Driving Miss Diva...Mr Zhen's Story

One of the allotments for the assignment in China is a car and a driver.  Depending on your view this could be a perk or a penalty.  No longer do I have the freedom to dart in and out of traffic with my radio blaring and the sunroof open as I scream along to whatever song fits my mood.  But, no longer am I responsible for battling traffic, worrying about speeding tickets, or pumping gas in the rain.
That's all Mr. Zhen's job now. 

Mr Zhen is the local Nanjinger assigned to be my driver. We're currently cruising around town in a bright red Focus hatchback.  He takes his job incredibly seriously, and despite his questionable attachment to his horn, he does a great job.

When I came on my pre-assignment trip, I met a woman who explained that the driver just drives your car.  He's not your chauffer; he is not your errand boy.  He drives you where you need to go, then waits, and drives you back home.

Not Mr. Zhen.  He opens my car door for me everytime I get in.  He makes sure the car sparkles and shines.  And he makes sure I am never late to work, despite my repeated efforts to convince him that it's fine for me to come in after 8:30AM.  On those mornings when I am truly behind schedule, his horn gets an extreme workout.

Mr Zhen is willing to do almost anything for me,  and each day, he baffles me more.  Mr. Zhen has done more to make me happy than my last 5 boyfriends combined.  It's his job.  He quit smoking for me - at least while he's on duty.  I advised him that he would lose his job if he kept smoking.  Now, he keeps a bag of seeds or nuts with him in the car, and he chews a lot of gum.  I've not seen or smelled a cigarette in almost a week.

Unlike most drivers, Mr. Zhen insists on coming grocery shopping with me.  At first, I found it invasive to have someone following me pushing the cart, but he keeps me honest - my closeted eating habits do not allow me to buy chocolate when someone else is pushing the cart!  For him, it has been explained, it is a source of pride - he is with an American woman and he is buying expensive items.  On my first day, we went to Walmart, where I bought cleaning products, an iron, a hair dryer, and a phone.  I was left to carry the cleaning products while he carried the tower of appliances that was tied with a bright red ribbon at the store. 

Mr Zhen and I did not speak for the first 3 days.  Anytime I wanted to go somewhere, he would call the realtor who would translate for us.  Slowly, we devised a system to communicate, and it has been working.  I write down the times I want to see him next, and how many hours I expect to be gone.  He texts me from his phone which translates his words into English for me.  We use my picture dictionary to find the hard things (plastic bags, a fan), and we use the guidebooks/maps to get me close to the bars and restaurants on my list.  It's working.

In addition to pushing my cart, Mr. Zhen has my back at the grocery store.  He handles the produce purchase process (so different from the US), and he makes sure the price is right.  He always makes sure there are bags in the car, and he carries them up to my apartment.  He takes me to out of the way restaurants for the things I want (wonton, dim sum), and he'll even go to the store without me for certain things, like my Starbucks frappucino addiction. 

I adore Mr. Zhen. 

Yesterday, when he picked me up, I showed him my broken shoe.  He said "ok, ok" and I got in the car, and off we went to a store called Auchen.  It's like Meijer or Target, Chinese style.  We got out, and he took my two shoes in his hand, and started off.  We went to the shoe repair section where the woman fixed my buckle for 3 RMB  - the equivalent of $0.40.  When we finished, Mr. Zhen carried my shoes out to the car.  I was not allowed to carry them - it was his job to put his fingers in my heels.  I can't be sure, but I don't think my mother even does that when she's cleaning up the shoe-littered floor! 

Today, though, Mr. Zhen made me teary-eyed twice.  First, he dropped me off at 6:10PM, and he left with a note to pick me up at 18:50 to go to dinner.  At 6:55 he showed up, apologizing for his tardiness (ironic, since I kept him waiting 40 minutes today at work).  He was late because he had gone to buy an English/Chinese dictionary.  He was practicing, "eighteen fifty".  We practiced in English and in Chinese (shi ba;  wu shi).  I was so touched that he would try so hard to make my life easier.  In his country!

When I got into the car after dinner, he handed me a skewer of 3 chicken hearts or livers or something.  I know it was chicken because of the arm flapping he was doing (he so OWNS the Funky Chicken dance!).  I just wasn't sure which internal organ I was about to consume.  I couldn't insult him and not eat, so I pulled, bit and swallowed before my nose and mouth realized what happened. 

I was so touched by his gesture.... I just hope we're not married now...