Zhongguo

Mulan, Yuè Fēi, Dragon Boats, Qi Xi & Qing Ming Jie

oyster28catcher (JRA)

RECOVERED FROM THE DEMISE OF HUBHAO.COM

Badasses of Chinese History:  Huā Mùlán

 

One of my favourite legends surrounds Ahmad ibn Fadlan’s and his journey north from Baghdad with and observations of Vikings.  Ever since reading the novelisation Eaters of the Dead by Michael Crichton, I have been fascinated by folklores, myths and fables.  In legends we can relate to their accounts, discover our own histories and create a personality we can never possibly know.  In Michael Crichton’s afterword he gave the view that history and legend can be interesting “if presented in the correct way.”  The story he wrote surrounded the legend of Beowulf – in response to a close personal friend lecturing on the “Bores of Literature.”

I’ve never seen Disney’s Mulan, nor have I seen several of the other film adaptations studios have spewed out since the early 1920’s.  The works just do not interest me.  Fascination in China surrounding the story of Huā Mùlán (sometimes referred to as Fa Mulan – Huā means flower) continued with a modern play starring Méi Lánfāng – a man playing the heroine.  Prior to that legends and stories told of this unlikely lass’s rise to the fore.  Disney’s animated effort was the first ever Disney DVD release – and the first cartoon by the same production company to tackle warfare openly.  For many people outside of China it may have also been the first chance to see a little of China’s vast culture and history.  Without it, we’d probably not have heard of Christina Aguilera too (she sang on the soundtrack).

 

The original legend was transliterated in “The Ballad of Mulan” more than a thousand years ago by an author who was never named amongst an anthology that has subsequently stayed mislaid to history.  The oldest copy of the narrative, comprised of just 31 couplets, portrays Mulan’s triumphant military career throughout which she masked her gender from her fellow combatants.  Ultimately she led a war-winning battle and is given reverence by the Emperor.  The Emperor furnishes a cash reward and a senior post in the army.  After twelve years of service and a bucketful of praise, she sought retirement.  Instead of rewards, she opted to live out her days in her hometown.  Home is where the heart is.  Even on returning to her hometown, her companions from the armed forces did not know she was a she, they still thought she was in fact a he.  Twelve years of poor observations on their part.

The famous poem, limited to around 31 couplets, received stage treatment in the 12th century, lay dormant for five centuries before returning to the frontage.  Another stage adaptation and the novel Sui Tang Yanyi pushed Huā Mùlán back into discussion.  Historical bases debated Mùlán’s family name.

Sui Tang Yanyi, Guō Màoqiàn and Chu Renho have the honours for most adapted and printed versions of the Huā Mùlán story.  When was Huā Mùlán around?  Somewhere before the Tang Dynasty and strewth knows when.  There isn’t really anything written down prior to the poem, Ballad of Mulan.  Where did Huā Mùlán reside?  Again, scholars and literary critics will argue until they’re blue in the face.  The Northern Wei (Běi Wèi) is argued by Xu Wei’s play, whereas, the Sui Tang Yanyi romantic novel has her as a founder of the Tang Dynasty.  The poem was written prior to the latter option.  Guō Màoqiàn, a specialist in poetry and written art, compiled original material somewhere around what is now called Shāndōng… …BUT, his existence even evades evidence.  Her name isn’t always the same either – across novels and accounts, with surnames mentioned as Hua, Zhu, Wei, Ren to Han.

Most stories note Mùlán was sat at a loom (an old fashioned clothing weaving device).  She was worried.  One male from each family must be enlisted to the regional army.  Her father was vulnerable and old, her younger brother too young.  Somehow, Mùlán manages to join in their place through some old-fashioned cross-dressing.  Other stories claim that Mùlán would rather fall on her own sword than be ruled by a foreigner.  Chinese culture is deeply rooted with patriotism – and pride, and massively swayed to family loyalty.  I admire this, and many stories of Mùlán echo this sentiment.  In Disney’s film, Mulan has a dog named “Little Brother” as a nod to her younger sibling joining the army – I hear “Little Brother” means something more phallic here.  Chu Renho’s story follows this but diverts in as that Mùlán is captured by troops loyal to Dòu Jiàndé and his quest to be king.  His daughter and self-titled Princess Xianniang tried to recruit her.  On discovering she wasn’t a man, she blew a gasket of excitement.  They became the female equivalent of blood brothers – sworn sisters.

Amongst the Sui Tang Yanyi, Guō Màoqiàn and Chu Renho visions of Mùlán, there are names like Chi Fu mentioned in the story, translating into English as “to bully”.  The central theme seems to be one Confucian virtue grasped atop all others.  Bravery and loyalty sub-themes easily mask this to a degree but respect for one’s elders, ancestors and ultimately one father stand out.  Perhaps in western families with one parent families, it is not so easy to relate but here in China the story is fiercely relative [pun intended].  The big three authors’ incarnations develop an idea of mass casualties, often at the hands of Mùlán’s armies.

Chu Renho’s romantic book Sui Tang Yanyi actually kills the heroine off.  In a twist A Game of Thrones would be proud of, she commits suicide.  Mùlán’s bad luck starts with her return to her hometown.  Her father had long since died and her mother was re-wed.  The bombshell dropped that she’d have to be a concubine for Heshana Khan of the Western Khaganate.  With that she departed this life for the next, so to speak.  Other works give Mùlán a far healthier and happier sending off.  Chu Renho’s previous incarnation had portrayed Xi tūjué (Western Turkic Khaganate, one of many Turkic peoples present in China back in the Early Middle Ages) as siding with the eventual winners of the Tang Dynasty formation.  As sworn sisters their capture in place of the legging-it-for-his-own-life Dòu Jiàndé could have shocked many.  The nature of their surrender included providing their captor, Li Yuan – Emperor Gaozu of Tang, with knives.  In their mouths.  Instead the Emperor and his wife give the captured money.  Princess Xianniang can return to her beloved Luo Cheng and get hitched whilst Mùlán can go and provide for her parents.

 

In researching and reading more about Mùlán via textbooks downloaded, poems, online biographies, questioning my school’s history teachers, observing debates via Chinese language internet forums and several history documentaries obtained via shady copyright-ignorant backstreet DVD shops…. I have come to little conclusion.  Mùlán and the myths that surround her have accomplished almost as much as she originally set out to do.  Her deception and disguise has hidden the truth, so has legend.  Those who know tales of Robin Hood and the folklores around King Arthur will be fascinated forever.

Swathes of legend mask the story of Mùlán.  Whether you believe that the crown Princess Xianniang’s father was vanquished after buddying up with the enemy in the Tang dynasty leading to the proposed execution or not; or whether you believe Mùlán supported her parents; or whether the story has been lost in so many forms of translation is up to you; and did she really fight for twelve years?!  For me, every incarnation is like the next chapter in the James Bond movie franchise, our heroine grows in stature and delivers a piece of action sometimes a little far-fetched, sometimes embellished and often with an amplified degree of life.

In my opinion, I would advise you to go back to the Dr. No of Mulan.  Read the original 31 couplet poem and relish this scarce but valuable specimen of a fervently strapping woman deep from the annals of Chinese legendary literature and possibly a parody on real unconfirmed history etc.  I challenge you not to take inspiration from Mùlán, the first real embodiment of Superman.  Now we can look to the skies and think about the planet Venus, with a huge crater named after Huā Mùlán – that and behold the future live action Disney release by the same moniker; or we can nip over to the city of Xīnxiāng (Hénán) for a statue entitled Statue of Mulan.  All remains a beautifully stoic mystery that has slipped into popular culture and remains debated.

Wei Yuanfu’s, “Song of Mulan” from the 11th-12th century sums up the vagueness of the story by concentrating on the key point:

 

If in this world the hearts of officials and sons

Could display the same principled virtue as Mulan’s,

Their loyalty and filiality [NB:  the relation or attitude of a child to a parent] would be unbroken;

Their fame would last through the ages—how could it be destroyed?

 

For further reading or vieiwing:

  • Mulan: Rise of a Warrior (2009 film) – Live action film about the Chinese legend. Stars Chén ZǔMíng (Jaycee Chan, son of Jacky Chan) and Zhào Wēi (Vicki Zhao) – who holds around 12 internationally recognised Ambassadorships.

The Legend of Mu Lan:  A Heroine of Ancient China, written and illustrated by Jiang, Wei and Jiang, Cheng An.  ISBN: 1-878217-00-3. (You can even buy a boxset with a doll http://www.heroinesinhistory.com/mulan.html)

The Ballad of Mulan, retold and illustrated by Song Nan Zhang

Pan Asian Publications 1998

The Song of Mulan, Front Street Press

China’s Bravest Girl, Children’s Book Press

Fa Mulan: The Story of a Woman Warrior, Robert D. San Souci, Hyperion Books for Children 1998

The true story of Mulan.    Retrieved May 10th 2015.  (There is a good powerpoint for use in school classes too).

And if you like graphic novels, look up the surreal Deadpool Killustrated (2013), Hua Mulan joins an Avengers Assemble-style cast with Natty Bumppo, Beowulf Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson in H.G. Wells’ time machine.

Badasses of Chinese History:  General Yuè Fēi (岳飞) and four characters (utmost, loyalty, serve and nation:  精忠报国)

 

What is loyalty to you?  Following your rugby or American football team through thick and thin from birth?  Remaining in a job where you barely make ends meet, despite offers from elsewhere?  Collecting the latest batch of belly button challenge website links on your WeChat wall, regardless of the fact the challenge has become boring to most?  When I ask colleagues and friends about General Yuè Fēi, they all mention his undivided loyalty.  I guess that is why he is rumoured to have been tattooed with the phrase “serve the country with the utmost loyalty” (精忠报国 / jìn zhōng bào guó) by his mother.

The four words of Yuè Fēi’s tattoos are noted as appearing on the 1489 stele (a kind of annual rock carving on a slab) placing him in contact with the small Kaifeng Jewish community.  Many communities would encounter him through his time.  Often depicted as a poet, Yuè Fēi has no quotable poetry, according to Princeton University Prof. James T.C. Liu.  The wording on questionable poetry was almost certainly written fair later in history.  His combat inevitably led him to self-repair and a brief study of traditional Chinese medicines.  His teachings hereafter had further depth, assisting his troops on the field.  His other strengths lay in encouraging scholars to come to his troops’ camps and lecture about champions of old, heroes of the nation and deeds done in the name of good.  The double-edged sword meant the scholars would undoubtedly pass on his name and conquests.

Praying Mantis Fist (螳螂拳 / tánglángquán) or Praying Mantis Boxing is a form of aggressive combat created by The 18 Masters invited to improve Shaolin martial arts.  The style of attack is speedy and would probably leave Floyd Mayweather, Jr standing still.  There are knee, elbow and wrist and arm strikes like no other – fittingly reflecting the agility of the praying mantis insects.  Like many legends lost in translation, Yuè Fēi’s part in creating this style is hyperbole.  A historical fiction novel Water Margin (水滸傳Shui Hu Zhuan) and other texts link Yuè Fēi to the noted creators but not as the creator himself.  That said, the movement “Black Tiger Steeling” is accredited to him by the famous Mantis master Yuen Man Kai.  Yuè Fēi’s name is heavily linked to the creation of Eagle Claw (鷹爪派 / yīng zhǎo pài) and XíngYì Quán Boxing 形意拳).  The former was created for low ranking soldiers, whilst the latter became a necessary tool for his officers.

In legend and fiction Yuè Fēi is noted to have studied under Zhōu Tóng (周同) learning varied techniques of combat underscoring brutal skills like joint-locking and something called elephant style boxing (which sounds cumbersome at best).  His methods and teaching conveyed to the battle field with armies swept aside during the Jin dynasty.  His name is attached to several boxing techniques Yue Family Fist (岳家拳 / Yuejiaquan).  Whether he studied Buddhism to adapt things complexly named as the “Tendon Changing and Marrow Washing QiGong” routines into his own methods is up to the academics to debate, but one thing for sure is Yuè Fēi is deeply embedded in martial arts forming in and around his time.

Yuè Fēi’s birth is also subject to mystery and legend.  The book, History of Song (宋史; /Sòng Shǐ) details some interesting stories.  At the time of the parturition his parent’s neighbours ran over with buckets of water to douse a fire on the horizon.  There was no fire.  Péng (鹏), a mystical bird creature, landed before ascending out of sight and hence the name Fēi (飛) meaning fly was given to the new born child by his father.  Yuè Fēi’s father was advised by a local monk (reported to be the immortal Chén Tuán) to dip both mother and Yuè Fēi in a water tank should the small Yuè Fēi start crying.  After several days, baby Yuè Fēi cried.  Mother and baby went for a bath.  The bath washed away as the Yellow Rover burst its banks.  Mother and child remained safe.  Sadly, his father perished in the terrible floods.  The story goes that Yuè Fēi was in a previous life, a Péng.  On hearing of this, an enemy dragon (once blinded by the Péng that would eventually become Yuè Fēi) flooded the river as an act of revenge.  It failed.  Struggling for money, his mother did some needlework for the family housing them.  Nearby to their dwelling was a cave.  As a teenager Yuè Fēi is said to have gone into a cave, enraged a colossal snake, and as he dodged the snake’s probing strikes it vanished.  Puff.  Gone.  A magic spear of the flowering spring (沥泉神矛/ Lìquán Shénmáo) is said to have been left behind following this.  This led him to seek weaponry and combat teachings.

Zhōu Tóng is noted to have led Yuè Fēi to a Buddhist recluse who passed down the skills of his combats.  Around this time teachings by the master archer Zhōu Tóng led to great skills with the bow and arrow, military tactics and spear work.  Skirmishing with hand skills and horse-riding likely came about too.  Yuè Fēi’s alleged inner strengths came from his wisdom of Buddhism.  Zhōu Tóng was his Jedi Master prodigy.  Yuè Fēi seemed to soak up skills and knowledge.  In Hellmut Wilhelm’s From Myth to Myth: The Case of Yueh Fei’s Biography Yuè Fēi is reputed to have sought replication of famous national heroes and had been influenced by reading works by Zuo Zhuan, Wu Qi and Sun Tzu.  His father Yuè He (岳和) had implanted such material on his son.  Did he simply want to mimic those he saw as his supermen?  In reading some of the accounts of Yuè Fēi, there is touch of melodrama, good versus evil and a story that could easily form the plot of a new trilogy of Star Wars movies.  There is love, hate, fights for freedom and war.

The Biography of Yue Fei and the records of E Wang Shi mention Yuè Fēi’s learning from Zhōu Tóng at an early age.  They also mention another mentor, the spear master, Chen Guang (陳廣) who was hired as a kind of Jedi Master Yoda to oversee his stick fighting skills by Yuè Fēi’s grandfather Yao Daweng (姚大翁).  This was a boy conditioned for battle.

War.  What is it good for?  Absolutely everything in a time of conflict and invasion.  From his home in Tangyin County, Henan province, Yuè Fēi was recruited by the Song military in 1122 recruited Yuè Fēi.  In 1126, his squad supressed waves of warlord rebellions in northern China.  This took away much resource from the battles against the Jin.  As the defence of Kaifeng fell, his next movement was to an army in Jiankang.  His rise was spotted as they defended the Yangtze from the invasive Jurchens.  The Song court promoted him to General in the year 1133.  His counterattack against the Jin-backed puppet state of Qi led to many regained territories.  His and other Generals’ armies beat off the invasion allowing for the continuing Song dynasty.  After defeating enemy upon enemy, and against the flow of traffic, he was called back to the Southern Song capital by the Emperor in the year 1141.  Having once defeated 100,000 invaders with only 500 men, for some reason, lost to shelves of history, he was hanged.  Falsified charges by Emperor Gaozong’s servant Qin Hui at fear of exiled Emperor Qinzong’s return no doubt playing a part.  He died aged 39 years old.

In the biography of Yuè Fēi (鄂國金佗稡编/Eguo Jintuo Zubian) written by his grandson Yue Ke (岳珂) there are several approaches that Yuè Fēi utilised efficiently to position his armies. Yuè Fēi rewarded his soldiers well and delivered punishments just as equally.  Discipline was tantamount to forming his armies.  There was to be no pillaging or destruction.  Theft was punishable by execution.  Handing out his own personal effects or threatening to execute his own bloodline for failure was not beneath him.  Clear orders were given and to be taken without a fiasco.  Training was key, and when not in battle, rigorous training and fitness regimes were met.  One day swimming through muck, the next clambering up stones and walls.  When on leave the soldiers trained because they knew how hard they would be put to a task on camp or in a battle.  The usual weaponry and movements were worked on also, but always as close to the real thing as possible.   Yuè Fēi could have started his own Marine Corp or S.A.S.  He would handpick soldiers, even sending home the unfit or elderly.  Inheriting the Han Ching and Wu Xu armies, he sent more than half packing.  For those that remained, he tried to treat them equally sharing wine, even if watered down amongst every soldier – and taking shelter only when his troops all had shelter.

After his death, former soldiers and officers spread his techniques across China, and even back to Shaolin where Li Quan (麗泉) invented Northern Ying Jow Pai boxing – something combined with Yuè Fēi’s previously formed Rotating Fist fighting style (翻子拳 / Fānziquán).  Regarded as a folk hero for defending his country from a northern invasion despite wishing to look after his elderly mother.  Yuè Fēi’s mother’s wish for him to serve his country unbrokenly led to an uncontested unbeaten run in battles.  A poem, The River Turns Red reports:  “I’ll drive a war chariot and smash apart the Helan mountain pass!”  The poem further goes on to show his strength, devotion and care for those who served under him.

After his execution, the legend of Yuè Fēi grew and remains popular amongst storytellers.  Like the legend of Mulan and Zhuge Liang, within Chinese history, mythology and fact can be exaggerated or rewritten.  Yuè Fēi’s history and myths are equally as fascinating and certainly noteworthy of more cultural reading.   He is often wrongly depicted as the individual General who defeated the Juchins; someone fluent in Classical Chinese studies and a knowledgeable Confucian academic – again all likely to be balderdash.  His Grandson, Yue Ke, released a biography, which helped to fan the flames of amplification.  Still, it isn’t a bad way to get temples and shrines devoted to you; like the P.R. powers behind Tom Sawyer or Keyser Söze.

 

For further reading or vieiwing:

 

Enter the dragon’s head

 

Let’s start at the beginning, where all good and bad tales always initiate.  In this case, Thanksgiving Day 2015.  “Hey John, can you go and teach about Thanksgiving Day in an hour?”, my Head of Foreign Languages (just, English, in this case) asked me.  I responded that I know zippity-doo-dah (naff all, nowt, nothing) about said event.  I must confess to making up everything that day (hopscotch is a traditional Thanksgiving game, correct?).  Anyway, that day I met Mr Wong in the Qiáotóu village primary school [their song is called “Dragon Boat Emotion”] and since then we have been friends.

The happening takes place on the lunar calendar date 5th of the 5th month (or Gregorian date 20th June 2015), it popped around after a long day watching dragon boat races in Wàngniúdūn (望牛墩), Zhōngtáng (中堂) and Daojiao (道滘) I went to meet Mr Wong to watch a different kind of race in Qiáotóu (the village in Houjie and not the district in north-eastern Dongguan).  I was shattered but I was curious.  What was going to happen next?  I met Mr Wong in Qiáotóu military barracks, I mean Qiáotóu square.  Centrally stacked was enough ordnances to power the Chinese space programme to save Matt Damon.  Tables stood, village officials and government-looking folk lingered around.  Policeman uncoiled large red wheels of bangers and volunteers edged outwards setting a large viewing area.  Mr Wong called me just as an eruption of firecrackers hit by ear like an angry Muhammed Ali squatting a mosquito.  Through odd breaks in the sounds I was being invited to “come join my team!”  So, I did just that…

Mr Wong’s four-wheel drive vehicle bounced along the narrow streets of Qiáotóu as if we were being pursued by a Tyrannosaurus Rex.  The journey started at Qiáotóu square and ending deep in a chasm of villages that make up Qiáotóucun.  The local buildings excluded modernisation and seemed to be constructed of less plastic and concrete.  Warmth, tradition and air of care clung on like the windows in the walls.  Electrical cables formed no order, strung from building to sorry looking building.  Bricks replaced concrete and rubble replaced tarmac.  The earth infrequently offered green chutes within this area.

Here I was to join a dragon boat race of sorts.  Water not included.  Well, just drinking bottles.  Mr Wong said foreigners never enter this village, and have never had reason to – there are no multinational production companies.  I was greeted extremely warmly and asked to join the red team.  Being a Manchester City F.C. fan, I did not like that idea.  However, I was a guest welcomed to unknown traditional activity.  Whatever it was, I wanted to know about it.  Sacrifices had to be made.  I donned a red t-shirt (I had my purple Manchester City shirt underneath to prevent red t-shirt to skin contact).  It seemed they had planned my visit, the only XXXXL shirt was for me.

 

In 2016, I was invited back by Mr Wong and his friend Mr Marco Chen.  Not to be confused with the Dongguan township of Qiáotóu (桥头镇), Qiáotóu (桥头) is located in southern Houjie town, east of Fengshan park (凤山公园) and south of Houjie’s Line 2 subway station, Shanmei (珊美).  To the south of Qiáotóu is the Exhibition Centre (展览中心) Line 2 subway station.  Qiáotóucun (桥头村) is actually a village made up of seven hamlets.

The procession historically began and concluded at the village Ancestral Temple or Cítáng (池塘).  In the present day, they commence at various Cítángs finding their finale at the village square.  The view from the biggest Cítáng in Qiáotóu stands over the fish pond (池塘/Chítáng, sounds like Cítáng).  At the Cítáng, villagers gather and make important decisions.  Important blessings and ceremonies are held here.  Events gather and ancestral heritage is preserved here.

The tradition, at first, I was told, by one villager, “dated back around six generations and was brought about due to the drying up of several village creaks and two men who raced, carrying large dragon boats, down a village street.”  This stimulated my inquisitiveness much more.  Soon enough, I had a rounder story.

The most consistent account told from generation to generation is one of a severe drought.  Mr Marco Chen, an intellectual-looking chap told me, “The reservoirs and creaks dried up.  For a long time, no rain came.  People prayed and pleaded for rain.  The villagers held an event to show god how genuine their need for water was.  In desperation they displayed a wooden dragon’s head, of a very dry nature, to symbolise luck and best wishes.  Their unadulterated and sincere plea was answered.  A great rain came and the villagers felt blessed and touched deep down.  Every year that followed, the villagers repeated this as a thank you to god.”

The dragon’s head sounds like a name of a public house back home.  In actual fact there is far more at play here, there is a sacred bond between village of Qiáotóu and their dragons’ heads (there are more than one now).  It symbolises happiness, good luck, and good fortune.  There is a belief if you carry it, you shall be blessed with a baby boy [I had noticed many dragon’s head carriers have their young daughters alongside them].  Each hamlet of Qiáotóu has a dragon’s head, a flag and colours.  A privileged few have held the dragon’s heads, bringing belief confidence and many baby boys to those who have held it proudly up high.

At first it was villagers who joined this occasion, then their extended family, and long after friends of their family, until now where far more people connect.  They link into this most historic and unique South China tradition, that is still little known outside of Houjie.  Marco tells me, “A day before, twigs are gathered.  New members are encouraged to join in preparations.  In older times the eucalyptus plant was favoured but now is found to be less abundant.  There are the usual dragon boat festival foods, like Zongzi.  On the night before the event, local children take a bath with goose eggs.  The eggs are put in a net, which is placed into the bath.  This symbolises the hope of children growing up very quickly.”

My team, one of seven in Qiáotóu, was approximately 2500-strong, from toddlers to the very much elderly.  Here everyone was given either a branch (to beat the clouds away from the dragons), a flag (the red or yellow colours of the village), a drum (noises to replicate the racing beats), or replica dragon boats (finely carved but festooned with neon lights).  The team was led by a man holding a wooden dragon’s head.  I was an amateur and newcomer.  I was given a branch.  A small branch at that.  A really small branch.  It was a twig.

We soon set off, joining the red tribe.  There were yellow, blue, green, orange, black and gold tribes around the large village streets.  The object was to snake around the village.  On meeting the other tribes, firecrackers were thrown at their feet to signify the battle of the racing boats.  The team that did not dance well with those who carried the dragon heads and small boat effigies performing their moves, decided without hesitation by the opposing teams, had to turn around and snake another route.  The village’s most-eldest people watched on from doorways and seats around the area.  As a westerner, I knew I would stand out.  I was greeted with curiosity and welcomed by all.

This event happens annually but only for a few hours.  The first time I joined, I felt wave after wave of euphoria and privilege to have been invited to such a matchless and rare occurrence.  Again, at my second coming, I feel fully euphoric.  Through working for Worlda Guangzhou, I was posted to Dao Ming Foreign Language School, who sent me on a Thanksgiving Day task to Qiáotóu’s state school, where I met Mr Wong, who has friends involved in this annual event.  A set of links so finite that led to me experiencing something so exceptional and spell-bounding.  I felt joy, like never experienced for many years before, like a kid at Christmas, unwrapping a present, not suspecting that his parents have worked exceedingly hard to buy them that Lego set the kid dreamed he would never ever reach.  I was that kid once, thanks to my mum, I had that gift – and through her (and Dad’s) gift of life to me, I experienced that moment.  The moment has gone, but every now and then life throws something beautiful my way, this was that twinkling ticking trice.

Over the years, tribalism has rocketed, exploding with each clan being rewarded at the central square for their final dance.  The central Qiáotóu Square is where the judges convene and do their best Simon Cowell impressions.  The team of kinfolk from Qiáotóu that wins, receives honours and a prize for their ‘hood of Qiáotóu village.  On asking Edison to translate my questions to many locals, it became apparent that this is a totally unique form of this festival nationally.  This time around, I was interviewed for local television, asking my opinion on this unique and vibrant exclusive custom.  A rainbow with sounds, drums, whistles and firecrackers.  Friendly faces welcome me continuously a team clad in red and yellow invite me to lift the dragon’s head.  I lift it.  I will probably have a baby boy [pending ongoing logistical problems].

With backing of the government to this ritual and protection from commercialisation, outside exposure allows gentle promotion of this intangible local heritage and culture.  Fireworks and firecrackers are allowed by special permission of the government.  The powers that be strictly observe the position and routes of said fireworks ensuring all around are safe and buildings are not put at risk.  The villagers are extra careful in protecting their culture and edifices.

Mr Marco Chen highlights, “The current dragon boat traditions of Qiáotóu encourage team building and bonding.  We ensure as a team, we visit every other team’s Cítáng (池塘) to show communication of the villages and brotherhood.  Togetherness in our villages is most important.  It is a quality we want each new generation to carry forward.  We retain old world values and traditions whilst now including entertainment.  There are prizes for winning team displays and happiness is shared with family and friends.  There are skills used and learnt, tradition, generations together and positive attitudes throughout.  This teamwork is most important to Qiáotóu, and now beyond.”

 

To see the event, or to explore Qiáotóu, locate the many Ancestral Temples (Cítáng/池塘) and head around towards Qiáotóu square (alongside Guantai Lu) from 8pm to 10pm on the 5th evening of the 5th lunar month [9/6/2016; 30/5/2017; 18/6/2018].

 

Further reading:  Title: Drought Longxiang; ISBN-13: 9787536049475; ISBN-10: 7536049471; Author: BEN SHE YI MING; Binding: Paperback; Publisher: Flower City out; Published: December 1991; Price: 56RMB; Synopsis: An introduction to the festival.

 

The Case Against Qi Xi Festival

China has a rise on love dates in its ever-growing and evolving love culture, but is it all codswallop?

 

The letter l resembles the number one, and o as zero, v could be seen as the roman numeral V and e as a letter nowadays akin to electronics. Ladies and jelly spoons, I give you the October the 5th, love your electronics day. That is how some of the logic behind dates, that loosely resemble Valentine’s Day, appear to me.

I have no gripes with truly traditional dates, but it seems here the overlords of capitalism have stepped in and labelled everything according to the monthly sale of choice. The mythology behind QiXi (七夕節) and its older than 2600-year old history is interesting and worthy of a read. Sadly, an evening of sevens is like every other Valentine’s day, a chance to promote discount red panties and half-priced popcorn at the cinema.

What astounds and boggles the mind is the pick and mix of dates on offer to show your love (whether you are an abusive lover or a gentle giant). 20th and 2st of May, a is full of phonetics [“I (5) love (2) you (0/1)”]. Unlike QiXi, this date will never make National Intangible Cultural Heritage status. Regular February the 14th rears its head with standard décor and sales galore. 11/11 is a sacred date in the U.K., tied to remembrance days and mourning. Here all those ones mean single. Similarly, it could also be a digital on switch day. Lantern festival (元宵节) once carried a similar weight in ancient times for headhunting new love. Now there is a sale of lovely items tied in for fans of fanciful fondness. There seems to be a romantic date every week.

Many shops fill with bouquets of flowers, purple teddy bear crazes, tedious looking poetry pieces, chocolates (usually of bitter taste), and gifts of fancy that look at home in a very much discounted discount store. Call me the Scrooge of lust and adoration, but some tacky items are so bad, I question who came up with such ideas. It is the same for almost every occasion and often something straddles Hallowe’en, Easter and Christmas just because it has different shades of glitter.

It is great to see a happy couple minding their own business and enjoying life. Unless, they wear matching t-shirts, adorn themselves in signage to declare their commitment, or post WeChat posts of every moment they shared together (with the world), or get snagged in by supposed romantic restaurant specials. Stay at home, cook something amazing and keep it to yourselves. It isn’t a pissing competition. Tell commercialism, materialism, and face to have a day off. In the days leading up to these sort of dates, expect prices to double, treble and add on some more. Your money is wanted. Your love is the weapon for the faceless businesses. If it happens to be a case of the more expensive the gift, you give results in a feeling of the more you love him/her/it [modern world, folks] then maybe you should be investing in yellow roses, umbrellas and shoes [Symbols of a break up].

Jewel prices will rocket, fruit will be carved into heart shapes, perfumes may appear to be everywhere, and cheap looking teddy bears will breed out of hand. Resist the dark side. There may even be an imbalance of giving but not receiving, maybe that is normal, I wouldn’t know – as I avoid giving gifts on commercialised festivals.

I am off to collect WeChat numbers off rotten oranges I’ve spotted in the River Dongjiang. If you truly care about the one love in your eyes, do something from the heart on any day of the year, preferably one that doesn’t phonetically sound like the word love being whistled by a songbird perched on a daisy overlooking fern gully. Be natural. Don’t be dictated to by the shops and restaurants. Enjoy the 5th of October.

 

In Brief – Q M J

What is Qing Ming Jie? Well, firstly, it is known by many names. Qingming Jie (清明节) is most common in the English tongue. It is often referred to as Tomb Sweeping Day (扫坟节) and sometimes known as Ching Ming Festival (清明節). Some refer to it as Ancestors Day. It commemorates the onset of spring as well as one to remember forefathers. It is a date for clearness and brightness (清明节means ‘clear and bright’). Think Mexico’s Día de Muertos (Day of The Dead), Ghost Festival (Malaysia etc) and Bon Festival (Japan), Samhainn (Scotland/Ireland), or Totensonntag.

When will Tomb Sweeping Day be? It falls on Tuesday 4th of April in 2017, 2020 and 2021, and the 5th of April in 2018 and 2019. It follows the solar equinox of Spring. It is either on the dates of the 4th, 5th or 6th of April. However, across China it can differ. In Hebei, it may start a week earlier, and in Guangdong the sweeping of tombs is on the eve of the day itself.

Why is it important? This is a chance to remember past ancestors.

What happens? Relatives clean and sweep graves. Ancestors are worshiped. There is often an offering of food to the deceased. Expect to see the burning of joss paper (zhǐqián金纸). Qīngtuán(青团) is often eaten. It is a green dumpling, made of barley grasses (Hordeum murinum), mugwort (Artemisia argyi or Artemisia verlotiorum species). It is quite glutinous. Prayers are cast and flowers often given to the buried or cremated. Revolutionary martyrs are celebrated.

When did it holiday begin? It officially became a public holiday as recent as 2008. However, the origin of the festival spans as far back as 636BC. Emperor Ming of Tang (武隆基) stopped the elite from their regular homages to ancestors and decided one day a year was enough. He decided that the Cold Food Festival – Hanshi (寒食节) was a good time. Visiting old tombs, cock-fighting, swinging on children’s swings, the freshening of blankets and tugs of war filled a vibrant celebration of fallen lineages.

Is it a sad day? Yes, and no. Losing a loved one is always sad. It is also a chance to celebrate the love of life. Happiness and solemnness sit together.

Can you join in? You don’t need to kneel at a graveside prostrating to the lost. You don’t even need to offer food or wine by way of sacrifice. Whilst some offer mobile phones, you can even hire someone to go pay tribute for you. You can fly kites, celebrate the arrival of spring, and take a spring outing. This dates as far back as the Tang Dynasty. Or, you could even plant a willow tree. Some people even tell ghost stories… Hiking is also a popular pursuit.

Cup of tea? It is likely an expensive tea you are enjoying might be a prestigious ‘Pre-Qing Ming’ (清明前). After Qing Ming Jie tea is cheaper, I guess.

Key words for your Chinese:

清明节 (qīng-míng jié) Qingming Festival

扫墓 (sǎo mǜ) sweep tombs

祭祖 (jì zǔ) worship (sacrifice to) ancestors

纸钱 (zhǐ qián) joss paper: paper made to resemble money and burned as an offering to the dead

烧香 (shāo xiāng) burn joss sticks (incense)

Why did I want to write about this festival? Life is wonderful and remembering those no longer with us is part of life. Today is tomorrow’s yesterday. Today is the right time to remember the luck and fortune that has brought us to this moment. If things have been hard along the way, so be it. Just keep moving forward. But, never forget the past.

 

杜牧/Dù Mù’s poem “qīng míng”:

 

清明时节雨纷纷

qīng míng shí jié yǔ fēn fēn

A drizzling rain falls on the Mourning Day;

 

路上行人欲断魂

lù shàng xíng rén yù duàn hún

The mourner’s heart is breaking on his way.

 

借问酒家何处有

jiè wèn jiǔ jiā hé chù yǒu

Inquiring, where can a wineshop be found?

 

牧童遥指杏花村

mù tóng yáo zhǐ xìng huā cūn

A cowherd points to Apricot Flower Village in the distance.

 

Further information: Wikipedia’s guide to Qing Ming Festival.

Myths and legends of Chinese Tomb Sweeping Day via ancient-origins.net.

Travel China explains Qingming Festival.

Qing Ming according to Malaysian Digest.

Cinema Survival in China

oyster28catcher (JRA)

RECOVERED FROM THE DEMISE OF HUBHAO.COM

(as true today as at the time of writing in April 2015; I watched Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, to the added soundtrack of snoring for 2 hours!!!)

The cinema, 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 is a guide to go in prepared and come out leaving no man behind.

  1. Some theatres sit on shopping mall roofs, others are slap-dashed onto the side of the road. Knowing the location and layout is important.  Research the journey time from the complex entrance to screen time.  Once in the scramble for seats can resemble something like Raiders of The Lost Ark.  Most times I have been to the cinema the screen has opened only ten to fifteen minutes like back home.  The difference here is that people arrive pretty much at kick off and five to ten minutes into tonight’s feature presentation.  Here a standard tut would suffice in the U.K.  Find something to bite your teeth into.  I go all-Jaws and choose the odd spectator who bugs me the most.
  2. Regarding queues, sometimes the lines (a loose definition at best) can resemble a snake (on a plane?). That is if the snake has been ran over several times by a large Monster Truck.  Ticket booths connected to numerous websites and social platforms are on the rise – thankfully.  With respect to prices, a 3D movie including recyclable glasses costs 35RMB at Xingx International Cinema, or 25RMB for a regular movie.  You must join the free VIP schemes starting from an investment of 500RMB (all this money can be used on snacks and tickets).  Just be prepared to scramble rather than queue.  Add extra padding to the elbows and stand tall for extra swipe – or study under the guidance of Bruce Lee’s gym.  Be ready.
  3. Vending points and snacks make up a good element of the cinema going experience. In China Pick ‘n’ Mix is replaced largely by a lack of choice.  Considering outside beyond the entrance to the flicks, snacks are commonplace, inside the demesne of the cinema, snacks can be limited to slightly sweet popcorn and one flavour of QQ candy gums.  The dispenser or a red and white labelled effervescent drink looks worn and is in actuality out of order.  Verity be that water is for sale here.  Salty popcorn is a rarity.
  4. Trailers often hype up the movies massively back home in the U.K. I think almost every film I have watched has been based on seeing a trailer in the movie houses.  com is your friend now.  Oddly no promos or commercials for unrelated products preluded the movie.  If you want an advertisement fix, you need to head to any major shopping mall and take a wander.  Your senses will be bombarded and you may suffer Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in response.  All because the cinema didn’t play the latest Calvin Whatever’s underwear advertisement.
  5. The lack of pre-movie trailers meant that a screen full of rules didn’t slam on the screen in your face. There was no warning.  Copyright warnings didn’t follow.  Pearl and Dean have no place here.  Amazingly, some cinema tickets display a rule about bringing Durian into the screen – and strictly no animals.  If you want a helping of rules then simply exit China for Germany, where there are too many rules in comparison.  The cost may be substantial.
  6. In the U.K. the soft rustle of popcorn packets and crunches of nachos can bet met with a stern “shhhh” or “hush.” Here in China the noises can be very loud.  Phonecalls can be pretty normal.  A phrase such as “ānjìng” may ruffle a few feathers, “Xiǎoshēng yīdiǎn” is literally quieter please and “Bì zuǐ!” is shut up – and much less polite.  These are also useful for teaching, which is just as well, because you’ll be teaching more than one cinema-goer.  I opt for the, “Néng bù néng ānjìng yīdiǎn?”  Quiet down a little.  Just don’t be a party spoiler and expect every noise – or cheers of excitement to dampen down.  Part of the experience is seeing people excited by what they are seeing in two or three dimensions.  Oh, and then there’s often a crèche of children playing at the front of the screen with the soft furnishings as behind them Christopher Waltz and co spook their menacing presence on screen with wraith.
  7. Phones are a bugbear of many a person. The piercing shrill of Nokia haunts me.  At the cinema, I recommend you place some earplugs in and just try to imagine the dialogue.  Otherwise, this is something you’ll have to get used to.  Adapt, make a long distance call, wake someone up.  Let them share your disgust at people making and taking calls in the cinema.  Join the dark side.
  8. Don’t expect to see anyone in the nip. High skirts are the norm for fashion here.  Some scenes face the chop faster than you can say, “Don’t feed them after midnight.”  Nudity and low dress cleavages are censored on television for popular shows like British yawn inducing Downton Abbey – so Tom Cruise and co won’t make out on the silver screen.  Overly sexualised films like Fast & the Furious 24 will always sneak by.  If you’re missing the nudity and beyond romance scenes, try recreating said scenes by doodling the scenes like Jack did in the epic don’t-go-by-ship yarn Titanic.
  9. Taking a large cut out of a mobile phone form, a bottle profile or the silhouette of the latest techno advance isn’t a bad idea.  Chinese releases of western movies often have added product placement.  Whilst you get more movie, you get pushed to buy the latest deoxygenised mineral waters.
  10. The latest Hollywood blockbuster might not be tailored for the Chinese. The sense of humour gap and subtitles (Lost in Translation?) can decrease a movie or even an entire genre demand. Whilst you may think Star Wars is great, spectators from more remote regions – and culturally different folk – far, far away may not.  Sometimes a movie can be released and cancelled in the same week or slated on the first day.  Time is money.  Act fast.  Get there, see it – or await the DVD release (downloads are now available to the more tech savoir-faire).

For further reading:

The History of Cinema in China – Retrieved from Wikipedia, 2015/04/21.

Lesson plan guidance – Retrieved 2015/04/19.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/film/film-news/10041924/Chinas-Iron-Man-3-milks-its-product-placement.html – Retrieved 2015/04/19.

Teaching with Chopsticks CONTINUED

oyster28catcher (JRA)1 Comment

RECOVERED FROM THE DEMISE OF HUBHAO.COM

Some things are essential to leaving the classroom, feeling not only like you did a good job but that you made a difference is key for me.  You have to be a realist and know that best laid plans will come unstuck every now and then.  To be prepared is to be ready, and ready for action you must be.

In full focus.  Some days are hot, some days are stickier than a bun factory’s spillage of extra-gummy jam, some days it don’t come easy… some days it doesn’t come at all.  Meat Loaf lyrics aside, you need focus.  Buckets of concentration melted together with motivation to perform.  You cannot walk into any class half-heartedly.  Finding the on switch is relatively easy.  A smile, a blast of some good music, a stroll around the school grounds, anything to clear you mind and feel fresh.  In the domain of teaching, insufficient time is afforded to that best buddy of the educator:  relaxation.  Daydreaming and doodling have been linked with high intelligence levels and creativity.  I like to think all my best ideas have stemmed from drawing fictitious maps and brainstorms resembling that of a biro-inscribed cyclone.  Move around the classroom, get many eyes following you!

Made from concentrate.  I hate being ignored.  I detest it when I lose one or two students to boredom, tiredness or the pressures of stacked homework lay before them.  I despise concentration being sapped by distractions.  That said, I can understand.  Empathy and sympathy are your allies.  Your movements and actions will deliver your crowd.  Think slapstick or stand-up comedy over standing up straight.

Realistic goals.  This goes for both students and teachers, because ultimately why aim to high and totally miss your targets?  The level of English in various schools or even within one grade can differ drastically.  You can’t leave behind any stragglers and similarly you cannot abandon the child geniuses.  The fine balance between testing and arduous should sit just above competence and challenging.  With experience you can find that titrated line.  If 80% of the class is at a level higher than the balance, you can over one semester encourage the inexperienced students onwards with more one-on-one assistance and praise.  Their confidence might just need your backing and reassurance.

Lesson planning.  I love to do something.  I hate to plan.  That said, a great plan gives fantastic guidance and helps you avoid stumbling into a ravine without a paddle for the creek below.  Finding a lesson plan is easy.  Then it must be tailored.  The end product needs to suit you, and you alone.  For my lesson plans I slice them into ten key components.  (1)  Do you have a clear and outlined method?  (2)  The lesson should be segmented into presentation, practice and production areas.  (3)  How big will activities be?  Teamwork versus pair work or smaller groups of four?  (4) Push for student talking time, over teacher talking time – where oral English is key.  (5)  Plainly outline the target phraseology and vocabulary.  Avoid clutter.  (6)  Handouts, activities and supporting materials need to be noted clearly.  (7)  Is an example of board work necessary?  (8)  Minimise non-essential skills such as reading or writing when pushing for oral English practice.  (9)  Ensure the students practice what you have taught them and define how you can check this.  (10)  Ensure the task pours, surges and flows as required by bringing the matter to life with a great review…

Reviews.  Perhaps, the only way you’ll ever develop as a teacher is by assessing the level of response from students in a review.  If the games or activities are dull, a poker-face laden class will stare emptily until the class bell.  If the final undertaking is too difficult, confusion and ignorance will call by for a bite to eat:  you’re on the menu!  Engaging review games can catch attention.  They will reveal how much has been learnt or bolstered.  Using characters from popular culture like those of Super Mario Brothers, the latest boybands, or famous sport stars will engage your crowd.  If it is obscure, you’ll lose the crowd.  That said, a personal touch reflecting you and your life can fascinate the gazing eyes.  Add life, add personality and add some spirit.  I have a class that have nicknamed me Tofu.  Since then an entire Powerpoint presentation was based around a dialogue revolving around the food, a fictional superhero called Fantastic Tofu and the new game Super Tofu Brothers.  If a particular class embraces something, you can play off it – it may be tedious to you, but dive in with full passion and join me in a method I like to call Teaching with Tofu!

And with those words of wisdom, I end on a quote by The Hold Steady, “We gotta stay positive”.

For further reading:

Lesson plan maker – Retrieved 2015/04/19.

Lesson plan guidance – Retrieved 2015/04/19.

RECOVERED FROM THE DEMISE OF HUBHAO.COM

Introductions are meant to be swift and to the point.  That’s my introduction over with.

Try to know your students and their knowledge.  In a more technical way I could call this heading, “Acquire relevant knowledge about students”.  Students will have their own cultural and generational backgrounds.  They will have been influenced by their parenting; their friendships; mass media and so on and so on… If you mention Japan in many classes, some closed responses shall follow, but increasingly you may find good arguments or great positivity to Japanese culture.  The beauty of using a controversial or current affairs topic is that it can help develop descriptive terminology.  Similarly, a student with a history of poor discipline can be enticed by different approaches.  What they have learned, whether correct or totally erroneous can shape how they learn new topics.  There isn’t a simple way to note how much every student or a group of students know, but having an idea is a fine way to start your preparations!  Your course design for pacing, examples and format – even the objective depends entirely on knowing your students and their ability.  With this you can flush away misconceptions and draw up clear guidance routes.

 

Teamwork.  Let’s be fair, teamwork is something we all love when it goes well.  When it doesn’t it is hard, but then you find how to develop the strengths within the ranks of a team.  Weaknesses become stronger through assistance and collaboration.  All major road cycling races have a winner, but the team that gets the winner there, does most of the work.  Be they mechanics, support staff or the cycling squad.  In a team, all are accountable.  Responsibility and pride force the hand of those trying to shirk away.  The teamwork is far more social and can heighten understanding.  Essentially students have a jigsaw and through their own methods, they can assist each other.  I’m a massive believer in questions and answers.  For every question a student asks you, try to reply clearly – before launching your own questions.  The beauty of the modern world is you’re never more than one metre from a gameshow.  Turn “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?” into a classroom activity.

 

Varied learning techniques.  Variety is the spice of life.  Fact.  Monotony creates boredom.  Monotony creates boredom.  If students are forced to sit and listen, expect a disaster of biblical proportions.  What I mean is Old Testament, real wrath of God type stuff.  Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling!  Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together… mass hysteria!  The students must talk.  Through talking they can connect.  They can apply the words by relating it to their experience.  Their learning will become their life and through each oral English lesson they will gain further invaluable experience.  I often devise undertakings to promote the key language skills in naturalised forms, e.g. if we’re discussing transport, why not perform a role-play based on travelling to the Sudirman Cup final (or something topical).

 

Timekeeping skills.  Class begins at 11am.  You have 40 minutes.  Remember to segment the class structure.  Tailor all to the students’ needs.  From experience energy will be highest early on.  Throw in a warm up activity then go straight into an introduction.  Now stop and review.  Slide in some more content, stop, practice and deliver.   Time for a final review?  Class is over.  Be realistic with timeframes.  Nothing great comes from too much review time, and likewise, nothing fantastic can emerge from too much introductory timing.  Only yawns.  Use timers on Powerpoint presentations, stopwatches, clocks and set clear limits for tasks.

 

Excellent!  Well done!  I recommend that you do your homework before the students even receive any homework from you.  Grab yourself a thesaurus.  Try to introduce new vocabulary, be it single words like fantastic or tremendous – or simple sentences of praise and encouragement.  “Try harder next time” can flip to “An admirable effort, but I know you can do better.”  Whether the work or task was first-rate, outstanding, exceptional, superb or poor, words are powerful tools to motivate and provide curiosity.  The students mind may ignore the praise, they may investigate it further, or they may learn an expression and fire it off at peers in the future.  That seed can fast become a network of positivity branching out in the tree of life.  Feedback should be seen as a chance to reflect on what you have asked – and not a motivator for incorrect learning.  Wisely must the force you use be.  Liam, a teacher, I know uses fist bumps, high fives and many other praising moves learnt from the ghettos of Weymouth (U.K.).  Try to vary your praising methods.  Introduce more internationally noted cultural nods of approval.

RECOVERED FROM THE DEMISE OF HUBHAO.COM

Teachers are hugely important in a community.  Education and development of youth pushes the next generation onwards.  During these impressionable years children will be imparted with facts, figures and fart jokes.  These will stay with them forever.  With their new knowledge the student can go on and be responsible, productive and a valuable member of society.  And they’ll probably still tell fart jokes.

 

Diversify.  Theory and practice are two different things.  Flitting between each method is a good way to engage all.  In the novel Jurassic Park, penned by Michael Crichton, a character Dr. Grant talks about two kinds of people, “There are those that want to be astronomers, and those that want to be astronauts.”  The former studies from a point of absolute safety, the other is more like the explorer.  To make a class as hands-on as possible, sometimes lessons need to be outside the box.  For beyond the territories of old-fashioned teaching gives students ways to learn and develop their talents in ways more fitting to showing it off.  Varying assignments, exercises and even the location of teaching can certainly arouse the senses.

 

Build rapport.  So many times I have seen new teachers come and expect instant enthusiasm.  It is insulting to think you’ll be respected and learnt from within the first few classes.  There will always be curiosity but once that wanes, what remains?  Beyond the classroom, keep your office door open; tell students they are welcome to talk more outside of classes; join in with activities beyond your paid time; help the quieter students feel included; take on the tough kids and distractors, find out more about them; and always be approachable.  Wear a smile.  Be professional.  If it is for a moment raining in your heart, bring sunshine to those indoors.  Students will embrace you not just as a teacher, but someone to look up to and learn from as a community member.  Teaching isn’t about being a friend or popular, it is about commanding a respect to encourage your students to learn.

 

Aim higher than the stars.  Previously I penned the importance of realistic goals.  That’s for the students.  For you, as a teacher, should be looking at something far greater: the unreachable wall of perfection.  Don’t just copy and paste last year’s work.  Think how it can be improved.  Is there a different method of review you can use?  Could I modernise or make the images more relevant to the student audience?  How can I encourage more oral English opportunities?  Your expectations can always be heightened.  To quote Nelson Mandela, “after climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb.”  Do this, and you’ll feel more satisfied.  Depend on older material and you’ll soon become fatigued.

 

There is no Plan B?  Of course there is a plan B.  I personally opt for plans C, D, E and F.  We’re in a subtropical region, with high humidity and build ups of saline detritus on projectors or even power-cuts may ruin a well-prepared powerpoint.  What’s more is that the humidity has rendered a box of chalk into a useless pulp of mush.  The dry wipe white board is not to be used as a previous teacher used a permanent marker and the word comparative has remained on that board for two years.  Unlike the other classrooms the board isn’t magnetised and sticky backed plastic can’t be utilised due to an invasive mouse population in your stationery draw.  Your computer has gave up the ghost too.  Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.  Games and flashcards sat in folders, pre-printed materials, pairwork activities, turning the classroom into an arena… every possibility; nothing’s left to chance.  Think on your toes.

 

Clear boundaries.  If there are two pathways, one is shorter than the other and involves little effort.  You’ll feel happy but relaxed afterwards.  The other pathway is steep, challenging and you will learn as much about yourself as the matter.  You will feel like you have worked hard on this latter path.  Which pathway do you take?  You must articulate to your students, what is acceptable in the learning process.  Recently in Wuhan, drones were used to curb cheating for the National College Entrance Exam.  Of course you want collaboration in teamwork, but in testing an individual, you need their purest response.  You don’t want answers from Professor Google and Dr. Baidu.  I’ve seen hand-written answers copied from Wikipedia complete with coloured hyperlinks and lines beneath them.  Even the red spellchecker error lines appeared.  I tend to highlight my rules early on, and address any breaches as and when with a three strikes and you’re out warning.  Plagiarism and replication of other student’s complete work can turn into a detective job at times.

 

 

 

For further reading:

“Implementing the Seven Principles: Technology as Lever” by Chickering and Ehrmann – Retrieved 2015/06/15.

“Clear Learning Objectives” – Retrieved 2015/06/15.

RECOVERED FROM THE DEMISE OF HUBHAO.COM

Making money.  I dislike money, I never seem to have enough or more appropriately, I’m totally irresponsible with my hard-earned dosh.  I earn my bread and then redistribute it on a combination of soft drink addictions and the need to add bits to my bicycle having shredded one part or the other.  I’m told you can save money easier by taking on extra jobs.  “Where can I find more work?”  I’m glad you have asked.  There’s the internet with forums like Dave’s ESL Café (www.eslcafe.com), there’s more regional classified adverts (like on Hubhao), social media like QQ, Facebook and WeChat groups.  Placing an advert in a bar or public place generally gets you spotted quickly.  Beyond the school gates in amongst the masses of parents is a good place to hand out your number and simple advertisement [Disclaimer:  check with your school first, and your teaching contract if this is okay].  Asking senior teachers if they know of anybody looking for private tuition will find you work.  In sunny Houjie, I have had a dozen requests each month and I usually delegate them to my immediate colleagues or friends.  Some of us like free time too much!

 

Forward thinking.  Ever had an idea during a class?  A bright spark followed by that lightbulb moment?  Yes, we all do.  Note it down for later.  During my summer vacation I plan to tailor images, bring props, bring some real things from home, kidnap my parents and force them to move to China… and so on.  There are gaps that can be brought to life in every topic.  I just need to get a life size replica of the Eiffel Tower into China… oh, wait, that’s already been done!!!  I plan this summer to collect magnetic board games including a giant Jenga; some English story books; more things to do with Manchester and the U.K. in general; prizes for games and competitions; seashells from the U.K. and many, many new holiday photos with friends and family.  I am a guest in China, and I want my students to be guests in my life and happenings.

 

Notes.  Notes, not of the musical variety, although that does help occasionally…  “Old MacDonald had a farm… A-E-I-O-U.”  I mean notes, as in minutes, records, transcripts or observations are important.  I average an A4 sized notepad every quarter of a year for a reason.  I rarely write anything beyond words, short sentences and abbreviated squiggles.  This is my idea factory.  Some ideas never bear fruit or even blossom.  Others get filling, direction and fill Powerpoints, games, review tasks, ideas to brighten the school walls up, become performances, songs, poems etc.  Notes, to me, are the foundation blocks of teaching.  Plus, every now and then, I look back at my notes from years gone by and find a piece of gold dust that gives rise to something big and wonderful (like posters about European nations and their culture etc).  Creativity can be born from one note.  La, la, la, laaaaaa.

 

Instructions and examples.  Before travelling somewhere unfamiliar for an interview or appointment, I look at the mode of transport, costs, timings, practicalities, possible weather and climate, etc.  The same applies to teaching instructions.  My sets of instructions have to be clear, broken down into steps, with the relevant introduction and content.  Without this, I am asking for anarchy and pandemonium to visit our classroom.  Alongside the clear instructions, support must be provided and clear examples given.  From knowing my classes I select the best students (and not always the same ones each time, to keep it fair overall) to assist me with demonstrating what we must do.  On the projection wall will sit a further example too.  I will enter the arena and probe around the classroom looking to see demonstrations being practiced before calling forward students to review their collective effort.

 

Don’t jump to conclusions.  Guess what?  As a teacher, you’re not a student.  You’re a teaching expert.  Reading between the lines, filling in gaps, and applying our own comprehension is instinctive.  Sometimes we must switch from autopilot mode into something more appropriate.  We can’t cycle from Chengdu to Paris, without the adequate preparation.  Students need to avoid confusion.  We must prevent them connecting two dots to form a line that is so wonky, one dot may fall off and land in a pile of previously failed dots.  Breaking up duties ensures that each instruction is followed step-by-step along the floor, then up some stairs and high above into the mountains before flight is encouraged.  Take nothing for granted, share how you think as an expert.  The parrot copies human voices for a reason and then applies the skill with precise action.  Your students can do anything with clear, concise instructions.

 

RECOVERED FROM THE DEMISE OF HUBHAO.COM

Don’t flood the market.  Rome wasn’t built in a day.  Nor was a complete understanding of the English language or uses of said philological skills.  There are professors and scholars always trying to further this language of ours.  Don’t worry about everything.  Narrow it down to just a little by little approach.  If you blanket a subject, you’ll swamp it into a boggy, murky, twisted mess and scare the students away!  Don’t do too much in a short space of time.  We must know what to include and what to eject.  Your favourite subjects of contents, e.g. football and cycling may not be apt for the syllabus.  The semester or year needs clear division into units.  Each unit must have a focus and target language.  The students’ experiences, background and class numbers need to be accounted into the material.  I have often split a* unit* into multiple classes to get a sounder understanding of more difficult subjects.  Simply prioritising and setting purposes helps.

 

Questions and answers.  I find that just a simple question with a simple answer isn’t enough to keep a conversation flowing.  Closed questions, the kind where, yes, no and maybe arise can kill a conversation.  More open questions can lead a conversation to more questions and details.  I try to encourage my students to work in pairs and have one student as the question master and the other as questioned.  This is a great technique for reviewing a subject and also makes the students think harder about the level of detail in their answer.  If the task is limited to one minute then the student can respond strongly to prevent further questions.  If the questioned student is too simplistic with their answers the question master can launch many questions.  This makes for a good spectator competition, but use it sparingly – as too many rounds will make you question using this challenge again.

 

Are you the challenger?  Don’t agree with everything.  You can be much more than someone who nods their head and says, “Yes” or “Okay.”  We can be a commentator like of Match of the Day; we can be a challenger like in a public debate; we can be more moderate like a news presenter; or we orchestrate an argument to develop deeper conversation.  Through these characters we can guide students, change behaviours, and promote thinking critically.  It goes without saying about avoiding religious and political debate but subjects such as wildlife conservation and attitudes to animal care make for interesting discussion.  Perhaps give students roles, like a hunter, a conservation worker, a wildlife guard, the family of the hunter, the medicine maker, the police and anyone else connected directly to illegal rhino horn poaching.  You’ll maybe see and hear defences, objectiveness and bias.  Flip the roles between students and see if they can understand one another’s arguments.  Challenge each student with simple questions.  Who?  When?  What?  Why?  How?  Which?  Where?

 

Handouts.  “Save the world”, “save trees”, “recycle”, are a few cried heard all over the world.  If you pass the photocopying room at my school, close to exam time, you’ll hear a different kind of whimper.  As the photocopiers go all lifeless and silent or they spew out worthless misprints the copy staff go postal.  Handouts in classes are essential for homework.  For a class task, it is worth asking two to six students to share one sheet of A4 or A3 paper.  A shared task and prompt sheet is more likely to drive the behaviours needed for good team etiquette.  And you’ve just saved the Amazon rainforest!

 

Evaluate and evolve.  Teachers have basic principles but over the years our methods have become more and more chameleonic.  The successful teacher adapts to new technologies and new methods.  They seek new ideas and embrace them.  They also refine the tried and tested methods to a finite degree of near perfection.  There’s no resting on their laurels (or Sweet Bay leaves).  If something that did work, no longer works, changes must be made.  A variety of incidents may change your teaching methods.  A class size change from 16 to 60 certainly will make you uneasy.  The old rules may be redundant.  There may be a drive for more advanced media orientated or business connected vocabularies.  You must know what to do, usually by understanding your previous workings, exams, evaluations and student knowledge.  You may need to prepare extra base work or go off subject to bring about further knowledge teaching.  You may need a library, online resource, ask somebody for help or forum to seek new ideas or guidance.  From here we can construct content with objectives, structure, adjust and format a new range of materials.  Not everything comes from experience.  Keeping it as simple as possible will make it much more management.

 

For further reading:

*Is it an unit or a unit?  See this debate.

 

 

Teaching with Chopsticks #1

oyster28catcher (JRA)

RECOVERED FROM THE DEMISE OF HUBHAO.COM

Delving into my mind can be a dangerous adventure.  There are millions of self-help guides littering shelves of local and international bookstores.  This is not intended to dictate or to be taken as gospel.  Teaching English is very much like tasting Marmite – you either fall in love with it, or you hate it.  Like most long-standing sandwich spreads, you’ll adapt, innovate and reinvent.  The cycle of normality will be broken.  Back off textbook simplicity.  I want to offer five tips, not in the fly-tipping or gratuities sense but these little boons:

 

  1. Teaching should be very personal.

When you meet someone interesting, they stand out.  Why do they stand out?  They’re interesting, you switch on.  Give the students what they want and they’ll want more.  You’re a teacher from a far off mystical land.  More is less, less is more and so on.  Using the imagination and your passion will drive their interest.

 

  1. Fear nothing. Lead the way.

The worst that can happen will only happen if you panic, the little monsters in front of you choose it or life dictates Murphy’s Law is due an appearance.  You are your class leader.  Dictate the pace, the content and the smiles.  Speak in a natural way, slow but clear and fill your words with feeling.  Acting like the latest version of Leslie Nielsen [if you’ve used Baidu to search for this, shame on you] is all part of the game.  Loosen the students up, make them aware that your class is about relaxing and stepping off the plateau of norm on to the steppes of an atypical day out.  Your class is an enjoyable escapology act and you are the next provider of mystery and queries.

 

  1. You’re having a laugh. Share it.

We all switch off 15 minutes into any presentation, apparently (source unknown, I switched off before that was presented).  Some things demand light-hearted jolliness, other things need a belly laugh or two.  English is a fantastic language and versatile as a cockroach in a kebab shop.  It can bend, it can twist and it will find some meaty content to live on.  I find students will engage you more if you’re more Patch Adams than Louis Pasteur.  Often students here sit through strict, highly rigid and lifeless mathematics or history classes.  Making a connection to the students is key, whether it is straight-faced or outright gurning.  The level of humour obviously mustn’t disturb neighbouring classes.  That said, if the neighbouring classes hear the odd chuckle, they’ll look forward to your classes…

 

  1. Game on.

Structure in a lesson is important.  Tricking students into learning by thinking they’re playing games is far more important.  From the off I tend to award points for simple tasks, like remembering my ever evolving class rules to simply giving a good example of oral English.  A warm-up game between two to four small or large groups can dictate reward points from the off.  Every now and then an actual reward, be that of the sweet kind or the stationery kind enters the classroom.  The students sit up straight, are on their proverbial collective toes and knuckle down.  Routine, expectation and a hunger to win can seriously gear up your classrooms.  I often find there is always a brainy team or each group has stand out students.  But beware.  Beware imbalanced point awarding.  Take control and steer the results in a way organisations connected with a major World Cup would take pride in.  I recommend a visiting game shops, using online resources (www.tes.co.uk; http://www.eslprintables.com/; or sites like http://learnenglishkids.britishcouncil.org/en), popping into Decathlon for softer versions of the dartboard or researching old playground favourites.  Get on it.  I have and I will never turn back.

 

  1. Realia Manchester.

Realia, is a funky latin word, for meaning real stuff.  Real stuff has several benefits.  The blackboard/chalk board/white board/projector screen can scatter.  It can properly do one, out of the room, no longer needed, make them as redundant as tone washers on the Great Wall.   The realm of authentic artefacts begins.  Be the subject winter, bring a scarf, hat and gloves.  Be it holidays, produce postcards, a backpack and some holiday snaps.  A bag is always a great way to smuggle items into class.  Place it on a raised chair, upfront and central to invoke the curiosity of your audience.  So far, my most praised classes by observing teachers have involved a Powerpoint [other methods are available] presentation entirely stocked with photographs.  Alongside this has been a carrier bag, costumes, and special effects.  Are you a budding George Lucas?  I hear you say.  No, I reply.  The classroom can be pre-prepared to have areas of interaction, props and posters or maps.  Why not go orienteering indoors?  Remember everything is possible.

 

这是所有乡亲/ Zhè shì suǒyǒu xiāngqīn (That’s all folks).

{check the above again and again}

Balfour 100: Need a little time to wake up…

oyster28catcher (JRA)

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

A few days ago, I sat down and ate a Twix for breakfast. A cheeky cup of McDonald’s coffee (there are no coffee shops open in the morning) sat alongside. Salad and healthy living had no need to visit that morning. Having played football the night before, my body ached. The exploits of Cool Breeze F.C. (Changping) had worn me right out. Shattered. The morning has in for many months involved reading news and waking up slowly. As per the Oasis lyrics to Morning Glory, “Need a little time to wake up…”

Is it me or has everything just become a larger stinking pile of danger than it needed to be? There is a clash of ideals on an epic scale. In historic times, brutality, pillaging, plundering and ransacking was not an ideal way to live but it was generally expected, as groups of different people moved around the world seeking resource, slaves and valuables. Then came a time when people stood up to one another and said things like, “Stop. Wait a minute. [insert minority, ethnicity or different people here] are just like us. They’re human.” It was the turn from being retarded cave-creatures into proper decent people. Civilized. But, wait the new minority didn’t get the memo. They in turn preached and disturbed the evolution of knuckle-dragging folk into enlightened beings. And now, one of their own runs a rather large country.

I don’t need Wikipedia to inform me that the U.S. of A. houses around 320 million people. Americans have roughly a 75% white and 70% Christian background. Around 20% of the country has no recognised faith. The U.K.’s 65 million people has about 85% of its people as being Caucasian (that’s polite for white). About 76% of the people of Christian background, about 22% don’t identify or follow a faith. I think from my experiences; the U.K. is very much multicultural and on the cusp of a post-Christian society. All faiths seem massively tolerant and open to inter-faith mingling. However, I believe social integration is a bigger problem. Cracks in communities are there but they are there by class more than religion. Unless you read The Sun or Daily Mail or The Telegraph…, there are more to choose from. Anyway, U.S.A. formed in 1776 on a date in July. I forget the date because their modest history doesn’t give us any celebrations to hold for this matter. After obliterating the natives, they had expansions, a huge Civil War, an era called the Reconstruction Era, mass immigration, an industrial boom, a Great Depression that followed The Great War (far away in Europe), and the Cold War with bitter rivals (and now possible electoral friends) U.S.S.R. (now Russia). Civil rights arrived late.

Speeches and deaths followed as the U.S. opposed China and Korea in the 50s overseas, and the following decade brought about the Civil Rights Act of 1968. Sexual revolution, black nationalism and opposition of the Vietnam War preceded a war against poverty. 8 U.S. Presidents presided over the U.S. fed conflict in Vietnam. The U.S. seemed at this stage to be moving closer to a role of World Police, and freedom. Their stubborn grasp of their right to bear arms has seen this supposedly developed nation top the charts for gun violence consistently. Each atrocity has been ignored by their senate and government, save for the standard press release.

President Obama said his final year of presidency would feature a dominance in the theme of gun control. He had no chance. No backing by the lawmakers. As money poured into research, lives were shed in their hundreds. Three of the five highest death tolls occurred in 2016 and 2017. So, with stupidity ruling the controversial and contentious debate on gun control, it was with no surprise that U.S.A. voted in a fuckwit as the 45th (and worst to date) President of the Utd. States. The wigged man has had a hattrick of wives, a barrel of offspring and invested his assets everywhere. Controversy is his bed-fellow and walls he seeks to build.

Now, Trump blows a powerful horn, the top seat of a major country. He has possibly sought company in Alex Jones and Roger Stone. He has pandered to white nationalists, time and time again, whilst blowing raspberries and race debates. The F.B.I., busy with Hilary Clinton’s emails seemed to back Trump by dealing their hand at an odd time. A shadow of sexual misconduct, pussy grabbing, non-consensual kisses, gropes and much ill-timed words have been documented by many media sources. I imagine they are all entirely as fake as the man who self-proclaimed that he invented the word fake.

Before his election Trump has had no political history or military background. It is likely that he shadow-wrote his books and at most organised letters into his name quite often enough to remember how to spell it. Plus, Trump means fart in British English. The clue was in the name. But, still he was elected. A fairly-elected President deserves respect. He has exercised all the humility and modesty of bull in a China shop, during an earthquake, as Earth implodes, whilst being sucked into a black hole and total-plutonic reversal.

“Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.” – Egon Spengler, Ghostbusters

So, what does a 71-year old man get out of being U.S. President? Well, think of the endorsements. The legacy. The legend. The power. The control. And Trump is in that seat until 2020…

So, now to the big fish lurking in murky deep waters. This week, U.S. of A. recognised Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. Great news? A peace deal was reached? The international community backed this? All sides are happy?

Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas used the word deplorable. Not a weak word there. Deplorable sits in the thesaurus around great words such as appalling, unacceptable, shocking unpardonable, shameful and the antonym praiseworthy. Perhaps he was mistranslated. Why do 8/15 of the U.N. Security Council want an urgent meeting by the end of the week? Perhaps, they have another pressing matter? The final stages of the peace processes stated in 1993 that the Israel-Palestinian peace accords would justify Jerusalem’s status at the latter stages. Are they there yet? Judaism, Islam and Christianity have been hotly contesting Jerusalem for thousands of years. Did Trump just do the unthinkable and deliver on a presidential campaign promise? Yes, he did. He didn’t lie. Mostly, he endorsed Israel and shied away from Palestine. As Mr Abbas, spoke of “eternal capital of the state of Palestine” and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu tweeted, “Jerusalem has been the focus of our hopes, our dreams, our prayers for three millennia” it was clear to many that dangerous consequences were on the horizon. The Islamist Hamas at their Gaza nightclubs probably didn’t have a party, and phrases such as “open the doors of hell” aimed at Americans seemed to be banded around. Saudi Arabia was pissed off too, King Salman mentioned something that “would constitute a flagrant provocation of Muslims, all over the world”.

Istanbul’s U.S. consulate needed added security as crowds gathered to cheer and enjoy the decision? Theresa May may or may not be leader of the U.K. in the future, but her sound words about being “unhelpful in terms of prospects for peace in the region” sounded solid enough as she broke further away from being friends with Europe. French President Emmanuel Macron sounded like a Scouser, “Calm down!” Turkish Foreign Minister Mevlut Cavusoglu tweeted (the media of everything nowadays), “the decision is against international law and relevant UN resolutions”. The Arab League (nothing to do with football) asked if the U.S. could remain as a “trusted mediator” in the future. Qatar mentioned something about death sentences, which seems terribly dramatic for a place so respectful of human rights. Jordan (the state and not the model) seemed to add constructive words, whilst Iran slipped in a worry of a “new intifada” – meaning uprising. The shitty Man Utd went to Rome to see the Pope and this is what he said, “I cannot silence my deep concern”. He hasn’t spoken much since. I think he is sleeping. China, Germany and Russia mentioned possible tensions. Hell, if the Devil was nonfictional, he’d probably congratulate Trump.

2017 will be remembered for North Korea playing advanced versions of darts; Harvey Weinstein and a billion other Hollywood abusers; Trump playing God (he also had 528 protest marches against him in January); Brexit actually being used as a word; the Yemen, Somalia, South Sudan and Nigeria humanitarian crisis getting little coverage; Syria (ongoing as always) and chemical weapons; cyber and ransomware attacks; America exiting the Paris Climate Agreement; ISIL attacks globally; possible textbook Rohingya Muslim extermination; Hurricanes Harvey, Irma, Maria; U.S. and Israel exiting UNESCO; Fats Domino, Roger Moore and Adam West departed life; Catalonia departing Spain, illegally; but at least Robert Mugabe is gone.

 

MMXVII, you suck (That’s American for bobbins). Mostly, due to Trump – and much down to the Balfour Declaration (created 2nd November 1917)

 

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

28 Degrees (Later?)

oyster28catcher (JRA)

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

For everything else there is Mastercard.

I heard a story that goes a little like this. A man spent a considerable amount of time validating his university degree certificate and police check in summer. It cost him far too much for two pieces of paper (£5 at the solicitors, £30 at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, and £30 at the Chinese consulate) – £130 for two pieces of paper. With that he left for Hong Kong, he met someone from his new school, obtaining a 60-day double-entry visa by the third day, and then entered China as a tourist. He had to exit China on the 30th day and on the 60th day, once again. This time the next visa was for only 14 days. On that 13th day, he exited and returned the same day, with a 30-day business visa in hand. Strangely, that man is now wondering what will happen next?

The man’s dreams of a life in China are fading, his insurance has been voided, he cannot obtain local medical treatment (if ever needed), and he has not rented an apartment. Is this illegal worker a hobo? Should he stay, or should he go? Previously, he worked for just under 4 years without a hitch – on a legal work and residence permit. As a native speaker, he has a university degree, the requisite TEFL, wants to learn Chinese and contribute to international relations. His years of experience gained count for diddly squat right now. I even heard he had to sign another form to say that his name is his name and to his knowledge, there is no other in China by that name.

Anyway, enough about him, let’s talk weather. Chilly in Carlisle? Icy in Ingleton? Yesterday, the mercury hit 28°C, which seems crazy for the 12th of November. Today, it is a fairly-humid 20°C, the downpours have been with us since 9am, making for a soggy ground and a real feel temperature of 27°C. The highest it will reach today is 25°C. For the remainder of the week, it is expected to hit 28°C, with lows of 18°C. Winter is coming, but nobody seems sure as to when…

“Don’t eat my little friends.” 27 tangerines to be precise. Each gifted to a student, on the basis that if they behave very well, they will be rewarded team by team. If not, they must give their tangerines to another student in a different team. It forms just one small segment of bringing the students together – and eradicating a simmering tension between one half-Japanese student (half-Chinese too) and his classmates. Many students are from Singapore, Taiwan, Hong Kong and Macau too. One student is half-French. One student is half-Australian.

The whole Japan and China thing is instilled in culture, and is not a subject to approach lightly. My only concern is that a six-year old boy is being cruelly singled out for something he never experienced, nor did his father, and likely another generation after that too. Just like the 1917 Balfour Declaration, the actions of others cause an affect on the lives of those down on the ground. This being 72 years later than the conclusion of World War Two; even longer after the 1931 Japanese invasion of Manchuria; 74 years following the outbreak of the Second Sino-Japanese War.

The Marco Polo Bridge Incident may have been 80 years ago, sparking up the bloody and cruel Second Sino-Japanese War. This war became popularised as the War of Resistance (抗日战争) and the eight years’ war of resistance (八年抗战). Even now the name has changed to reflect a conflict stemming back to 1931 (十四年抗战) – the 14 years’ war of resistance. The War of Jiǎwǔ (甲午戰爭; Jiǎwǔ Zhànzhēng) lasted around 8.5 months from 1894-1895. It is vastly confusing and a bitter time resulting in around 37,000 deaths. This period is often referred to as the First Sino-Japanese War. To complicate matters entirely China had been a in state of civil war from around 1927, following the April 12th Incident (四一二慘案). Even that stems back to the 1923 alliance by Nationalist Party of China (中國國民黨; Zhōngguó Guómíndǎng), with the Soviet Union. Only in 1912 had the Qing Dynasty (大清) ended, having started in 1636! So, after 276 years of stability, recent memory of the Middle Kingdom’s rule has been shaped drastically by times of warfare and leadership battles.

The People’s Republic of China (中华人民共和国; Zhōnghuá Rénmín Gònghéguó), founded on October 1st, 1949 followed almost a century of uncertainty, turbulence and conflict. To conclude, the past should affect not one child, but sadly it does. There is only one certainty in life and that is death. As a teacher we must protect, fight for and defend our students, supporting them in ways like a parent, but also that of a guardian of their galaxy. As a seed finds its way into the soil, it is protected from the environment overhead, and predation. We as teachers must be the soil to allow our seeds to grow. Without getting too convoluted or dull, the past is just that, and everything needs to be focused on turning the now into a great future, for each of us, our community, our countries, and ultimately our world – environment and all! Politics and history isn’t a place for a six-year old kid learning how to say, “I can play.” That’s not his place. He needs to focus on schooling, playing and growing up without distraction and fear. Twenty-eight degree temperatures can’t be enjoyed otherwise

 

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

Kind of Personal Views (Teaching)

oyster28catcher (JRA)

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

School requested an article on education, experience or some such similar subject. So, I drafted the following:

Personal Views of Teaching

Hey, hey, my name is Mr John. I come from Manchester, the northern powerhouse of England. The industrial revolution and communism have origins in my hometown. Aside from links to Friedrich Engels, Karl Marx and the first railway station, my city is famous for music, football and cycling now. That and a T.V. show called Coronation Street! My interests include writing, reading, history and Chinese culture. I enjoy swimming, football, cycling and eating. You can see from my stomach that I like eating. I am not slim.

For me there are few things more rewarding than introducing new words, topics, and questions – only to see the students embrace these and use these frequently. The ostrich and kangaroo cannot walk backwards, and this is an approach to speaking English, I hope all students will hold. I believe teaching is far more than textbooks and games. Confidence, belief and an interesting and engaging classroom environment deepen learning in a way black and white words cannot. I believe in investment in classroom materials, the classroom decoration and books.

To make the learning environment bright and bold, is to awaken the imagination. Stories, the skill of questioning and a hunger to want more from each class goa long way to releasing a students’ full potential. Taking elements from great comedians like Laurel and Hardy, or Morecambe and Wise and applying slapstick humour, appropriate dialogue and real world uses of language is important. Communication through body language is equally as important as the words we speak.

A happy teacher is one free of out-of-school distractions, settled in a home and passionate from morning to evening. There are many great non-native speaking teachers but to be perfect, a school must headhunt the best available teachers. In an ideal world they must all be native speakers, or educated at the highest levels in order to offer genuine and authentic pronunciation. On top of this the foreign teacher must offer a glimpse of their cultures. There is a vast difference between many peoples, and the people of the U.S.A., U.K., Ireland and Australia have also very much distinct heritages.

A cosy work environment makes for a settled teacher. Schools should work tirelessly to retain their best teachers, whether Chinese, foreign or alien! We all remember our best teachers from our times in schools. Few former students will remember ever-changing lines of teachers. Teachers should feel valued and wanted. A steady teacher can settle and offer support to students, parents and colleagues alike.

From my experiences within China, I have an understanding, of face, the love for food and other intangible cultural facts. However, my attitude is that the world is changing. We must preserve our heritage but not at the expense of the future. I hope to push our students to respect key areas of conversation such as recycling, the importance of our environmental, conservation, and more daily matters like brushing your teeth and eating less sugar. In my classrooms there is no flag of one nation, there is an international door welcoming all nations as one. To be stronger, for China, we must work together as one and put aside history or politics. We must respect one another and make our students prepared for the world ahead.

Students are central to schools, like water is to life. To that end we must protect and maintain the purity and safety of our students. A safe area of studies, where each student will spend the majority of their week, is one in which they can blossom. In the classroom, facts, figures and essential life skills can be honed. Parents can support and provide common sense which together with schooling will enhance a child’s future prospects.

My time in China has been enjoyable and inspiring. Each positive day pushes me on, and makes me hungry to not just do my best, but to want to try new things and make a difference. I hope each and every day in school features a plethora of smiles for students and just reward at the end of the road. Some days it won’t come easy, some days it won’t come at all, but these are days that make and break us. Being broken isn’t the end, it can be the foundation for a grand building, a great future and to that end, every student can succeed. Every student has potential and it is up to us, the teachers, the guardians, the parents, the guides to help each student find their feet. They can do it. We can do it. You can do it.

From the above, I then edited it down to the below:

Personal Views: Teaching

Hey, hey, my name is Mr John. I come from the city of Manchester, in the U.K. It is two hours north of the city of London. My city is famous as the birthplace of industry, great music, and sports such as football and cycling. There is also a famous T.V. show that many people learn English by watching it. It is called Coronation Street. My interests include writing, reading, history and Chinese culture. I enjoy swimming, football, cycling and eating. You can see from my stomach that I like eating. I am not slim.

I get great satisfaction from teaching. I enjoy introducing new words, topics, and questions. It makes me smile to see the students embrace new classes and use these often. Together we can make our classes more exciting and colourful. We can make the black and white world of homework and tests into something different. My time in China has been enjoyable and inspiring. Each positive day pushes me on, and makes me hungry to not just do my best, but to want to try new things and make a difference.

The ostrich and kangaroo cannot walk backwards. This is how I want my students to be. To speak English, by only going forwards. Learning is far more than textbooks and games. I want my students to feel confidence. They can do it. We can do it. I can do it. Everything is possible with each student’s powerful minds. We all must believe.

I believe in investment in classroom materials, the classroom decoration and books. White walls can be rainbows. Chalkboards can be frames of artwork. The ceiling can be a place to hang and celebrate great work by students. Students should be inspired to ask questions and be curious. Stories and reading can help better their minds. Using comedy along the way, we can bring laughter and sunshine both inside and outside school. Each student can share their stories of school for days and years to come.

A happy foreign teacher is one free of out-of-school distractions. They are settled in a home and passionate from morning to evening. They have energy and engage their students. They push students to enhance their language skills. They are free from worry and distraction and focus on their students. They always try to improve their classes, classroom and students. They share their culture and believe they can make a difference. We all remember our best teachers from our times in schools. My hope and beliefs are to make our students better, each and every day.

Students are central to schools, like water is to life. We must make schools a place for students to want to go. We must open the gates to their minds and happiness. A happy home life and a happy school life can help students be ready for life. Teachers, parents and students can work as a team to turn paper into thought. The future will be brighter with good study experiences and a better understanding of the world. I believe every student can succeed. Their potential is in our hands. We won’t let them down.

The content changes may reflect my moods on each day of writing. Or perhaps, in hindsight I was too politically-charged in one piece and less conservative in another. It is important to know your audience, if in fact you have one, when you write. Writing from the heart is all good in one situation, but in another it may cause offence. And if you take something you have read by me personal, I have some expletive words and directions for you to take. Oh, and grow up. If you get offended by words, even if I contradict myself from time to time, I never look to offend anyone. Okay, maybe some knobhead singing boybands, Manchester Utd. fans are fair game too, and people who quote books without ever reading them, but not Scousers. I’ll have nothing said against high-pitched bin-dippers [tonge firmly in cheek]. Banter.

 

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

On Andy Morrison, bee-ing 35 and diarrhea

oyster28catcher (JRA)

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

On the 29th of October 1998, one man arrived at Manchester City F.C. He would go on to make a difference in ways unmatched by many since.

To set the scene, City were struggling, properly striving to continue running day to day. They had fell two flights of football, following Francis Lee stepping aside as Chairman for David Bernstein. Francis Lee had inherited a club in a dire state from Peter Swales. Franny “One Pen”, the former City forward presided over the club for a year and a half. Bernstein arrived with a vision of stabilising the sleeping giant of City. But, it wasn’t going to start smoothly. After seven seasons in the top flight, City petered out of the elite league, holding on for a 2-2 draw with Liverpool at Maine Road. On that day, it was firmly believed a draw was enough. City woefully dropped down to Division One. Coventry City and Southampton’s greater goal difference condemned City. The following season City finished midtable and then the major cracks began to show. Alan Ball, Steve Coppell (for 33 days), and Frank Clark  (with two other caretaker managers) featured as managers in a rollercoaster season. As City failed to bid for promotion, a second season in Division One loomed.

CITY DOWN

Frank Clark’s battle wasn’t helped, in inheriting 40 senior players on good contracts, he could not reduce the squad. He was often looked at a bad manager. Most of it wasn’t his fault. He hit the nail on the head, when speaking to the Sunday Times in August 1997, “Because we’ve got to fill the reserves with senior pros needing match practice or players we’re trying to sell, the youngsters’ development is held up.” The Sunday Times 6/1 favourites to win the Divison One title stumbled. A 63-year association with shirt-makers Umbro and a new crest didn’t help the feeling that City’s heartbeat was on life support. Even laser blue replaced sky blue. City loaned out numerous senior players and released many. Big Joe Royle came home to City as manager in spring. His signings Richard Jobson, Jamie Pollock, a little known Bermudan called Shaun Goater and Ian Bishop didn’t have enough to City from the drop to Division Two.

So, by October 1998, City had recorded just 5 wins from 15 games. Hardly promotion form. Their debut season in the third tier of football had began woefully. Players left in an exodus and Big Joe Royle signed Big Andy Morrison. And he was big. He didn’t have a slim typical football figure about him. He’d have been more at home on a rugby field, perhaps. But, one thing he did have was a pair of eyes that could be read. He did not want to lose a thing. Not a tackle. Not a game. His beady intense stare shone with heart and strength. A debut goal, after arriving on loan from Huddersfield Town, was only the start of something special.

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Andy Morrison was a tackler, from the off, he loved to smash an opponent by putting his foot through the ball – and sometimes player. City paid just £80,000 for the centre half. Within a handful if games he had made the Captain’s armband his own. Three goals in just four games helped showcase his leadership and bravery. His tooth and claw attitude made him a cult player very quickly. With losses at York City (watched by a record crowd of almost every Mancunian on Earth), Lincoln City, Barnsley, and Stockport County in recent years, every game could have ended in defeat. Home games were just as dogged-ugly and a dismal mood seemed to swamp City like the insurers of Georgi Kinkladze’s Ferrari.

17 wins from 31 games, with just 4 defeats helped City to reach the play-off finals, by finishing third. City then drew at Wigan’s Springfield Road before Goater’s goal at Maine Road sealed a trip to Wembley. Having led City out against Gillingham in the Play Off Final, he was forced off with injury after 61 minutes. Local lad Michael Brown (still playing at Port Vale) also made way for Tony Vaughn and veteran Ian Bishop. The scores locked at 0-0 until 81 minutes passed, then Carl Asaba stabbed a knife into every City fans’ heart. All belief seemed to evaporate in that moment. Tony Pulis’s side went one better, six minutes later, with Bobby Taylor scoring the second goal. Surely it was over. How could City compete without their Captain? “Party time in Kent tonight” suddenly became in doubt as Dickov flicked the ball to Goater. Goater skipped through the centre of the Gillingham defence, but was upended and as he picked himself up tentatively, Super Kevin Horlock had rifled the ball into the net. His super left foot, stranding man of the match Vince Bartram. A few half-hopeful balls from Bishop, hooked into the defence; a misguided cross from Terry Cooke high over the crossbar; Gillingham playing the ball into touch at every opportunity – and the five added minutes of stoppage time seemed to be dwindliung away. City looked condemned to another year in Division Two. On 93:48 City’s Cooke, slid over the right-hand byline, chasing a seemingkly lost cause. Weaver played the ball back from his goalline, having seen the ball bobble all the way back to almost the corner flag. The throw-in fed back to Wiekens who lofted the ball upfield reaching a midfielder’s head for a flick on to a yellow and blue-striped hero. The Sky Sports commentators, “its not over until the final whistle…” as Goater received the ball, threading it beautifully out to Paul Dickov, who entered the box. His shot hit the net and the laser blue end of Wembley erupted. 94:09 showing on the clock. City went on to win on penalties with heroes from goal to the bench, to behind the scenes. All of this was possible because of a man at the back, who gave hope and was part of something special: City’s first true team in my lifetime. A City team with heart and belief. My first glimpse of that never say never attitude, that would come again in 2011/12. As Weaver runs around crazily, he runs into Andy Morrison had Morrison’s face is ecstatic. He deserved to lift that trophy – and become embedded deep in City folklore thereafter.

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My Dad mentions Mike Doyle and Gerry Gow as hard men in the game, that played at City. Since Andy Morrison, I’d only add Richard Dunne, Nigel De Jong and Pablo Zabaleta in there. Now, Andy is Manager at Welsh Premier League club Connah’s Quay – and remains close to City’s heart in his role as official Fan Ambassador of Manchester City. More importantly, every player that has followed can see his images, his videos and his passion. Whilst not always the cleanest player, he was certainly one of the most spirited, at a time when it would have been easy to collect wages and look for a bigger club. Bumping into BlueMoonRisingTV, Andy Morrison said, “play me with John Stones” and has always continued a down to earth relationship with City. I bumped into Andy after City’s win over QPR in May 2012, and he was happy to allow me a photo with him.

Morrison’s junior years at Southampton (alongside Le Tissier and Shearer) couldn’t deliver. He moved on to Plymouth, with six good years before leaving Peter Shilton’s team to Blackburn Rovers for a record fee. Colin Hendry (then Captain of Scotland), Henning Berg, David May, Patrick Berger, Ian Pearce, Kevin Moran etc stood in his way. His potential never had a chance. A move to Huddersfield followed and his off the field character shut a door. City called. The rest is as they say history. Back to back promotions at City allowed City to return to the Premier League. Nervous players suddenly found their calm nerve under the captaincy of Morrison. Maine Road’s gloom lifted-off and the excitement factor returned.

Between fights with Paulo Wanchope and licking Stan Collymore, several “clearing of the air” incidents added to Andy Morrison’s fearsome character. Professionally, Andy placed himself “in the top 1%” for training and professionalism. His off the field antics, ups, downs and lows are captured throughout his autobiography, The Good, the Mad and the Ugly – The Andy Morrison Story. Rather than slip off the rails and do bad, Morrison enlightens all on demons that many have lurking at the end of the bed. The warnings came time and time again. It made his character who he is, no doubt, and nobody with a sensible mind can argue, that fighters fight more with their minds, than their bodies. His battles with depression, finding new directions, money management and mental health can lead, as he did on the field. Hundreds of footballers have had chances, and many make it work – but few as well as the household names like Messi and Ronaldo, and ever fewer ride the storm to sail onwards like our Andy.

Speaking to CityTV’s Chappy, in November 2014, “It was just a very surreal feeling in the changing room afterwards and I was one of the last people to leave. I just felt, I just felt a fulfilment. You know that sacrifices made – that there was a reward for it.” To new fans joining City’s growing football family, I implore you to look at the story of City, in every corner, era and decade. Embrace our future – together with our history. Grasp the community and the folk who featured. It isn’t just cups and titles. City are much more than that.

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Oh, and yesterday, I turned 35 years of age. I didn’t party as such. I awoke. Having slept in late. The middle of the night diarrhea hadn’t gave me any motive to move much. The movements had been pretty-damn uncomfortable. Not only that, but the school’s apartment stank of shit from the off. A leaking waterpipe had meant not even a shower was possible. Thankfully I had somewhere to go and escape to, after waking up. After losing my voice on Tuesday, struggling through MC duties at school’s Dance Extravaganza and avoiding doing the YMCA the following night, I again took up MC duties on Thursday night. Almost every day I had a combination of a bad belly and headaches coupled with other niggling annoyances. Last Sunday night’s game of football may have been a win, for my new team Cool Breeze (Dongguan) F.C. but I came off the field needing rest. The trip to Hong Kong last week had hammered my immune system.

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So, without breakfast in my belly (and the maximum allowance of anti-diarrhea tablets), a light snack and a wasted afternoon of napping, I headed to Dongcheng. There I met Ched, Mrs Ched, and Jodie. A quick stop at The Treehouse, around 6pm, for the Artisan’s market and an equally brief stop at Irene’s Bar’s extremely cool Halloween grotto followed. From there 10pm had arrived on the watch. Dark o’clock meant City were on the tele-box, so on arriving to Murray’s Irish Pub, that meant flicking the switch to on. Two hot-whiskey lemon drinks with cloves were needed. They sat well. They calmed an aching rumbling stomach. Two bowls of excellent chilli con carne at Irene’s Bar had been needed. The combination, pooled-together, simultaneously, at the same time, to settle my stomach. Following the footy, I watched the Mighty Orphans and the house band before eventually scattering for a reasonably-early night at 3am. Not bad for just two alcoholic beverages all night. Oh, and I dressed as a bee, but everyone Asian thought it was Pikachu from Pokémon. I do like the idea of someone drunk mistaking me for a short, chubby rodent on their night out. For photos, I refused to smile, unless the request had the word please. Hardly the scariest outfit of the night but I shocked a few people. This is perhaps the closest I have come to wearing a onesie. I am not having a midlife crisis.

 

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

Spatial awareness, cuddling goblins and common sense.

oyster28catcher (JRA)

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

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So, the first Friday of my return I met my students for the 2017/18 academic year. They are all grade one students. There seemed to be an age range from 6 to 7 years old. There are considerable differences in height and physique. Spoken English ability appears to very high, with only a limited vocabulary restricting conversations flowing with perfection. They are learning fast and have a great foundation.

I first met several students in the days leading up to Friday, whilst I was preparing the classroom. My students seem to have a range of normal names, not often witnessed in Chinese primary schools. Rain, Christie, Natalie, Lawson, and Evan are a few examples of ordinary names, for extraordinary students. Soffy, whose older sister Waffy, is an oddity of a name, however, her English ability is magnificent. I suspect the names relate to something that I am yet to understand.

Today was my 28th day of school. Many fine moments have been had, and many questions have formed along the short jouney to date. How far up a nose can a finger reach? If a student is hyperactive and responds to other positive stimulus, should they receive different treatment? How funny is a music teacher using a mobile phone to play music over a tiny megaphone device? In China those little portable voice amplifiers are the size of an old Sony Walkman. They will happily distort any old sound. They’re even partial to a bit of feedback that even the Gallagher Brothers would be proud of. How many potatoes are too many? Why do my textbooks and pens keep taking nightly tours away from the classroom? Which children’s books are the best?

One potato, two potatoes, three potatoes… it seems my stomach is the world’s biggest patting board, and if hitting my stomach was an Olympic sport, then China would secure gold. Desciptions of places beyond my stomach, such as my head have ranged from a big white cabbage to that of a potato. My legs have been described as a sack of mashed potatoes. It is great to know your students have learnt the word potato, and have a knowledge of how to cook said root vegetable. If I put on a jacket, they’ll no doubt call me a jacket potato.

So, on this day in 2005, I wrote an article for ATFC.org.uk. Today, I am reminded of it. It feels good knowing that ATFC.org.uk is running and supporting the football club Aberystwyth Town after 13 years. I think ATFCnews.co.uk ran for about 5 years and before that there were a few other dated websites. The team that run ATFC.org.uk are doing a fantastic job. Unlike the national team of Wales and their bid for the World Cup, the ATFC.org.uk team are well and truly in the ball.

“Caersws 5-1 ATFC – FAW Premier Cup Round 1, 11/10/05
Newyddion/News / Contact Report Author
Demolition Derby or Caersws Curse
Referee: Mr Whitby. Attendance: 182. Entertainment value: 1/5 stars.
An early goal always helps the side who scores. Aber had no such luck as Neville Thompson helped the Bluebirds to start brightly. The ball had not crossed into the Caersws half before Caersws had the lead. Poor concentration and a strong finish around Richard Morgan allowed Thompson to score. Within ten minutes Stuart Roberts sprinted clear to almost test ex-Taff’s Well shot-stopper David Jones. Jones had some luck as Roberts’ shot clipped the post and rebounded clear.
Aber lose track of striker Neville Thompson
Caersws liked scoring so much they did it again…
Did the scoreline flatter Caersws? Quite the opposite. Caersws made use of the ball, played some neat passes and made what they deserved. Goal number two came from Neil Mitchell. Mitchell added to his one WPL goal for this season. Maybe Aber could have had some attacks and split Caersws open? Caersws were solid at the back… and determined. Their determination gave Aber no time on the ball, and their sheer graft was an example of how hard-working football should be. Even at two nil up, they rolled their sleeves up and got dirty. They played fair football and did what they like to do best, in that of frustrating their neighbours.
Now nobody knows the importance of the derby game more than Sean Jehu, the veteran Caersws player marked the game with a goal after 40 minutes sending Aber in at half-time three goals down. Half-time: Caersws 3-0 ATFC. No nobody can argue that the Aber concentration has room for improvement because yet again Aber were caught wide open. Neville Thompson bagged his second of the game after 46 minutes. The striker paced through and upset the visiting team’s hope of a come-back.
…and again.
Coates looks to pressure the Bluebird defence.
Aber had one shot on target (what I think correctly as being their first on target) soon after the 4-0 mark. Substitute Glyndwr Hughes firing past debutee David Jones from a cross. Minutes later Mr Whitby and his assistant failed to spot Jason Rees’ shot cleared from inside the goal by Andy Thomas. Thomas was clearly shielded behind his keeper and another defender. The referee waved play on much to the disbelief of Aber. With under ten minutes to go Caersws’ Venables headed home to put the icing on the Bluebird fairy cake.
Tonight Aber were watched by Tomi Morgan (Friday looms for another Mid-Wales derby game) and Ken McKenna tonight (who is looking forward to a win at Treflan?). Interesting to see a warm cuppa is still served in cups at Caersws – delicious. Bari Morgan will likely be absent from the coming games due to severe bruising to his thigh. Glyndwr Hughes is shaking off his achilles injury.”

In some ways, I miss writing football reports and watching copious amounts of football. In other ways, I don’t. I like writing about variety and having made the decision to exit HubHao – I can safely say I need a new and local challenge, after a break since issue 27. There is a series of novels in the pipeline with provisional interest in the text from a few choice publishers. And something akin to being a textbook… The Very Hungry Caterpillar it is not.

I love how people often cross the road here, without stopping, looking and listening. Heck, drivers seem instinctive at entering flowing traffic without looking. Their yellow flashing lights are at no risk of a bulb blowing from overuse, or actual use for that matter. Today, m\ny students entering class with pull-along wheely backpacks. They turned up the aisles, and each one hit the first desk, dragging it out of position. I watched most students hit two to four desks in the process. The ones who managed to hit one desk, had a desk on the front row. Those who hit no desks, carried smaller backpacks. These backpacks are often too heavy to be hung on the students’ wooden chairs. Yet, they do. Throughout the day when seated, they are balanced out. When they stand, a seat upends. Despite demonstrations on how to steer around desks, place heavier bags away from unstable seats… it isn’t going so well.

 

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

Previously Now.

oyster28catcher (JRA)

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

SUMMER DAYS

In the week, I visited Dan and his tribe, I made my third consecutive visit to The Pantry, Parton as it is Dan’s most local of shops. I tell my mate I am going to see him and his family. It is all lies. I am there secretly for the delicious flapjacks and scones at The Pantry. That, or the slabs of chocolate delight. I will return one day soon. I guess I should call in at my mates again too…

For one night only, whilst watching comedian Ross Noble, with my brother Paul I headed to a village near to the cathedral city of York. Glamping is not something that has ever appealed, however, the wooden huts were surprisingly aesthetic, cosy and warm. The window allows great ventilation and the front door was perfect for the peaceful countryside nearby. The location was 10-15 minutes walk from Pocklington Station/Railway Station (now a converted leisure venue)/Aldi/Sainsburys – and a short skip from the glider airfield. The village is delightful and can be reached with ease from the X46/X36/747 buses from York and elsewhere. A barbecue area, great kitchen facilities and a simple yet effective shower block added to a strangely glamourous camping experience – without the hassle of camping. If I hadn’t have stayed with my spotty younger brother, I may have swayed to calling the location romantic. The owners at Wolds Glamping are not just friendly but clearly thoughtful in their bedding services, location of the six pods and ample groundspace nearby. Maybe, one day, I could take more than a night there…

Converesely, Dan and I did some actual camping, following on from our Morecambe Bay camp with the late Pete, and our North Wales camp with Adam, Pete, Steven and others. Whilst 2016, missed the now traditional pitch-in-the-wild due to Pete’s sad passing away, we will continue the fixture, which was accidentally skipped in 2014 as I was in China. So, with a supply of rum and whiskey we parked somewhere near Buttermere and hiked far and wide (in this case I am wide). In fact, we tried two sites but decided the watercourses and lay of the land to be unsuitable. Our chosen pitch was by a lake, overlooking beautiful forestry with the towering peak of ? behind us. The shadowy crag, coupled with blustering gales and driving drizzle added to the eerie ambience. After burning a tonne of forest debris on our camp fire, we buried the fire and drifted off to sleep, around about the time that the sun arose. I guess starting drinking and snacking, with stories of old, talking ideas and general natter around mid-afternoon wasn’t that bad. It is always great to catch up with your best friend. It is, as if, no time has been spent apart.

I intended to visit Gaint’s Causeway and ideally take my sister Astrid there for a short break. It wasn’t to be. However, summer did see me visit York, Pocklington village, Quarry Bank Mill, Cam and Dursley, Chepstow, Tintern, the International Birds of Prey Centre in Newant, Morecambe, Parton, Whitehaven, Kendal, South Lakes Safari Park, Ribblehead, Hyde, Lancaster, Bentham, Rotherham, Newport (South Wales), Brighton, Hove, Rotherdean, Shoreham-on-Sea, Arnside, Cardiff, Caerphilly, Caer, and various other parts of Cheshire, Lancashire and Manchester. My only complaint is that I didn’t get to see all my friends and family once again. Life has this nasty habit of being distracting and taking best laid plans apart. It happens.

OUR KID’S GAFF

Being home allowed me the chance to catch up with friends and family. A visit to Ace and Steph’s is always something to cherish. Not just to fuss their bounding bouncy cat Jake. A week spent down south with rhubarb crumble at least twice, trips to Chepstow Castle, Tintern Abbey, Dyrham Park and a few museums was most relaxing. Catching up with Ace’s father-in-law Pete was pleasing. Senior citizens and the older generation, not that Pete seems so old, is something I miss greatly. I feel I learn more from my elders in a moment than I do self-teaching in a month. Plus, for a Blackpool fan, Pete has a great sense of humour. Even, if he, Ace and Steph’s tribe enjoy the game of cricket.

I like catching up with our kid greatly, as he understands the family as much as I do. We might not always agree or disagree, but we certainly seem to make each other think, in between the games where Ace is cheating me out of pennies.

SHAUN OF THE DEAD

One thing for sure, is Christina, the second youngest of my siblings is working hard, doing something for herself to grow up and be a success. Having completed studies in Child Care, she is now embarking on studies towards a career in the uniformed services. I admire her ambition. However, my youngest sibling Shaun is wandering a gloomy path. He is very much growing into the Annakin Skywalker of Clan Acton. With his boyish good looks and his twinkling eyes, he should be utilising them to his credit. Instead, he has left home at Dad’s to live with his alcoholic mother. Whether she is still drinking, is a different matter, but stability she offers not. Also, is the alcoholic uncle still living there? Why was the first time I spotted Shaun and his mate in town so odd? Why did he look up to no good? Why can’t he think for himself? Why does he not go to college? What is his ambition? What will help him? Why didn’t he want to go the Manchester City versus Everton game? I offered to take him, wasted a bloody ticket for it too, and even just us two, and not Dad (as he could sit alone at the other end). But, he let his angry and aggressive mother talk, and couldn’t even look me in the eye. I hope he wakes up. Soon, he’ll be jobless, and with no solid roof over his head. Manchester has enough homeless. So, all summer, I’ve tried to see a brother who hasn’t tried once. It hurts. Shaun has a good heart. I can’t say the same for his common sense. But, I wish him well. Hope won’t help. He must do it for himself.

FOR EVERYTHING ELSE THERE IS MASTERCARD VISA?

Sandwiched from the dawn of the holiday to almost the end of the holiday, was a small task. It should have been a simple one. It wasn’t. “Submit your documents to the Chinese Embassy,” the school said. After weeks of pushing for my Non-Criminal Record certificate, I eventually received a Disclosure Scotland-issued certificate to say I had no criminal record. Step one complete.

So, with this and my University degree certificate, I attended Manchester China Town’s Visa and Document Handling Centre, twice. First mistake. It turns out they don’t deal with document validation. So, with the Manchester’s Chinese Consular’s address to hand, I trundled out past Manchester University into the area of Victoria Park. On arriving, I was told I must submit the documents to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office first, so that they can mark them as authentic. Online I went, filled in their forms as they said it should be. But first, I had to get my Disclosure Scotland form stamped as being witnessed by a solicitor, but without their company name on it. £10 (for two documents) lighter and later, I had this. I then submitted each piece to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (£30/each, so £60 for both, if I have my maths right). A week later they were returned. One was accepted and sporting a lovely legalisation slip. The Disclosure Scotland, however, did not. Previously, the solicitor had advised that hand-writing on it and stamping it with invalidate it. However, now the Foreign and Commonwealth Office had said it must be stamped and signed. So, a reluctant solicitor signed and stamped it, earning £5 for doing less than a minute’s work. With that the Foreign and Commonwealth Office earned themselves £30. To their credit, they had refunded the rejected document, less the price of postage before. After a further week, I waited and muc annoyance it arrived with me once more. I toodled off to the Chinese Consular, set in a great British detached house, amongst a tidy unassuming garden off Denison Road, Victoria Park. The red flag drooped in the Mancunian rain. The stars yellow and soggy. Far from home, yet still proudly overhead. On entering the cubicle-sized office, I joined a queue (not too dissimilar to ones witnessed across Dongguan) and waited my turn. Two photocopies of my passport (totalling a Great British Pound) and then I fast-tracked my submission at £30 a pop (my bank account now showing as £60 Felix Leiter) and away they went. They were returned within three days. I am now the owner of a legalised University certificate and Non-Criminal Disclosure form. Between which I managed trips to Morecambe, the Lake District, Gloucestershire and South Wales.

CURLY-WURLIES

Actually, I won’t write many things here. Sometimes, you can’t. Not because the words won’t spill out. They’ll plummet out like my bowels after a bad curry. It isn’t through shame or pain, just sometimes, somethings are for you to manage on your own and figure out. They may or may not concern others. The task of the brain is to sense, process and respond, with or without action or inaction. Experience like other perceptions are stored. My jetlagged mind is still dizzy and lagging time, like a webpage buffering slowly, and right now I have my emotions in check. Some things are filed under ‘Work in Progress’, others as ‘Out of My Control’ and some tucked away in a draw that refuses to close, called ‘What do I do?’ This is life. If it was easy, it’d be boring. If it was too simple, it wouldn’t be a challenge. Challenges make us stronger. For every great moment eating Curly-Wurlies with my Aunty Christine and talking to Uncle Ed about politics, there may be a thousand demands and stresses. If the simple life doesn’t want to call by, you don’t have to expect it. Just crack on, and do your best.

THERE’S ONLY ONE WAY OF LIFE – AND THAT’S YOUR OWN…

Getting Mum and Paul to accompany me to watch The Levellers was a good experience. It seemed they both enjoyed watching Billy Bragg, Dreadzone and The Waterboys support the main act. I acknowledge that they weren’t quite crowd-surfing or enjoying plush cushions at the Royal Exchange Theatre, but I hope it provided a little escape and leisure from every day life. Before being cross-examined about my favourite soup by a late-night reveller, my ears were treated to some of my favourite tunes from the album Levelling the Land. What a great it was, full of spirit and all things wonderful about my hometown Manchester – and the joys that music can bring. It was the only gig I had the pleasure of attending in eight weeks back. A few visits to the Manchester International Festival tent provided some glimpses into live music, but nothing too serious and time-filling. I joined the Manchester International Festival guided tour about the city’s revolutionary history and, also a town hall tour, a few days later, whilst visiting the unveiling of Phil Collin’s Engels statue in Tony Wilson Place. This last event, itself, having a Super Furry Animal ballad and some joyous artistry throughout the sequence, entitled Procession. Taking in Elizabeth Gaskell’s Plymouth Grove-based residence and exploring Quarry Bank Mill added to my connection with the history of my hometown. It is important not just to be passionate about where you come from, but where it can take it. Knowledge is great to share.

Oddly in pre-season, I only watched Hyde Utd F.C. host Connah’s Quay Nomads F.C. (where big Andy Morrison is manager). City’s game at Brighton was fun, followed by a stubborn Everton side battling out a draw at the Etihad Stadium. Between these ties I watched City U-21s at Rotherham Utd. F.C.’s swanky ASSEAL New York Stadium. Usually, I’d go out of my way to watch more games. Sadly, I did not. I also intended to watch some rugby league and ice-hockey. Again, this did not happen. There is always next time!

TYPHOON HATO

So, having woken Mum and Paul at Stupid O’clock, we hugged farewell and I checked in at the Etihad desk. Their kind and friendly staff instantly adding brightness to an hour where the sun was just about springing over the horizon. I boarded my flight with ease and flew to my interchange at Abu Dhabi International Airport. On arrival, it was noted that I had a minor seven-hour delay. A meal was offered for my troubles. I sought solice in a good book and put my feet up. Sleep was not an option.

On arriving in Hong Kong International Airport, I collected my 30kg of baggage and walked to the train station. From here, I changed twice before arriving at Hostel Casa, a stone’s throw from a subway exit in Tsim Tsa Tsui. I ate a light dinner, catching up with Ched (who was in H.K. for a Photoshop course) before eating gooseberry yogurts, from Marks & Spencers. Then I went to sleep in the cupboard-sized but cosy room. The whole time since arriving I had seen very few people. Earlier in the day the eye of Typhoon Hato had rolled over Hong Kong, before ploughing into Guangdong ruthlessly. Nature claimed several lives that day. The storm’s trail leaving totalled trees and clattered cladding across Hong Kong. Hong Kong Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China had issued Typhoon Warning Level 10, for the first time in over a decade. The warnings had immobilised people from going outside and probably saved countless lives. Similar warnings had been issued across Guangdong too.

With a visa arranged, two nights later, I sped, slowly, on a train from Hong Kong to Changping arriving on Friday the 25th of August 2017. My pick-up by Simon at the school was smooth and I immediately dropped things into my temporary dormitory…

ROOMS FIT FOR A KING

The dormitory has so far had a replacement fridge-freezer, fan and bedding. The shower and toilet are both in urgent need of repair. The western toilet and shower both have extremely high water-pressure. Two blasts have destroyed a shower head and a U-bend sealant! The room is quite warm and A.C. My-heartsaver has been working hard alongside a fan on the highest of near-typhoon strengths. Anyway, the plan is that the room is temporary and provided by school until I find somewhere-less-located-on-school-grounds.

DAY ONE

Standing at the gate around 7.30am for 50 minutes in blistered 32°C heat with humidity so high, wasn’t all bad. Excited new students rolled by for drop-off in high-end luxury cars, yellow school buses and the odd, lesser spotted two-wheel effort. Some skipped, merry and wide awake. Others appeared dozy and out-of-routine, with school beginning just today for most.

My new school, St. Lorraine’s Anglo-Chinese School, is attached to numerous English language programme, notably Cambridge University’s language courses. Mr Lam, the Principal, has been most-welcoming. His support and that of his right-hand man Simon has been clear and concise from day one. With Mandy overseeing the teachers, and Cici assisting me in class, the year ahead is ready to take-off. Up, up and away!

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

Cat Diaries – stolen from HubHao (kind of)

oyster28catcher (JRA)

11th May 2017:

Have I been cat-napped? I say that because I’m going through a phase of culture shock. There I was minding my own business, knocking chopsticks around on the floor as if I was Lion Messi, and the next minute I’m in a cold barren apartment.

Where did it all begin? Well, I was stuffed into a dome-shaped box, barely big enough to swing a cat around in. I know, I tried. How do I know exactly? Well, I’m an Expat Cat. A British shorthair of upper class distinction. If you see H.R.H. The Queen has abandoned Corgi dogs one day and gone for a real animal, it’d be me, my kind. I’m practically a Duke. The Duke of Hengli. I’m on a diplomatic mission at the British-ish Embassy here is Dongguan. I can’t say who my Master Brewer is, but he lives in Hengli and manages a corner of the English aisle. I won’t say too much otherwise you’ll be a winner and guess where my Master Brewer is. The Master Brewer is from Hobbiton, in England. I’m not entirely sure why he is heading home, probably to have dinner with H.R.H. The Queen and the now retired Prince Philip. It’ll pave the way to my return to the U.K., no doubt.

Paws for thoughts?

Anyway, back to the here and now, and now and here. I’m in Houjie. My captive is a Sky-Blue Giant shiny-headed thing. I think he is human. I’m not so sure. He grunted and made weird noises when I put my paw in his mouth this morning. He also didn’t seem so keen to share a shower with me in the morning. The absurdity is that he went in without his fur on! The truth is that I shouldn’t have let him join me. Since we met yesterday evening, he buggered off with my Master Brewer and then returned without him. Either the Master Brewer is with H.R.H. The Queen now or Sky-Blue Giant has “put him in his pocket.” I use that phrase because whilst Sky-Blue Giant was sleeping, I heard him snoring and whispering the words, “Aaron, you’re in my pocket.” It seemed his gigantic pockets were the place to look for my Master Brewer. So, I snuck into his wardrobe. I’m good at opening sliding doors and latched doors. My secret is out now. I had a perusal of his pockets. No Master Brewer and no mystical Aaron, whoever or whatever that is.

Waking and sleeping

Sky-Blue Giant tucked himself in bed at 11pm. I believe that to have been most inconsiderate. I’d spent the previous two hours lounging around, checking out the comfy spots of my captor’s hideout. So, just as Sky-Blue Giant slipped into sleep, I checked between his toes, to see if there were any pockets. Not only did I find nothing, but I must have been a tad-heavy pawed and awoke the beast. After escaping his clasp and forced cuddles, I went on my way. I found some ordered paperwork of the Sky-Blue Giant. It made no sense so I rearranged it. Perhaps the pocket and my Master Brewer would be within. No such joy.

Today’s plan

My to do list today, is to make a to do list. I’m a cat. It took an awful lot of translation work via the good people of HubHao to get this far. Have you ever made a to do list, without opposable thumbs? I need someone to listen to me and translate the various purrs and meows perfectly. I also really want to climb the curtains…

 

12th May 2017:

Curiosity killed the cat, they say. Sorry to fool you. I’m a cat called Alexander the Great, that’s what I do… I play, play, play…

 

Day 2.

Still no word from Master Brewer. I’m not as hungry as I thought I would be. My captor, Sky-Blue Giant, has been slipping my sachets of Whiskas and some titbits from his meal last night. I do like a nibble on some fresh chicken. It seems I am also prone to a swipe of milk-covered Weetabix given the opportunity. To quote a great cat philosopher, “You snooze, you lose.” Master Brewer better be homeward bound sooner or later, but at this moment I am being fed reasonably well. Sadly, no lasagne, but times are tough being cat-napped, I tell you!

 

The gaol.

The prison, gaol and cell I am within is as far as I can tell, okay. There is a bedroom, a lounge, a kitchen with a secret door beyond it. The secret door is made of glass and doesn’t look so secret. Here a rain-making machine is housed and a small pool of blue water that Sky-Blue Giant won’t let me go near. It smells very clean indeed but he protects it like a deity. Between the rainmaker and the porcelain pool, there is a bowl where I can enjoy drips of cold freshwater. It seems a magical room, but certainly not secret. There are lengths of material hung from a rack. Or rather, there were, until yours truly decided to let gravity pull them down to earth.

 

It’s in the game.

Yawn. I was up late last night playing a game of FIFA (Feline International Football Association). I nutmegged the desk, slid a slide rule pass under the coffee table and chested one down onto a sleeping Sky-Blue Giant. For keepie-uppies, I kept him awake as much as I could. If Guangzhou R&F need a star striker, I have a mean meow that sounds like a car alarm in the early hours. I heard Sky-Blue Giant say something to the effect of, “Bleeding hell Mogwai, I’m trying to sleep, stop striking so well.” He should know my name is Alexander the Great, not Alexander Supertramp and certainly not Mogwai, whatever supposedly affectionate name that is!

 

Best foot forward.

I must admit to being unable to read and write. Please don’t think less of me for this. Illiteracy is a problem globally. Well, that said, so is literacy, judging by some other world problems. I’m thinking of enrolling in a forward thinking and international school to pick up some skills soon. I figured, I might as well because Master Brewer has left me here with Sky-Blue Giant and he can barely tie his shoe laces. Not that I can. However, I have developed a skill at shredding anything lace in format. Sky-Blue Giant’s shoes, for instance, are devoid of a pair of laces. Yes, my work.

 

Alex the Wonder Cat 3-0 Rubbish Bin

Honestly, I don’t know why he bothers? I upend the rubbish bin for a reason. The Sky-Blue Giant is clearly unware of why. He stands the rubbish bin up again and again. If only he could see why I knock it over! I am starting to think he is a fool or has an eyesight problem. Anyway, I need to stop dictating to my writer, because he’s only gone and stood the rubbish bin up again. That boys an idiot!

 

13th May 2017:

 

Hey there, “Meow”, greetings. I sacked my typist from yesterday. The title was supposed to read as The Fast & The Furrious 9 – a pun on the word fur but it wrong, and it actually resembled a real title. We had Vin Diesel call us and ask for the script. I’ve sent him two lines and some instructions for pouting. He’ll be alright. I included some polish for his abs.

 

As for Sky-Blue Giant, what an irritation he is, he comes in fussing me with those gammy-looking spade-sized hands. I worry that he hasn’t properly vetted the students at his school before he gives them a high five. Dog only knows what germs he is carrying before he touches my immaculate and flawlessly smooth fur.

 

There is still no sign of Master Brewer, but I heard Sky-Blue Giant say he landed in a far-flung land. This confirms my suspicion that he is indeed going to speak with H.R.H. The Queen about me replacing the corgi dogs – or at very least Prince Philip.

 

Last night, I assisted Sky-Blue Giant in retrieving his supply of straws, hidden here and there. I have positioned them all over the apartment-prison. I really enjoyed playing fetch with them last night. I didn’t get why a few teeth marks meant they had to be thrown in the rubbish bin. Whilst the rubbish bin has doubled up as a nemesis, it has failed to capture my precious straws. There are even some tucked under his duvet. Oh, how he’ll laugh when he rolls over in the night and find one tucked in his bottom-cheeks!

 

15th May 2017:

 

Meow. Wassup? Even in the cat world, Sunday is the day of rest. There was little need to write anything more than panic-stricken words about catching the WannaCry Virus. Thankfully, I remain uninfected. No need to do any panic urine marking and elimination habits on this occasion! Instead I’ll crack on with face rubbing the rubbish bin into submission and showing my body language to Sky-Blue Giant. I want my Master Brewer back. So much so, that 2am cat calls were needed. They were so load that even the neighbours awoke.

 

I’ve also found a new way into Sky-Blue Giant’s bed. He used to have a regular zip-up and close mosquito net. I’ve added some paw-sized ventilation holes and ensured going forward that the net has one zip less. I even tucked in another spare drinking straw. I did this after a spell of quivering my bottom and pouncing at Sky-Blue Giant as he slept. My captor deserves to be tested.

I’ve also discovered a lovely warm place to sit down, a laptop. It suits my higher-than-human body temperature. The keypad is a tad rough but the entertainment level isn’t bad. Cat videos are everywhere. I think Sky-Blue Giant is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to a ring of cat captors.

 

 

And the other thing about the internet, is he shares my photos everywhere. He never even asked my permission. Beware of my sinister green glowing tapetum lucidum. I like Sky-Blue Giant taking photos, I hope they spook him out before bedtime. Then, he’ll be softened up for my nightly swipes at his chunky toes.

 

Amongst my vocabulary there are many signals I pass on. Yet, Sky-Blue Giant meows back at me in the worst kind of way. My meows have meaning. His are utter gibberish. Proper offensive too. Whatever he is trying to say, I feel he is a fool. I wish Master Brewer was here. He’d sort him out with some proper language training. That said Sky-Blue Giant, with his 100 head hairs to my 130,000 per square inch is so inferior to me. He uses two wooden sticks to eat his food. I just use my mouth. The Plonker!

 

18th May 2017:

 

 

 

Hello there, it is me again, Alexander The Great, cat of the day, so to speak. Today, I am giving you the lowdown on some news sweeping the nation and globe. I’ve put down my differences with chasing the red laser and decided to help you get a clear and simple view of today’s breaking news. It is everywhere. Look here is a photo to show the world impact.

 

 

 

I for one, as a member of the cat family, do not like dogs so much. That being said, I do like a good old game of cat and dog chase. We’re like that. I’m the same with mice, but in that case, the mice usually end up as a gift for Master Brewer or a snack for myself. Not that I have ever seen a mouse! I’ve only seen one mouse on a documentary-drama about a clumsy cat called Tom and his problematic friend of a mouse called Jerry.

 

 

 

The problem of journalism, is like my meowing, what does it all mean? Where are the facts? It can be as hard as breaking through a mosquito-net at 4am in the morning to pounce on Sky-Blue Giant to wake him up. So, to help, here are some facts, followed by some questions, with answers. No speculation and no padding out for fun. I’m a busy cat, I have things to lick.

 

 


Dog Meat – The facts:

 

  • Nationally, it is illegal to sell dog meat for human consumption.
  • The Chinese Ministry of Agriculture have placed no quarantine procedures for the slaughtering of dogs.
  • Selling dog meat contravenes the Animal Epidemic Prevention Law.
  • Selling dog meat contravenes the Food Safety Law.
  • Eating dog meat (狗肉 gǒu ròu; fragrant meat 香肉 xiāng ròu; Earth mutton – 地羊 dì yáng) has been historically present for thousands of years within China, as far back as 500BCE.
  • Dog meat has been consumed in times of food scarcities, such as conflicts.

 

 

Why all the worry?

 

In recent times, many pet dogs have been dog-napped. Chinese Police have worked hard and have scored well-documented hits against illegal slaughterhouses. Chinese activists and friends, of pet dogs and cats too, have worked tirelessly with authorities to crack down on the trade of caged dogs and cats. In 2014, Police arrested and imprisoned 11 people for poisoning dogs and then selling the poisoned meat onwards.

 

 

Is this festival in the news a very old traditional affair?

 

Beginning on the 21st June 2009, less than a decade ago, the

Lychee and Dog Meat Festival (玉林荔枝狗肉节) started. It was started by local restaurants and the public. Not, as often mistakenly reported by foreign media, by the local municipal government. The festival lasts around 10 days.

 

 

Who has been helping to save the dogs and cats?

 

In 2015, one defender of the four-legged kind paid 7,000RMB for 100 dogs. This is a case replicated massively in the following year with news reports of thousands of dogs bought and rehomed. Also, Weibo (and globally on Twitter) net-based citizens cranked messages left, right and centre pushing to end the massacre of dogs and cats for food. The Chinese Minister of Agriculture has received a huge petition titled as per below:

 

“Do the humane thing by saying no to this festival and save the lives of countless dogs that will fall victim to this event – an event that will butcher, skin alive, beat to death etc. thousands of innocent dogs.”

 

 

 

Who are the Chinese Companion Animal Protection Network (CCAPN)?

 

They love pets. Who doesn’t?! They are made up of more than 40 societies. Their activities started up the road in Guangzhou, during 2006, and their movement has gained support nationally ever since. A local restaurant to the city, serving dog meat, since 1963 shut their doors in 2015. Others followed their lead.

 

 

 

 

Has anyone noticed animal rights are improving on China?

 

Jill Robinson, the 1998 founder of Animals Asia Foundation, was quoted as saying, “In many ways, the animal welfare movement in China is maturing far faster than it ever did in the West.”

 

 

 

In 2009, the Animal protection law of the People’s Republic of China came about. In recent years, celebrities such as Yao Ming (姚明) have supported a nationwide campaign to eradicate the illegal trade of rhinoceros horn and elephant tusks. Yao Ming is also an ambassador for elephant conservation. The Chinese government works closely with “Say No” Campaign with partners African Wildlife Foundation and WildAid.

 

 

 

​Many Chinese stars such as Jackie Chan and Lǐ Bīngbīng (李冰冰) have assisted too.

 

 

What could happen if someone eats dog meat?

 

The 2010 legislation included a measure to jail people for up to 15 days for eating dog meat.

 

 

Does dog or cat meat make you more fertile?

 

Torturing animals raises stress levels. Toxicity levels and harmful chemicals rise in the bloodstream. Good luck with that one. The meat has never been proven to taste better but has been shown to cause heart conditions in people… amongst a huge list of possible illnesses caused by dog consumption

 

 

So, there you have it, everything you needed to know

 

21st May 2017:

Meow.

 

I’m a cat. I cannot count. I’ve tried. Every time I look at my toes it is a reminder of all those red dots that have evaded me over the years. I also feel I am due a visit to my pedicurist. I keep swiping at various dangling things and Sky-Blue Giant knows it. Every now and then I catch a claw on some near-invisible netting. Ooooh the pain!

 

I’ve been munching on squishy meat in jelly and dry cereal since my captor removed me from the care of Master Brewer. I refused the fresh salmon offering Sky-Blue Giant put before me on principle. I have since weaved in and out of his legs in the hope of knocking down the giant. It worked for a bloke named Jack, star of the biopic, Jack and The Beanstalk, I think. If I don’t bring him down, I’ll hope that his sofa collapses as a result of my clawing at the material. The slow method may be my only hope.

 

With a view, from the door to this prison opening-up, I spotted a dog wandering by. The half-witted canine looked at me and yelped. He ran off. He could have at least assisted me in getting out of here. If it wasn’t for the super strong netting at the door, I’d be out. I watch the tony flies struggle in vain to find a hole in. What I need is a mouse to wander in, somehow. If I can pounce on it, decapitate it and show Sky-Blue Giant my capabilities. It’ll strike fear into his heart. He’ll sleep poorly and decide to release me. Oh, how I want to escape! Where are you Master Brewer?

 

Meow.

 

Alexander the Great

 

26th May 2017:

Meow.

Sky-Blue Giant is a sly one. Three days ago, Chinese scientists aboard the JiaoLong submersible accompanied by Xinhua journalist Liu Shiping, dived to 4,811 metres below the sea. I, Alexander the Great was whisked away in a basket last night. I could share sea stories about cramped conditions. As the scientists marvelled at “shooting stars” of Euphausiid plankton, I didn’t enjoy a ride in the back of a car. Those underwater explorers stared on at sweater, rocks and sea cucumbers. They enjoyed the company of a sponge and two starfish. I just had my tail and my mysterious second catnapper.

On arrival, I put my differences aside and embraced this Little Red Riding Hood of a catnapper. I suspect that Master Brewer will never return. He has probably left me for a younger kitten. If I catch that kitten, it’ll be despatched to the Mariana Trench. One way. Speaking of a good dinner. I hear American beef is making a return to China. Yes, after 13 years of absence, the U.S. Department of Agriculture said they are talking with China, and hoping have the first consignment over here by July the 16th… hey Little Red Riding Hood, fancy grabbing me a steak? Whilst China has written 117 pages as a wish list. I just demand the beef is tasty. This will add huge competition from Brazil and Australia for beef exports to China… my lips are firmly being licked.

Read more about beef at: https://www.agweb.com/article/china-writes-117-page-wish-list-for-us-trade-blmg/

Anyway, I have a new set of wardrobe doors to prize open. There are places I must flick my ping pong balls and laser lights to be caught. Today is a brief but important message. I’ll leave by sending a message to my new catnapper:

I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. If you are looking for cuddles, I can tell you I don’t have anything to hug. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long stay with Sky-Blue Giant. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let me go now, that’ll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will scratch you when you sleep.

Meow.

Alexander the Great.