Coming home tomorrow for three and a half weeks...

But in the meantime I'm looking up "kumis" on Wikipedia: Last night we after dinner everyone (meaning me; Alison; Phil; Jake, a new teacher who's working in Hohhot for the next month; and Ally, a Mongolian girl whom Alison and Phil met as she is a tour guide around here) came back to our apartment to watch some British comedy in the form of I'm Alan Partridge, which I'd just finished downloading (I mean... acquiring legitimately). Alison and Ally stopped on the way to get some beer, and also picked up a small bottle of what Alison proclaimed was "milk alcohol" when she came in. On closer inspection of the (Chinese) writing on the bottle she found that not only was it "milk alcohol," but "horse milk alcohol." It was somewhat foul tasting especially given that its alcohol content was only 16%. Ally informed us that this stuff even has an English name—i.e. kumis. Well colour me watered-down milky colour!

My Lonely Bike

I forgot to post a picture of my bike which I was so excited about back at the time when I got it. It has been a bit neglected lately, seeing as the roads have been quite snowy, icy, muddy, or any combination of these.

Here it is in all its glory: basket, rattrap, and one speed. I can contentedly ride it in street clothes, whereas at home I feel obliged to wear something more suitable to sweating in. That's not really a concern on this bike since it maxes out at about 24 km/h. (By "maxes out" I mean that if I push it any faster then my legs spin into oblivion.) I wish simple bikes like this were more readily available at home; instead, it seems people ride fancy-pants mountain or racing bikes, or nothing at all (with the exception of the small community of people with custom-made "choppers" and such—I saw a group of these in Stanley Park at the end of last summer and will confess some amount of envy).

Harbor Cafe

This entry is named after a shop located across the street from Alison's school. They have a bakery downstairs, which is quite unique in its selling of bread that very closely approximates bread you might buy in the West.¹ Upstairs is a rather cozy restaurant, again with some half-decent Western dishes. It's one of the few dining places around that stays open between about 1:00 and 5:00 in the afternoon, and we ended up there yesterday for a late lunch.

The first thing of note during our meal: There were three girls at the table next to us, and one of them had chosen to bring her puppy along.² It divided its time between sitting on her lap, briefly roaming around the floor and paying us a visit, and having a short crawl about on their table. (Apparently the table in question was Alison's and Phil's regular spot to eat; I think they've decided to change henceforth.)

On the way out I saw something else that piqued my interest. The restaurant is pretty eclectically decorated, with the walls adorned with an assortment of decorations from photos of old American movie stars to a motorized folding bicycle. What I saw was one thing I never expected to see posted in a public place anywhere in China: A movie poster for Seven Years in Tibet.


¹This is unusual because most things that look like bread here actually contain one surprise or another: maybe it's sweet, maybe it's got a mystery filling, maybe it's got fish flakes sprinkled on top.

²Maybe I should be glad that "hanging out in a restaurant" was adding to the dog's range of experiences; after all, who knows how long it had to live. It seems people in this country acquire dogs and cats at way too young an age when they should certainly not be removed from their mothers. That combined with the less-than-ideal care and diet provided by their owners doesn't make for much of a life expectancy.