Staff lunch at the Chinese community centre where I’m teaching Mandarin and English.
Bobby the raconteur was telling story after story about being a civil servant in Hong Kong.
I said to the group (all from Hong Kong) that it should’ve been video’d as it was all so witty.
One of them said to me, “You seem to be able to understand all the profound Cantonese expressions he uses.”
I said, “Not really. I just know how to laugh at the right moments.”
(London, 2022)
The lunch routine at the Chinese community centre canteen where I teach Mandarin and English is: when done with eating, take the plate to the trolley down one side of the canteen, scrape off uneaten scraps into the bin, then place the cutlery in one plastic basin and the crockery in the other.
One day, a young man — in his late 20s / early 30s(??) from Hong Kong whom I’d never seen before — was the last to finish his meal. He took the whole lot to the kitchen. I told him that plates were to be taken to the trolley, not straight to the kitchen. He gave me a look of disdain, and went back to his table.
Once my teaching table was set up on the other side of the canteen, he realised I was a teacher. Walking past my table when leaving the canteen, he said a very respectful, “See you, Teacher!” in Cantonese.
(London, 2022)
See also: https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2012/03/old-man-in-chinatown-london-uk.html
