Where Everybody Knows My Name

So much has changed over these past three years. When I first came, there were about 3 Western restaurants other than the ever present McD's, KFC, and Pizza Huts. Now, we can choose from 7 or 8 good Western places, plus sushi, Starbucks and Papa Johns. And the best of these is Helen's.

About 2 months ago, a friend and I were chatting in the elevator of our apartment when a Chinese girl tried to hand us a flyer. Nearly ignoring her, we said "bu yao" (don't want) and were about to continue our conversation when she began speaking pretty good English and told us that her aunt was opening a Western restaurant nearby. The flyer advertised macaroni and cheese, hamburgers and other good things. When they opened, we were some of their first customers.

Me and Susan, the girl who first told us about Helen's

I've mentioned many times that there are plenty of places that claim to have Western style food, and many Chinese people think that they are eating Western food...but for the foreigners, it's the equivalent of a "Chinese Mandarin chicken salad" from Wendy's...not quite Chinese. Not quite good. The "salads" come with mayonnaise as dressing. The "sandwiches" have Chinese "ham" and fried eggs on them w/cucumbers and carrot slices as toppings. The "chicken pasta" comes with bones.

But Helen's is real. Real hamburgers, real cheese, real nachos, real salad dressing. And it's at the base of my apartment. So for the past two months, it's been our clubhouse. Helen is one of the sweetest Chinese women I have met and I am now part of the family. I call her my auntie. We go so often that we often get free food and always get 10 percent discounts. I've had two big parties there so far and brought plenty of friends there to bring her business, so it's a good trade.

Helen and Ping (Ping is wearing a wig for my wig party!)

Now when I go in, they usually know what I'll order. The servers have become friends with all of us; a coworker is teaching two of them how to play guitar, we have met their children, they come to hang out with us after work. It's amazing. I feel so close to all of them that it's making it even harder to think about leaving.

It's funny how I feel so connected to China through food. When I first lived here, the man who I went to for fried rice learned my name. The little restaurant on campus where I would eat my Kung Pao Chicken and fried potatoes knew exactly what we liked and treated us like family. Now on my new street, I have a fried noodles lady who likes me to hold her baby girl and teach her English. They call me "The pretty American with emerald eyes"(at least that's what my Chinese friend told me) and they always add extra green onions and cabbage to my fried noodles. My market lady knows that I usually want 3 bananas, 4 carrots, several potatoes and 2 onions. She knows that I like eggplant and broccoli and don't like peas or soy beans. And the vendor on the corner knows that I'll always buy diet coke or coke zero from her whenever they have some.

It's these little things that I'll miss so deeply. Street food is amazing, but even more amazing are the connections with the people. They smile and praise me any time I learn more Chinese to use with them, they notice if I've done my hair differently, they tell me about their kids. There's nothing like it anywhere in the States, and I'm trying to savor every last moment of it. Who would have thought that on random streets in a random city in China, I'd feel so at home.