Of course you know that I am no dummy, but when I walked into a restaurant for lunch (I believe it was called Choi Fook Seafood Restaurant) that is not used to nor equipped to serve foreigners, I might as well have been.
The restaurant was on the third floor of a building not far from where I am teaching, and I got tired of the Cafe Coral (I was becoming a regular there) so I ventured out past my comfort zone (which consisted of 200 metres to the right of the building I am teaching, and only on the same side of the street) in search of something else. What drew me to this place I have no idea, but there I was. I realized too late that unlike Cafe Coral, there was not an English word to be found... anywhere. There was a sign with the name of the restaurant printed in tiny letters which was how I figured out the (maybe) name.
The truth is I was a bit hesitant. I did not know if I would be able to properly order, and though my fear was somewhat justified, but only partially.
The only menu they had with any English was a dim sum menu of about 15 items, but that was fine with me. I placed a check mark next to two shrimp dumpling dishes, a sticky rice, and spring rolls. That was easy. Trying to get soup was not only difficult, it proved impossible. Another thing I could not figure out is that when I sat down they brought me a teapot which was delicious... but very shortly thereafter they took it away and brought another one filled with boiling water. I tried to explain that I wanted the tea back, but then realized that I don't speak Cantonese. I gave up and drank my water.
The steamed dumplings were quite good, and different from the har gow that I am used to in Canada. The fried dumplings I could have done without (I am not sure that I ordered them, and had I realized what they were I certainly would not have, and the sticky rice was not my cup of... well, boiling hot water.
When I was done they tried to get me to order what looked like a coconut-type desert, but with all of the explaining and delays it was time for me to go back to class, and besides... I don't love coconuts unless they are fresh off the tree.
I walked back to the training centre full but not satisfied... it was not a failed meal so much as the fact that it was the first time I felt that the staff really saw me as a foreign devil, and served me out of obligation only. Maybe it was just their frustration at being completely unable to communicate with me (when I tried to explain I wanted soup one person said they understood, and brought me another pot of hot water). I might go back if I was taken, but other than that tomorrow's lunch will be somewhere else... I think there's a noodles place around here somewhere :)