BEIJING - Under my right arm during each Chinese adventure is a Little Yellow Book.
This is the "Langenscheidt Pocket Dictionary: Chinese," a six by three inch guide to the country. The Langenscheidt gets me out of traffic jams, helps repair broken appliances, and led to my recent acquistion of Aghan currency. I consider it invaluable, which is why I found it particularly strange when a middle-aged Chinese man got off his bicycle in the middle of Tsinghua's busy pathways and asked me how much it cost.
"Eighty kuai," I said, which is about $10.
"Can I see it?" he said. The man wore an old windbreaker and khakis. He looked too old to be a student, but lacked the air of sophisticated and academic wisdom that inhabits most professors. Perhaps he worked at the library, or was a doctoral student. He spoke English quite well.
"Pock-et Dictionary," he said, reading the teal blue text on the cover.
He stared down at the book for a while more. "So this is about 14 American dollars?"
I let him know that his estimate was a little high. He handed me back the book, gave me a farewell wave and kept on biking.
Why he stopped me I'm not sure. Maybe he had a copy that he wanted to sell, or is in the market for an English-Chinese dictionary. Maybe he just thought it looked cool.
