The secret admirer

Our first full day in China was Sunday, so only a couple of meetings had been scheduled. This was good, as it gave me a chance to visit the Forbidden City, a place that’s been on my ‘bucket list’ for years.

We finished our first meeting about 10 and then Jerry and I set off. To get to there we went by the subway. The first thing I noticed was how clean and spacious everything was – the floors were spotless, the walls shone, the lighting was bright and cheerful. There were not too many people walking around, it was late Sunday morning after all, but when we got on to the train it was quite full.

The second thing I noticed was quiet it was. The seats were full, people were standing and hanging on to the straps, some were talking, but there was none of that incessant noise you hear on the London tube – cell phones ringing, voices raised, people making calls so they can tell someone the urgent news: “I’m on the train.”

As we got off the train I said to Jerry, “well it was crowded but not as bad as I expected”. He looked at me in surprise. “Crowded? That wasn’t crowded, that was nearly empty”. It was my turn to be surprised. I’d hate to be on the subway at rush hour! Apparently there are people who are paid to push people on, so that every little piece of space has a body in it.

As we walked along outside, with the Forbidden City to our left and Tianamen Square to our right, a young lady came up to me and grabbed my arm.

“I want to have my photograph taken with you, OK?” she said, edging me sideways to face her boyfriend. I looked at Jerry, who was starting to laugh.

“OK”, I said, and the boyfriend (and Jerry) took a couple of photographs.

“Thank you”, she giggled, and dashed off.

“What was all that about?” I asked. Jerry grinned and said,

“Oh, you must have reminded her of someone famous.”

I felt pretty good about that. Then he added,

“From her school books. Someone like Marx or Engels”.

I just looked at him, and he laughed again. But later, in the Forbidden City, there were a couple of times when people stopped and pointed at me, and others where people aimed their cellphone cameras right in my face and took my photograph.

So here’s a small contest: who does this photograph remind you of? Answers in an e-mail please!

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# 11 / Who does this remind you of?