L•I•T•Y... or not.The last time I was in Beijing, I owned 5 bikes in less than 10 months... so much for the security guards that stood guard day and night at my then campus gates. So, no matter the quality of my bike now... I must say that I am happy that I've had the same bike (to complain about) for the last 6 months, going on 7. :)
But all good things lead elsewhere, and taxying a friend home from campus rendered my tire not only flat, but exhausted. A patch ought to fix it, right? For ¥2, I decided to take a risk. But one day later, I was working up a sweat on a downhill... deflated again, both the bike and I!
...fond memories of the GBSDLY at just one week old...... watch my daily commute by bike
Even bad luck brings goodness. The flat tire of today provided a wonderful opportunity to chat with the 60-ish bike master, who has been fixing bikes for "oh, quite a few..." years. It was small talk, but as it was my second time getting air that afternoon, we talked like old friends. And given that he fixed my tire for another reasonable ¥2, it looks like I'll have another opportunity to visit him in the near future.So remember... the next time you find yourself feeling foreign in Beijing, think on two local words: burgers & bicycles!
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