Short Stories

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To the visiting African tourist ‘Chai de Hunfu’ may be described as another canteen to discover the taste of Chinese food and could be rated low amongst the other top eateries in Beijing like: ‘Quan Ju De’, ‘Fried duck’, ’Chai Gen Xiang’, ‘De Zhuang’ and ‘Quiz ma’.

To the English speaking people it may be imperfect and perhaps needed some reform, some kind of shaping up to modern catering dynamics or whatsoever…

But to the conservative Chinese who was either an ‘African tourist’ or ‘the English’ none of such opinion mattered. ‘Chai de Hunfu’ did not need to be invented. It was their local eatery and every day it unfolds varieties of delicacies to the various customers who frequent there to enjoy the flavor of Chinese traditional food.

The day that commenced from nature was a Monday and it has shown promises that it was going to be a hectic one for the workers of ‘Chai de Hunfu’. Right from the on set when Shirley resumed her duty that afternoon, customers ha literary occupied all her tables and she was kept busy. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She ran her hand through her trimmed short hair and whipped the sweat. The three tables under her supervision appealed to many, pulling majority of the traffic towards her. Such situation usually made her to dislike her charismatic nature for she knew by heart that her master would insist that she work for another extra hour! But then there was the blessing that followed such ‘over time’. Heavy Tips!

The monetary incentive Shirley receives at such occasions had encouraged her to maintain her good conduct. She was not only loyal to her master but was always polite and friendly to their customers.

Shirley’s master Mr. Youngi Chai Nyo was in one of his happiest moods. This was also one of the best of times to seek for favors from him. One could resume duty late or break his ceramic bowl and get away with it. And the only time he could tolerate such was when his eatery was enjoying good patronage. Customers were flowing and the business was booming! “All our hands must be on the work for all our profit!” That was his motivational phrase for such rush hour.

Although during their brief meeting earlier that morning, his workers had demanded for a slight increment in their wages. He refused to allow their ‘unjust demand’, as he thought in his mind, to ruin his sweet mood. ‘Have they considered the implication? Did they want him to close his eatery?’ He hissed. “Our work must to move on first…” He simply retorted with a bitter scowl.

Shirley had whole heartedly served her master as a stewardess for three years and during those years, she had proved to be a reliable worker. He could vouch for her honesty. She had even won his ‘Best worker of the month award’ thrice, almost every year. That afternoon he closely watched her attending promptly to the various customers who occupied her tables. She was wearing her conservative uniform. As far as he was concerned, her ‘work spirit’ was more alive than the work spirit of all his other workers.

From the kitchen window her master was amazed by the number of people who were entering his establishment. Nearly half of them had ordered for his specialty dish ‘CHAO- CHI- TING’. He had finished serving Shirley another CHAO-CHI-TING when he thought that he had seen a strange looking figure, of a black man, entering his establishment.

He observed closely as the African scrutinized the dining tables and having found the one that suited him, he quietly moved towards it. The table belonged to Shirley’s. She bowed her head as courtesy demanded of a good host while he tried to settle down.
“Welcome to ‘Chai de Hunfu.” She politely greeted. She offered to him their menu.
“What good food can I serve for you sir?” The man collected the menu and closely examined the ideographic Chinese writing. He had noticed similar writing almost every place that he visited. “I can not read your Chinese writing!” He protested. He returned the menu back to her. “Forgive me.” She apologized then she quickly fetched for the English version and offered it to him. The customer frowned. Her instinct cautioned her that she should be prepared to do his bidding.

“I would prefer that you verbally tell me the type of food which you serve here.” He didn’t sound friendly. She wondered what she should offer to this strange fellow. Most of the customers who had earlier patronized her table were ‘all Chinese’. And now this colored man from…
Then he murmured something like: “I wonder why there are no African eateries in this part of the world! By the way, why don’t you people even serve African continental meals?” The questions he asked increased her discomfort. Her mind cautioned her again to weigh her words against this strange tourist.

Watching from the kitchen, her master became worried. ‘Has the arrival of this ‘lonesome customer’ brought ill-luck to my place?’ He wondered. It dawned on him that some customers were gradually taking their leave and un-announced, without making any order. He picked together the entire possibilities when the pace of customers’ patronage began to reduce like ‘intermediate streams’. His throat tightened at that observation and the sight of the African raised goose bump upon his skin.

In the main time inside the dining area, a burr of Chinese faces turned towards the African and Shirley. Some of them, young, some middle age, some older, but all of them clearly belonging to a different world to his. And they look alike! The African was aware of their gaze. He was like the golden fish …the attracting spectacle.

“What is your name?” He asked.
“Shirley.”
“May I call you ‘Lady Shee?’ “
She smiled. “As you came to like it sir”
“Good. Now that we have an understanding, what can a man from the tribe of Judah order from a Chinese bukateria?” He asked. He brightened his countenance, lifting his eyes heaven wards. Awe struck, Shirley turned around and her eyes collided with her master who tried to assure her that he was watching. The other workers were bobbling their head far away. He watched the expression on Shirley’s face. She appeared dull and he knew she was as troubled as he was. He managed to send one of his workers to her. But she made little of what the message was because it was delivered in deep Chinese proverb: “Whatever was the father of a disease, an ill diet was the mother!”

“Can I serve you Vegetable and Chicken?” She suggested. She pushed her jet black hair back from her forehead.
“Father Lord! I’ll settle for that even at Zion!” He exclaimed. She smiled, nodded and made for the kitchen, thanking her luck that she did not have to go through the rigors of naming all the varieties on their menu.
“Chao Chi Ting!” She gave her master the order. He prepared the food for her and she returned to the dining area, carrying a plate on a stainless tray. “Here is your delicious Chao-Chi Ting! Sir…” She announced. She placed the plate of ‘fried chicken and vegetable’ before him.
“What did you call this food?” he queried.
“CHAO-CHI-TING.” She repeated.
“What does it mean?”
“Fried Vegetable with the chicken.”
“How do you prepare it?”
Shirley wondered what was brewing the strangers mind. “Sorry sir, my master will have the power to explain to you. I am a normal service lady.” She replied in her imperfect English.
“Well then, Lady Shee , I am not accustomed to this your ‘chop sticks’. I will prefer to use folk or spoon instead.” She left and returned with his request.
“Thank you very much Lady Shee. Now please do sit down. I want to talk with you.” He told her. She waved her fingers negatively.
“Sorry again sir, me not allowed to sit and talk with the customer by my master.” She retorted wanting to take her leave. Two other couple who sat on a closer table, kept stealing glances at them. When the woman felt that she couldn’t stand the sight of the stranger any longer she persuaded her man that they should leave. They left without finishing their meal.
“Lady Shee. I need your help…” the stranger called her attention.

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(To be continued in: The Stranger In China…Part Two)

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