With such a strange title, I can see from here readers raise their eyebrows, asking: what is the link between tea brewed in a West African country and noodles from Gansu Province in northwest China? Rest assured. That is a very good question, and one that will soon be answered. But before I do, let me first introduce myself, and my love affair with China.

I am a 29-year-old Senegalese woman who arrived in Beijing in 2014 to join the French team of China Radio International. My work there has been a very meaningful adventure and a rich experience both professionally and socially that continues up to today. As an editor and reporter, we are often given the opportunity to travel inside China to conduct in-depth reports. This is something that many foreign workers here enjoy doing. From one province to another, we can experience different landscapes, traditions and environments.

But enough about me, let's go back to our mysterious title with a little anecdote that brought Dakar in Senegal and Lanzhou in Gansu Province a little bit closer together. In March 2017, I began a five-day trip in Gansu Province. Upon our arrival, our hosts treated us to a lunch in which lamian - the famous hand pulled noodles usually served in a beef or mutton-flavored soup and a symbol of the city of Lanzhou - were quick to appear on the table. Small restaurants serving lamian are a common sight across west China where they have been a staple diet for hundreds of years.

Up to that point, nothing out of the ordinary happened. My ordeal began the moment when people around me started eating the famous noodles. I suddenly found myself in the middle of a jarring symphony of slurppps! Indeed, guests were slurping away loudly all around me. When eating noodles, Lanzhou people are fond of making loud slurping noises. This is a way for them to show their positive appreciation of the food. Seeing my surprise, the guest sitting next to me whispered that I had to play along so as not to appear impolite.

Impolite? I thought to myself that my parents in Senegal would have given me a really hard time if even the idea of turning into a slurping artist with our Thiebou djeun - a Senegalese national dish made from rice and fish - ever crossed my mind. Suddenly, I started sweating, overwhelmed by the fear of not being able to "slurp" well enough to satisfy our hosts!

Chopsticks in hand, I grabbed the lamian, took a big breath and tried to delight my colleagues and hosts by joining the "chorus." All went well, and my attempt was crowned with success, to the sound of their cheers and applause. Ah, if only my father had heard me that day, his piercing gaze would have struck down my frail figure.

But thinking of it, it should not have been a surprise for me to hear lamian playing music as they entered the mouth of my hosts. In Senegal, loudly sipping one's tea (ataya in the Wolof language) after a succulent lunch is also a way to show one's appreciation for the host who prepared it with such love and generosity. Indeed, the louder the noise, the more exquisite the ataya. But I have omitted a detail: I suffer from misophonia! In other words, I am allergic to certain noises.

Alas, unfortunately for me, from Senegalese tea to Chinese lamian, this common point between the two cultures sounds equally terrible to me.

(The author is a journalist from Senegal living in Beijing)