Good Times with Jenny

My coworker Jenny is a character. She knows more about the U.S. than your average American. She asks detailed questions and will not rest until she is satisfied with the answer. Jenny and I have discussed the correct way to pronounce “kangaroo” at least three times now. When she says, “Brooke, is it kangaroo or kangaroo?” the words sound exactly the same to me. I know there’s a difference for her that I’m not catching, but we can’t seem to find a place of agreement. I respond with, “kangaroo”, the only way I know how to say it, and she goes back to, “Are you saying kangaroo or kangaroo?” “I’m saying kangaroo,” I say, and on it goes.

This past Saturday, Lina and I took a bus to the outskirts of town to have lunch at Jenny’s apartment. Her daughter, Jia Chuen, is twenty months old. We were surprised at how quickly she warmed up to us. Within minutes of sitting down, she was dancing, clapping, playing with our jewelry, and demanding to see herself on my camera screen. As is common in China, Jia Chuen called me and Lina “Aiyi”, which means “Auntie”. While we played, Jenny buzzed in and out of the room, helping her parents cook lunch. At one point, she popped her head out of the kitchen and said, “Do you like dog meat?” Lina and I both think eating dog meat is a short step away from cannibalism, so we ummed and ahhed until Jenny said, “Okay. Let’s eat beef.” It was a delicious meal. Jenny’s parents are from Xi’an and made dishes that are a little different from Beijing’s dishes. The chicken marinated in beer was a favorite. It was a treat to learn more about Jenny’s life and interact with her in her own surroundings.

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