There is one tiny empty table, across the room. With so many sets of eyes upon me, I am conscious of every little movement I make. I am clumsy, gigantic, ungainly. I can feel the disapproval. I stumble between tables, edge between one seatback and another, and only just avoid walking straight into a waitress, who has stopped, her hands full of dishes, to look at me. I almost feel dizzy. I know I have gone beetroot red. When I reach my destination, I want to take a bow, but I resist the temptation, remembering that I am representing a skin colour, a continent, and an entire economic system. Best behaviour is called for. I am Tansy, the west's ambassador to the Random Restaurant of Kunming.