tradition

Subcutaneous Optimism.

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How do! Nihao! 你好～

Yesterday evening I received my 11th pokey hole. Subcutaneous injection to the stomach number 6 went smoothly. The spectacled nurse grabbed some belly flab, didn’t hesitate and squirted the Heparin into the belly muscle and fat. This new nurse to me did not mess around. From arrival at the bee’s foot to departure was comparable to that of an F1 car having its wheels changed in a race.

Following breakfast, Doctor (Hu?) and Dean (Wang?) did their rounds. I feel much better today. Optimism has been manufactured well. The Dean and the Doctor said my lung is subtotal (not at full capacity) and the right leg trauma was recent (but I’ve not experienced anything bad). I did mention the calf tear two years ago. He said it’s possible but unlikely, unless there are recent micro tears.

The Dean also suggested I was drunk and fell over but truth be told I’ve only drank at the craft beer festival (and that was small glasses but not too numerous. Maybe 7 glasses). The medical professionals must have seen similar to suggest such a thing, but aside from a few drinks at Katherine and Stephen’s in early October, and the Here! Dongguan craft beer festival, I’ve avoided booze. Just not been my thing lately. I prefer a casual chilled out beer from time to time, like watching the Revolution band at Irene’s Bar before the October holidays.

The Dean mentioned two weeks here and to be patient. Those three to five days became seven and now it could be a fortnight. It is what it is. Just like the 12th pokey which was another belly injection. Yet another nurse arrived. I could see air in the top of the fluid. Must be safe though. It wasn’t the calmest or the most comfortable injection. It is what it is.

All of this on Guy Fawkes Night. It’s enough to make you put a mask on and go crazy. The masks featured in V for Vendetta (graphic novel and movie) are based on Guido Fawkes. He fought for the Spanish too. His group’s plan to reinstall a Catholic monarch didn’t work. The protagonists of the Gunpowder Plot were provisional terrorists of their time. Your man Guy was snitched on by anonymous note and captured. Tortured. Convicted. Sentenced. He didn’t get hung (as duch), he did get drawn and quartered (postmortem) because he conveniently fell off the scaffolding. The agony of losing bits like genitals didn’t happen as that slip or jump gave Guy a merciful end. Nevertheless his body parts were scattered to four corners of the kingdom, both as “prey for the fowls of the air” (Fraser, Antonia (2005) [1996], The Gunpowder Plot, Phoenix, ISBN) and to warn off other treasonous swines.

These days British celebration of failure involves toffee apples, parkin cake, bonfires, effigy burning (like in Lewes), and processions. The Observance of 5th November Act 1605 means to celebrate this failed treason was law but by the 25th March 1859 it was repealed. A fairer world. However, Bonfire Night carried on. I recall many damp autumn nights filled with sickening smoke from too many fireworks and bonfires killing the dreams of the unborn Greta Thurnburg. In later years I tired of the bonfire and funfair commercialism and sought to see the artistic firework displays. Still, they’re special days. It’s just a shame they’re mostly so commercial. It is what it is.

Guy Fawkes 13 April 1570 – 31 January 1606. He was what he was.

Ta’ra! Zai jian! 再见～

Their gaff, their rules?

acton28Leave a comment

How do! / 你好 (nĭ hăo) / Namaste / Welcome!

“If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.” – George Washington

Before I write any more, firstly, I need to clarify that I hate the idea of animals suffering. Actually, it forms one of the reasons why right now I do not have a pet. If I cannot be certain where I will live within twelve months, how can I look after a cat, dog or hamster? I’ve been lucky enough in my life to be raised around animals. My Dad and Mum gave me Pup, who was with me for about 17 years of my life as man’s best friend, a wonderful dog. There were cats along the way, Basil (think of a detective that was a rodent), Sparky and Tigger (original, right?). I had umpteen hamsters: Bright Eyes, Stripe, Gizmo and Gremlin to name but a few. Astrid, my sister, will tell you of her hamster Doris, and how she selected it on the basis that it bit her bigger brother (me) in the pet store. There were mice, bred and rehoused, with responsible intentions. I had fleeting dreams of being a vet – but for a huge dislike of blood. Then, it was time to study a BTEC National Diploma at North Trafford College and eventually study a BSc Behavioural Biology. Since then, my wildlife and animal passion has evolved into a pastime, set of interests and hobbies. The professional world was oversubscribed, underpaid and hard to escape clicks. It wasn’t for me. Instead I find myself softly influencing future generations and making people think twice.

“I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”- S.G. Tallentyre, The Friends of Voltaire.

Stumbling into education with transferable skills just meant I swapped elephant dung in the morning for a whole raft of new pooh. I’m in China, their gaff their rules. But I can talk freely about some topical issues. What is a wet market? Well, it’s just a marketplace that sells fish, meats, vegetables, and fruits. The produce is not dry (like fabric or electronics). The goods at wet markets are perishable. Not all wet markets slaughter animals or have a fishmongers. Across the Indian subcontinent (e.g. Thailand), China, Japan, Korea and the island countries northwest of Australia, wet markets can be found and are a common feature of daily life. Foods can be fresh, cheaper than supermarkets, and going to these markets themselves can be a huge part of your social life. It is tantamount to culture and traditions for many people. To close many wet markets may be seen as xenophobic and cause more problems. But, will these same wet markets yield the next outbreak?

Wang Mengyun’s video of a bat being eaten in Palau has become infamous. It is disgusting in my opinion. What adds further disgust is that RT and the Daily Mail, amongst many, posted this via news outlets and social media claiming it was from Wuhan. I was even sent it on the Chinese app Wechat. I’m not justifying or defending her, or any other fools eating weird crap. Data and images can easily fit any story, without, erm, actual information. Of course, if China is involved, then there’s always an element of menace and worry from a social point of view. What exactly are they up to over there?

The wet market here hasn’t reopened (and many will never reopen, as many are rumpured as marked for demolition, to be replaced by more sanitized versions) which is great. I’m actually excited for when it does because they have limited the list of edible species right down. You wouldn’t believe the list before. There was no list. It could have been likened to taking a walk in a zoo. Except, that zoo was closer to The Green Mile, and all the inmates were destined for the grimmest of chops. Owls, giant salamanders and frogs may not appear on the menu in Beijing, but across this large nation of China, there are huge differences in diets. Here in Guangdong, it is said that the Cantonese eat everything with four legs, excluding chairs and desks.

Afterall the list isn’t far off what is approved as meat in the U.K. The most exotic things are to be found all over Britain such as ostrich, deer, reindeer, alpaca etc. Sadly, the list still includes fur species: mink, foxes and raccoons. BUT activism and conservation are growing here. Thoughts are changing. Many influential and middle-class people really believe that bigger changes are coming. Conservation and animal welfare are some of the few things people can protest here. The WHO advised China to “sell safe food with better hygiene”. That seems to be triggering a huge revolution in hygiene. There’s revulsion at the rich who can afford palm civet soup, braised bear paws and deep-fried cobra. These rarities are not farmed or caught for everyone. There’s status and face to show off, and keeping up with the Joneses is on the menu. Rebecca Wong explains in her book about the illegal wildlife trade that things are far from simple.

The China Biodiversity Conservation and Green Development Foundation is pushing for an end to meats from wild sources. Many cities such as Shenzhen and several provinces are banning the sale of wild-sourced meats – yet China only has a temporary ban in place (and that excludes use for Traditional Chinese Medicines – T.C.M.). Is the ban effective? Well, The Daily Mail, managed to get images and a journalist into Guilin, Guangxi province and show dogs alongside cats, with T.C.M. posters showing bats. The W.H.O., the U.N.’s Convention on Biological Diversity, have called on China to do more.

China’s Wildlife Protection Law to permanently make catching and eating wildlife as a food into a criminal law will follow. The decision’s first real steps had been made on February 24th 2020. It is expected the list of 54 wild species bred on farms will be further reduced. Do people really need to eat hamsters and bird of prey? Do these horrific farms need abolishing? Does the farm license from The State Forestry and Grassland Administration conflict with their interest in wildlife protection? Places like Guangzhou and this province of Guangdong will need to seriously rearrange their eating habits. Chinese news sources, backed and owned by the state, have decried the practice of eating wildlife. One such piece, China Daily, went further than most with an English opinion piece by author Wu Yong. He correctly pointed to the Institute of Virology of the Chinese Academy of Sciences (home base: Wuhan) and their publications warning of the next big outbreak, following SARS in 2012. There are voices from within China banging a drum to the same beat: stop eating wildlife (50% of people surveyed in 2014 said wild animals should not be eaten). And should the laws come how vague will they be? How will provinces, cities and local areas enforce the laws? Who will steady the balance books of those who need the income?

“Without freedom of thought, there can be no such thing as wisdom – and no such thing as public liberty without freedom of speech.” – Benjamin Franklin

It is easy to say that wild animals carry viruses, and should they not be eaten by people, then there is little to no chance of these zoonotic viruses affecting human lives. If we do, then the viruses are with us. But, how many viruses start on farms from long-term domestic animals? Think Pandemic H1N1/09 virus and its outbreak from Mexico/U.S.A. in 2009 that killed about 151,700-575,400 people globally, according to the CDC. The problem is that for some their eyes are bigger than their bellies. They don’t want you and I, or others telling them what is right or wrong. For some status and entitlement is paramount. Why can a rich U.S. hunter go and shoot a lion in Africa, when a poor villager can’t catch pangolin in Vietnam to support their family? Will bans work? Will the trade go from loosely regulated to completely underground shady dealings? “Psst, wanna but a civet?” What is a civet anyway? I imagine many having seen a pangolin too. Look them both up. They’re wonderful little critters. Just don’t grill them!

“It is clear that not in one thing alone, but in many ways equality and freedom of speech are a good thing.” – Herodotus

China has endured food safety scandals, unusual additives being included in food, a distrust of food regulation, corruption and countless public health appeals and campaigns seeking to improve standards. If you live here long enough, you’ll know having diarrhea tablets to be most useful. Food poisoning happens and at public ad even private restaurants, finding hand soap can be a miracle. Everyone carries hand sanitiser and tissues, but few look forwards to visiting an outside toilet. To get to the modern regulation systems of the U.K. standards, the U.K. under the name of Great Britain and its Empire had many flaws and faults. Many want change but it will take time. Not every country is perfect, some wash their chicken in chlorine, don’t you America? Tradition and odd ingredients need talking about, at least. Without conversation and debate, how can we as people strike a balance between nature and need?

This pandemic is always going to throw up many questions. Should all wet markets adapt and abandon tradition in favour of hygiene and high standards? Yes, for the sake of humanity, surely! Should we be searching for the next big pandemic? Should we be vaccinating our pets and our zoo animals when the cure to COVID-19 arrives? Will the virus replicate and mutate in other domestic animals? Have we ignored the warnings (2017 and so on) for too long? Will wildlife poaching rise in the shadow of little eco-tourism? How many more lies will the internet spread about handwashing?

“We have to go see Bill Gates and a lot of different people that really understand what’s happening. We have to talk to them, maybe in certain areas, closing that Internet up in some way. Somebody will say, ‘Oh, freedom of speech, freedom of speech.’ These are foolish people. We have a lot of foolish people.” – Donald Trump, Twitter user.

Keep talking. It’s the only way to progress.

 

The cover image: chicken anus on a stick. From a Taiwanese takeaway store, in China.

 

They’re Here To Save The World?

acton28Leave a comment

你好 (nĭ hăo) / Namaste / Welcome!

Let’s start with goats. Goats at the seaside to be precise. Smooth Kashmiri goats popped own from the Great Orme for a bite to eat in sleepy Llandudno. Not once, but twice. Twitter and Andrew Stuart have been following this closely.

Dana Barrett: “That’s the bedroom, but nothing ever happened in there.”
Peter Venkman: “What a crime.”
Lines from Ghostbusters (1984).

Bin linings are being reported as medical head covers. Clinical bin liners are also being used to cover feet. Aprons, basic kind, no special functions too. Welcome to the modern NHS that is reported battling COVID-19 with improvisation. Reports of doctors and nurses being told to go from wards with COVID-19 patients to wards with no reported cases. Staff breaking down in tears. Mental health of our heroes under so much pressure. At home and abroad. That leads me to the saddest news I’ve read today, and there is so much to choose from, so much pain and suffering now. The suicide of Daniela Trezzi. The National Federation of Nurses of Italy reported that the 34-year-old nurse was worried she’d transmit COVID-19 to others. 5.670 nurses and other medical or healthcare workers have been infected by COVID-19. They are the frontline. They are under immense stress and trauma. They need support, everywhere.

The gamble of delaying lockdowns and social distancing, in favour of herd immunity is now in full swing. The UK leadership reacted too slowly, and their herd are now suffering. Some will be lambs to the slaughter. Others will be asymptomatic. Some will get a tough flu. Some will remain with damaged lungs. All will know somebody who has or had COVID-19. Now, the tricky part. How many are ready to bury their loved ones? There won’t be many, if any. Few will need to inter because this virus will require cremations for the dead. Lay to rest your worries because if you are six feet under, your government will carry on regardless. They won’t put in the ground changes for one person. Your loved ones will carry on. They will have no choice. This government will secrete and conceal its failings, opting to cover over cracks and protect the economy at all costs. As Oasis sang, in Half The World Away, “I would like to leave this city; This old town don’t smell too pretty and; I can feel the warning signs running around my mind…”

Christina helped me Skype Dad. So happy to talk to my Dad. Miss him. Miss all my family and not knowing when I can return home to see them all is tough. BUT, we’re at war now. Time to soldier on. Some might say we will find a brighter day – cheers Oasis. This one brief video call does raise my spirits dramatically. I’m not yet skipping and skinging, but I’m certainly less slouching tiger, hidden madman. I’m now flitting between previously downloaded TV series and making video classes for class 3F’s online education. Series 1 and series 5 of Inside No. 9 have been watched. The first episode of the fifth season is titled, ‘The Referees a…’ so that’s why I skipped series 2 through 4. Maria delivering my laptop from my apartment was a great relief. Although wi-fi here is mostly off and the phone signal is up and down like a yoyo. Thankfully before the summer, I’d downloaded many videos in advance.

“Brothers and sisters in shit, I present to you another double banana! This double banana is a sign that you should never give up, and that good things await for you. the beautiful thing about never giving up, is that you have to try it just once, and then its forever, because you never give up.” – Shittyflute,YouTube.

Today, I ate a twin banana. A double banana. I have never seen one before. On unsheathing the mammoth yellow fruit, I pealed back the skin to reveal two perfect bananas, side by side, with the tiniest gap and no bonding between the two. What witchcraft was this? I quickly consulted the WTF hotline and spoke with Dr Google. The good doctor threw up a pregnancy myth as the first of 33,000,000 results in 0.48 seconds. I fail to believe that many webpages contain even a waft of twin bananas. Women’s Health and Wellness stuck to the top of the hits. I clicked it. I was visitor 201119. I’m not a woman but I read on regardless. It seems in the Philippines that to eat such a double banana is believed to produce Siamese twins. A myth according to Desiree F. Manlapaz-Gonzales, MD. The only valuable information I gathered was that a twin banana has about 20% of your necessary daily value in potassium. Now I just need a further four twin bananas. I didn’t click the link on the left of the page marked as CANE VINEGAR for the treatment of VAGINAL PROBLEMS…

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Regarding the foods within quarantine, if the toilet pipes block here, that’s me tipping corn congee, on a daily basis; flicking corn from my lunch and generally burying the uneaten corn as far away from my single-use plastics as possible. Food has been a mixture of just good enough, and adequate. There isn’t anything to rave about, but I wouldn’t moan too much about it either. The hotel’s range in sustenance and fodder are more varied than some other people will be experiencing these days. I’m lucky. Three meals a day, plus the option to have food delivered where needed. I can’t complain.

It isn’t easy to overlook what world leaders are doing and saying, or who is blaming who, but if we all react to this then they win. They’ve distracted us. From the moment I boarded a flight back to China, I’ve seen nothing but professionalism and dedication to ending the spread of this disease and virus here. I’m a guest in China. I’m British. I love my hometown and I’m a slightly proud Mancunian (the people of Manchester) and it pains me to see what is happening back home, and, that I can do little to help my family and friends now. So, here I am, luckily. A lucky one. A fortunate one. I am in quarantine because I cannot risk the lives of my second home. Dongguan is looking after me, and I respect that. I just wish I had better Wi-Fi, but I can’t be in a bad place with three square meals and a roof over my head. Remember, the control of this outbreak is still going on, and we can’t take chances.

“Gozer the Gozerian? Good evening. As a duly-designated representative of the City, County and State of New York, I order you to cease any and all supernatural activity and return forthwith to your place of origin, or to the next convenient parallel dimension.” – Ray Stantz, character in Ghostbusters (a movie from 1984)

We can’t distrust the use of Traditional Chinese Medicines (TCMs), or modern medicines, or possible new cures, or experimental treatments. What works for one, may not work for others, but let’s not label everything as bobbins (a Mancunian term meaning not good). Anyway, it is good to be back in Dongguan, despite the circumstances. I hope everybody here has come from this stronger – and as I said back when it all started in Wuhan, stay strong, really, stay strong.

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Unfortunately, the first four days in isolation were very long. I’d read plenty of Jack Reacher pages by the author Lee Child. I’m certainly ploughing my way through that series. I’d occupied myself with some lifting (the desk, a chair, a sofa and a smaller coffee table), some hops (over hurdles made by two beds paced evenly), some star jumps, and generally making a pratt or myself. My dim-witted hours seemed to last for hours. I know deep down people are in far worse places, but all I could experience and understand in those moments was myself being useless and clueless. I spent more time on my phone than ever before. I began to become worried that I’d leave here with eagle-like claw hands. After two weeks in quarantine, I might become a Lego man.

Fortunately, Maria delivered my laptop computer on day five. So, at least I could type some crap. Some snacks were also in a bag alongside bananas and blueberries.

Unfortunately, the Wi-Fi here is mostly down to zero and my phone internet isn’t 4G or even 3G at the minute. Things upload and download slower than a sloth breakdancing on a dance machine in an arcade.

Fortunately, a neighbouring room has allowed me to use their hotspot from time to time.

Unfortunately, I ache from lack of activity and cannot find ways to stay sprightly.

Fortunately, when I am free of quarantine, I’m going to be far more active than ever before.

Unfortunately, Newcastle Utd FC became the first Premier League club to put staff in furlough as coronavirus causes financial squeeze. Mike Ashley has never been known for generosity.

Fortunately, Vincent Kompany is supporting the staff and players as they take cuts at Anderlecht whilst revenues are off the cards.

Unfortunately, masks are only now be advised at UK hospitals. Staff absences care at record levels. Even Trump is laying into Boris Johnson. The Express ran a bizarre April Fool’s piece about Brexit not being delayed. Yawn. Much bigger things to do, right now…

Fortunately, Joe Wicks is making PE lessons and donations are reaching the NHS.

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Here in quarantine spirits are good, despite a fire alarm and some late night movie watching which echoed down the corridor ruining my sleep. Also, no sharp things are allowed and there is a no alcohol rule. As long as there are no Grêmio or Internacional rivalries brewing, one nail file should be okay, but sadly no booze. None. Not a drop. A dry hotel with no opportunity to step beyond the bedroom door. Only 450RMB a night, remember. The swimming pool is closed outside, which is just as well, considering it has fish, algae and snakes on the pool’s edge. And cats that probably pooh on the mouldy deckchairs.

My sleep is odd. I can’t sleep so easily. I find my body suddenly decides 01:00hrs is a time for a jog around the 5m x 7m room. Even setting the alarm for the breakfast delivery at 07:40 isn’t hard. I wake up before the hazmat-suited guard drops the food and dashes away from my door. The temperature checks are between 9am and 10am, and then 8pm to 9pm. I have little to look forwards to or get excited about. It is all rather dull, but as I said, and as I will maintain, I’m not risking my life on any frontline like brave medics around the world and I’m not homeless sleeping in a social distancing-marked car park in Las Vegas.

There are supplies and things in the room: bottles of water, shampoo, shower gel, washing up liquid for laundry, toilet rolls (I have 13 spare), a kettle, a fan, a television with CGTN (a Chinese perspective of the global news), a two-seater sofa (I’m alone and no company is allowed), two single beds (see previous entry), an air conditioner (disabled, because they can cause viruses to spread), two vented and permanently opened windows, two cups (no spoon), a serving tray, a chair with a desk and two new towels of various sizes. There is a small coffee table, a wardrobe, a bucket and a sink bowl. They all have uses. Mostly mundane uses. Rather like this writing. That’s all folks. No massive ending or crescendo of purpose. Just this.

The end.

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