During my first year of grad school, I shared an office with an affable Chinese grad student named Gongpu. Given that he was a non-native English speaker, there were many moments in conversation when we would have to pause to explain some American pop-culture reference or another to him. Eventually, this morphed into “Gongpu’s vocab list” on the blackboard in our office, featuring such entries as “Richard Simmons,” “Zach Morris,” and “Festivus,” amongst many other interesting and/or amusing items that escape me at the moment.
However, the real joy of having him as an office mate were the chestnuts of wisdom and/or misunderstanding that he would bring to the conversation.
Without further ado–and at the risk of coming off as slightly racist–here are some of my favorite moments from my time shared with the ‘Pu…
Eating our lunches together in the office:
*Looks at the vinagrette covering my mixed greens in judgment*
“Ah, I prefer Franch dressing on my salads…”
“I honestly don’t know if you meant French or Ranch…”
Helping me plan my road trip, with a possible stop in western North Carolina:
*Pulls up Google Maps, begins typing*
“Asheville…uh…how do you spell that? A-S-S-V-I-…?”
*The rest of us, trying to catch our breathes from laughing so ----- hard*
“Gongpu, you seriously thought that town was called ‘Ass-ville’, didn’t you?”
Walking to a nearby Mexican restaurant for a celebratory lunch in honor of him getting his Ph.D.:
“I like Bandido’s food, but I don’t like their beans at all. They look like semen.”
*Me, unable to believe what I’m hearing.*
“Uh, did you say ‘semen’?”
*Pointing frantical to the ground.*
“Semen! Semen!”
At this point, even though we had a frank and open friendship, I was getting a little embarrassed by his very interesting choice of appetite-ruining analogy.
*Looking nervously around the street, whispering quietly*
“Um…you mean like…’jizz’?!?”
*Gongpu, clearly frustrated with me, is practically slapping the ground by now*
“CEMENT, you know, what they make sidewalks out of!”
*Awkward pause*
“Oh. ‘Cement.’ Yeah, I suppose their refried beans have an unusual gray tint to them…”
Okay, so maybe that one was on me. But, in my defense, may this last story provide a bit of exonerating context…
Randomly scrolling through some far-flung acquaintance’s FaceBook profile together:
*They have an abridged quote from the movie Bull Durham on their profile, which I begin to mindlessly read out loud*
“Well, I believe in the soul… the small of a woman’s back… the hangin’ curveball… high fiber… good scotch. I believe in the sweet spot, soft core pornography…”1https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mn5crhTusSA
*Gongpu cuts me off with a sense of urgency, and states judgmentally, yet matter-of-factly*
“Ah, I prefer hardcore pornography.”
…
“Well, that’s not what…oh, nevermind. Good for you, my man, good for you…”
That always tickled my funny bone, the way he had to make it clear that softcore erotica was well beneath him.
So humorous in fact, that I found myself retelling the tale to a captive audience a few years later:
“…and then he looks at me with disdain and says, ‘Ah, I prefer hardcore pornography.’ Can you believe that?!?”
*crickets*
“Nothing? I guess you had to be there…”
I walked away, without getting a single laugh out of them. I couldn’t help but wonder: was it because they were Chinese-American and found my portrayal of Gongpu racist? Or was it because they were married women and were uncomfortable with me talking about such sensual things as ‘the small of a woman’s back’?
Or maybe–just maybe–the Wisdom of Gongpu wasn’t welcome at our church?
I guess we’ll never know the answer to this one…
Content created on: 12 November 2020 (Thursday)
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