Right before my website was blocked here, a very, very strange thing happened to me. I had planned to write about it then, but the blog got blocked, the holidays came, and somehow the story got lost in the shuffle. Those of you who know me personally have heard it already; for the rest of you, well…enjoy. I swear this is all true.
One Sunday morning I got a notification from the woman who writes our schedules. There was no text, just an attachment. The attachment was laid out like the forms we get informing us that we have a new class, but it was all blank, except for the Notes section, which read thusly (I have not edited this at all):
We have the report now and already gave the paper to EAC. He needs to read this report during the meeting ,he needs to wear the suit (formal clothes ) ,he should practice this report before the meeting ,he should divide the report into four small short sections , and during the reading , when he finishes one small short section , let TA translate ,the whole report should read like this .
Needless to say, I was a bit confused. I also didn’t have a copy of the “report” it referred to, a formal suit, or any idea when the hell this was supposed to be happening, so I sent my boss an email. Turned out, “the meeting”—whatever the hell that was—was the next morning. I got no further information as to what this was, or what it had to do with teaching English (which is what my job is).
I was already annoyed because it meant that I’d have to cancel my afternoon Chinese lesson to go hunting for a suit. Then our office manager gave me the “report” I was meant to read at the “meeting”. It read thusly (also not edited at all, it came with the typos):
Honorable Ladies and Gentlemen:
On behalf of the Palestinian Mother Poole of Britain, let me express my sincere greetings to everybody.
China is a great country with long history and brilliant civilization. Far from the beginning of the 20th century, the rapid development of agriculture in China indicated that of China was the leader of the world.
For the carrer of “Biscay”, my three years working in China has got great support and help from all governments and relative regions. The series fertilizers of “Biscay” obtained recognition and welcome from Chinese farmers.
I have joined in the “Biscay” conferences many times. But today, except for pleasure, I a, also very astonished that Biscay could develop so fast from south to the northeast China, and got great effect. Until now, Biscay has covered more than 20 prvinces of China. It is inseperable to the hardworking of the Chinese staff.
British Mother of the Palestinian Poole is an organic enterprises of research, technology promotion and international trade. The vice president of the company has served in the International Food and Agriculture Organization, known as the “Father of Fertilizer” in Britain. We have close cooperative relations with agricultural research and the most advanced technologies. “Biscay” exports to more than 100 countries and regions in the world. It provides security for the agricultural development and people’s physical and mental health.
In 2009, the headquarter plans to provide 5,000 tons core raw materials to China to assure enough source of manure, and thereupon the maximize profits for dealers and farmers.
I’m sure “Biscay” will bring constructive and profound impact to Chinese agriculture !In conclusion, I wish the meeting a complete success and merry Christmas.
Needless to say, I became a bit concerned at this point. Aside from the obvious spelling and grammar errors in the “report” I was being asked to give, it was becoming increasingly clear that this didn’t have a damn thing to do with English teaching. At best, I suspected I was being brought in to represent some British company solely because having a white person makes your business look better; at worst, it seemed perhaps I was being asked to impersonate a poop vendor.
The next morning I met up with my “translator” (one of the Chinese TAs from our school) and we got into a sketchy van that drove us to a hotel lobby in the middle of nowhere. On the ride, the TA filled me in a bit on what was happening. I was not “representing” a British company, I was in fact impersonating an extremely high level executive. This executive had gone home for the holidays, but apparently a Chinese company he worked with wanted him to make a token appearance at this meeting with yet another company, probably to impress them.
That’s where I come in. With my goatee, roguish good looks and tie (I wasn’t able to find a suit, or even a sport coat in time), I didn’t exactly look the part, but apparently everyone was hoping that nobody would notice this. This made me more than a little nervous. Then my “translator” asked me if I could answer “professional questions.” I looked at her like she was crazy and she said OK, she would try to deflect them. Oh, good. This was going to go great.
We got there and were met by a whole bunch of people who hustled us over to the room where the meeting was taking place. My “translator” subtly reminded me that I was the boss of everyone (as far as they knew), so I should try to act the part. Whatever that means.
The room, as it turned out, was set up sort of like a press conference. There was a table in the front with microphones and eight or nine seats. Places for important people like the Chinese company executives, local agriculture experts and even the provincial agriculture minister. And, of course, me. Opposite the table were probably two hundred seats full of people. Several different people were filming the meeting and more were taking photos; it was quite clear the press was there.
I sat down at my place and spent a while trying to figure out what the hell my shiny nametag, which read 查理斯, meant before I realized it was the Chinese approximation of Charles, my name. So, I’m supposed to be impersonating some British excrement merchant using my own name? I began to suspect that our ruse might not fool anyone.
Not that I was really trying to help pull it off. I was pretty annoyed with the whole situation, so when called on to give my speech (only after a length and very polite, deferential introduction in Chinese) I gave it verbatim, bad grammar and all. Anyone in the room who spoke English would certainly be puzzled, but I suspect I was the only one who understood it or was even listening, since my “translator” was reading the Chinese version of the speech.
After I spoke, we sat at the table, pretending to listen to speech after speech about how great “Biscay” is, all in Chinese. Most of these speeches were prefaced with kind words and thanks directed at “Mr. Charles”, generally in Chinese, but occasionally even in halting English. I’d nod to them and go back to sleeping with my eyes open.
The aforementioned “Biscay”; this is their Chinese name.
About an hour into the process, apparently the people who hired me began to be concerned that the ruse might not look as good as they’d originally hoped. Via the “translator”, they asked me to lean over and talk to the guy next to me at the table. That way, people watching us would think we knew each other (presumably from our previous business dealings?). The guy next to me was an agriculture expert from a local university, but he seemed much less rabidly enthusiastic than the others. In fact, he looked about as bored as I was. I didn’t know if he spoke English, so I leaned over and told him in Chinese that they had asked me to pretend I was talking with him. He seemed unfazed by this.
Right before it was about to end, they remembered they were supposed to give me water. I wasn’t thirsty, but I was bored, so I opened it and promptly spilled some on my tie, creating a gigantic dark spot.
Then the meeting broke for lunch. We wanted to jet quickly before anyone got a chance to ask me any questions or figure out what was up, but everyone wanted to take photos with me. Some of them wanted to talk business, too, but I pretended I didn’t understand what they were saying and the “translator” deflected their requests for business cards and the like. Anyway, somewhere, there are photos of me shaking hands with some of the highest-level movers and shakers in Heilongjiang’s agricultural field!
And that’s it. We fought through the photos and got out clean, if somewhat weirded out by the whole process. I’m still pretty uncomfortable with it on principle, and I still don’t know why they chose me to go (rather than, say the old British man who loves acting and also works on staff here. No seriously, there actually is a guy like that.). It does make for one hell of a story, though…
