Sven, Sun and is tiger balm the cure for everything?
7th October 2014
The remote clicking mouse or whatever the clicker device is called appears to be the new sliced bread. It is not simply good, it is bloody brilliant. What dams did to rivers, and buckets did to storing water, this little clicking device has revolutionised my classes. By that I don’t mean on the scale of a protest outside Gregg’s against pasty tax, I mean the full-fat shutdown of central Hong Kong. I now have the full roam of class to perform my Powerpoint presentations. The reading of graffiti-laden books, inscribed desks with TF-Boys and EXO, and the strange paper-based Chinese Chequers games are not just in sight. They are under my nose. “Where is teacher John going?” Everywhere. Beware. Stay alert.
Two classes (803 and 804) passed on Monday, both have been on their collective toes. Both attentive and primed. Giddy 804 are a very good class, sharp and witty, they like to jibe at me with “you’re fat…” and then top it off with “…but we’d hug you.” They don’t mean it nastily, it is simply because I am heavy and they’re not used to seeing pudgy, podgy, tubby, portly, stout, chubby, plump, overweight, obese, large, corpulent, chunky, flabby folk like me. Even the quiet students from last semester are now speaking confidently. They are highly competitive so I rig the games and change the rules, not to reward – simply for this class to engage and enjoy it. They learn more with a smile.
Teaching assistants often enter my class to check on discipline. On the whole most classes are controllable. A little rowdy is fine. Too much and I get totalitarian with the team point systems. Every now and then a teaching assistant, like the now departed Alex are so strict they send fear into the heart of the students. On entering a room she’d render a chatterbox super brain who loves to answer questions utterly mute. Not all teachers are mufflers, some dampen the sound levels but not the response frequencies. Others tear a massive rip into the everyday fabric of their class lifestyles and allow me to take the class on a journey. Things, rules mainly, may get broken but for 40 minutes, the class trust me and I trust the class. Here is the review of last class, here’s the warm up game for fun, here’s some content, practice it. Here’s some more content, jabber-jibber-jabber, and here’s a game for the review. What are these words? And, which team are Champions? Job done.
Football isn’t big here. It may be the fact that China hasn’t appeared at a World Cup since 2002 – the only time the team nicknamed Lóng Zhī Duì (Team Dragon) or sometimes The Great Wall made this tournament. Their honours board for the AFC Asian Cup and East Asian Football Championship is pretty sparse too. They did win the Far Eastern Games a few times, prior to it ended around the beginning of World War II. Since then, a country of this size, has punched beneath its weight. Former Manchester City utility player Sūn Jìhǎi is their 8th most capped player with 80 games. He retired from the international scene in 2008. He still plays now, aged 36, at Guìzhōu Rénhé in the Chinese Super League. Outside of China he has the honours of winning the 2001/02 Football League First Division – and scoring against TNS of Welsh Premier League fame.
Eye Eye Yippee Sun Jihai,
Singing Eye Eye Yippee Sun Jihai,
Singing Eye Eye Yippee,
His Dad’s got a chippy,
Eye Eye Yippee Sun Jihai.
So armed with a plethora of Wikipedia-read facts and statistics, I aimed to lose my mainland China football virginity. I managed to persuade Dalian-born (just like Sūn Jìhǎi) Rossi (杨杉 – Yang Shan) to goto the game in Guangzhou. He kindly drove us there, and back. After a day playing pool together, having all meals together and then joining Bryony and Becky’s new house party, I thought Rossi’d be bored tremendously of my company. He seemed as enthusiastic as ever – despite wearing the standard Chinese poker face of expressionless impassive deadpan blankness. At the last minute Murray’s F.C. Kenmicals (real name肖载龙 – Xiao Mount Dragon), the two Brazilians Rogerio Assis Gomes and Marcelo Junior Gomes, Indian player Sidhant Sharma and Eddy O’Neill from Middlesbrough all bailed on us. To be fair, most arranged very last minute holidays to Guilin. Eddy just went on a date.
On arrival, we parked under the football stadium, at 8RMB per hour. We then wandered around looking for a ticket, the official club stall’s cheapest tickets started at 100RMB. Surrounding the stall, and what was to be soon noted as the only stadium entrance, were hundreds of ticket touts. Rossi was not sure of the ticket legitimacy, but we wandered around, haggled, and eventually settled on a ticket each for 25RMB. I brought an official team shirt for 20RMB after haggling with the club shop. I doubt I’ll ever bargain like this at any other football game. Kick off soon approached, the gates opened. After hustling by armed guards, police with sub-machine guns and ultra-hooligan looking fans on their best behaviour, the climb up a steep staircase met a sharp bottleneck left and up a narrow staircase into the floodlit glow of a the main Yuexiushan Stadium bowl. You can’t beat going to real sports games. Whatever your passion, be it rugby (union, league or other), football, cycling, boxing, motor racing, etc., there is romance to be had. The emotions ride high, everything seems fresh and new, or maybe you can switch off and let someone do the work. You can support. You can follow. You can kick every ball in your mind, you can give your all, you can be the difference – or you can relax and enjoy the occasion. There are sights, smells, sometimes tastes, senses and emotions that can be crammed into around 90 minutes that you may not feel in a month or regular week.
Yuexiushan Stadium is a multi-purpose stadium with a small athletics track (limited in lane numbers), some off-field games areas, a massive hotel-looking complex at one end and a very communist looking scoreboard. If Subbuteo’s USSR edition was ever to be made real, this would be it. In 1950, when it opened it would probably be considered modern. Six renovations later, it feels dated. Situated inside the boundaries of the Yue Xiu Park it has a pleasant feel.
The club’s name Fùlì (R&F in English) is short for “Rich” (富) and “Force” (力). The fans like a bit of noise, the away support from Guìzhōu Rénhé totalled around 50 or so fans. Their fans having to travel 1,100km for a Saturday night kick off adds perspective to a possible Plymouth Argyle away game in Carlisle and the 625km between them. Credit to the home fans for applauding their rival fans at the fulltime whistle. The niceties extended into the game also, Sūn Jìhǎi is a national footballing legend and the home fans sang his name every time he had the ball. What he lacks in pace, he makes up for in set-piece crosses, tackling ability and that never-say-never attitude that endeared him to countless Manchester City fans through the years. In his years at Maine Road and the City of Manchester Stadium his name was sung from the rafters for the drive and battle, to some he was the Gerard Wiekens of the Far East.
So, the game was pretty even, the visitors striking the woodwork three times and forcing four good saves. The home side had a good anchor of an engine in Davi, a Brazilian midfielder; Moroccan international striker Abderrazak Hamdallah scored what would be the winner on 31 minutes; Aaron-Samuel Olanare featured having come from Nigeria via Norway; and many players who regular feature for the varied age groups of the national squads of China. For the visitors, Hyuri Henrique, a Brazilian forward; veteran attacker Mike Hanke from Germany; Polish-born midfielder Krzysztof Maczynski; Gyawe Jonas Salley, born of the Ivory Coast but now an Australian national (AFC Champions League Runner-up at Adelaide U****d in 2008) all played their parts. The standard was akin to the third tier of English league football (League One). Throughout the game applause, standing ovations and gentle cheers broke through the drumbeats of groups of fanatics. The game was attended by around 11,712 fans – and at least 1,000 police officers. Not a steward was to be seen. Official pictures can be found here, but beware it is hard to follow.
After the game, a drive back to Dōngguǎn and the Wànjiāng Qū area was completed with a meal of Mǔlì (oysters) soaked in spices and garlic completed a fine day. Lunch that day was had at Murray’s bar, it was steak and good one at that. So, Saturday was rich with force through and through.
A week’s holiday has flown by, mostly spent cycling and relaxing. That and two tiring games of football for Murray’s F.C. It has been needed. My head is still unclear about the future but I am closer to trying to understand the next few steps.
Step 1 today, involved going to the pharmacy to buy something to settle my second outbreak of coldsores (herpes simplex virus). It smells heavily like deepheat/tiger balm – but seems oddly cooling in effect. It wouldn’t surprise me if they treat the recent local outbreak of Dengue Fever with this too – and yes, like Ebola and massive outbreaks, I am a little worried! To quote numerous media sources, “The number of mosquitoes is also said to have increased five-fold.” I’ve had a few more bites than usual lately… it has reached Humen and Dongguan nearby. Time to eat more fruit and stay superfit!
Two failed projectors, the foreigners’ cup and a little apple
13/10/14
I’m a massive fan of music by The Stone Roses, in fact anything of Madchester era music is good on the ears. Since I left Manchester for Aberystwyth University in September 2001, the sense of Manc music has only been heightened. Whenever I am homesick, I look at a few photos of my tribes – and slap on some Oasis, Doves, The Smiths, and now Johnny Marr’s Playland album. My passion for anything Mancunian is as close to nationalism I ever get. That and my love for the few and many who battled for Britain and freedom in World War I and World War II.
Music here in China is varied, there is buckets of pop, just like in the U.K. The current pop song doing the rounds, xiǎopíngguǒ (Little Apple), is infectious. The video is both bizzare, humorous and a tad risqué for Chinese television. It certainly sticks out from endless ballads about love or loss. I might have a crack at the pinyin version. The Kim Jong-Un version counterbalances the Chinese Army recruitment edition.
The lyrics when translated are witty, and also available in pinyin. See below:
| Pinyin | |
| Wǒ zhǒng xià yī kē zhǒngzǐ
zhōngyú zhǎng chūle guǒshí jīntiān shìgè wěidà rìzi zhāi xià xīngxīng sòng gěi nǐ zhuāi xià yuèliàng sòng gěi nǐ ràng tàiyáng měitiān wèi nǐ shēng qǐ biàn chéng làzhú ránshāo zìjǐ zhǐ wéi zhào liàng nǐ bǎ wǒ yīqiè dōu xiàn gěi nǐ zhǐyào nǐ huānxǐ nǐ ràng wǒ měi gè míngtiān dū biàn dé yǒu yìyì shēngmìng suī duǎn ài nǐ yǒngyuǎn, bù! Lí! Bù! Qì! Nǐ shì wǒ de xiǎo ya xiǎo píngguǒ zěnme ài nǐ dōu bù xián duō hóng hóng de xiǎo liǎn er wēnnuǎn wǒ de xīnwō diǎn liàng wǒ shēngmìng de huǒ huǒ huǒ huǒ huǒ huǒ nǐ shì wǒ de xiǎo ya xiǎo píngguǒ jiù xiàng tiānbiān zuìměi de yúnduǒ chūntiān yòu lái dàole huā kāi mǎn shānpō zhǒng xià xīwàng jiù huì shōuhuò cóng bù juédé nǐ tǎoyàn nǐ de yīqiè dōu xǐhuān yǒu nǐ de měitiān dū xīnxiān yǒu nǐ yángguāng gèng cànlàn yǒu nǐ hēiyè bù hēi’àn nǐ shì báiyún wǒ shì lántiān chūntiān hé nǐ mànbù zài shèngkāi de huācóng jiān xiàtiān yèwǎn péi nǐ yīqǐ kàn xīngxīng zhǎyǎn qiūtiān huánghūn yǔ nǐ chángyáng zài jīnsè màitián dōngtiān xuěhuā fēiwǔ yǒu nǐ, gèng! Jiā! Wēn! Nuǎn! Nǐ shì wǒ de xiǎo ya xiǎo píngguǒ zěnme ài nǐ dōu bù xián duō hóng hóng de xiǎo liǎn er wēnnuǎn wǒ de xīnwō diǎn liàng wǒ shēngmìng de huǒ huǒ huǒ huǒ huǒ huǒ nǐ shì wǒ de xiǎo ya xiǎo píngguǒ jiù xiàng tiānbiān zuìměi de yúnduǒ chūntiān yòu lái dàole huā kāi mǎn shānpō zhǒng xià xīwàng jiù huì shōuhuò nǐ shì wǒ de xiǎo ya xiǎo píngguǒ zěnme ài nǐ dōu bù xián duō hóng hóng de xiǎo liǎn er wēnnuǎn wǒ de xīnwō diǎn liàng wǒ shēngmìng de huǒ huǒ huǒ huǒ huǒ huǒ nǐ shì wǒ de xiǎo ya xiǎo píngguǒ jiù xiàng tiānbiān zuìměi de yúnduǒ chūntiān yòu lái dàole huā kāi mǎn shānpō zhǒng xià xīwàng jiù huì shōuhuò |
I planted a seed And finally it bore fruit Today is a great day To pluck the stars and give them to you To pull down the moon and give it to you And let the sun rise for you every day (I would) turn into a candle and burn myself up You are my little, dear little apple I never find you irritating Spring, strolling with you among the blossoming flowers You are my little dear little apple
|
So, in the last 5 days, where you could say a song by The Stone Roses, was desecrated (“I wanna be alone, I wanna, I wanna, I gotta be alone”) what have I done? I’ve not sullied any more popular culture, be that Chinese or Western. Classes began on Wednesday last week (604-607), followed by only two classes on the Thursday (exam for classes 702 and 701 freeing up my hours), and Friday having no classes (again classes in 703, 704, 801, and 802 faced tests). Saturday, designated a working day for one day only was confusing. Prior to the holidays I was told by Cherry that the Thursday timetable shall apply for that date. Easy as pie, four classes: 701, 702, 601 and 602.
The problem with pie is that of you leave it for a while without checking it, it’ll get eaten, melt, go mouldy and on return there won’t be any pie. I arrived at my first class 701 promptly. The problem being so did the maths teacher (who has an amazing comb-over – he is a lovely person too). He pointed for me to go upstairs and gestured we’d swap classes. Or at least that’s what I thought. I went upstairs and the arts teacher was in the other class. Hmmm. Off I trundled to the office for grade 7 teachers. After much nattering with a new teacher, Bonny, who acted very professionally and told me straight, “We’re on Tuesday’s timetable.” Instantly, I panicked. Where should I be now? I looked at my timetable and relaxed, my first class should be 11:20, and not 09:40 as it had been just then. I thanked her, exited and immediately rang Cherry to half a word. Cherry had a class at that time. So, I marched, practically goose-stepped to her office (home of the Grade 6 teachers). In there I was told by all the staff, “Today is Thursday’s timetable.” So much for communication between middle school and primary school. I instantly grabbed my timetable. I should have had 6 classes instead of 4 that day. There were two timetable clashes. I went back to the Grade 7 office. I negotiated that I’d take 5 classes on the basis someone would take class 702. Bonny to her credit took class 702 for me whilst I taught 602 class and we moved two classes around to fit my timetable. The last day of the week is always the hardest. In the afternoon, the students are tired and ready for the weekend (albeit a one day weekend). Homework is pouring from their single desks, the rooms need tidying by the students and their attention is harmonised with that of a squirrel focusing on a tasty nut only. That tasty nut being the weekend, was winning.
Two failed projectors, a dozen over-running games (just to keep the balance in my favour), a fixed draw of 10 apiece (for four teams in one hyper class) and the finishing line was crossed. Rather than head for a beer, home for a nap, some Homeland episodes (they skulked series 4 out quickly).
Bonnie’s birthday (a kindergarten teacher from Marple) was to be a meal that evening. It was hotpot. It would have been rude not to have gone. I went for a little bit. I had a little bit. It was good. Then we tried Liaoxia’s trendy new music bar, Gigg Club. On entering the plush 2-million RMB interior, it was apparent this place would not be cheap. It wasn’t. A badly tuned guitar sat aloft a man squawking very slow Chinese words. It turned out his singing was awful and the words were actually a popular ditty by a lesser known band called The Beatles. Two bottles of Blue Girl, a South Korean lager, later and off home to sleep. Sunday was restless with only pizza and a short rickshaw ride to be seen as doing anything productive.
Today is Monday, classes 603, 803 and 804 await. After last week’s Cup games for Murrays FC (we entered 3 different teams into the 16 team tournament at Soccerworld, we won two group games 2-1 and drew the other 1-1, won the quarter-final 3-1 [Goal! I scored 1], the Semi-final 2-1 and lost in the final 2-1) we enter a much bigger cup on a regional scale [ The Foreigners Cup] tonight. There are group games every Monday for the best part of this month and next. It should be fun.
Zài jiàn!
#82: “Release the Mosquitofish”
21/10/2014
Nǐ hǎo.
This is it, this is a landmark blog post. For this is post 82. People often celebrate the 18th, 21st, 50th, 65th, 75th and 100th of things unspecified. Okay, specifically anniversaries, birthdays and key moments. I think the 10th (a good round number), 16th (That moment), 28th (my date of birth and Uwe’s shirt number), 32nd (there’s a significant Welcome to Manchester reference here somewhere), 42nd (“Answer to The Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything”; 45th (That moment); Lewis Carroll made repeated use of this number in his writings), 74th (Yaya Toure’s Wembley winner in 2011), 82nd (my year of birth), 94th (That moment), and 101st (this being the shadow of 100th and also a good name for an airborne division; Taipai’s 101 building was once the world’s tallest building – and they added a floor above that round number of 100 for a reason; room 101 is of course an Orwellian feature; everybody should love this centred decagonal number.). So, there you have it, a key landmark has passed. Such has been the quality of the previous 81 posts that eventually some exalted and stately words may eventually enter hereon. You are reading words of the past typed in the present and followed by the future. With every bucket of dross, a ray of light may penetrate.
Day 253. Chinese lunar calendar date, month 9, day 28. This is the blog of… okay less of the Patrick Stewart parody (Captain Jean-Luc Picard).
Yesterday’s bombshell has tinged the week ahead with sadness. Meghan, from Eire, whose role was split between Flying Kindergarten and Oxford International Kindergarten, is no more. I mean, she’s not game over, no longer with us, but has scattered into the wind like an Autumnal fruit departing for pastures new. She did a runner Sunday night or Monday morning, is in Hong Kong, and shall not be returning. Oxford International Kindergarten seems cursed for staff at the minute. Nikki is their only foreign teacher – they should have three foreign teachers. On top of that, one of the other foreign teachers has only received a 14 day work permit. This can be resolved but will take both time and effort, and may cost more.
In a week, where I’ve witnessed several wart-looking bite growths on at least a dozen students’ faces, it has been both testing mentally and physically. Last week I played football on Monday, played Wednesday when I should have done a Raheem Sterling and stated I had fatigue. Honestly, a bit of exhaustion needs a good rest. So, with it at the weekend, I did not play football or go cycling. Instead, I made food on Saturday, spent the best part of Sunday watching a gritty drama starring wannabe-Mancunian actor David Morrisey (The Driver) and generally lazed.
Last Monday, gave rise to the new Dongguan Foreigners Football League. Our team Murrays F.C. Smoggies faced Italiano F.C. We triumphed 7-5 in a hard-fought battle. Off the field, the Italian opposition are nice as pie, on it they are snappy little bastards. Think Paul Dickov meets Robbie Savage, has a baby somehow raised by a Japanese Tosa dog and then sent to a nanny not called McPhee but of the reticulated python kind. Our game opened the league and we had photos with several other teams, an opening kick of the tournament etc. It wasn’t bad, typically Chinese in fashion – longwinded and grand, but welcoming.
On to Tuesday, one throbbing calf, a sharp pain in the kneecap and ankles tighter than Yorkshireman’s duck’s rear-end made for an achy day. Naturally, I didn’t learn and opted to play the next day. Talk about lethargic. If it wasn’t for Chinese Werner, who scored with virtually every shot, we’d have lost convincingly. The fact that a new player left after only 10 minutes didn’t help, and brought our 8 man squad down to 7 for a 6-a-side game never helps. In one clearance, that I failed to clear, I managed to take the goalposts down, almost crushing two of my Chinese opponents in the process. So, when asked if I could play Saturday, I said, “No.”
Friday night, I checked out a new Chinese buffet-style self service food restaurant by school. The foods were very good, if not a little too spicy. The next day I awoke late. It felt good. Very good. After teacher Shirley assisted me with trying to get my shoes fixed (the repairers all seemed to be closed). So, this week I’ll attempt xié (shoe) repairs (xiū) on my own. Soon after a few other teachers joined me and assisted in making a banquet of foods. I did the work, they directed me. The chopping of the Chinese Yam (huái shān yào) causing skin irritation during the process! Afterwards, I went set off to Irene’s Bar, watched City hammer Spurs 4-1 with Tim (from New Zealand), Troy (also a Kiwi), Peter (a long exiled Brit, aged 74, but looks 50-ish), and Marcus (Irene’s husband and a Maori). From here, Tim and I left to meet some P.E. Teachers to drink beer at Snow (Xuě) Bar. Mr Hu, Mr Lai Tong Tao, Rita (a science teacher) and one of their friends were waiting. Out came the beer towers, peanuts and a supply of food from the nearby barbecue. The language barrier broke and Tim’s new Chinese name is now Míhóutáo. It was a good night hereafter. Again, Sunday, I slept in. By the evening I’d had a steak lunch at UBC Western Coffee followed by a dinner of nachos and a pork tostado at Munchalots (the new Mexican/Indian fusion restaurant bar).
Last night, Murrays F.C. Smoggies hosted Murray’s F.C. Owls at Soccerworld. The derby game finished 8-2 in our favour. The team we face next week, Brazil F.C. played in a game before our fixture, they faced another all Brazilian outfit and seemed to sweep them aside with ease. Neither side looked ineffectual. Next week’s fixture against them gives the impression of being the toughest fixture we’ll ever face. Still, Altrincham F.C. hold 16 league scalps in F.A. Cup football, for a reason.
During the day yesterday, I had classes with 603 (who finally have a working projector), 803 and 804 (who are polar opposites when it comes to taking part in activities). In class, 804, Anne, one of the brightest English speakers there might as well have the catchphrase, “We know this John. We learnt it in our English written classes.” To which, I say, “Let’s try speaking English more and practice those new words.” The response is always, “I see.” That has happened every single class. The difference from these students being grade 7 and controllable and much more fun – to these monsters going through puberty and the emotional highways and byways of life is highly perceptible. As a rule, few students in this school try to be cool, show off or belittle each other. But, they never ever want to be seen to make mistakes. The face matters greatly. Face, as a sociological concept is massive here. To save face, it is easy to ignore or avoid being seen to make mistakes simply by averting the task in hand. Nobody wants to lose face (shī miàn zi) in a place where it is proper to keep up with the Joneses/fight for face (zheng mianzi). I have to gei mianzi (give face or show respect).
“The term “face” keeps cropping up in our conversation, and it seems such a simple expression that I doubt whether many people give it much thought. Recently, however, we have heard this word on the lips of foreigners too, who seem to be studying it. They find it extremely hard to understand, but believe that “face” is the key to the Chinese spirit and that grasping it will be like grabbing a queue [hairstyle] twenty-four years ago [when wearing a queue was compulsory] – everything else will follow.” (Lu Xun. (1959). “On ‘Face’,” tr. by Yang Xianyi and Gladys Yang, Selected Works of Lu Hsun, 4:129-132. Foreign Language Press.)
As I have typed this, a student who misbehaved has just been punished, he waddled in looking very sorry for himself and waddled to the door. He is now standing behind the open door of my office. This is very unusual. I don’t know what he has done. The two teachers I share my office with, Mr Wan Hei Fae (Chinese Teacher) and Mr Yang Wenbo (Maths Teacher) can’t articulate what the student did. Anyway that’s enough gibbering, I need to crack on with the Halloween plans for next week… I’ll leave on this note: Also as I have typed this a Mosquito has fed on me again – as I splattered it, I noted the white dots on its abdomen as present on the number of public health posters at all schools, residences and even invasive and contoversial Mosquitofish are being deployed . The risk of exploring remote areas is highlighted here.
Zài jiàn.
ACTON28: AGAINST THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC 