儿's and "er"s

One thing people have trouble with when they come to Beijing is the Beijing accent, especially heavy in cab drivers who tend to slur their words in addition to a liberal use of the 儿, as in, 你去哪儿 (ni qu narrrrrrrr）? It makes comprehension that much more difficult for the non-native speaker such as myself. More confusing still is that not every word ending in an "n" sound gets turned into an "er." The word for gate, 门 (men), turns into 门儿 (men-er, or mer) . Same goes for hospital, 医院儿 (yiyuan-er, or yiyuar) and skewers, 串儿 (chuan-er or chuar). I can't even think of cases where you don't add an 儿, and still haven't quite figured out when to use it, so I just end up using it all the time. But I know it’s wrong. It is equivalent, says my Lonely Planet guide, to a Chinese person coming to the States and speaking in a thick Creole accent all the time.

Anyway, and I know it’s a bit of a stretch, but it made me think of a recent discussion I had with Garry and his roommate about “er”s as they relate to positions, titles, and identities. For instance, someone asked if Chris would consider himself a “surfer.” His response: “I surf, but I’m not a surfer.” So, what kind of “er”s did apply to him? Teacher, yes. Gardener, yes.

It reminded me of how, in Hollywood, some people would completely embrace the label “writer,” while others would turn their eyes away, sheepishly, and echo, “I write, but I’m not really a writer yet.” So when does one do so much of a certain verb that one earns the “er”? In the case of writers, I assumed you could only really call yourself a writer when you are actually paid to write, (and I would look archly at anyone who claimed to be a writer who had not yet sold a script… this sort was generally considered “aspiring writer,” as in, they aspire to someday be paid some monetary sum, however small, for their labors).

There are other things that you can do without being paid, and still earn the “er,” like gardener or dancer or mother (who does, I guess, a lot of moth-ing har har). Anyway, again, kind of a stretch, but I guess one could look at the Beijing 儿 in a similar way, like you know you’ve really arrived when you know how to use the儿’s correctly. I guess I have a long way to go.

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Anyway, the lowdown on last week:

Monday: Back to Isshin for some yummy Japanese staples like pork katsu with curry, salmon sashimi and tempura-fried soft tofu.

Tuesday: Went to some delectable Sichuan-style place that looked like some very rich man’s mansion, with koi pools galore and many a grand staircase inside. The food included some special fish flown directly from Sichuan, a long slimy little thing that was rather tasty, but gave me the creeps.

Wednesday: A fancy Taiwanese place in the Gate 8 (新中关) shopping mall. Delicious beef. Pretty solid on the stir fried cabbage with bacon too.

Thursday: Huge dinner party at my favorite Xinjiang restaurant where we gorged on 拉条子 (hand-pulled noodles), 大盘鸡 (da pan ji), 羊肉串(lamb skewers), 酸奶(yogurt), and mutton over Muslim bread soaked in delicious juices.

Friday: Good gracious. Super late dinner at South Beauty in Chaoyang, another Sichuan place. One amazing dish involved dunking thinly sliced beef in a big bowl of hot oil until it was cooked. Meatball, “delicious chicken,” and other staples were also great. Swung by the bookstore, Bookworm, to have a peek. Then we went to Sanlitun under the pretense of going to Bar Blu, but my real intention was to see if the Xinjiang Boys were playing at Cheers that night. THEY WERE. Oh, it was glorious. We stayed until like 3am just dancing and singing along to covers of the Gypsy Kings and 4 Non Blondes. Then, someone had the brilliant idea of heading to Cashbox KTV, the karaoke palace. Yaaaaaaay, 24-hour KTV!

Saturday: Somewhere between the stuffy confines of Cheers and the numbing cold air outside, I got sick. Plus tummy issues. So I spent most of the day in bed. Sadness.

Sunday: Went to the Lama Temple for a brief stroll, marveled at the 6-story-high gilded Buddha. Headed to Xidan for some shopping, but didn’t get anything. I never cease to be amazed at the Chinese’ capacity for shopping. Gigantic malls everywhere, full of stuff. Sheesh. Then proceeded to take 3 subway lines plus a taxi to the Lido Holiday Inn, to visit my uncle.

Tonight: Met up with a new friend (who happens to work for Jet Li, har har) at the Starbucks in Houhai. I got a tiny gingerbread latte for the unreal price of Y29. That’s like $4. I don’t know who can afford this stuff. It was freezing tonight, but we proceeded to wander around the hutong looking for No Name Restaurant, this Yunnanese place I’d read about. We had to stop for directions. It was freezing. Finally we found it, tucked away in a back alley. It was a pleasant surprise, gorgeously decorated with mirrors, great lighting, koi ponds, mosaics, fancy lanterns:

Food was really good, but not quite on par with Middle 8^th. Liked the Chinese greens sautéed with fragrant smoky ham, and Yunnanese fragrant rice with cubed potatoes, apples, and mushrooms, and lemongrass grilled fish:

There was a random kitty hanging out around the tables. Not terribly hygienic, but super cute. Here he is, toyin' with the koi:

Lastly but not leastly, two Google tools I have come to know and love: Google Pinyin, and Google Translate. Hallelujah.