Mindanao Advice

In the Prologue, I mention that liquor is often served in large quantities during business dealings in China. However, this also happens privately, as I discovered when I accidentally encountered the tiger woman, Bai Hu. Here is an excerpt from the book about our first meeting:

Bai Hu was an unmarried masseuse in her forties who wanted a son with blue eyes. She liked me at first sight. Initially, I thought it was about my intellect, but that did not impress her. I ran into her by chance in a restaurant in Shenzhen, where I tried to explain to a waiter that I had not ordered chicken feet but slow-cooked chicken. It was challenging because I didn’t know the language, and the menu was in Mandarin. When I ordered, I used sounds and body language to explain that I wanted slow-cooked chicken, one of my favorite Chinese dishes. 

I clucked like a hen and mimed a pot with slow, deliberate movements. His face lit up, and I thought he understood. Instead, he returned with a large plate of chicken feet, one of those Chinese delicacies I don’t like. I attempted to clarify again, mimicking a hen’s clucking and gradually transitioning into bubbling sounds to depict boiling water. However, the waiter misinterpreted my gestures, assuming I wanted fish and gestured toward an aquarium. Just then, Bai Hu entered the room, accompanied by an elderly furniture dealer who had a fondness for chicken feet. Hu spoke English and actively participated in the discussion. After resolving the misunderstanding, she decided the overweight furniture dealer would take the chicken feet. She then ordered slow-cooked chicken for me, which suited me just fine. After a week filled with misunderstandings, I needed someone to talk to.

Hu told me that the furniture dealer was a customer who had come from Beijing to be massaged with her homemade flower oils. He only spoke Mandarin, but I quickly understood he wanted something more than chicken feet, as he was always preoccupied with her ample bosom. He knew one English word: big. For every chicken foot he ate, he pointed at her breasts and said big, laughing out loud. Out of politeness, I laughed along and answered big every time he said big, and Hu, who didn’t want to lose her important customer, laughed the loudest.

The furniture dealer was in such a good mood from conversing in English that he ordered wine with his meal. For many wealthy Chinese, wine with food signifies costly liquor served in a brandy glass, emptied in one go. Before my slow-cooked chicken was served, the furniture dealer and I had already consumed two glasses each of Martell XO cognac. We downed them in one gulp and exchanged toasts with our glasses raised while Hu snapped pictures with her mobile phone.

The laughter grew louder. When the slow-cooked chicken arrived, and I said, big, the furniture dealer laughed so hard that he got a chicken foot in his throat. Hu quickly stood up and slapped his back several times before attempting to perform the Heimlich maneuver. I swiftly assisted her, but the maneuver proved ineffective on the overweight man. He slumped down at a round revolving table laden with party food, surrounded by the chopsticks of a newly engaged couple and their families. All were frozen in silence. Two waiters rushed over and began administering first aid as an uneasy murmur rippled through the room. Some other guests and I helped lift the heavy furniture dealer onto a trolley table. Hu instructed me to wait and followed her client as he was wheeled into an empty VIP room.

Time passed slowly. The cognac bottle was open, and I hesitated before refilling my glass. Some guests had interrupted their meals and left, while others quickly shook off the incident.

Hu seemed relieved when she returned, and we were invited over to the newly engaged couple. Hu explained that the furniture dealer was dead when the ambulance arrived. Attempts at resuscitation had been unsuccessful, and she had divulged what little information she possessed about the deceased.

The bride-to-be felt honored that a man who had assisted Mao in selecting furniture departed from this life at their table. Passing away in a festive mood is a fortunate way to go. Hu agreed, expressing her belief that he would be reborn into a wealthy family and achieve greatness. The situation felt absurd, yet its gravity prevented me from laughing. For many Chinese, reincarnation is a natural concept, and Hu’s earnest belief in it was intriguing. I was blissfully unaware that this belief would soon yield serious consequences. I tried my best to be friendly.

Everyone around the table quickly agreed that the furniture dealer would experience a swift revival, sparking speculation among the bereaved when they read the newspaper birth announcements. Hu translated, and I had yet to learn if they were serious or if it was just a way of processing the unpleasant experience.

The restaurant owner appeared and said we could order anything at the house’s expense. Hu showed the owner the pictures she had taken of the furniture dealer while he was eating, and an intense negotiation about the price began. The photos would ensure the restaurant’s publicity. The furniture dealer was a hero of China, and his last meal would generate public interest.

Hu was well-paid and quickly became the centerpiece of the company. She explained that she had always wanted a son with blue eyes, and fate had led her straight to me. There was no doubt about what she meant, and I tried to smile as pleasantly as possible while I struggled to get my chopsticks to cooperate. More wine was on the table, this time 25-year-old Chivas Regal, a fine whiskey that should be drunk very carefully. But careful is not a word the Chinese know regarding liquors.

Uncover the extraordinary challenges and adventures that await in Mission Madness with a Chinese femme fatale! Check out this mini-novel here