Before I left the States, I meant to print a few photographs to serve as icebreakers with the locals who might not speak much English. Photos of my home and family mostly. And, for the Chinese market, action shots of Yao Ming, the 7’ 5” center for the Houston Rockets.
I don’t follow basketball, but I like Yao Ming. He is a surprise success story, a Chinese national who was last year’s number one NBA draft pick. His performance has exceeded expectations. I like him because he seems affable and because he and I share a common heritage: we were both genetically engineered by government scientists to improve the stock of our respective races.
Anyhow, I ran out of time and never printed the photos. Instead I’ve been toting around a CD-ROM full of useless digital images (and software I need for maintaining this site).
A few days ago, in Qui Nhon, a pleasant if nondescript provincial capital, I passed by a Fuji Digital Imaging Center. Four young technicians hunched over PCs, performing sophisticated manipulations with Adobe Photoshop. The store looked like a high-tech version of the jeweler’s markets, where sweat-soaked men operate foot-pedaled propane torches, melting down gold and other precious metals, setting stones, and touching up delicate filigree.
I asked the technicians if they could print digital images. They directed me to type into an English-to-Vietnamese translation program running on their computers. I briefly consider typing “Hello! Where you from! Are you married! You need taxi!” but instead entered my question in friendly, easily-parsed grammar. The software spat out a translation (presumably something along the lines of “Do you like sniff the fish sauce, nougat?”). The technicians nodded enthusiastically.
When I returned to pick up the prints, I discovered that — surprise! — there had been a slight miscommunication. Rather than make each image into a separate print, the technicians had tiled them together, creating the world’s tackiest and most bizarre postcards: Ma and Pa Stein have their arms around each other; Yao goes up for a monster dunk; Mom clutches the family dog; Yao stuffs a defender.
The prints look like a collage made by a mentally unbalanced Rockets fan. I quite like them, and look forward to putting them on my fridge someday.
