Buaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrgh!

Spit freezes at -5 degrees. Fact. If you walk around Beijing these days, you’ll find thousands upon thousands of shiny little ice puddles on the ground, or hanging from bins, frozen in mid-drip. So far I’ve managed not to slip on any. However that may be due not so much to my balance but to the skill that allows spitters to make their gland-child into a non-slip, compact little bit of goo. Another part of the skill that allows one to create the perfect loogey is the ability to produce the preliminary guttural noise. As happily demonstrated by locals of all ages, it ideally comprises at least three octaves and has a nice wet quality to its melody.

As alien as this practice is to me and as much of a no-no as it is at home, being but a guest in this country, I would never utter any disapproval of this to anyone. (Actually I’m more than happy to leave this to my colleague, who seems to enjoy telling the local teachers at any occasion how terrible everything is, and how unworthy their standards of living are.) It really is just another quirk of life in Beijing- if you don't like it, there's the airport.

In fact, he other night I felt so immersion-enthusiastic that I was about to practice my throat rocket skills in the safety of my home, bent over the bin. Sadly, however, I failed at the first obstacle- the throat noise just didn’t have that slimy fluency.

Suppose I’ll be leaving that to the locals.

Bis dann,

Nadine