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"Cell phone translators are amazing!"
One morning while eating breakfast at a local restaurant, (Not the cozy small ones in the back alleys, but one slightly more expensive, on one of the main streets) they tried to trick us with the bill. They did of course not speak English, and we tried to solve the dispute. As we were doing this, they started cleaning the table, and everyone got very upset. We paid what was more than reasonable and got out of there. We entered a taxi and went to the bus station. We realized that the backpack, which I kept right next to my leg, was not with me in the taxi. By then it was too late to do anything but returning to the restaurant after the trip to the Great Wall. (I will write about the trip to the Wall later.) We figured it was better to bring someone from the hotel to translate, so we did. But it turned out that the restaurant was rented out in the morning, so the ones we needed to talk to, were not there. We brought the manager from our hotel and went back the next morning. He was really not pushing enough I think (he probably wanted to keep a good relationship with the rest of the neighborhood.) and the person in charge of the restaurant (refused to give the backpack back), told us they had not seen it. I don't know if they took it while cleaning the table, or after we went out, but one thing is sure; they took it. There were almost no other guests in the restaurant. So I called the police and had them come to our hotel.
There were two big, male, high-ranking police officers, and a giggly, young female officer who spoke some English. They noted down our story, and asked to join them in their police car and come to the station. The car was an old VW Santana, probably from 1987 or so. Me, one of the Swedes, and the three police officers literally filled the whole car. And the car, small as it was, filled the whole with of the back alleys they drove through to get to the police station. Around us people were making food, butchering chickens, and washing their clothes. Half of them actually touching the car as it squeezed by. We came to a small police station, but it looked more like a kebab shop from the outside. Inside there were pictures of kittens and a map indicating the district the station was supervising. The young girl who spoke some English told us: "You have to wait here. Hihi. 45 minute." We asked if we could get out to find some food, since we had not eaten yet, and she asked some of the higher ranked officers, after telling them our story, and giggling as always she told us we could go, but had to be back in "20 or 30 minutes, hihi." We walked around, and bought some bread and water in these small allays we had been driving through. They were just wide enough for two people to meet without twisting to avoid hitting each other, but people were biking and driving scooters, cars and just about anything on wheels there. When we got back to the station a police officer asked us to follow him. He got on a bike, and we walked after him back to our hotel, where he got a huge police minivan. He then drove us 5 minutes to another, larger police station. We go inside this huge concrete communist building and the first thing we see is a picture of some Chinese police officers cleaning a huge pile of guns. We go up the stairs and end up in a room with a Chinese lady who does not speak English, after a couple handfuls of fingers pointing us in the right direction. After showing us in and asking us to sit down in her office, she was reading the papers we got in the first station. Then she called up someone who spoke English. I got to talk with him for about 20 seconds before he asked me to just wait in the office, and hung up. We waited for a while in the hall outside the office, and I tried to yell at everyone walking by: "Excuse me miss/sir, do you speak English?" But none of them answered. With some drawing and pointing at the watch, we learned from the police officer in the office that the only guy in the building who spoke English was in a meeting, and would be done when both the small and the little arrow on the watch pointed at 12. Two hours later. We could not wait that long, and figured we should try to make a move. We could not make the woman call the guy who spoke English again, so we had to try communicating with other means. Finally, a security guy, in a military outfit showed up. He was probably about 18 years old. And he understood the words "help", "very", "good" and "English". With this and his cell phone, which had a Chinese to English translator, we managed to fill out the paperwork needed to get some stamped documents to send to the insurance company. We were out of there by 11, and walked back to the hotel.
The whole time, we were a lot more amazed over the system, than we were annoyed. The only thing that annoyed us was that we did not bring a camera. Pictures from the police cars in the narrow streets, the police officer in the office, who was sitting there staring at the wall for hours, not doing anything, and the funny looking security guy in way too large clothes would all have been great pictures.
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