oyster28catcher (JRA)

Lucy in the sky with diamonds.

11/04/2017oyster28catcher (JRA)

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

On the Saturday morning (prior to the 30th of March, when I started to write this), I sat down to breakfast with Maria, her mother and mother’s partner (shūshu or uncle, 叔叔). The kitchen was squat, old and wide open to the elements. As I tucked into my chángfěn (intestine noodles/rice noodle roll/ 肠粉), a small flash of brown streaked through the door and behind a cabinet. Seated mother of Maria spotted it too, she screamed, stood up and slammed the door closed. I personally would have kept the door open. In moments, her handbag was gripped alongside an umbrella, she chased the rat around the room, past me as I continued eating. Eventually it was cornered and a swift foot by shūshu ended its life. I spewed in my mouth as its brains squeezed outwards. Surprisingly, I lost my appetite. I did not finish the accompanying tray of noodles.

Whilst the weekend’s breakfast was a grim attitude towards life, it hasd to be said rats carry diseases and they make food dirty. I get why they are looked upon as little more than a hindrance. As recent as 2009, China sporadically reacted to rabies outbreaks with dog culls. Stray populations in cities were also for the grinder.

China has embraced local and international Non-Government Organisations in ways to humanly manage and apply methods to problematic dogs. By 2014, 320 staff were educated in 46 different cities. That has led to neutering and vaccination programmes, with even some cities imposing laws on abandoning or absing our four-legged friends. Charities to house stray dogs have appeared – and some are even government funded. The adoption programmed generally feature education. Coupled with media attention to dog meat festivals, animal rights have been a focus of media debates and issues. Conversation is growing. This is a fantastically non-political debate and one that may cause divide. Should we eat an animal that goes woof? Action has followed. Mindsets are opening up to debate about animal rights more and more. As each Yulin Dog Meat Festival has approached since 2014, I have seen more and more media exposure. Welfare groups, and groups of volunteers have brought this to the attention of the authorities. Some have rescued canines and felines. When people push the law to enforce the rules, this is a sure sign of positive action.

Since I moved to Houjie in 2014, I have seen the number of dog owners go from roughly, very, very few – where I would see a dog maybe once a week – to encountering dogs at breakfast, lunch and dinner, without having to go to a restaurant! They are everywhere, small terriers up to St Bernards and Border Collies. Even Yorkshire Terriers have found their way far east of East Riding. Even papers have been written in university and International Animal Law Conferences. Times have changed for dog owners here and there. Poodles, huskies, Labradors, are perfectly aligned to those who once had simpler Pomeranians, Papillons, or mixed mutts.

Dog genetics indicate that ownership started in Asia. There is far higher diversity in the gene pool. Pugs, for example, made homes in the time of Confucius, alongside the Chinese imperial household. Nobody else was allowed that little ugly doggy. Recently shepherding and security jobs have been assigned to hounds.

In Beijing, there is a strict rule, 一犬一户 (Yī quǎn yī hù – One Dog, One Household) on pooches. To Stephen King lovers’ delight, the capital city even houses a pet cemetery at Baifu. Each plot will leave your pocket around 20,000RMB lighter. But what does that matter if you invest in doggy fashion. Every pooch needs gloves, hat and a scarf in temperatures as low as 10°C right?

Over the years, I have had many pets. My dog Pup was accompanied by several Yorkshire Terriers, Nomaz, Suzie and West Highland Terrier by the name of Snowy. Pup being pure-breed mongrel, was part Labrador, Rottweiler and Kangaroo. Having looked after Charlie, a neighbour’s German Shepherd for many a year,

In the feline world, I was raised with Basil (like Jess, from Postman Pat, a black and white cat). Then there was Sparky and Tigger. Others have joined for shorter periods of time, due to Sparky not being neutered and the kittens being rehomed.

In the world of hamsters, Bright Eyes (a Syrian hamster – why does no one complain about this batch of furry pet shop refugees coming over to the U.K. taking the roles of mice!?), Stripe and Gizmo (Russian hamsters – have rodents had a Cold War?) )amongst other rescue hamsters and a whole clan of show mice.

Then, there was S.A.R.A.H. (Swift Arachnid Revenge Assassin Hybrid), a Chilean Rose tarantula.

Oh, and the Stick family, Indian Stick Insects. A skinny bunch. Pets are a wonderful way to embrace our complex world.

[The above is where I finished off on the 30th of March. I will not touch it again]

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

March on.

21/03/2017oyster28catcher (JRA)

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

The frequency may have been reduced to one post every blue moon, but that doesn’t mean I don’t write anymore – of for that matter want to write nothing more. I have just been busy. Like a pretty busy bee, but taller, even if I do bumble just as much.

My right knee had some minor reconstruction to reduce a strained tendon and a knotted ligament. It is recovering. As such I haven’t played football for a while and will continue to avoid contact sport and cycling for at least three weeks. I am permitted to do none-impact sport. Cycling fits into that category, but on the roads around here, I will not be taking that chance. Instead all my stretches and physical activity is confined to indoors, like making cheesecakes and cooking tuna with pasta. That kind of thing.

School has been ticking over and classes have passed by as always. Some are great, others so, so. I always try to add a new zest each week. In one class, it works, then I try it through the other classes of the same grade. I’d say 1 in 7 classes enjoy it and it works very well. Class 503 (by far the noisiest and most disruptive class I have ever encountered) tear all plans to shreds. I don’t have teaching assistants in class, and seldom require them. The gremlins of class 503 need it. I ask. I bed. I plead. I demand. I explain the futility of trying to teach that class. I get mostly empty promises by Teacher Jack Armstrong that he will attend and observe. In fact, of the six classes, Jack attended two of them, and the students were amazing. A real life-affirming wow factor was felt. The competition levels shot up high to the sky and a positive perfunctory response to all tasks was had. Then, the week after the ruins of a conquered castle reappeared. I find some grade 8 classes to be a challenge, but this class in grade 5, are nemesis-like. They are all very smart but collectively they want the ship to sink. I shouldn’t get too worked up, because after all they are kids. Mostly aged 9 to 11!

Where have I been of late? Let me think. Shenzhen, twice, in two days. Mostly Dongcheng and Hengli. Not really, anywhere that can be considered exciting. I haven’t watched any music, seen any shows, or attended anything dramatic. But, life has been beautifully wonderful, on the whole. I think. Food has been had many times in Dalang and great sushi moments in Hengli. My City hat has been found safe and well, and wil be collected this weekend from Sam at Winner’s Bar (sadly, soon to close) in Hengli. The hat has a lot of sentiment. It is the third time I have lost it and t has returned. Granny Ivy gave me the hat a birthday gift once. There is also a City ski hat soon after with the same retro style crest. Although I can’t wear that hat in this heat!

HubHao writing has been continuing. But, even that is less so than usual. I guess the month in Nepal during January slowed up the writing. But, here are some pieces yet to be mentioned on this blog.

A Taste of Nepal

The written piece to accompany the Photographic Taste of Nepal.

Bar Review – Ziggy’s DG

In Bar Review – Ziggy’s DG, John Acton enters a world of great beer good food, billiards, darts, and KTV. One sentence reviews would say, “Any bar…

Didi or Didi not?

Didi Chuxing, having recently acquired Uber’s Chinese venture, has announced an English smartphone application in on its way. The monopolist taxi arranging service…

A Photographic Taste of Nepal

Writer John Acton’s piece from February is accompanied by his photographs. He allowed HubHao a taste if the experience. Here are his favourite shots… The first…

Revolution @ One For The Road

Revolution is such a powerful word. Moving away from the political connotations of the word, I can mean a swift movement in cycling. Revolution, the band, in Dongguan…

Is March the bluest of blue months? It has been mostly grey of sky, devoid of spring flowers and greenery with the odd patch of dullness. I am fairly certain that every relationship I have broken up from, was in March. I also know March to be the time I felt the lowest back in the U.K. The seasonal affective disorder thingy would always be mentioned in the news and the Spring Equinox (it happened yesterday) barely mentioned. In the Premier League, it can prove to be make or break time, and as City sit 12 points adrift of Chelsea with ten games remaining, you’d be forgiven for not believing in a late title charge. If City deliever 30 points from 30, even then it is asking much for Chelsea to lose 4 games or draw much more! Still there is the Champions League League Cup F.A. Cup semi-final to go for! C’mon City! March on!

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Trust me, I am a professional?

28/02/2017oyster28catcher (JRA)

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Trust. A small word with big implications. Do you trust every decision you have made? Do you trust those that you have allowed close to your heart? Do you trust you have learnt from your mistakes? Do you trust in your own ability and those that you work with? How much trust given is too much? Have you received so much trust from someone special? By its own definition, trust is placing a firm belief in someone or something. Believing that truth, strength, reliability, or ability is to be found within someone (or something). Having confidence assists with assurance, belief and gives conviction to certainty. Reliance in a faith. All mistrusts, doubts and distrusts should evaporate. Rely on, depend upon, bank on and be sure of someone or something. Earning trust and respect works both ways. I hope to prove myself in as many ways as possible.

The problem with trust, is that is heavily influenced by the past. By mistakes of your own causing, or that of others. Where security should stand, the pathways are locked hand in hand with experiences of negativity. They prise away at what should be a smooth journey of sailing, offering strong Atlantic winds in shallow waters lined with crooked-edged rocks waiting to swallow you whole. No matter what you feel, you either must give your all, or hold back. If you hold back, does that make the plant of insecurity grow? Or, does it allow you to make an informed decision? Only time can tell. Give your all, or give as much as you can. Trust works both ways. Trust can be both a lesson and a response.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Kathmandu – a gateway to…

21/02/201716/05/2021oyster28catcher (JRA)

I landed at Kathmandu’s airport expecting a lift as arranged with my pre-booked hotel. It never came. I tried calling the Parawar Hotel via the phone number provided on the Booking.com website. o joy. Swarmed by taxi-drivers expecting an easy fare, I eventually fell under the waves of the sharks and opted to get a taxi myself. 700NPR to the centre of Thamel, Kathmandu later and we could not find the address or Parawar Hotel. After 20 minutes of walking around aimlessly I stumbled on Horizon Hotel, as recommended by John and Will. I immediately bumped into them, like an awkward unintended stalker. I checked in. The staff of Horizon Hotel were supremely friendly, helpful and bowed to my every need without question. They went out of ther way. The showers were lovely and warm. The rooms cosy and a balcony felt most luxorious. The garden was green and warming. I enjoyed a bowl of cornflakes outside and many cups of tea. A large bag of laundry was done for 210NPR. I had a lift to the airport arranged and used the hotel’s computers to print my flight tickets. If I return to Nepal, I will book this place in advance.

That evening we went for food at the Kathmandu Steak House Restaurant. It was good, the cocktails aren’t perfect but the Everest beer wasn’t bad. I recommend the steak selections, there are many to choose from. Later that evening I grabbed some water on the way back. During the night I was sat on the toilet, almost every five minutes for hours on end. Time and time again. I drank more water, discarding the bottle purchased the night before. It looked like a re-sealed bottle with bits in the water. I hadn’t noticed. Tuesday the 24th of January was written off. Two small pieces of banana cake and a litre of pure orange juice made up my evening’s dinner.

The afternoon and morning of the 25th involved wandering on a private tour of inner-city Kathmandu, shown by Surnesh, paying only in food and provisions for his young family. It was most friendly and cooperative. I ate a Mexican breakfast at Northfield Cafe and even at dinner struggled to tackle the aubergine dish, as Will ate is Burger blend and John a delightful looking Thai curry at Frens.

Frens has an outside location that is quaint, warm and the staff are friendly. The food is good. The starters, mains of aubergine went down well. The Gurkha beer wasn’t bad.

My second breakfast in the city was at Northfield Cafe because quite-frankly the food was good. On entering Northfield Cafe, I was tended to, given a good seat and told to relax. I was guided to a seat beneath a patio window, I was told it was warm. It was. The sun shone above but not in my eyes. I was presented the menu and shocked to see such variety, many Mexican style breakfasts and simpler choices sat there. I ordered. In fact, I returned for two more breakfasts and one evening meal with live music from a band called Samundra, playing the wonderful Sarangi (think Erhu meets violin).

I visited three temples: Swayambhunath, Pashupatinath Temple (Lord Shiva), and Boudhanath.

I visited Swayambhunath, having strolled from Thamel on foot. After exiting the dusty streets beneath, the climb between giant Buddha statues was wonderful. A step for every day of the year led past the 200NPR entrance fee booth. I paid as a Rhesus macaque pair dashed over my feet, keen to get up the top few steps before me, no doubt. At the top of the steps, I turned left, through the stalls of shiny and plasticy things for sale. From this I met a man, who I figured worked in a store, but expected nothing and he shown me each point one by one. I explained I did not want nor did I need a guide. I had read much on the temple in advance. That said, he was blooming informative, very much like the Vajra thunderbolt scepter, he stood out. His crooked few teeth and big bold eyes, friendly and inviting. He explained how the valley was once a huge lake and Swayambhunath self-created into a central lotus. He was impressed by my knowledge and thanked me for not just calling it the “monkey temple.” I did comment how wonderful it was to see monkeys and man co-existing. He introduced me to a pair of friendly monkeys, from the 1500 that occupy the area. He said these particular two monkeys were young and kept coming to him to look at him. I said, with no disrespect, that they liely saw comfort in his facial shape. He had a monkey-shaped face. I said I think this is a kind and caring blessing by nature. He laughed. I don’t think he took offence. We carried on our tour, the tour I hadn’t booked.

Some of the temple looked rough, following lightning strikes in 2011 and the April 2015 earthquake. As I toured renovation work was under way at almost every quarter. The stories of a collapsed monastery on that site, were sad to hear and the rubble still visible.

Used by both Hindus and Buddhists, this site is truly wonderful. The domed peaked stupa is cubical in places, has Buddha’s eyes looking in four directions. Torans, shaped perhaps pentagonal, carry massive statues and engravings. Thirteen tiers stand behind these and a Gajur above that. The details on all are mind-blowing. Pure enlightenment in Buddhist symbolism and deep detail. All around the main stupa there are temples, such as the Ajima Temple, and more prayer wheels than I thought was possible to construct. For me this was a proud feature in the Kathmandu Valley World Heritage site. I’m not religious but I could feel the special and sacred connection of man with belief here. It didn’t carry any pressure, just like my impromptu tour guide. I visited his stall after my tour, on my own accord. I invested in two artworks as gifts for friends.

Dr. Strange was filmed in many locations all over Kathmandu such as these three temples. I was lucky enough to see a fan dressing up as the title figure of the movie, Graphic Novels, showing even Marvel movies etc can inspire the odd person to travel and see sights from flicks. This will be most beneficial to Nepal where tourism, especially ecotourism, can booster a country in need of the world’s support. Geek Pride!

I hated the tourist experience of Pashupatinath Temple. As much as I respect the religious aspect, 1000NPR for that experience (or should I say inexperience?) was steeper than the Himalayas. I saw little. Non-Hindus are not permitted in most parts. In fact even western-Hindus are not permitted in many parts. Without clear signage, expect to walk beyond the boundaries and get shouted at. It is embarrassing and shameful. If you open your doors to guests, be clear. I was massively curious and ultimately disappointed. I’m not religious and this was the equivalent of opening a Christmas present, only to lose the ability of eyes, hands and ears to know what the gift was. Also, for the whole of the paid experience, I was tailed by several beggars. I did not enjoy it.

For lunch that day, I opted for Fire and Ice Pizzeria. It was worth a try for lunch. Good portions, amazing homemade crisps and a good side salad with my panini. The gnocchi was also very good, but lacked flavour even though I opted for butter and herbs.

Having read good reviews about Blueberry Kitchen & Coffee Shop, I decided to treat John & Will from Australia. They were flying out that day and had been most hospitable and welcoming throughout my month’s trek in Nepal. We enjoyed the breakfasts, I opted for Eggs Benedict with a great Hollandaise Sauce. It was probably the best breakfast I have eaten in Asia, including Hong Kong and many good western restaurants. Full on two great cappucinos and the main breakfast, I bid farewell and promised to write a fine review on TripAdvisor.

If walking in Thamel, firstly, try to use landmarks based on say fish for sale, signs that are unique, names that stand out. Secondly, enjoy it, push away buskers and hawkers politely. You must be mindful of pickpockets and scams but relax as much as possible. The streets weave here and there and seem to lack roadsigns or names. There are shops, cafes, bars tour operators galore. Actually, almost every alleyway masks the odd tucked away temple, with doors far shorter than the people – ghosts cannot bend, so cannot enter.

With a rucksack, now almost empty, I went gift-shopping, opting for several pieces at a shop called Beni, a recycling cooperative that handcrafts items. Beni Ghale and her team collect rubbish from the streets, old rice bags, and bike inner tubes to create something fashionable. Mostly functional too. The money goes to providing work for women in need and raising environmental awareness. They even many sanitary pads from natural materials.

Throughout my journey I had learnt much. Scenery, history, culture, and adventure had formed one delightfully exquisite and awe-inspiring view of Nepal. There were days, I witnessed the underprivileged of the country, the fragilities of a country emerging from political instability and rising from the ashes of two tremendously devastating earthquakes, but the experience remained eye-opening in many ways. My batteries of inspiration are charged to full.

Sagamartha: Realm of wonders

21/02/201716/05/2021oyster28catcher (JRA)

The next morning, I felt energised, I practically skipped back enjoying the wonderful views and stopping more frequent to take it all in. Wonderful. At Khayangjuma I stopped at Three Sisters Lodge for lunch and enjoyed talking with the owner. I bid my farewell and strolled on into the nearby Namche Bazaar. After a struggle finding lodgings, avoiding the Yak Hotel of my previous visit, I found the Kala Patthar Lodge. I checked in. No hot showers due to frozen pipes. I had only showered in Jiri, Sete and Bupsa Danda by that time. 15 days, 3 showers. They did however provide me with a bucket full of hot water. It was bliss. I felt clean again. That evening I talked with two Australian ladies hiking up the trail. I also invested in a new book. I ploughed through Jon Krakauer’s book, Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster, inside 24 hours. A very good read.

My hotel didn’t have a recharge point for my phone. I opted for a cappucino, cake and a pot of black tea. The afternoon disappeared pretty fast in Sherpa Barista Bakery. I enjoyed plush leather seats and my book. I was the only customer and the two staff present were very welcoming.

I ate at Cafe de 8848 once and enjoyed good teas alongside wifi access for free. They show the Sherpa movie daily at 3pm. Well worth a gander. Very revealing movie. Lovely views from the balcony bar.

I clambered from my lodge up the pathway to Everest Base Camp. This time I opted for a lefthand spur, towards Khumjung.

Rising over the ridge, the land flattened, a plateau of sorts, with the odd boulder. The cargo airport, Syangboche (3750m/12,303ft) stood to my left. A Russian helicopter, lacking beauty in design, unloaded wood and busy Rai porters dashed back and forwards. Two red-beaked choughs dug soil and fed in the foreground.

I passed along a field resembling a golf course green and approached the Japanese-owned Everest View Hotel (http://www.hoteleverestview.com/). Part James Bond baddy lair, and part paradise, this hotel is state of the art. In 2004, the Guinness Book of World Records listed it as the Highest Placed Hotel in the world. The blurb online says, “With a view of Mt. Everest from every room, visitors can immerse in this mesmerizing scene in luxury.” That is impressive. I had a milky tea and steak sandwich, taking in the view. It truly is an astonishing location with superior unmatchable panoramic views of the region.

The monastery in Khumjung (3780m) was undergoing a refurbishment. The supposed yeti skull inside was not on public showing. My inner skeptic grew. Over the valley floor from the monastery, the Khumjung school was built by Sir Edmund Hillary’s Himalayan Trust in 1961 stood closed. 350 students share the limited classroom space from pre-school to secondary school. Some have gone on to university and studies overseas. The stone-walled village sits at the base of Mount Khumbu Yül-Lha. This 5761m tall mountain has never been summitted. Said to be a god, it is a fiercesome looking sharp and dry looking gargantuan crag. Bamboo spikes stand festooned in prayer flags honouring the overlooking god.

I trekked on towards Khunde (3840m). Sign posts pointed me to the Khunde Hospital (founded in 1966 by Sir Edmund Hillary) and the Sir Edmund Hillary view-point. From here I went rock-scrambling down the valley into Phurte before hiking back to Namche Bazaar. Red and blue Himalayan pheasants, vultures, eagles, Himalayan Tahrs and a possible leopard footprint added much nature to a wonderful walk.

I entered Namche Bazaar’s horseshoe-shaped bowl from the western ridge, having climbed from the north-eastern ridge. The masses of mani stones, prayer flags and fading light made for a very spiritually powerful twilight. The following day I read several books and relaxed all day. I chatted with a convalescence group of trekkers. Eight trekkers had fell ill on various stages between Namche Bazaar and Everest Base Camp. Their guide group had sent them back with one porter to spend a few nights at Namche Bazaar’s Kala Patthar Lodge. A Bulgarian, a Costa Rican, a Newzealander and an Australian went into a bar… it was a very international.

With my flight booked from Lukla to Kathmandu for the morning of 23rd, I opted to try and hike the full path to Lukla the morning of the 21st. I managed as far as Thadokoshi, and chose the Everest Summitter Lodge, ran by a Sherpa family. I felt sick on arrival but put it down to hunger, I had skipped lunch, trying to make Lukla in one day. Two days hike in one day was optimistic at best. It would have taken nine solid hours trekking. I was an hour shy as dusk set in. Bunking down was a good idea. I needed food. I ordered food. Spaghetti with cheese and tomato sounded simple. Before the food arrived, I went to the toilet, and vomited several times. Very odd, I just felt tired. Nothing else. I washed my face and returned to the dining lounge. I drank some black tea and tentavily probed the food. I ate a few pieces. I could eat no more. I went to bed at 7 o’clock, devoid of hunger. The middlest of family’s three boys had been in the lodge playing domino-rally with business cards. Entertained in a world where toys are marketed and sold with aggression, by something so simple. He looked happy. I felt guilty of the days when I begged my Mum for the lastest Lego sets or Ghostbusters figures. In talking to him, I learnt he was nine year’s old. In Nepal, children often lose school before they are teenagers. His younger brother slammed a glass window shut and opened it again. He repeated this until it became white noise. Their oldest brother was 15 year’s old. A porter, lifting anything from the airport to whereever it was required.

After a breakfast of porridge, I left Thadokoshi for Lukla. At Lukla, I lodged at Lukla Lodge. I had lunch in the lodge, Yak steak, then explored the village. I stopped at Starbucks Lukla. It was a rip-off branded coffeeshop with a delightful sunroom and a vast array of birdwatching books. I slumped into the leather sofa there and enjoyed a very good cappucino.

I walked around the Sagarmāthā National Park conservation office, eyes on a path marked Red Panda area. Glancing back at Lukla’s Tenzing-Hillary Airport below. The short and steep airstrip’s tarmac twinkled in the intense afternoon sunlight. It had held the title of Most Extreme Airport for around twenty years. The 11.7% gradient, and dimensions of 527m (1,729 ft) × 30m (98 ft) and drop into a valley below at the southern runway end. The northern end being a mountain wall.

Friendship Youth Club F.C.’s field had to be explored. I left a bunch of Shenzhen Blues bags, badges and stickers there, with my SZB t-shirt. I donated all but a few of my clothes, supplies and boots to a Sherpa trust charity, figuring the materials will be of more use to local people than me in the sub-tropics of Guangdong. Later in the afternoon, John and Will rolled in from their trek, having reached Kala Patthar and Everest Base Camp a few days after we last me. Fair play to them! Their flight was scheduled 30 minutes after mine.

Tara, in Nepali means green goddess, in Hindi it means star, in Catalan or Italian it means defect, in Gaelic it means queen and in Welsh it means goodbye. Flight TA144 sounded a tad omnious for me.

I boarded the Twin Otter on the side area of the runway. Two flights had already departed. Those planes, a Dornier Do 228 and a Let 410, had looked much more modern. My aircraft had a more rustic feel. I guess with 22 aircraft split between 5 domestic airlines, not counting Nepal Airlines, choices are few and far between. Tara airlines have a history of crashes, 4 in less than 6 years. Two of their eight fleet are no more, and sadly 45 people perished in two serious crashes.

Everest rest restaurant

21/02/201716/05/2021oyster28catcher (JRA)

Dropping down the valley to Deboche (3820m), passing a newly built lodge called Rivendell, drifting through low moss-cloaked trees, a plain to the left opened, beyond clumsily-stacked Mani stones. Inside a sign advised of a nunnery. It looked far poorer and less well-maintained than the monk’s residence at Tengboche Monastery. Perhaps this is a clear sign of inequality? The sign Parque del Retiro giving hints it was a home for those of later years?

After Milingga hamlet, I branched up the upper pathway into Upper Pangboche. I’d caught up with John and Will and they opted for the lower road into Lower Pangboche. My pathway swept amongst small Gompa after Gompa and Mani Stone walls, eventually reaching the village of Upper Pangboche (3985m). I passed around the walls of a square monastery, reported to hold a Yeti skull. I wasn’t allowed beyond the hall containing chanting and drumming, standing there admiring haunting sounds, “Oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ…” (唵嘛呢叭咪吽). The very same phrase being inscribed into Mani stones, prayer wheels, prayer flag streamers,

I passed Pangboche school as built by Sir Edmund Hillary’s Himalayan Trust in 1963. It stands at 4000m above sea level. Beyond this my path converged with the lower Pangboche pathway at Shomare village. I stopped for Sherpa stew and a sandwich, watching Will and John pass by on the lower pathway. Satisfied with my tomato sandwich, I trundled onwards. Next up, Worshyo, and into the broad and high-mountain surrounded Imja Valley. Rock falls and landslides marking almost barren terrain beneath the imposing beauty of Ama Dablam’s western and northern faces. Through huge empty plains and between mounds of loose rocks, over dirt trails and down a steep crevice, I crossed a bridge. Upwardly, the path became substantially drier and dustier. At the top of a valley-hugging path, the pathway cut inwards amongst debris of many mountains and their violent histories.

In the village of Dingboche, many lodges lined a stone-wall lane as wide as a car, yet without cars possible. Oh, and covered in thick ice. Exposed to the elements and at some stage flooded by flowing water, it marked a slippery pathway through a town. Thankfully the odd rock and patch of barren embankment stood out beneath the neatly placed stone walls (built after farmers simply removed obstacles to ploughing their fields). I walked through the village, noting most lodges as closed. After ten minutes, I heard my name; John and Will had opted for the Solukhumbu Lodge. I greeted them and met the owner, a Khambu Rai, a people from the Sikkim and Darjeeling Hills. He welcomed me and shown me to a plywood room. By now I was used to these sorts of basic rooms. The only luxury was a light switch. I rolled my sleeping bags out, prepared my torch and laid out clothes for the next day. It was only five o’clock in the evening, yet when night came in; light would be limited and the desire to get to sleep early, strong. Almost every night so far had ended in bed by 8 or 9 o’clock at night.

Sat eating pork curry, around a Yak-shit powered stove, with the Solukhumbu Lodge owner answering questions in a kind of politely curious interview of new acquaintances it felt cosy despite extreme cold lapping at the single-glazed windows. He told us how two men, porters, lugged and regularly lugs the slate base of snooker tables from Namche Bazaar (two days hike away). Each porter takes ten minute stints to lift the 150kg load before passing the load onwards. They rotate time and time again. 22km of carrying 150kg between two souls sounds as tortuous as climbing Everest’s peak itself! A sign had boasted “world’s highest billiard hall.” I hadn’t doubted that. They would earn 50NPR per kilogram for every item they lugged from Namche Bazaar to Dingboche. That was the standard rate.

The mule trains are only permitted as far as Namche Bazaar. Some yaks are okay here after, but not so many. Porters, human labour, make the bulk of anything. I ordered a Coca-Cola, priced 200NPR above the manufacturer’s recommended price. To pay five times as much, here, seemed justified. I’d seen people carrying crates of beers, boxes of Red Bull energy drinks, gallons of bottled water. If it was packaged or meat, it came from lower down the valley. Our pork curry’s meat came from a village south of Lukla, where the lodge owner’s family had moved from. They sought the busier tourist routes for their living, renting a lodge for the year and living off the income. His wife, two year’s younger than him, aged 27, sat on one side, breastfeeding their tiny chubby baby, massively-wrapped up in a down jacket and down trousers. The nearest school was Pangboche, 10km away, but they intended to raise their kid until old enough to be taught in Kathmandu, like most kids on the region. The Yak-shit oven crackled as the owner slid the lid open, dropping on dried yak turds. The lower oxygen levels make burning yak pooh quite difficult. It isn’t actually that flammable. Wood fires are not permitted, as they destroy forests – also at this altitude, trees are not present. Following a good natter, I retired to bed, with a 3L thermal flask of ginger tea.

I entered my room. It was freezing. Way below zero. Ice had formed on a sweat-lined ski hat I had left by my bed earlier. I dived into my sleeping bag, pulled up the zip high, placing an extra blanket in the room over my body. I wore my dust-mask and spare ski hat to sleep. Gloves on.

I have never had such a restless sleep. I needed to water the plants too often. I had an unquenchable thirst. Headaches squeezed my skull and seemed to strangle my thoughts. At 9 o’clock in the morning I took some paracetamol. I napped until noon. On entering the lounge dining area, warm sunlight beat through the window panes. John and Will had finished their breakfast and were playing backgammon. They were heading for an acclimatisation walk up to Chhukhung. I was not. My head, as much as I wanted to wander, was not right. My ears hurt, my nose and sinuses seemed clogged and unclearable. If I lay my head flat it felt much more painful.

Had I allowed my body time to adjust to reduced oxygen and changes in air pressure? I thought hiking from Jiri and two nights in Namche Bazaar was enough, having read numerous accounts and heard many pieces of advice. Above sea level, altitude sickness can occur at heights over about 2,500m (8,000 feet). The affects are mild usually. In the severe form, anything above 3,600m (about 12,000 feet) is possible. At 5000m, oxygen is at 50% of the level as found at sea level. I was warned that a loss of appetite and shortness of breath were warning signs. I had neither. I did have a feeling of unsteadiness and like I was going to vomit. But, it wasn’t so bad. I decided to rest. The dizziness of the morning swept away. I read a book and enjoyed the warm dining room, napping on the late afternoon to be awoken by the owner knocking on my door. It was almost seven o’clock when I awoke. I ordered spaghetti and tomato sauce.

The next day was not as bad. My head hurt a little and I would classify myself as having “reduced performance and coordination.” I packed my bag, brushing the thick curtain over the window, “Well, I’ll be damned!” I cursed out loud, to nobody. Two nights of sleep, with the window open. The outside extreme weather had been cuddling my breathing at night. Keeping me company, keeping me dehydrated.

With a slight freshness to my mind, I set off for Lobuche (4410m), determining I could make it. I would be okay. The cold harsh peak of Taboche loomed to my left. I thought, I could turn around if I did not feel better. Armed with excessive flatulation (I later learnt this to be a sign of altitude sickness), I soldiered on. And laboured. Really laboured. Sweating profusely in cold is not comfortable. Sweat freezes fast. I checked my hands for swelling. None. My feet were okay that morning, but now they felt unusually warm. Sudden fatigue, a wave of weakness, swept over my body at Dughla (Thukla). Standing at 4620 metres, my mind argued with itself. Go on? Turn around? The mountain pass suddenly felt a million miles away from life. A small hutted hamlet with little attraction. It was a place to pass through and not stay for more than a night’s sleep. I checked my pulse. It was rapid. Persistently rapid. My breathing had quickened and finding my resting level was proving difficult. In my lightheaded state, I heard the thud of a struggling helicopter coming from towards Gorak Shep. Another rescue helicopter. The fourth, I had seen that day. I was around ten kilometres from Kala Patthar and Everest Base Camp.

I decided to turn around. It was emotional. A really, really tough decision. I didn’t want my minor altitude sickness to become the reason for death by high altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE) or high altitude cerebral edema (HACE) or Monge’s disease. Kala Patthar would have to wait. My nausea was close to that of wishing to vomit. I hate the feeling of wanting to be sick, but being unable to trigger a splurge. I could feel paresthesia, pins and needles. My body needed more oxygen. Welcome to the world malaise. I about turned. Passing through Nauma, Pheriche, Jamdang, Somsobuk, and Orsho, the path along the Pheriche Pass went almost unnoticed. As I approached Lower Pangboche (3930m), I watched as a helicopter landed, collected a man clutching an oxygen-cylinder on a medical stretcher. Only now, did I feel I made the right choice. Turning around was probably the wisest move of my life. If I didn’t think of loved ones and friends, I probably would have pushed myself. Too far. Having dropped from 4620m to 3860m at Tengboche, I could feel myself relax. The headaches lifted. I lodged once again at the welcoming Tashi Delak lodge. The log stove burnt well, filling a small area with heat and allowing for comforting conversation with Rai and Sherpa porters gathered alongside me. A group of Taiwanese hikers had aimed to go to Everest Base Camp but fell ill at Pangboche. They sat reasonably quietly, immersed in their glowing mobile phone screens. After a large meal of a yak burger, cheese spring rolls and potato chips, I slipped into my sleeping bag. I slept like a baby. All altitude sickness had gone.

Edmund Hilary, “Being comfortable at being uncomfortable.”

21/02/201716/05/2021oyster28catcher (JRA)

The lodge in Jorsalle’s dining room was long and rectangular. Freshly polished wood and paintwork leapt out at the eyes. In the centre at the foot of the dining room, a Buddhist monk sat. He sat all dressed in a maroon robe, and hat. An extra scarf and gloves, all maroon added to his complete maroon outfit.

The bedroom was ample and surprisingly spacious with a quaint window frame offering views of the river beneath. A solitary light switch again being the only technological advancement on offer. I didn’t mind.

After a short climb, fuelled by apple porridge, to Larja Dobham (2830m), I crossed a huge sweeping suspension bridge festooned by Buddhist prayer flags. Up the valley, snow-capped peaks of Lhotse and Sagarmatha towered above bands of yellow on brown sedimentary cliff faces. Sagarmatha is the Nepali name for the once named Peak XV. Deodungha is one of many local names, like Qomolangma (Tibetan name). Most mean “holy mother mountain” or in Chinese, Zhūmùlǎngmǎ Fēng (珠穆朗玛峰). Sadly, some British folk, around 1857, decided to name the peak after a Welsh surveyor Sir George Everest, who actually objected to his name being used. It cannot be pronounced with ease by many native Hindi speakers of Nepal and nor could it be written. The name stuck. In fact, nobody pronounces Everest properly; it should be EEV-rist /ˈiːvrᵻst/ and not /ɛvᵊrᵻst/! This was the beauty of the English language evolution in action.

Clambering up a staircase of boulders, treading lightly so as not to disturb and possible wildlife, I spied many grazing Himalayan Tahr. These beastly-sized wild goats, of the order Artiodactyla, clambered beneath me foraging from the steep-banked grasslands on ledges not suitable for my weight. The males, much stockier, around 70kg and the females around half of that, moved with agility akin to a Kung Fu master. Following a period of calm relaxation observing the herd, I moved on, crossing the most dramatic of suspension bridges, draped in prayer flags and looking up valley on Mount Everest and her neighbouring peaks. Here two ladies touted me to invest in fruit. I paid 300NPR for a couple of near-frozen oranges and enjoyed the majestic views of Everest and the Khumbu region. As I waited, I once again met Will and John. We cantered up the steep and strenuous climb into Namche Bazaar.

I joined Will and John for a wander, dropping off my laundry at a nearby laundry-house. A miracle considering no flowing water in the Yak Hotel prevented showers and sink water. After lunch in Everest Bakery, sampling Yak steak and eating pizza, I wandered the basin of the U-shaped magnet town.

A late breakfast of apple strudel and my first cappuccino of the year in Namche Bakery were followed up mostly by rest and relaxation. No walking. I acclimatised with ease to the altitude but sought some time to read and enjoy the sunlight. Hiring a down jacket proven to be the most exercise I had that day. Cafe 8848 was a pleasant place to sit and write for a few hours.

The Yak Hotel, complete with a marauding Yak-cow hybrid outside, as if for display, was lovely and warm. No heating, just great insulation. Power points in the room allowed me to recharge my phone. The 500NPR Wi-Fi service and lack of showers (frozen) were luxuries I opted against. The first night, I ate in the dining lounge. Tough meat in the Sherpa stew ruined an okay dish, accompanied by a good potato rosti. I was told the room would be 100NPR per night, and found that 300NPR per night was charged for my two nights. The breakfast was basic and the staff, a mixture of good (one Sherpa man) and rude or disinterested (one Rai man). I came back to Namche Bazaar on the way back but opted not to stay at the Yak Hotel again.

Namche Bakery was recommended for good cakes. I sampled the apple strudel on three occasions. It could be argued that they make the best apple strudel outside of Europe. The cappuccinos are also very good. The sun-kissed windows look out onto an amazing picturesque view that could make your jaw drop.

On my first visit to the Everest Bakery, I had a sizzling yak steak and shared pizza with friends. A wonderful pot of black tea was supped. I returned to try it again, opting for a different pizza and a cake. Very good food indeed, with interesting walls coated in sports team memorabilia from Norway, the UK and beyond.

One night in Namche, I wanted to message some special friends and family. I was in a far-off place, they deserve assurance – and I craved a familiar vice. The hotel’s Wi-Fi was off. I went towards other end of village to see if two open bars had Wi-Fi, but two stray dogs snapped at me. I thought that they wanted to play, but in dark, I can’t risk getting bitten. I retreated. Then I had to dart between free-roaming yaks in the narrow village pathways. They scared the now snarling dogs away. I arrived back in hotel, safely out of the cold too (-15C outside).

My acclimatisation was going well. Signs of altitude sickness include a loss of appetite (I’m famished an hour after eating), and breathlessness (my recovery rate is actually impressive). I avoided overexertion (my planned routes are a day behind and I’m monitoring the distance and time trekking), drinking more than I usually would too, going higher each day, but sleeping lower. I was without facial or hand swellings, no headaches, which was odd because I nutted a door in the night going to the toilet, in Sete. I bled a bit.

Happy to be free of the Yak Hotel, whilst warm and comfortable, the food was terrible and the service equally poor. On amending my bill to something akin to proper and not the figures they quoted, I skipped on. Darting sluggishly between ice-covered staircases and sloping pathways, I reached the top of Namche Bazaar. An army helicopter thundered as it lifted off, coating all around in a thick matting of dust. I covered my eyes and throat to protect them from obliterating dust. Soon it passed. I was back on the trekking trail. Here were views of the 6,812m tall Amal Dabble, meaning “Mother’s necklace.” As beautiful mountains go, this is one of the most scenic peaks I have ever encountered. Pure artwork in nature.

Lhotse Shar, Taboche, Kang Talge, Selawa village, Phunke Tenga’s prayer water wheels, Tengboche Monastery and a panorama liked no other on arriving at Tengboche (3860m). . On the ascent upwards, I really needed to urinate. So, finding a quiet point, I darted behind a tall recycling bin, whipping out the necessary body part to eject the toxic yellow fluid I needed to expel. That surprised the young South Korean girl squatting behind there, doing the same. I almost hit her. I missed. The pressures made us wee in unison and avoid eye contact in embarrassment. I finished, glanced her way, said sorry and bid her a good day.

I clambered up the steep zig-zagging dusty footpath, opting for a rest at a tree that inspired a climb and held a natural seat-like branch. Here, I ran into John and Will again. We pushed on the final ascent to Tengboche, before sharing dinner and tales of this amazing trekking route. The largest Gompa in the Khumbu region stood bold amongst the village reflecting the beautiful moonlight of the night.

Tengboche Monastery has been rebuilt several times. Lightning strikes and multiple earthquakes haven’t managed to end its long history. At the top of a juniper-filled valley, it sits on a dusty plain with roaming yak-cow hybrids called… Possibly stray dogs sleep in the sunlight of the morning. The monastery looks almost mediaeval. It was actually built in 1923. I don’t know why they chose the jutting flank of land teetering over the Imja Khola River but they in essence selected one of the greatest Himalayan panoramic views in doing so. The Lhotse ridge, Ama Dablam, Everest and many more mountains star in a 360-degree view of brilliantly unique picturesqueness. Littered by wintering rhododendrons, bare of flower, and patches of ice it certainly had a feel of magic.

Toils and rewards

21/02/201721/02/2017oyster28catcher (JRA)1 Comment

I’d seemingly been walking for ages, when I grasped my watch. Three hours had passed. I stopped for tea at Goyam, height of 3220m. I had ascended 645m. It had been arduous. A real slog of slow steps, one foot in front of the other. One at a time. Ever. So. Slowly. At a tea shop, a toddler sat beneath a sign advertising Yak cheese for sale. The toddler, joined by a thin grey cat, played and smiled. I tucked into garlic soup and yak cheese potatoes, quickly cooked by the owner. Across the path a series of flattened houses and following my meal, I would see several houses up the path, equally as destroyed. A soulful reminder that nature rules these mountains and the people here are guests clinging onto the edge. Immediately after leaving Goyam the trail seemed to steepen more than I thought possible. Was I climbing or trekking?! The beautiful primordial Rhododendron forests became sparser. The odd lightning struck tree flanked an otherwise trench-like path. Was the path formed in a riverbed or did the summer monsoons strip the earth away? It felt like I was in Tolkien’s Rivendell. A beautiful stray mongrel, part wolf-like, part-Labrador like followed me for several hundred metres. Every now and then I skirmished to the side of a path to allow cattle, mostly yak-cow hybrids to bundle by. Their heavy weight shook the loose pathways as I perched precariously on a ledge just inches above.

Since leaving Sete, I had been regular passed and overtaken by a young pair of children heaving 20kg of potatoes. The 12 year old girl and her 14 year old brother had stopped to talk with me several times. They rested their sacks of potatoes and commented on my weight load and walking pace. These local Sherpa children were polite and invited me to their parent’s lodge for the night. I politely declined and stated my end point of Junbesi. Eventually their strength and experience allowed them to zoom ahead of me as I rested and took in the panoramic scenery. Several Kathmandu to Lukla flights passed lower in the valley beneath me, rising to fly over Lamjura La pass and mountain. This was my aimed route, over that curving ridge way off in the distance. The plants and trees became bare of leaves and greenery. Even the mosses and lichens dulled in colour. I started to tread on ice and snow. It lasted seemingly for several kilometres. I reached a Stupa and several closed lodges. Looking up at higher ground, I placed my rucksack down and looked at the towering boulders and scattered Mani stones, scrolling prayer after prayer. I turned around to be greeted by something grim. A blizzard.

The clouds, thick as ash, grey as the darkest of skies, and swelling with tumbling snow and a menacing amount of local wind. I turned forwards, aware that inside ten to twenty minutes that storm was going to hit me. I took in my surroundings. An open creaky wooden toilet was not adequate. I had to keep going forward in the hope of finding a lodge. I stumbled between two large and saw an open door set inside a wooden single storey building. The sign, Lamjura View, bellowed out, hope and sanctuary. A Sherpa man gestured me to enter. We talked and drank black tea. He said I was lucky to avoid the raging blizzard outside. In the corner the teenage boy and girl I met on my trek sat talking. They were the man’s children. The mother had died in the devastating earthquake. The family, strong and very together, ran this lodge and farmed potatoes lower in the valley. To some they live an idyllic life in a mountain paradise, but to those with open eyes, a harsh lifestyle with nature battling all odds was clearly in play. After maybe thirty minutes the storm dissipated and disappeared completely. I stepped out of the hobbit-hole like door, thanking my hosts and wishing them all the best.

Immediately after leaving the lodge, the crest of the mountain pass folded away. On the steep descent, after only a few short metres the snow line ended. Green primordial trees towered high and strong. Thick orange-brown trunks crammed the slopes and a path wound tightly beneath them. Each tree blanketed in moss, a coat of rustic pubic hair belying that of the ancients.

Large steps downwards, occasionally showing a dusting of snow that had breached the thick tree canopy overhead. The sky disappeared above, hidden by foliage. Still air and an eerie lack of sound pinpricked my ears up, alert, listening for any discernible sounds. Few came. Not even birdsong. The climb to 3736m, along a ridge that hit 3300m and finally 3530m had been relentlessly tough, on icy slippery paths with a sheer drop far below. The descent started as a welcome break. It ended almost on tears. The downwards path seemed to go on forever. Down, down and down like listening to Radiohead and mulling over personal depression on a grey autumn day, faced with a long cold winter ahead. A massive downer. Down. Seemingly eternally cast downwards.

A shriek of an eagle came from my left. I looked up at a cloud covered peak and cliff-face. I suddenly felt extremely small, like an ant looking up at a tree. To my fore, a broken patch of land emerged from trees. Ruins of a once glorious looking alpine-style lodging scattered across the ground. The damp looking wooden timbers, long rotten and rock walls draped hitherto and with no order.

My legs dragged as I walked the final kilometres downhill, slipping slowly into the valley surrounding Junbesi. Few lights twinkled between trees and from the village below. I sought a lodge. Between dark trees, I found a row of lodges. I opted for Apple Lodge, despite my dislike for Apple products. To my surprise, I linked up once again with Will and John. We compared thoughts on the day’s trek. They had arrived earlier than me, having departed from Sete much earlier too. My twelve hours up and up, gave me good reason to go to bed earlier. That and the cold. I found my room pleasantly warm. I pulled my sleeping bag shut and drifted away into a peaceful sleep.

I opened the curtain. The view looked out onto an apple orchard. In the distance, I spied a new roadway from Salleri, south in the valley, stretched up the long deep crevice of valley into Junbesi. This was a sign of modern times and a connection to the outside world, likely welcome that would advance the region’s prosperity. Maybe even bringing silence to busier villages between Jiri and here. Many jeeps from Kathmandu travel to Salleri now to allow Everest Base Camp – and other popular wanders in the region – treks to save money compared with flights to Lukla. Yesterday’s 15km of apparent endless up and down walking.

The day would involve 17km ending at Nunthala village, 2194m. I departed without breakfast and arrived two hours later at Phurteng. The lodge proclaimed to all, “Everest View” as a name. It was accurate. The Himalayas beckoned up the valley. Sure enough, there it was, to the left, a pyramid-topped peak with clouds whipping from the summit. Pure beauty. This was the fifth day of trekking and I had already seen the world’s tallest mountain, above sea level, with my naked eyes. I ate my Sherpa stew and Tibetan bread, satisfied at this special moment. Scaling Taksindu Pass and passing Taksindu monastery complete with helicopters buzzing back and forward to assist with construction work, I descended to Nunthala, along slippery muddy and mule-dung strewn pathways. A trio of Lammergeiers (Bearded Vultures) glided overhead. This is a beautiful bird with around one metre of long narrow pointed wings and a stocky tail. Their underbodies light in colour and black underwings a light coloured heads. Having seen Himalayan Serow, deer-like mammals that day by a waterfall, and also Siberian Weasels, it had been a most pleasant nature day.

I arrived in Nunthala, checked into a pleasantly warm lodge, ordered a Yak cheese pizza which was 90% cheese and 10% base. No tomato or vegetables. It was brilliant and crispy around the edges. The sound of mules passing by with bells tinkling one by one reminded me of days spent by Welsh harbours enjoying the sound of boats gently rocking on calm waves, with the sound of cables rattling on metal masts. Most relaxing. I chatted briefly with a Canadian couple, only the fourth and fifth foreigners I had encountered in eight days of trekking.

Will and John stayed nearby in a different lodge. Our leapfrog casual way of bumping into each other was becoming part of the trail. We marvelled at how fast the French man, Vincois moved. He always set out later than us, smoked a chimney’s measure of cigarettes and managed to beat us to every end-point. Not that it was a race. Trekking is all about managing your own pace and not rushing. You take in your surroundings, manage the weight you carry and your body. Your feet need tender loving care, as does your meal management and nutritional requirements. Energy and comfort is the key to performance, aside from hydration and mental belief.

Leaving Nunthala, 2194m, with contrasting views of the Himalayas, cold and icy beyond fertile hills and mountains, the morning mule trains carrying freight to and fro, passed by, bells ringing gently and softly. The odd yak train interrupted the passage of mules to give a continual hazardous flow of passing footpath traffic. The paths generally being no more than a metre wide, meant for a tight squeeze often and regular brushes with cargo ranging from gas canisters to cement to wood and occasionally polystyrene blocks as high as the animals themselves. Passing through Chhirdi (1500m – the river crossing of the mighty Dudh Koshi Nadi glacial river), Jubhing (1680m), Kharkikola (1985m) to reach Bupsa Danda (2340m) resembled a Tour de France stage with a mountain finish. This was the least tough of all the trekking days today, a gentle meander with a climbing at the end. From Jubhing to Kharikola, a patchwork of gardens and some well-maintained ornamental pathways gave a tropical feel. Banana plants, flowers and other tropical fruit mixed with higher altitude plants. One tree even had an umbrella on top. The mystery as to why remains unanswered but it did make me laugh and raise my spirits as school kids skipped by on the way to their mountainside education places. Gumba Danda at the foot of the climb to Bupsa Danda was very busy and queues to pass a packed suspension bridge held me up for twenty minutes as mule trains passed over and over again. On stalking the steep trail to Bupsa Danda, it immediately became apparent that this village had far more hostels and lodges than previous villages. The spur of a Lukla to Tumlintar trail and a higher concentration of hydro-prayer wheels and monasteries are the probable draw.

At Bupsa Danda, I stayed at Sherpa Guide lodge, overlooking a valley with the Dudh Koshi Nadi glacial river passing way below. The walls of the lodge were covered in summits that the Sherpa leader and owner had reached. 14 of the top 20 Himalayan peaks were there! Two children including a toddler who ran through a wall (MDF panel, it may have been) played around the room. I spoke with a Sherpa guide, Lakpa Nuru Sherpa, on a week’s holiday from his home village of Namche Bazaar.

The Dudh Koshi Nadi glacial river is fed by glacial run-off from the gargantuan Cholatse and Ngozumba glaciers. It thundered deep in the vale below. The morning walk involved something more serene, Orange-Bellied Himalayan squirrels, chipmunks and many unique birds accompanied me on my stroll skirting Kari La at 3080m high. In Paiya, I stopped at Dreamland for a late breakfast and met Will with his father John. We discussed the trail and John, being a former Nepal tour guide from over 15 years ago told me of how the trail used to be bustling with porters, guides and much more freight feeding the lodges from Jiri to Everest Base Camp and Namche Bazaar.

Having a late breakfast at Dreamland, with their penned motto of, “Come as a guest, leave as a friend,” I mulled over my thoughts. Nepal is like a distant, yet loving brother, one who has gone through the best and worst of times, together and apart. Seeing Siberian weasels along the route connected me with nature, seeing fish painted on buildings reminded me of the high levels of illiteracy. Many political parties favour symbols to gain votes, because words simply cannot be understood. Amongst the scuttling Highland shrews, the pathways were clean, save for the odd lonesome horse going to the bathroom. At stages I had been followed by faithful-looking dogs, perhaps looking for scraps of food or simply as a guide through perilously precarious passes.

Stood by the river Dudh Koshi Nadi, rapids crashed against rocks and solid mounds of pebbles. The glacial blue water, deep and powerfully displacing all water flowing beneath it. Ice lined the rims of calmer shallower pools, set back from the main violence of malevolent torrential channels. The sounds resembled that of Viking god Thor crashing an iron hammer in the sky. Passing through the villages of Muse, Chheplung (2660m), Nurning (2492m), Phakding (2610m), and Monja (2835m) before reaching Jorsalle (2740m), the river kept me company. Ever present, ever powerful. I walked against the flow of the river, safely dry and up bank from the crushing waters. Missing posters of a trekker, who fell into the river in November, issued a stark reminder of the dangers of those waters. The water flowing was equally relaxing. I felt like Clark Kent when he walked and formed his fortress of solitude. Awakened.

First steps from Jiri

21/02/201716/05/2021oyster28catcher (JRA)

On filling all seats and any aisle space, bus 5064 departed. Leaving behind Kathmandu shrouded in dust, a cold thick fog and a bustle akin to the busiest of busy Chinese cities, I relaxed, well, as much as the rock solid seat padding would allow. The nine hour journey allowed two toilet stops by the roadside, some amateur road-building as we tackled mudslide hit segments of road and a meal of Dal Bhat, a staple food of trekking in Nepal. Glimpses of snow-capped peaks, cloud filled valleys and village lifestyles passed by as Nepali Dohori (two-sided debate) and Aadhunik (modern) music styles blurted from a crackly speaker on the bus. My enquiries into the music, from a fellow passenger, of the Sherpa people, educated me that there are more than fifty different ethnicities in Nepal. He said I should expect to hear hundreds of types of different music. I welcomed this.

The bus slammed on the brakes, and slid forward in dirt. The driver, shouted in plain English, “Jiri, Hotel.” He gestured at me. I gathered my rucksack, stepped off the bus into ankle deep mud. The bus rolled away. I turned back. Hotel Everest, 1950m high, claimed the sign. Perched on stilts with magnificent valley views, I could not see Everest. Still, it was impressive. It was 100NPR for a night, with food and drink giving me a total of 1400NPR by the next morning. I ignored the ice cold shower, the next morning, fed on momo (a steamed dumpling), Tibetan bread and garlic soup. I repacked (my now 20kg backpack) and by 8.30am, I set out. The first real steps of my trek! My path through Ramate was steep, Chitre also, and by a place called Pass (maybe, they couldn’t think of a name) I was stood at 2334m. Ben Nevis, in the U.K., stands at 1,345m (4,411 ft.). It is the U.K.’s tallest mountain. I was now almost a kilometre higher. I enjoyed my first close-up views of the Himalayas, stood by a giant Ncell mobile phone mast. I marvelled how the beginning point of many Mount Everest climbs began at Jiri (fewer than 5% now walk from the once named Gateway to Mt. Everest). Now, you could get 3G reception and few people trekked from this quaint end-of-the-road village. I descended via Mali, crossing a rebuilt steel bridge into Shivalaya. Here I applied for entry into Gaurishankar Conservation Area and gazed longingly at signs advising Red Pandas lived in the area. Oh, to see one, in the wild would be amazing!

The wild glacial river of Khimti Khola pushed metres below the almost entirely rebuilt village of Shivalaya. Like much of Nepal, the earthquakes and aftershocks from April and May 2015 had affected huge swathes of the country, here this village shown evidence of missing homes, ruins, and cracks scattering a large area. The cost to community, lives and sociology appeared hidden in the local people’s eyes and actions as they soldiered on with a very positive outlook. I lodged at New Sherpa Guide. My first blister throbbed and shoulders ached. Satisfied with 14km on day one, I slid away into a calm dream. The cool air of the night soothed my aching shoulders.

Freshly ground coffee is a great morning smell. There was no such thing here today. Shivalaya’s next best thing was a Scottish-style porridge heaped with fresh banana slices and sharp Masala tea. The day would continue just as diversely. The trek went up, and up along a ridge and from sunshine into thick high cloud with snowflakes as big as dinner plates. At Deurali, 2705m, for ginger tea and a snack of momo, I met Australian father and son, John and Will. I would go on to meet them almost daily for my trek. Of the five hours of trekking, almost four hours was upwardly, the remainder down.

I arrived into Bhandar, 2190m, and bunked at Shona Lodge. A French man, Vincois, I met many times along the way and my two new Australian friends also lodged here. The owner had rebuilt the lodge, changing from stone to wood panels and timber. Throughout the journey I would learn few families favour stones or concrete above the first storey of buildings now. Traditional stone and wooden frames have been usurped by concrete foundations and wood thereafter. Corrugated tin rooftops have replaced slates and wood in many regions. 12km of walking that day, ended in a cold night’s sleep on a full belly of fuel-like Dal Bhat. I drifted off, giggling at the lady owner’s witty and pushy characteristics. She was certainly a livewire, and her daughter, a local teacher was the salt to her pepper, very kind and calm.

I tiptoed through the ruins of a hamlet located a little lower in the valley than Bhandar, through fields farmed with various leafed plants for eating and across a swamp onto more solid ground. The vast sweeping valley stretched with views of Pikey Peak to the south and south-east. To the immediate east, the pathway stretched firmly upwards. My research indicated several hours of trekking to Sete. It was all up. Passing a broken suspension bridge, I opted for the newly installed Gurkha-soldier built bridge, and crossed into a ghost-village of Kinja, 1630m. Empty shells of once life-filled buildings and carcasses of footpaths through now empty farmyards covered a headland between the two raging rivers of Likhu Khola and Kinja Khola. It felt both summery in temperature but empty in spirit. As I ascended, I ate in Chhmbu, another empty village. By 4 o’clock, my eight hour hike ended at Sete’s Sunrise Guest House. I treated myself to a warm shower (200NPR) and ate Dal Bhat with Will, Vincois and John. This followed the standard gazing at a sunset and observation of all around the valley. Oh, and a drunk Sherpa lady dancing the crests of a steep footpath having enjoyed an afternoon’s Raksi (rice wine), Tongba (millet brew) or Chhaang (fermented barley) alcoholic drinks. Her drunken laughter and songs could be heard long after she had walked many miles away.

Just before bed, Vincois, mentioned tomorrow’s walk is essentially 1000m up and 1000m down. That reminded me of the Band of Brothers line about Currahee Mountain (Georgia, U.S.A.), “3 Miles up, 3 Miles down.” I smiled wryly at the challenge. I departed Sete, 2575m, for Junbesi, 2700m. How hard could that be?

Into Kathmandu, I went

21/02/201716/05/2021oyster28catcher (JRA)1 Comment

Passing through Terminal 3 International, Departure, Indiri Gandhi International Airport, in New Delhi I was a little hungry. I wanted substantial food and not fast food. I asked for lemonade – and not masala lemonade. I got the masala lemonade I said I did not want. The starter and mains were dry and quite bland with no real flavour befitting their over the top prices.

Kathmandu‘s Tribhuvan International Airport marked my entry and exit to the country of Nepal. Red bricked walls gave a homely feel as I whisked by rucksack from the conveyor belt. I had filed a visa request in less than ten minutes and exited into the icy cold air of baggage reclaim, with only an hour to spare before the clock hit 2017’s New Year’s Day. A pre-booked taxi-van, full-throttled through bustling streets as revellers greeted the Gregorian calendar year with optimistic open arms. Before long I had checked in, drank a celebratory ginger tea and gone to bed, shattered from the journey from Dongguan. Ten hours of flights and wheels hadn’t been so bad. Just not, what I was excited for.

I arrived at Kathmandu with 30 minutes to New Year’s Day kicking in. On departing the airport, tired and having pre-arranged a taxi lift by the Alobar 100 hostel, I was greeted by a mob of men, of them two men appeared to be connected to the hostel. One held my name. The other was a driver. It was a tad intimidating. I booked the taxi to avoid being over-charged and to make the passage to the hostel simple. It put me in a poor mood immediately. I was harangued into tipping, my leftover low-denomination Chinese Yuan. I had no U.S. dollars, despite pushy requests for them. Nor pounds, I live in China and not the U.K.

Check-in was simple. Advice was good. The pre-booked shared dorm for six was actually an 8-berth. No worries. After a good shower in the morning, I had a simple breakfast. I ate a few meals at the hostels. Prices for food and drink were okay. There were plenty of books to swap, and good Wi-Fi. A porter and guide service, tourist trek place is attached but was above my budget so I opted away from utilising that. That said, the lady advised me of where the main bus station to Jiri was and the TIMS office. Communal lounges and the bar were welcoming but a bit smoky. The outside balcony proved comfortable for reading. The bunk bed on the ground, bed and locker G2G (Good to go?) proved perfect for my large rucksack and lanky, heavy figure. I slept well.

The following day, I explored the city of Kathmandu and made my last minute trek purchases, some walking poles and a dust mask for the immensely dusty city.

I explored the Garden of Dreams out of curiosity. I had no idea what was beyond tall the perimeter red-brick wall. The Garden of Dreams is really well-maintained. Not a hint of dust. Combining multiple cultures and their interpretations of a stately home’s gardens, they combine well. You really do escape from the city beyond the walls. Chipmunks, butterflies and birds combine to give a feel of being closer to nature than on a road. If you like the neo-classical style and quintessential ambience of a garden, this is the only place to go in Kathmandu. I visited on a grey cloudy day and lost the feeling of that weather on stepping through the doorway. 200NPR well spent. I learnt only half of the original gardens built remain. That is a crying shame. The Austrian Development Aid, Eco Hima and the Nepal Ministry of Education have aided renovations but the gardens still need a little more, following earthquake damage.

That evening I visited Kathmandu Durbar Square at the Hanuman Dhoka Palace Complex. It is bizarrely one of three sites called Durbar Square. The earthquake on 25 April 2015 has ruined a fair portion of the site. Expect stilts, ruins and boundaries hiding the damage. However, refurbishments are under way and taking time. The UNESCO World Heritage Site is marvellous. I visited as the sunset and enjoyed the dusky appearance. The colourful

Kalbhairav at Hanumandhoka dharwar is bedazzling on the eyes. The Taleju Temple is ornate and spectacularly broad. The colours of Courtyard of Kumari Bahal are equally pleasing on the eyes. Throughout the area there is a real wow factor.

I eventually booked a coach ticket to the beginning point of my trek, Jiri.

For 590 Nepalese Rupees (NPR), even though I paid 400 more for a taxi and arranged ticket via a tourist agency, I found myself at 5am on the 3rd of January, walking around hundreds of unlit buses looking for my bus, number 5064. I eventually met a kind soul who shown me to a cramped set of wheels with forty seats. Space was not optional. A roof area would be available for summer passengers, but the severe morning frost and fog made this uninviting. The driver positioned my lanky legs behind his seat and I was set for the journey.

Winter is coming.

29/12/201629/12/2016oyster28catcher (JRA)1 Comment

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

I am sat here smugly sat here, with my cup of squeezy no-added sugar Vimto. I have less than two days before I feel myself soaring into the sky…

My flight to Nepal’s Kathmandu (via Mumbai, India) departs Hong Kong S.A.R. International Airport on Saturday the 31^st of December 2016, at noon. I arrive local time in Nepal at 23:00hrs. Hopefully, I’ll have my baggage collected and be mobile before the year 2017 A.D. arrives. The 2966 km journey (as the crow flies) will take longer as a budget flight dictates the change in India. Jet Airways, I have heard, aren’t that bad, so here goes a journey into the unknown and unexperienced with an airline I know little about. An adventure awaits.

Just like Father Christmas has done in recent times, I have made a list of things to take, checked it twice, thrice and more times. Am I ready? I don’t know. Did I plan? Yes. Just to prove a point, here is my checklist…

Water bottle/1L water pack Nalgene/
Passport photos Insurance Additional risk insurance Notify bank Flights
Trekking poles
Camera and accessories Camera bag
Pens
Toilet paper
SteriPen
Synthetic or nylon top Pants. No cotton.
Bandanna
Trail food
MP3 player
Sleeping bag
Sleeping bag liners
Cotton pillow case
Wind breaker
Wind pants
Long socks
Day sack
Batteries/bulbs/torch/head lamp
Swiss army knife
Sunglasses/goggles
Lip sun block
Sun lotion
Medical/first aid kit
Sewing kit
Wool socks
Sun hat
Woollen hats
Long Johns Baselayers
Gloves
Gaiters
T-shirts
Down jacket
Waterproof jacket
Trekking boots
Trainers
Hiking pants
Hiking shirts (full sleeves)
Ruck sack
Towel

After three days in Kathmandu, I will begin my ascent. I will somehow get to a place called Jiri by car, jeep or bus. From there, I will hike from Jiri (1951m) to Deorali (2705m); Deorali to Sete (2575m); Sete to Junbesi (2675m); Junbesi to Numtala 2360m; Numtala to Khari Khola 2100m; Khari Khola to Surkhe 2293m; and Surkhe to Lukla 2810m. Nowadays many people abandon the old ways and fly from Kathmandu to Lukla. Not me, I’m walking as the explorers of old did. I’ve allowed 8 days for this journey. Some say it can be done in 6, but I guess they’re more Superman than I. There are a few alternative routes that bypass Lukla and head on to Namche Bazar (3.440 m) but perhaps the altitude gain is too great. My plan involves Phakding (2.610 m), Mojo’s Sagarmatha National Park Entrance around Larja bridge (2.830 m), and Namche Bazar (3.440 m), hopefully arriving on a Friday to witness the great Saturday morning market. Khumjung (3.780 m) looking over at Ama Dablam (6.856 m), Tengboche (3.860 m) for the great monestaries, Pangboche (3.930 m), Pheriche (4.270 m), Dingboche (4.410 m), Dughla (Thokla) – 4.620 m, Thokla Pass (4.830 m) and my final place for sleeping in Gorak Shep camp (5.140 m). Here I will trek to Kala Patthar (5.545 m) and Everest Base Camp (5.364 m) to gaze upon Everest (8.848 m). After a few hours of that, I head back to Kathmandu as fast as I can. Hopefully I’ll get a day in the city before flying back to Hong Kong S.A.R. with my onward road of China by the 29^th of January 2017.

Months, weeks, days and hours of planning is about to begin… I’m both excited and nervous. I’ll miss those I love, dearly, as I do. But, dreams… dreams must be put into action, one by one.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

我永远不会放弃 (wǒ yǒngyuǎn bú huì fàngqì [I will never give up!]

27/12/2016oyster28catcher (JRA)2 Comments

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Between the articulations of idioms a Chinese class beneath the Grade 4/5 office, I could hear the distant sound of Wham. “Last year I gave you my heart…” and this was odd. The neighbouring kindergarten (nursery school) seemed to be ploughing through Christmas songs faster than a sleigh whizzing around the world, carrying a fat bloke delivering presents and gifts.

Christmas, this year, was and remains far more visible than the previous two years. The local malls (shopping centres), cafes, bars, even small shops have all gone all out. Even my apartment complex has invested in a huge tree and many decorations. Seeing and hearing Christmas, as an embraced addition, an imported tradition doesn’t even seem purely commercial. There is joy with it. As part of the Christmas movement, I attended two Christmas parties at Speaker Training Centre (Hengli) and another Christmas themed afternoon in Dongguan City 17th Sunshine Primary School. At Dongguan (东莞) Shi (市Market or City) Nánchéng (南城south town) Qu YángGuāng (阳光sunshine) diqi (第七17th) Xiǎo Xué (小学primary school), I was reunited with Bright once again. A friend since the first day I arrived at Dao Ming. We picked up like we had last met yesterday.

Christmas weekend was spent in Hengli, walking, talking, eating and cycling. Sky, Mark, Maria and their team had welcomed me many times before. The Speaker Family training centre is a hearty place, focused on making students young and old confident to conquer English and master the art of public speeches. They are a passionate bunch, surrounded by family in Maria’s case and full of zest for learning. It is infectious. I like their business model very much. So, I attended many classes and Christmas game activities, sang Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes with several four year-olds and went to many great meals. On Christmas Day, Maria, Mark, Maria’s father, Maria’s step-father, Obama (Maria’s brother and a very talented cook), Jonhson (the spelling is right, I think… as it is on his ID card; an American) and I went to a very standard-looking Chinese restaurant and ate. We had tofu, chicken (the whole thing, heads, eyes, the lot), and many other delicious foods. Alongside, some Chinese medicinal drink, good for the kidneys. In Chinese medicine, your sexual mojo, stems from your kidneys. Our recycling machines are reportedly the body’s yin and yang. The seed of energy. Good diets make for good balance. Good balance makes for good kidneys. In turn, a good sexual function and reproduction. We drank a drink, medicinal alcohol, a kind of wine with elements of nuts, ginseng, pollen, spores, leeks, ling zhi (Reishi mushrooms, 灵芝) [possibly dried shrimps and oysters]. The sceptic in me was beaten back the next day. I awoke having had a great night’s sleep. I hadn’t been told that the drink was good for anything, other than my kidneys, the night before, but I can safely say there is a strong aphrodisiac quality in it, one that blasts your dreams into the foreground of the mind. Traditional Chinese Medicine may be a controversial area, often slammed for historic links to poaching and continued killing of animals. Some have been derived from the human body. However, the current 13,000 medicinals (it used to be 100,000!) are mostly plant and farmed animal sourced. Some are controversial, some have side-effects. I guess, like all commercially obtained pharmoceuticals (again some are derived from endangered animals and animal extracts), we must look at them on a case by case merit. Anyway, back to Christmas. It was a most wonderful weekend. Maria gave me some chocolates. Her family also gifted me a meal and Speaker Family treated me to a further meal. Chinese culture is heavily evolved around celebrations and meals. As Jonhson put it, “The more you eat and drink, the more you celebrate!”

Apples (苹果 Píngguǒ) are given because the word sounds like Ping’an (平安). Ping’an Ye 平安夜 is silent night. Someone cashed in on it and now it is a tradition. I have had many apples from teachers and students. I’ve eaten one apple a day for a week now. I now have 15 apples left. I don’t have an oven to make a crumble! I will have to rehome these apples.

To be this far from home, is tough, I won’t lie. To be so far from family at a time, traditionally and wholeheartedly for family, is tougher. This week has been the most homesick I have been, since arriving in China. This February will mark three years away from the U.K. (only, less the 13 weeks I have spent in China, across two summers).

“You have no authority. None.” The harsh grasp of M’s words in recent James Bond flick, Spectre. That’s how I feel right now with one of my colleagues. Analisa is an American. I think I don’t bond well with Americans. Perhaps, I try to hard in teamwork or perhaps I come across as authoritive. I’m no expert but I do have experience. I try to nurture and push. I don’t lead as such, I just influence and try to ensure the team are equal and steering the ship in the right direction. Otherwise, we will be powerless and grounded. Maybe it is just me? Maybe, I am a poor teammate? I doubt my value as a leader if I cannot guide, lead or be worked with. I think deep down in my heart, I am a farmer, looking for a simple life, but one who has been forced from his comfort zone into an unfamiliar land. An adventurer in a world where all adventures seem to be have been had. The deep ocean and space remain. And I’m too early in technological advancements to take those voyages!

The phrase “two cultures separated by a common language” is banded around quite freely now. American English seems to have usurped [British] English, and using phrases and idioms of everyday usage back home tend to fall by the wayside. Lost in translation? Or unheard? For the umpteeth time, I’ve been asked to compare the two languages. It was like watching paint dry. I feel like some people ask just to take the mickey. But, they’re not. Many of my Chinese colleagues and friends are very direct in how they speak. They simply avoid discretion and courtesy as it isn’t something learnt so freely. Our cultures are different. Turns of phrase are too much for most. Even trying to simplify my phrases is a problem at times. What gets me, is when a Nigerian accent or deep-south American accent is understood far clearer than my own voice. That said I get why those, who listen, around those speakers, with those accents, follow clearly. Your ears titrate. It takes time to understand people’s speaking styles and accents. Also, maybe I am guilty of being followed so well, that I slip back into a normal speaking style. However, I won’t be condescending and assume non-native speakers’ levels of English are not good enough to understand me. Non-native speakers, learners of a new language learn to communicate and better themselves. I won’t add water to a lake. I won’t remove the bones of the turkey, pulp it up and create a jelly. For me, if the learners spot the differences and ask questions, they are learning that proper [British] English is as peculiar as it comes. He most diverse language on Earth with more and more words and phrases being coined over time. It helps others to help me help you. I’ll adapt my tones, phrases and words to the scenario I face. Communication is key, clear or unclear, questions can always be asked.

So, my journey into learning Chinese is creaking. I am struggling, grasping at every loose rock on an upward climb to a peak far away. I’ll get there. It just takes time. I am trying to study the grammar, speak as native speakers do, and think in Chinese. I have been recording my spoken Chinese and playing it back to myself. Comparisons of the inflections reveal, I am near tone deaf. I can’t differeniate the four tones at times. Partly because of the varied accents around me and partly because I’m learning Mandarin, slap bang in Cantonese language territory. I do have the advantage of natural speakers galore around me. I just need to prod them to make them speak Chinese with me and not English. I don’t care if I make mistakes or lose face. I will learn from these instances. I want to use formal and informal phrases, so making mistakes or cultural faux pas from times to time will assist me. There are co many cultural rules and habits, and these can differ from town to town, region to region and so on. My Chinese notepad is bulging. Soon, I may need to have to expand it!

Anyway…

我永远不会放弃

(wǒ yǒngyuǎn bú huì fàngqì

[I will never give up!].

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Teachers open the door. You enter by yourself.

16/12/2016oyster28catcher (JRA)

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Last week, I heard a saying for the second time in as many weeks. I didn’t remember how to say it the first time around. I still don’t. However, I will try to learn it off by heart. I’ve printed a copy and downloaded an audi track to support the learning of such a phrase. Oddly, I think I heard it on a self-help guide someone was playing nearby me, on a subway train. I guess we all get inspiration from odd places at times.

Teachers open the door. You enter by yourself. Shī fu lǐng jìn mén, xiū xíng zài gè rén. 师傅领进门，修行在个人 Similar to You can lead the horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.

Right now, I feel inspired to create and write. It hasn’t always been that way this week. I have had purple patches. I think Elvis sang about having a Blue Christmas, and it had nowt to do with football allegiance. My melancholy mood has been brought on self-inflictedly, by not being home for Christmas. Last year and the year before, I felt so desolate and dejected. I was wretched company two years ago, and as downcast as a Mancunian grey sky last year also. Inside an optimist there is always a pessimist. There must be! To look forwards and upwards whenever the proverbial fan is smeared with excrement, there must be an ability to recognise the bad in all good. Disappointment doesn’t need to expected at every possible moment but it should be anticipated otherwise how do you dig yourself out of a shallow grave? Am I unhappy? No. But, I can feel unhappy. Sometimes I just keep my eyes looking at the sun, and knowing that whenever I fall, a warm ray of light can sweep me back onto my feet. The great thing about understanding your own mind, is control. I can control how happy I am, and how to escape crestfallen moments. Back off sadness. Shut up head. Have a Happy Christmas! Well, I will try, and at the end of the day this week has proven most positive.

Yesterday, Angle (pronounced Angel) and her team in Grade 5, class 7 gave me a wonderful Christmas card signed by many students. The thought and constant greetings of Merry Christmas from her class during the oral English exams made for great and hearty entertainment. All my classes in grades 5, 7 and 8 have been given little slips of paper, with “Dear Father Christmas…” and plenty of space to write their letters to Father Christmas (me, in this scenario). There will be a prize for the best written letters, the sweetest letters and maybe a few smaller prizes too. I’m going to ask the English teachers to do this too. “How can anyone be dispirited, trying to bring joy to others?” I ask. Well, the answer is never easy. Our minds are beautiful playgrounds of creation and memories. They can fill us with joy and longing. We’ll get there one day. Wherever there happens to be.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Catching up…

16/12/2016oyster28catcher (JRA)1 Comment

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Around 176,000 words have been spent to date. They have now migrated in monthly chapters from Wix.com to WordPress. There has been a considerable gap between postings. So, here we go… let’s try and fill in some gaps.

The last weekend of December, I went to Zhuhai for the Magic Island Music Festival. The review can be found on HubHao with some images supplied by the organiser.

The week, that followed this, I felt like curling up and watching Father Ted. “You’ll have some tea… are you sure you don’t want any? Aw go on, you’ll have some. Go on go on go on go on go on go on go on go on GO ON!” I’d shaken off a sore throat and headache which seemingly lasted forever. It started on a Tuesday and exited by Friday, thanks to Asda-branded dual action blackcurrant flavoured 2.4mg throat lozenges containing Hexylresorcinol. “There’s always time for a nice cup of tea. Sure, didn’t the Lord himself pause for a nice cup of tea before giving himself up for the world.” Yet, all I have wanted to do that week, was curl up with a packet of biscuits, crumbs spilling all over the bedsheets and a milky cup of P.G. Tips or Tetley’s tea. Something imported, proper English style tea, proper milk and one sugar. Instead, I ate chicken. “Are you sure, Father? There’s cocaine in it!” Well maybe not just a little bit of chicken but just under a kilogram of the feathered victim of a knife. “Oh, no, not cocaine. God, what am I on about. No, what d’you call them? Raisins.”

Amongst that displeasure, Murray’s Maine Rd FC were renamed Murray’s Cityzens F.C. and we have mostly new players. We lost against the reigning Champions, Cavera F.C., who are chasing their third Dongguan International Football league title, now named, Mission Hills League. The players Cavera (his team is named after himself), Mateus, Fausto, Vini and others tore us a new one, as some would say, we lost 10-0 having trailed 3-0 at the break. An absolute lesson in football. Before the game, we held a minute’s silence to observe the tragedy that occurred involving the Chapecoense team, staff, supporters and flight crew. Such a sad day for global sport. Everyone loves an underdog story, a team that grew and battled to get to a dream cup final. They have posthumously been given the Copa Sudamericana by South American football confederation Conmebol but have captured the hearts of many. Hats off to their Colombian opponents Atletico Nacional for their “spirit of peace, understanding and fair play.” Brazil will play Colombia in a friendly match at the end of January to help victims of the air crash. From the ashes of despair and loss, I hope that a phoenix of togetherness comes from this awful event. On talking with a teacher about this event, she chirped, “Why does no one remember the victims of MH370 so well?” I offered her a reponse, “I guess people need to push the authorities, their communities and the media to show how much the loss matters to make a difference in the way the tragedy is remembered.” Well… silly answer considering the totality of media power both here in China and Malaysia.

By that week’s Friday, I attended class 701, and every student looked despondent before I had even begun. After two minutes, two forlorn tearful students entered the class. Their sorrowful state conveying perhaps they hadn’t done homework and had received a scolding dressing-down. As I went amongst the students later-on in the class, I noticed more tearful faces. One boy was whining like a mourner at a scene of tragedy. Proper tears. I asked him what was up. He told me, “the Chinese teacher is leaving school soon.” I went team by team around the room, only to be greeted by similar melancholy. One girl had written a letter in Chinese with the odd English phrase bordering it, and she asked me to help, “What can you do to keep our teacher here?” I said I would talk with my teaching colleagues in the office and say how sad the students are right now. I did. It turns out the teacher, sporting a picture of a pug dog on the front with the phrase “Pug Life” is leaving very soon. I’m unsure why. Nobody has divulged any more detail and it is not my place. Whilst I feel accepted in the school and by my colleagues, I’m not quite part of the highly-intwined family structures of school life. Parents see less of their kids than these hard-working and well respected teachers. I’m mostly an observing guest, tolerated and respected but never ever equal. They know my place. I know my place. The lines are not misty or obscure. I do my job, without directions form others. My task is to get students talking, even in a teary-eyed environment, by the doldrums.

The weekend arrived, I fled to Shenzhen and attended the Shenzhen Blues Christmas party. Numerous kids visited Santa Claus (me in a blue suit, with fake additional hair) and most adults enjoyed the evening buffet. I won a prize in the raffle with numbert 142, kind of. Except I had purchased ten tickets, numbers 136 to 146. It should have been 136 to 145. I didn’t have a number 142. 142 was drawn from the hat. Katherine and Stephen, the brilliant leaders of Shenzhen Blues apologised profusely. It didn’t matter. I enjoyed the night, prizeless as it was. Soon after they posted me a City jacket as a Christmas present, addressed to Acton 142. So sweet of them. Too kind!

Murray’s Cityzens F.C.’s second game was a derby against Murray’s PandaBrew F.C. We lost 2-1, thanks to a late winner for the opposition. A quick free kick was taken as I lifted Barry up, having clattered his ankles, unintentionally. I struggled to get back and the other team scored. Maybe the goal had been coming but it was a bitter pill to swallow. A week later and we beat Chang’an F.A. 4-1. A good way to bounce back. Next week we have a tough game against Day & Night Bar F.C.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Dr Seuss, “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

15/12/2016oyster28catcher (JRA)

Dr Seuss, “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

17^th November 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

On this day, way back in 1999, I said farewell to Pup. At that time, he was by far my best friend in life. I remember him so fondly and even at lunchtime when I realised today’s date, a tear formed in my eye. Back when he had to be peacefully put to sleep, my chest heaved, my body stiffened and my heart wilted. As sad as it was, I had to say goodbye. My Dad was too sad to talk at the time, he asked his partner Bernadette to call me. In a swallowed response, I said, “Okay.” I hung up and ran to my room. I lay on a road mat play area, my Dad once got me, and the loose Lego bricks dug into me. I did not feel a thing. I was numb. My closet companion had passed from life. The year 1999 was not a pleasant one. I’d hugged Pup many times since losing my Nana to that terrible disease of cancer. It had been a painful few months. And then Pup was gone too. The ever faithful and reliable Pup was no more.

The next time I saw Dad, I could see Pup’s collar, sporting the address and name of Grandad’s address. It dangled emptily from a fruit bowl. The greeny-blue fruit bowl Nana had, with a cat somehow constructed into the glass flute of the stand. A horrible yet homely design of a fruit bowl. It reflected Nana’s love for pets and animals.

The selfish side of me had fought and fretted, wishing the RSPCA would find a way to keep Pup with us. I knew it would not be so. Pup had been equal part Rottweiler, Labrador and Kangaroo amongst other parts of the dog breed world. He was never neutered and even in present day Newton-of-the-Heath (a posh part of Manchester) you can see the most recent generations of his offspring. For years, Tracy and Jimmy, had a dog called Nobby (he was neutered) live next door to Grandad and Nana’s house, later Dad’s house. It was comical to see Pup, a big dog, alongside Suzie, Nomaz and other small dogs. Pup’s mild manner was pleasing, he had a nasty lick and could leave you coated in dog-saliva. He would bound over to you, a face full of zest and vim, almost smiling and then send you flying. Any dog that could clear a six feet high fence deserves an Olympic medal, yet he was just a modest member of the Acton-clan. He’d accept all and be loved by more. Having pulled me out of Clayton Vale’s red river once and sat with me on the brook overlooking Broadhurst Park, and Broadhurst Park Allotments, we were close, as close as a boy and a dog could be. He seemed to know if I was sad and find a way to cuddle close. He’d sit on my knee at any given opportunity, which for a larger dog, could stifle my blood flow.

Pup, was more than men’s best friend. He was a boy’s best friend and he inspired me. Who or what inspires or inspired you?

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

November 2016’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

“Once you choose hope, anything’s possible.”

2^nd November 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

The door god stared outwardly at me. Ménshén (门神) is a deity of doors, gates and passages. I entered the tea house (茶館 cháguăn) in HengLi, a district of Dongguan. A teacher from a training centre called Speaker English invited me to observe a few classes, have lunch and go for tea. We had planned to visit the town’s museum but it closed unexpectedly early, so immediately went for a sushi dinner. I caught up with Sam at Winner’s Bar, having chatted to him a week earlier after the HubHao HengLi Cup.

Anyway, the teas supped were a very strong but sweet Qimen red tea, initially, Qí Mén Hóng Chá (祁门红茶). Second up, in the cup, was Dongting Green Snail Spring [Dòng Tíng Bì Luó Chūn 洞庭碧螺春]. Finally, the last tea was a Yúnnán Pǔ’ěr Chá (云南普洱). Following all that I needed a wee. Conversation at the teahouse revolved around experiences in China, teaching ideas, and the possibly mythical legend of Xú Fú (徐福). Entrusted by Qín Shǐ Huáng (秦始皇) to see the secret of immortaility, Xú Fú (徐福) was packed off with three thousand virgin boys and girls, not a crate of Heinz Baked Beans in sight, and sought a mountainous elixir of life. Sea monsters stopped Xú Fú (徐福)’s voyage. It is purported that Xú Fú (徐福) never returned. He took a wrong turning and ending up in Japan. He is rumoured to have become the first emperor of Japan, Jofuku (徐福) and that could be how Chinese and Japanese languages have evolved from each other. Anyway, pretty much interesting yet heavy stuff. A later meal of sushi rounded off a great day out.

A week flew by. Classes were as normal as could be from Monday to Wednesday. On Thursday, after many hours of construction, we opened the Haunted House experience. Josie, Analisa and Jack worked very hard to create this indoor adventure. To judge how scary, it all was, the light had to be eliminated. Covering over 100 square metres in black bin bags and huge curtains to blacken a brighten music room, alongside three marquees decorated in spiders (affixed on winches), a scary principal’s room and a room of masks. With the lights now out, grades 5 and 6 passed through. Several boys and girls would cry by the end of the day. By grade 3 and 4 the next day, more would shed tears. On my birthday. At school.

My birthday was a quiet affair. Simple. Food, a few drinks and minimal celebration. The way I like it. On the Saturday, the celebration continued as I joined Javier and a dozen or so others for wakeboarding and a stag do/pub crawl. We arrived eager and early for wakeboarding, taking the short ferry to a private island antiparadise. After a lengthy wait, by the ill-prepared staff of the catchily named Songshan Lake OPIZ Water-skiing club, we were split into two boats. Boat one’s captain with Javier, Daniel, Gambi, Lucho, Bram and Aaron departed earlier than the second boat. Our boat had novices Calum, John Burns, Alvaro, Abraham and an aggravatingly impatient captain of the speedboat. To prove how much of a bodge job the whole wakeboarding experience was, there was little to none instruction on how to upright yourself and how to remain steady. That said the language barrier and cultural differences probably played into it. Or maybe the boards were too stumpy. The wrong water? After watching everyone try, I readied myself. Or rather, I tried to squeeze into the lifevest. It didn’t fit. I gestured to the speedboat captain. He laughed then frowned. He tried to force an already overstretched clip into another tightly fitting clip. No joy. With this he said we’d get another jacket from the other boat. I had to patient for much longer than I had anticipated. A whole two weeks of excitement about trying wakeboarding had to wait. With that, Alvaro dipped in for a second set of attempts. Low and behold, the boat conked out. Ten minutes of failed engine revs and starting pursued. We were going nowhere fast. The rustbucket of a boat with the continually flashing engine advice of “maintenance” beneath a red letter was dead to the world. Ideal for Hallowe’en weekend in some ways. After he used his 3% battery to call his colleagues back on terrafirma, a jetski pulled alongside. The man from it dived on board. He immediately started the engine. Our speedboat captain had lost so much faith. Instead of going to the other boat, we returned to the shithole of an island we had set sail from. No wakeboarding was to be had. A tad frustrating. Almost like the day my Dad took me to Knowsley Safari Park, and we sat in the carpark eating sandwiches. Unlike that day, I didn’t enjoy this experience. It was grade A, class one bobbins with the premier side option of optimum shite. Like the many dead fish floating over the lake and the dead cat on the island HQ roof, not a pretty sight.

Bram and Abraham had to return to inner-city Dongguan, whilst Oggy tagged in and met us at Gecko Restaurant and Pub in Chang’an. Here we had fantastic pizza, some Boddingtons and then walked to Ziggy’s Bar, via a square dance. Having gotten Javier into a rather feminine attire and made him sign autographs to strangers at Gecko Bar, it was rude not to encourage an incursion on the square dance of central Chang’an town. From then on we visited One Stop bar for a 1RMB Tiger Beer, before alighting by taxi to The Treehouse in Wanjiang and then to the heavily crowded Hallowe’en bash at Murray’s Irish Bar in Dongcheng. Being home before 4am assisted in a lazy Sunday.

On Sunday, I spent time looking at the varied 17^th (X 2) Birthday well-wishes. I have partially ridden a crest of happiness since my birthday. Unexpected messages, a few great thoughts (like a notepad from one student) and some vimto concentrate from Kate in the U.K. have helped me feel positive. That and City’s fantastic win over Barcelona. Sadly, my mind is distracted by news that my mother is in hospital. Mum needs to have an operation to remove something causing her pain.

The notepad received on my birthday, from a student in class 704, has a small quote, in Chinese, it translates as, “You need to succeed in life.” It isn’t up there with such distinctions as Christopher Reeves, “So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbable, and then, when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable.” However, it does inspire. Inspiration, like trying to push students in class, is key to success.

Some more great Christopher Reeve quotes:

“A Hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure inspite of overwhelming obstacles.”

“If I can laugh, I can live.”

“I’m not living the life I thought I would lead, but it does have meaning, purpose. There is love… there is joy… there is laughter.”

“Even though I don’t personally believe in the Lord, I try to behave as though He was watching.”

“A hero is an ordinary person doing things in an extra ordinary way.”

“Either you choose to stay in the shallow end of the pool or you go out into the ocean.”

“there is a relationship between the mind and the body that can both create a physical condition and enable us to recover from it”

“We all have many more abilities and internal resources than we know. My advice is that you don’t need to break your neck to find out about them.”

“I have to stop this cascade of memories, or at least take them out of their drawer only for a moment, have a brief look, and put them back. I know how to do it now: I have to take the key to acting and apply it to my life. There is no other way to survive except to be in the moment. Just as my accident and its aftermath caused me to redefine what a hero, I’ve had to take a hard look at what it means to live as fully as possible in the present. How do you survive in the moment when it’s bleak and painful and the past seems so seductive?”

“A hero is someone who, in spite of weakness, doubt or not always knowing the answers, goes ahead and overcomes anyway.”

“He was like an untied balloon that had been inflated and immediately released.”

And about Christopher Reeve, movie director Richard Donner put it perfectly: “He (Reeve) was put on this Earth for… a lot of reasons. He wasn’t just here to be an actor. He was Superman.” But to me, my biggest hero, will always be my mum. I wish her a speedy and swift recovery.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Relax, take it easy.

7^th November 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

A good news message arrived last Thursday morning on my WeChat account. Mum’s operation has been completed and was released from captivity that same day (okay, the N.H.S. are not remotely bad) to recover in the comfort of home.

I always find cycling at night, in Dongguan, a little dazzling and overwhelming to the senses. There are square dances, bad trance music blasting from shops, horns blazing, lights flashing here, there and everywhere. So many people moving around and lots of selfishness and lack of self awareness. Maybe it stems from poor education, and maybe it is just laziness, but to have bright headlights in a built up, often streetlit area, is just plain old stupid. A feature on B.B.C.’s website caught my eye. It turns out full-beam drivers are being punished, by dazzling. Well, if punishments are being chosen for the crimes, good luck to Rhino horn poachers…

In China, just a few kilometres away, last week, over sveral days, the famous Red Arrows debuted at Zhuhai’s China International Air Show 2016. It is safe to fly here, but not safe to drive as a toddler did through traffic .

On Friday, I attended Javier and Carmen’s wedding party at the Treehouse in Batou, Wanjiang. I can safely say, I enjoyed the Vimto far too much. Okay, it was Sangria, but had a kind of fruity-herbal taste to it. For argument’s sake, it was Spanish Vimto, made in China. The food made by the gloriously delicious Al Chile restaurant went down well. Great fun was had by all as we celebrated the coming together of Spanish Harry Potter and his Chinese wife Carmen. A spoof wedding ceremony by Father Aaron has probably lined him up by a lightning strike by God. Whichever God that is. They’re all fictitious in my view. I’m not preaching. Just my view. I departed for midnight, because, A, I am sensible and B, I was pooped, stone cold shattered. The school day previous had been fun but was for the best of it, relentless in pace.

On Saturday, I debuted at Snookball, finishing 4^th, having defeated Eddy (Ireland) and Andre (Ukraine) but lost to all the South Americans, Erick (Brazil), Daniel (Argentina) and Abraham (Mexico). I enjoyed it so much that on the 17^th of December, I expect to enter the Guancheng round of Snookball. It isn’t easy at all, but it is great fun. I said I wouldn’t drink that day but ended up supping three cold Panda Brew ales and a cider from Somerset, alongside a beef and ale pie… and four stilton sausages. Then I had a three-hour evening nap before watching City hammer Middlesbrough 1-1.

On Sunday, I went to HengLi, had lunch, then a massage that involved my arms, legs, feet, shouders and head. It was most relaxing. Then, I returned to Houjie and went to bed extra early.

My checklist of things I must do in China before I leave here, is getting shorter. I haven’t written it anywhere, but it is sat in my mind, so I’ll begin the checklist now…

Prove I am a man. Bù dào chángchéng fēi hӑohàn (不到长城非好汉) or “if you fail to reach the Great Wall you are not a man” as spoken by Chairman Mao. I have been twice. COMPLETED.
Visit Qingdao, a city my Grandfather visited in World War 2.
Fly a kite.
Have a drinking session of alcoholic beverages with local Chinese people and see who wins. COMPLETED. No winners.
Have a fight when paying a restaurant bill. COMPLETED.
Try your best to understand customs and Chinese culture (中国文化Zhōngguó wénhuà). IN PROGRESS. Massively curious.
Visit the heart of Beijing, Tiananmen Square, Monument to the People’s Heroes, the Gate of Heavenly Peace and the Forbidden City. COMPLETED.
Visit a Hutong in Beijing. COMPLETED.
Watch firecrackers and fireworks in China. COMPLETED.
Visit a teahouse. COMPLETED.
Watch an èrhú (二胡) concert. COMPLETED.
Try Square Dancing. COMPLETED.
Attend Dragon Boat Racing. COMPLETED. Several times.
Visit Hong Kong. COMPLETED. Several times.
Try to learn Mandarin Chinese. IN PROGRESS. Still trying.
Eat foods from every province. COMPLETED. Never stop trying new food.
Visit Harbin for the snow and ice festivals. COMPLETED.
Watch a lion dance (舞狮) festival. COMPLETED.
Travel and see Guilin, the Li River and Yangshuo for the Karst mountain landscapes. COMPLETED.
See Giant Pandas. COMPLETED.
Visit Zhangjiajie. COMPLETED.
Swim the South China Sea. COMPLETED.
Experience extreme winter cold in Inner Mongolia. COMPLETED.
Visit dry and wet markets, various other markets too. COMPLETED.
Hum and enjoy the national anthem. Surely, one of the best national anthem themes in the world. COMPLETED.

起来！不愿做奴隶的人们！Qǐlái! Búyuàn zuò núlì de rénmen! Arise, ye who refuse to be slaves!
把我们的血肉，筑成我们新的长城！Bǎ wǒmen de xuèròu zhùchéng wǒmen xīnde chángchéng! With our flesh and blood, let us build a new Great Wall!
中华民族到了最危险的时候，Zhōnghuá Mínzú dào le zùi wēixiǎnde shíhòu, As China faces its greatest peril
每个人被迫着发出最后的吼声。Měige rén bèipòzhe fāchū zùihòude hǒushēng. From each one the urgent call to action comes forth.
起来！起来！起来！Qǐlái! Qǐlái! Qǐlái! Arise! Arise! Arise!
我们万众一心，Wǒmen wànzhòngyīxīn, Millions of but one heart
冒着敌人的炮火，前进！Màozhe dírén de pàohuǒ, Qiánjìn! Braving the enemies’ fire! March on!
前进！
冒着敌人的炮火，前进！Màozhe dírén de pàohuǒ, Qiánjìn! Braving the enemies’ fire! March on!

前进！前进！进！Qiánjìn! Qiánjìn! Jìn! March on! March, march on!

Visit Kunming and Yunnan.

See the Terracotta Warriors.

Visit Hangzhou, “Paradise on Earth”

Check out Jiuzhaigou.

Visit Chengdu.

Visit Shanghai, a city my Grandfather visited in World War 2.

Try Chinese art and caligraphy.

Try Kung Fu and Wushu.

I’ll add more in time.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Lest we forget. The lost lives & futures.

11^th November 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

11^th November is a sombre day in the U.K. At 11 o’clock, bells, canons and clocks mark silence for two minutes. Salutes, moments of remembrance and celebration of ‘The Glorious Dead’ who live on forever in our memories carry a message nationally and beyond to show we will not forget their sacrifice. Our freedom, our choices and our options now have stemmed from their actions, or their inability to have the same options, freedoms or choices we are afforded. For me, I must prepare a very different kind of reflection and silence. I will hold a two-minute’s silence on the roof of school. There will be far more background noise. I will look to the skies and pray (not to gods) to the future, that my generation and generations that follow never need to answer a call, or take a form of action, without choice. I will think about how, in this present day, our human race needs to resolve conflict and end tyranny, for the greater good. I will think of those who came back, sometimes a shadow of their former selves, affected greatly by the stark reality of the ultimate and decisive act of life; death. Without the actions of the few, the many, the turned and unturned, the brave, the bold and the unselfish, we would live in a different world. Times change, attitudes to history evolves. Great losses and their longterm dominoes effect cannot be forgotten. The Great War, the Spanish Flu, World War II, Israel’s fragmented creation, the Russian bloc – a lack of relations between the Western powers and the Kremlin, September 11^th 2001, Afghanistan, Daesh, Syria’s civil war, a list of endless genocides and conflict. It must end sometime, surely? The world orders have shifted, but we cannot forget what many gave to give us our today. Our tomorrow is based on their yesterdays. Their final days. It is important to live on and remember, not at the expense of the moment, but to honour those who fell. I can’t imagine how I would feel if my brothers, sisters, best friends and cousins had to go to war. It’d be hard. I would want to be with them and hope to keep them safe. As great as my imagination is, I have been lucky not to be offered the chance to change my mind’s eye into reality. A stark, dangerous and bleak one. Let’s go forwards. Let’s not forget. Lest we forget.

11^th of November in China is far different to this date experienced back home. In recent years, it has been marked up as 11.11. A clever advertising campaign targeting singletons and those with little common sense to swat promotions away like the annoying fly that it is. Online shopping goes through the roof [About 12 hours into the event on Alibaba, sales had reached 82.4bn yuan ($12.1bn; £10bn)]. Double 11, or Singles’ Day is everywhere, every shop, every phone and spread over social media. The four ones of 11.11 symbolise bare branches. This day was intended to console. An allowance to buy and treat oneself to something luxorious. Shops and websites dived on that pretty swiftly. I won’t be investing. I have my poppy and poppy pin, purchased in advance at Manchester’s Pop-In shop, in summer. The Poppy Appeal, and Remembrance Day, for me, is more important than say Christmas or Easter. Whilst they are great times for family and friends, the absence of partying and solemn reminders of Armistice Day give sober reflection to what we are capable of, and what we should avoid. It isn’t a day of gloom and dullness, but a day of contemplation, a manifestation of memory and tribute. A chance to understand and learn. A chance to remember. Lest we forget.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

The big interview – Felipe Scolari!

14^th November 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

“One must learn by doing the thing, for though you think you know it, you have no certainty until you try.” Aristotle inscribed that, somewhere, and not even in English. Somehow in time it was translated. Time is good. Time changes things. If everything was the same, or simple, it’d be dull. Right?

Felipe Scolari sat upright on a wooden seat, his arms almost draped over the curved armrests. To look at Felipe, revealed little signs of his age. You could say he has been on football management but outwardly shows no strains of the game. Stress may have visited him like a bunch of angry away fans. Not one iota of nervous tension appeared now. I sat opposite him, having been introduced by a member of the kindly P.T.G. Dongguan Veia group. On an assignment from HubHao, I was presented with a wonderful chance to interview.

I led in with the first question, “You started your youth football in 1966, have travelled with many clubs and nations, why did China appeal to you?”

The questions flowed freely, “How do you find Chinese culture?”

“What was it like to find such a large expat community of Brazilians? Did it help you to settle here?”

“How important is having Gaucho culture on your doorstep?”

“Are you afforded more space to be free or anonymous here than in your home country?”

“How does the atmosphere feel to you at Chinese football grounds?”

Then, there was ten questions focused around football, Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, and very casual questions before I ended with, “Why didn’t you want to move to Manchester in 2008?” Scolari had been reported to have been appraoached by Manchester City.

However, the above was a dream. It never happened. Eddy called me at 2 o’clock to say we have an interview with Big Phil. I departed by subway, grabbed a taxi, met our photographer and arrived swiftly at the Tangla Hotel. An hour wait for another film crew there to talk with some amazing and famous Gaucho singers who performed there the night before. On waiting outside we were eventually told, that due to contractual reasons, with his football club (Guǎngzhōu Héngdà Táobǎo/广州恒大淘宝), and possibly the Chinese Super League, Mr Scolari was not allowed to give interviews. He was stood on the otherside of the glass, probably and rightfully unsure as to who I was. He did not want to get into trouble. I said, we could conduct this without using football questions. On this, our liaison man Junior went to discuss. He returned. That idea was also scuttled. With that Ched and I trudged out of the hotel. Nobody had considered the emotional damage of rejection. I can’t believe that the legal aspect of conducting said interview was not checked before I left a warm cup of coffee to go cold at my apartment. In my mind, it was the best interview I had ever prepared for and I’m sure it would have made Mr Scolari laugh and smile. As Oasis sang, “you’ve gotta roll with it…”

So, I went for sausage rolls. Quiche, sausages and cider with blackberries too. Alan’s World in Dongcheng was holding a third anniversary. Anniversaries of businesses in China seem most important. Food, cake and free cider was most welcome. I completed my article from the night before, on PTG’s dinner and dance, and relaxed. Eddy arrived and we nattered a little. I said I would bill HubHao for my abandoned cold coffee.

Anyway, this morning I have emailed Guǎngzhōu Héngdà Táobǎo/广州恒大淘宝 in the hope that they will grant an interview. As Sir Winston Churchill said, “Sometimes doing your best is not good enough. Sometimes you must do what is required.”
再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

September & October 2016’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

Time to chase the showers away

18^th September 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

I was just about to tell a teacher to close the door, however, she looked extremely displeased and angry. I held back. Maybe, next time! I’ve just been asked to go running with grades 7-9 in middle school. The full conversation went something like this:

“Hey John, do you want to join middle school for morning exercise?”

“Is it still hot outside?”

“Yes. Will you join us?”

“Will there be air-conditioning?”

“No. Will you join us?”

“How hot is it?”

“Around 30 degrees. Will you join us?”

“Is it very humid?”

“Yes. Will you join us?”

“Did you see how much I sweated last Wednesday?”

“Yes. Will you join us?”

“Will we stop for water in the 15 minutes of running?”

“No. Will you join us?”

“No, I played football last night and need to recover from that.”

“You will be okay. It will help you lose weight. Will you join us?”

“I feel too hot right now.”

“You can cool down afterwards. Will you join us?”

“I was going to have a meeting with Josie and Analisa.”

“That can wait. Will you join us?”

“I…” Just as I was about to dig up an excuse, in walks my hero, the principal and distracts the conversation. 194cm of me slides down my seat and hides away. I cannot have another class where I feel I am not just swimming in my sweaty clothes, but I am properly drowning and parched as a fish in the desert.

The above was written last Wednesday before lunchtime and the typical school early term photo shoot in intense inhumane 31°C heat with a higher humidity factor than the sea. Last Tuesday, I played football. I can safely say I was sore, the next day. The 16km each way of cycling didn’t help things. I also have invested in a brand spanking new Meizu m3 Note cocky [they ain’t just smart, are they] phone. Compared to my once suitably smart Meizu m1 cocky phone, it has a 6000 Series Aluminum alloy [hopefully bounce resistant]. The Meizu website marketing says “lighter and more elegant” as well as it will “feel incredible to the touch.” It isn’t bad. With the Helio P10 octa-core processor, it can do something and do it on the energy efficiency ratio quite well. Whatever that means. Now, I was sold on the 4100mAh battery. Phones are seldom just over half of that capacity. If it lasts the advertised two days, I will be happy. It has an added security feature, the mTouch 2.1 fingerprint sensor. Now, if only I can remember which digit I set it up on. The 13 megapixel PDAF auto-focus, and the sharpness of my previous phone camera also sold it. The 5.5-inch display is larger and more annoying. Phones are starting to get bigger, again. What really grinds my gears is the mixed use of imperial and metric measurements to sell a product. C’mon, be consistent! The shop keeper’s selling point was continually, “only 163g.” Yes, because 18 stones of idiot can’t lift up 200g of phone! See, mixed metric-imperialistic measurements are annoying. The -10 to 40°C working environment temperature [-40 to 70°C non-working environment temperature] specs with a 95% relative humidity may get a testing.

Last week was the 15^th day of the 8^th lunar calendar month, there’s a mooncake recipe:

Blue Moon Mooncakes ingredients: 250g Icing Sugar; 125g Rice flour (fried); 50g Crisco; a few drops banana essence; 110g cool water (boiled); a few drops of blue colouring; 1kg Red bean paste or lotus paste; Salted egg yolk (optional)

Method: 1) Sift the rice flour and the icing sugar into a mixing bowl. Mix them well. 2) Mix the water, colouring and banana essence thoroughly. 3) Make a well in the centre of the flour. Pour in the liquid mixture and crisco. 4) Stir quickly with a wooden spoon. Keep the dough aside for 20 to 30 minutes. 5) Cut the dough into small round pieces. 6) Prepare the filling into small balls. 7) Put a portion of the filling into the centre of the dough and seal it up. 8) Roll it with some fried rice flour and place the dough into the mold, press it. 9) Let the dough out of the mold carefully. You have a mooncake.

祝你和你的家人中秋快乐Zhù nǐ hé nǐ de jiārén zhōngqiū kuàilè. Wish you and your family a happy Mid-Autumn Festival.

Last Thursday, I joined Eddy, Ruben and Alex with their family to make moon cakes and lanterns. This followed some very tough and deeply sad news. The day was not a good one and the two remaining holiday days were equally low. It started with the news that Tim from our football team, a local musician and generally all-round nice guy had passed away. Having lost one of my best friends Pete, in recent weeks, and with his funeral only being last Friday, my mind has been shrouded by pain and blueness. Emotionally I have been feeling void, on and off, more and more. Almost empty. Devoid of vim. Plagued by doubts and woe. Today, I don’t feel so bad. Captain Morgan got me through Friday evening, with Marcus and some other friends at Irene’s Bar. I needed to let go. How many tears can one set of eyes produce? Just because I am so tall, doesn’t mean a giant cannot feel. I feel. Often all to much. Hurt is hurt and it doesn’t go easily.

So, after the mid-autumn festival event, Eddy and I hooked up at Murray’s Bar in Dongcheng with most of our team. It seemed everyone wanted to be there, to share the grief and shock and be there for one another. To lose somebody so bubbly and spirited at our age is not right. People should die in their seventies or eighties – at least! Not the low end of the thirties. It hits home, how precious life is. How, every moment spent here, in this dimension, amongst these weaving religions and beliefs, that life is your own and you must live it how you seek fit. What waits beyond, is what you wish or believe in. Then, there is the question, an odd one, surreal in fact. Who will miss me when I am gone? What legacy, if any, would I leave? What undreamt dreams did I not delve into? Who do I need to say or do something for? Mostly selfish thoughts, but the mind does not stop, it wanders, it ploughs on, it searches for solace. It drifts in and out of darkness, caressing raw nerves, bringing to the fore both placid and potent worries. It strangles. It chokes. It makes you want to look to the sky and cry like the god Thor, commanding thunder until the Earth is ravaged by power. And then a gentle hand hits your shoulder, welcomes you home. Come back to life. Do you embrace the hand? You have no choice. You must honour the dead. You must bring light to the bleak hours of dreary night. Others need you. You need others.

And sadly, it has to be mentioned, but the tragic passing of Bahman Golbarnezhad in the Paralympics adds a cloud of upset to an otherwise splendid tournament. My condolences to his family and friends.

Meanwhile in Wukan, have a look at this news that was blocked in China. Still corruption related, have a gander at Harambe McHarambeface. And in tune with this article, I can safely say I have yet to see any live Paralympic coverage, sadly. Right, I am off to have a drink and get lucky. This week, involving today, is going to be a six-day school week. I am mostly tempted by the Guangzhou derby. R&F play Evergrande in the Chinese F.A. Cup semi-final second leg. It could be a good game. Derby games this month seem to all be of entertainment value – the Manchester derby carried some bite for sure.

It hasn’t rained in days, yet I feel it is time to chase the showers away.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

The first smile after loss

8^th October 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Last night, I struggled to sleep, the Blue Mountain Coffee from a local coffee shop (Tea Story) at lunchtime was far too potent. It was probably 4 o’clock in the morning when I rolled over and shut my eyes properly. Needless to say, I awoke startled and sleepy this morn. Not ideal. With some good green tea, grapefruit black tea and Chinese chestnuts (Zhōngguó bǎnlì 中国板栗) from a colleague, I am determined to end the day energised and awake. An early night is called for. And I suspect the lunchtime nap was needed.

Unlike last year (A brief word from the Department for Common Sense), I have been welcomed back to school with two morning classes following the seven days off. After this day, another six will follow. A 17 class week is now a 23 class week with the extra lessons of Wednesday making up today (on a Saturday) and Thursday tomorrow (on a Sunday). This does mean classes 506, 501, 504, 804 and 704 will be a class ahead for the foreseeable future but that isn’t all bad. If a class doesn’t work so well, I can tweak it or abandon the lesson plan altogether, without too much damage or loss. The added Grade 5 V.I.P. lesson does mean “A pirate went to sea” has changed to “a student went to school” as a song and will include more games or general creativity pushing. I want my students to be confident enough to try creating their own lyrics and actions. Creativity is innovation.

So, on the Friday morning, before school had a week long holiday, a door in my office had a broken lock, no one could get out of the door to the left. It is a fair walk using the right hand door. So the handyman arrived, via the opened door. He looks at the lock and handle on that door. I point and tell him to go to the other door, telling him “this is the one.” He looks at the door and says, “no, I was told this one.” He has opened, shut, locked and unlocked it a dozen times. Then, after ten minutes, he walked away. In the meanwhile, I couldn’t use the left door, and a half dozen teachers walked the long way around. The problem was resolved a full hour later, when the school’s handyman returned, didn’t look me in the eye once or in my direction. I think he had lost face. Personally, I would have laughed about it, no weakness in that, in my mind.

This last week, I’ve spent a few hours watching the highlights of the Rio 2016 Paralympics. A record haul for Team G.B. and a tournament so well received by spectators, following a subdued opening ceremony with numbers that barely unfolded. Kadeena Cox did great in cycling and athletics, and her medal was received with a beautiful life-affirming smile. Dame Sarah Storey flew the flag of Manchester’s Velodrome in impeccable fashion. Athletes such as Morteza Mehrzad, Daniel Dias, the Canadian sprinter who wants to be a stand up comedian… so many great stories and athletes. The Channel 4 (U.K. television broadcaster) show, The Last Leg, is hearty, warm and full of life’s zest. Hosted by Aussie Adam Hills, flanked by Josh Widdicombe and Alex Brooker, it has assisted with a week of self-indulged rest and physiotherapy on my troubled groin strain. I started yoga last week. In some circles, my sexuality might be questioned. Not that I have answered it publicly. My business is my business. No, I need to prolong fitness until the day my nails still grow but my heart beats not.

During Grade 5’s VIP second to last class before the break, several girls and one boy walked away when I had my back to them. It took some time to get them back. The 21 students were divided into teams of 7. The first team shown their song, then the second but the third team ran away!!! When I asked saw them, I asked them back. They did not join in. I don’t know the girl’s name, she wears pink glasses, I think. She is proving most difficult to control. She is the Stripe to the many students who behave as Gizmo. I printed 25 song sheets before class, and within minutes, before I had chance to explain what we were doing several students had ripped up the sheets of paper.

Three attempts were had at finding The Treehouse, in Batou village of Wanjiang. I walked past twice, lost. Third time lucky? The Friday evening before the holiday, I tried again. Oh yes! Behind the old wooden window frames and panel doors, surrounding a concrete tree dotted by real live plants, a stage area rose with a bar off to the immediate right. I met the owner, having bugged David for directions, and immediately relaxed with a wonderful BBQ buffet (around 150RMB) but well worth it for the salmon, steak, pork, sausages, proper mashed potato and gravy to die for. With live music and plenty to do here, or see, or relax, I really like Treehouse. I’ll be back to Batou. Now I know the way! It is by one of the small lakes, the one inland a bit and down many alleyways, or ginnels as we say in the North (England, not Game of Thrones), by a stoney car park. Top place. Top people. The added bonus of live music in Hip-Hop duo, The Mighty Orphans, helped. However, they were very much late and the local police policed and ceased the loud beats before the witching hour of midnight. They’d only been on thirty or so minutes. It was as bad as finding out that replacing the artificial colouring in blue M&Ms requires twice the amount of the current global supply available.

I had a lazy day or two in the last week. It was spent indulging in some movies. One movie that stood out, considering my initial apprehension about this love story, was Remember Me (IMDB contains spoilers!). Anything with stars of Twilight like Robert Pattinson, usually makes me steer well clear. A delightful story with an ending that makes you think far more than most movies. How did I miss that?! The second movie of the moment for me was A Hologram for The King starring the great Tom Hanks. A greta movie and a welcome distraction to our currently trumped up little world.

To quote the character Tyler in the movie Remember Me, “Gandhi said that whatever you do in life will be insignificant, but it’s very important that you do it because nobody else will.”

Oh, and I have been helping HubHao magazine to renovate their website. All dead links have been removed. New menus have been added and the general look has been tweaked to improve accessibility. There have been a few problems along the way but, we’re getting there. Wherever there is. Here’s my article page (56 pieces, plus other pieces affixed to other authors, whereby we have worked together on two parts – see the Case Against Flying in China), where I dropped the name John, in a more international feel.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Author’s Posts

Arts Review – Stewart Kohinga & Bethany Peele

Restaurant Review – Lauren’s Pizza & Bakery

Pizza, that one sanctuary of cheese and delights some like to call heaven. Italy’s gift to the world has mutated into so many forms, some even believe it to be an…

Arts Review – Magic Island

Few things go better together than the summer and a music festival. Unfortunately, in our region, however, there are surprisingly few festivals. So when HubHao heard…

An Alternative Dragon Boat Race

During Dragon Boat Festival you can see races all around Dongguan, but none quite like the one that takes places in Qiaotou Village in Houjie. John Acton explored a…

Arts Review – The Big Band Theory

Better late than never is a phrase coined for such times. After three soothing sets by local starlet Angie, The Big Band Theory arrived at Murray’s Irish Bar, around…

On The Terraces Part I – Blue Dreams

There are those that like to watch football, there are fair weathered fans, there hardcore supporters, and then there is John Acton. There are few who have supported…

On The Terraces Part II – Red Screams

There are those that like to watch football, there are fair weathered fans, there hardcore supporters, and then there is John Acton. There are few who have supported…

Dongguan International Football League – Round 8

Every team has faced every other team at least once. Now, in the eighth week of the Dongguan International Football League the battles for titles and pride really came…

Dongguan International Football League – Round 5

With hot anticipation comes pressure. With pressure, comes passion and the roar of raging pride in battle. All three mouth-watering ties in round 5 of the Dongguan…

Arts Review – Mark Lotz And A Fula’s Call

After a long delay, the band, well, three quarters of the band, got under way. They started in the smoky room with a sheepish apology.

Dongguan International Football League – Round 4

Hash Harriers – A drinking club with a running problem

The Dongguan Hash Harriers is the most fun sports group in Dongguan that you’ve probably not heard of. Mixing adventures in orienteering with beers with friends, the…

Shopper’s Guide to Shoe Market

Big Foot Strikes Again With size 50 foot, finding shoes has never been easy for John Acton. That was until he found the Kangmei Shoe City Mall in Houjie. In the…

Arts Review – Mr Walrus

In the latest Arts Review, John Acton went to the Brown Sugar Jar on Christmas Day to hear Mr. Walrus play a mix of Oasis and The Beatles. A medley of British rock…

Tips For The Classroom

In Tips For The Classroom Part 3, John Acton looks at education and teaching in China specifically. Five new teaching tips Often we can learn from trial and error,…

The Case For And Against Having An Ayi

To clean or not to clean? In the case for and against having an Ayi we look at cleaning your home in Dongguan and if having an Ayi is the right thing to do. The…

Badasses Of Chinese History – Yue Fei

Yue Fei – Utmost, Loyalty, Serve and Nation When talking about loyalty in Chinese history, Yue Fei’s name will surely come up. In the latest Badasses Of Chinese…

Shopper’s Guide To Bike Street

Find the bike for you in the old streets of Guancheng Our city is full of cyclists. Be they locals riding beaters trying to find a way to beat the rush hour jams to…

Restaurant Review – Revolving Restaurant

The best view in Dongguan The Houjie International Hotel is one of the most famous landmarks in Houjie. Whether you’re a guest of the hotel or a casual visitor, the…

Cycling From Chengdu To Moscow

One cyclist’s journey on the Silk Road Last summer, Alexis Pineau, a teacher based in Dongguan, went on an amazing journey. All by himself he cycled from Chengdu to…

Bar Review – 28 Over Par

Shoppers’ Guide To Wanjiang Sportswear Street

Customized team kits and bargain sportswear Back home, high street sports shops resemble fashion houses and fashion houses sometimes cross the great divide into sports….

Badasses Of Chinese History – Hua Mulan

The myth behind the Disney movie China has one of the longest and most interesting histories in the world. From rebels who thought they were Jesus to beauties that…

Winners Bar – Bar Review

A winning blend of English authenticity The doors were opened wide by two ladies dressed in what appeared to be outfits like those worn by the Royal Guards outside of…

Going For The Bullseye

The growing popularity of Darts in Dongguan Steel tip darts has always held a special place in many of the bars in Dongguan. The introduction of soft tip darts has seen…

How To Survive Going To A Cinema

The cinema is a place of magic, emotions and white-knuckle rollercoaster rides. Often many battles are on-screen and increasingly as East meets West clashes engulf the big screen movie theatres. Here…

Tips For The Classroom

Often we can learn from trial and error, observing others, or good old fashioned teaching. There’s no right way or wrong way, we all develop our own style to learn,…

Atlantic Attraction at Brown Sugar Jar – Arts Review

The atmospheric intro quickly faded into a homely vibrant song. The kind a popular TV show could easily mould into a soundtrack. Before long lead singer Kevin, complete…

Badasses of Chinese History: Zhuge Liang

China has one of the longest and most interesting histories in the world. From rebels who thought they were Jesus to beauties that would put Helen of Troy to shame. Each…

Restaurant Review – Munchalots

I love food. Food experts probably scrutinize food far too deeply. I personally pick satisfaction above all else. In an effort to show you my writing and taste has some…

Tips for the Classroom

Often we can learn from trial and error, observing others, or good old fashioned teaching. There’s no right way or wrong way, we all develop our own style to learn,…

Xiegang, Huangjiang, Fenggang, Chang’an, Machong, Shijie, Zhongtang, Gaobu, Qingxi, Hongmei

8^th October 2016

Xiegang Town

谢岗镇

Xiègǎng Zhèn Xiegang

http://heredg.com/2014/04/town-guide-xiegang/

http://www.hubhao.com/silver-bottle-mountain-places-of-dongguan/

Huangjiang Town

黄江镇

Huángjiāng Zhèn Huangjiang

Chang’an Town

长安镇

Cháng’ān Zhèn Chang’an

http://heredg.com/2014/11/changan/

Fenggang Town

凤岗镇

Fènggǎng Zhèn Fenggang

Machong Town

麻涌镇

Máchǒng Zhèn Machong

http://heredg.com/2014/12/machong/

Shijie Town

石碣镇

Shíjié Zhèn Shijie

Gaobu Town

高埗镇

Gāobù Zhèn Gaobu

中堂镇

Zhōngtáng Zhèn

Qingxi Town

清溪镇

Qīngxī Zhèn Qingxi

Hongmei Town

洪梅镇

Qishi Town

企石镇

Qǐshí Zhèn Qishi

http://heredg.com/2014/09/qishi/

L5B: Guangcheng Culture Square – Yuehui Park

Main stops: Guangcheng Culture Square, Keyuan Garden, South China Mall, Dongguan Central Bus Station, Jichuan Middle School, Daojiao Gynasisum, Daojiao Middle School, Yuehui Garden

Devoid of common sense?

11^th October 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Severe Tropical Storm Aere (Julian), located South and East of Hong Kong, slowly moving North and East, is due to affect local weather, judging by the five day forecast of rain. This’ll break the monotony of an otherwise dry period of time since I returned to China in (very) late August. Compared to last year, the region has had far fewer storms and typhoons, so far this year. This isn’t a bad thing. This year the typhoons didn’t develop until after July 3^rd, a joint record since the western Pacific Ocean started naming typhoons (in 1944, when Task Force 38 bore the brunt of one such typhoon, Cobra). Reading how the 中国气象局 (Zhōngguó Qìxiàng Jú) China Meteorological Administration (CMA), joined the World Meteorological Organization (WMO – 世界气象组织) is equally stormy in it’s history. On a disaster front two earthquakes have been logged in Guangdong’s area since records began. The first in 1918 and the second in 1969. I mention this because over the years I have noticed many Earthquake Shelters around the city, yet nobody has ever heard of such a thing afflicting the city. That said, there are many signs for Air Raid Shelters and warning systems. Last properly used in 1945, thankfully. Nobody likes disaster but at least it seems here, they are prepared for the unexpected.

On Saturday evening, I had a short ride on my bike. As I was cycling past the Houjie Cultural Park, I noticed many kites tangled on the neighbouring powerlines. The 110,000kV cables had at least 5 kites. I glanced to my right and spotted a dizen smaller kits drifting up and up. It dawned on me that with the wind blowing South East then most kites without the requisite height needed to pass the pylons were in striking distance. The park does not have one sign to warn of this danger. I’ve always wanted to fly a huge kite here, I will one day, but not on a park with exposed powerlines in close proximity. Some of these kites are so large they require a cable to launch them – and others have lights in the reel and cable that soars upwards for use at night. Coupled with so many glass coated razor sharp kite wires, I will stand clear of those ones! Kite flying (放风筝) is popular here. Let’s hope it doesn’t maim anyone like competitive kite-fighting events in India and Pakistan! 墨子Mòzǐ and 鲁班Lǔ Bān (the patron saint of Chinese builders and contractors) certainly created a legacy from the simplest construct using silk fabric (sail material); fine, high-tensile-strength silk (flying line); and resilient bamboo (a durable, lightweight framework). The dream of humans flying could have began here.

Following my observations of the kite craziness, last night I cycled to football training. The number of motorbikes riding towards me, against the flow of traffic, without lights and often with people riding them whilst talking on the phone didn’t just annoy me. I feltg my blood boil. In a particularly dark section of road, I was too distracted looking for potholes and almost ploughed into me head on. They had no helmet on too. Just like the dozen or so teachers who came to school by powerful and speedy e-Bikes. I hate e-Bikes, and having heard of a man who was castrated by an exploding lithium battery mounted under his bike seat, you’ll never get me on one. I’d tried them before that tale, and they do nothing for me. No heart, no power from your own engine. They are cold electronic machines.

Today, I am having a gander at the news, Trump and Clinton certainly seem to be enjoying their botter debates but most concerning for me is Russia’s stance on Syria. Deploying and spouting threats about using their nuclear arsenal is not good for the west, the east or the middle east. It is like in some schools, the teachers who wrap their metal rulers in plastic tape and padding to use it as punishment. Provactive and an act of threat, caused to create terror and fear. In reality, if they want to cause fear, theyshould just replicate China’s national trainline website in English. The delightfully obvious address of http://www.12306.cn/ cannot be explained by anyone. Nothing says train travel like 12306. Unexplainable. After clicking the website you’re greeted by an overwhelming array of clickable links. Illustrations can guide you, but simple is not present in any degree. Thankfully, WeChat portals like Guide in China have produced helpful tutorials. In my mind, you shouldn’t have to learn how to travel. It should be easier than opening a bottle of milk. A country needs its people to travel and commute to boost the economy, surely.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

P.S. I should have mentioned I asked superb DJ Aussie Ben to teach me how to play the drums. We’ve yet to work out a first session, because I am too busy.

#201: The 201st post

12^th October 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

201 funfact? Year 201 (CCI) was a common year starting on Thursday (link will display the full calendar) of the Julian calendar. At the time, it was known as the Year of the Consulship of Fabianus and Arrius (or, less frequently, year 954 Ab urbe condita – from the founding of the City – Rome). The denomination 201 for this year has been used since the early medieval period, when the Anno Domini calendar era became the prevalent method in Europe for naming years.

Closer to adopted home, in the year 201, 曹操 (Cao Cao) defeated袁绍 (Yuán Shào) and we’re not talking football. Also, 谯周(Qiáo Zhōu) was born.

Last night I went to see the Blue Man Group, at Guangzhou’s Opera House. On the way back, I had a private driver. My driver gunned the accelator following a deafening bang. A lengthy articulated lorry swerved our way. The wheel trims casting huge bright sparks amongst the smoke and debris of a tyre no longer in existence. My driver did not glance left or right knowingly, he aimed the Chevrolet directly along the outside lane and squeezed beyond the cab of the truck as in crossed all three lanes. Inches of space at the final moment. The suction of air from the lorry seemingly pulling us over. I yelped, “Oh bugger.” A typical British response or a noise to hide the fact I was close to defecating in my trousers?

Today’s temperature is 24°C. Every teacher and student seem to have an extra layer of clothes on. Today’s high should be 25°C. Tomorrow’s forecast high is 29°C and by the weekend it is expected to be 32°C. Little Amy, a teacher in grade 5, has asked me to close the door, “It is so cold.”

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

The trials and tribulations of life: Justin Bieber

18^th October 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

It pains me, deep down. It slashes at every nerve. A dulling of the senses. There is wool over my eyes. I can no longer see clearly. A mist shrouds my presence, here on Earth. Or have I moved on? Do I no longer exist? Am I gripped by pain and suffering of an incomprehensible nature? I have commited a previously unfathomable and inconceivable act. Most perplexing in nature. What little astuteness and acumen I had, wiped away. Gone. My aptitude will fail every test going forward. Game over. I just completed a Microsoft Powerpoint 365 presentation. Other overhead projection display software formats are available. This suits my needs. On this particular recently completed presentation, my cleverness sank. Nullified. The presentation for Grade 5 is focused on the following keywords:

moose, Canada, grizzly bear, wolf, wolves, bears, skiing

In explaining where Canada is, I’ve opted for the maple leaf flag, Mounties, a word map highlighting said country, and sadly had to mention Justin Bieber and Celine Dion. Send me to outer space for my sins.

Space, the final frontier? Well, China launched some blokes up there. I hope they contribute to international knowledge of space travel. With their military might and scientific innovation, this recent launch of Shénzhōu 11 (神舟十一号; Shénzhōu means divine land) could be groundbreaking. In just 13 years, China has now sent 14 of its people into orbit [in just 6 missions] and inside only 17 years of space travel, the plan to open a space station full time. 181 satellites and the odd bit of space junk have also been sent up. As Chinese astronauts sit up there, I wonder, how will they eat noodles and rice at the beautifully named Tiāngōng èrhào (天宫二号; Heavenly Palace 2). And will they know about the elephant rescue in Yúnnán (云南)?

Closer to home, I enjoyed the Blue Man Group last week, as is evident on my arts review for HubHao.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

20^th October 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

To paraphrase Bane in his battle against The Dark Knight, “Oh, you think rain is your ally. But you merely adopted the rain; I was born in it, moulded by it. I didn’t see the sun until I was already a man, by then it was nothing to me but BLINDING!” The squally weather hung over us like the looming shadows of the Catholic Church denying wrongdoings of a paedophilic nature. Whether lodged on a weather map, hiding transgressions behind vacant eyes or stinging heads through pelting rain, the weather yesterday and the day before was properly up to no good. Typhoon Sarika rained off football training on Tuesday and fitness training last night. It was epicly torrential.

The beauty of life continues, mostly indoors, sheltered, warm and dry. On Tuesday evening in Mandarin class we were supposed to learn the song Mòlìhuā (Jasmine Flower), however it was spent going over some basic revision. That said the phrase, “Let me think” was given to us, and I plan to use it: Ràng wǒ xiǎng xiǎng (让我想想).

hǎo yī duǒ mĕi lì de mò li huā (What a beautiful jasmine flower) 好一朵美丽的茉莉花
hǎo yī duǒ mĕi lì de mò li huā (What a beautiful jasmine flower) 好一朵美丽的茉莉花
fēn fāng měi lì mǎn zhī yā (Sweet-smelling, beautiful, stems full of buds) 芬芳美丽满枝桠
yòu xiāng yòu bái rén rén kuā (Fragrant and white, everyone praises) 又香又白人人夸
ràng wǒ lái jiāng nǐ zhāi xià (Let me pluck you down) 让我来将你摘下
sòng gěi bié rén jiā (Give to someone else) 送给别人家
mò li huā ya mò li huā (Jasmine flower, oh jasmine flower) 茉莉花呀茉莉花

What’s on TV tonight? Oh, politics and corruption, is it House of Cards? No, it is a documentary about China’s corruption crackdown. If British politics did such a show, it’d be called BBC News 24, and show at every available minute of the day. Still, it beats deadly clashes over taxation on caterpillars, or dating in Ikea after collecting your pension. I’ll be heading to Murray’s FC’s football training, weather permitting.

As squeakie bums and messages galore about Typhoon Haima (熱帶風暴海馬) flood my phone and the possibility of a day at school being cancelled tomorrow, there is a beautiful near clear sky outside. Calm. Windless. It is 29°C, not too humid and all seems well.
P.S. the title is taken from William Shakespeare’s MacBeth.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Peter Ridyard [2nd August 1983 – 13th August 2016]

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)1 Comment

Peter Ridyard [2nd August 1983 – 13th August 2016]

16^th September 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Good old Pete, good old wee man. A short arse, an annoyance as a kid alongside his clan of brothers. “Millions of Ridyards all ynder one roof…” I’d sing mocking the Toys ‘R’ Us theme tune. It was never aimed in bitterness. Not once. This was a sign of typical Mancunian knobhead-like affection towards our very own band of brothers, of sorts. We were close growing up and every after school evening involved avoiding homework or trying to break away from being grounded. Not just Pete, or Dan, but me too. We got in trouble often but we never aimed to hurt anyone. We never did. Well maybe the odd golf cart driver chasing us tha managed to crash into a tree. Hell, Pete took one in the back from a low-flying golf ball. That did teach us not to nip over a golfcourse on a short cut.

Pete leaves behind too many souls. He was a Dad, Partner and stepfather amongst his tribe of brothers and sisters. Being a popular uncle and brother-in-law was natural to him. He just knew how to be entertaining without trying so much. Every catch up with Pete, even as we both grew up and did adult things like move to another place, get real jobs and develop mature lifestyles, catching up was awesome. Every year we’d share stories like we were together yesterday. There’d be no hiding things or holding back. Between the best of friends everything was mentioned. The unwritten rule of spilling the beans or exposing raw emotions was a certainty. Pete was a fun guy, he could make an uneasy situation comfortable. It may have involved a fart joke or some social commentary about my height. Between me and Pete, we always had “Little and large” banter. Always. Again, it was never meant in hurt, just respect because for a small bugger, he knew how to have a big heart. Even after a few growing up fights between each other, we remained friends. Jumping and hopping along “the pipes” or “the monkey bridge”, bounding over “the brickie”, drill-marching at air cadets (“Form a squadron of three wanks.” I’ve never heard Pete laugh so much at James Cliff’s ill-advised instructions), wandering the streets of Reddish, Levenshulme, Burnage, the Heatons, Gorton, etc. Seemingly endless days.

Pete and Dan convinced me to start trick or treating. I wasn’t and still can’t confess to have ever enjoyed Halloween, however, when it comes to harmless fun [don’t knock a strangers house, was a lesson mum taught me early on], Dan and Pete managed to override my instinct a few times. I mean, what harm can trick or treating be as schools go back in the first week of September? Or taking a Guy Fawlke doll out mid-October? It tied in well with our carol singing commencing early November. As Pete said, it wasn’t begging, it was more something to do for entertainment. We were entertained and it kept us from playing knock a door run and other daring dares. I’m not sure how Robert Hanna was caught by a guy wearing only his underpants, in knock a door run… or how a scarecrow the size of a giant ended up sat on top of Kwik Save’s roof… but I am sure, sat star-gazing on Cringle Fields, one late night (after 9pm, back in the day), Pete and I chatted about the future. It remains the deepest conversation I had ever shared with him. He was an intelligent but often lazily placed character, who over the years, I noticed his maturity etching through and a toughness of character biting away his inner demons.

There are so many tales of our adventures, Dan, Pete and I walked back from Hough End (the other side of the world/far end of Manchester) via Heaton something or other, and I ended up falling down a manhole cover and breaking my leg. As I cried my eyes out, Pete laughed, “John was this tall, and now he ain’t tall.” He copied my disappearing action whilst Dan and I locked in on the laughter too. I genuinely forgot the pain. That night’s bath, I stretched my leg inwards and I felt the crack surge with venom. Mum took me to the hospital at Manchester M.R.I. where a fracture was spotted. Had Pete not got me laughing, we’d have wasted an ambulance journey and some tear-filled tissues, earlier that day.

One Christmas Day, I received a Falcon, silver, mountain bike, from mum. Dan had his new bike. Pete had his chicken chaser. On a ride down Lancashire Hill into the town centre of Stockport, it transpired that the bike was loosely assembled. I flew head over tit into the ground. Pete helped me up. We laughed. The next day we all cycled to Lyme Park and back. Not bad for kids under 15 with no sense of direction other than where we went stomping.

In summer 2011, Pete, Dan and I went camping near to Morecambe and Hess Bank. As no campfires were permitted on the camping grounds, we hiked up the coast, set a camp under a tree and gathered driftwood. Messers Jaeger and Beer joined us. So, did Brian the cow. Pete named the cow. A lesson in cow anatomy was followed by a surreal debate about cow gender equality. After our Blitzkrieg-style bonfire, we sleaked back to the campsite. Dan slept in his car. Pete farted him out of the tent. I struggled to use any air in the tent. The door was zipped wide open all night. Gnats versus Pete’s farts. Gnats was favoured. The next morning as we leisurely woke, a audden explosion from a nearby tent’s gas cooker rattled out. Pete ran to check the man as we all grabbed fire extinguishers. Thankfully nothing too serious. Fearless and caring, Pete checked, double checked and then we slipped away having done all that was possible, beyond the “Slow Children Crossing” sign that seemed so inappropriate, and made Pete laugh. The following summer involved a wild camping trip with Adam, Steven, Peter, Dan and I. A spot of rafting, numerous campfires, tales over a shopping trolley full of drinks and nattering made for two very good nights indeed.

你是我最好的朋友之一。本周五，当你的身体安息时，我和你的家人都会与你的精神同在。我们一起长大，你，我和Dan。你们两个是亲兄弟，我不是。然后我们却像亲兄弟一样。我会永远怀念您我的朋友。

You were one of my best friends. This Friday, when your body is laid to rest, I am with your spirit and your family. We grew up together. Me, you and Dan. You two were brothers. I was not. Yet we are brothers. I’ll miss you forever my friend.

给彼特，好好安息我的朋友.

To Peter, rest well my friend.

On Friday September 16th Peter will be received into Blackley Crematorium Centre Chapel for service and committal at 2.00pm. Family flowers only please, donations preferred to the Oliver Ridyard trust fund. All further enquiries and donations contact Michael Kennedy personally at Greater Manchester Funeral Service Moston on 0161 681 1864.

We owe it to those who we have lost, to share memories and carry their spirits on. Onwards and upwards together.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

July & August 2016’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

Bloggered off, blog on

19^th July 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Some time has been spent avoiding writing and generally procrastinating. The blog’s break is over. I land on the 30th of July (having departed by Etihad Airways on the 29^th from Hong Kong). That day, I’m thinking Colwyn Bay FC v Manchester City FC All Stars MCFC, then on the 31st Manchester City Women are at home… Mum and the tribe are taking us off to sunny Llanddeusant, Ynys Mon (Angelsey) for a few days. I’ll sort out trips to catch up with the tribe, Morecambe, Nat and her dogs (not including Stephen), Kate and Peter, the Lakes to see brother Daniel and his parish… so many people to see – and places to go before I fly on the penultimate day of August (30^th).

This week is fairly relaxed with some voluntary work, followed by a trip to Beijing at the weekend to watch the Manchester derby on Monday night, then back to Shenzhen for City v Borussia Dortmund – and then a quick run back, grab things and fly back to Europe… or the U.K… or whatever home is to be called going forward…

I was and am European. I was and am British. I was and will aways be Mancunian. I am human. In these days of uncertainty, wear a smile on your face and do what you can do best. Things are out of our control most of the time. Fight for your family and friends. Welcome all. Stick two fingers up at those who seek to profit at yoru loss.

What really annoys me, when I ask someone, why they voted out, which I respect their choice, their arguments are usually, “bloody foreigners take our jobs.” ANd some of these people I knew from school are too busy dealing pot and crack or stealing their livings to actually work in jobs that keep the country moving. Do they really thing the EU vote was all about shutting our borders? Twonks. Utter numpties. Let them work out the future with respect to roaming charges for mobile phones, disease control, border control (how to tackle the fairly peaceful frontline of Europe located in Ireland), disembarkment of Scotland, Wales (£4bn since 2000 of EU finding) surely will depart, NI’s future, the NHS, Euro-tunnel, passport agreements, HK’s full handover, visa free travel to non-EU states for EU citizens, freedom of rights, conformity of electrical appliances, safety regulations, GM foods, etc

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Farewell to Our Pete

14^th August 2016

To the unfinished dens and dams, to the days spent wandering aimlessly, the chicken chaser bike rides, the two for one deals at the cinema, our special bonfires and many more wonderful memories and moments. I want to say thank you, properly thank you, from my heart. You were a little bastard at times but you were always there for me as a friend. Whereas geography and life has kept us apart, I’ve always felt strength knowing you and Dan were there for me as a friend. The best of friends, even in fights and stupidity. You stood by me and helped me in primary school, like no other. Little and large. A boy bigger than me in spirit and fearless throughout. Whilst I cry now, it is a selfish need to want to share banter with you and want to laugh, because you were always the funniest friend I had. Nobody wants to say goodbye, ever. Nobody should. We grew up, eh, lad? No more pipes to spring around on, and we’ll not camp no more in the wild. You were a little shit, and I am glad our paths collided, I’m glad we got into trouble and I’m glad we learnt along the way. I’ll miss you, and I’ll try to do something in your memory with your family and friends. Thanks Pete! We’ll make dens again one day, I promise you that!

I’ll be a man in the shadows

13^th September 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

The sirens are screaming, and the fires are howling, way down in the valley tonight… well not quite that. However, somebody has left both doors open in my office. I’ll be a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye, and a blade shining oh so bright. There’s a bloody sign on the door in big Chinese characters and smaller English letters, saying “Please keep the door closed at all times.” I have relocated from Grade 9’s top floor office (5^th floor in Chinese terms; 4^th floor in English terms; the ground floor is the first floor here) to the second floor (locally). This benefits my ankles and knees greatly, especially on a day after playing football. The teachers in my new office went out of their way to write the blooming sign. My new office is located between Grade 7’s class one and Grade 7’s class 2. The students and teachers often use this second floor passageway office between classes. It can resemble an episode of Scooby Doo where the crimefighters are chasing a disguised criminal. Okay, so why am I so bloody hot [and I don’t mean gorgeous]? Well, the doors (plural) are left open again. The teachers in my office are the worst offenders. The students close the door everytime! The teachers here are so lazy to close doors.

So, I landed on the 31^st of August, beginning school the following day. I did not have classes on the 1^st of 2^nd of September as they had yet to finalise the school timetable. When the finally finalised the school timetable, there were numerous clashes of classes between my primary school and middle school timetables. So, I fixed them. On the first Sunday back, I trained with Murray’s F.C. and haven’t been seen since. I thought I did well, considering the summer break but haven’t had time to hook up since. The first week involved seven grade five classes (I’ve been relegated down a grade as grade 6 no longer have a foreign teacher), four grade seven classes (half of the number of classes as per previous semesters) and four grade eight classes. V.I.P. classes (two of them) will begin this week (the second week).

There are just three foreign teachers including myself now. Analisa joins from the next door kindergarten and is joined by new intern Josie (from Stockton-on-Tees). The pair split grades 1-4 classes and the corresponding V.I.P. classes between them. We are joined by Jack Armstrong, once of Oxford Kingdom International School, as our foreign teacher team leader. My 17 classes a week with limited responsibility is odd but it allows me more preparation time. Mustn’t grumble. Especially seeing as some classes have gone from 34 to 55 students and most now top out at 45 students! The school is the same size, yet student numbers are far higher!

Mid-Autumn Festival is this week. A short break from Thursday until Saturday is on the cards, meaning a six day working week from Sunday.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

June 2016’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

Under their noses a Womble may be.

1^st June 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

After today, just 16 working days remain at Dao Ming Foreign Language School. As June becomes July, I don’t know what the next step is. Should I stay or should I go? If I go there may be trouble, if I stay there will be double. On Monday, I had my 1291^st and 1292^nd classes here. Class 801 and 803 get this joy. I was tempted to set off a party popper and inflate one balloon to mark the occasion. At this juncture, my head is an enigma wrapped in a mystery shrouded by a cloud of doubt and uncertainty. I’m not remotely worried anymore. I’ve resigned my mind to the future all being a big pile of steaming shit, stacked so high that I no longer worry about disappointment. Actually, I have a regret in life. Going to university. I wish I had never gone so soon. The student loan debt sits above me. Being away from the U.K. has caused a rise in the figure I owe. I will and have paid for it in two and half years, without actually paying anything off. I wish I had worked after college and found a more financially viable way to pay for my education. In some ways I am proud to have studied – and in other ways I feel bitter as hell. Actually, my degree was too low a result to gain a job teaching English in Japan and South Korea. So, I have a non-universal university degree of varying degrees of value. At least my credit score won’t be affected if I don’t look after my parents when they grown old…

With respect to the M.C.F.C. seasoncard, I am going to cancel it. I cannot find anyone to look after it and I fear if I return to the U.K., I won’t be able to afford £600 for a season (plus all that goes with it). Premier League and even Football League football, a working class game, is pricing out fans left, right and centre with its hyperinflated prices. Also, no one can reastically look after it. Sad days, it will be impossible to get a seasoncard in the future. I had tried to relocate to the £300 seating areas but 7 hours of failed Skype calls and hold music let me down. I never even had a response from City’s customer services. A two-day relocation window, whilst I am located in China – and no one was free to call in person…. ah well, all the joy of going to the football is over.

Last week, I fell out of love with football again. After recording Murray’s F.C. Maine Road’s first win of the Dongguan International Football League campaign (a 4-1 win over Winner’s F.C.) and a win against Poka’s Brazil F.C., I played a game too many on Saturday. Our depleted team had a hammering. The kind where everything went wrong. Two of their goals deflected off me. We conceded a dubious penalty and we had a player sent off midway through the first half. At 2-0 down with only ten men, we went in at the break three goals against us. After this break, we used our only two subs. The opposition team used 7 subs in the second half. Within five minutes of the restart my right leg and hamstring tightened to near immobility and our keeper made some terrible errors of judgment. We lost 10-0 to Guangdong Football Academy and deservedly so. The Guangdong stage of a national tournament to elect a third flight of football in China may not feature Murray’s F.C. With one team already on 6 points and just three more games to go for them, we are facing an uphill battle. Each province has this competition and the top teams will all form a national league. We cannot field more than 7 international (foreign) players. We managed 6 on Saturday. Miguel [Spain], Ruben [Spain], Alex [Spain], Yura [Ukraine (red carded)], Barry [Nigeria], Juan [Colombia] and I [U.K.] joined 6 Chinese players (Dean and Buffon I knew of before) and we did not gel. The heavy second half rain made play sluggish but we were poorly organised and with one player less, dragged left, right and centre. It was a teasing game by a team of 16 to 19-year old boys far fitter and sharper. Hats off to them, they earned their comprehensive win. The age difference did not balance out against our collective game experience. 步步高昇 (bù bù gāoshēng): Onwards and upwards…

To be continued…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

We womble by night and we womble by day.

1^st June 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

“And the seas boiled and the skies fell.”

Ghostbusters. “We got one.” The original movie was brilliant. Ghostbusters II was a natural flowing continuation of it’s most innovative predecessor. And then nothing, for 27 years. Three of the four previous Ghostbusters cameo, alongside Annie Potts (Janine) and Sigourney Weaver (Dana Barrett), with Ivan Reitman and Dan Aykroyd as producer / production executive and executive producer respectively. There has to be a touch of the old ghost in there. With the 1970s Columbia Pictures logo and the the film’s first trailer became one of the most “disliked videos in YouTube history” this is a clash of nostalgia and reboots of biblical proportions. Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together… mass hysteria! I can’t imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light, but it could be totally a flop of a movie, or it could be amazing.

“Concentrate… I want you to tell me what you think it is.”

Yesterday, during school, we held Children’s Day activities with a top ten talent contest for singers from primary and middle school. Following that we converted Dao Ming Foreign Language School into a bazaar – a flea market/car boot sale. My Dad would have loved it here. The students had their own stalls whilst us foreign teachers ran a kind of sweet shuop/tuck shop. I spent 678RMB on sweets, chocolates and biscuits and we sold 670RMBs worth of goods. That said, I did clear out a box of biscuits (hobnobs and Moomin crackers) for 10RMB just to end it quickly. I could have charged the extra 8RMB. Jack sold some basketball goods, Arvid sold some Swedish materials whilst Beth and Tess just helped. I think asking foreign teachers to sell “international items, things we can’t get here in China” is pretty difficult. Imported goods carry high prices and are selectively available. A combination of French, German and English sweets made for a great sweet mix-up, like the old 10p mix-ups I used to have as a kid, except in a plastic cup and not a paper bag (the 32°C would cause the sweets to melt to the bags).

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Making good use of the things that we find.

12 seconds ago

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Yesterday. was full of the joys of the message in Happy Children’s Day (儿童节快乐ér tóng jié kuài lè). Grades 7-9 had classes whilst the children of the school from grades 1-6 had a day off. As such, so did those teachers. My grade 7 classes remained. Was I envious? Not really. I enjoy teaching and I enjoy being in the team environment of my close-knit grade 9 office. The grade 7 classes were good fun, with class 702 high-spirited and eager as ever. They really are the exception in the school, they have a class full of bright sparks with few kids unwilling to try hard. Hands are always up. Screams and shouts are always there, “pick me,” “her!”, “him!”, and so on…

On the way to school, sveral grade 6 students stopped me to ask them to join their trip to the cinema. I declined with thanks, and explained that I must have classes. They said I work too hard. I replied, I don’t work nearly as hard as their native teachers. I could have rattled on that I don’t start at 09:30hrs and depart as late as 21:30hrs some days; I don’t have 90 students’ comprehension, grammar or textbook homework to mark [there are actually two textbooks now]; I don’t have tutor group worries comparative to being a carer, parent and rock to rely on; I don’t have to attend grade, school and training meetings; I don’t have to do many things, but I do have to do other things, inspire, and innovate. On the last day of May, we held a flea market, I created ten pence mix-ups (sold for 3-5RMB) from sweets purchased at Corners Deli in Nancheng, chocolates and biscuits from Dongcheng’s Walmart, and other smaller imported treats and titbits grabbed here there and everywhere. Ultimately it cost 1200RMB for everything and it all sold, returning the same amount of money, well kind of… 8RMB shy of breaking even. Because of the heat ten pence mix ups came in small recyclable plastic cups, as did the chocoloate combinations (After Eights, Dairy Milk, Twix and chocolate raisins) and the biscuit bunch (Hobnobs, Moomin crackers from Japan and some cereal bites).

On the following day (yesterday), the remaining sweets (three pouches from Turkey) became a good prize for my four classes. That, and I shared some with the teachers of middle school. As a teacher you muts make use of limited resources. In grade 6, the resources must stretch over 8 classes. In grades 7 and 8, they have to span 4 classes each. Some things take a bashing. Others stand firm. Buying props or games does not mean they’ll stand the test. Making things from shoe boxes (Houjie is famous for shoe production) or using old bottles etc, making giant weather maps, these are things that go down well. Bright, colourful, interactive – and coupled with the wow factor of Powerpoint presentations featuring interesting imagery (moving GIFs help somewhat) create depth. Forty minutes well divided (by lesson plans) into previous class review, current class warm-up, introduction of new materials, a midway review, a second introduction and then a finale review. All this builds up over a semester landing my classes where they are now: exam time.

The oral English exam is one double-sided sheet of A4 paper. Here it is…

Grade 6 Oral Lesson Test

六年级外教教学内容测试

1a) Listen. Circle the words that you hear. [10 points]

1b) Give a sentence for the two words I have marked with an X. [10 points]

robot	goalkeeper	longest	cavemen	heavy
tallest	sorry	shorter	kilograms	humans
taller	centimetres	angry	dream	change
earth	stopped	windy	spaceship	healthy
visited	cleaned	already	planned	studied
promise	fantastic	excellent	teamwork	happening

2) Which question(s) did you hear?

Please answer the question(s). [40 points]

How tall are you?

Did you go to the movies last night?

How old are you?

How heavy are you?

What size are your shoes?

Who is the tallest student in this class?

What’s happening over there?

How was your weekend?

What did you do at the weekend?

3) Use two sentences to talk about the chosen two pictures. [40 points]

Picture one

HOBBIES

Picture two

GIFTS

Picture three

JOE HART GOALKEEPER

Picture four

ROBOTS / EARTH / CAVEMEN

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Is life a never ending exam?

9^th July 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Last Thursday night, I went to see a band (with Ben, a local musician and English teacher from Reading), Searching for Something, from Sweden at Brown Sugar Jar in Nancheng. They weren’t bad, but not one to shout about.

Last week marked the start of the grade 6 oral English exams. Classes 601-604 had the honours of the first round of exams. Tom, 1.37m tall, from class 602 has always been a giddy and happy but shy student. His spoken English level surprised me and he certainly deserved 100%. Rex, from the same class, came into the teacher’s office shortly after lunchtime. Several teachers were still napping, “This is the teacher’s office, we should be quiet.” Here after we whispered the spoken exam. Again, 100% was scored. From the 72 exams, they ranged from 80-100%. A good day.

A bad day. Saturday’s game, in Tangxia, against Matteus’s team (he is a local football coach of Brazilian origin) and his Martins Brazilian Football Academy was never going to be easy AND against the elements. It was too hot for an afternoon kick off – and will remain so until September. They had to win it to clinch the title and a substantial 10,000RMB prize. We had to make up for the previous weekend’s 10-0 defeat. By Friday evening, of the 23 available players, we had 13 available. In the afternoon as we departed, we had just 11 players. A huge storm arrived, almost blowing the game away and washing us away. We were saturated, deflacted and tired losing 7-0 at half time. With four players, I had never met before, a goalkeeper standing less than 1.5 metres tall, we needed a miracle. It never came. We lost 11-2. A windswept journey back, a bite to eat (fish and chips) at Murray’s Irish Bar in Dongcheng, a swift passage along the subway to Liaoxia and I wrapped myself up and watched The Brothers Grimsby.

An ugly day. Sunday, was supposed to be spent watching the Wanjiang dragon boat races but with torrential rain and fierce winds, I favoured a morning of reading books. In the afternoon, I joined Murray’s F.C.’s Sunday league team just as cover but did not play. Thankfully, everyone turned up! Afterwards, I had food again at Murray’s Irish Bar, opting for an all day breakfast burrito and wedges.

Monday’s classes in grade 8 were halved to just two classes. The teacher of classes 804 and 802 has taken almost half of my classes this semester. Tuesday marked a return to the oral English exams in grade six. A one to one exam for the best part of 350 students certainly takes time. I’m just touching the half-way point… with some students, it can be funny and most are very clued up. Some, like Susan, in class 607 are witty and wise. Having spent the whole semester, greeting me with, “May I have candy?” the exam was little different, “Can you give me 100 points and candy?” I told her the different name we call sweet tasting sugary confectionary. She now knows the words sweets and confectionary. She asks for all three often and upon completing the exam, this was no exception. Many more exams will follow for all, at every level of school.

I’ve always admired how hard Chinese students work. From kindergarten through to middle school or high school, senior high school and beyond. The gāokǎo (高考/higher education exam) is held annually. It determines your fate. As a prerequisite for entrance into most higher education institutions at the undergraduate level. Two days of exams spread over 9 hours. Your fate. Your biros, your pencils, your mind. Subjects usually include Chinese literature, Mathematics, and English language – plus one of either Humanities (文綜）or Natural Sciences (理綜). The winners of exams, as they should be called after battling these monsters, get the Chinese equivalent of UCAS points. Since 1952, these exams have hung over every student’s life and developed a way to map and pathway students to their futures, good or bad. Their 4-6 choices of university or college hang in the balance (chosen before or after the exam – and in some cases after the results, depending on the province). The BBC article here gives a good account.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

The writings on the wall

10^th June 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Someone asked me yesterday, “Why do you only ever write about football in HubHao?” To which I felt a little bemused. I responded that I prefer to write about cultural clashes and historical pieces. I had a look this morning, I’ve only written three football reports and two articles about Guangzhou football. In fact, breaking down the range of articles covered, I am disappointed to this close-minded view.

Two weeks ago, I reviewed an amazing band called The Big Band Theory from the Phillapines. That article will be published soon. Tonight, I will go to Qiáotóu (the village in Houjie and not the district in north-eastern Dongguan) to watch the dry dragon boat race/competition. Then, tomorrow I am going to JiuZhou island (九洲岛) by Zhūhǎi (珠海) to a one day/one night music festival. I don’t know what to expect, but it sounds most interesting.

Sports related articles (6):

On The Terraces Part I – Blue Dreams

Cycling From Chengdu To Moscow

On The Terraces Part II – Red Screams

Dongguan International Football League – Round 8

Dongguan International Football League – Round 5

Dongguan International Football League – Round 4

The arts (5):

Arts Review – Mark Lotz And A Fula’s Call

Arts Review – Mr Walrus

Atlantic Attraction at Brown Sugar Jar – Arts Review

The Big Band Theory – yet to be published.

Magic Island music festival – yet to be published.

Social culture (2):

Hash Harriers – A drinking club with a running problem

Going For The Bullseye

Shopping (3):

Shopper’s Guide to Shoe Market

Shopper’s Guide To Bike Street

Shoppers’ Guide To Wanjiang Sportswear Street

Teaching (3):

Tips For The Classroom

Tips for the Classroom

Tips For The Classroom

Bars and restaurants (6):

Restaurant Review – Revolving Restaurant

Bar Review – 28 Over Par

Winners Bar – Bar Review

Restaurant Review – Munchalots

Gigg Club (Houjie) – unpublished.

Pioneer chateaux alliance – yet to be published.

Chinese and Western culture (8):

The Case For And Against Having An Ayi

The Case For And Against Learning Chinese

Badasses Of Chinese History – Yue Fei

The Case For And Against Driving In China

Badasses Of Chinese History – Hua Mulan

How To Survive Going To A Cinema

Badasses of Chinese History: Zhuge Liang

Dragon boat festival – yet to be published.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

[These words are in brackets]

14^th June 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

As the penultimate week whistles by at an alarming pace, I sit here looking at an ever-reducing pile of oral English exam papers. Classes 601-604 (less 8 students, no present on Sunday) are complete. Following last week’s Dragon Boat Festival holiday, school resumed on a Sunday. The Thursday timetable was applied accordingly. With it classes 601 to 604 had their oral English exams in the grade 5/6 teachers’ office. The fourth floor location offered respite from the harshly humid heat of the outside and the noisy classrooms that stretch out along the concrete with tacky tiled corridor-balconies of primary school.

In class 602, an unhappy and sleepy looking Alice (by far the most advanced student in the school for her degree of spoken English) told me, “yesterday was my birthday. I spent the day travelling back to school. Her classroom mate, Young, a stuttering boy with some behavioural traits that can please and scare in equal measure came in next. He has always been very vocal, uncontrollably so. He tries hard but is easily fed misinformation by his peers. His usually reasonably choir boy-like voice, was squeaky and deep in patches, like a rollercoaster screeching around a bend before thumping heavily along a straight track. I think his voice is breaking. Soon after, Willson and Bobby, both very unaccented, confident and capable students. Both scored perfection. Both, alongside Alice should advance far swifter. Class 601’s “Little Einstein” Bobby, who loves maths and physics, entered the fray next. He told me how much he, “hates English classes and P.E. They stop me from learning science and maths.” What I am particularly proud of is the fact that Bobby recognises the differences between English (Traditional/U.K.) and English (Simplified/U.S.A.). He always tries to note the spoken and written differences by either writing with U.K. and U.S.A. in parentheses or brackets. He once told me, “in Science you must know the difference, it is important.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him most people don’t know what brackets look like [these words are in brackets].

The afternoon’s exams whistled by like the Orient Express fast-tracked by a pushed French TGV train. Oscar in class 603 said he was happy, I asked why, “I am happy because I have a new pencil case.” It’d be a far better world if more kids took joy from something so simple. I remember being his age and all my classmates wanted the latest Sega Megadrive or Gameboy, Nike Air Max, and all that jazz. From class 604, Camble (who dropped his Samsung tablet smashing the screen, on the last school trip) exhibited the usual cheerful smile and said politely, “I only want 100 points if I am very good.” From the same class Anna, a usually quiet student in class, with her small birthmark on her nose, came in with a smile and would not shut up. The three-minute exam lasted six minutes. I was amazed at how much she talked. James, our very own class guitar hero, who can sing many Bon Jovi numbers came in and we skipped the usual exam format in favour of discussing music and who his heroes are. In fact, members of “John’s team” (that’s what they called us on the recent school trip), Mike, Lucas and Jimmy all answered clearly and we opted to discuss other matters, such as what movie is best at the cinema, where to travel in the world and so on. Lucas and Jimmy are a pair. They are inseperable. I hope they go to middle school together. Neither knows which school their parents have selected.

The ever clever Mary, who said she travelled 26-hours to Sichuan after school last Wednesday evening and returned to school on Sunday morning, following another 26-hour journey looked cream-crackered, properly knackered. She wants to return to Dao Ming but feels, “my parents will take her to a more advanced school.” Smart kid. Another smart kid, named Alice, when asked, “Why are you happy?” replied with, “I am happy because maths is very interesting.” Maths! Not math! Also, how many kids truly like maths? I used to until year 9 of secondary school at Reddish Vale High School. Around then, sets happened and the class pace slowed down for too many assessments. Comparable to China, we were barely tested back then, and rarely had homework…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Dreams are there to be earned.

21^st June 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Last week, marked the end of the oral English exams in grade 6. Two students did not complete their exams as they had left school for the remainder of the semester. In class 608, Peter, 1.71m tall, and easily the tallest male student in his grade, couldn’t answer a question about which student was the tallest in his class. In the same class, after three attempts, Tody, clammed up, spokne not once, and scored a feable 25%. His teacher said he never ever tries. Shame, because, I managed to start to get him trying until she walked in and hovered over him, putting him down with words like, “you never talk English. You must. You are so bad.” I felt so angry at her for that. Later, I tried again. No joy. With less pressure, I’m sure he will try one day. He has talked a little to me in class. Class 607’s Peter reminds me of my friend, Peter. This Peter is 1.4m tall and cheeky. So, is my friend Peter. Well maybe 1.42m tall. I asked a student who is seriously overwight, how heavy he is, he is 1.7m tall and 100kg. I am 1.94m tall and 110kg. His response was, “I am fat. Yay.” I hope this not so poor kid, thinks it is not a good thing! He needs a salad or two, every day otherwise his health is at major risk.

On of the questions is simpy, “What did you do last weekend?” Sometimes, the responses are so plain and it requires some digging. For example, in class 607, Joanna, “I washed my clothes and did my homework.” To which, I delved further, “What else did you do?” The meat on the bones reply followed, “We went to the beach and played games in the sea.” The interesting material is saved for last! This seemed to be the case throughout the exams. I had to push and push for something that detracted from the inside-the-box textbook response. Also, by affirming that the answers were far better this way, it builds a student’s confidence by direct feedback. From the same class, Bobby, 1.45m tall, small, very smiley, always bright and inquisitive had to be told to stop. His conversation for the final task was wonderful. From 606, Emily, in her square nerdy-looking glasses told me how she, “loves fishing with her father.” A theme throughout the exams. Even when walking about fishing, the passion is clear, that this is a big thing here, and fishing with fathers around Father’s Day, sounds most pleasant. Personally, fishing sounds dull. But good company and a natter with your Dad isn’t a bad thing in any sense.

The final class over the finishing line, was class 605. Beadlets of sweat on the students’ noses seemed to occur all the time. In this class, May, from the province of Henan, personified this extra nose sweat. She shown no other signs of sweat. Her awkwardness, 1.76m tall, seemed to be from standing head and shoulders above the rest. We compared notes on being tall. It seemed to be a gaucheness, I could relate to. With blinged pens, working hard throughout all of the exams, students like Harry Potter-glasses wearing Honey, who I taught last year in Grade 5’s VIP classes all scored well. Her pen had an Eiffel Tower hanging from it. I do so hope these students get the chance to learn well and travel the world. Dreams are there to be earned [earnt is acceptable but highly ucommon].

Travelling from Houjie to Xiàmén (厦门), around 620km away, took around 5 hours. The 15-minute bullet train between Humen Railway Station to Shenzhen North, for the connection of the long distance train (Shenxia Highspeed Rail), was swift. It hit over 300km/h. The latter train was less swift but not exactly slow. On the bullet train, I went faster than any other boy has ever gone. And my skin was raw, but my soul was ripe. An amazing piece of engineering. That was my Friday evening. Followed by a collection at Xiamen North Railway Station, where we met a man with a sign saying Gulangyu Cup 2016 (by sign it was an A4 piece of paper with barely readable words), and a drop off at the Tangdair Hotel around midnight (睿弘唐代尔酒店（厦门新轮渡码头店）厦门湖里区东渡路85号，厦鼓轮渡码头旁。). Santi and Juan went clubbing. Ideal pre-tournament ideas. I bunked with Lucho in a twin bed hotel room.

We awoke for breakfast at 6.30am, gathered at the poor breakfast buffet restaurant. After being handed a boiled egg on entry, we took a look, noticed the lack of carbohydrates then scattered to the coach, hungry. With a still drunk Santi, and a not so happy looking Juan we set off. Even before kicking a ball the format of the 2016 GuLangYu Cup stunk of class. A team photo and blurb appeared online of Murray’s F.C. The forms of registration and processes were simple and clear. Assistance was thrown at us in the shape of discount on the train travel. The total cost was 3800RMB (we paid 1000RMB deposit; and 900RMB on the day). 1900RMB was not charged to us, as we’d paid that to the trainfares. Effectively it wasn’t a bad weekend on the wallet, because trainfares cost around 384RMB for a return journey. The hotel costs 200RMB for 2 nights each. Food and drink on top was met by your own wallet. That said, on the day of the tournament, things were included. At the tournament in included a ferry return journey voucher, a voucher for a juice, one for a hamburger, two beers, a Dutch waffle, an ice cream, and a sports massage. After the game a free beer was available too.

On departure by ferry, the view was magnificent. The gentle morning sun caressed the prominent Gulangyu (鼓浪屿) and the bold granite Statue of Koxinga (國姓爺; Guóxìngyé). Often known as “The Island of Music” (音樂之島), Gulangyu attracts serious numbers of tourists annually. On stopping at a hole in the wall breakfast place, I had a quick chūnjuǎn (春卷; Xiamen Spring Roll) and hǎilì jiān (海蛎煎; an oyster omelet) for breakfast on the island. Neither filled the hole. On debarking, we walked from the small port, up the narrow, under renovation streets, passing a few western style eyesores (that golden M) and then seeing a few closed shops (it was too early to trade) before reaching the Gulangyu People’s Stadium. A sense of peace could have been noted, but for pneumatic drills and construction sounds. Here, only electric government service vehicles are permitted – these are small and barely evident.

The stadium, set underneath an exquisite looking mansion, and with the backdrop of Mount Lit-kong-giam (日光岩 Sunlight Rock – the highest place on Gulangyu). After the prompt official opening ceremony, our game was first up. MFC v Beijing Barbarians. We lost 2-0. The first goal was my fault, I was caught between two players, the ball to my left and allowed a man to drift central for a simple goal. The second was a direct shot which I should have got behind. I needed a better breakfast. Next up, last year’s runners up, Xiamen BOBO FC fielded a team against us. We were the better side, but you could see a team used to cramped fields (the fields were sub-7-a-side conditions) and without offside the found space, twice. Our final group game was a Guangdong derby, facing off against The Lions FC from Shenzhen. We romped to a 2-0 victory.

A break in the schedule allowed us to enjoy Shanghai Mint Girls FC face off against the newly formed Xiamen International Women’s FC. It was a totally once sided affair, leaving me time to read the programme notes. “We bear our football dreams in mind and ready to carry it from the metropolitan city of Shanghai to that of the GuLangYu, Xiamen City. You can see the Mint Girls playing football happily everywhere, either on the dusty fields or the wild green sports pitches. Mint Girls. Go, go, go!” Yes, that had clearly been translated. Actually, the standard of their team was ultra-professional. Their neon green with highlighted sponsors, less so. Even their crest is vile.

Eliminated from the Gulangyu Cup competition, we entered the Gulangyu Plate competition. We started with a bang. Well, Doug did. A 5-0 hammering of Hong Kong Krauts FC, in a blood and guts game saw the injury list rack up. I had my foot stamped on, and well Doug, he had a faceful of something. His nose broke and away he whizzed in an ambulance. He later had it straightened up in hospital. Next up, Suzhou Arabian Knights F.C., in the semi-finals. On their debut season in the highly competitive Suzhou Football League they immediately became champions. Murray’s FC had a testing game and proved victors. 1-0. The final proved to be one game too many. It was always going to be a single goal affair. A cruel goal in off the woodwork saw Murray’s F.C. come runners-up. Following the conclusion of proceedings, we departed the GuLangYu People’s Stadium alongside Hong Kong Krauts FC. The battle remained on the field, but off it, we were all friendly.

After Lucy, our Japanese assistant helped us on the coach get to Rasa Sayang Restaurant. The journey was 40 minutes long, and seemed to pass entirely through tunnels and bridges. On arrival a few problems with wristbands (Juan had forgotten his), Doug too (but he had the excuse of several hours in hospital with a busted nose) and the lack of live football (Belgium were playing Ireland on the TV) caused half our group to flee. The other hand waited, very patiently, for food. It was good. Armed with a few free beers we legged it back for the town. We met the others by a bar watching the football. Here on Revolution bar in Xiamen and a couple of bars nearby carried me through to 2am. Then I went to rest. Sunburnt and sleepy. The following late morning-early afternoon under the tiny shadow of the Hulishan Fortress (湖里的堡垒), we joined Beijing Barbarians for a spot of football tennis. I sat in the shade for the most reading about the local area. For the future, I want to visit Kinmen (金門). A ferry can be taken from Xiamen. The return journey was uneventful (aside from almost going to the wrong return railways station), sleepy and a little smelly.

On Monday, I tried luóhàn guǒ (Monk fruit/罗汉果/ 羅漢果) in my tea, at school. Beyond that, all classes were cancelled. Today, Tuesday, all classes are cancelled…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

I have had enough.

22^nd June 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

So, yesterday, contract negotiations, with the company I work for, hit a brick wall. Splatt. I’ve had a loose opportunity from GMA primary school (a partnership school to Eton House), a few schools in Guangzhou, an offer of 21,000AED (around £4000) from a school in the UAE… and so on. So, I asked for a tincy-wincy rise from my company, they said yes, but with no bonus. I asked for the bonus too. They said I can retain the current salary and have a bonus (which I worked out would be the same as the tincy-wincy pay rise). So, I asked for both, they reduced their offers. Yesterday, we ended talks on the matter, because they want my commitment before the visa is extended. So, now, I said I wanted to stay, but feel their offer is unfair. I know this because I know of teachers locally on more. I was offered a better role at Songshan Lake, which is a tad far from here (where I have a contracted apartment until November), so can’t take that role. The company I work for know this. They seem to know everything. What they don’t know, is that I have packed my bags and apartment away. I have had enough.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Crossing the finish line.

24^th June 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Wear a smile on your face. That should be a guideline to life. I try to live by that philosophy. Every now and then, I struggle to show a smile. Today, my last day at Dao Ming, is like that. I can’t help my feelings. I’m not worried about leaving or missing the teachers and students. I’m clouded. Shrouded by a combination of exhausation and anger. This last week, I have been made to sing for my supper far too often. I’m not a businessman and I am certainly not aggressive enough for contract negotiations. Even just raising my demands, citing loyalty and quoting that others get bonuses hasn’t been enough. Loyalty dies the moment the unspoken trust is broken. I should have learnt this many times before, but like an obedient puppy, knowing no better, I persist. And here I am. The final day. 1318 classes since I began.

This week, every class has been cancelled to allow for exam preparations, graduation rehearsal and so on. I’ve been strictly told to “ask the school to ask the company” about next semester. Nobody knows, this is it. Miss Jiang asked me some advice for her plans next semester. She wants phonics and pronunciation to be a focus of classes next semester. Elocution and articulation is important. It’d make a good warm-up section of the class for ten minutes or so. I don’t believe it of great importance to grades 5 upwards. I’ll miss consulting with Miss Jiang and the other teachers.

Today, Friday, I had been asked to say “farewell” to students in grade 6. Snowie’s classes, 601 and 602, were free after 2 o’clock. Summer’s classes 607 and 608 had to be seen in period 3 or 4 before lunch. The other classes (Apple’s and Nancy’s 603-606) were visited in period 2. In middle school, Class 701, at 13:30, wanted to say farewell too, after lunch. Class 702 would have liked to, but there was a clash of availability. Teacher’s availability of classes, exams and other such importances gave good reason to prevent a farewell to the remainder of middle school’s students. In some ways, I’d prefer to slip out quietly, unnoticed, on others, I want to be seen to say goodbye. Maybe, it shouldn’t even be my choice. Perhaps, the students should choose and not me. For me to choose is selfish. On Wednesday, the grade 9 teachers invited me to the graduation ceremony (on a date to be agreed). Likewise, Grade 6’s Nancy advised I should attend the graduation ceremony of grade 6. Again, no date has been forthcoming.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Seismic shifts of stupidity?

24^th June 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Today, 1 GBP is around 8RMB, yesterday it was 1GBP to 9.75RMB… and now comes the dark days of uncertainty.

As the votes come in for the European Union referendum of the U.K., it is clear and present to all that see, that Wales has no interest in the E.U., nor do areas with high unemployment and pretty much anyone north of London and not in Scotland. This shows massive fraction in the U.K. There is a debate about whether education and knowledge matters. That again is a fragmented view. People are fed up with the current U.K. leaders, and they could be using this vote to force a change. There is so much at play here. The U.K. has always been disjointed and the state of the union, whilst peaceful, is far from solidified. People want change, not that they’ll be much change as the value of the pound drops and drops. With this uncertainty will come a period to reflect and hopefully a rise from the ashes. In the meantime, anyone in Wales that has directly benefited from E.U. Objective I funding, or those who have enjoyed free university as a result of indirect benefits due to freed up money in the Welsh Assembly, shame on you. If you are given an apple and choose to eat it, don’t spit out the seeds and expect others to grow a plant for you – and then refuse the rotten trees that grow from them. A murky analogy? Everything is grey, not black and white. Everything.

An independent U.K.? Or a global U.K.? Calm and rational look? Invoke article 50?

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

April & May 2016’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

A growl with bite.

7^th April 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Let’s discuss dog meat. My first instinctive response is to yell, I mean absolutely f**king scream at throat-damaging levels, “Why the f**k do you eat dog meat you lowlife, worthless, valueless anti-moral massaging selfish, insignificant malefactoring, dog theft inducing wrongdoing, villainous egotistical venal turd of a mercenary against nature and all things bright and beautiful, you empty and futile hollow soul of canine crunching canine b*st*rd of a supposed man?” Then, I cool off in the head. I ask questions, I think. Why? Why, oh why? Why do people consider dog or cat meat? How did it become involved in numerous festivals? See Yulin dog, cat and lychee festival on any search engine.

On the 21^st of June this year, around 10-15,000 dogs and 4,000 cats will be subjected to death by extreme torture at Guangxi’s biggest festival, the 玉林荔枝狗肉节 (Lychee and Dog Meat Festival). Why? Who goes there? How does this even exist? People in China love festivals. This festival was primarily a lychee festival but some knobheads in the media said it was “good for the health” in 2010. Surprisingly, media influence has seen it grow in size and stature. Dog and cat thefts have risen. Actors Fan Bingbing, Sun Li and Yang Mi (several Chinese celebrities) have spoken out in opposition. Even Professors comment freely on this grim event.

Good for the health? Cortisol levels are higher in stressed animals. If consumed by humans it can cause heart problems, impotency and general fatigue. These are the very same things that eating dog meat was reported to solve. Well done, so called experts. They fell from the stupidity tree and smacked their heads off every thicky branch on the descent to the ground of dumbness. There isn’t even a mention of biomagnification and the accumulation of toxic metals in the eating party. This shit leads to genetic problems, cancers, prionic disease, current disease and viral resistance. SARS came from bird consumption (that had reportedly consumed other birds), bat consumption led to Ebola, cows being fed other cows ground-up components led to CJD. Are we digging our own grave again? Vietnamese medical expert panels are concerned by gastrointestinal problems caused by dog and cat worms. There are thousands of worm species, some good, but often in carnivores they do bad or fatal things. Rabies cases on the region are above the normal levels. Parasites, toxins and viruses can transfer by bite or other means. With 10,000 dogs, it only takes one bite and the next pandemic begins…

To the credit of Yulin Government (an autonomous region) they deny it happens. Covering signage, offering posters to take care when eating meats and asking doctors or food safety staff not to eat dog meat just n June is far from ending this immensely stupid dietary fad. It is a fad. With a ban or serious regulation (there are certificates issued for many dogs from dog farms) it could end. Because of greed for money, dogs are stolen nationally, fake documentation is banded around freely, and smugglers use lesser roads by bike or truck. Poison darts, crossbows, traps… the more you read, the more it feels totally inhumane and leaves a bilious nauseous swelling of bile in my stomach. Should you or I ignore it? Should we protest? Should we spread the word? In China, activists (it is legal to protest for conservation matters – but for animal wefare, I am unsure) post information on social media, cry out to the international community, and cause public outrage. Some travel to the region. I read Yang Xiaoyun, spent 150,000 RMB to save 360 dogs and in 2015 spent 7,000 RMB to rescue 100 dogs. What one does with 460 dogs is beyond my imagination? I’d imagine, euthanasia is the only path in some cases… maybe, euthanasia of dog and cat meat festivals is the ONLY right path.

Activism threatens businesses and trade. When someone or something rich is pressurised they fight or flight. Like a cornered angry dog with snarling teeth, fighting to live, they may bite back.

The hype draws people in from all over Guangdong, and even from overseas. This is the summer solstice afterall, a hot time and an ideal time for a good festival. As the party commences and before, many cats and dogs battle dehydration, because no one wants a frozen or refrigerated dog/cat dish of the day. The consumption of dog seems ultimately one of profit. No care. Not a thought. Just cold hard cash. A thump over the head to end consciousness. I once witnessed this from a dog here, it squealed a screech so unearthly it made me sick. They then drain the blood and chuck the dog into a machine. The fur is plucked and span away. The dog is boiled. If it hasn’t died, it is being cooked alive. Without a machine, this process is done on hooks. Again, with doomed and barely living dogs. Each meal should come with a label to say, “All our dog and cat meat is 100% torture guaranteed!”

Wine, lychees, dog and cat meat are considered warming foods, important in culture. That is to say they promote good health. I can see how wine and lychees fit in the case, but man’s best friend and Tom, the hunter of Jerry don’t belong on plates. As the build up to the gathering crowds to network, make friends, or even discuss business over a hot plate of stir-fried Yorkshire terrier, I can’t quite believe I am part of this inhuman race. The businesses market the festival as one to boost blood flow blood flow (fertility and keeping warm in winter) yet all I imagine is slaughter and an invitation of destruction on our species. Maybe nature will witness this and end our days.

When will it end? If enough voices speak out and then someone massive, like global megastar massive, Jackie Chan or Yao Ming speaks out, then more will follow. #DOGOFFYAOMING #JACKIECHANLOVESCATS #YULINLYCHEESNOTMUTTS #GUANGXICATSPROTECTION – you get the gist. Coldplay or U2 can do it better than me. Maybe Apple or XiaoMi can step in, #APPLEBOBBINStoDOGMEAT. Yulin has a government progressing bit by bit and they listen to other governments, the media and celebrities. This isn’t about preaching or taking a highground. Spain has bull fights, the UK eradicates badgers to fight TB, there are many other hypocrisies in the west. But this dog massacre is pure evil. Then, I think about the thousands of scattered restaurants offering dog meat in China, Vietnam, Mexico, Taiwan (banned in 2001 but still on many menus) and Switzerland. Take out this one for now. Let the others follow? Or ignore it? Something must be unleashed…

#STOPYULIN

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Beyond the wall

10^th May 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

It has been over a month since I have written on this blog. In some ways I have been fighting a battle in my brain. Half of me wishes to mothball the blog, the other half knows my desire to write is so great. I have been busy scribing my debut novel and emitting words for HubHao of late.

On the HubHao front, a small piece has been compiled based on two weekend trips to Guǎngzhōu. The first weekend being one to watch Guǎngzhōu Fùlì or R&F, (广州富力). The latter to watch Guǎngzhōu Héngdà Táobǎo or Evergrande (广州恒大淘宝). It is set to be published in June, as a kind of comparative piece on watching football in the west and east. The 3,800 words were selected carefully, with half set for magazine publication and the remainder to be exclusively web-based. The experience with Guǎngzhōu Fùlì was most welcoming and extremely generous by the blue team’s supporters, involving bountiful amounts of dancing, cheering and drinking afterwards. After the game, at the red side’s team, which I had to barter for a ticket, it was much more difficult and less-inviting. “Better dead than red,” is what should be said.

I’ve also discharged some words about a wine bar, between two recent matchday reports for the Dongguan International Football League (gameday five and gameday four) under my pen name Indigo Freeman. I may change the pen name to Indigo Victor Freeman or I.V. Freeman sooner or later. Back to football, it is safe to say, my Murray’s FC Maine Road are propping everyone up, after gameday seven (written by new writer Aaron Lowe).

Prior to this an article on Mark Lotz and A Fula’s Calling was published. Sadly, at the time of publication it was found to us, that Abu Djigo had passed away. I was quite pleased with the article and now it is a reminder, that life is precious, take all the beauty you can from it. Good night, god bless Abu Djigo.

Of late open lessons, mid-term exams, prepartions for grade 6 and grade 9 class graduation, an international day and country profile detail have filled my time. There have been some wonderful moments and the usual lows that remind you teaching is not meant to be easy. Nor is working as part of a diverse foreign language team. Culture differences between America, the U.K. and Sweden are just as challenging as that of Chinese-Western differences. If not, somewhat worse, because you don’t naturally anticipate them or form your own prejudices from previous experiences. A delayed middle school travel to Dàpéng jiēdào (大鹏街道) in Shenzhen (深圳) happened. We went to see a museum at dàpéngchéng (Dàpéng Fortress大鹏城), a walled village fortress and have a barbecue at Dàpéng Wan (bay). There are many people in this area that speak a mixture of Cantonese and Hakka, the Dàpéng dialect (大鵬話). The area has some of the best coastline in Guangdong, a so called Oriental Hawaii. The Dàpéng Peninsula (大鹏半岛) sweeps around the east of Hong Kong and looks pretty amazing (The 943.7m tall Wútóng Shān, 梧桐山, is a very distinctive shape in the distance. Closer by there is the 869m tall Qiniang Shān, 七娘山). It is a most popular weekend destination. XiChong (西涌) beach is located there. You can reach this on foot or by an often cramped bus E11 from Shenzhen North Station to Nan’Ao Terminus 南澳总站; then bus M232 to XiChong village 酉涌沙岗村站). A famous person who hailed from this region is Jian Ting (简廷). Sadly, we can’t go to the pretty looking offshore island Peng Chau Tung (平洲東), because it is under the jurisdiction of Hong Kong. At the barbecue, we had to catch our own fish and chickens. Some students abandoned humane methods of chopping the fish’s head off, for bludgeoning with the smooth flat of the knife’s blade. It didn’t make sense. Once I explained the humane ways, they understood and some respected it. After the wonderful barbecue, in a kind of shanty-village gardens, we explored a geological museum. A most treasured and bizarre day without shit-sinking and cream-floating like some teachers I have met claim classes can be.

Last week, I had a visitor from Beijing. Esben, a former foreign teacher (from my first semester in Dao Ming Foreign Language School) called by for a break. He had visited his friend Jason in Fóshān, so the short journey down on the way to Beijing via Shenzhen airport, wasn’t too much of a detour. He attended six of my classes and my grade 6 students, who he had taught when they were in grade 4, remembered him. Well kind of. His beard and longer hair was a tad confusing for some. A few prompts helped them say his name. Several teachers, the few that remained, greeted Esben equally as cordially. Esben was lucky enough to join class 604, who were at half strength due to an outbreak of chicken pox in said class. Bizarrely most students are allowed to remain in school, whilst several have spent time at hospital. Most are thankfully better now. It was odd going into a class, without being told and seeing desks far apart, with no two students inside within a metre of each other. My class was based around greetings, high fives, fist bumps, hand shakes… with zero actions taking place. Better safe, than itchy.

On the scratchy itchy front of life, this last fortnight has seen a drastic increase in the rise of the winged bastards they call mosquitoes. I am thankful for no longer sharing an office with my heat-loving colleague Mr Yang Wenbo (Maths Teacher). Bites have been sighted moreso, because Esben, whilst lodging at my apartment, managed to leave the mosquito nets ajar all too often. So winged warriors of worry have delivered chew marks to by posterior, anterior and limbs alongside a few buzzes past my ear at night. There is little comfort in being woken up by a mosquito at night and chasing, actually hunting, like a caveman after the terrorsome Daesh adherents. I get why they exist, mosquitoes, not Daesh, and fully understand their ecological value but they don’t half incense me. I’ve even been to the cinema and watched the Jungle Book in a kind of extra-dimensional setting with authentic fly nibbles to add to the experience. Hell, they even shown up at Captain America: Civil War. They just love the cinema feel!

It is safe to to say that the weather has gone from pleasantly warm to the lower levels of Dante’s Inferno. The unbearable rung of humidity comes in drips and drabs, literally – as people say. My apartment’s air conditioning is on for at least 50% of the time I am present. The sound drowns out the neighbour’s pet hawk sqwarking on the staircase outside. Yes, the neighbour has been setting their chick loose for a month now, it has grown and is now fearless of me. The staircase stinks of bird droppings now. And hawks eat other chicks etc, so it can be pungent at best. SARS-risk aside, it is quite pleasant to see local people taking on pets such as dogs and cats but to see a hawk is far from unusual – it is practically unheard of!

Esben and I met Bright last week for a reunion and meal at Munchalots in Houjie. Afterwards we met Bright’s friend, drank good tea and fussed a six-month old crazy border collie dog. Bright’s friend has students at my school, so hopefully I’ll see more of that energetic four-legged friend.

On Sunday afternoon, I had my bike fully serviced, a few minor repairs and parts replaced. A new cycling computer (to replace one recently stolen from my frame) and a bag to fit beneath the handlebars added to a satisfying rebirth of the bike. The Dutchess of Manchester is as good as new and rolls well. Far better than last week’s sluggish rides back from football. I could still race well against electric bikes and motorbikes when my wheels were more strained but it felt like an absolute chore. The potholes of Houjie and beyond had hammered the bearings and buckled my wheels. Now my bike seems to float.

Football has been busy with many games being played. All have been a challenge but I seem to be just cresting my fitness right now. It isn’t easy with the humidity but I am trying to get fitter and faster. Eddy is back to shore up our inner sanctum board of players (Weng, Alex, Alain, Reuben, Eddy and I). He has worked hard on securing a game in Tangxia to be watched by 2,000-20,000 students; games in Xiamen; a new league competition and several one-day cup games around the region. I don’t know how he managed to get engaged with his commitments to Hubhao and a trip to watch Middlesbrough F.C. clinch promotion. I give my heart-felt congratulations to Eddy and June on their engagement. May they have long and happily complete lives saturated with joy and smiles.

I read many publications on wechat, via magazines and the like. I am shocked at some of them, not because of their efforts to be outwardly controversial or critical of the People’s Republic of China, but purely because how mediocre and feable some of the text reads. For example, how do the Chinese see foreigners? Well a website called GUIDEINCHINA tried to generalise and tie them all together. I hate being labelled. They labled the type of foreigners found here. “Foreign language teachers who can be in turn grouped into four sub-categories: A. genuinely professional, passionate teachers. B. older people in retirement willing to trade comfort for a more adventurous life. C. young people, predominantly male (with or without qualifications) who presumably ‘couldn’t make it back home and thus ended up in China’. D. tourists/stay at home wives-turned language teachers.” Am I in catergory A or C? It’d be easy to write a response on their forum and tell them where the horizon is and how to get there using expletives. However, one statement I could totally relate to: “generally agreed among those surveyed that the attention foreigners get in China is disproportionate.” Had it have said tall, I would have nominated them for the Chinese equivalent of the Pulitzer Prize. Interestingly, they mentioned the drive to China. I certainly now have the “love for Chinese language/culture” but I couldn’t say any of the 4 reasons motivated me to come here. I did like how the fourth question (Source of information to form impressions of foreigners in China) mostly stemmed from media portrayal. When it comes to the below qualities, I see a few positives from many of my foreign friends here, and many friends who hail from this very nation. I’d say generally, both foreigners and Chinese are equal here in the below qualities:

Open-minded, friendly, polite, well-educated, humorous, helpful, extroverted, sociable, funny, fun-loving, bar hoppers, party animals, sports lovers, financially secure, good-looking, pretty, athletic, creative, ambitious, egoistic, arrogant, superior-minded, rule-abiding, organised, religious, ambitious, straight-forward, progressive, aggressive, loud, selfish, stubborn.

We’re all individuals. Don’t believe the truth…

#DOGOFFYAOMING

#JACKIECHANLOVESCATS

#YULINLYCHEESNOTMUTTS

#GUANGXICATSPROTECTION

#APPLEsayBOBBINStoDOGMEAT

#STOPYULIN

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Wombling free

16^th May 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

A regular Tuesday usually involves a meeting of the foreign teachers, four grade 6 classes from class eigtht down to class five, a ten minute English language video viewing and a VIP class in grade 5. Today has not been the usual smooth flowing day. I was late to school by ten minutes because of the profligate lashings of morning. Even in a rainjacket I did not fancy wading to school. The meeting was sparse as Wendy, our leader, was unavailable, forsook in the primary school building, unwilling to splash her way to her office building at the fair end of the playground. Tess (freshly returned from the U.S.A.) was a few minutes late, Beth anxious about her day’s open lesson, and Arvid as relaxed as ever. With a term end date for foreign teachers set to June the 26^th, I am trying to find out my finishing date. That does mean five or six weeks remain… as it stands. We shall see… Following the truncated meeting, I sped to an office and attended class 608 as normal, ish. My VGA to HDMI cable fell out of my pocket as I walked, landed under foot and resembling a crumbled plastic pancake afterwards. So, class 608 met chalky chalk and good old fashioned blackboard (even though they are green). We played games and made sentences. I skipped to the next class to find class 607 was cancelled and replaced by photographs of each student. No worries, I spent my time on the last blog post. After lunch, I had photos with several classes before returning to class 606 for the remaining twenty minutes of the lesson. That was cancelled only two minutes later. Class 605 would finish the day… the VIP class capitulated to the now heavy afternoon tropical rains.

Following an early evening of unsettled weather, Murray’s F.C. Maine Road kicked off at 9.30pm and drew a game against Red Lions (Dongguan) F.C. That was our first point in this season’s Dongguan International Football League. Next up, we have top place Murray’s F.C. ATFC in what we call a “civil war” between our two offspring clubs of Murray’s F.C. The other offspring Murray’s F.C. Bilbao are also doing very well. In typical Maine Road spirit, M.F.C. Maine Road are bobbins for results but great on effort and spirit, a little like watching City in the mid to late 1990s. Murray’s F.C. played at the weekend, and like last Thursday, I took a break. This week there is the Dongguan International Football League game tomorrow night, a Thursday night game in Liaobu (an exhibition game), and an 11-a-side league game on Saturday in Tángxià (塘厦) also.

Thursday’s school day was swept away for the primary school day trip to Vanilla World in northern Guangzhou. I accompanied Nancy and some of grade 6’s class 3. By some, I mean 3 students from 40. 28 were mixed amongst other coaches whilst the remainder remained off school with chicken pox. As I boarded the coach with Tess, Jack and Arvid, a student Mary plonker herself next to me for the journey. Amongst my pigeon Chinese, it was actually a pleasant journey with much discussed, as best you can with an 11-year old girl. On arrival at the gardens/theme park, class 603 reconvened. Immediately, one student Alan, shown how bored he was, and how bored he would carry on being all day. The tour guide escorting our class around, looked lost and for the most of it, he was. I offered assistance with directions every now and then, whilst others just followed without question. He really was a comedy tour guide. After hundreds of photos and just as many mosquito bites (despite sunblock and repellent) we stopped for lunch. At which stage, I was allowed to wander free of my class. I was immediately stopped by five class 603 students who commandeered me. Annexed we became an unlikely gang, a tribe lurching from ferris wheel to bumper cars to the ghost house (actually, one third of my band were too afraid to enter; and I just walked around laughing at how much screaming the remaining trio of students could do). After a hyper afternoon, we reconvened by a museum in the park where the students made the custodian look very nervous as they selectively swarmed over ancient artefacts. Hands touching where it said “do not touch” and camerasa flashing the “take no photographs” signs, with sugary food being consumed and drinks splashing the odd glass surface. I had told them to obey the rules. They said they would. They did for the most part of the ten minutes, then it was fair game. That museum custodian had her honeymoon period smashed from her foremind. Boom. We soon boarded the coach back and joined the procession of traffic jams all the way back to Dongguan’s sunny Houjie. The hottest day of the year so far had hit 35°C. It was stifling, yet not so humid.

On Friday night, I checked out a band called Deer at 8 Livehouse in Guǎnchéng (莞城). Pre-music I tried pizza at Zoe’s Tea House. The pizza was terrible. The French fries equally so. The drink was good. As was the atmosphere with many boardgames and puzzles. Next door there is a remote control car model shop and racing track. There is a PADI diving centre nearby and a fake big wheel. The whole area is filled with upmarket restaurants, cafes and bars. It feels very plastic, like a movie set.

At the weekend, I visited HuYing Park (虎英公园) in Dōngchéng (东城) via bus 54 (2RMB) from Guantai Lu near Nánchéng (南城) bus station, after taking the L1 bus (3RMB) from Hòujiē (厚街). The park is cleaner than most other city parks. There are statues, trails and plenty of places to stroll. The neighbouring hotel complex of Tangla does not interfere and it connects well to QiFeng Park over a bridge to the west. The problem I have with the park is the noise from the small theme park, located quite centrally, fills most of the air with the sounds of “Xiao Pingguo” and other such non-works-of-art. The ponds, streams, small pathways to the pavillion are pretty and there is evidence of some good wildlife in amphibians, insects (preying mantids, caterpillars and butterflies galore) as well as many beautiful sounds of singing birds. If they turned off the mobile KTV boxes lining one hill, some people could escape the city and enjoy the cicadas gently humming – however, the KTV keeps the cicadas on constant alarm status. It is a good park for someone with a camera and offers plenty of shade from the relentless sun. Bring earplugs for true peace.

On the 28^th of May 2016, Houjie (at Shanmei 珊美 and the Exhibition Centre 展览中心) and my local area of Liaoxia (寮厦)shall become more connected. There’s a random stop a little far out called Chenwu (陈屋) which is barely surrounded by anything. Line 2 of the subway/underground/metro/MTR trainline opens from Shílóng (石龙) in the north of Dongguan (by the Dōngjiāng river 东江) to Hǔmén Railway station (虎门火车站) in the south west by the Pearl River (Zhūjiāng; 珠江). The townships of Cháshān (茶山), Dōngchéng, Nánchéng become that little bit closer. I’m familiar with the two latter townships but have not explored Cháshān (茶山). Nanshe Ming and Qing village (南社明清古村落at 511700茶山镇南社村) is located there. A short underground ride will get riders to Shílóng (石龙) and such places as Shílóng Golden Bay (东莞石龙金沙湾) – a nature park. Line 1 of the Dongguan underground hasn’t even been started yet. For now, I can visit trees older than 100 years old and one tree that is 300 years old in Shílóng. There might be dragon boat races there too at Jinshawan.

The opening of the underground sees new possibilities for evenings out and gentle walks. It does mean places like Cháshān will join the growing list of places in this city that I have explored. Cháshān could offer surprises like Nanshe or something else like Dongyue Temple (东莞东岳庙), you never know! Now all I need to do is find a way to Yangling Cliff rock carvings (燕岭摩崖石刻)…

With respect to next semester, I have had some good, some bad and some terrible job offers ranging from Shanghai, Dongguan to Taipei and Birmingham, but I might have to devote the weekend to the next ride. I have been insulted a few times with low job offers, and questioned almost every time if I a native speaker. What I then don’t get is that when they tell me the offered salary, I tell them how low it is compared to mine, and how they then counter offer with something equally as insulting. What further narks me off is how many offer an incorrect visa. I want to do things officially to show my experience and level of education – not to to be a cheap commodity! That doesn’t show respect! Without an incey-wincey bit of respect, I won’t be knocking on their doors. Ultimately, I could remain at Dao Ming Foreign Language School… but I need freshness, and HòuJīe (厚街) has changed so much, it really is a city now compared to the town I entered two and a half years ago. The village of Liaoxia (寮厦) within is a different place. A new beginning? A new adventure?

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

March 2016’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

The virtual private network (That’s entertainment!)

17th March 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Spider piss, spider piss, does whatever spider piss can…

I had a coldsore. Herpes simplex is in town. HSV-1 sounds like a railway construction project title. I didn’t want to wait the 7-10 day clear-up time. It is unsightly and uncomfortable. On Wednesday (the 2^nd of March) morning, I could feel a tingling burning sensation on the left of my lips. By the afternoon a small blister erupted. By the evening my lips had dried and become much more sore. The small blister had multiplied into a cluster of fluid-filled pouches. I’m fairly certain that on Tuesday (March the 1^st) night, somebody at football took a swig or two from my personal drinks bottle. I am not happy about this. I have always hated sharing drinks bottles, glasses or anything of the same irk. That said it could be fatigue from the 60km of cycling slapped around two hours of football… or strong sunlight… or menustration (as if)… or emotional and psychological stress… endless possibilities. Last Thursday morning I opted to call by the pharmacy (as I had in October 2014). The cream is the same tiger balm deep heat smelling one as before. This time they have me something called Sihuang Xiehuo Pian (四黄泻火片). The tiger balm fragranced cream has soothed the lip symptoms and I hope it’ll swiftly clear up the blemishing. The new tablets contain 7mg of berberine hydrochloride in their 0.25g tablets. Take 4, three times daily, said the pharmacist. The description of the tablet’s uses (from the box label), directly translates as:

“Treatment against heat dampness, purging fire detoxification. For inner burning filled, red eyes and throat, toothache , sore tongue , scanty dark urine , dry stools and surgical sore embolism.”

So, having survived my pigeon Chinese exchange with a pharmacist, I fled to school via a breakfast stall. At school, I asked my colleague Wendy about these new mysterious tablets. She explained in scientific terms that farmyard spiders have moved into the city and taken a leak on my lips. They came in, cocked many of their eight legs and took a slash on my face. I was pissed on by spiders, man. I didn’t argue, as the story was backed up by many tales passed down from generation to generation by ancestrial kin. I guess there is a reason why a primary school of Chinese whispers gets that name.

Forgive me for going all Sam Smith and saying that the writings on the wall, but right now, I am so far up the creek of crap, I don’t know if I need to wade, dive or kayak away. Something has reappeared that I thought was long buried. A storm is coming. If I am to make it through this storm, I either face it head on and don’t further ignore it, or I won’t be able to breathe. I can barely breathe thinking about it. There isn’t much light left at the end of the day, and that is when hope is at its least. Last week, I was ebbed so far off, I thought deep dark thoughts. A demon has appeared at the end of my bed, and it wants to pull me in. I’m afraid and unsure. I must face it.

On a more positive front HubHao have published two of my latest articles, one is about a local Hash Harrier group. A second article skirts a little too close to political matters for my liking, so I’ve coined a pen name, Indigo Freeman, to write about taxi driver strikes. Whilst not entirely political it does talk about workers’ rights, to which I am not willing to tie my name to this increasingly warm fronted debate with China. China is busy changing a few things at the minute and has been for over a week. VPNs have been null and void for some time. The big two meetings (Liang? ) has been attended mainly by party officials but has had guests such as Edmund Phelps (2006 Nobel laureate in economics) and Steve Chu (former U.S. Secretary of Energy who won the Nobel Prize in physics in 1997). China’s State Administration of Foreign Experts Affairs (SAFEA) has been seeking suggestions and insights from overseas to assist China with various matters. Whether it is economic approaches, financial risk control, clean energy, cooperation on the Belt and Road, the middle income trap or health care reform, China wants to progress. Tougher bans on tobacco advertisements, the tackling of obesity and many more sensible healthcare decisions have been announced. As the U.K.’s own government strangles and constricts the National Health Service, China looks over at Britain as a model of aspiration. When you try to explain that their goal is being destroyed in Britain, they never understand.

Without a VPN, and with increased internet censorship of late, sites such as YouTube has been useless. I shouldn’t complain because I am a guest of the state. I’ve relied on the Chinese equivilents but can’t quite get my music fix or communicate with those who don’t use email, WeChat etc. BBCs websites have been up and down but thankfully MCFC.co.uk has remained unaffected. City TV beats having a TV channel on cable or satelite TV where every programme is half-thought, dragged out and often repeated. It is informative, well-produced and broad in content. There have been moments of humour, something for the kids, deep interviews, past perspectives and far more content targeting a wide and now increasingly global audience. I feel in touch with the club and at ease with how our club is being ran. The chairman’s reports, Inside City, youth team highlights and general first team footage have been particularly pleasing to see. I love my club and it feels great to see and hear praise from other team’s fans about our website. They want to be where we’re at and when they get there, we’ve already gone further… I prefer to use MCFC.co.uk over social media (which can often be restricted in use at offices, social media has no use in China when I am working there, etc).

The last 10 days has seen temperatures drop from 22°C to 7°C. The previous week’s hot exploration around the Dongguan Botanical Gardens seems a distant memory. Last Saturday was so cool in comparison. Yesterday’s heavy rain showers hinted at the spring monsoon deluges that may follow. That said, the night sky was clear and starry, amongst the glows of light pollution. Today, the humidity ramped up to a steady 90% and the temperature has risen to 17°C.

Today, I had to perform a presentation to the English teachers within Dao Ming Foreign Language School. I think it went well. I was challenged to talk about my Spring Festival vacation, which I feel was rather boring. I told of the short spell teaching, the multiple problems I faced with regards to travel, my attempts at ten pin bowling (where I hit a strike… on the wrong lane), my bike rides and my ambition to write novels. With a few props (Spitfire Ale ten pins from a gift set my Mum once gave me), the medal from the Shenzhen football tournament I played in, and a cycling hat, it seemed to go well. The head of foreign language [They olnly teach English], Miss Jiang, belly-laughed and left her poker-face aside for a wee while. If she was happy, I think I did an okay job.

I’ve been offered the chance to interview Boris Becker this weekend at Mission Hills in Shenzhen. The article and interview will be for a local magazine. I may have to pass due to prior commitments teaching that morning. I have a morning class from 8.20am to 10.10am. After that class, I have my Chinese class. I’m also not a fan of tennis, so maybe it isn’t my cup of tea. Speaking, or writing of tea, I am drinking a lovely bitter black tea with added lemon to sour any hint of fragrance. It certainly soothes an aching throat.

This last week’s classes have flown by, with many classes affected by coughing and spluttering ill children. The change in temperature and humidity has allowed a spring colds and flu to move freely. The foreign teachers here, Tess, Beth, Arvid, and Jack have each had at least one day off with sickness. I’m the last man standing – and I am doing my best to avoid the dreaded lurgy or man flu. My fruit intake and recovery from football (this last week my Murray’s FC team lost 4-3 and won 7-0 in two fixtures…).

The school have offered me a football coaching role and extra lessons but my contract with Worlda forbids me from accepting it. And, also, from working for the school for two years after leaving Worlda… so I’m a tad upset. What next?

Today, I have uploaded the blog post having typed it long ago. It has been changed a little to accommodate for the best part of three week’s absence. I’m sure more will follow…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Magic that slips over boundaries

17^th March 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

I’ve noticed since I have been in China, how odd the sense of hunour is here. Mr Bean is a demigod, ranked so highly he is on a par with everyone’s favourite unconvicted paedophile Michael Jackson. On a side note I don’t band around this vile word paedophile so freely, but in the case of a man so childlike in nature with a disposition for over the top body reworkings, and one too many children staying over, it does worry me that celebrity and great music can prevent legal experts from taking on the once-upon-a-time-or-maybe-now-Adam Johnson of America. Anyway, now I’ve ripped a few more friends from my Facebook list by condemning the singer of the wonderful Thriller, I’ll crack on. Bean is immortal here in China, appearing at square dances and even being badly remade in Chinese. I can see why, I have been told many Chinese jokes, lost in translation and jokes about black people having an abhorrence of cannibalising their own digits, to slurs about the Japanese and besmirches of those who Hitler aimed to wipe off the Earth. I don’t believe the students who told such tasteless ditties, aimed to offend. I think they learned them from adults, who learned them from seniors and nobody has ever questioned why such materials are banded around. Then came a generation of kids, aged nine and upwards who can self-translate whole realms of language. The bright sparks look bold and pleased with what they have changed into my native tongue. I slap their achievements out of the air, swatting them aside like a mosquito preying on my arm. Here I fill their ears with education and soon they listen.

I hate division by stupidity. Racism and exclusionism I abhor. It is like being at a meal and several souls inviting each other for a night out to the cinema, without inviting one person sat between them. We’re all in this together. Why snipe? Why overlook? Even if that person acts silly or brave, they should be included. Mr Bean never ousts anyone, well he does show his selfishness throughout ther series but we never ever feel hurt by this. The plot is simple, as life should be. The only minor confusion arises by his lack of dialogue.

To me my childhood featured great TV shows like Challenge Annika, The Crystal Maze, London’s Burning, The Paul Daniels Show (R.I.P. Paul Daniels) and Mr Bean. Yet, many years later, one show refuses to leave TV screens. In part because, maybe it was never shown until many years after it was first released and in part due to the comedy genius and timing of the main actor. Mr Bean prattles on. A gift from Rowan Atkinson and Britain to the world. To China it is the Fawlty Towers reruns of Germany. This is their vent. Slapstick humour can be wonderful. Leslie Neilsen and Charlie Chaplin (the other guy with that ‘tache) are my slapstick heroes. Eric Morecambe added dialogue with a stooge, a fall guy. But Mr Bean… if you even whisper Mr Bean in a class, the students erupt in laughter. They haven’t seen anything yet remember everything they have seen. A tidal wave of euphoria from a teddy-bear carrying brown suited fool. Mr Bean turned 25 years-old last year, and here in China, his legacy rolls on, with Snickers giving him a recent TV advertisement. His simple mumblings and bumbings have won him a host of fans. His symbolism of Great Britain and slow-witted tomfoolery offer escape. Be that escape from grey industrial lives or homework, I’d rather see my students pander for Mr Bean than reach to jokes about race and gender. Maybe, just maybe, Mr Bean should be awarded a UN ambassador roll for racial harmony…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Slippery when…

27^th March 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

The week before last, I was slipped into, I slipped over numerous times without any assistance and witnessed multiple counts of sliding. There was a sudden temperature change causing the 100% air humidity to run water down most, if not all, walls exposed to external air for longer than a few minutes. Even opening my door last weekend, allowed too much damp air into the apartment. An extractor fan in the bathroom had drawn more water into the bathroom than had originally remained following a shower. Mould growths seemingly expanded before my eyes last Tuesday as I sat at my desk. The tiny green specks on my backpack’s pocket grew into thumbsized smudges by the end of the day. I have since cleaned my backpack thoroughly.

I’ve seen scooters smashed to smitherines by sliding wet roads. The humidity has turned well-laid roads into skating rinks. The lesser repaired and maintained roads have been far comfier to cycle along due to extra pothole and debris offering stable traction. China is busy, so busy that sometimes multiple worlds collide. And when, you’re cycling, it pays to look forwards, sideways and behind you.

Actually, this spring has seen many more headaches, flus, coughs, colds and viruses than last year. It had felt significantly cooler and damper compared to my previous two springs in Dongguan. I’ve had signs of man flu on and off, a mild fever for a good two weeks. Coupled with my bruised left calf, swollen achille’s heel and hairline foot fractures (related to being a victim of a slip) last week had been a rather sluggish week. Two games of football during that timeframe resulted in a 10-4 win and a 5-1 defeat, with my team almost unrecognisable between the two ties. Both were against Red Lions (Dongguan) FC. Following Manchester City’s defeat in the Manchester Derby, there is no further desire or need to mention football. Well… just a little… Shenzhen will host Manchester City against Borussia Dortmund on July 23^rd followed by a Manchester Derby in Beijing five days later. Actually, football news here has become more prolific in the last 6 months. Many clubs and media groups are tapping the Chinese market. Good to see Chinese City fans get a mention on the official website and for activities to take place around derby day. The less said about the result, the better. It is up there with the expected gun shooting massacres in the US of A. C’mon America, sort it out! Not that I should say anything because gun crime in China is on the rise.

I now have the tools and materials to fashion my own sushi. This will be most exciting. Between the stir fry dishes from my favourite Sichuanese restaurant, it makes sense to try cooking new foods at the apartment. In fact, I’ve managed to cook almost every other day for thr first time in ages. The first batch of sushi was a success. More will follow.

Yesterday, I went walking from Houjie to Dalingshan through Dalingshan forest park. Spotting several kingfishers and a dozen golen-black jay-like birds was particularly pleasing. The evening’s meal at Nazaar Turkish restaurant made up for the disappointment of seeing Batman Vs. Superman. What a cluttered up movie that is! My Saturday class (in week three) moved from the below par training centre to class 306 in Dao Ming. The 15 students paid more attention and the facilities were far better. Going forward the class will split into a class of 8 and a class of 7 students.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Football terms in Mandarin

27^th March 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

EXPRESSION	PINYIN		HANZI

PENALTY	DIAN QIU	diǎn qiú	点球
RED CARD	HONG PAI	hóng pái	红牌
YELLOW CARD	HUANG PAI	huáng pái	黄牌
FOULT	FAN GUI	fàn ɡuī	犯规
HAND BALL	SHOU QIU	shǒu qiú	手球
OFFSIDE	YUE WEI	yuè wèi	越位
DIVING	JIA SHUAI	jiǎ shuāi	假摔	跳水 tiào shuǐ
REFEREE	CAI PAN	cái pàn	裁判
LINE REFEREE	BIAN CAI	biān cái	边裁
BALL	QIU	qiú	球
SOCKS	QIU WA	qiú wà	球袜
SHIRT	QIU YI	qiú yī	球衣
TROUSERS	QIU KU	qiú kù	球裤	短裤duǎn kù
FOOTBALL SHOES	ZU QIU XIE	zú qiú xié	足球鞋
RISE THE FLAG	JU QI	jǔ qí	举旗
KEEP PLAYING	JI XU TI	jì xù tī	继续踢
PASS THE BALL	CHUAN QIU	chuán qiú	传球
KEEP THE BALL	KONG QIU	kòng qiú	控球
DO NOT LOSE THE BALL	BIE DIU QIU	bié diū qiú	别丢球
SHOOT IT	SHE MEN	shè mén	射门
IN THE GOAL	JIN QIU	jìn qiú	进球
OUT OF THE GOAL	MEI JIN	méi jìn	没进
TACKLE	CHAN QIU	chǎn qiú	铲球
PUSH THEM	TUI TA	tuī tā	推他
KEEP PRESSURE	(GEI TA MEN YA LI) JIN GONG		进攻	jìn gōng
LONG BALL	CHANG CHUAN QIU	cháng chuán qiú	长传球
OPEN TO THE WINGS	CHUAN BIAN LU	chuán biān lù	传边路
CLOSE DEFENSE	FANG SHOU JIN BI	fáng shǒu jǐn bī	防守紧逼
FACE THE BALL	KAN ZHE QIU	kàn zhe qiú	看着球


EXPRESSION	PINYIN		HANZI

RUN	PAO	pǎo	跑
PLAY EASY	MAN DIAN LAI	màn diǎn	慢点
I DID NOT HEARD THE WHISTLE	WO MEI TING JIAN CHUI SHAO		我没听见吹哨
IT’S OUR BALL	WO MEN DE QIU		我们的球
CORNER	JIAO QIU	jiǎo qiú	角球
FIRST POST???	I HAO WEI		一号位
SECOND POST???	2 HAO WEI		二号位
HALF TIME	ZHONG CHANG (XIU XI)		中场
MAKE A SUBSTITUTE	HUAN REN	huàn rén	换人
WAIT, HOLD ON	DENG YI XIA		等一下
INJURE	SHOU SHANG	shòu shāng	受伤
I JUST HIT THE BALL	WO MEI FAN GUI		我没犯规
OPPONENTS	DUI SHOU	duì shǒu	对手
KEEPER	SHOU MEN YUAN		守门员
STRIKER	QIAN FENG	qián fēng	前锋
DEFENCE	HOU WEI	hòu wèi	后卫
CAPTAIN	DUI ZHANG	duì zhǎng	队长
FREE KICK	REN YI QIU	rèn yì qiú	任意球
EXTRA TIME	JIA SHI SAI		加时赛
FINAL SCORE	BI FEN	bǐ fēn	比分
MIDFIELD	ZHONG CHANG	zhōng cháng	中场
FOOTBALL MEMBERS	QIU YUAN		球员
COACH	JIAO LIAN	jiào liàn	教练
NOT USUAL PLAYERS	LENG BAN DENG		冷板凳
MULTI SUBS	DUO NENG TI BU		多能替补
OWN GOAL	WU LONG QIU		乌龙球
PLAY WITH HEAD	TOU QIU	tóu qiú	头球
POST	MEN ZHU		门柱
FINISH TIME	JIE SHU		结束

EXPRESSION	PINYIN		HANZI

CONTROL THE BALL	KONG QIU		控球
HOLD AND PASS THE BALL	chuán qiú		传球
WARM UP	RE SHEN		热身
FRIENDLY GAME	YOU YI SAI		友谊赛
GOAL POST	BIAN KUANG		边框
SHOOT VERY BADLY	TI FEI LE		踢飞了
NET	WANG DOU		网兜
PITCH	QIU CHANG		球场
WIN	YING LE		赢了
LOSE	SHU LE		输了

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Easter is east.

30^th March 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

I hope you had a happy Easter time. This Easter weekend resulted in the investment in some chocolate for my classes. Kinder, Cadbury’s Dairy Milk, and Cadbury’s Fingers have entered the fray. They are all rewards for Easter themed virtual reality egg hunts on my powerpoint-based classroom games. I started the theme of Easter in yesterday’s grade 8 classes. Class 801 were abysmal as ever, they have a complete disrespect for all teachers. Not just me. I gain 50% of their collective attention at best. Five students were asleep on entering the class and refused to be disturbed thereafter. Of the five desks of five students, one desk failed to have any input. Infact from the 25 students, only 10 students had any input. They don’t fear the teachers in all classes. They don’t look forward to any classes, despite most saying they want my class. I’m told I get the best response from them out of all their physics, politics, maths, geography, biology, art and other English classes. Even the P.E. teachers cannot find a way to grasp their enthusiasm. In some ways, it reminds me of my lesser-spotted younger borther Paul. He seems totally cut off from me. This class are the closest thing to that. If I died today, I doubt he or they’d care. In stark contrast 803, try, try and try somemore. Every student. The rear of the class has been foricibly pushed forth by the class’s absolute commitment to having a laugh and learning at the same time. They may have spent two years saying, “John, what’s your name?” but amongst their warm humour, they have shown strides of effort. Class 804 moved from the morning period 4 to period 5 in the afternoon. Three-in-a-row classes on a Monday certainly make the week easier to tackle. Class 804 embraced the task well, as did class 802 in the morning. I just wish I could grasp class 803 and bring them up to speed. The Chinese English teacher Joyce has her hands full trying. Her predecessor never had a chance. Good luck to her!

At the weekend Murray’s FC were winning 8-2, and after some handbags the other team walked off the field shouting things like “shit foot” and “f**k crazy” which made the petulance all the more entertaining. Our player, Werner, who had been fouled, had stood up angrily, and you could see fire in his eyes, yet he never lashed out. They did, all their players were around him. As quick as the heat built up, it went. They went. They walked away to another pitch. We carried on with a training game. Last night (Tuesday), Murray’s FC Maine Road lost 12-0 to Murray’s FC ATFC. The damage was done by half time and even though in the second half we made it difficult for the opposition to create chances, we were never in the game. Brazilian team FC Cavera rolled Dongguan Koreans FC 17-0, whilst Red Lions (Dongguan) FC lost 4-2 to Winners (Hengli) FC. Murray’s FC Bilbao won 10-4 at XiHu. I may have to give my achille’s heel a rest, because yet again, that and the tendons on the top of my left foot feel like they are burning and ache very much. They feel fine whilst cycling and in the game. When I rest, that is when the pain comes…

I’ve been reading about Xiāngfēi (香妃), following a conversation with Wendy about butterflies. There are so many accounts and fascinating stories about the so-called Fragrant Concubine. Xiāng (香) is the same character as in Hong Kong (香港) meaning Fragrant Harbour. Anyway, Xiāngfēi is a most interesting story indeed. Now HubHao have paid me up to date, I may try to write about this. Tonight (Wednesday), I am going to see some jazz with Mark Lotz and A Fula’s Call. The line up will feature original African and modern jazz music with Mark Alban Lotz (Germany/Holland) playing the Indian flute; Omar Ka (Senegal/Holland) has the vocals and guitar; Afra Mussawisade (Iran/Germany) is on percussion with Abu Djigo (Senegal/Italy) on guitar also. So, a stiff-assed Brit will walk into a livehouse in China, to watch an eclectic and wide-ranging collective of sound. Can I get away with eating Turkish food for my dinner tonight?

Today, in HòuJīe (厚街), many fire engines and emergency workers attended a huge evacuation and fire drill at the nearby Wanda Plaza. Speculation of a huge fire, plants being over-watered was soon doused when an image of several dummies on the road was banded around by WeChat. I have had two grade 7 classes move this afternoon due to a membership sign up for the students to volunteer locally. Well, at least that’s what I was told… no teacher has explained it too clearly.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

February 2016’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

At McCawley’s a prize awaited…

2^nd February 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Last weekend was spent in Shēnzhèn (深圳). It costs just 45RMB to travel from HòuJīe (厚街) to Luōhú, a district immediately on the border of Hong Kong, with two busy crossings. My journey after the coachride consisted of a 4RMB Line 1 subway ride to Gǎngxià Zhàn (岗厦站). As convenient hotels go, the Haitian Hotel was well-located on Caituan Lu (彩田路), however I exited at exit B, did a full 270-degree spin of four major roads before heading the few hundred metres to the hotel. After arriving for 10.30am, I dashed my bag and belongings into the hotel before departing for McCawley’s Bar in Fútián Qū (福田区). What is with ex-pats and Irish bars? The first Manchester City Official Supporters Club (OSC) in China have located here, as the Shenzhen Blues. Katherine Li and Stephen Richardson (of Gorton and the Maine Road generation, who moved to China in 2008) led a building group of expats, Sun Jihai-born fans and founded the local OSC in South China. Even though, over the border Hong Kong has a growing OSC. Their focus seems totally aimed at integration of any nationality, upbringing, or when did they start following City. Together as one. The reason for my attendance that weekend was to join the McCawley’s Shenzhen 1^st International Football Tournament.

After breakfast at McCawley’s where they evidentally have an abudance of hashbrowns, we headed from the bar to the football by luxury people carriers. McCawley’s Cup poster. A fantastic sight to see how clear the Shenzhen badge of Manchester City Supporters stands out. The Red Arrogant Gits of Man Utd crest looks like a GI Joe style airforce badge. Our team would wear the dark blue away shirt of Manchester City FC. Pride in Battle indeed. The XL shorts, shirts and socks were too tight. I wrecked my socks in the first game. Torn to shreds.

So here I joined Alex (Dorset), James (Dorset), Dan (Israel), Kenny (Belgium), Vinny (Australia), Ray and Johnson (both China) with Katherine (China) featuring in the first game. All had valid reasons for following a club, not quite where they lived. I admire that. None had started following City after 2008. I doubly respect that. Stephen couldn’t play and a few others too. I didn’t expect to turn up, play straight away and feature in every minute of every game. As with organising football, 16 responses of yes can soon become 10 maybes… and when we started the 8-a-side tournament we started as 8 players. Johnson replaced Katherine after the first game. Katherine played a brave game in goal for the first game. When Johnson arrived, she opted not to play. We had no subs for any games! MCFC OSC Shenzhen beat Old Boys FC (a Celtic clad supporters team) in our first game.

We were told it’d be tough. MUFC’s Red Devil fans had won their previous game against Tottenham Hotspurs HK fans. After our first game we faced a non-Mancunian team, fans of ManUre – Shenzhen Red devils. Not one could point out where Manchester was on a map, and despite their unclean play, we won 2-0 in the really-mini-teeny-weeny-tiny derby. The clean sheet was a great achievement too. Not bad for only our second ever 8-a-side game together [without any substitutes to hand]. So, MCFC Supporters Club of Shenzhen claimed the McCawley’s 1st Shenzhen International Football Cup with a penalty shoot-out win. I’d scored from the spot twice that day and felt like I’d worked damn hard at right back/centreback. Our team gave 100% and played with a calmness of a team that looked mature and used to each other – odd. China may have invented the game of football but the standards here are lower than Hong Kong. So to beat two teams at 8-a-side from there was wonderful. I’ll certainly be adding them to teams Murray’s F.C. should face in the future.

Post-game we went to a beach, kind of, at Futian Beach (福田沙滩), an urban beach bar. The sausage roll, chicken pie, baked beans, coleslaw and fries with two Asda real ales went down well. The cool reclining deckchairs, ambient sounds and soft lighting certainly made my tired body want to rest. Following this it was planned to head back to McCawley’s. A shower was needed so, I skipped back to Gǎngxià’s paradise and had a shower.

At McCawley’s a prize awaited, a 1000RMB prize! McCawley’s is located 200 metres from the Ping An Finance Centre (平安国际金融中心). This skyscraper is 600 m (1969 ft) tall and due to open later this year. With 115 floors, it is the second tallest in China and the fourth tallest in the world. On Sunday morning, breakfast was had at the same bar. It was rude not to. And on arriving back in costa del HòuJīe (厚街), I met Marcelo and Marcelina ahead of their flight back to Brazil… at Murray’s Irish Bar. Monday passed by slowly, without anything of note other than Manuel Pellegrini announcing he’d leave at the end of his contract and City then saying Pep Guardiola would replace him. Transfer deadline day had been hijacked wonderfully by City.

So now, I’m sat here looking at world news, beginning to watch series two of True Detective and relaxing in the cold apartment. It is 4°C in here. At the weekend I had some sunburn and it hit 20°C in Shenzhen. What a weird winter this is?! I didn’t even know Terry Wogan had died until now. As a kid growing up someone’s persona and heartfelt words kept me watching charitable programming despite seeing heartache. He made you feel what was being shown. He helped you to face and respect many issues most aspects of the media hide in shadows. Aside from his humanitarian side, Terry Wogan struck me as a practical person, down to earth and respectful of those around him. His book Those Were the Days was a sweet affair and on reading it, it becomes impossible not to imagine Terry Wogan reading to you. Impersonated, loved, styled and replicated by many, he was a man many living rooms welcomed and few could change the channel, even if his pun-telling was off at times. With more than 50 years on TV and radio, the man knew how to adapt and earned the title of national treasure both in his home country and the UK. Throughout this time he remained loyal to his family and wife, showing a touch of personal class by not forcing fame, and simply being himself, unflashy and sophisticated in equal measure.

In my quest to get away for Spring Festival, I’m now toying with the idea of local journeys only [maybe to see the 26 minute long Chinese New year fireworks at Hong Kong]. When you see 100,000 stranded folk in the transit city of Guangzhou it desn’t appeal to travel right now. We’ll see. Tomorrow, I’ll ride my bike again. The best form of escape ever.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

We interrupt this broadcast to bring you some footballing thoughts…

4^th February 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

It feels good to be playing Leicester on the rise. They have good fans, down to earth. They have ambition, they have resource yet seem to know not to go over the top, probably based on recent ownership troubles. They are balanced in play, refreshing in their team work and effort levels. Aside from their obvious glamour name Jamie Vardy , who I seen play at Stocksbridge but he didn’t stand out, they have a squad that plays to their strengths. They don’t mess around, they often play simple football. Mahrez is an engine in their team that gets praise, but for me liek David Silva of old, he barely gets the plaudits he really deserves. They carried their form over from last season, like City in some ways, but unlike City they’ve maintained it. Ranieri is a grand leader, he’s like The Engineer, works out a tactic based on what is availabe to him. He is modest and keeps his mouth speaking the right words without drawing too much or too little attention. He has wit and class. His team breaks lines, they read the game but oddly they sacrifice possession to do so. I think they’re one of the best counter-attacking sides who know how to intercept the ball, clip possession from players and hit at pace. The Foxes aren’t here to make up numbers. It is easy to see why neutrals and even fans of other clubs are rooting for them. They have points to prove without the pressure of expectation. If Leicester do get the upper hand and go on t win it, it encourages all 19 teams in the Premier League next season. Maybe, anyone can do it, their way. Two league defeats (Liverpool away, Arsenal home) to date shows they’re good enough. Their 8 draws to our 5 suggests they also fight to the end… even their two domestic cup games were close calls.

To beat Leicester, City need to be absolutely at their best.

With regards to learning Chinese, I’m focusing on the subject of “Where are you from?” Going for purely basic subjects at a newbie level is helping my confidence and helping me to build on what I am listening to.

Lately my HubHao contributions include a shoe market guide; Mr Walrus singing Oasis stylings; some Tips for the Classroom (still not named teaching with tofu!) and one about not having an ayi. 39 of the 41 published articles can be found via this link. The last articles I wrote, to be published shortly are about Hash Harriers, and taxi drivers (although I may be using a pen name for this). HubHao have yet again failed to pay me (for a while), so I’m looking for a free transfer to either Delta Bridges, HereDG or That’s PRD magazines…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

To Gran and Ernie.

7^th February 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Two years have passed. Nobody wants to say goodbye. Luckily we don’t have to say goodbye. Those lives who Granny Ivy touched took a piece of her. Gran was wonderful, endearing, humble and stronger than an Ox. Gran pushed me to go to China long before I flew. On the visits to Gran’s flat in Failsworth, we’d sit and talk, about family, relationships, friends, books and ideas. Often ideas would be banded around, even if combatting Gran’s hearing aid in later years, and one idea was my desire to travel somewhere new, different and out of the comfort zone. I said how I’d like to understand a new way of life, maybe Japan, Africa or China. I’d listen to stories of Gran’s life, what the neighbours had been doing and descriptions of health in later years. Occasionally they’ll be moments of amazement, at hearing Gran describe how she wrestled a refrigerator around her flat, just to clean some dust or how she’d lifted the sofa up and lost a caster wheel. Gran was extremely independent. In her flat she had a book that would describe ow to fix or make anything. I’m convinced Gran was the author.

Gran always had an anecdote to break any silence but in truth she was an entertainer as well as a host. She had ways to describe the view outside, I never thought possible. Gran’s eyes and vocabulary always struck me as articulate but so, so modest. I’ll certainly always covet her oven bottom sandwiches with smoked ham and cheese. Nobody makes food like grandparents. Those lucky afternoons and evenings spent looking out that window were some of the happiest moments of my life. Totally contented and supremely comfortable. I was at ease and the world could not get me. No feeling of security has matched it since.

Born in Densmore Street in Failsworth, she’d never drift much further than this for home. Her school was Mathers Street Council School. On April the 13^th 1939, Granny Ivy became a machinist making night clothes for Smith and Nephew (a Hollinwood based company). By 1943, Granny Ivy swapped stitches for munitions and aircraft pieces at Avro Ltd. Granny Ivy married in 1949 to John Hitchin, and by May of that year my Aunty Carolyn was born. At an early age both Ivy and Carolyn suffered the loss of John Hitchin. He had a fatal heart attack in 1955. Granny Ivy was a widow, aged just 30 years-old. The following year brought loss once again, 1956, Ivy’s mother died aged sixty-nine. In late December 1956, Ivy remarried, to John Roberts. John came from a long line of North-Wales men. Susan Ivy Roberts was born upon the 5^th of October 1957. Soon after, Ivy’s third child Elaine June Roberts was born upon the 20^th of June 1961. Gran would marry once again, in spring 2005. Ernie Freeman sadly passed away weekly after their marriage. Fairclough Hospital, in Bury provided a cake and wedding ring. Imagine being so in tune with someone that you decide to marry on your deathbed in hospital. Gran being who she was obviously gave Ernie happiness right to the last moment. I’ve always seen Ernie as Gran as inseparable pair. After my sister was hit by a car, they looked after me. They protected me from the pain and uncertainty at the time. I was young and did not understand, yet they helped me through a tough period of my development. They met in 1989 and shared companionship until 2005. Many trips to markets, steam museums, museums and even just sat on Levenshulme station watching trains were to be had. Ernie and Gran both gave me an expensive and intricate steam engine model one year and I treasure it still. This summer it will whistle once again. I’ll clean it up and eat another ham ovenbottom in the Failsworth.

In a way, Ernie’s love of steam nostalgia has rubbed off on me. I have a deep respect for the olden days. The final piece of music before we left the ceremony of Ernie’s passing was that of a steam engine puffing up and sounding its horn. I miss Gran and Ernie dearly. I will always miss him and will always wish that I’d got to know him better. He was a very interesting man who I do admire greatly. Ernie was honest, caring and considerate. He was witty and a true gentleman. Though he was not my real biological grandfather, I will always call him my granddad. Even now, when I see something dismantled or in need of repair, I think of Ernie with Gran.

I know, to a degree, and understand, again only a little, the pains of life Gran faced, and she never, not even once complained or felt sorry for herself. She stood strong and led for others. In the face of the disease that is cancer that she battled harda against, she joked and laughed, and smiled right to the end. She may have suffered but she wanted her family to be stronger for it. I’ve failed many times in life, made many stupid mistakes and should try harder at everything. I owe this to the memory of those like Gran, no longer here and to my family here and now.

An environmentally friendly lantern of memory was released here in China, with love and wishes to Gran and all my family.

Similarly, Gran’s love and passion for reading has been passed down the generations. I’m still working on the novels and one day, one shall be dedicated, “To Gran and Ernie.”

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

新年快乐 / Xīnnián kuàilè / Happy New Year

Sink or swim. Xià chén huò yóuyǒng / 下沉或游泳

6 seconds ago

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

That’s the break in my posting to the blog over with. I have been busy writing a novel, averaging 2000 words a day for 3 weeks. The core and structure of the novel is in place, with the final dialogue and padded subplots all being woven in. It won’t be Shakespeare, Dahl or Crichton but it will be above average. I won’t attempt to publish it otherwise! Having had two authors read sections of the material and some minor changes, I am quietly confident.

Way back at the beginning of this blog, there was what I referred to as “Blue Monday.” On the 17^th of February 2014, I first stepped into a classroom at Dao Ming Foreign Language School. Fast forward two years, and today I am back. I remember that first ground floor class room experience vividly. I had class 701, the original class 701, who are now in grade 9, opposite my office. Whilst then I was worried and extremely out of my comfort zone, today I began on the third floor, as a fish is in water. In classes 802 and 804 today, we discussed Chinese New Year. The students have just returned and they’ve submitted their winter holiday homework books, received their initial homework sheets and look somewhat taller and a little refreshed. Comfortable, relaxed, contented and fully at ease. Whilst I have enjoyed the holiday period to embrace my freedoms, I have missed teaching. I feel revitalised and ready for the new challenge. My previously developed material has been deleted, not modified. I am starting this semester from scratch. New methods, new ideas and innovation.

This morning, I had the pleasure of welcoming students to school at 7am, followed by joining my new-ish colleagues for the opening ceremony of the new school semester. Tess has returned from the U.S.A. for her second semester here. We are joined by Arvid of Sweden (Gothenburg), Jack from U.S.A. (Michigan) and Beth from Kent (U.K.).

Last night, I played my first game for Murray’s FC, in what seems like forever. We were winning 7-2 when I left, and it transpired the scoreline finished 10-7 in our favour. Such, is the size of our squad, a second game was played simultaneiously at the same time, with a larger than usual scoring win. The bike ride there was a good slow roll (swinging by the lantern display in central Nánchéng) but the return ride was tiring!

I’m going to submit job applications with Manchester City’s Chinese offshoot. There a few points I cannot satisfy but I do have an ability to learn, as these last two years have shown. I don’t sink. I swim.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Add some vim

25^th February 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

When I’m not busy reading about the banning of bizarre architecture in China, I am busy. I personally think the Guangzhou Circle between Guangzhou and Foshan is pretty impressive. Anything that livens up the concrete maze of breezeblocks and cubist steel meshes, is in my mind positive. That applies to all countries and cultures. We need more modern artistry and more embracement of natural forms. Nothing can beat the Nordic houses on the Faroe Islands, the castles of old Europe and the majestic ambition of Blackpool Tower. Expression in buildings can be symbolistic to those around the creation. The Great Wall, Eiffel Tower, Palace of Westminster and more modern structures like the London Eye or Sydney Opera House all capture hearts and minds. Banning a curvy, shapely building stifles my mind. That’s why I am not the leader of a nation… everything would be blue and based on Maine Road or Manchester.

The return to school has been welcoming. As always the arms of the teachers are wide open for hugs and cheers of “welcome back!” have been heard. At least once. Maybe. Possibly. I heard something. Last Friday, three new teachers arrived to my school. Arvid is a very tall 19-year old from Sweden. He seems musically talented and carries a relaxed personality. He is certainly curious about Chinese customs and teaching. Then there is John. Thankfully we can call him by the name of Jack because his father shares his name also. With his very long moniker, he brings an interest in many sports and has already endeared himself to the local basketball culture. His talents also include singing. He has embraced KTV already. This is good news for the school performances that await us all. Beth arrived from Kent (U.K.) via Beijing. Beth has conservative values, a religious background and seems well travelled. This will certainly assist her in preparing for many classes going forward. Together with Tess, returning from the U.S.A. (not just U.S.A., add the too!), everyone has been bombarded with requests, procedures, information and much, much more. Yes, they have had time to adjust to the culture in Beijing but now they swim in the deep end. There are no sharks here, but buoyancy is key to a good swim. I’m confident in each and every team member. They can do it!

On entering my office, on the 5^th floor, of middle school, my teaching colleagues were cleaning frantically. Mice had, and have made the office their new home. The house of mice has yet to be found. They’ve nibbled some of my postcards, shredded a textbook and chewed various bits of my desk drawer’s contents. The little rodentia bastards! Hopefully they’ll move on without need for any extermination. I suspect, with teachers present, and food now entering the fray, that they may stay. After a little catch up over spicy hometown confectionaries (dare I say candies?) and local teas, the ball was rolling. Into the swing of things with grade eight classes filling Monday. Tuesday saw the resumption of service in grade 6. Grade 7 classes stepped into the equation on Wednesday. On Tuesday we began our foreign language teacher team meetings once again. This year Wendy, a new teacher, heads and assists us on all things academic and for the interns/Tess, most things domestic. I met Wendy via the company I work for. She assisted me at the schools in Baiyun and Nansha throughout those three weeks of teaching biology. I’m very confident in her ability and her “can do” attitude. Already, I have seen swifter turnarounds in questions with answers, and action for readiness, for example going into HòuJīe to buy cables to connect a laptop to the overhead projectors.

This last week, I have tried different places for breakfast every day. This is my new venture, breakfast by chance. I could happily eat some of the foods I have had for breakfast over that of milk and cereal. An expensive breakfast has become one of good value, very swiftly. I think I’ll write more about breakfast soon enough.

John Burns, from Murray’s F.C. returned from Blighty this week. In his bag were two pairs of football boots for me. Most importantly he also fetched me a bottle of Vimto and some Lancashire cheese. Said cheese was applied with sardines to a toasted sandwich last night. A first sup of Vimto since summer is to my left, steaming away in my insulated sky blue sports bottle. The teachers here are amazed by the fruity herbal smell of one of Manchester’s greatest achievements (supercomputers, mathematicians, scientific advances, sporting endeavours, technological pathways asisde). I may share it.

On the football front, Murray’s F.C. played two games, as different squads, on Tuesday night. My team won 11-1 against a Man U****d supporting team of local descent. I tested my new boots out and the laces are bobbins, they’ll need replacing promptly. I played left back and right back that day. It felt more natural than right midfeld and left back in the previous game. On the cycle ride there, along a cycle road, I listened to some Chinese music. It was too mellow to ride with. I will not make that mistake again. Around 15-20km each way rides are best with music to push your pedalling ability, not slow it up. The oddity of it all was, the nexy day, I ached like hell. Sore ankles, knees tired and thighs strained. Middle school, a student from class 803, invited me to join the morning exercise run. Whilst tiring it helped me to stretch out and end the strains of the day before. I may add that to my recovery going forward.

Murray’s F.C. are assisting a local football ground company Bosom, to formulate a larger than usual tournament for foreign teams and Chinese teams alike. I’m joining Eddy in a meeting with twenty plus captains and representatives of interested parties on Monday night. Monday the 29^th is the closing date for a position with City Football Group. I have submitted my application for a social media role based in China. Fingers crossed.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Not quite Weetabix.

25^th February 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Breakfast is tremendously important to me. If you were to ask my friends Pete and Dan, both will recall me eating Weetabix from a porcelain mixing bowl. The 12 Weetabix would soak up the milk, but not fast enough to turn to mush. I devoured them far quicker. A sprinkling of sugar on top added sweetness, or a few slices of banana when possible. Honey may have entered the bowl, but not so often. Anyway, when not ploughing throught wheat fields, corn flakes of many variaties and tastes would be subjected to a multiple bowl refill treatment. Without breakfast, I was and remain pretty much non-functional. Even a bacon barm on its own is inadequate preparation for the day ahead. Coffee has not been necessary, in fact since I left the U.K., coffee has barely featured on the menu.

Things I’ve had for breakfast:

·As popular as diǎnxīn (dim sum 点心) is, I rarely eat it. The small moist offerings are okay but not hearty (despite the Chinese meaning “touch the heart”).

·Zhōu (congee粥) is a weak porridge that the Scottish would label as pish. It sometimes is pish in taste, sometimes delightful. I’ve had chrysanthemum flavour, jujube flavour, pineapple and coconut flavours. If you like soup, this is the breakfast to hit. Expect odd bits of vegetables, fermented tofu, peanuts, eggs, and meats as toppings or in the mix. This is no substitute for those who love Shredded Wheat. It comes in a cup and costs around 3RMB.

·Bāozi (steamed stuffed buns 包子) sounds like the name of a small canine companion but they often have ground pork pastes, aubergines, eggs, spinach and so much more in them… some can be a surprise or a blend of surprises. The fear of finding one with corn inside doesn’t deter me. It happened once. The less said the better. These cost around 1RMB.

·Guilin rice noodles or various other noodle types. Upto 8RMB should be expected.

·Fried dumplings (Jaozi) cost around 3RMB.

·Yóutiáo (油条) are very oily like sticks of dough. This resembles a bread stick, but softer. These are often 1RMB each.

·Húntún (馄饨wontons) are dought pouches in an oily broth. I like the textures, the fragrances and the fillings. Mushrooms, shrimp and beef make for great fillings.

·Jiānbǐng (煎饼) are almost like crepes. The wraps can have a filling of almost anything. I particularly enjoy a beef, carrot, corriander and honey variety. 3-5RMB well spent. More fillings equal more pennies spent.

·Tāngyuán (汤圆) are round doughy balls. They are important at the time of the Lantern Festival (the end of the Spring Festival). They often have white sugar, red bean pastes, walnuts and jujube pastes inside their thick sticky rice flour. I think if you eat many of these, you will soon resemble a large round ball.

·Dòuhuā (豆花) means bean flower. It is tofu based and sometimes sweet. Sometimes it is sour with soy sauce. Sometimes it is salty like the sea. Locally, it is served alongside a scrambled egg and ginger. It isn’t terrible.

·Zòngzi (粽子) are best left to Dragon Boat festivals for me. They are glutinous, stocky and sticky. The dumpling of rice, is wrapped in bamboo leaves and then steamed. It isn’t that bad every now and then, and by every now and then, I mean annually. It will never replace eating Rice Crispies. 3RMB will almost certainly have been spent.

·Dòujiāng (豆浆) is a standard drink to be had. It is sometimes sweet or savoury. Simply made from good old soy. Great warm.

·Fanshu (sweet potatoes) are charged on weight. I usually pay 5-10RMB for a large one.

·Then there is the global basis for a hearty breakfast, boiled eggs!

Breakfasts here are quick, on the go usually. They are seldom eaten at home. Most people choose to eat their breakfast in the street. It may be purchased at stalls, food vendors or to be taken away. Morning drinks do not include tea or coffee – soy milk is mostly drank, as well as bean juices. People who skip breakfast are treated like lepers. Many of the foods are stodgy and heavy, some are not.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

January 2016’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….

2^nd January 2016

Year MMXVI: A New Challenge

It is a period of hard work. Workbooks and powerpoints, striking from a base in Guangzhou, have won their first victory against a teacher’s chiselled soul.

During the preparation, Worlda agents managed to create plans to deploy a teacher for two weeks at a new basecamp to teach biology [namely Mendelian Genetics and Plant/Animal Cell Biology]. In Baiyun and Nanshan, are large high schools with enough students to populate an entire planet.

Pushed by Worlda’s staffing agents, John races aboard his coach, custodian of the powerpoint and lesson plans that can save his predecessor’s work and restore structure to the school’s lesson flow…

[Everyone is banging on about the latest Star Wars movie – and it doesn’t come out until Friday the 9th of January here!]

The final frontier

5^th January 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Last Thursday was the final day of the year and also my final day at Dao Ming Foreign Language School. Completing the Grade Six oral English exams that morning amongst three classes wasn’t particularly taxing for me, but some of the students did show an unnecessary level of stresses. Twitching of the eyes, nervous jolts of the head, eyes shy of direct contact and overall worry. They needn’t have. Only three students today scored less than 80%. None of the three students have been at Dao Ming longer than this semester. One student retook his exam due to the fact last time he scored 3% – but today he scored 55%. Some students looked so chilled out, deadened by a continual flow of mock exams, tests and examinations. Homework related previous papers are not uncommon. Results had been compiled and sent to the teachers at the end of the day. Like my first entry into school, I slipped in and out without any drama.

During the final day however the school show was great fun to be involved with. My peers Tess, Asger, Anna and Albin gave their all and we delivered a good musical/dance number. Our act featured some Beatles songs and Morecambe and Wise’s Bring Me Sunshine. For 15 acts before and 4 acts following the students from various grades demonstrated acting, comedic and dance talents giving the 2016 Arts’ Festival a real sense of variety. The initial hundreds-of-balloons launched may cause a few animal deaths and some low level plastic refusing to go away, but it looked good for the camera. Oddly, students were picking up more biodegradable things like paper and lecturing each other about the possible environmental impacts! Start small, I guess!

The teachers and students work damn hard – too hard. They are driven by the school’s high demand for quality output. The school has pride – but it works the students above and beyond to achieve their goals. I hope for the students’ futures, it pays its dues. And that was that, the day ended alongside a semester and year.

After a quiet new year (I went to see a movie Mojin – The Last Legend [Guĭ Chuī Dēng Zhī Xún Lóng Jué/鬼吹灯之寻龙诀 – starring Yáng Yǐng AKA 杨颖Angelababy,Shū Qí – Lín Lìhuì 林立慧 ] that finished just after midnight, as if nothing had happened – because to most Chinese people, the Gregorian calendar is not the norm…) and a weekend of rest, I headed to Huánggé Zhèn (黄阁镇) in Nánshā via Guǎngzhōu along the Guǎngzhōu Dìtiě Sì Hào Xiàn (广州地铁4号线/ Line 4 of the Guangzhou Metro).

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Beware of close relations with the platypus.

7^th January 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Don’t fuck a platypus. That’s what the sign should read as. I’m stood looking down, dubiously at the do not disturb sign. I’m angry. Even if I hang it outside, it means nothing. The Chinese characters beneath the English state the same: shut up; shhh; hush hush; please be quiet… I choose not to hang it outside. It wouldn’t make one iota of a difference to my night’s sleep. I know I’m in for a rough ride. Two nights have passed here. Tonight is the final one here at the 99 Inn, Nánshā. If heaven’s forbid, it is on Tripadvisor or some such hotel and travel website, I will slate it until it sits within inches of Dante’s Inferno. Don’t get me wrong, the room is good. It is spacious, airy and clean. The raised sleeping area with the near submerged desk and bed give it a Japanese style, although one rushed by Ikea’s flat-packed furniture. The television faces the bed, offering escape and laziness at the click of a button, from the comfort and warmth of the cradle. I’ll forgive them for offering two pairs of lounging sandals, with all the key foot massage points elevated. Even the bathroom mistakes are laughable – but hardly an inconvenience. A toilet roll holder beneath the shower. Who does that? No door. Privacy at its best. The hotel is on Jin Tao Da Jie (off Jintao Road, amongst the Jinzhou Plaza) in Nánshā having only recently been rebranded as 99 Inn from Lidong Hotel.

The first night, I managed to get to sleep sometime around 3am on Monday morning, having despatched myself under the covers 10.30pm on Sunday. The neighbouring building and the very same building both had KTV/bar/nightclub combinations. On Tuesday after school, I did look for another hotel but discerned they all seem to neighbour entertainment complexes. The reasoning behind my search, was getting to sleep around 2am on Tuesday morning. Again, I’d fled to bed early the previous night. With no alternative forthcoming and my company saying they’d fix it next week, I fell asleep at 9.30pm. By 10.30pm I was awoken, this time by a live band, howling fans and would stay this way until 3am. In amongst it all the Police and some criminals re-enacted a Benny Hill TV show chase scene, with added sirens. And knocks on the door. And tannoy announcements locally. I had checked every floor of the hotel for possible quieter rooms, but there were none. So, up at 6.30am I checked out of the hotel (booked by David at my company – which I shall take more interest in, going forward). I shall never ever return there. I’d rather chance myself sleeping in the sea (in, not on). After the slowest check-out from a hotel ever, I managed to make my 7.55am class at Guangzhou Foreign Language School (广州外国语学校 Guǎngzhōu wàiguóyǔ xuéxiào), five minutes late. That was okay. Two classes followed and I was whisked by the school’s private driver to Báiyún Qū (白云区/Baiyun district).

Sprawling outwards from beneath the white cloud mountain, the Báiyún suburbs are dense and mostly occupied. Greenery is present but in patches resembling a decorator’s radio with paint splatter. Actually, maybe less than that! In the early evening, following two back to back classes, I was assisted by Wendy from Worlda to check into a new hotel. All roads in China seem to lead to 7 Days Inn [7tiān Liánsuǒ Jiǔdiàn Jítuán /7天连锁酒店集团]. A peaceful night’s sleep was had, following a very large meal for one.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Is there life on Mars?

12^th January 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Am I Professor Snape? At times it feels like I’m in a perverse anti-Harry Potter World. Somehow here, yet somehow not here (simultaneously, at the same time). The school I am in, looks on the surface like the high school I went to (Reddish Vale Technological College), yet somehow feels closer to the mutant baby of Hogwarts and a prison. There’s the military precision of order – with very little notion of the normal chaotic Chinese time sat behind it. Every office desk is in a cube, beyond that more order, and far along the corridors, very organised classrooms. Door handles may be missing here and there, but this high school is ran well. The captain of this vessel knows their biscuits from their cookies. The layout of the buildings has structure, uniformity and a pattern. It has to. There are more than two thousand developing souls at various stages of puberty roaming around this campus. They are damn bright too. The elite of the cream of the crop of the pinnacle of the apex of their generation, is still an understatement. Most students in the Advanced Placement programme building are on a par with the most fluent of westerner. They probably have a deeper vocabulary, and have shocked me a few times already with their wide range of understanding. It is no surprise China is picking and finding the bright sparks to push them forward. In my biology classes I am teaching Mendelian Genetics to the two Senior 2 classes, spread between 6 classes. Senior 3 class is learning about animal and plant cells over 6 classes. Senior 1/2/3 (at Baiyun campus) have to learn Meiosis and Mendelian Genetics across 15 classes. The level of content is analogous to that of what I learnt at university!

The reason I am teaching biology is because my company needed a cover teacher. My predecessor (the long-term teacher) fell ill and has returned to Canada. I hope he is well soon, it did not sound like a good position to be in! His cover teacher also left. So, Worlda, knowing that I was free asked me to cover. I’m not a person who says no. I also need the money. I am inexperienced teaching high school and rusty with my biology knowledge (I’ve not studied much since university!). Alarm bells rang initially. Then, I faced the challenge head on. Worlda, eventually put me clear and a previous cover teacher, Ishit from India, helped tremendously. The jigsaw pieces fell into place. It transpired each class at the Nansha campus holds around 20 students and in the Baiyun campus, just 9 learners. With the previous teacher’s PowerPoints, notes and lesson plans to hand, I dug into the challenge. Professor Google and Doctor Wikipedia met with Chancellor Slideshare and pooled their talents. The Holt McDougal Biology textbook by Stephen Nowicki landed on my desk on Monday morning, almost shattering it. I should mention my first class was at 10:40am on that day, and I arrived to school with 20 minutes to spare. My co-worker just made it!

High school biology in China is like entry level university. They have textbooks for biology and enviromental sciences, amongst others, I’ve only ever seen at university and specialist bookshops. Not only that, the students are the cream of the crop. All are leaving after summer, aged 15/16, to go to Universities in and around the U.S.A. The first two classes were surprisingly okay, then the third was just so so. Oddly, that Monday’s classes mirrored the following Monday’s classes. The students on the whole seem energetic, buried in school work, textbooks and homework. I don’t give homework but I do tell them to read up on each subject, and they seem to do it: I’ve seen notes and they’ve told me so much more! Being the school swat must be damn hard here. Each student is so very, very bright. At their desks they have tools, non-primative ones, like laptops, pens that can scan English and translate into Chinese characters, phones, electronic dictionaries – and so much more. Whilst some of the boys sit at the latest Alienware laptop (high end sh!t), they don’t play games or surf the web. They have privileges and clear goals. I guess the fear of parents knowing that they’re wasting their hard-earned is enough…

The classrooms are small, twenty desks and some peripheral furniture. Students live nearby in one of the many accommodation blocks but judging by every covered surface, you’d guess they spend 80% of their time in the classroom. The main projection board has all the latest touchscreen technology, smartboard or something, and a tiny chalkboard sits next door. The teacher’s desk comes with a PC, music system, secondary monitor and all mod cons. Luxury. The only odd thing about this school, is that there are three other foreign teachers in my office – and so far none have said much more than hello. Even the Chinese teachers in here are extra, extra silent. If a pin drops, it will be heard. I guess it is the pre-exam time being hectic or demanding, physically and mentally.

So, on Sunday I returned to Nansha – and thankfully a different hotel. I slept well at what I think is called the Baishui Esplanade (there isn’t really a walkway nearby) Hotel. It was odd to be greeted by ten ladies at the door. It seems there is a massage service. No, thank you! I’m happy because my box room has a carpet and a fantastic rainforest shower. My second night’s sleep was wonderful too. If I return to Nansha, ever, I’d stay there again. That’s how confident I am about they final night’s sleep there! There are two restaurants next door and no signs of anything else – and Wanda Plaza is less than 2km away, offering a selection of western/Chinese dishes – and the big brand restaurants, like Master Potato. Peace and quiet, after last week!

Hearing the sad news about the passing of the music icon David Bowie, made me think, “How good was he?” Bowie was better than The Beatles. His songs, from across 29 albums, span across is 69 years on Earth, or was it Mars? As a kid, I did not get his music and then over time I matured and grew up listening to his art. The materials he made were a canvas of imagination, soul, blues and beauty. Don’t get me wrong, there was darkness, depth and sorrow but overall his music was pure escapism. Anyone who can create an iconic character and then re-enter music under multiple styles and genres deserves respect. And he could act, Labyrinth was such an iconic movie.

“Look up here, I’m in heaven, I’ve got scars that can’t be seen, I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen, everybody knows me now.”

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

The Buddha of Suburbia

13^th January 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

A new day has come blasted out over the school’s tannoy system, after lunch on Tuesday afternoon. It seems that every day 2pm, following a nap, students and teachers must suffer at the tones of Celine Dion. I actually love the song but to be woke by it, would be hell. Tuesday morning’s first and only class in Senior 2/7 flowed reasonably smoothly. In the afternoon I had classes in Senior 3 and the quieter students in Senior 2/6 followed up afterwards. In Senior 2 we finished Mendelian Genetics ahead of Wednesday morning’s examination. I was tasked with supervising said exam. I had been briefed on modes of cheating, flying drone alerts and much more. I wasn’t quite sure if I was supervising school students or Daesh invaders. So, during the exam I spotted one student intent on looking at another student’s paper far across the desks. He knew it too. We played cat and mouse all class and I’m convinced said student actually answered very little overall. I shall see, as I have been tasked to mark the 49 papers! They’re sat opposite me giving me the evil eye.

This afternoon, following lunch (and my 0755 class for cell biology in Senior 3), I departed by private driver (arranged by the school) to Baiyun for two classes, where the Senior 1/2/3 combination of 9 students started the topic of Mendelian Genetics. After school I checked in at the 7 Day’s Inn once again. It isn’t as swish as the Esplanade in Nansha [南沙区环市西路海宁大街110号 (毛家湾饭店旁边)], but it is sound enough. It might be slapped in the middle of a very heavily populated and dusty suburb, but there is beauty here too. The sunset tonight was brilliantly bright. Tomorrow, I have two classes and one on Friday morning. Next week, I have to mark the Senior 3 Biology exam papers and run the Baiyun campus examination… then mark the papers too. The good news is that next week, I have no classes. I’m not sure I am needed for the three days of work, but we shall see!

Murray’s FC started up again last weekend and on Tuesday night I missed my second game. This excursion for work phenomenon is disturbing my lack of fitness regime. I haven’t ridden my bike since last year too.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

I’m gonna start a revolution from my bed

21^st January 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Just as my hometown mighty Manchester has the National Cycling Centre – that has become known to the world as a medal factory, Hong Kong and beyond should have their eyes glued on the Hong Kong Velodrome. This venue has all the potential for stars to work their way up the ranks. Attending the UCI Track Cycling World Cup, I could see instantly the presence would only act as a beacon of hope and inspiration. Those who were there will have taken heart and shall deliver the message beyond the atmosphere-capturing doors. The young tiny tot Striders may be a few years away from battling for medals and glory but with event like this, there’ll be more than enough talent raised in Hong Kong.

The event and venue just needed a proper kiosk/shop (there was a limited selection outside on a table top), canteen area and better provisions for ticket collection on the day (advance tickets could be collected at selected outlets, most of which opened at 10am/11am… Saturday’s doors opened at 9am). The venue had adequate signage (although the external areas, I’d day there was too much signage!) and very good toilet facilities. The seating was adequate and comfier than Manchester’s Velodrome with excellent sight lines and two huge screens in perfect balance to one another with respect to contents. The banister around the outside of the track was replaced with a glass partition, offering temptation to lean upon. A bannister inset of this would have done the trick better and discouraged trackside leaning. The PA system did the job, but sadly my Cantonese is non-existent. Times of races/schedules on a wall board would have been useful to accompany the very sparse programme content (although, I shouldn’t complain – it was free). The track and venue look brilliant and I’m sure in time more colour will be added to the vibrant feeling ambience already in place.

I had a wonderful time at the 24th UCI Track Cycling World Cup third edition and look forward to possibly seeing other tournaments there. The venue and organisers should look to the Revolution Cycling series in the UK/Australia… and if you they have that, I’m over the border from China in a split second! They’ll benefit from regular top-level competitions too. Races that stood out for me were the semi-final sprint between eventual winner Patrick Constable, a 20-year-old Aussie against Bolton’s Jason Kenny OBE (who is still only 27-years-old. After already sending out Damian Zielinski (Poland; UCI World Cup leader and overall points winner after the tournament ended) from the running for gold, he beat Shurshin (a very strong rider indeed). In the Keirin Matthijs Buchli held off Canadian Hugo Barrette crowd favourite to steal away the gold medal.

I remember seeing Jason Kenny in the Revolution cycle series way back as a Future Stars competitor. I hope defeat here, pushes him on for the World Track Championships (London, March) and Rio 2016. 23-year-old Laura Trott earned an Omnium event Team GB gold, holding off U.S.A.’s experienced 32-year-old Sarah Hammer. Trott also claimed silver in the Scratch Race. There was silver in the team sprint for Jess Varnish and Katy Marchant; and silver too in the Team Pursuit for Emily nelson, 21-year-old Cardiff born Elinor Barker (a name I heard often at the Manchester Velodrome), 26-year-old Welsh representative Ciara Horne and 27-year-old Joanna Rowsell-Shand. There is room in each Team GB’s medal cabinet and their collective Palmarès can only increase in depth and content.

Other stand out races included 33-year-old Simona Krupeckaitė who swept away Stephanie Morton in a whisker of a win to allow Lithuania to claim gold in the women’s Keirin final. The Canadian team (Laura Brown, Stephanie Roorda, future star 23-year-old Germany born Jasmin Glaesser – who had a rough tumble after the race, ) claimed the Team Pursuit gold (she also claimed silver in the Point Race). In the men’s Omnium Thomas Boudat claimed gold, but for the final Points Race it was all between him, Lasse Norman Hansen of Denmark and the large-framed Artyom Zakharov of Kazakhstan. Manx Missile Mark Cavendish claimed fourth spot in the Omnium. Personal favourite and muscle man Robert Förstemann had a few rides but was beaten by his German junior opponent early on. The standard of the sprint cyclists has so much depth – with tactical awareness and speed of reaction allowing for no margin of error in this sport! Robert Förstemann is well known for his 74cm thighs, but few know that he once had a race with a toaster (click and watch the video!).

Closer to home (present home) 25-year-old Chinese powerhouse Lin Junhong pushed aside her opponents in the women’s Sprint honours, followed by 28-year-old local superstar 李慧詩 (Lei5 Wai3 Si1 – more than 4 tones in Cantonese; also known as Sarah Lee, which sounds like a British gateau brand). 李慧詩 also came third in the Keirin and was promptly photographed continuously for by what seemed like half the stadium. 22-year-old Yang Qianyu came third in the women’s Scratch race, allowing Hong Kong once again a bronze medal. Xu Chao, of China, landed silver. He is but 21-years-old and lost both final Sprint races to rookie Constable! Guo Shuang (郭爽) retained her World Cup points winner title from the previous year holding off 李慧詩 by 37 points overall. There are some wonderful cyclists already in Hong Kong and China – and I can see the Rio 2016 Olympics featuring one or two names on the medal podiums. Something big is on the horizon…

In amongst the best part of 20 hours of cycling spectating there was little time for anything else. The Hong Kong Marathon was observed in passing, and not as intention. The heavy rain and sweeping wind did little to inspire me to join the running masses. And in Hong Kong, I had a good night’s sleep, three times… all be them, expensive ones. Nothing is cheap there! Pizza was pricey; food was often expensive; drinks are not so good value for money… but transport was good value. Just. I will not make an effort to go to Hong Kong again, unless something catches my eye, like a luxury bed-shaped bicycle (I spotted in one shop on the way out). I also intended to visit Marks and Spencers (Hong Kong) for Lancashire cheese, but left little time. Odd, that in the U.K., I’d never seek out M&S (there are some in Shanghai too) for anything, yet here I am and at every opportunity I try to buy a cheese I hold dear to home!

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Shining Haven – International Tests!

21^st January 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Yet again, I find myself in the Baiyun ShiJing 7 Days Inn hotel (the first week I had room 711; last week room 811; and this week I am in room 611 – next week I want to win a Porche 911, but I know I’ll just get the number 211 bus). This week I was told to go to Baiyun’s campus of the AP programme. The school is linked to the group, Shining Haven, which sounds a tad James Bond baddie-like. I thought the school was named the same as the one in Nansha, Guangzhou Foreign Language School (广州外国语学校 Guǎngzhōu wàiguóyǔ xuéxiào) but in fact this school in Baiyun has the title The Experimental School Affiliated to the Guǎngzhōu College (广州市广大附属实验学校). I went to North Trafford College, Reddish Vale High School, Chapel Street Primary School, Clayton Brook Primary School and New Moston Primary School. These are all simple names. Like the typing up and calculating of school scores for the Senior 1-3 classes, the names of these schools are overly complex.

The Senior 3 papers arrived yesterday, E.T.A. was 9am, and I was told to be at Dao Ming School to collect them from a delivery driver at 10.50am, 11.30am and then on my fourth visit to school they arrived at 1.30pm. Papers were promptly marked with scores averaging above 70% in Senior 3, class 5 and one student getting 97%! Oddly, and slyly they dropped in ten extra papers completed by Senior 3, class 6… and the scores ranged from 2% to 87% – with 9/10 papers failing. I was later informed this class had abandoned Biology classes long ago. The formality of marking the papers was the purest form of time-wasting tedium. Senior 2 papers had been marked last week and returned with good grades all round, and only a handful of students failing. I suspect the multiple changes of teachers failed them, more than they failed themselves. I argued this point and backed the students recommending a weighting be allowed for this. Meanwhile, Senior 1 at the Baiyun lair of Shining Haven completed their Biology papers. I was told, set the work at Senior 2 level. I did just that. 5 of the 9 passed the paper, with all students eventually passing the course based on their assignment, homework and classwork performances. Some achieved great scores, some not so. Again, they have had too any teachers before them. That and 8 exams over two days do not bode well for fantastic scores. I wish them well, but I do feel sorry for them. They’ve has Ishit from India, Mark from Canada and me amongst many teachers. Too many styles of teaching, too many methods and too many content gaps. Too much homework, too many tests and too little freedom. I’m of course part of the problem, a teacher. If I wasn’t here, somebody would fill the void. I like to think on top of the subject, I add character and culture. If the students here don’t remember Meiosis, Mitosis and Mendelian Genetics, they’ll remember one Mancunian and his love of sky blue.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

All hail the Monkey King

29^th January 2016

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Frustratingly, I’ve been unable to Skype or call my sister back in the U.K. to wish her a happy birthday (back on the 20^th…) but I have found a gift (to be taken home in Summer) that I know she’ll more than appreciate. I can’t say anything in case of the secret being outted but I am in state of pride that would frustrate those who believe in the seven deadly sins.

The office at Baiyun has been the most pleasing aspect of teaching this last few weeks. Michael as leader has a tight-knit team in the well-travelled and homeless-person-lover that is Channing; the intelligent and wise Yolande who hails from somewhere near South Africa’s Durban; the sweet natured Chloe (who is still studying a course in Western Translation Theories); the pretty smiled Jean who I don’t think I ever saw without a beaming grin and was ever helpful. They teach subjects as varied as Mathematics, Chinese, History, Litearture and act like a family to their tiny nine student class. They treated me to a fantastic meal, full of spice and flavour, on the Wednesday night. With teachers and students as bright as this, there is light in the world. They’re on the side of the angels.

Last Thurday night, I spent it in the 7 Days Inn hotel, I had a fright. Thwack! A gothic butterfly impacted my noggin. I don’t know why it chose the course of flight into my bonce, but it clearly wanted to be let out. Since when have moths taken this drastic action? Don’t they know my sleep patterns are bad enough! I peeled back the anti-mosquito netting and let the moth slip away into Guangzhou’s night sky.

Since ending the semester’s work at Baiyun, I returned for two games of football with Murray’s FC. Both had faced cancellation. The first because of light rain. The Brazilian team in essence backed out because they knew the weather would level the balance between them and us and them and us. The Friday night previous we held a barbecue to celebrate Marcelo and Federico leaving to Brazil and Argentina respectively. A few Guangzhou Strand ales were had. The midweek game flushed away due to the torrential monsoon-like weather. It has been cold in the last two weeks. At the weekend the first recorded snow since 1893 was sighted. I sighted it too. It wasn’t much but it was beautiful to see such large snowflakes in a place I associate with steaming unbearable heat. Children, teenagers and adults alike with agasp at the snow. Phones and cameras were out in force. The elderly looked amazed. I think now, they have seen it all. Shopworkers dashed outside and even the coffee shop I visited was at standstill. The thermometer also hit 0°C over two days. This is sub-tropical Dongguan – and some of Hong Kong etc also had icy spells. Manchester and northern England had seen warmer weather that weekend. This was a beautiful moment. I can’t imagine having never seen snow upfront. I’ll imagine that’ll be my reaction when I finally one day see Everest, or a Whale Shark, or the Steppes of Xīnjiāng. I think it is important to remember the feeling of awe. Wonder and reverence can keep us feeling attached to youth.

Today, has been warmer, 14°C. The walls and floors outside the apartment are equally slippery. Two days of torrential rain hasn’t helped. The midnight storm engulfing nearby Wanda Plaza’s towers.

A few winter holiday plans have been scuppered by either budget or varied forms of inavailability. Plan A: no internal flights beyond Kathmandu possible, as all booked solid. Plan B: most parts of Tibet are closed to foreigners. Plan C: landslide has destroyed road to Déqīn 德欽. Plan D: Turpan (吐魯番, Tǔlǔfānin in Xīnjiāng) is closed. Plan E… watch this space.

IMPORTANT HEALTH WARNING: Don’t watch this movie. Even if someone suggests to watch 蒸发太平洋 as a way to relax, feel free to use excessive force. Are you a fan of Brandon Routh? This will destroy that fanaticism faster than a Man U****d fan’s love for Louis Van Gaal. This is a movie guilty of mixing too many genres, wooden acting, the concepts of Jaws 3D and splicing something together as bad as dolly the sheep with a bull’s dick. Pinewood Iskandar Malaysia Studios needs to stick to Marco Polo efforts and not B-movie relics. If you hear Zhēngfā Tàipíng Yáng being mentioned, back away. Vincent Zhou should be ashamed. I guess a movie with bit-part The Walking Dead actors has no legs to stand on but Zhāng Yǔqǐ (张雨绮) will star in the up-and-coming Stephen Chow (周星馳) movie The Mermaid(美人鱼) and he has made great movies like Kung Fu Hustle Movie and Shaolin Soccer. The movie Lost in the Pacific is so far from great, it deserves to be straight to TV, early hours, and not straight to video. In the meantime, look forward to The Mermaid and The Monkey King 2 (西游记之孙悟空三打白骨精 Xī Yóu Jì Zhī Sūn Wù Kōng Sān Dǎ Bái Gǔ Jīng) – a sequel to The Monkey King. Besides The Monkey King reminds me of family…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

December 2015’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

I’ve lost my Stinky Tofu virginity

4^th December 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Last weekend flew by like a Russian aircraft imposing upon another country’s airspace. Stinky Tofu (chòu dòufu 臭豆腐) was finally tried on Saturday night, alongside some scrumptious fish and chicken dishes along a riverbank, in strewth knows where because I wasn’t quite sure. It could have been Daojiao or Songshan Hu (Lake)… I honestly don’t know which area I was in, such was the nature of the bus journey there. The bus seemed to slip back along riverbank roads, squeeze down sidestreets like a four-wheel drived vehicle, swerve and dart aalong narrow lanes before arriving at the destination I was reliabily informed as being “there.”

There are many ways to make Stinky Tofu (chòu dòufu 臭豆腐). In traditional methods a brine made from fermented milk, vegetables, and meat is involved. Regionally, the brine may also include dried shrimp, mustards, bamboo shoots, herbs and more. My portion was deep-fried, rich in coriander and accompanied by very spicy sauce. It actually tasted very meaty and rich in flavour, once the initial smell by the nose passed. Afterwards, the smell seemed to disappear. The aftertaste was incredible. Very, very full-bodied, satisfying and warming. I can now see why it is so popular. I certainly won’t be rushing to try locusts, cicadas, sparrows, duck blood soup, BBQ Chicken Ass, Bull Penis, chicken in pig intestine, like Williams Davies Jr in Hubhao’s Hardcore Food Challenge column but his first challenge of stinky tofu now seems a soft one, at best.

On Sunday night Murray’s FC faced up to Sociali FC again. We came out victorious with an 8-5 victory, “Fede Express” scored five to give a healthy win, despite the game being a tightly ran 3-2 (in our favour) at the interval. Last night (Tuesday) Murray’s FC drew 2-2 with Red Lions Dongguan FC and Cavera FC claimed the title, holding off Murray’s FC Aberystwyth in the league table on goal difference. I feel completely worn down, have extra shin bruising and my joint ache. I need a rest.

After yesterday’s primary school meeting-middle school meeting-class-classshorter lunch, no nap (winter is coming)-class-class-VIP class-performance rehearsal-home for pasta-cycle to football-football-cycle a little way back-fix puncture-cycle back-try to wind down-sleep for after midnight. During the day, grade 6 classes (classes 608, 607, 606 and 605) were golddust in my desert of scarpered soul. They really enthuse for lessons and give that little bit extra. Their level of humour is just right, just innocent enough to avoid words learned by grade 7 that Father Ted did ever so well to mutate to “feck” in order to beat broadcasters. The boys in grade 7 are all going through that phase of having to use it at every conceivable opening. The problem is when it starts off, they all carry it on, a little like class 704’s love for the word fish. They’ve managed to put the two words together in a kind of local curse which sounds like a clothing brand. 90% of the time I ignore the foul curses and they fade away. The other 10% of the time I can explain it to one or two students and they get it. The prospect of soap washing their mouths is not welcomed. Not that this is my threat. Chinese insults and abusive curses heard by teachers will be met with this punishment. The odd thing is… the school bathrooms haven’t had handsoap in them for well over 12 months. Maybe this explains where the soap is.

With respect to the performance here is the song and dance plan. There are a few notes and all is subject to change. This Thursday we must show it to the school leaders in period 6. To date, we have rehearsed only twice. Yesterday and earlier today. This lunch time and evening are going to be tiring. All this running around, it is so tiring. No necessary pain, no comprehendible gain. Tess is clearly passionate for dance and has heavily influenced the choreograpy. Albin, Anna and Albin, the treble As of Dao Ming helped select the songs and added plenty of ideas along the way. I just turned up.

Here comes the sun

Little darling
Its been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling
It seems like years since its been here

Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
And I say
Its alright

Little darling
The smiles returning to the faces
Little darling
It seems like years since its been here

Here comes the sun (du dn du du)
Here comes the sun
And I say
Its alright

0:00 – 0:58

John (sun center) starts on stage

One person comes on each side of the stage

Next two come on

Put the sun together, sway a hot sec

Boy/girl partners link arms and spin

Ensuing do do do do rays spin away

Back to sun formation

Sun prop [polystyrene, chopsticks, tough card/resin, paints, paper, the amazing art skills of Tess]

Help from my friend

What would you think if I sang out of tune
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song
And I’ll try not to sing out of key

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mmm, I get high with a little help from my friends
Mmm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

What do I do when my love is away
(Does it worry you to be alone?)
How do I feel by the end of the day
(Are you sad because you’re on your own?)

No, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mmm, get high with a little help from my friends
Mmm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love

0:55 – 02:02

Turn around sunrays to find letters for HELP. ! ON ROUND part of the sun

All have placards with the letters to HELP! We start the word in reverse order “!PLEH” before Albin rearranges them unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a t-shirt with the word friend on it.

Bring me sunshine

Bring me sunshine in your smile
Bring me laughter all the while
In this world where we live
There should be more happiness
So much joy you can give
To each brand new bright tomorrow
Make me happy through the years
Never bring me any tears
Let your arms be as warm
As the sun from up above
Bring me fun, bring me sunshine, bring me love

Bring me sunshine in your smile
Bring me laughter all the while

02:15 – 03:16

Grab umbrellas

Spinning, open in front of us

Close umbrellas on emphasis 2-1-2

Dance routine loosely based on Morecambe & Wise.

A Hard Day’s Night

It’s been a hard day’s night, and I’d been working like a dog
It’s been a hard day’s night, I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you I find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright

You know I work all day to get you money to buy you things
And it’s worth it just to hear you say you’re going to give me everything
So why on earth should I moan, cos when I get you alone
You know I feel OK

When I’m home everything seems to be right
When I’m home feeling you holding me tight, tight, yeah

03:17 – 04:11

Asger: marking school homework, piled high on a desk

John: All enter wearing sunglasses and affix sun prop together

Anna: (as above)

Albin: (as above)

Asgar: (as above)

School desk prop, with piles of school books and a stupendously large red pen.

Keep your head up

Only rainbows after rain
The sun will always come again and
It’s a circle, circling around again
It comes around again

I said only rainbows after rain
The sun will always come again
It’s a circle, circling around again
It comes around

But, you gotta keep your head up
Oh oh
And you can let your hair down
Eh eh
You gotta keep your head up
Oh oh
And you can let your hair down
Eh eh
I know it’s hard, know it’s hard to remember sometimes
But, you gotta keep your head up
Oh oh
And you can let your hair down
Eh eh eh eh eh

Keep your head up
Oh oh
And you can let your hair down
Eh eh

04:12 – 05:16

Exercise dance

Hey-ho

My Spring festival finishing date is January the 1^st… but because we have that day off for a holiday, it is December the 31^st. The return date is either February the 18^th of February the 22^nd. Time to budget (tightly) and plan the 50 plus days inbetween. I expect learning Chinese, writing and sightseeing are on the agenda.

Just watching the news on TV regarding the UK’s debate on airstrikes in SyriaBombs fix things. Simple. They fix the potential for global escalation of warfare, the arms industry and possible extra pipelines. They fix hate into the physche of the desperate, the radical and the stupid. They fix the need for global powers and regions to split apart. Troops on the ground moderating and ending genocides, villages under occupation, etc are fare bettter ideas but equally complex and why should anyone in the world care about that in this day and age when we’re too busy fighting over discount TVs at a Friday non-event that was never previously a non-event but now we’re enforced to believe it is a non-event that is worthy of promotion to the Champions League of non-events. Nuclear weapons are there for a reason, use them. The worlds gone to shit since humans came about, and the Mad Max utopia doesn’t look that bad, unless you’re ginger. You may get sunburnt. All this is because of ISIS. Everyone should direct their abuse to ISIS. The International Species Information System is inncent though.

After wèishénme (why?) comes shéi/shuí (who?)… Chinese can often seem like reverse engineering and in trying to understand a different language I’m torn between literal translations and learning by examples. Instead of thinking, that is a little apple, should I be thinking “tā shi xiǎo píngguǒ.”

I’ve just exited class 704 which refrained from using the fish word, although one potty-mouthed boy keeps directing his obscentities at me. I’m not proud, but I gave him a lesson in humility and after that he fell in line. All of his teachers have real problems with him. He is the smallest student and did not enter Dao Ming until the beginning of the year. He has a very cruel smile and also a demeanor where he does not try, he just expects. To the credit of the whole class, the team with the student insistent on the word fish, actually controlled the rest of the class. Midway through, one boy even admitted they were too naughty and were sorry for their behaviour in the last few classes. With exams looming, they know they have to up their game with respect to oral English lessons. Class 702 before them were equally well-behaved and tried equivalently as hard. The difference there being that six students were constantly using glue sticks to make small rubbery balls of glue. When asked about it, they’d respond uniformly as, “We’re making snow.” The answer clearly intended to justify their actions and for me to allow said motions to pass. It was quite a quiet non-distraction and didn’t stop the students talking in English, so why say no?

This weekend I shall mostly be watching曼城 Màn chéng (Manchester City) on their quest to be Guàn jūn (Champions) in the Yīng Chāo (Premier League). I may or may not be calling into Hong Kong for the 2016 Christmas Santa Stroll. I’m hoping I can, but is so expensive to go for a day out there – and a night away is far more expensive there than in the U.K. Having skipped a game for Murray’s FC last night due to school work, I’m skipping Murray’s FC’s Footgolf trip to Mission Hills tomorrow too. There is a Craft Beer event in DongCheng I’ll be missing too. So much happens, all at the same time. Isn’t it always the way?

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

An optimist went to The Optimist (and came out optimistic)

7^th December 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

So, that’s that. The weekend moved before me like a blink of an eye. Luckily the exhaustions of last week are behind me and the week ahead can be greeted with energy. With respect to how much positive and negative energy is anyone’s guesses. Looking at my recent niggling injuries and fitness, most of the griping pains have eased to nearly nothing but fitness still remains average to below average.

At the weekend Manchester City Football Club Official Supporters’ Club Hong Kong branch has their Santa Stroll. The stroll started at the closed Trafalgar Brewing Company 2 in Wan Chai, a wander to the nearby ferry, over the sea into Kowloon’s Harbour City [It looks great, it is clean, it is busy, it is tidy. It isn’t for me. Malls are for those shopping and those who love it. It seems to have everything, yet nothing.], a walk around some stores and back. Along the way chocolates and sweets, with Christmas cheers were given out, for free. Many a bemused onlooker asked questions by the becketload and many a photograph was taken. The sky blue Santa Claus costumes stood out from Hong Kong’s winterwearing public with ease. With the air temperature cooled by blustering rain and howling wind at around 14°C, it felt like late autumn back home (to a degree). As the Star Ferry, named Northern Star (北星號 in Cantonese) set sail, the waves lifted her gently, placing her bow down with a smack and splatter of spray. The gentle chorus of “we’re going up, we’re going down, we’re going up, we’re going down…” could be heard in amongst the engine grinds and whistling wind at the windows. As the vessel landed, our sky blue army spilled out onto the pier like the sea soothingly caressing disturbed sand into a smooth surface. Not bad value for HK$3.4 (on weekends, it is a little higher than weekdays). The diesel-electric ferries are to Hong Kong as the tram is to Blackpool, a tough of nostalgia and decorum. Jump on board, dream a little dream, this is the boat to take you from A to B and on the way, switch off and take in the majestic scenery.

Or you could take a tram in Hong Kong. The Hong Kong trams are tiny and busy but they have character and draw in the attention of those on board. I love hopping on and off these shopping trolleys on acid.

During the weekend’s wanders of the wonderful ways of Hong Kong I sampled many great foods. The first being a Californian-Mexican venture I’ve eaten at before and the last meal being one at The Optimist. Located at G/F-2F, 239 Hennessy Road, Wan Chai it is worth noticing the outside façade stands out. Emerald green tiles and large iron-looking windows with a sideways passage reminiscent of an old public house greet you. Modest signage and little décor simplify. As the waiter opens the door, a wide feasting area and bar greet you. Up some stairs, decorated with a menagerie of images you enter a larger dining area. Up top on the third floor is an impressive open-plan kitchen and classic feeling furniture. Nothing appears false of cheaply placed. The lunch menu, though concise, featured many dishes of variety and depth to please the palate. Opting for shrimp tempura, a Spanish omelette [with a very mouthwatering bravas sauce], aubergine fries [with honey and Kimuchi sauce] and ham with mushroom croquettes [I haven’t enjoyed a croquette as good as this since the 1990’s when my Nana used to make them] in a starter of tapas wasn’t a bad idea. In fact it was bloomin’ gorgeous. For the mains I had a medium-rare minute steak baguette, with mushrooms and cheddar cheese (give the option of pickle/pastrami and they’d be on to something…). I was full. I’d ordered dessert and was greeted by the best potted cheesecake ever. The strawberry coulis sauce was delectable and scrumptiously running amongst the thick cheese to the crumbly biscuit base. The side cappuccino and a flow of water with bread and dips prior to food arriving made for a wonderful touch. Not having and clearly saying no service charges or extra costs were to be made, I did something I have never felt compelled to do. I tipped the waiter. Not only that but I even calculated 15% in my head, thinking and knowing they deserved it. I’ve never been an optimist about eating western-style food in Hong Kong, but now I am.

“You’ve gotta pick a pocket or two.” Hmmm… a song apt for this morning’s stroll to work. I live 500 metres from school. On exiting the gated gardens of … I enter a small square area, cross over Liaoxia DaDao and walk less than 200 metres to the school gate. As I crossed the road something seemed odd. I could sense someone very close. And not a student. Thankfully I felt a hand and stopped the man escaping with my keys. He legged it. I went my way. Always be vigilant. Just another reminder that closer to new year, thefts and pickpocketing rises in China.

I made the mistake of looking at Facebook earlier and was instantly hit by the number of dirty laundry messages. You know the kind, the xenophobes and harbingers of doom. Living in China at the minute, and with all the armed police here, X-ray checks, double standard treatment (if you’re white and western, you can sometimes skip security checks quite often), police everywhere (there was an entire stand at the football once, chock full of coppers, and not a steward to be seen), and generally feeling like a policed state… thank feck the UK isn’t like this. However, if the UK’s intelligence services and democracy panders to the call for arms to be more freely deployed it is terribly worrying. Where did we go so wrong? I don’t want watchmen on every corner judging me and my fellow man. Fight terror and the hatred of Daesh with love and carry on the way we did when the Nazis were on the doorstep of Britain. Keep buggering on.

Monday’s classes passed by with no real concerns noted, other than students’ tired attention spans and constant talking in classes 801 and 803. The Chinese English teacher can’t instill discipline into either, but luckily 803 are massively enthusiastic and try hard. There are 9 girls to 27 boys in that class. It is an odd balance. Class 801 is the smallest class with just 26 students. That said the hierachy is a tough one, with only 8 girls. The boys dominate class dynamic behaviours and activities.

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Sun and anarchy

9^th December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Comparable to a dogfight in the movie Star Wars, cycling on the roads of Dongguan can be eye-opening. I always ride with a helmet, lights and appropriate clothing. I tend to stick to the rules that have kept me alive back in Blighty. Stopping at red lights, avoiding pavements, giving way to large vehicles such as buses and lorries – and so on. Last night’s ride back from football made me think, as I often do on bike rides, “Do people have common sense?” This isn’t me having a pop at the Chinese, this is simply me slating the often reckless behaviours of others that I have encountered here. The questions below will assist in your own judgement.

Is it safe to undertake (on the nearside) a slow moving lorry with only the tiniest of tiny gaps before swerving on front of it’s path to turn left (across the lorry’s driver’s side)?
What compels someone to cycle against the flow of traffic on a road with 6 road lanes either side? [Are they depressed? Do they need to call for help?]
How many people should sit on a pushbike without an engine? [Is three or four inappropriate?]
How wide should a thing be when carrying it by bike? [Are two metre tall ladders acceptable when carried wide, rather than long?]
Should you modify a bicycle to have one wheel bigger than the other? [A BMX wheel on a mountain bike, is it wise?]
Should you talk on the mobile phone whilst riding? [And is it okay to use messenger services typing in the missive?]
If you enter a road from the nearside, should you look before entering it? [And then, why on Earth would any sane person ride to the farrest lane?]

Following last night’s 5-1 win at football for Murray’s FC, the ride back was equally as interesting with activity happening left, right and centre, but I do wonder, why? Why, why, why? Why?! Stay safe people. Don’t be stupid.

Oh, and it is raining, heavily now. The temperature has barely hit 17°C in this last week. Some of the players at Murray’s FC turned up in thermals, trenchcoats, gloves and scarves. I can’t relate to the feeling of cold as much yet, but when it is damp here, you can feel it. It is very damp today (like a soggy moggy). Winter is coming. That said, the forecast for the week ahead includes highs of 22°C and lows of 14°C. It won’t be long until summer time…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Strange fruit

14^th December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

“Once there was a mountain called peak 15. Nothing was known about it, but in 1852 the surveyors found it was the highest in the world and they named it Everest.” After umpteen countless myriads of attempts at editing the soundtrack for our school performance, Friday I have finally had the “Eureka” moment and thanks to the software Audacity, I’m onto something. Yesterday, I blended the vocals we have sang, with the backing tracks and added a few unobtrusive sound effects to balance the levels but it needs more work. Of all the musical events during school, I am the mist confident about this. The first semester Children’s Day performance with Esben, Liam, James and Birgitta was wonderful and comedic. In my second semester Micaela, Kira, Joe and Emily performed a Disney medaly but my heart wasn’t in it and on the day it felt so flat. I let the side down. Semester three swept along, giving us Children’s Day once again – adding colour and joy with Mikkel, Liane, Catherine, and Andreas. Now all we need are sunglasses, some colourful t-shirts, a few more rehearsals and we’re good to go. We won’t quite be The Play That Goes Wrong or The Beatles, but we’ll damn well give our all… or 32% of our all at least.

Spring Festival is looming and all I seem to hear is, “John, where are you going?” “John what are your plans?” “John, are you going home for the break?” “John, why don’t you go to blah, blah, blah?” My inaudible answers are ones of I’m still looking. They are often met by peaceful reminders that “the world is your oyster”. Plan A isn’t written off. Plan B of西藏 (XīZàng /Tibet) is near unattainable until April due to government restrictions on tourists domestically [even as KFC plans an opening there…]. The dream places of Lhasa, Shigatse (you can see Everest nearby!), 昌都地区 (Chāngdū Dìqū), Ngari, Nyingchi, Nakchu, and Shannan…

After school Friday, I zipped back to apartment, rushed over to a shop near LiaoXiaWeiLiXinCun 7^th alley and the North Ring Road. Outside the store I noticed boxes of trainers and shoes with some close to my size recently, so I made the effort to return. I searched and found a black with red trim pair of skateboard trainers. Happy with my find, I went in store but then decided to ask if the shopkeeper of there was any more sized 49/50 trainers. She said she’d look. Immmediately she found crates with some ideal but lightweight trainers. I selected two further pairs. As I paid my 390RMB (Roughly £39.00), she gestured to me to drink tea. Her husband arrived and suddenly I have a rice cake in my hand. As I glug the first Chinese cup (like a small saucer, but more 1950’s B-movie UFO-like in shape), the lady gives me another pair of trainers for free. Soon her youngest boy arrives home from school. It transpires he is a grade 1 student at my school. He practices his English with me. His two younger sisters are transfixed on me. One can toddle, barely older than crawling age. The other is only just a kindergarten student. As I try to scatter from the welcoming shop (I’m in a hurry to go to a party in Dongcheng), another child arrives [One child policy?] and it is a student from my grade 6 classes. I recognise him straight away. He is a shy boy with a slight nervous twitch that causes him to flick his head back and forth whilst talking. Another cup of tea is thrust into my hand. My student and I talk as his family look on amazed at their child’s ability. Not once do we get lost in translation and the conversation flows well for two cups further of tea. The tea is delicious. Armed with my pigeon Chinese, I bid farewell and thank them for their hospitality. As I depart, yet another pair of trainers is stuffed into my bulging carrier bag. Am I a caterpillar?

With the shoes plonked in the apartment, a swift taxi journey to Dongcheng to meet the folk of Hubhao and enjoy their Christmas revelry. The merrymaking involved a random prize draw (I won two bottles of imported French red wine) and a White Elephant gift draw. In essence, you bring a gift valued between 50-100RMB, place it on a table and collect a draw ticket. The first person opens a gift-wrapped present, and there their turn ends. On successive turns, each individual may open a new present or gets the choice to pilfer another person’s gift. I unwrapped my gift to reveal goat’s milk soap and some towels, so I stole from Oggy his toy football set. He now had the goat’s milk soap and would remain to have it indefinitely. Later June, Eddy’s girlfriend, filched away the football set, leaving me with two books. The two books remained in my custody. One of which is a Chinese illustrated book, translated painstakingly by pencil (until the half way point of the book) and the other, I can’t remember the title… but it looks interesting! Adam Crase at HubHao is a fine leader of group activities and events. His promotion and marketing work is fantastic. HubHao has so much potential but is limited in resource and is only growing slowly but steadily. As local area magazines go, it is edgy and spirited – open to all in the community. Since its launch, it has kicked Here Dongguan’s magazine into a healthy competitive drive that has boosted innovation and information locally. There is room for both, and in some ways, both fill in gaps left by the other. I personally think, they need to merge and utilise each other’s resources as alternative rags. After an excellent buffet and some drinks, I headed back to Houjie in a 70RMB taxi journey (expensive for that time of night, but lately taxi drivers are becoming hard bargainers.

The following day, Saturday, was the Murray’s FC night out. Eddy and Weng booked a large KTV room with three microphone stands, multiple seating options and ensuite of sorts [it had toilets set inside for our use only]. Many spirits had been purchased and smuggled in via various means. Weng assisted me at KFC, next door to Nancheng’s Rubiks Cube KTV (located within One Mall’s gargantuan location), in acquiring two drinks cups to decant my velvety but piquant tasting blueberry-tinged single malt whisky. The night started around 8.30pm and ended up in Murray’s Irish Bar by 1.30am. After 2.30am we retired to Eddy’s gaff to play FIFA 15 (it’s in the game) and generally continue the party. Over the night we shed many of or 40 plus crowd. As we hit the last four men standing, I scattered by taxi [70RMB again] to Houjie – and was tucked in, asleep for 6am. It was to turn out that Sunday was to be a write-off. Aside from a tired conversation to home and my Aunty Carolyn back in Manchester, sleep and inactivity was the order of the day. Rest and recovery.

Today, I feel a tad annoyed. On Thursday and Friday, I discussed the plans for the remaining 4 weeks for the foreign teachers with Miss Jiang, the head of foreign languages (Cherry was off enjoying her honeymoon). We decided that this week would be best to start the oral exams, use next week for Christmas – it being the week of Christmas, and use the following week to continue the oral exams. That would leave one more week for Tess, Anna, Albin and Asger to complete the oral exams and also allow some final week activities. For me, it makes sense, Christmas in the week of Christmas. So, I relayed that message to the other foreign teachers by word of mouth and in WeChat (a phoneapp messenger we can use, that leaves accountability by way of message histories being stored). On Friday, I went to photocopy my 350 oral English exam papers but the copiers were out of action. One for today. On checking my phone I see Cherry and the other foreign teachers are confused. Miss Jiang has changed her view and wishes to start the oral English exams next week. This does not make sense. In the end Cherry has asked for one revision class and a Christmas class this week. Next week oral exams can be begin for the other foreign teachers. Whilst it doesn’t affect me directly, it does make me wonder the value of conversations, discussions and ideas. The negative part of me is fuming and thinking I should avoid being involved with any leadership. Why do we ask questions and discuss ideas? The positive spark, subdued probably in a combination of exhaustion and dehydration, is up and active. Get on with it, forwards and not backwards. If it was simple and easy, it’d be boring. Euphoria, exultation and elation can defeat downfall dreary dread and dullness. Let’s bamboozle the past by learning from it and moving forward.

At least I have my horned melon to try tonight. Known by many names this fruit resembles a Hedgehog. Cucumis metuliferus, horned melon or kiwano, also African horned cucumber or melon, jelly melon, hedged gourd, melano, in the southeastern United States, blowfish fruit. In one supermarket I spotted this fruit for 38RMB, complete with a straw inside the box. So, on spotting one for 18RMB in another store, I figured now is the time to try it. More to follow.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Toilet humour.

December 14^th 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Qĭngwèn, cèsuŏ zài-nǎ? (Cheeng-wern, tser-swoh dzigh nah-urr) 请问，侧锁在哪儿？

Every now and then I have to use a public squatter toilet. Now these toilets are the pits – and I mean it. Yesterday, I located a convenience without convenience. It was a long grey slit on the Earth, encased in a tiled block, so dreary in décor it could have doubled for an abandoned building, lost in time. Instead it had a sign, with the Chinese word for toilet and specified the genders. I opted for the sign saying man (男 Nan, a stocky character with a big head – not 女 Nü, said to resemble a woman’s figure). I should have stood outside and crapped my pants. I hate squatter toilets for many reasons but one jumps ahead of others. It burns my calf muscles! My calf muscles hate squatting actions and I can feel the strain on my meniscus (the fibrocartilage strips behind each knee). My other key issues are:

Tissues. You have to pack a bulky packet for every journey, no matter how short or far because nobody wants to be caught short. Tissue paper cannot be flushed. It must go in the overflowing volcanic looking bin that resembles something from Swamp Thing. I pray for the caretakers who move such industrial waste.
Baggage and clothes. Now, often toilets don’t have a hook or for that matter anywhere to hang your bag. I’ve implemented into my travel bag a hook, to hang my own bag over a toilet cubicle wall, or affix to any bar (provided it can take some weight). If no one is there to hold onto your bag, it can be a pain. Also, you have to pay so much attention to not letting any clothes drape or droop on the floors. Sometimes they can be dirty – and often wet from humidity, messy previous users, very soggy cleaning skills by caretakers etc.
Knowledge. To a degree, knowing where toilets are, whether in a restaurant or coffee shop etc, it is useful to know which places have clean, tidy and functional pans.
Communal toilets. So instead of cubicles, you have no walls, no boundaries and sometimes to make it entertaining two rows of toilets will face two rows of toilets. So, if you look up, it looks like the bemused Chinese man opposite you is inspecting your movements. Then you could look down to avoid the obvious stares, but you’d be facing a grim floor. Look left or right and nine times out of ten someone else is watching. Look up and your balance may be thrown off. It is best to power squeeze and escape quickly. Once someone took a photo of me in action. I daren’t ask why and the look of shock on my face as they ran off with their prize quickly turned into a bemused, if not a little psychotic, laugh. Privacy invaded. I’m told making eye contact or looking down is frowned upon. These are two things I’ll happily avoid.
The squat itself. I’ve mentioned the pain. I’m told the grooves either side of a Chinese toilet are where you put your feet. No thank you. If I do that, my large body frame will miss the dropzone and the bomb-bay doors are far from the target with no windage for added guidance. Also, the grooves are often the muckiest, wettest unwelcoming area on Earth outside of Old Trafford. I’m told the squat is the healthiest way to pass your body’s excess detritus. It is not dignified and never shall be.

I must admit to rarely having to queue in China for a toilet, but I have had to wait once or twice for someone who has emerged on their phone and clearly been on said phone for some time and thus frustratingly not using the toilet for the purpose of the toilet. So, if you can and you’re in China, write a letter to the China’s National Tourist Administration about toilets being bad. One small step for civilisation is needed. There are star ratings for public outhouses and so far I have yet to see a good public loo. My ambition is to use the Tiger Leaping Gorge (Yunnan) toilet. Going to the toilet, here, there and everywhere is necessary – but so are tissues, hand gel, a sense of humour and a sh!tload of humility. There are many survival guides, handy tips everywhere (World Toilet is amazing! By amazing, I mean I am amazed someone has put that together… for the benefit of society?) – but I’ll never enjoy crouching, bending my knees or hunkering down.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

“I am sheep”

17^th December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Whilst looking up the character for man, I found out that 男 has two components. One being 田 field, and one being 力 for strength. I guess there was an old fashioned feeling that men would be strong and work in fields. A book called the imaginatively titled Explaining Simple and Analyzing Compound Characters says as follows, “Men rule on affairs of the outside.”

Okay, so let’s look a woman or 女. It is said to look like a woman’s figure. This is the most beautiful of the characters?! If you see女in any character, a woman is involved: 妻 (wife), 妇 (housewife) and 媽 (mother). The upper part of 妻 (wife) is a broom. The creators of these characters were chauvinists in a time ruled by field going strong men.

The more I read about characters, the more I understand – even if I don’t remember them.

Some are simple, such as 一, 二, and 三 for “one”, “two”, and “three”; and 上 for “up”, 下 for “down.” Some are tougher but equally interesting, 安 “peace” is a combination of “roof” 宀 and “woman” 女, meaning “all is peaceful with the woman at home”). Then there are the pictoral characters,山 for mountain, 人 for man, etc.

I quite like learning about Chinese and the cultures within and from those who have visited China but for every simple element there seems to be a pitfall or something equally as difficult. The six groups are quite clear in form but there are far too many characters to learn and understand. 象形 Xiàngxíng, pictographs “depicting directly”; 指事 Zhǐshì, ideograms “pointing out the facts”; 會意 Huìyì, ideogrammic compounds “combination of meanings”; 形聲 Xíngshēng, phono-semantic compounds “form and sound”; 假借 Jiǎjiè, phonetic-loans “under false name”; 轉注 Zhuǎnzhù, reciprocal meaning “turn and pour”.

Even if I poured my heart into it, I’d not have the time. 仁 (ren) the left side 亻signifies man, the right side is the number two, 二 (er). Somehow it means the relation of man to the dignity/ethics and earthy things. So, 仁 (ren) actually means goodness, heart, compassion and the desire for others best wishes. In the beginning kids are taught the simplest character of one, 一 (yī). There’s tonnes of philosophy and history behind this simple character. Previously to female (陰 yīn) and male (陽 yáng), only一 (the One) existed as the creative power; the Entirety, the Tao. There are lots of texts, e.g. The Epochtimes, around to explain the One or陰 yīn/陽 yang. If you seek complexity, look at義 (meaning loyalty, justice and honesty). I can see羊 (sheep) on top and 我 (I, myself) below. Sheep are tasty. Fact. Sheep are also obedient and kind in nature. Sheep, are seen as a symbol of good luck and prosperity in China [like the Superman symbol elsewhere]. Some translate it directly as, “I am sheep.”

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

The bipolar sunshine of 7th grade

18^th December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Wagons are rolling, they’re rolling along the pathway of the final 9 days of school. As the 31^st bears down on me like an allied/Russian/Syrian/Turkish [delete as appropriate] jet flying at a terrorist/peaceful/opposition [delete as inappropriate] target in Syria. This is the last act, the final furlong, the end of the world is nigh, semester one is almost over. As is traditional at school, the school performance rehearsals are deep into the final fine tuning and shaping for the show. Here we go again, whammy… we’re on the road to Wembley… or the curtain call. Wednesday’s classes in grade 7 were fantastic, with students engaging questions and answers at levels of 100% in each and every class. I applied the rule, “each student must try otherwise your team cannot win” and to be honest every student tried at least twice. The four forty minute lessons in classes 701, 702, 703 and 704 flew by faster than Superman racing a speeding asteroid. As an extra incentive, each winning team gained two sweets (candies) and the runners-up had half the prize. It wasn’t much but after 48 winning sweets and 24 secondprize winners, that’s 72 candies from bags that usually total 24 at most for 6RMB each. That’s 18RMB or around £1.80… and I’m from northern England. And today, I returned to grade 7 for classes. Class 702 were a delight and each received a candy Christmas treat – before asking me to play a short Christmas video or song and then singing Frozen‘s Let It Go. Class 704 were 50/50, at best, in terms of effort. I rewarded the top two teams. This class features several very naughty boys, one of which wrote an English phrase“f%*$ you” on the board and told me, “I am beautiful like an ar$ehole” in Chinese, followed by “you are a yellow movie star” – yellow movies being the Chinese equivalent of blue movies, or porn. His teachers do not like teaching him and I can see why. The boy who usually says “fish” and “bird” frequently during class, didn’t say it once though, so manybe he is getting bored of it too. It turns out “bird” is slang for penis. That’s why I am often asked, “How big is your bird?” followed by giggles…

It is 9°C here and 16°C in Manchester right now. Manchester is finally warmer than here in Houjie (South China)! This hasn’t happened this year, from what I have seen. Enjoy your warmth Manchester because winter is coming…

Oh and Wuzhen has been plastered on the news – world news and not domestic news, that is. A few bureaucrats from countries that appear to silence freedom attended the World Internet Conference. Cyber sovereignity sounds like a virtual reality queen, and precisely the thing they want to block! Who exactly watches the Watchmen?

Now, I’m going to listen to some Bipolar Sunshine before lunch and a rendition of Jingle Bells infront of the school leaders.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Autographs later: “We are 20 million strong!”

Dàlǐngshān, Liáobù, Chángpíng, Shílóng, Wànjiāng & Wàngniúdūn

18^th December 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Dongguan has just been awarded the title, “City of Forests”…

I am based in Houjie, but there are many more districts within Dongguan than my realm. Houjie has some odd titles and is up there with all thoughts that sway towards where-did-they-get-that-name-from? “Town of Hygiene in China”, “Famous Town of Exhibitions in China”, “Town with the Strongest Education in Guangdong”, and a “Civilized Town of Dongguan City”. There’s a sports park (体育馆), Fushengang (福神岗), Henggang Reservoir (横岗水库) and Dalingshan (大龄山). More info on Houjie can be found here.

In the meantime, here are six local areas…

Area

best reached from Hòujiē Zhèn (厚街镇) by bus(es) (Houjie):

Reasons to visit/Places to eat or drink/Landmarks etc

大岭山镇

Dàlǐngshān Zhèn

L5A: Dongguan Central Bus Station – Songshan Lake (6:15-20:30)

Main stops: Dongguan Central Bus Station, South China Mall, Keyuan Garden, Guangcheng Culture Square, West City Gate Tower(Ying’en Gate Tower), Economy &Trade Center, Jusco, Labor Bureau, Education Information Center, Power Supply Company, Dongcheng Center, New World Garden, Dynatown Residential Garden , Yujing Residential Garden, Huying Park, Dongguan Xiangshi Zoo, Songshan Lake

This area is pretty big, it has a forest park that covers many small mountain peaks. Within Dongguan it arguably has some of the most remote and quiet of areas. There is an entrance to the western area of the park on the border of Houjie, although by bike or on foot it can be a pretty steep climb. If you want to see something really unusual, go to the Anti-Japanese War National Base (1937-1945). You’ll find it in the romantically named Dawangling Village Revolutionary Site. The Memorial Museum of Dongjiang Column is well worth a look.

To the northern aspect of this region sits Songshan Lake Established areas sit alongside more modern technology parks with tourism far and wide. Snake soup, Dàlǐngshān Roast Goose (head to Xiangdong Road in Ailingkan Village) and Hakka Casserole Dog Meat [no thank you!] can be found on a few menus. Look out for the delicious Hakka radish rice. The local government website is here.

寮步镇

Liáobù Zhèn

Liáobù could easily translate as concrete in some ways but don’t be fooled. Beyond the bright lights of western bars like 28 Over Par there is much more to see and do. This area was founded in 627-649 (Tang Dynasty) and has changed a little since. Liáo means huts. Huts appear all but gone alongside the HanXi river. Rice, lychees, longans and other fruits are numerous here from season to season.

常平镇

Chángpíng Zhèn

L3: Dongguan Central Bus Station—Changping (Yingxian Villa)( 6:00－20:00)

Main stops: Dongguan Central Bus Station, South China Mall, Keyuan Garden, Guangcheng Culture Square, Donghu Residential Garden, People’s Park of Changping, Changping Bus Station, Yingxian Hillside Resort

Changping Town, belonging to the city, is the vital hub of Guangdong-Hong Kong Railway, Guangzhou-Shenzhen-Hong Kong High Speed Railway, Guangzhou-Meizhou-Shantou Railway and Beijing-Hong Kong Railway. Within this realm there is a leisure and resort park of sorts. There is also a link about this area here. This is the aptly named “Famed Town of Best Logistics in China.” Where do they think these names up?!

石龙镇

Shílóng Zhèn

L2: Dongguan Central Bus Station—Shilong (Jinsha Bay)( 6:00-19:45)

Main stops of the L2: Dongguan Central Bus Station, South China Mall, Keyuan Garden, Guangcheng Culture Square, Dongguan University of Technology – City Campus, Fruit Wholesale Market, Liuhua Park, Shijie Government, Yuan Chonghuan Memorial Park, Shilong Railway Station, Shilong Zhongshan Park, Shilong Jinsha Bay

Shílóng is famous for weight-lifting. In 1984, Shilong gained the honorary name of “Town of Weight Lifting.” There is history behind it and a statue.

万江街道

Wànjiāng Jiēdào

Look for any bus going to the Wànjiāng bus station, often referred to as Dongguan Bus Central Station.

The Wànjiāng region has history dating back to the Ming Dynasty (around 1464). Heritage and culture can be found here. Such as the Tower of the Golden Turtle Oasis, which is listed as protected by the provincial government; and the Lv Dongbin Temple, the Ancestral Hall of Surname He, the Ancestral Hall of Surname Hu, the Ancestral Hall of Surname Xie, and Chongguang Institute. Wànjiāng sits on the DongJiang river.

Wànjiāng has an excellent street for sports gear, known far and wide within Dongguan. There are many good places to visit in this distict.

The notorious South China Mall is located here complete with indoor rollercoaster, theme park, cinema, restaurants, themed areas and a vastness of emptiness.

望牛墩镇

Wàngniúdūn Zhèn

Wàngniúdūn is known more for the dragon boat races that occur in the LiaoXia district every year alongside the DongJiang river, with some side channels offering entertainment or great photography options also.

Local foods include Duwu baked goose, Xiacao fish balls and three-boiled bones. Hand-picking (Shouzhua) is also present. Xindiancheng Road has an interesting arrays of foods.

My favourite thing about this town, is the title it once earned… “the town without unverified internet cafee.” This town also holds this title, “the town with the strongest education in Guangdong.” Is there a “town with the most peculiar and inexplicable title” yet?

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Why do I enjoy teaching?

18^th December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Why do I enjoy teaching? Let’s be fair, by comparison I’m not doing half the job that the Chinese teachers here at Dao Ming do, and nor would I ever put myself in that demanding position. Nor am I teaching in the U.K. where it seems every second news article seems to report about the poor teaching pay, union strength and so on. I know my role here is one of authenticity and to help further the students’ spoken English skills – and help them be confident. Some classes are hectic, eventful and sometimes students are preoccupied, over-worked and the classes may have fell out of my control before I’ve stepped through the door. Sometimes, I have to accept, I can only do my best, lead and let the students follow. Today, I have been harried by students in the afternoon periods. 703 and 701 delivered tremendously and two Cadbury’s Miniature Heroes were given to the winning teams in class 701. The remaining students and each student within class 703 had just one small chocolate. All seemed appreciated and the thank yous came thick and fast. I did not expect a pen with a little note in return. The little gift is wonderful. The best gifts though are ones where you see how quickly students have changed in a short space of time. Apprehension replaced by eagerness. Worry replaced by confidence. Indifference swiped away and interest in place of it. Industry triumphs over idleness. For no matter how hard I think teaching is, learning a second language is just as hard, if not harder. My students must learn English, whereas I choose to learn Chinese. Without choice, necessity demands on your soul and mind in ways I cannot understand. There were no repercussions for not learning German at Reddish Vale High School for me. Here, if a student doesn’t learn English, their highy contended places in High Schools are waved away. Entrance exams are a key to a different world. I’ll let others debate the use of English to the Chinese whilst I embrace an overall fantastic day at school. What I like about Dao Mingf Foreign Language school, is that this school emphasises the need to speak English – and not just quote, copy and paste text or memorise a paragraph. An effort is made to make the language tactile and useful in everyday life. There isn’t a push to become a robot, or precision memorisation apparatuses. The skill of memorising is there, but not as badly pushed as some state schools. The school has the objective to provide a foundation for students in the future.

Globally English is the most used language by number of countries and regions it is spoken in. Spanish, Portuguese, French and German are widely spoken but to less lands [even if English spread due to our dark colonial past/often English is the second language of countries that speak Spanish, Portuguese etc]. Mandarin is much more limited in its global reach although the most spoken language on Earth. Most employers look for bilingual speakers in terms of jobs flitting between different territories. In the entertainment business, English speaking bands tour the globe with ease and English movies are common in most countries [even if subtitles are affixed]. Science has been globally communicated in English forms, especially common units. As sad as it is, English speakers (for example, in the United States) earn more money than non-English speakers. It can increase your standard of living. Also, as demonstrated by many students today, it can arm you with weapons of cheekiness. Cheekiness is a good quality, when deployed skillfully.

Why did I enjoy being taught?

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Shèng dàn kuài lè [MERRY CHRISTMAS] 圣诞快乐

19^th December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Shèng dàn kuài lè圣诞快乐. Merry Christmas to each and every one of you, whether religious or not religious. Let’s embrace each other culures and wish for a fantastic festive season. Whether you are here, there or everywhere, enjoy this season and be jolly. Stay sensible – and if not, have a drink or two too many (if you choose to do so).

Nadolig Llawen i chi

Feliz Navidad

愉快な

Lystig jul

Рождеством Христовым

Vrolijke Kerstmis

Natal feliz!

Joyeux noël!

Fröhliches Weihnachten!

عيد ميلاد مجيد

শুভ বড়দিন

Nollick Ghennal as Blein Vie Noa

Танд зул сарын баярын болон шинэ жилийн мэндийг хүргэе

Kirismas wacan & Iyo sanad cusub oo fiican

كریسمس مبارک

Buon Natale e felice anno nuovo

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

“Definition of the week: TV set—the box in which they buried Morecambe and Wise.”

22^nd December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

The week of Christmas began with classes 802 and 804. Class 804 were wonderful as always and yet more Cadbury’s Heroes were handed out as a tiny gift. The four tubs are came to an end that afternoon. Classes 803 and 801 will completed the afternoon and there should have been just about be enough chocolates left to treat the wee devils individually but we fell one shy – so I improvised an awarded a star student something better, a larger chocolate bar.

Yesterday I was at my desk, with the best of the Morecambe and Wise Christmas Show playing in the background. Des O’Connor, was in this one particular sketch and the comedy duo of Eric Morecambe and Ernie Wise are in splendid form with a combination of satire, observational, ad lib humour, spontaneous variety and musical comedy second to none.

Ernie, “Where’s mine?

Eric, “Pardon?”

Ernie, “Where’s mine?”

Eric, “Just turned 50 and you’ve forgotten?”

Christmas for me should always feature Morecambe and Wise. From 1969 until 1980 (skipping 1974) the shows were always broadcast on Christmas Day – and I’m certain that every year since they have been repeated, losing so little affection and charm. Many years I would watch this on television with grandparents, with my immediate family, with friends and so on. I don’t need an excuse. Sitting watching Morecambe and Wise with your Mum, Dad, Nana, Grandfather or Gran is something everyone should experience – a feeling of total security and warmth. Some topical features and stars of the days featured may be out-dated but for me this only accentuates the value of comedy greatness living on. You recognise the news reporters, TV stars, actors and musicians as being huge commanders of the stage. Alongside Morecambe and Wise there is a great respect of their guests and this is infectious. It beats watching naff commercials featuring stars of the day selling you any old tat.

Sunday night Murray’s F.C. lost 5-3 in a close game, after going in at the break with no goals for either side. With a fantastic beef sirloin streaks, rice, egg and mushroom meal [niúnǎnFàn 牛腩饭] in my belly from lunchtime, the cycle ride to Binjiang (to play) was great. Afterwards, after 2 hours of football [we stopped for only ten minutes at half time], the ride back was strenuous and almost backbreaking. Murray’s Irish Bar held a fantastic barbecue for the football team on Saturday night, with copious amount of slaughtered beef and lamb on the menu. A great pre-Christmas get together. Too many Strand Ales were drank amongst shots after shots. Whilst writing an article called Cases Against Having An Ayi yesterday I was a tad head weary and worn. Want to know the content of the Ayi debate? It’ll be published in January. In the meantime HubHao have listed my latest ventures in writing online. There’s a Badass of Chinese History in Yue Fei. Eddy’s article on ten pin bowling gives me a mention after we had a game across the road from my apartments in Houjie’s Wanda Plaza. I argue against learning Chinese (even though I find learning Chinese amazing). Here’s my archive of articles to have a gander at in your free time. They have a backlog of pieces sat in waiting to be published. Echo’s article on a street devout to décor is worthy of a read, as is the Ecologist’s view on hanging gardens.

Due to last night being busy with school work I opted for the same beef brisket, rice, egg and mushroom meal [niúnǎnFàn 牛腩饭] alongside some crispy fried wonton [zháyúntūn 炸云吞]. And today I am battling stage 2 Man Flu, headaches, aching joints, dizziness, fatigue and a sore throat.

In national news here, people are still being searched for at the tragic landslide, at the city of Shenzhen, just south of me. The aerial footage would look worse if it wasn’t for the smog. The scale of the disaster and nature’s power is overwhelming. I hope few people fell victim to the landslide.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Made From Manchester

22^nd December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

I wasn’t going to write anything more. I was going to sit back, read the Manchester Evening News and other online media sources before waking up properly with some class lesson reviews. Flicking through the links of the M.E.N. online, I came across an article about Callum Ballantine passing away. Through charity work and his (and assistance from his best friend Samir Kamani) fashion line “Made in Manchester” has spread love about our city and given the Teenage Cancer Trust, and in turn the valuable support. The shirts sell at £10 each and make an ideal Crimbo present for those struggling for ideas. There are many popular music options, red and blue too – as well as things inspired by Manchester’s roots.

#RIPCallumBallantine #MadefromManchester. #WeWearPink #OneofOurOwn

http://www.madefrommanchester.com/

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Merry Christmas. 圣诞快乐 (Shèngdàn kuàilè)

25^th December 2015

Merry Christmas.

圣诞快乐

(Shèngdàn kuàilè)

Watch a video here

Sunshine on Christmas Eve!

26^th December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Christmas Eve spent in the U.K. was often just an average day. Maybe I’d be working, maybe there’d be some last minute shopping, and often there’d be some form of queues – but it shopping or traffic. Or there’d be travelling, with Chris Rea playing a festive ditty. As a youngster there’d be excitement, eagerly anticipating Lego, or dreaming of Ghostbusters, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or many other latest must-have action figures. There would be the added bonus of divorced parents, meaning two possible Christmas meals or at worst, staggered gifts to be received and chances to see multiple Christmas trees and décor across the two split extended families’ relatives. There are many fond memories out there to hide away the three Christmases spent vomiting from that pesky winter noro-virus. Once I keeled over midway between my Dad’s and Mum’s. Christmas lunch was returned to Earth.

In 2015, I had one of the merriest Christmas Eve days of my life. I don’t often use the word jolliest as it doesn’t strike me as a very jovial or jocund words. Yesterday was fluently buoyant – a crest of a wave of joy. The day started at the beginning, as it often does. Sliding along the highly humid corridors to the lift, I swiped “MCFC, okay” onto the damp wall tiles. The lift bell pinged to mark its arrival. In I went and down it went. I skipped out the door, excited by the sunshine in the sky.

On entering the gates of school, clouds starting to sweep over and a little mist rolled around the school buildings. Hints of spitting rain followed. Miss Jiang stood anxiously by the middle section of the school complex. Her apparent unease at the heavens unfolding. I calmly looked up and told her, “it’ll pass.” Miss Jiang said they would delay the start until by fifteen minutes. As I went to Albin and Anna’s office, I could see from the window that stage readying was under way. Three giant boards covered in Christmas wrap sat proudly centre stage. Speakers and wiring soon followed.

To quote Santa Claus – The Movie “the light of happiness in a friend’s eye” was seen many a time over the last few days. The show with Asger, Albin, Anna and Tess went smoothly, we did our rendition of Jingle Bells, dived off stage, dished out candies and swapped glad tidings with grade 5/6 and everyone else that stopped me. Many a happy photograph was taken. After which I ran home, showered and headed back for jolly Christmas lessons with 601 class and 602 class. Lunch followed and I grabbed three gingerbread house sets for the teachers to share.

For the afternoon, the former leader of the English teachers at Dao Ming Foreign Language School came by our school. Miss Jiang had pre-agreed for me to hop to Bright’s new school. So, Bright, his driver and I made the short journey to Nancheng. Bright now works at the catchilly titled and off the tongue东莞市南城阳光第七小学. The school’s title in English would be something like Dongguan City 17th Sunshine Primary School. That’s right, there are 16 others and one more is opening soon this year. Dongguan (东莞) Shi (市Market or City) Nánchéng (南城south town) Qu YángGuāng (阳光sunshine) diqi (第七17th) Xiǎo Xué (小学primary school) is a mouthful coming from Chapel Street Primary School, a school in Manchester not using the locality of Levenshulme or city name in the moniker. In some ways it isn’t too dissimilar to Man City’s new crest dropping the M.C.F.C. and flipping to just using Manchester City without identifying it as a football club. Anyway, I digress… At the school, Bright and I created a short play (10 minutes) long about a 100-year old Santa Claus coming from Manchester to China to deliver gifts to the school students. It ended in We Wish You A Merry Christmas and a Challenge Anneka (where is she now?) style run from classroom to classroom amongst the 840-student filled school. Some sweat later, over a couple of teas, Bright and I caught up. I do hope one day he gets accepted to be a professor at university. He’s taking a break from it now. Third time lucky. As a thank you the school gifted me a paper cutting (chuāng huā 窗花 – “window flower” the school is famous nationally for this; they usually decorate windows). They are usually reserved for foreign visitors and government officials. Chang’e (嫦娥) – a moon goddess – is depicted on my cutting. So, armed with that I returned to LiaoXia, then joined my fellow English teachers, domestic and foreign for food and games at Wanda Plaza. Christmas Eve was great fun.

Oh and in the evening it rained. I don’t think the day actually saw any real weather sunshine, but at 24°C it was warm!

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

A very Mandarin Christmas

27^th December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Firstly, I hope you all had a very joyous and Merry Christmas.

Christmas Day should be an exciting day. It should be filled with family, close friends, fun and happiness. My Christmas Day was much more placid than previous years. I’d already reserved myself to thinking it’d be bobbins. My Christmas dinner consisted of beef and noodles with some fruit, before watching Mr Walrus at Brown Sugar Jar. I’d been asked to write an article about the gig already and decided I’d go at the very last minute. HubHao shall have the article sooner or later. Undoubtedly a link shall follow in due course. The way Christmas Day panned out, I wouldn’t change for the world. As the last of my man flu dissipated, I felt very relaxed indeed. A day without presents and gifts being received wasn’t all bad. I’ve grown out of that and prefer to give gifts so much more. Next Christmas will be spent with family and not in China!

This Christmas, I gave myself a challenge. I signed up to something tough. I completed enrolment to study and complete the HSK (Xīn Hànyǔ Shuǐpíng Kǎoshì 新汉语水平考试). This is a Chinese Proficiency Test. This is administered by the Hanban (汉办) – an abbreviation for the Chinese National Office for Teaching Chinese as a Foreign Language (NOTCFL). I’ve registered for Hanban already. I’ll aim for the HSK 1 & HSK 2 as both don’t require writing ability. It could be a foundation to build upon. With respects to purely an oral test, I could aim to complete HSKK 1-6 levels ( 汉语水平口语考). My first test (HSK一级) and second test (HSK二级 ) will be on 7/5/2016 and 12/6/2016 respectfully at东莞南方科技专修学院（网考）. The main oral Mandarin test is at孔子学院远程教育中心网考（广州）on 21/5/16. Until then I need to learn and besides online materials like Chinesepod.com, online dictionaries, personal tutoring (e.g. http://www.newconceptmandarin.com), pronounciation tools, cultural websites like ChineseWhisper.com and of course friends here. Learning Chinese is not easy but I’m determined to feed off a mental challenge in Spring. Time to immerse…

I need to download Radio Chinese Plus onto my phone; talk and sing to myself in Chinese (singing Little Apple/Teresa Teng/Wang Fei/Zhou Huajian); listen to those around me more; pay more attention to signage and announcements; watch some popular Chinese videos online; maybe pay more attention to the likes of Jackie Chan (Chéng Lóng/成龙) or another famous star; watch some Chinese tele and movies (Shower 洗澡, A World Without Thieves 天下无贼, Eat Drink, Man Woman 饮食男女, and To Live 活着. Good Chinese TV series include Home With Kids 家有儿女，Journey To The West 西游记 and Fen Dou 奋斗.).

Yesterday, a mostly lazy day, involved the watching of many movies including A Very Murray Christmas. In the evening I ate a turkey sandwich at Irene’s Bar whilst watching Manchester City win 4-1 and unveil our new old modern classic crest. I am just tucking myself in bed and judging by the news online the U.K. is far too wet. Keep safe everybody! And, whilst the U.K. floods, let’s look at cheery news: A bicycle in a tree?

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Up in smoke

28^th December 2015

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

School may have an idea now to who my replacement will be. A piece of woof justice, if ever there was one. As I typed that I just sneezed so powerfully, I could have ripped my diaphragm and groin muscles. That bloomin’ ‘urt. The projectiles dispersed thankfully into a tissue and not through my laptop’s screen. I had a tissue handy because I’m at the exit stage of Man Flu. Tissues are everywhere, on almost every student’s desk. There are many colds, viruses, man flu cases etc flying around. Handerkerchiefs? Forget that. Not here. Not a chance. When someone sneezes, it is as if Mount Etna herself has spewed volcanic matter over the immediate sky. Any signs of sneezing should be given a wide pathway around the sneezer. Otherwise, expect decoration of an unwelcome variety.

All this being said, we can’t keep throwing antibiotics around like toys, the superbugs are coming… as discovered in China recently. Everytime I hear of a teacher with a cold, they soon seem to share photographs of intravenous drip-administered fluids and antibiotics on their WeChat moments (like a Facebook wall). We can’t go on this way. We need to build our own resistance and stop depending on drugs [they should be a last resort/used for the more vulnerable].

Other things that disgust me are smoking. Almost every man smokes here in China. Every boy seems to light up as they show they are now a man. Very few women smoke, although you do see a few in western bars joining the filthy habit. Each province in China has its own brand of tobacco. I’m told there are around 900 brands nationally. Some have names like 红双喜(Hóngshuāngxǐ or Red Double Happiness), 中华(Zhōnghuá/National smoke – the slogan is Love our Chungwa, or love our China – and 毛泽东Máo Zédōng smoked them, so they are immensely popular!), then there is 红塔山 (Hóngtǎshān/Red Pagoda Hill), brands named after Communist party buildings, Pandas, Pride, good cats, and YuXi has a theme park named after it! It doesn’t matter what their names or packagaing is, on the mainland they all belong to China National Tobacco Corporation (中国国家烟草公司 Zhōngguó yāncǎo zǒng gōngsī).

I can’t see many people giving up smoking. Every shop has at least 25 different brands. Each street and almost all signage often has a brand advertising freely. Non-smoking bars and restaurants often have signage saying not to do so, next to an ashtray. The extremely lax enforcement of smoking laws here, taxi drivers sparking up enroute, school bus drivers chugging away in full view of students, teachers bunking off to toilets, P.E. teachers unreservedly lighting up in their ash-filled offices… the list goes on and on. I often see Chinese footballers smoking as they play. They have their hands free. Why not? I’ve seen basketball games pause every five minutes for a team talk/filthy fag break.

Cigarette packages globally often contain warning signs and symbols. Some are devoid of anything other than the bare minimum. In China, expect artwork, lavish symbols and bold bright colouring. China has major health problems in most areas. Smoking is one of them. It won’t disappear any time soon. At least four or five teachers I know that arrived started smoking again here. In fact some of the guys at football only smoke here because it is so cheap. 2.5RMB (or 25 pence) a packet is common, with few being much more than this. Unless, you want luxury or foreign brands illegally imported.

Who gets rich from the habit? The government (7% of GDP comes from tobacco – but then someone may have to foot the health bill eventually), the tobacconists, the shops… Sung et al. estimated the economic costs of smoking in China in 2000 at US$5.0 billion (based on the exchange rate of 8.27RMB to US$1), of which US$1.7 billion were direct healthcare costs of smoking and $3.3 billion were indirect morbidity and mortality costs. There is a relatively large amount of money to be made and lost in relation to the habit of chuffing one and other’s lives away. That said, with air pollution [it is estimated to kill 4000 people a day here] being so bad in places, does it matter? Sadly, 33% of young smokers are likely to meet an end prematurely – with disability numbers also expected to shoot upwards. Whilst Chinese women (less than 1% of the population are believed to be smokers) have deceptively young looking skin, often many many have deceivingly old looking skin. Although with the inventor of the e-Cig being a dual user of traditional and modern methods, what chance does anyone have of stubbing out this bad habit?

Smoking is a social custom in China. I’ve been shunned for not accepting cigarettes. It is a sign of respect and friendliness, but one refusal can end social interactions. Here news reports have advised smoking as being good for you. In 2009, the Chinese Ministry of Health issued a decision to totally ban smoking in all health administration offices and medical facilities by the year 2011. No such enforcement is ever evident. Concerns about how China is perceived by way of image may one day win over tough enforcement and end promotion of tobacco but until then, good luck in the smoke filled alleys, restaurants, taxis, bars and steeets here. Whilst secondhand smoke is a major health concern, ability to enforce has not been brought about. Some even claim it cures mouth ulcers, relieves schizophrenia and so on. I guess if you have asthma then a dose of Ebola might cure you.

In 2011, 2011, State Administration of Radio, Film and Television, proclaimed that it will forbid “inappropriate smoking scenes” in movies and TV shows. Few shows feature smoking. Old movies, the kind watched by many, always seem to show long smoking action shots. This bad habit won’t disappear like smoke in the wind.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

November 2015’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

步步高昇 (bù bù gāoshēng): Onwards and upwards

9^th November 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

One of my students from V.I.P. class in grade 5 has made the city-wide final of the English Speaking Competition. Daniel will appear in the final ten on November the 15^th at a hotel ballroom in front of hundreds of onlookers and many judges. He had previously won the Houjie final and a qualifying round. We tried to make a simple speech from my initial draft below about Dongguan Cuture.

Dongguan blends and mixes the many cultures and people of China. All walks of life are thrown together into a wonderful tapestry of sports, music, morals, laws, customs and arts.People of various nationalities come from Australasia, Africa, the Americas, Europe and Asia to form a bright and vibrant city. The people here learn from one another and further their knowledge by continually connecting together as one through celebration, ristuals and patterns of consumption. The ways of life within Dongguan are simple yet complex. Beliefs, values and symbols are respected from generation to generation as the city evolves. Dongguan is built around many old villages, rivers and surrounding hills. The landscape has transformed from farming to city lifestyles in a short space of time. It is connected to the world and known for manufacturing. The city is famous for dragon boat racing, lychee and lotus festivals amongst other things. A blend of international and national influence is unique to this multicultural city.

Obviously the above is a tad difficult for even a naturalised English speaker or 11 year’s of age, let alone Daniel with his highly advanced second language skills. So, Cherry (his class tutor) and I settled on the below speech (小学组晁旭东文化东莞):

“Hello, I am a robot. I was made in Dongguan. Now I want to tell you something about this city. Let’s start with the fact that there are many libraries here. Dongguan Library is made up of 36 branches of libraries that extend to every corner of the city. People can borrow books from libraries at any time of day. They may even enjoy digital reading at home.

Secondly, the city is famous for dragon boat racing, lion dancing and Cantonese opera. In Dongguan, many students take English and cucurbit flute lessons. I can feel their happiness from those smiling faces. I am lucky, because I have the chance to stand on this stage and show you the diverse culture of Dongguan. Dear friends, in this unique and multicultural city, let’s learn and grow up together day by day! Thank you all!”

I really hope he does well. He deserves to succeed. I have helped a little but he has done all the hard work. He has been very patient and one thing we often talk about is that his bike is too small. If he wins it, he may get a voucher for a shop – and that’ll give him and his family the chance to buy him a new bike.

After my recent repairs to my bicycle and a puncture (yet again), I know what it is like to want to ride, but have limitations on being in the saddle. On the subject of cycling, Hong Kong Velodrome at Tseung Kwan O, will host the third round of the 2015–16 UCI Track Cycling World Cup on January 16-17, 2016. Tickets have been promptly purchased. The other rounds are in New Zealand (at Cambridge) and Colombia. Last weekend it kicked off at Cali’s Velódromo Alcides Nieto Patiño. Cyclists such as Anna Meares, Laura Trott, Andrew Tennant [a Team Wiggins road rider], Katie Archibald, Elinor Barker, Ciara Horne, and Joanna Rowsell will mix it with more local-to-me regional cyclists (Hong Kong’s Chueng King Lok, Lee Wai Sze李慧詩 who carried H.K.’s flag at the London 2012 Olympics before going on to defeat Victoria Pendleton [now a horse riding jockey] in the semi-finals of a sprint event; China’s Zhong Tianshi, Guo Shuang 郭爽, and Gong Jinjie 宫金杰). Looking at the local calendar of cycling events Japan [Izu, Shizuoka prefecture] is hosting some major events in Jnauary/February… tempting… it being an Olympic year in 2016, that could mean some big names stepping up…

Since I last wrote, I have been very busy. Almost non-stop, with Halloween events, football (Murray’s FC has made a slight split to Murray’s FC Maine Road and Murray’s FC Aberystwyth in recent weeks), writing a novel and so on… The local internet at school and in the apartment has been abysmal. It has ruined my enjoyment of BBC Six music far too often! The VPN (PandaPow) has been off more than on and barely gives speeds capable of viewing motion video. Even images take aeons to load up! As epochs of time slip away, I don’t feel the hunger to read news articles, let alone type anything onto a blog. This is a shame because many interesting experiences, events and happenings fall by the wayside.

Friday, the 6^th of October, night marked the opening of 万达集团Wanda Group (Wàndá Jítuán)) Plaza in 厚街HòuJīe. The large shopping centre (mall) surrounds a lake (complete with light show), traditional Chinese moon bridge, and mega-living area. The company that runs and owns the plaza, also has a 20% share of La Liga side Atlético Madrid, which is incidentally the only football shirt I spotted being worn by a shopper at last night’s opening evening. The shopping centre (mall, if you must) is massive, it is on a par with Manchester’s Arndale and even has food court areas, restaurants, a skittles alley [one of only two in our city], mini-KTV booths, a giant cinema (Wanda Cinemas), and an arcade. A few games of air hockey were had before evacuating to the safety of the apartment. It was far too busy.

On Saturday morning, I went to see Everest at the Wanda IMAX movie theatre (cinema, really) and thoroughly enjoy it. It is odd how things occur in threes. One of my dreams is to see (but not climb) Everest. Only last week a friend and teacher, Dannie, told me how she stayed in Nepal for a month and how comparatively cheap it is to live there, and we punctually discussed the need for education following a recent earthquake in the region. Then, last night my friend Javier at Murray’s F.C. mentioned how he is going to Nepal from the 22^nd of January to 20^th of February. He then invited me to tag along, assuming I can get the necessary permits and equipment. The game of football finished 9-1 to Murray’s FC and I added a groin injury to my swollen right thumb (kicked in the previous weekend); suspected muscle/inguinal/or an unlikely femoral hernia (to which I am trying to recover slowly and surely; there is an obvious swollen bump, it comes and goes – but I had a hernia operation as a kid, and I’m sure it is just the same area; there are no other symptoms other than a dull ache); bruised big toe on the left (shedding 50% of the toenail); swollen nose, strained calf, jolted knee and shoulder bruising (from the recent run-in with two rickshaws on my bike). A game tomorrow night is too soon for me, so I’ll manage the squad and try to defeat Cavera FC (a Brazilian outfit) in the 2015 Dongguan Foreigners’ League. We lost 5-0 to another Brazilian team last week and lacked a goalkeeper, depth or a centreforward to handle the fixture. For most it was their first game together. Tahir (U.K.), Chris Farman (Hartlepool, U.K.), Saad (India), Oggy Tadic (Serbia), Alex Ortiz (Spain), Tim Mileson (Leeds, U.K.), John Burns (Nottingham, U.K.), Ben Collins (Reading, U.K.), Weng (Dongguan, China), and Javier Felones (Spain) look like they can be a good team for me to learn from and play with. With extra depth to enter the fray Juan Diego Mejia (Colombia), Ben Cherry (Melbourne, Australia), Alberto (Italy) and possibly Lai (a Chinese goalkeeper) will provide options to build on. The Murray’s FC squad has provided Murray’s FC (Aberystwyth) with a stronger pool of players, capable of winning this tournament. Our second string can challenge for the top spot but need maxium victories from the three remaining fixtures. Anything is possible. Onwards and upwards… 步步高昇 (bù bù gāoshēng)

Yesterday morning, long before the invite to Nepal, I’d purchased not one but three pairs of insulated, waterproof walking boots. One pair cost me 150RMB (£15) and soon included not one, but two extra dusty superfluous pairs. The wife of the shopkeeper insisted because they hadn’t sold them in four years. They have a student at school too. Their shop is an outlet for numerous mid to high end outdoor-wear suppliers, in this case for Sorel boots. These boots (Men’s SOREL™ Paxson Tall Waterproof Boot: “This new addition to the Paxson line combines rugged stitching with supple, nubuck leather and nylon upper and seam-sealed construction to create a boot that’s warm, breathable and fully waterproof.”) retail for £140.00 in the U.K. They’re a Swiss design, made in China, which copies pretty much the norm for high end products. Now, I just need to wear them in… should I choose the pair of size 50.5 or the two pairs of size 48.5 first?!

And now (or then if you read later than now), I sit at school, forty minutes from my first class of the day, class 802… and then 804… lunch… class 803… home and dry with class 801. And relax. Tomorrow, I have classes 605-608. Wednesday’s classes are cancelled due to exams. Thursday we have a primary school trip to Shenzhen’s Happy Valley (欢乐谷Huānlè Gŭ) before no classes on Friday (in a way) because middle school have their school trip that day. I hope the water park is open at Happy Valley! On Friday, I teach class 601 only – the subject shall be penpals. This is an open lesson class for parents and other teachers to attend. More details to follow. I intend to use the free time to learn some Chinese this week.

Here’s an interesting read on how Dr Watson of Sherlock Holmes became known as Peanut in China. I found this whilst looking for TV shows to help me improve of further learn Mandarin. Ten shows I should watch are as follows:

武媚娘传奇 The Empress of China [Youku: http://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XODcxOTMzNDc2.html
Hunan TV: http://www.hunantv.com/v/2/103460/index.html ]

2.步步惊心 Scarlet Heart [Youku: http://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XMzAyNDYzNjUy.html ]

iPartment 爱情公寓 [Season 4 YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=goQzSuBwBa4 (Eng subtitles)
IQIYI: http://www.iqiyi.com/v_19rrgzy5ls.html?src=soku ]
The lady and the liar 千金女贼 [Viki: http://www.viki.com/tv/22845c-the-lady-the-liar ]
我是歌手 I am a Singer [Hunan TV: http://www.hunantv.com/v/1/103887/index.html# ]
最强大脑 The Brain [Youku: http://www.youku.com/show_page/id_za4969972631f11e4abda.html ]
奔跑吧兄弟 Hurry Up, Brother [IQIYI: http://www.iqiyi.com/a_19rrhc0alp.html?vfm=2008_aldbd ]
何以笙箫默 Silent Separation (My Sunshine) [IQIYI: http://www.iqiyi.com/a_19rrhc3wk1.html ]
锦绣缘华丽冒险 Cruel Romance [Sohu: http://tv.sohu.com/s2014/jxyhlmx/ ]
神雕侠侣 The Condor Heroes [QQ: http://v.qq.com/p/tv/zt/xsdxl/index.html /YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5Fw9LZG0ps (Eng subtitles)]

I’ll write again soon…

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Wàn shì kāi tóu nán (万事开头难): “All things are difficult before they are easy”.

13^th November 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Open lesson completed. The initial part of the lesson with class 604 was fairly muted. Students clearly had the sights of their parents in their worried collective minds. After heating up the class by a technique I like to call “deicing a classroom by picking on the louder students.” A small student, round-faced and with ears reminiscent of the Football Association Cup called James, cheeky and a self-confessed “I am a troublemaker” happened to make a few comments that had both students and parents giggling in delight. He is witty. A few other students discerned the response and instantly upped the ante. Game on. And it was some game, lasting 40 minutes with great input overall. I fought the pokerfaces of the parents – and trust that victory was gained. The first class of the day, 08:15, the day after a cany-fueled school trip to Shenzhen’s Happy Valley (欢乐谷 – Huānlè Gŭ). The park has nine themed areas, of which, 8 were open yesterday (Spanish Square, Cartoon City, Mt. Adventure, Gold Mine Town, Shangri-La Woods, Sunshine Beach, Typhoon Bay, and Happy Times. The Playa Maya Water Park was closed. Some rides remained closed for repairs like the long winding Bullet Coaster. Failure is mother of success (失败是成功之母 / Shībài shì chénggōng zhī mǔ). I guess with summer season behind, and autumn flowing close to the short winter, now is the time to repair things. Most rides have an upper height limit of 1.9m. It was embarrassing being turned away from one ride infront of 200 queuing onlookers, and 40 or so ride riders. I did score a personal victory by entering one ride not fit for giants but the spinning ride could easily be marketed with, “Dare you ride the anti-climax?” Another Typhoon Bay twister ride should have had a height restriction. I have brusing on both shoulders from the safety harness that lowers down onto you. The log flume seats over twenty people per boat and is like riding a canal barge into the sea, off a waterfall before being sprayed by a firefighter’s hose. Jolly good fun. There was a rollercoaster I was allowed on, similar to Alton Tower’s Nemesis ride, where your legs dangle, it flips you upside down and twists, turns, swerves to heart’s content for a minute and a half. It was bloomin’ good. The restaurants on site were below average but opting for ice-cream proved fruitful. Green tea and blueberry ice-creams on a delicious wafer base. Throughout the theme park Halloween displays, shows and sculptures seemed to be almost everywhere. Some far more gruesome than I have ever seen. Overall the park is well landscaped, has variety, the usual stalls and colourful shows. It didn’t appear to have any zoo animals or attractions that stank of animal cruelty. It seemed very well ran and my school students enjoyed the thrills even if the teachers reacted as, “It is so boring.” Maybe to raise their game, the theme park needs to do some market research and add proper thrills throughout the park, after clearly catering for younger riders. I think if you’re used to western (U.K. and U.S.A. etc) style theme parks, you’ll be disappointed but if it is for the kids, this is a good place. Anna and Albin joined me with Helen, Nicole and other teachers throughout the day. Today, from our foreign language team Asger and Tess are at the theme park. Sadly, it is raining. That fine rain, that gets you soaked through! I hope they have fun!

Following yesterday’s excursion I cycled to DongCheng’s Best football field (the rooftop of a local market, 蒗基湖综合市场), trained for nearly two hours with Murray’s FC before riding back and going to bed far too late. 44km of riding, for the third time this week… this weekend our team travels to Zhuhai for a tournament.

Wàn shì kāi tóu nán (万事开头难): “All things are difficult before they are easy”. Chinese proverbs feature across the bredth and width of world cultures. Many have translated well and often form everyday conversations. Hǎo jiǔ bú jiàn (好久不见) is one such phrase, or “long time no see!” Many have been mutated by time but stem from eastern origins, such as wúfēng bù qǐ làng (无风不起浪) – “There’s no waves without wind; there’s no smoke without fire.”

Some phrases are deep but appear comedic, like ài wū jí wū (爱屋及乌) – “Love me, love my dog.” Some maxims look to taunt… jǐ jiā huān xǐ jǐ jiā chóu (几家欢喜几家愁) – “Some are happy, some have worries. Or one man’s disaster is another man’s delight.”

There are illustrative and informative phrases such as shū shì suí shí xié dài de huā yuan (书是随时携带的花园) – “A book is like a garden carried in the pocket.” And of course proverbs to suit myself, huó dào lǎo, xué dào lǎo (活到老，学到老) – “A man is never too old to learn.” Some apply to a bad lesson at school like bú huì chēng chuán guài hé wān (不会撑船怪河弯) – “a bad workman always blames his tools.” That’s why today’s open class could have been better.

One great phrase to remember is rén wú qiān rì hǎo, huā wú bǎi rì hóng (人无千日好，花无百日红) – “There is no person that has 1000 good days in a row, and no flower that stays red for 100 days.”). In the west it is better heard as, “All good things come to an end.”

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

〇〇七 (零零柒) líng líng qī [007]

13^th November 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

You Only Live Twice shown scenes of James Bond in Hong Kong; Tomorrow Never Dies featured a stealth ship in the South China Sea; The Man With the Golden Gun had a finale with Scaramanga on an island off the coast of China; Die Another Day pits the character swimming to the mainland whilst recent movie Skyfall (whilst heavily censored for the Chinese audiences) gives 007 a trip to Shanghai and Macau. 〇〇七 (零零柒) líng líng qī has been released today (under the name Spectre globally but here it is called 幽灵党- yōulíng dǎng [meaning ghost or spirit party, although 党 dǎng can mean political party too] in China) and audiences here are expected to see an uncensored 2.5 hours of Bond. The local cinemas pretty much have blanket coverage in their IMAX (the local Wanda cinema东莞厚街万达影城is pretty much sold out) screens, 3D screens and VIP suites for this movie. Not since Jurassic World has such clamour been seen in China for an English language movie. Fast and the Furious 7, Transformers: Age of Extinction and other blockbuster records are expected to fall. This last year has seen an explosion in exposure to western movies. Special Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion is a little bit of a mouthful here in China and features too many controversial terms, often hidden from mass media. Tonight, the odds for Bond sleeping with pretty much every woman that appears on screen (he’d probably have a go at Judy Dench’s M’s corpse given enough screen time), saying something sexist, passing on his name immediately, cliché after cliché but like Ian Fleming’s novels they grab your attention and simply entertain. Don’t judge a book by said book’s cover and certainly don’t learn morals from within the subtext. Like Israel and the continued conflict with the Gaza Strip, James Bond is a relic of the outdated aftereffects of World War II, something that needs peace and prosperity.

Fleming as a master wordsmith had an idea (influenced by experience), it grew, it became a cultural icon and a franchise. Hats off to Blighty’s greatest cinematic export. For me the iconic sound scores and menacing villains (even if very black and white) make the movie. Either way…

〇〇七 (零零柒) líng líng qī will return…

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before

20^th November 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

After watching Spectre last week at the IMAX cinema, I can reflect and say it isn’t the best Bond movie but it is far from the worst Bond movie. The opening theme tune isn’t the best but the classic style is growing on me. Christoph Waltz was under-used and the backstory of Spectre filled in too hastily with a motive barely touching the surface. There is a convoluted and sketchy link to Bond’s past – one I hate and would no doubt cause concern to his creator Ian Fleming. That said the dialogue is raw and the opening scene is a rollercoaster ride with one of the longest single shot scenes in an action movie ever. Former wrestler Dave Bautista is menacing but lifeless. He never used his legendary Batista Bite / Beast Bite (Crossface/Scissored armbar combination) and in some ways met his end in the same means as Speilberg’s Jaws did. Obviously a nod to a larger than life giant adversary previously featured in Bond flicks. The movie ends oddly, for the first time with the lead villain being captured (a first in some senses, that one was captured before alleged execution in The Living Daylights; and Blofeld played hide and seek often earlier in the franchise).

The temperatures have been soaring lately, a staggering 33°C earlier this week. By the weekend rain is expected and it should dip to 27°C. The sunshine has been intense over the last week, superheating the top level classrooms and their flat rooftops. Humidity has dropped and every now and then a cool breeze sweeps by in the evening. Nights no longer require the air-conditioner. The teachers here, and my co-worker Joy have been quoted as saying, “Winter is not coming.” All rather anti-Game of Thrones.

Last weekend, I travelled to Zhūhǎi (珠海) with Murray’s FC for the 2^nd Guangdong Foreigners’ Football Tournament at the Zhuhai Stadium. The city at the heart of the Chinese Riviera has fresh air sweeping over from the South China Sea (南海 Nánhǎi), and the Pearl River (珠江; Zhūjiāng) joining the sea. Our tough group stage allowed us to progress with games against Barazucas FC (Shenzhen), Winners FC (Dongguan) and Soccerhub B (Zhuhai) to the quarter finals. Intern China (Zhuhai) [their website has many jobs] were defeated eventually giving us a tough semi-final where we bowed out… or so we thought… and then we faced a third-placed play-off against Soccerhub B, losing eventually, despite giving it our all. We scored only 5 goals, but conceded 11 in our 6 games. The winning team, Macau FC won the 1^st Guangdong Foreigners’ Football Tournament held in Dongguan in summer and swept al aside here too. In 2016, 港珠澳大橋will open. That’s the whopping 50km Hong Kong-Zhuhai-Macau Bridge! The longest part of the bridge itself will have 29.6 km (18.4 mi) span. There are many smaller sections and tunnels. The organisers of the Guangdong Foreigners’ Football Tournament are looking to create a pan-Pearl River Delta tournament to involve teams from Hong Kong, Guangdong, Macau and beyond. Technically speaking Chinese Super League team Shanghai Shenhua’s once merged rival team started life in Zhuhai…

Our digs, 7 days inn ( 7tiān Liánsuǒ Jiǔdiàn Jítuán/ 7天连锁酒店集团 ), located in 拱北; Gǒngběi, booked by Eddy sat at the location of Gǒngběi Kǒuàn (the port to Macau). I’m sure Eddy has the CEO Zhèng Nányàn on speed dial. Every time Murray’s FC travels, we stay at these, despite them costing more than most local hotels. The hotel was slap bang in the middle of an unhidden and totally shameless red-light district. Knocks on the hotel door during the night and offers of companionship were obviously directed at our entire football team as we returned in drips and drabs throughout the evening, night and morning. We’d had food (eventually) at The Factory (工厂酒吧 at 珠海市华发世纪城新世纪广场) and headed to the designated bar street area (酒吧街; Jiǔbājiē). 88, and 18 club…

At The Factory, the music got me straight away, I’d fainally found a place that played The Smiths in their collection. I was instantly warmed to the barrel-seated, spit and sawdust look. It stank of false factory features but gave a realistic chilled ambience in a heartbeat. The owner, a Belgian, spoke with me later on… and apologised about delays in food. There was around 8 football teams visiting… so demand was high. Nevertheless the food was quality and even my Italian friend was full of praise for the delicious pizzas. There was great service for drinks but orders for food were confused, and information crosswired. The pool table (billiards) and football table, amongst a plethora of board games made for a good touch. The beautifully fronted and diverse house band covered many artists, pleasingly Cherry Ghost had some airplay. Would I visit again? Next time I am there, yes. There is a large outdoor riverside area with decking to escape the inner sounds of live music. The toilets feature sliding doors and odd-shaped trough urinals. Overall The Factory is industrial, modern and welcoming, with just a touch of sport and hints at national flags etc. I like it.

On the return journey our driver passed along the coastal road with majestic views of the highly active (万山群岛Wànshānqúndǎo) Wanshan Ten Thousand Islands Archipelago. The view of one island Dawanshan Dao 大万山岛looks amazing, with a clearly visible temple. The minibus passed by the Fisher Girl Statue (viewable from 情侣路; Qínglǚlù/Lovers’ Road) slapped in the brown waters of Xianglu Bay, flanked by crowds of tourists taking a plethora of selfies. As her hands are held up to the sky, I can’t decide if the symbolism intended is one of welcoming or “not another selfie stick!” We’d previously passed a large concrete looking ship-shaped restaurant, that was frankly an eyesore. Deyuefang Seafood Restaurant (得月肪海鮮酒樓; Déyuèfáng Hǎixiān Jiǔlóu) is not on my to do list.

Zhūhǎi has some impressive buildings that are in their own league of world-class designs of architercture. There’s examples of biomimicry in the RNJM Zhuhai Observation Tower. The Zhuhai Opera House is simply a shell of pure grandeur. It matches natural shells with the futuristic vision of Star Wars. The completion date is due this year, so it should be open late next year. For a dramatic animation click here. OpenBuilding.com have some info too. It is definitely an amazing building. One place of interest passed on the road back was China’s first Japanese-styled open air hot spring, Imperial Yuwenquan Hot Springs, (In Doumen District, take bus 609), ☎ +86 756 5797128. I’ve clearly noted the details for a reason. That’d make a good place to go and relax.

At school this week, open lessons have continued across the grades, classes have been either testing or very-testing (the heat hasn’t helped) and overall school has been fun. Letters to penpals have been started with my grade 6 students and shall soon be posted to friends/relatives in the U.K. In the midweek, I played football again for Murray’s F.C. Our team had gone 3-1 to pull back to 8-3 before finishing at 8-5. Not a bad win, and a stern test for our squad against Dongguan Arsenal Reds F.C. This weekend we have a game in Houjie against a team we have played back in June. It promises to be a good match.

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

The Houjie Percussion Ensemble

23^rd November 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

My chest tightened, excitement swept over my nerve endings. A cool enthusiasm took hold of me. I was eager to run outside. My general demeanor changed at just one sound. I was animated and motivated to go outside. Where others are agitated and indifferent, I bounce forward like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh. I am a pluviophile. I love the rain. As it lashed down for the first time in many weeks, perhaps months, I walked outside with just a rounded hat for protection. I felt the cooler air and damp across my legs, clad in only shorts. A football shirt and socks would not defend me against the elements. I sought no guard. Shelter was far from my mind. I miss good rain showers. Saturday’s short storm of an hour or so brought with it cooler fresh air, sadly soon replaced by sticky humid vacuumous air.

In the afternoon, Eddy of HubHao magazine and Murray’s FC joined me to go shoe shopping. Exccept we weren’t shoe shopping. Frank, a photographer of Australian-Cantonese ancestry, joined us too. We pretended to shop and gained further information about a Houjie shoe-shopping area for a magazine. After which we went to play ten-pin bowling at Wanda Plaza. It cost under 37.5RMB [25 arcade coins, at 1.5RMB per coin] for two of us to play one game. That’s 18.75RMB each. Bargain. That said the bowling alley is stumpy. The lanes are short, which I get… but they’re also narrow. Eddy scored 134 to my 97. I could not quite titrate how to bowl in such tight confines. Plus, a lack of bowling shoes made for a slippery unbalanced pitch or two. Speaking of pitches, later that day Murray’s FC played BoYi FC (Houjie) at FengTai Guan Shan Bi Shui (丰泰观山碧水) – there are fantastic rainforest showers on site. Max scored two, creating one. Eddy bagged a brace, also creating one. Dalatin “Barry” assisted one goal for Alain Zurcher. Both Alex and Sidhant Sharma set a goal up too. The home team’s goalkeeper escaped with a few hand ball shouts and some dubious overhead kicking. Thankfully nobody was injured from those wayward kicks of his. Kungfu should have been his game. Following the game a meal was had at Munchalot’s after using the number 12 bus, which zigzags back to Houjie sluggishly. A combination of Indian and Mexican food was consumed alongside some ales before heading to Irene’s Bar for one drink… and then sleepily and sorely (the groin injury I have, seems to have returned) to bed – for well-earned rest.

Sunday afternoon, followed on from a sleepy lazy morning. The p.m. was spent with Mr Hyper Hu (a student’s parent), his friends, some Sichuanese cuisine, báijiǔ (a vile rice wine/paint stripper) and some beers. The evening was sleepy and very little happened other than some tentative attempts at lesson creation. A week has passed since Daniel (a grade 5 student) came 9^th in Dongguan’s Oral English competition. The school celebrated their highest ever finish. Daniel had ranked number one in Houjie’s recent final, with Apple in grade 6 coming 2^nd overall. There has also been fire safety tests, drills and classes in recent weeks. Other students have been involved in local sports days. Our attention is fast turning to the winter art festival and Christmas. Soon after that the Spring Festival and my first semester end date – which I was told is January the 15^th by the school, yet my company advise Thurday the 31^st of December is the likely limit. That makes more sense as the previous three semesters have only been 18 weeks long. Sadly that is one week too late to fly back to the U.K. These 36/52 weeks a year of working in the past two years are actually proving costly. I’m keen to fill in at least half of the time off in Spring to sustain some funds. The cost of living here, etc is not so bad but factoring in repayment to the Student Loan Company, the cost of a long 8 weeked summer holiday and flights etc, I’m not making any money… something I am not interested in but yet require to live.

Monday mornings aren’t always great for everyone, teachers and students alike seem to moan about manic Mondays and miserable mornings. If Friday and Saturday are the party, Monday is the day left to tidy up after the mess. I actually like Mondays, for me they have as much significance as every other day of the week. You can begin afresh in any moment, not one that society deems the beginning.

Today’s classes in grade 8 have been mostly about Manchester and student’s hometowns. What are the people like? How long does it take you go to go to your hometown? Some students gave their answers ranging from 4 hours by car to 20 hours by train and even as much as several days by car. China is stupendously gargantuan. I simply say if you drive 2 hours west of Manchester, you end up in the sea, and not far from swimming if you drive equally as long to the east. I tell the students that many people can run from the northern tip of the U.K. to the southernmost and distally most points often, and it takes a few days. A long train journey in the U.K. shouldn’t take more than 6 hours, but that is because British trains are comparatively slow. In the minutes prior to class Adele’s 25 album [in massive contrast to Nightshade‘s gig last Friday night at the new Brown Sugar Jar venue – see one of their videos here] has had the odd airing much to the enjoyment of the many listening ears. Inbetween classes I’ve whacked on Thomas Newman’s Spectre soundtrack. Several tracks feature the Tambuco Percussion Ensemble fashioning a comforting buoyant ambience in the old headphones.

News has circulated that on Thursday a professor from some university nearby shall observe my period 3 class, class 601. Tess, Asger, Albin, and Anna also have class observations throughout the week. There is no mention of last year’s thanksgiving events being repeated [see previous blog: All that and Play-Doh.].

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Why are you thankful?

26^th November 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Wèishénme nǐ xīn cún gǎnjī? 为什么你心存感激 (why are you thankful?)

I am thankful for my past (I wouldn’t change the parts I have played in it, not even the bad times).

Yesterday, middle school held a ceremony for Thanksgiving Day (which is actually today). I was invited, alongside every teacher in our section of the school to attend. Here we were praised, marched onto the running track and given a gift of flowers. The students sang a song and did many actions to another song. It was most touching. Like many western culture occasions, Thanksgiving seems to have been emulated here in China. Last year my foreign teacher colleagues and I were invited to a primary school meal and had to attend local school events. This year my colleagues are teaching about the event in classes. I’m avoiding it, partially because I’d already planned my classes and somewhat due to my lack of understanding of the occasion. It features turkey, a street parade and everything jolly about family instances that I miss, but I won’t be adding more to my cluttered clash of chosen cultures captured on my calendar. China may have copied valentine’s day, Halloween, etc but it doesn’t mean I have to. No thank you. The less religious events, the less commercial clutter the better. But, for students, it is important they have an understanding of the world around them. Everything is possible and with freedom to choose, everything should be open to the younger and new generations. Turkeys are seldom found as menu items here. If we in the west have to suffer turkey-themed meals for many days after Christmas and Thanksgiving, I’m sure the Chinese can blend some amazing leftover meals. Look for the positives in any clash, even if it is a different Turkey being regarded by the world.

Last night, I concentrated on questions in Mandarin. I really want and need to knuckle down to learn more. I have been far too lazy and distracted of late. After Tuesday’s 10-0 defeat for Murray’s FC Maine Road against Murray’s FC Aberystwyth, I need a rest and to recovery from my collection of niggling injuries. Being 6-0 down at the break and coming on for the second half was a bad idea. Now back to work…

· Why – Wèishénme

Wèishénme nǐ jīntiān chídào?
Why are you late today?
为什么你今天迟到?

· Where –Nálǐ or Nǎr

Nálǐ and nǎr have the same meaning. Nálǐ is commonly used in Southern China and Taiwan, while nǎr is heard in northern China, including Beijing.

Nǐ zuówǎn qù nǎli?
Where did you go last night?
你昨晚去哪裡?

· When – Shénme Shíhòu

Lǐ xiǎojie shénme shíhou huì dào?
When will Miss Li arrive?
李小姐什么时候会到?

· Which – Nǎ

Nǎ yīge pí bāo bǐjiào hǎokàn?
Which purse looks better?
哪一个皮包比较好看?

· Who – Shéi/shuí

Tā shì shuí?
Who is he?
他是谁?

· How – Zěnme

Zhègè zì zěnme niàn?
How do you pronounce this character?
这个字怎么念?

· How Many – Duōshǎo or Jǐ

Zhè jiàn yáng zhuāng duōshǎo qián?
How much is this dress?
这件洋装多少钱?

Yǒu jǐge rén huì lái?
How many people will come?
有几个人会来?

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

P.S. here is the latest HubHao article… “Our city is full of cyclists. Be they locals riding beaters trying to find a way to beat the rush hour jams to get to work or foreigners taking their mountain bikes into the park on a weekend. With so many bikes available, it’s hard to choose where to buy from. John Acton visited one of the oldest bike streets in Guangcheng.”

Thoughts

27^th November 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Is life a millpond? Or is it a sea with tides and waves? What is the wind and is it positive? A drop in the ocean or plenty more fish worth tasting at the banquet table? If the sea is turbulent, under threat and rising, are we doomed? How many ships can navigate the ocean without a captain? Are we the makers of our destiny and doom? Life is beautiful and the world is full of optimistic light, yet do we cling to desperation and the past? Times gone by, have befell, yet we hope for more of those times. Ever wanted to escape but been too cowardly to know how to? Changes are for the better, or are they? When one hand wants something else, and the other is no longer joined to your’s, what do you do? Am I like those before me? Do I bury my head in the sand? Pray and it’ll all go away? Fight? Argue? End of the days, but beginning of the weeks? I’m not who you think I am, I am what I am. You must do things for you sometime and not for others. If you regret something then maybe it was never right. I have no regrets, do you? Everything happens for a reason, why not choose the reason? Not everyone will understand and nor do they have to. There’s turbulence ahead. A storm is coming. Get on the boat and ride it out. All will be, what will be.

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Wèishénme zǒnɡshì wǒ? [Why always me?] 为什么总是我？

27^th November 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Wèishénme zǒnɡshì wǒ? [Why always me?]

Subj. + 为什么 (wèishénme) + Predicate?

Nǐ wèishénme xué Zhōngwén? [Why do you study Chinese?]

Yīnwèi wǒ zài Zhōngguó gōngzuò. [Because I’m working in China]

Nǐ wèishénme bù hē kāfēi? [Why don’t you drink coffee?]

Yīnwèi kāfēi hěn kǔ. [Because coffee is bitter]

Tā wèishénme bù lái? [Why isn’t he/she coming?]

Yīnwèi tā hěn máng. [Because he/she is busy]

Nǐ zǎoshang wèishénme bú zài? [Why were you not here this morning?]

Yīnwèi wǒ chūqù jiàn péngyou le. [Because I was out meeting some friends.]

Zhèxiē wàiguórén wèishénme bù xǐhuan Zhōngguó? [Yīnwèi Zhōngguó rén tài duō.]

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Si Shi, Huh?

27^th November 2015

Shī Shì shí shī shǐ

Shíshì shīshì Shī Shì, shì shī, shì shí shí shī.
Shì shíshí shì shì shì shī.
Shí shí, shì shí shī shì shì.
Shì shí, shì Shī Shì shì shì.
Shì shì shì shí shī, shì shǐ shì, shǐ shì shí shī shìshì.
Shì shí shì shí shī shī, shì shíshì.
Shíshì shī, Shì shǐ shì shì shíshì.
Shíshì shì, Shì shǐ shì shí shì shí shī.
Shí shí, shǐ shí shì shí shī shī, shí shí shí shī shī.
Shì shì shì shì.

石室詩士施氏，嗜獅，誓食十獅。
氏時時適市視獅。
十時，適十獅適市。
是時，適施氏適市。
氏視是十獅，恃矢勢，使是十獅逝世。
氏拾是十獅屍，適石室。
石室濕，氏使侍拭石室。
石室拭，氏始試食是十獅。
食時，始識是十獅屍，實十石獅屍。
試釋是事。

In a stone den was a poet with the family name Shi, who was a lion addict, and had resolved to eat ten lions. He often went to the market to look for lions. At ten o’clock, ten lions had just arrived at the market. At that time, Shi had just arrived at the market. He saw those ten lions, and using his trusty arrows, caused the ten lions to die. He brought the corpses of the ten lions to the stone den. The stone den was damp. He asked his servants to wipe it. After the stone den was wiped, he tried to eat those ten lions. When he ate, he realized that these ten lions were in fact ten stone lion corpses. Try to explain this matter.

This is similar to the above The Lion-Eating Poet in the Stone Den:

四是四，十是十，十四是十四，四十是四十。

sì shì sì, shí shì shí, shísì shì shísì, sìshí shì sìshí. (some northern dialects of Mandarin)

sì sì sì, sí sì sí, sísì sì sísì, sìsí sì sìsí. (some southern dialects of Mandarin)

Four is four, ten is ten, fourteen is fourteen, forty is forty.

October 2015’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)1 Comment

A brief word from the Department for Common Sense

11^th October 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Now Japan has a job I want. Well, not quite. But, I’d love to have Tear Clearer on my C.V. Ikemeso Danshi will call by with someone handsome and wipe away your tears. Japan has a high number of odd professions, like the sad necessity of cleaning up after the death of lonesome senior citizens. The difference from Chinese to Japanese luxury culture is measured in light years. That said, many luxuries are obscene.

On Thursday, October the 8^th 2015, after seven days spent away from the work, I was gently eased into work with zero classes. Middle school operated a Thursday timetable (and on a Friday, a Friday timetable) in line with popular common sense thinking. On Saturday, they’ll be a Wednesday timetable. I guess the extra day needs something. Primary school opted to go bizarre slotting in a Wednesday timetable on a Thursday, a Thursday timetable on a Friday and Saturday was to be filled in by Friday’s classes. For me, this is a task. Friday (or Friday in middle school, but Thursday in primary school) meant I had four class clashes (timetable clashes, not students at war). Such was the way of the two schools not talking to each other, I couldn’t get the classes moved to Thursday and had to have a day without teaching. I did spend it constructively observing Albin, Anna and Tess’s classes… as well as creating a Halloween collage for display on the school noticeboards. Although, I did manage to teach all the right classes, but not necessarily in the right order on the Saturday. “Rodney, you plonker!”

The week of holiday, golden week in China, was spent on the whole relaxing. Fóshān (it means Buddha Mountain, 佛山) is an area of around 7 million inhabitants, amongst five districts. Chánchéng sits in the centre and houses Foshan Ancestral Temple (佛山祖庙: Fóshān Zǔmiào). The temple was originally built in 1078 (Song dynasty) and rebuilt in 1372 (Ming dynasty). In 1949, as China became the People’s Republic of China, the local government listed the building and museum as one of its main cultural relics. The site is small and features the Wanfu Terrace, Jinxiang Pool, Front Hall, Main Hall and Qingzheng Pavilion. In amongst it all, I was lucky to witness a Lion Dance, Kung Fu fighting, and read about the kung Fu legends Wong Fei Hong and Ip Man in the Memorial Hall. All for 16RMB entrance. Bargain!

Due to impending bad weather, a trip to a park out of town was ill-advised – as was mountain hiking and wildlife spotting. Zhōngshān gōngyuán (中山公园) sat alongside the murky Fenjiang River offered refuge. With some pretty area, old scenery and grim looking zoo areas sat amongst a poor looking funfair, it is safe to say there isn’t much to go to this park for. Unless you like noise. Funfair noises. Mobile-KTV karaoke song machine noises. Instrumental bands playing out of tune instrument noises. Screaming children. Noises, nises, everywhere. With my headache returning, I left the park feeling totally unimpressed. Maybe it was that 10RMB 4D cinema inexperience. The 4/5/6/7/8D cinema should have had vibrating seats. They were broken. It should have 3D vision. The glasses were scratched. It should have had mist and ice. Broken. These cinema efforts are everywhere. The graphics onscreen were comparable to a Commodore-64 game and they seemed to lag just as much as back when I had one. In the 90’s. This cinematic experience sits on a par with viewing Jaws 3D for the first time, on a black and white television… with crackly speakers… whilst sat on a wonky seat… the kind of seat thatis so uncomfortable that you think you need to go to the bathroom but you don’t. It wasn’t just a little bit crap, it was time I wish I had invested in something far more valuable, like counting leaves on a tree.

Beyond that, most of my time has been spent relaxing, reading and exploring the local area. This includes today, the one day weekend that is Sunday the 11^th of October, the 284th day of the year. Today, is International Day of the Girl Child. If you are or were a girl, well done. If you are or were a girl in China, very well done!

In my week off, I noticed much more people taking shameless selfies of themselves. Everywhere. Whether scenic or dull, the selfie sticks and camera phones rolled relentlessly. I wonder if sometimes time is now measured in a new format, like the ability to take Selfies Per Hour or Selfie Free Durations per day. If each selfie image averages 1.4MB in size, and China has a third of its population [the full population is strong at 1,401,586,600] taking selfish snaps, say a round ten times a week for a year… then who the hell has a hard-drive that big [1.020,355 exabytes] sat around. I’d imagine the good people sat at the Department for Common Sense have just that hard-drive, but use it purely for copying illegal downloads of recent movies.

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

21°C, sleeping bags and jumpers: Winter is coming.

14^th October 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

On Monday morning it was my pleasure (or was it a displeasure) to welcome students to school at the unholy hour of 7 o’clock. Having gone to sleep just after midnight, following a terrific 6-3 win in football against a 9-5 victory over Red Lions F.C. by Murray’s F.C. in a late kick-off. My body was tired and my mind was surprisingly well-rested considering the ride to and from Marcelo’s (15 minutes away or 7km through the busy streets of Houjie) sandwiched around nearly two hours of football at Soccerworld Dongguan.

The students mostly arrived to school in their winter uniforms and sweater, jumpers, jackets and anything to wrap up in. The air temperature dropped from the low-thirties to around 21°C on Friday, continuing until Monday night. The Tuesday shot up to 25°C with today (Wednesday 14^th October 2015) being far higher and more humid. One unlucky student turned up to school in his summer shorts (tartan style maroon shorts with a white short-sleeved shirt). The principal of our school, Mr Wang, made him change into his winter uniform. There and then, outside the school gate, he and his grandmother wrestled his clothes onto him. Students passed by but did not mock his choice of Spider-Man boxershorts, they opted to avoid eye contact with him, his grandmother or the onlooking principal. A knowing feeling of “it could have been me” swept around menacingly. The principal does not suffer fools gladly, and one minor misdemeanour can quickly escalate to a grand malfeasance worthy of the most ultimate public humiliation and chastisement. Very rarely does the same mistake or crime occur in Mr Wang’s multi-eyed domain of control. He was born to be a headmaster.

Monday’s classes from class 802 and 804 were cancelled. In the afternoon you could feel the pre-exam tension in both classes 803 and 801. The atmosphere was there to be cut. I tried and it seemed both classes responded well. For Tuesday classes 608, 607, 606 and 605 flew by. I don’t know what it is with Grade 6, but they are so switched on and ready for battle. Every class is greeted with calls of “let me try” and “I can do it.” Now they have added, “We are lions, we are confident.” I kind of like this, because now they all want to be alpha-lions. At lunchtime Anna, Albin and I attended the Grade Six Oral English Competition in which Big Dan claimed the top prize. Big Dan is actually named after my closest and best friend Dan back in the U.K. Notably Big Dan is actually comparative to Little John in the size to name stakes. He’s a smart kid, and made everyone laugh with his family speech, “My father is fat but he can run fast.” To which, one teacher, Apple asked me if I can run fast because I am fat. Hmmm. Not one for the Christmas card list. Asger and Tess did not attend, but then I believe every teacher has been called upon to judge each and every grade causing competition fatigue to set in… that and it is at lunch time depriving you of proper rest! I believe on Thurday there is another competition that requires judges…

The evening was spent playing football for Murray’s F.C. in a thumping 10-1 victory. At half time it was 2-0 and wholesale changes were made, sweeping aside Sociali FC (The Italians of Dongguan). Annoyingly I had a fantastic shot saved and scraped off the woodwork. I don’t shoot too often because I hate going to far forward, to run so far back but I thought I put a nice strike in. Not that it matters because our squad, our team put in a good shift throughout the game. A match report can be found here, on our newly createds Murray’s FC Pitchero website (the company that supports teams like Hyde F.C., Maine Road F.C. and Chelmsford City). If it is good enough for Salford City, it is good enough for Murray’s F.C.

Following yet another not-so-fantastic night’s sleep I was looking forward to a day in the office helping my foreign teacher team. However, grade 6’s exam day moved from today to tomorrow. As such some of my classes moved to today. It should have been all of my classes but the Chinese class teacher and the Maths class teacher fought to retain their afternoon classes. This now means tomorrow I am class free and on Friday will return to action with the four classes of grade 7. Whilst I was walking past a classroom, I noticed a teacher sound asleep in a sleeping bag whilst it is around 26°C this afternoon. If I did that, it would be like boiling rice in a bag. I’d explode and never be seen again. The teachers do keep stressing I should wrap up warm and avoid a cold. Winter is coming. They all have squeaky bottoms. Right now, I am looking for bean bags, props and ideas for Hallowe’en classes which shall commence next Thursday (22^nd October) onwards. Our foreign teacher team will look to create a Hallowe’en area with props, games and activities as well as classes themed to this popular yet spooky western tradition.

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

MCFC (Manchester Chinese Football Connections), okay.

21^st October 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

Manchester, God’s own city, is twinned with Wǔhàn [武汉] and has been since 1986 or 1996, dependent on your news source. Around 2.7% of Manchester’s population is British-Chinese (Yīngguó Huáqiáo/英國華僑), and the city is well known for links with the big red country in the east. Our Chinatown in Manchester is the third largest Chinatown on the European continent. The bold archway (páifāng/牌樓) complete with dragons and phoenixes on Faulkner Street has stood proudly since 1987 and welcomes all to the subdistrict in the city centre. Today, a day after meeting Queen Elizabeth II, President Xi Jinping (习近平/ Xí Jìnpíng) shall visit Manchester. Manchester has long welcomed Chinese folk from the far east and has evolved a restaurant and food importation business both unique and prosperous within the boundaries of the city and beyond. Takeaways, tea shops, cultural colleges, import companies and students followed the early days of laundries and restaurants. M1 was boosted by relations with Hong Kong and freedom to move to the U.K. under the British Nationality Act 1948. Arts centres and banks sit side by side alongside popular karaoke bars like – all aloft an old NATO funded Nuclear Fallout shelter! A mural of a junk (chuán) sits across the side of a wall overlooking a large private car park. Chinatown and Greater Manchester has influenced or given rise to many a talent, including actors such as Benedict Wong (Grow Your Own; 15 Storeys High; The Martian; Spooks and Dirty Pretty Things). Hong Ying “Frank” Soo was the first British-Chinese footballer to play for England (from 1942-45) and was born down the road in Buxton and laid to rest in Cheadle, just outside Manchester. He played football for Stoke City, Brentford, Leicester City, Luton Town and went on to manage over 12 teams including Norway and Scunthorpe Utd. Andrew Ng, a massively respected Associate Professor at Stanford has family links to Manchester.

So, back to Manchester’s twin Wǔhàn [武汉]… I’m not sure I want to visit there for colonial buildings. However, the ten mile long park sat on the famous/infamous Yangtze river looks pretty enough. Huáng Hè Lóu (黄鹤楼; Yellow Crane Tower) looks impressive but I think there are places higher up the agenda than a trip to Manc’s twin city. Unless, the city has a good Oasis tribute band…

So, on Sunday night I found myself the filling on a three-wheel motorbike/rickshaw sandwich. I was cycled, the correct way, along a cycle lane (a rare find but most of Nancheng and Dongcheng has adequate cycle lanes), with a rickshaw heading towards me. The cycle lane is just over a car width wide. The rickshaw (or three wheeled motorised cart) filled 50% of the space leaving me ample room to stay my course on the right of the lane (they drive on the right here, so my path made sense). As I neared the impending rickshaw, a second one appeared from behind, overtaking the one to my left. I braked suddenly, without a reverse option and the two foot high kerb was unmountable. The two metallic tri-wheeled trucks passed around my bike squashing me between them. Both drivers looked at me in surprise. What had I done wrong?! I wasn’t the one heading against the flow of traffic. I rarely use these cycle lanes, because a) they are like a car park usually and b) there are too many pedestrians leaping across to the island between the main road and the cycle lane. The bus stops on this particular stretch, that evening were chock full of commuters and buses ebbing and flowing away at the limited free space. The cycle lane seemed the safest option. Even with a large, but jumpable trench just before my jinxed accident. In the aftermath, I was helped by an onlooking family and given a lift home, eventually. The police took away the motorised treble-wheeled rustbucket drivers and their chariots of doom.

After waking the next day, with some light bruising and a sore nose (it bled a lot at the accident), I went groggily for breakfast, opting for plenty of eggs. I grabbed two bitter dark coffees from the only place open in the morning for such delights and hopped to school. Here classes 801-804 occupied my time and kept any aches and pain at bay. By the evening I felt exhausted but managed to accidentally tag along with someone for Korean food (delicious octopus with beef fried with spicy vegetables; Korean pasta of sorts; an array of starters; a seafood egg dish; Calamari squid rings and more). Whilst unplanned the food was amazing!

Beyond that a good night’s sleep was needed and had. The following day flew by, I always feel infected by the boldness and confidence of the Grade 6 classes. Class 608, complete with a City fan (he’s been watching City since 2009 – aged 6 back then) and a bunch of characters always curious about something or other. I blew their collective minds by informing them that Big Ben is actually called the Elizabeth Tower after our Queen and in fact the largest bell is named Big Ben. Priceless. Everything you have been taught has been lies.

By late afternoon the VIP class of Grade 5, comprising of 16 students, tore my day apart. I tried teaching landmarks (Tower Bridge, the Tower of London, Blackpool Tower, Eiffel Tower etc) and used simple words we have previously covered. As per usual the class splintered away, due to the outside location, with many distractions left right and centre and little space to claim as our own. The entire playground, side areas and gardens had students and classes within them. All classrooms were in use too. Next week, I plan something spooky and Halloween related. I seriously cannot see a route to getting this class into the swing of producing a school show. I won’t give up… but may have to.

Following that, my body felt limber, relaxed, agile and comfortable. So, I headed to play for Murray’s FC in a game against newly formed Winners HengLi FC (by an old player of ours called Sam) at Soccerworld. My body was not ready. Our team slammed a 4-0 lead away and eventually lost 8-5. Many players picked up injuries and I tried to carry on but my left ankle, calf and thigh buckled. I had a dead leg there. On the right leg, my knee was burning. Oh and my nose was swollen still. My right eye stung from a slight bruising. All in all, I needed to see a vet not play football. There was a lesson learnt by many that evening. Our other squad rocketed to a 12-2 win over a local Chinese team in the same evening. After the game, I could barely hobble. The same goes for today, and some students have noticed. So, with their advice, I need to rest more… use tiger balm… and drink more hot water. This is sound advice from the educated youngsters at our school. I will listen to it.

And in other footballing news, Sūn Jìhǎi (孙继海) will be inducted into the English football hall of fame. Officials in Manchester said the accolade for Sun Jihai has been arranged so President Xi can be present. The President will visit the City of Manchester Stadium during his visit Friday where he will watch a match between Manchester City Ladies and a team from China. Sūn Jìhǎi was the first Chinese player to score a goal in the Premier League. He was also a bloody nice guy all round, on and off the field. His efforts this year, aged 38, helped newly promoted Chóngqìng Lìfān (重庆力帆) remain in the Chinese Super League (中超联赛/Zhōngguó Zúqiú Xiéhuì Chāojí Liánsài)). He still plays football in China. Beckham doesn’t. Enough said.

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

July to September 2015’s posts

15/12/201601/01/2024oyster28catcher (JRA)

CXXIV: Greetings from Manchester

5^th July 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do from Manchester,

Day 7 here in my homelands and Aunty Chris with Uncle Ed have been making me feel at home again. The first night I arrived, I practically passed out and slept at Mum and Paul’s place. I did see Astrid later on, but not for too long before seeing my brother Paul Jr (who hasn’t changed one iota). Tuesday was a take-it-easy day at Mum’s, and Wednesday was a take-it-easy day at my Aunt’s followed by a trip to see Dad and my sister Christina. My brother Shaun was away on work experience in Clitheroe.

On Thursday, Astrid and I went to see Minions at the cinema. The film weren’t great. I almost fell asleep. As Astrid departed, I went shopping for a new shirt, shorts, a hat and a pair of walking shoe-sandal hybrids. Somehow a Lego Ghostbusters car was purchased… luxury!

For Friday, I woke up late, visited Mum’s house againa and generally edged out the last jet lag dregs. Yesterday, I had a trip to Aunty Sue’s Pink Party in Daisy Hill, Westhoughton. My friend Kate Lui from college caught up with me here, and we nattered before departing after a few hours. Astrid and I then went to watch Terminator Genisys, which wasn’t that great. Aunty Sue’s Pink Party involved too many cakes being eaten and elderflower Pimm’s being tried. I hope she raised lots of money for her chosen cancer charity.

Today, Uncle Ed, his sister Betty and my Aunty Chris went to a car boot sale at Holly Lane, very close to Manchester Airport. I joined them, buying some cards and books to take back to China. Later we’re off to The Flying Horse, a Hungry Horse owned gastropub next to Manchester Airport.

For the week ahead, I’m off to see Canadian comedian Glenn Wool at The Old Monkey in Manchester and from now until next weekend I have to decide what to do. There’s the Manchester Aiport Festival next weekend; Rawtenstall fair; and so many other things. Manchester City Women face Birmingham City on Sunday the 12^th. I’ll be off to that.

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra from Manchester / Goodbye

The 125th Post

15^th July 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do from Manchester,

Over 102,000 words have been written on this blog in many shapes and forms. I can’t wait for the movie adaptation.

Like the legendary Intercity 125, this post arrives and departs a little later than expected with very little by way of content other than people and things.

Aunty Chris and Uncle Ed are most hospitable as always. My residence at their manor has been extended due to Dad offering the caravan in Morecambe to his neighbour. That’s fine, there is always later on – and it means I can slow down and do bits rather than too much in one go.

Last Friday, was spent hiking up Lud’s Church, Gradbach and Danebridge way with Mum, Paul and Astrid. On the Saturday, I went to see Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds, Johnny Marr and Black Rivers in Castlefield’s Summer In The City concert. I managed to say a fleeting hello to cousin Carly and her fella Ste. On the Sunday morning, Carly’s kid Bobby gave me a laugh on his Le Tour de Living Room 12.66km cycle ride. After this I went out, City Women beat Birmingham City by a single goal in front of a record crowd of 2102. In the evening I met Dad, Shaun and Christina for a catch up.

On Monday, I met my brother Paul and went to watch Cheadle Town’s game at Park Lane with Maine Road F.C. The black and green home side beat the visitors 2-0.

In amongst all this, the idea of cycling from China to the U.K. has gone from being toyed with, to becoming a plan. I think it’ll be done in memory of and as a challenge with some sponsorship aims, but nowt major.

This Friday I’m off with Kate Lui to Pembrokeshire and Swansea, then Saturday in Borth, Sunday and Monday in and around the Welsh Mountain Zoo. Manor House and other places will be visited. This is all part of her plan to buy Borth Animalarium. A kind of fact finding mission with other such ideas to follow. I just can’t wait to see Wales. Cymru am byth!

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra from Manchester / Goodbye

#THESECONDCOMING

27^th August 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / AlrightChuck,

I’m back in Dongguan (Liaoxia, Houjie) eating a Curly Wurly given to me by my super Aunty Christine Bradshaw. It is bloody hot here and jet lag shall make the coming days fun. I’ve unpacked my bags and 75% of it is gifts and things for school. 20% of the contents are two sized 14 shoes (football and lounging variety). There are 8 chocolate bars, a bag of fruit salads/blackjacks and a bundle of Lovehearts in the fridge. I stupidly forgot to buy a large bottle of vimto and have wasted the 30 kilogramme luggage allowance by only bringing 26 kilos of weirdness. I don’t think I have ever gathered as many leaflets about places in Britain, classroom game resources and random pieces of Manchester (mostly Manchester City related) in any task of my life. I meant to bring bite creams and sunblock… I have plenty, and know of many places to buy these thankfully!

On walking from the taxi-limo drop off at the Hyatt Hotel Houjie to my apartment, a few new things have been spotted. The mega Wanda plaza nearby is all lit up and the roads look near enough complete near Liaoxia. Next, and most importantly, the new coffee shop by me is called BIG SHOES COFFEE. It will be good bumping into familiar faces Chris Farman, Bryony Macauley, 翁峰, Marcelo Gomes, and the list goes on… and on… so plenty of excuses for good teas and coffee.

I started to write the below recently… weeks ago recently…

Words have dried up, like the Ural Sea (now desert) in North-Western China/Kazakhstan/Russia, of late. Fear not my fans (I had two emails asking if I’d given up the blog), I am back, full to the brim of new words and old words. None of which have ever been invented by me. There’s no plagiarism here, it is all freshly concocted codswollop of the least prime beef variety. Words and writing for me, is something that demands passion otherwise it lacks bite, when the teeth are hidden and the message becomes sterile. So, what’s occurred of late? Journeys have been had to West Wales (Pembrokeshire twice, Aberystwyth and Colwyn Bay via Borth, Caernarfon and other outposts with many syllables), Cumbria (again of the western extremes), Cornwall and Gloucestershire. The rail network has been utilised, as has the odd lift via Audi Quattro’s and tiny little town cars. I don’t discriminate how to get somewhere. If someone is driving, I’m a fairly well-behaved passenger.

In Cumbria, I scrambled mountains, travelled by a narrow gauge steam train and met my guardian twins. I am officially a guardian father (it is like a Godfather but without the religion or the moniker of a movie franchise). My best friend Dan and Vanessa introduced me to trainee human adults Damian and Alenxander. They strike me as potential conquerors of dreams and yet-to-be-matured girls’ hearts. Dan, Van, the twins, Fuzzy and Baggy (cats) made me most welcome, as always. Dan is my hero, but don’t tell him! I love my best friend to pieces, even if he is of the ginger variety. Further proof I don’t discriminate…

For the first of three quick visits to Wales, a land I love, and a land that feels like my spiritual home (after the M11 area of Manchester), Kate drove us south west to Pembrokeshire, via The Beacons (due to a road blocked by a car accident). We visited Anna Ryder-Richardson’s Manor House Wildlife Park, Borth Animalarium [subject to a possible bid by Kate’s consortium – to be confirmed], Caernarfon, and Colwyn Bay’s Welsh Mountain Zoo… and a stop at Pilau Palas (in Anglesey). The weekend featured expensive food (by my standards) and a brief glimmer of past memories at Aberystwyth. Many folk in Aber said, it has an elastic band effect, meaning the further you go from it, the quicker and harder it slams you back. Several years away from my former university and ATFC-supporting town and several thousand miles away make me yearn to return again. One day. Not for now.

A quick jaunt back to Wales and Rhyl for a friendly football fixture featuring MCFC Academy (mostly 16 year old players) against semi-professional Rhyl FC ended in a 1-0 win for the hard-battling junior Citizens. Shaun and Christina accompanied me for a pleasant night followed by a further good night the following night watching City Women FC cruise to a victory over Durham Ladies in the Continental League Cup. Somewhere in amongst that I caught up with big bro’ Asa and his Mrs Steph down Cam (Gloucester) for about half a day before we surged off to Pembrokeshire. We visited Pembroke Castle, the indoor swim complex (three times) and caught up. Steph’s generous brother (supporter of Aston Villa) Neil and his family welcomed us to stay in their 8 berth holiday chalet in Bluestones. I’d recommend a visit to this Centreparc’s-like village come Scandinavian holiday complex – but be warned, you may need to mortgage your house – and be careful of the risk of black eyes on the water slides (due to congestion and clumsy folk).

In the last week I have visited Nikki and her family in Cornwall. A ska gig (Rudi’s Message), some Footgolf at St. Austell, some football at Illogan R.B.L., a game of rugby league, a kayak up the river Fowey, and some beach lounging at Portreath have made for the highlights of a relaxed week away. Due to rain (prior to this I’ve seen two days of rain in the U.K.) the cinema was needed with Mission Impossible – Rogue Nation and Fantastic Four on the menu. Neither are groundbreaking, both are entertaining but not dull. There should be an annual cap on superhero movies going forward though.

And here I am, sat on a train typing, returning from Cornwall. My advance ticket allowed me to travel Redruth to Tiverton Parkway. I missed the stop and alighted at Taunton. Here I was told, even being almost two hours early, I could get the 17:22 to Manchester (saving changes at Tamworth and Warrington Bank Quay). The train conductor on Cross Country Trains said this is okay after discussion with the First Great Western Train Station Manager at Taunton. For once, on the railways, a quality service has been had – and with the effect of the landslide stalling or cancelling trains in and out of Teignmouth/Dawlish due to a landslide. Common sense action for proper service. Well done them. It is 18:17, my train at Tiverton isn’t due until 18:39 (officially) but is likely to be cancelled. So, I may beat my expected arrival in Manchester at 23:19. We shall see, if so, I’ll write later. So for now, I’ll break from writing.

There ends my previously typed, unpublished junk.

I managed to get home early, by a staggering two hours in the end!!!

In the time I’ve been back I’ve enjoyed TV meals watching Marvelous (an ITV production, well worth a gander) with me mother and Paul; been to the Police Museum in Manchester; watched comedian Glenn Wool in a pub (he was performing, not just drinking); ate and drank too much; seen great art; been here, there and everywhere watching football and seeing friends or family. I’ll miss them all, but here is where I want to work for now. In the words of Arnold J. Rimmer in Red Dwarf, “Smoke me a kipper, I’ll be back for breakfast.” In the meantime…

China, here we go again… #THESECONDCOMING

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra from Manchester / Goodbye

#THESECONDCOMING again

17^th September 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / Alright Chuck,

Tuesday, the 1^st of September 2015 was the first official day of the academic year of Dao Ming Foreign Language School. Naturally it started sweaty, in swelteringly humid hazey conditions. And for me, around 7 o’clock in the morning. Having gone to sleep at 6 o’clock in the evening and waking only for an hour or so at 1 o’clock in the morning, I was tired – and shrugging off jet lag. Without a hearty breakfast in my belly, the day began. My apetite has been severely affected since landing on Thursday. I read up on jet lag and noted the effects wear off completely around the fifth to sixth day, with minor memory and diurnal rhythems completing balancing after 30 days. So, every time I forget something I can blame British Summer Time. Apparently going west to east is worst too.

On the Sunday prior, I whipped my timetable together slotting in eight grade six classes amongst eight grade seven classes and finishing with four grade eight classes. That’s the twenty basic classes in. VIP class followed far later with no mention of the previously taught Science teachers or PE teachers classes. After carrying my new desk up five floors with some colleagues (Go team!), I settled my junk out in the various drawers and around the top. Last year’s desk and contents had vanished in summer (losing me some games, pre-made materials and computer accessories). I have since replaced almost everything.

The first day and second day was spent introducing myself to four new grade 6 classes, and re-introducing myself to four grade 7 classes (mostly comprised of previous grade 6 classes). There are very few new students in the grades I teach. I can quote Chris Cornell’s song “You Know My Name.” Following three days of graft, I had Thursday to Saturday off, due to the Anti-Facism Victory over Japan Day – here it seems to have gone under many names. This is to celebrate China and her allies victory in World War II. There was a huge national parade in Beijing showcasing veterans, current weaponry and lots of speeches. Oddly this event was only established last year! [August 15 is the official V.J. Day for the U.K. but something that has been swept away, like V.E. Day to create the Armed Forces Day… that I could not tell you the date of, because it had no real meaning to me… until I looked it up: The date of 27 June was chosen as it came the day after the anniversary of the first investiture of the Victoria Cross, in Hyde Park, London in 1857.]

Very little happened on the days off other than a game of football in HengLi. The previous week had seen my first game back, away in ZhangMuTou (樟木头). Our team drew 5-5 on the day, in blistering heat and humidity, before no showers (they’d locked them up!) and a meal at a local near-Mafia themed restaurant called Good Eats. After a sweaty journey back, an early night was needed. Instead I opted to swig ales at Murray’s Bar and got a late taxi back. After HengLi we headed very sleepily to Winners Bar for food and a drink or two. Unlike the previous game, a shower was provided, and a refreshingly good win it was. We had lost 4-3 to a very good team from Hong Kong in stupendously painfully hot conditions. With a sore throat, I completed around my third game of 80 minutes inside 8 days… despite a sore throat, headache and our team only having one substitute following Chris having mild sunstroke (a midweek 6-a-side rout of 26-3 being the other… one in which I scored for the first time in ages). Sunblock was kindly provided in HengLi by Sam Grubb and I was very grateful!

After that there hasn’t been any more football played. There was a fantastic end of season football evening with Fede’s magic Argentine barbecue (sounds like a cool band name) at Murray’s Irish Bar; the awards being announced by the compere with no hair (me); the draw of prizes and the presentation of the new kits to our-as-it-stands 35-member strong squad. I had far too many Caipirinhas (Brazil’s national cocktail) that night and had to sleep on Eddy’s sofa. Sam also slept on the sofa, but don’t worry it is a massive L-shaped sofa. The breakfast at Alan’s café was much needed the next morning. Weng, Max, Eddy, Alain [Player of the Year 2015], Werner, Marcelo all picked up awards – as did I [Sportsman of the Year 2015].

I had planned to write something for the blog last Sunday… but one I was hungover, and two my password wouldn’t reset, so I locked myself out. I have lots to write of the last 19 days or so, lots barely covered… and soon it shall be.

My experience of teaching in China inside two years has varied. There is such diversity in teaching, student and even parental ability to encourage learning and the furthering of one’s self. Development here is pushed and highly affected by social stigmas. Parents do not want to lose face and there is a massive emphasis of keeping up with the Joneses. I often read so many bad experiences of teachers here in China, and conversely I hear s many good things too. I have very little to add to the negative camp. I think schools have inevitably bowed to face with respect to hiring foreign teachers. It is a positive thing, but one that should be utilised more respectfully and sparingly. They need to be seen as providing the authentic touch that a langage school requires. If you flip the coin to the other side, I can imagine Mandarin teachers in situ in U.K. schools would offer an insight both culturally and in teaching techniques. Respect breeds respect and a good teacher can build confidence in a student’s ability to learn via genuine native language speakers or examples. They can also relax to a degree and learn at a pace that suits the student. I’ve noticed that classes develop as if part of a communal team, far easier here than in the U.K. I suspect that Chaos Theory and education in China are massively linked. I’ve noticed black Americans, hispanic Americans, anyone who looks remotely Asian and speaks fantastic English are frowned upon by some schools – and have seen friends ejected from schools to this end.

Private schools can either be incredibally hands on or massively hands off. There are always summer camp and winter camp invites. I have experienced a summer teaching and the emphasis switched from academic to entertainer very easily. Busy parents need a babysitter. That said, the usage of English as a second language can ony reinforce educating those at these camps. Summer camp experience, especially in varied grades (kindergarten through to college level teaching) certainly racks up the job invites… which in my case is negative because I am happily contracted. With respects to students in private schools, they’ll always appear sharper due to the opportunities presented to them. There are those who have, and those who have little, like most societies. However, I find the Chinese work damn hard to push young kids into as many extra-curricular or study classes as financially possible, often at the high expense of the whole family unit. If they’re a male, it helps. I think the elite schools and classes adapt and create newer, fresher activities and study topics thus always keeping the elite of the elite going forward.

So, tomorrow I’ll write more, about home comforts, money, school and being back etc

Vimto in China? That is a question. So is this? Why do I want something from home in China? Why do I want home comforts? Why can’t I adapt and simply do as the local’s do?

Wrong Vimto. Vimto was going to hit China! Import a 1000 cases…

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra from Manchester / Goodbye

ACTON POWER & THE IRON GODDESS OF TEA

21^st September 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

I said I’d write, and writing I am. Here we go again. No more massive breaks from my spewed words. Written and annoted diarrhea will plummet all over your screen and run down your monitor, all over your keyboard like an explosion at a jam factory (explosions in Chinese factories never happen, wink-wink-nod-nod).

This last Wednesday Mr Sun, of class 703, told me a student, Lucy, had invited me to her birthday party with her class that very evening. I dutifully and curiously accepted the request. So, around 7.45pm I tottered into school, and was promptly dragged into the large classroom (converted from the old gym, a year previous). Here Lucy sat me with her friends and we talked, then I went around the tables. Mr Sun told me I must sing a song for the class, I said I only knew “Happy Birthday” to which he asked me to sing both verses. I then realised the second verse is the one about god blessing your birthday or something similar. There was no way I could sing anything hinting at religion or creationists, out of my own beliefs and China’s strict religion rules.

After Lucy’s mother and brother Jack had presented a huge multi-layered colourful cake, Mr Sun grabbed me up. I said in the U.K. we only have one or two birthday songs, I sang a tiny section of the Congratulations and Celebrations made famous by the infamous Sir Cliff Richards. I explained to the students that the words were so difficult and promptly conducted the simpler Happy Birthday. On the second attempt I managed to get the students to sing “happy birthday dear Lucy”, rather than repeating the other line! Following this I taught the art that is hip, hip hooray. Then the class went dark, candles were lit and a Chinese song was sang. My Good Brother (我的好兄弟) is very famous here and tells of friends sticking together in less than happy times.

This weekend flew by, partially written off by a walk up Guan Yin Shan (a mountain) with a massive granite Buddha on top. Guan Yin is Chinese for the Goddess of Mercy. The park is famous globally and draws massive crowds. The walk up the mountain does not. Most opt for elongated golf-buggy buses. The climb up does not give any mercy to your knees. It can be stupendously steep. Along the route, partially being reconstructed on my visit, there are many things to see, Ostriches, Emus and Vultures in grim enclosures… sculptures of various historical pieces and the view, upwards, seemingly endlessly upwards. Then you reach the top, the gift shops and Guan Yin square. Here sits the 33 metre high Goddess of Mercy and various statues, religious relics and a fantastic ornamental oriental diorama.

For your troubles a cool drink is required. I had four on the way up. One more at the top was swigged, as dark clouds and an increasing chance of rain approached. Rain never arrived thankfully. With my imbibed drink, I bounced around and looked at the view, hazy and hidden amongst dusty air. I was told the air would be fresher here near to Zhāngmùtou (樟木头). It was not! The three hour L4 bus journey from Nánchéng via the L1 from Houjie did not seem like it took forever but I wouldn’t head here on a bad day! That said there was a few of the city flowers on the slopes. The yùlánhuā is quite a pretty flower.

After a long walk up, a long walk down followed. After a lengthy wait for a bus, with hunger in force (I hadn’t had breakfast or lunch) none arrived. I walked as the day set, a long stroll trying to find another bus or bus stop for some time. On passing one junction I spotted Acton Power. My family name has been used in China, but I suspect as a spelling error… Yang Tōng Dòng Lì is written above it… I’m trying to work out what this means… something, something maybe through/open… driving force… I’ll find out soon!

For more information about the park, I looked at http://www.guanyinshan.com/ which gave me a little more of a background. However, I noticed that information about the construction dates, wildlife and plants in the region to be very selective and a little sparse.

Zhāngmùtou happens to be my latest township to explore [18/32 townships] and get an understanding of, with a little bit of knowledge about it too. It is massive though. The area of this district town is 118km². In perspective, Manchester’s central city district area is 44.65 sq mi (115.65 km²). Manchester has a fairly dense population by comparison: 11,260/sq mi (4,349/km²). Zhāngmùtou has 1,117.97/ km². The district I am in has 3,478.43 people per square kilometre. Some have 12,553.09 per square kilometre. Yet all seem so built up by industry, sprawling often-empty towerblocks, construction sites and housing. Wild green areas are uncommon, often punctured by farming and parkland is vast yet overcrowded. If the people of China could see how empty Heaton Park is in Manchester on any given day, they’d welcome with open arms the peace and quiet – but maybe not the cold dull weather. Or the dark characters tucked away in the shadowy bleak bushes. Or any stray Oasis fans, lost from a concert many moons ago. Or the bags of dog foul, shamelessly tied to trees. Or Frank Gallagher’s inspirational body doubles.

In comparison Dongguan has 17,572.9 km² (6,784.9 sq mi) of surface area. Greater Manchester has less than a tenth… at 1,276 km² (493 sq mi). Here in Dongguan there is a heavier population of 2,500/km² (6,600/sq mi) [compared to Manc’s 2,105/km² (5,450/sq mi)] but in the dense central regions the population can easily be double the metro area statistics. Dongguan, China’s 8^th biggest city is massive, and still growing, far above the last records of 7,271,300. It is expected to surpass Wǔhàn and Tiānjīn to nuzzle alongside the neighbouring cities of Shēnzhèn and Guǎngzhōu. Hong Kong may have one of the most populated densities in and around China, but from there on up to Guǎngzhōu there is little relief from the Pearl River’s ever-growing all-consuming urban-straggle.

But, what surprises me is that within all this mass of buildings, townships are built up of so many villages and communities… and somehow each area retains or has created its own unique characteristics. Yes, the primary retail shopping areas have the same old, same old, but look beyond that and there are surprisingly distinctive areas of schools, gardens, pathways and business ventures. Some are copy and paste but each has its own feel and ambience. There is plenty of aspiration to the west, but every now-and-then someone bucks the trend. A new venture pops out. Liaoxia, in the shadow of Houjie’s new impending Wanda Plaza is blossoming with boutique cloth shops, shoe stores and a massive amount of coffee houses. Too many, I feel. When I arrived in February 2014, there was just one coffee shop: Coffee 85. Now there are many… Coffee 85 is surrounded by Tommyboy (I had an okay meal there recently), Panda Love coffee, Big Shoes coffee (their cappucino is adequate), a Taiwanese coffee place, two others I cannot read, a little coffee booth indoors, five outdoor vendors (some do very cheap teas), and Tea 86 (as wide as a door, really), presumeably the cousin of Coffee 85. None open in the morning. All open for the evenings and afternoons. All do very good cups of jīn jú níng méng chá (kumquat lemon teas) and most do a variety of milky teas.

My top 5 teas (chá) are:

In at number 5… A tea I quite like is Teh Terik, or locally known as lāchá (it is a pulled tea) from Malaysia and Singapore. The flavour is strong mostly of black tea, condensed milk and evaporated milk. It can be accompanied by cinnamon, ginger and other oddities, even coffee.
At number 4, Xī Hú Lóng Jǐng chá is a powerfully strong tea with rich flavour, from the region of Hángzhōu (Zhèjiāng province). I’m told Yǔqiánchá is better Lǜchá (green tea) but this is only available around April and May.
In third place it is jīn jú níng méng chá (kumquat lemon tea) available cold, hot and beautifully interchangeable with other fruity additions. This is fantastic for the immune system boost that tropical climes demand. Black and green teas are switchable. A perfect recipe sits below:

50ml kumquat juice (around 8-10 nine small kumquats are required); 1/2 small lemon (or lime); 1 tablespoon honey (sugar is okay; as is sweetener); 1 salty plum (optional, it will add a dry bitter twist);
4-5 kumquat rinds (you should have leftovers; again optional); 1 ½ teaspoons black or green tea; boiling water. This’ll make 500mls of jīn jú níng méng chá (kumquat lemon tea). Squeeze the juices from the kumquats and lemon (or lime), add the sweetener or honey (or sugar). Put the above into a teapot. Add the tea, pour in the boiling water. Let it stew, let it stew, let it stew… then pour (use a filter if your teapot hasn’t got one). Enjoy.

At number two, all the way from Taiwan or Hong Kong or somewhere… zhēnzhū nǎichá (珍珠奶茶/Pearl Milk Tea) is available in a million flavours and forms. Most feature tapioca. Sometimes it is called bōbànǎichá (波霸奶茶) although bōbà can be slang for boobs or breasts. Who doesn’t like curvy bubbly thingies?!
At the top, in number one tea hails from the province of Ānxī, Ān xī Tiě (Iron) GuānYīn (Goddess) [铁观音]. It is a wūlóng chá (oolong tea) and when added to honey, it is so sweet, energising and aromatic. Like my number four choice, Ān xī Tiě GuānYīn chá features on lists grandly entitled Ten Great Chinese Teas (中国十大名茶) and China’s Famous Teas (中国名茶) – both are based on current tea trends.

In looking up the exact name of the tea, I often enjoy it is remarkably similar to the mountain I last ascended. Up this moutain, I was thinking how I’d love to see a tea producing area. I appreciate the time and effort put into making a cup of tea possible. The more I read about it, the more I appreciate it as not being a simple matter…

plucking tea leaves (cǎi qīng)
sun withering (shài qīng)
cooling (liàng qīng)
tossing (yáo qīng)
withering (wĕi diào)
fixation (shā qīng)
rolling (róu niǎn)
drying (hóng gān)
Possible roasting and scenting
Packaging
Delivery
Tea-making

Right, after all that I fancy a brew… not a Typhoo, PG Tips or Tetley’s teabag is in sight…

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Dàojiào, Guǎnchéng, Nánchéng, Dōngchéng, Hǔmén & Zhāngmùtou.

21^st September 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

So far I have explored several districts in and around Dongguan and more specifically Houjie. Here in Houjie there are many things to see and do, go and eat (like the HJ International Rotating Restaurant, Munchalots, Irene’s Bar, etc). Houjie boasts some odd titles:

“Town of Hygiene in China”, “Famous Town of Exhibitions in China”, “Town with the Strongest Education in Guangdong”, and a “Civilized Town of Dongguan City”. There’s a sports park (体育馆), Fushengang (福神岗), Henggang Reservoir (横岗水库) and Dalingshan (大龄山). More info on Houjie can be found here.

In the meantime, here are six local areas…

Area

best reached from Hòujiē Zhèn (厚街镇) by bus(es) (Houjie):

Reasons to visit/Places to eat or drink/Landmarks etc

道滘镇

Dàojiào Zhèn

沙田1路; 310路 to东莞市道滘镇西部干道旁

It is ~10km away.

The food festival around the Dragonboat Festival; the river scenery; local foods like Daojiao rice noodles, Daojiao glutinous rice dumplings, Daojiao meat balls, Daojiao porridge, Daojiao cakes and Daojiao egg pie. An old but useful link.

A HereDG guide can be found here.

莞城街道

Guǎnchéng Jiēdào

The L1 bus pretty much ends that way. L1: Guancheng (Keyuan Garden)–Humen (Weiyuan Barbette Field) (6:00－19:00)

Main stops of the L1: Keyuan Garden, Guancheng Culture Square, Dongguan International Travel Service, Nancheng Walking Street, Houjie Furniture Market, Houjie Exhibition Center, New Humen Bus Station, Humen Apparel Market, Humen Square, Linzexu Park, Weiyuan Barbette Field, Naval Battle Museum

The 201/217 can be taken changing onto the 6/48 at Nánchéng bus station.

Buses 3, 4, 7, 15, 16, 20, 28, 30, 31, 45, 46, 2A, C2, C4, L1(58), L2 (59), L3 (60), L5 pass close-by to Keyuan (which costs 5RMB to enter).

It is ~15km away.

Ying’en Gate is very old; 21 Art Space museum is modern; fancy something Turkish, then get to Anatolia; there’s the main museum; an art museum; the grand Keyuan gardens and museum (可园博物馆, 东莞市莞城区可园路32号) – an amazing place (see here). An old source of info. A recent link for the government.

District guide at HereDG.com

南城街道

Nánchéng Jiēdào

The L1 and 113 pass through here.

Many other buses can be taken to and from Nánchéng bus station (东莞市南城汽车站, 南城区科技路袁屋边地段).

It is ~6 to 10km away.

An old useful link. The local government site. The Yulan Theatre, Heritage Museum, Science and Technology Museum, public library and Children & Youth Palace are very much central features. Brown Sugar Jar music bar have just moved there. A great source of foreign food can be found in Corner’s Deli. For speed nuts, Go Karting is close to the Walking Street. The visa office is important too. Soccerworld (索福德, 南城区体育路3号东莞体育馆) is located next to a basketball arena and the old football stadium.

District guide at HereDG.com

东城街道

Dōngchéng Jiēdào

Take the L1 bus, change before TiYu Lu in Nancheng, swap for the C1 bus to DogCheng bus station: 东莞市莞长路牛山村.

It is ~12 to 18km away.

An old link for Dongcheng. Alan’s Café, Jay’s Deli, Corner’s Deli, Martin’s Bakery café, Murray’s Irish Bar, One For The Road, Roadhouse, Decathlon sports store (迪卡侬, 东城区火炼树鸿福东路560号), other massive western places like Wanda Plaza Vista and DynaCity, Turkish food at Nazar (东城区东纵路208号万达广场室外步行街(万达金街)1栋41号铺), Pal’s Bar, Subway, Papa John’s, Tangla, a charity shop called Treasures of Hope… etc

There’s HuangQi to go climbing.

HereDG.com and HubHao cover this area extensively.

虎门镇

Hǔmén Zhèn

The L1 bus ends at the Opium War Museum (鸦片战争博物馆, 东莞市虎门镇解放路88号). Bus 222A路 and 201路空调 go into the town area.

It is ~16km away.

Linked deeply to the Opium Wars of 1839-1842, the Sea Battle & Opium War Museum (shaped like something from Jurassic Park), Weiyuan (Bocca Tigris: Tiger gate) Fort (威远炮台), four other forts, the Tiger Gate Huge Bridge (Hǔmén Dàqiáo). An old link to the town can be found here whilst HereDG have added something far more recent.

樟木头

Zhāngmùtou

The L4 bus ends at GuanYinShan.

L4: Dongguan Central Bus Station—Guanyin Mountain Forest Park(6:10-20:20)

Main stops: Dongguan Central Bus Station, Jinfeng Residential Garden, Hongyuan Industrial Park, Nancheng Hospital, Donghao Plaza, Donghu Residential Garden, Donghua Hospital, East Bus Station, Huangjiang East Station, Huangjiang Square, Baiguodong Industrial Park, Zhangmutou, Guanyin Mountain Forest Park.

It is ~60km away.

Zhāngmùtou was somewhere I visited twice in the space of a month. GuanYinShan Mountain Park has more information on http://www.guanyinshan.com/. Western food can be found at the spacious and luxurious Good Eats. An old link can be found here.

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodby

Relentless

26^th September 2015

The strain of the pain infused his teeth to grind without control. His muffled screams bore into the soft pillow. A whimper at first then an immense roar of discomfort. The agony of a hurt so deep and relentless. As his right leg cramped in smarting pain, his left leg joined the stinging sensation party. The tenderness made his upper body contract without release. His interncostal muscles tightened and oxygen appeared to refuse to travel within his blood. For a few moments he thought he would pass out. To lose consciousness. To escape the hurt. As he throbbed, his mind tried to regain control, to ease the tension within. The severe spasms of his chest slowly eased. The shooting sensations of pain withered to a dull ache. He breathed deeper and slower. His dizzying mind aimed and focused. With every inhalation the episode of intercostal constraint shrunk. His ribs felt looser, his breathing steadier. His legs pounded and pulsated in various degrees of intensity. His left side of the chest felt sprained. All the while his legs tightened and constricted around his knee caps. The chest stiffness and leg pains made him want to remain lay on his back. The sofa beneath him soaked full of sweat. Anxiety, worry, concern and a nervousness to move. The previous debilitation was not something he wanted to repeat.

After four minutes, and what seemed like an eternity the leg muscles loosened but not without the odd jolt of thunderous pain. The legs reminded him, he should fear their power. With apprehension he twisted around slowly, occasionally writhing in agony. How had this happened? How could anything be so painful? When could he move freely again? Had he done too much? His body has limits and he hadn’t listened to the limits. After some time ice and a cold compress met his thighs, ribs and kness. The coolness smoothening the affected areas in a way only a mother can comfort a crying child. With limited stretches, he eventually turned his body, and lowered his feet to the ground, taking every motion with absolute care and attentiveness. The bulge above his right knee relaxed, slackening to taut but not overly tense muscle.

Now it was time to recover. From his knowledge of muscle recovery, he needed water. He opened the fridge door to find a two litre bottle of cold water. He opened the lid with ease. A desperate want for water. He upended the bottle and took two fast glugs before slowing the intake of the drench. Instinct told him to down the bottle fast. His mind battled against this taking only a little, but by bit. After consuming half a litre, he looked in his kitchen cupboard. He needed potassium and calcium. No such joy. Not one banana. He ambled back to the fridge, all the while gaining confidence that the episode of multiple cramps was over. Here in the fridge, one litre of milk stood. He opened it carefully and took gentle swigs.

The next day, with the cramp in mind, he looked up stretches in a library to help alleviate the possibility of such a cramp bout. He would incorporate them into his fitness regimen. Armed with callisthenics such as the behind-the-head chest stretch, elbows-back exercise, chest stretch on a stability ball, chest-expansion stretch and the doorway chest stretch he would try to beat this type of cramp. The prospect of visitors spying him raising his arms to shoulder height, keeping them straight and rigid before quickly spreading his arms outward as far as he could and then back to the starting position, did not bother him. This exaggerated clap could be taken as a welcoming applause. However, repetitions of up to ten stints may seem slightly silly to a new spectator.

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

This week I have used talking in the third person as a fun way to tell a story about your day. Using him, her, his, hers, she, its, they, them, their, theirs and it can make a student think sharper and see the difference between the first (I, we, mine, our, ours, us)/second (you, your, yours) involves stopping, slowing down and thinking how to change the structure of a sentence. Thow in possessive, objective and subjective cases and flip a few tenses over and it al is jolly good fun. The students also correct each other and work as a team. Next week, I’ll print out some of the new words I’ll teach and ask the students to make fun sentences that make sense but sound silly.

Tomorrow is the Mid Autumn Festival, 中秋節 (Zhōngqiū Jié). It is held on the 15^th day of the 8^th lunar month to coincide with a full moon. Amongst the moon gazing, stuffing the faces full of mooncakes (月饼; yuè bĭng) and drinking of cassia wines there are many stories being told and other traditions being observed. Like many Chinese festivals families come together, and where not geographically possible then friends group as one. There is a thanksgiving of sorts for the harvest of crops and praying for babies, a new husband or wife, self beauty, self longevity, or for a good future. Folk tales revolve around the legend of Chang’e, the Moon Goddess of Immortality. There are lanterns on poles, some with riddles (灯谜,dēng mí), the sky lanterns (tiān dēng 天燈). The movie Raise the Red Lantern (大红灯笼高高挂; Dà Hóng Dēnglong Gāogāo Guà) amongst other favourites are being screened locally in squares and cinemas. There is also another story Jade Rabbit Blasts Off to the Moon!

Local shops have copious amounts of pomelos (shaped like a moon), oranges (lunar shaped), grapes (mini moons), pears (here they are shaped like the moon – Nancy in 603 gave me one the other day and it was the best pear I have ever eaten) and other such fruits. Dao Ming Foreign Language School gifted two tins of mooncakes to each teacher. They often are made of pastry (lard/oils in the crust) and filled with a red bean, lotus seed paste and other ingredients. Some taste sweet, others sour and sweet, others fatty and filling, whilst some are light and soft in texture. There are even solid chocolate mooncakes out there (made by the Swiss).

In school this week the air temperatures has exceeded 36°C, and feeling around 44°C with the humidity factor. The grade six classes 603-608 are all located on the fifth floor of the main primary school building. The roof is flat. The classes are ovens. The teachers don’t seem to grasp that closing windows and turning on the air conditioner with fans spinning away will cool the room, after a while. They instead find it too hot early on, open all the doors and windows wit said air conditioner pissing into the wind. It hasn’t got a chance. Not a possibility of wintriness or coolness to be felt. The fans act against the air, wafting down hot blasts of heat into the drooping wiltering students. Their patience tested by the heat and the teacher before them. Two afternoon classes in particular, observed by Joanna and April from my company, tested my resolve but were great fun. As I poured with water, and sapped the dregs of energy I had the classes on so much edge, one girl cried as her team lost and one boy on an opposition team became consumed by anger at his team losing. The other five teams, especially the one that were victors seemed considerably happier. The problem of balancing around 36+ students is there are varying abilities. Apple, the girl you cried, has far higher confidence and vocabulary usage than all of the other students in the entire grade. This week she’ll enter an English language competition with Daniel form grade 5 (who has by far one of the best vocabulary uses in the entire school and gets angry when he is told to drink hot water). They both have to read words and pronounce them correctly for about one minute each. The second part involves a speech about Dongguan (Apple has opted for a start with a song) and in particular the uniqueness of Dongguan. Cherry, head of grade five teachers, drafted the speeches, I edited them and corrected a few points. I did suggest Apple’s song is a little unusual but Cherry chose it – and will stick by it. The last leg involves making speech using three words inside the space of thirty seconds. So if the words are flabbergasted, mischievous and otorhinolaryngologist then the judges are merciless, just like my cramp on Wednesday night. Class 704 on the ground floor gave me the intellectual equivalent of cramp. Three of the smallest students are Gremlins reborn.

In local, national and international news, I didn’t even know that George Osbourne was here. I guess that is down to the subject of human rights which leads me to my favourite quote of him, “”We raise human rights, but we do it in the context of talking about issues like economic development.” So make money, not lives? Other news on national TV has covered a called for death sentence for Panda poaching… and eating. My favourite news spotted is this sickening love letter of a video. Proper gander at that! One of the regions, I want to visit, Xīnjiāng (新疆), is under deep news scrutiny and that could affect any travel plans that way! George Osbourne went there too, hope he never upset anyone. And now, how do I plan to waste my Saturday? Well, I got up in reasonable time, lazed a little and later I will do summat…

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye

Ideas, Turkish delights and more about… Tángxià, Shātián, Hénglì, Qiáotóu, Dàlǎng & Dōngkēng

28^th September 2015

Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do,

idea

ʌɪˈdɪə/

noun

noun: idea; plural noun: ideas; noun: the idea

a thought or suggestion as to a possible course of action.

“recently, the idea of linking pay to performance has caught on”

synonyms:

plan, design, scheme, project, proposal, proposition, suggestion, recommendation, aim, intention, objective, object, purpose, end, goal, target

“our idea is to open a new shop”

a mental impression.

“our menu list will give you some idea of how interesting a low-fat diet can be”

synonyms:

concept, notion, conception, conceptualization, thought, image, mental picture, visualization, abstraction, perception; More

hypothesis, postulation

“the idea of death scares her”

an opinion or belief.

“nineteenth-century ideas about drinking”

synonyms:

thought, theory, view, viewpoint, opinion, feeling, outlook, belief, judgement, conclusion

“Elizabeth had other ideas on the subject”

the aim or purpose.

“I took a job with the idea of getting some money together”

synonyms:

purpose, point, aim, object, objective, goal, intention, end, end in view, design, reason, use, utility, sense, motive; More

value, advantage

“the idea of the letter was to get patients to protest”

Philosophy

(in Platonic thought) an eternally existing pattern of which individual things in any class are imperfect copies.

(in Kantian thought) a concept of pure reason, not empirically based in experience.

Origin

late Middle English (in sense 3): via Latin from Greek idea ‘form, pattern’, from the base of idein ‘to see’.

So, I have an idea. An idea that I want to write. To mix in with a hatful of ideas all dotted around, scribbled, some typed. So, this will be an idea that shall develop over the week off from October the 1^st to 7^th. I’ll try to escape from all around me and sit down and turn the idea into an end product. I have ten works in progress that I want to fine tune. The dream is there, the will is there and the strength to follow through on my ideas has long been there. I am a lion. That is something I tell my students, “You are lions. Be confident.” The pre-class pep talk either gives verve in heated conditions or floats by a few with potency leaving others saying they don’t understand it.
Today, in class 804 they went wild and some beat their chests, they had awoken and wanted to go to battle with a tough English subject. In class 802, it fell on them like a damp drop of rain. I don’t think they were in the least bit interested from the off and the class was a struggle. Their form teacher tells me they were sleepy all morning and massively controlled by three leaders of their teams to the absolute point of full restraint. To get any emotion or response that day would be a major victory in a battle firmly marked as unwinnable. A tad like Manchester City’s sorry showing this last weekend at White Hart Lane. Fight to the end? #FloppedOverByTheEnd #TypicalCity. I still think we’ll come good… With 5 home games in Manchester and 1 away game at Old Trafford in the coming month of October, we should be aiming to more than bounce back!

Sunday was spent at the pleasant KeYuan Gardens (after the L1 bus arrived there in good time) in Guǎnchéng before a wander to meet Jojo for Turkish tea… and Turkish coffee… before having… can you guess… Turkish lunch… and then a walk. Back in China, Chinese China and not the Ottaman–infused Turkish China. The day was swelteringly hot, remaining above 35°C for long periods of time. In direct sunlight you probably could have cooked an egg on my shimmering head had it not been for the sunblock, sunhat and absence of an egg. I opted for a climb up HuangQi settling for one peak I hadn’t visited before, not by choice, more by accident. A left turn after a windy bendy snake-like path should have been a right turn. Bus number 26 and then the L1 returned me to Houjie.

I’m told today will be cooler. It isn’t as humid but that said it is only 31°C with patchy clouds making good viewing for the blood moon-supermoon-eclipse (last seen in 1982 – I don’t remember it, I may not have been born, next visible in 2033) treble whammy of moons tonight. I want to see the 7-8% increase in moon size appearance. The scattered blue light from our Earth’s surface will allow the red light to shine on the moon for a while, it should appear grey, red or orange. Either way a rusty crappy colour, inferior to blue. The moon is grey-white-blue usually. The moon should sit in front of the stars of the constellation Pisces.

After six key link page summaries of Dàojiào, Guǎnchéng, Nánchéng, Dōngchéng, Hǔmén & Zhāngmùtou… here are six more:

Area	best reached from Hòujiē Zhèn (厚街镇) by bus(es) (Houjie):	Reasons to visit/Places to eat or drink/Landmarks etc
东坑镇 Dōngkēng Zhèn	If you start from Dongguan Bus Station, take bus No. L3 get off at Fuzhu shan stop and transfer to bus No. 76 at Xingdu stop. If you start from Dongguan Nancheng Bus Station, take bus No. 16 to Dongguan East Bus Station and transfer to bus No. 76. If you start from Dongguan East Bus Station, take bus No. 76.	Dōngkēng is something of a cement magnet but for one day a year it becomes a huge water fight and most of the year it remains very much standard. A good guide is located here. The name of the town comes from the words east and puddle. The town is also famed for Tangbu shuai, or sweet sticky rice balls. Read about the water fight to end all battles in puddles at HubHao.
大朗镇 Dàlǎng Zhèn	Bus L4, which goes through downtown, can take you there, too. The journey time will be about two hours.	Dàlǎng could be anywhere, in any city. The government website shows the usual city suburb skyline. It is geographically sandwiched between the Shenzhen to Dongguan expressway and the Dongguan to Huizhou highway. The Changping to Humen expressway adds extra weight to a place surrounded by buys roads. The Tianyu Opera House and Yongzheng Lecture Hall add to a rich culture, famous also for wool and lychees. HereDG added a guide. This is a town famous for basketball too, the Shenzhen Leopards once lived here. An older area called Dajing Tou Village is worthy of a gander. Look up the Fu De Tang temple based in CaiBian. There is mountain biking too.
桥头镇 Qiáotóu Zhèn	There are bus lines that go directly to Qiaotou from Dongguan main bus stations. A taxi may cost 120RMB.	Qiáotóu has a really pretty lake. It is named after the end of a bridge. It is kind of like Bridgend in Wales (or loosely Pen-y-Bont) but not as crap. Close to Huizhou and far from the centre of Dongguan, here you can find the central lake full of lotus or rape seed fields. Between the crops it is just water and people tending to the needs of either plant. There is a nice park and old stadium sat behind the lake beneath a hill with an octaganol podium stood on it. Song Wuzhou or Song Wu Delta. A good link can be found here and there. Or via this hotel!
横沥镇 Hénglì Zhèn	From Dongguan East Bus Station you can take the 116. From Dongguan Wanjiang Bus Station take the K18, 70 or 76.	Hénglì means horizontal ditch. Here you can drink at Winners Bar and have a kip in a ditch, carefully. Expect to see cattle and the famous cattle markets. The local football team is called HengLi Buffalos. In late October to early November there is a cattle festival. What a load of bull? Xinbuzheng Street is a beautiful old street with many world styles of architecture. There’s more info here and there.
沙田镇 Shātián Zhèn	Bus 217路空调; 沙田1路; go close.	Shātián sounds bad. There isn’t much there to be fair. A great rowing boat sculpture is out there, somewhere, unfound. There is a port of sorts and plenty of construction. Many things happen here, mostly on water. Islands, rivers, inlets and lakes make up a huge district. A useful link.
塘厦镇 Tángxià Zhèn		Tángxià is famous for international golf courses forming part of the world famous Mission Hills. Footgolf (it opens to the public on October the 9th) is present alongside mountain biking and more. The Dapingzhang Forest Park sits to the southwest. In the centre the petite Lulu Bar is known as a place for for foreigners to frequent. For more info look here.

Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye