我的一個朋友到中國去拍攝那些新建的大橋間或捎帶些其它。因是首次入華，童心大起。天天寫些見聞寄與眾友一樂，煞是風趣。這裏是其中一篇 （Qufu=曲阜）：
Jet lag finally got to me so I had to take some time to get some sleep. I’m rested and ready to tell you about Qufu.
I owe a guy some money and he gave me 2 options for payback, I could perform a hit for him or I could go to Qufu, the birth place of Confucius. This guy is very much into Confucius so I decided to go there rather than take someone out. Now, there are two things in the world that I don’t particularly like: Balloons and sightseeing. I truly believe Satan had something to do with both. I don’t even like being in the same room with a balloon and sightseeing has got to be the biggest waste of time. This guy would have liked to go to Qufu himself but because of his age and health, it just wasn’t possible and for him, I’d stand in a room full of balloons.
I discovered that no one in Qufu speaks any English, not even a little. That includes the desk clerks in the hotel. So when it came time to go to the Confucius temple, I was at a loss to explain what I wanted to do. I just couldn’t get the woman at the front desk to understand. So I had to draw on my street mime experience in order to get her to understand. I went the whole nine: The black beret; the white face; the black and white striped shirt. I walked against the wind; I did the box and I leaned on the imaginary counter.
She finally got it. Ah, she said, Confucius! She called me a cab and told him where I wanted to go. The cab arrived. It was the smallest car I had seen. I squeezed in with my knees up to my chest, we pulled out of the parking lot. As we turned into traffic, I realized I had left the paper with the name of the hotel in Chinese, in my room. I would not be able to get back. I didn’t know how to tell the driver to turn around so I had to now go into Hansel and Gretel mode. This was not my day because I realized I left the bag of bread crumbs in my room next to my desk top and printer. I left the fax machine and scanner home. I like to travel light. Next time I’ll take the flat screen monitor, I think it will be easier to carry. But I digress. How will I leave a trail? I think fast and toss a sock out of the window, then a couple of hair rollers (I can’t toss too many, I never know when I have to look my best). Finally, I make the ultimate sacrifice, I toss out my underwear. After a six block trip, we’re there.
I spend four hours there walking around photographing everything that isn’t moving. It’s hotter than crap and my feet are beginning to hurt. I buy a coke and sit to rest. There are tour groups passing by and I notice that everyone is staring at me as they pass. When I say staring, I mean eye contact, unabashed; full on stares. It’s not intimidating but certainly weird. Every stare is followed by a smile. I had experienced the same staring when I was buying my train ticket in Shanghai. The guy in front of me kept staring and turning away. Finally he asked me, “where are you from?” “New York,” I said. He smiled and turned away. When I left Confucius’ place, I was standing on a corner waiting to cross the street. There was a group of teenagers waiting beside me. The same staring! One of the young girls finally approached me and asked “where are you from?” “America” I replied. She engaged me in a conversation in very broken English. I could see the delight in her eyes and the eyes of her friends. She just wanted to try out her English.
On the train back to Shanghai, I sat next to two women with the cutest little boy. He was about 3 years old. He stood between the two women and would stare at me and smile then turn away. This continued for quite awhile. Finally, he reached over and rubbed his hand on my arm. He had never seen a black person before. I guess I’m the exotic.
