Superstar Brethren Immigration Bitch

I have just tried and failed and tried and failed and tried and failed to leave a comment on my previous post, but seeing as I'm in China, and seeing as there's this thing called CENSORSHIP here, it's been rather difficult.

I don't know what it is about me and this blog now, I suppose learning that people I know (who are neither bloggers nor home-dawgs) had been reading it, put me off a little. I even attempted to start a new one, but I fiddled with the template's colour scheme and it got kinda uuugly so I ditched it.

Yes, Bitchy is a bit of a lunatic.

But in Beijing, she is something of a mini celebrity.

So far I have been stopped twice by people who wanted to take pictures with me. The first time was at the Forbidden City when B and I were looking kinda shitty. Traipsing round the massive Imperial Palace is hard work! And the second time was when we were taking the pedestrian subway to Tian'anmen Square, after we'd decided that the dash across the insanely wide motorway type road thing could only end in death! And then, I was trying on a dress in a shop a couple of hours ago, and when I came out of the changing room to look in the mirror, a gaggle of people were waiting for me, grinning and nodding and waving and all star-struck like!

Could it be because I'm so incredibly stunning? Or because I'm black?

B insists it's the latter. Apparently many Chinese people are tourists in their own country. They come to Beijing on holiday from regions like Hainan and Xian, and most of them have never seen a black person in real life before. I wonder if they will show my photo to their grand-kids? Teehee, I'm an idiot! But it really is such a refreshing change from the nasty uppity looks I've received in other parts of the world.

I arrived in Beijing on Friday at like 1am. My first actual chat on Chinese territory was... wait for it... with a Nigerian! Actually I wouldn't call it a 'chat' per se as I was really rather stand-offish. He was delighted to see "one of his sisters", as he exclaimed on the plane, whilst I was rather un-delighted. I see Nigerians all the time, big deal! He said he lived in Guangzhou, and from the 'Ghana Must Go' he was carrying, I figured he was a trader.

After the stony reception I gave him, I felt a little guilty and resolved to be more pleasant to the next set of 'brethren' I encountered. I spoke too soon, as the line I joined at immigration/passport check might as well have had "Nigerians" emblazoned in red above the desk rather than "Foreigners"!

I did try though... I smiled when they cracked silly jokes about my scruffy attire making it so obvious that I was a student, blah blah blah har har har.

At the immigration desk, a stony-faced Chinese woman snatched my passport out of my hand. She eyed me up and down without the slightest "Hello" or "Welcome to China" I'd heard other travellers receive from officials nearby, and gave me one of those, "If I had my way, you'd be heading back to the jungle" looks. In my head (obviously not out loud, I didn't want to have to fly all the way back) I went "What the hell did I do to you, you silly cow?" Like 20 seconds later she flung my passport back at me (mind you my passport is a British and not Nigerian one so I really couldn't understand what all the hate was about) and made the 'Shoo Fly' gesture with her hands. Before I left though, I decided to get my own back. Between where I stood and where she sat was a console that said "Rate My Performance". On it were 4 faces, the one on the far left bore a grin and said "Excellent", the one to its right had a half smile with the caption, "Very Good", the third said "Not Bad" and the fourth said "Poor".

Clutching my passport tight (that thing is precious), I slammed my thumb on the "Poor" button and glared back at the mean official. Unknown to me though, when you give an immigration official a bad rating at the Beijing Airport, the console lets out a loud beep! I froze for like a millisecond as her glare intensified into a look of utter outrage, and then scuttled away as quickly as I could, lest she revoke the stamp approving my entry into China!

Baggage reclaim, exit protocol, a scary incident with an unlicensed taxi driver shoving his "I.D. Card" up my nostrils, and I was on my way to B's in a taxi driven by a man who spoke absolutely no English whatsoever.