Take Away in China

Travelling to Yangshuo in 1984 was like stepping back in time. But this trip had another funny twist as our need for "take away food" when Gary was sick, sparked a new way of doing business in one of the small food stalls in a quiet street near the river.

It was cold by the time we made it to the small hotel overlooking the water in Yangshuo and we were tired and damp through. It was 1984 and China had just opened to independent travellers and travelling was tough going. We could only use tourist currency, which was hard to find, stay in tourist hotels which were often out of the way, buy tourist bus and train tickets, which were limited and travel to certain cities. There was little English so being understood took much more than a smile. The cities seemed heaving with people in green communist uniforms with red star caps going about their business. The villages were quiet and traditional with carts and wagons and farmers selling their produce in small markets. We could stop a crowd and bring silence by our appearance on the street.

The boat trip from Guilin along the Li River had been particularly bleak and difficult with us having to push to be allowed on and then being caught in the mist and fog that by late afternoon engulfed the boat. The boat had a few local passengers, but we were 2 of 6 foreigners on that day. The 80 km took the whole day with multiple stops, sometimes for no clear reason. It was after dark when the very delayed boat arrived. With our brand-new Lonely Planets: China in our hand we made our way to the hotel we were hoping to stay in. Of course, as China had already shown us, nothing was going to be simple. The six of us from the boat were all heading to the same place, and it was clear, despite not a word of English exchanged, that they would not take us. They first and ever-present Chinese word “mayo” meaning no way, not possible was there yet again. The only saving grace was that after nearly an hour of much discussion amongst the locals and lots of cups of tea they walked us next door to a far better looking hotel, and reception handed room keys for 3 rooms with mountain views, we gather the best in the hotel. The room was cold with high gloss walls and a cold tile floor. The single heater that soon partly warmed the room as we peeled off wet layers and crashed.

By morning the sun was shining, and we could see the town in all its glory but Gary was not feeling as bright. He had a raging temperature and the beginning of a bad cold at the best and a flu at the worst. The advantage of travelling with a teacher is that they have a plan for every eventuality, and I produced a 3 day supply of cold tablets, wrapped him up, turned the heater on and set off to “hunt and gather” for food as I was starving even if he wasn’t.

Yangshuo was everything it promise and more. The hills surrounded the village which sat beside the river with the remnants of the morning mist lifting. The main street was in full swing with a sea of dark heads and green caps and bicycles laden with everything you can imagine. People stopped as I walked by and looked. I smiled and said “ne how” which bought giggles from the children and smiles from the older toothless women.

The first food stall had an odd assortment of unrecognisable food and a soup with a thick layer of solidified fat on the top. Maybe not. I finally found a collection of food stalls by the river and chose the one with a smiling cook, lots of customers and a nice smell. Always a good strategy I think when you have no other way of knowing. Better still, there were no unidentified objects in pots. The locals were sitting on small stools around low wooden tables. In the damp dirt next to them the cook squatting on the ground with 2 small gas rings. A young girl with long dark plaits was his assistant and was chopping at a worn wooden chopping board to the side. One gas ring had a big pot of rice and the other a large wok which seemed to be rotating different fried foods.

I signaled my hand to my mouth trying to gesture that I wanted food and the old man smiled and pointed. I pointed to rice and gestured to the wok and he tossed it in. I then spotted eggs and tomato, onion and pointed to those and was clearly on the right track as he chopped and mixed, threw in some sauces and in minutes I had an amazing fried rice and had learnt the new words jidan and mifan which seemingly translated loosely into fried eggs and rice.

I ate until I was full and then began how to try and explain that I want more to take away for my husband. Now, that’s not an easy thing to act out in the absence of any Chinese. It also seems that Chinese take away was still not a thing in Yangshuo in 1984. So, when my “take away” rice was cooked I saw some newspaper and everyone watch laughing at the crazy foreigner, as I poured my rice into the newspaper and wrapped it up. I paid and amid lots of talking, smiles, laughter, pointing and shay shay (thank you’s), I headed home with a full stomach and my takeaway in hand.

Gary took some time to shift the bug so for the next week I was a regular visitor to the same stall. I never managed to venture past fried rice with egg and tomato and on the 3rd day the man had a smooth paper lining inside my newspaper and a small bag for me to carry it home in. The next day bought his children to meet me and gave me tea while I waited for my takeaway order.

Gary final emerged from his flu ridden haze, with the help of some small black Chinese balls provided by an old lady near the hotel after lots of acting out like I was dying, but that another story. His first trip out was to visit our cook where he was welcomed like royalty with slaps on the back and an extra serve of, yes you guessed it, fried rice with eggs and tomato. When they started to wrap me up a serve to take away I somehow explained that Gary had eaten and I didn’t need to take it away and I think the penny dropped that I had been feeding him for the past days. Everyone laughed and we said our good byes as we were on the road the next morning.

We had a night back in Yangshuo a few weeks later and yes, heading to our local where we were welcomed like long lost family. We feasted on the usual without even ordering. But here’s the thing…..as we were sitting eating I saw someone come and order rice and the cook scoop it into newspaper lined with smooth white paper, roll it into a cone and turn down the top and hand it to the customer who smiled, paid his money and headed off. Home maybe to feed his sick wife. Who knows but maybe we can take some credit for the first take away Chinese in Yangshuo but if not, we had the best fried rice with eggs and tomato that I’ve ever tasted in my life.