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Kentucky Fried China

Today was my last day in Dalian, China, and effectively, my last day in China --

perhaps forever. Tomorrow I return to Beijing before flying back to the states. My

business meetings all went very well here, and, so to celebrate such an

accomplishment, I decided to treat myself to dinner at the Russian-period

Kentucky Fried Chicken in downtown Dalian.

On the way to Kentucky Fried Chicken, on one of the main thoroughfares of 

Dalian, I passed some of the young ladies who helped with our recruiting fair.

They reminded me, as do all Chinese people I know, that KFC is not healthy. It's

pretty easy to laugh off if you have not had lunch.

I arrived at perhaps the most beautiful building ± an early twentieth century

Russian style building -- to house a KFC in the world. The deep red brickwork

clashes with the brash redness of ³KFC´ and the Colonel's goatee. Nevertheless,

this is one building which even twenty-first century marketing cannot completely

deface. The precision-cut dormers and green detailing make it an outstanding

building.

I made my traditional attempts at ordering, which went really well. ³Two big

chicken meats,´ I shouted in third-grade level Chinese. They understood. ³Two of 

these,´ I barked, pointing at the new fruit juices everyone in China is guzzling

(even though they will tell you KFC is not healthy for you). ³Three of these,´ I

asked, looking covetously at the half-portion corn on the cobs of which I

usually only order two. But today was a day of triumph.

I paid and successfully asked for a receipt:´Fapio, neng wo yo ma?´ I thought

that my Kentucky Fried triumph was complete, but then disaster struck. There was

no where to sit. I wanted to go upstairs, but it was blocked off.

Then, a kind woman, sitting across from her nine year old daughter (with soda in

hand, and a Hello Kitty hair band rising behind her head) offered to let me sit

next to them. If this seems awkward in the United States, you have to understand

that eating with strangers appears to be a very common occurrence in China. For

example, on my first trip to China, while at a Kentucky Fried Chicken inShanghai, a couple moved some things and let me sit right next to them while we

all ate when there were no other seats in the restaurant.

In such a situation you have to be gracious, regardless of how poor your

Mandarin is. I began by telling them that I have a daughter. I produced pictures

and pulled out some of my high-brow Chinese:´Piao liang,´I said, which means

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 ³beautiful.´ I then ventured to tell them that she was six years old (all of 

this in Chinese). I proceeded to tell them that I was a history teacher at UNA

(pointing to a name placard with UNA in Chinese). I then told them that I

thought Dalian was beautiful.

Grasping for more conversation, I engaged the girl. ³Do you like chicken meat?´ 

I asked, inquisitively. She responded with a remarkable shaking of the head.

Language mastery appeared near at hand. ³Chicken meat,´or ³jirou,´ is one of my

survival words in Chinese and the only place I dare utter it is in a duly

authorized Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Other tables appeared to be listening in to this strange version of Kentucky

Fried Chinese that the American was attempting to speak. The woman asked me

whenI would be coming back to Dalian. I did not understand, but the young women

sitting on my other side provided the translation.

This made me a little sad. I didn't want to tell them that I doubted I would

ever be coming back to China.

The little girl put on her pink, grey, and white coat, which matched the Hello,

Kitty hair band and left.

 ³Zai jian,´ I said. ³Zai jian,´the lady replied.

I walked out the door after finishing my food, satisfied that I had come to

appreciate Chinese culture, and especially to love its people.

Despite the fact that governments are often reluctant to interact,

I have found that among the people of the world there are enough points of 

contact and mutual interest ± be they a conversation about family or a plate of 

unhealthy American food served up in China ± to recognize our common bonds and

similar aspirations.

Without Kentucky Fried China, this may have been much harder for me to learn.