For U.S. citizens in Shanghai, a lot of things happen at the U.S. Consulate’s office on Nanjing Xi Road. If you have a document you need to get notarized, you go to the consulate office. If you lose your passport, you go to the consulate office. If you need to register to vote back home, you go to the consulate office.

There are also many Chinese citizens who go to the U.S. Consulate’s office. Anyone Chinese citizen who plans to visit the U.S. must apply for and obtain a Visa...where?

You got it! The consulate office.

So every morning, Monday through Friday, there are two lines at the consulate office: 1) a short line of U.S. citizens, and 2) a very, very, very long line of Chinese citizens.

Thankfully, the consulate office is a well-organized place. U.S. citizens get in quickly and have a separate “U.S. citizen” room where our needs are taken care of quite efficiently. The Chinese folks have an equally efficient process, but because of the large numbers of people, they do have a much longer wait.

Anyway, on Monday, Andrew and I had to go to the consulate office to get some papers notarized. Because we got there before it opened, we had to wait outside in the hallway for about 10 minutes. No big deal.

There was one guy ahead of us. He was a tall, beefy American who wore glasses. Once we settled into line, Andrew was on my left and Buffoon (which is what I’m going to call this guy from now on) was on my right.

I knew Buffoon was trouble as soon as I saw him.

“Hey,” he said to me, gesturing with his head toward the long line of Chinese people, “they sit around and talk bad about America and then stand in line for hours waiting to get approval to go there themselves. What do you make of that?”

Uh-oh, I thought. The big “they”!

“Who sits around and talks badly about Americans?” I asked. “Do you know these people?” (Meaning these particular people...the kind-faced older woman in the blue dress who was first in line and the neatly pressed man behind her. I couldn’t imagine either of them talking badly about anyone.)

“No,” he said, “but they’re all the same. Bad-mouthing the U.S. and then wanting to get there as fast as possible.”

“I’ve never heard any Chinese person bad mouth the U.S.,” I said. “And you’re standing here--in China, mind you--bad mouthing the Chinese. Isn’t that the same thing?”

I wanted to punch him in the nose.

Buffoon grumbled. Clearly he hadn’t expected dissent on my part. “Yeah, but no American WANTS to come here.”

I scoffed. “I wanted to come here. My husband wanted to come here. Thousands of Americans want to come. College grads are lining up to come here. Businesses are lining up to start offices here. Thousands of American tourists come here all the time. What are you talking about?”

Buffoon sneered at the folks in the Chinese line.

I made that face I make when I’m pissed and want someone to keep challenging me so that I can really, REALLY tell them what I think. I raise my eyebrows, cock my head to one side, and purse my lips. My heart was racing.

But, remembering where I was, I bit my tongue and turned away. The consulate office is not the place to discuss U.S./ China relations, even on a personal level. And it was clear that no matter how much I talked, Buffoon was not going to change his tune.

But damn I was pissed. I do not like the big  “they” used in any context. I also do not like Americans (or any other citizens of the world) who come China and criticize the country while making butt-loads of money from the business they do here.

Believe me, if you read this blog, you know that I write a lot about the cultural differences between myself and Chinese folks. I write about my frustrations with the language barrier. I make a great deal of fun of myself. But I hope I make it clear to readers that different isn’t bad. Frustration isn’t bad. And that China--in so many ways just a fledgling modern society--is amazing. It’s different...and challenging...and sometimes wildly frustrating...but also amazing.

So here’s what I really wanted to say:

“Screw you, you big fat Buffoon!”