There goes a foreigner
Last night I was walking along and a child who was sitting with - presumably - its parents yelled out “老外”, which means “old foreigner”. The parents, rather than scolding the child for using abusive language on the street, looked over to me to see how I would react. 误人子弟
The other day, I was walking along within university campus grounds. I heard a whistle, like someone was trying to attract my attention - must be important - I was greeted by a male student, walking with a group of friends, who yelled “hello” at me.
I went out for dinner with some friends the other night. Within the space of less than a minute, two groups walked past me saying “hello” and “hello hello hello hello” in low tones.
I hardly ever buy something at a shop without other customers asking the person behind the counter where I am from and why I can speak a bit of Chinese. The shopkeeper usually obliges them and tells them everything they know about me, in my presence.
Recently I went on a weekend-long excursion, hosted by a number of universities, for “foreign” teachers (a collective term which simply wouldn’t be used in Australia). Some of the Chinese university staff, who, one would assume, specialised in liaising with “foreigners” as a skill, referred to us as “老外” among themselves. So much for any special skills when it comes to liaison.
There are worse, but I’m just making this post public at the airport. I’ll add one or two stories to this post soon.
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