Wo Ting Bu Dong.

Just about every weekend I go shopping at the cute little open air market for some bread, fruit, and some crispy duck with spicy chili sauce.

 

There are several people who sell the duck that I like and they are all virtually identical so I shop at the stand that is the friendliest.

The woman that owns the stand that I shop at is hilarious. She is always super happy to see me – it's likely a combination of bragging rights that the laowai shops at her stand and the fact that my Chinese isn't good enough to bargain for the price. She also completely ignores the fact that I can't speak Chinese and rambles on to me anyways. She doesn't seem to care, or doesn't believe, that I totally don't understand.

I was able to answer a few of her questions at first… Where are you from? Wo cong Meiguo lai. What are you doing here? Wo shi ying yue laoshi. Do you want you duck plain or spicy? La de.

 

This apparently led her to believe that I could speak Chinese. Ha. Now every time she sees me she starts nattering on about who knows what. I feel bad because mostly I just respond, "Wo ting bu dong." I don't understand.