ugly chinese trash nepal and elsewhere

In a Bhaktapur, Nepal guesthouse it’s dinner time. Five Chinese aliens appear. Two males and three women. They are in their 20’s. They are armed with laptops, cell phones, and loud discursive language. This is normal.

Noise and confusion and interruptions and arrogant attitudes fit their life style. One girl is dressed like a flapper dancer from the roaring 20’s. Daisy Bell talks with her mouth full of rice. Her red diamond tiara squeezes her frontal lobe into a shucked pea. 

They are lucky to have a passport. Their parents are important Red Party Officials. It’s all about connections. They whined their way out of manners and intelligence in public places. They are the new breed of The Ugly Chinese, the lost, terribly frustrated never satisfied in their exported coddled spoiled youth.

They are the new emperors and empresses of a prosperous, for a minority, rising dynasty. They act like they own the restaurant. They complain about the price of a meal. One girl said in a shrill voice, “Oh, it’s too expensive. I am a poor student.” She is majoring in Stupidity and Callousness at Beijing Normal University. She failed Basic Courtesy 101.

A brat boy chastises the Nepalese waiter about his pronunciation of Menu. The crew cut Mandarin idiot commands the boy to say it again, Menu.

They are living, breathing examples of the spoiled one child political and cultural genocide legacy. It will come back to haunt China. They have the emotional maturity of a 15-year old. They are so busy stuffing their faces and talking over each other all the European guests stare at them.

They don’t care. They act and talk like this at home. A new strain of vociferous Chinese virus has been unleashed on Earth. Hong Kong residents call them locusts. 

Suddenly Flapper Dolly jumped up on the table yelling, Kill the Running Capitalist Dogs! Making Money in China is Glorious!

Everyone threw their steel toed reinforced Everest hiking boots at her. She died of Shame. Her friends dragged her body out, selling the boots to pay for her cremation.

Brick boys in Kathmandu valley.

Twins work in Bhaktapur. 

fascinating

You are an object of endless fascination and speculation, said Orphan.

A stranger among strangers alive and well singing a blues song about disorientation, the unfolding process, dynamic. You are a ghost. People here see them before now later. 1.7 million to be exact.

Fear and superstition.

They pray to dead soul spirits because they are afraid of the dead. And it's theoretically possible to say local people have an EI or Emotional Intelligence of -7. This simple truth or unpleasant fact is revealed through behavior, attitudes and verbal communication. It’s a lack of maturity.

Zero personal individual incentive, initiative and growth.

It has nothing to do with culture, families, chance, fate, destiny, education or life social skills. I witnessed the same reality teaching in China, said Orphan, a survivor of Gulag #101.

Should living and learning come before teaching, wondered Orphan. Everyone is a student on peace street where life’s lessons are small and magnificent, said Elf.

There are book smarts and street smarts, said Orphan.

Children are a tool, said a wealthy Chinese man in Laos. He had 2.

Sunday Scribbles

You are an object of endless fascination and speculation. This stranger in their midst. This creature alive and well singing a song about the disorientation, the unfolding process, dynamics. You are a ghost and people here have seen plenty of them. Before, now and later. 

It's theoretically possible to say the local people have an EI or Emotional Intelligence of -7. This simple truth is revealed through behavior, attitudes and verbal communication. It has nothing to do with family, values, education or social skills. I witnessed the same reality while teaching and living in China. Or should living and learning come before teaching? Everyone is a student, especially on the street.

There are book smarts and street smarts. "Theatre of the Street," is opening on Broadway and coming to a theatre near you.

In Asia, it's always a theatre on the street. Hustler heaven on earth. Of course it's all a fake. I am a fake. I am pretending to be exactly who I am. My story is filled with contradictions and paradoxes.

Here's what a small sign said about Buddhist statues in Asia.                                

Gentility - China

Perfection - Japan

Refinement - Thailand

Meditation - Cambodia

Affection - Vietnam

If you sit still long enough someone will pass by ringing a bell.

Metta.