I'm Guessing So.

Something always makes me laugh at work, to a point where I'm cracking up, holding dirty dishes and everyone is staring at me. To make matters even better I try to explain, while still laughing. Its not like they understand me when I speak clearly, or slowly, so just add some guffaws and snorts and its pretty much hopeless. The best part? I always end with, "Look at me, I'm craa-zy!" In a sing-song voice...just in case they think I'm being serious. That makes the whole situation better for them, and they can then laugh comfortably.
I swear I'm going a little crazy though.
Training, for me, means someone walks you through some motions or job, then have you do it on your own, maybe correct you but really they're there the whole time. Is it like that at iCafe? Nay nay!! They set you loose, have you watch others or make hesitant guesses on what to do, what the standard is, and how much work you need to accomplish. So far I've done a bang up job of pretending like I know what to do, and I think I fooled them. Til today. It's like the whole two weeks I've been at iCafe was an illusion to how I'd actually work, and the culmination of all the mistakes I should've made, were made today, like dropping silverware, flipping trays at customers, dumping orange juice on my foot, stepping in gum (ok that's not actually a mistake, but its still annoying!!) and etc. All this mid heavy heavy business hours.
I'm not a patient person. In fact you could say I'm in-patient which means more than impatient, (just like in-famous, which means more than famous). To have me do a job without telling what is expected is hard enough, but to correct me WHILE I'm rushing around trying to keep up with the traffic of crazy people getting up, eating, making messes, yelling for plates to be removed that I try to remove earlier, but OH NO can't take it then, kinda traffic...is not cool.
Also, its even more frustrating to say to someone how frustrated is, then have to explain what frustrated means while biting back a flow of not so nice things. Don't get me wrong, I really like my cowor--- colleagues, and they are really nice about any mistakes I make...but I hate making them in the first place. I just want to be told what to do, and how to do it...without someone breathing down my neck, but without watching me fail either! Doesn't help that they are playing Christmas music, buuut they added some techno/synthesizer action to "mix it up".

Now I mutter things to myself while dumping heaps of shells and shrimp casings into tiny bins, while I make inane comments to the servers around me. When I'm in the dining room, its all business, gracious smiles and upright postures, but at that pantry I'm basically a six year old. I mean...I drink a lot of juice. And I make faces at people, and make bird noises. For some reason though, these people still want to talk and be nice to me.
On a sad note, today was Jackie Chan's last day, and our German friend Thomas is leaving Dalian tomorrow. So many goodbyes already and its only been four weeks. I'm not looking forward to leaving behind the friends I've made here, even though I know I'm going back to the ones I couldn't leave either.
What's the deal with all these leavings and comings? I've known for years that's there's always goodbyes, and always meetings. They just mean more the older I get.

Another highlight to my day is the escalating conversations I have with our Chinese or Japanese guests. They go, "blah blah, something something, blahhhlblah?" And I say, with a little smile, "Mei guo". This sparks a delighted reaction and they begin firing off questions, first one being, "blahh blabhahsomethingblahh?" So, of course I reply, "yi dian dian". THEN a flood of conversation follows in rapid fire Chinese and I have to shake my head, give a little self deprecating laugh and say sweetly, "dui bu shi, wo bu mingbai".
Translation?
Chinese Guest: Oh, I can see that you are not Chinese* Where are you from?
Me: (guessing) I'm from America. (little smile)
CG: (excitedly) Oh! Since you answered in Chinese you must speak it fluently, am I correct?*
Me: A little. (smile a little more)
CG: Blah blahblahh something blah blah!!!
Me: Oooh, sorry, I don't understand. I can only say 'America', and 'a little'. (self deprecating shake of head, polite laugh)
*Denotes dialogue I think they're saying.
It happens like that Every. Single. Time. Guessing has become a daily exercise, and talking to my colleagues is like playing drunken Mad Gab.

Also, my arch nemesis here in China; tiny tables, exactly butt height, and not exactly hip width apart. I picked up about five salt and pepper shakers today.