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Syndicate DisOrientated
OED adj. confused (someone) so that that they have lost their bearings.
n. Inept escapades of a dropout English journo trapped in the Far East. An eighteen-month evasion from reality.
30 November 2003
What do they do. What do they actually do?
I was a student at one of the toughest universities in the Western world. Yet still, at least once a week (if not more) I found time to wander down to the college bar, down seven pints of 6X, get slapped and fall over on the Chapel quad lawn.
Joe and I spent two hours tonight searching the Guoding Lu area for student bars. An area, what with both Fudan and SHUFE in a 500 yard strip, we estimated must have a student waster population of 50,000.
In Britain or the US entrepreneurial aspiring landlords would be engaged in a bloody turf war. Gunshots would be ringing throughout the night as the protection gangs struggled for supremacy. It would be a lucrative goldmine of young fools longing to easily part with their unearned cash. But here... nothing. Nothing.
We did find one place, the inaptly named 'Cambridge Dreaming' that was still under construction. The barmaid was ecstatic about our presence, especially when we left to find somewhere less dead and ended up having to return for another Qingdao Lite. We were given free beer samples and forcibly invited back to the promised upturn after the building work finishes in a fortnight. Maybe we will, seemed like it it had potential.
But it still doesn't anser the question: what do these kids do? They can't study all the time. In fact, it's evident that they're not studying for my classes at all. I need to know the answer, for their sanity as well as my own.
I was a student at one of the toughest universities in the Western world. Yet still, at least once a week (if not more) I found time to wander down to the college bar, down seven pints of 6X, get slapped and fall over on the Chapel quad lawn.
Joe and I spent two hours tonight searching the Guoding Lu area for student bars. An area, what with both Fudan and SHUFE in a 500 yard strip, we estimated must have a student waster population of 50,000.
In Britain or the US entrepreneurial aspiring landlords would be engaged in a bloody turf war. Gunshots would be ringing throughout the night as the protection gangs struggled for supremacy. It would be a lucrative goldmine of young fools longing to easily part with their unearned cash. But here... nothing. Nothing.
We did find one place, the inaptly named 'Cambridge Dreaming' that was still under construction. The barmaid was ecstatic about our presence, especially when we left to find somewhere less dead and ended up having to return for another Qingdao Lite. We were given free beer samples and forcibly invited back to the promised upturn after the building work finishes in a fortnight. Maybe we will, seemed like it it had potential.
But it still doesn't anser the question: what do these kids do? They can't study all the time. In fact, it's evident that they're not studying for my classes at all. I need to know the answer, for their sanity as well as my own.
29 November 2003
Thinking that it was in fact early afternoon, dragged myself out of bed at 10.00am to find my alarm clock had finally given up. Cooked up a bowl of dumplings with vinegar. Am beginning to go native.
Armed with my cameras and some inspiration via Foxmachia, finally set out to explore the local area. Hongkou, the district I live in, is kind of Shanghai's answer to Islington. There's some down to earth history here, but most of the poulace seem well-to-do and cosmopolitan. There's also a spanking great football stadium on a par with Highbury.
Passing under a stylised gate, I found myself in Duolun Lu 'Cultural Street', an area with a permeating influence comme l'arondissement Francais. Lined with pseudo-European, pseudo-Oriental architecture, the area was a welcome break from the more touristy sectors of the city.
Arts and crafts not specifically designed with the Western tourist in mind were on sale in street stalls. Now and again, a bicycle would pass laden with ornamental bouqets. An art gallery was selling Suzhou embroidery. There's plenty more I must have missed.
I discovered an antique shop, where after protracted negotiation I acquired a Little Red Book, an English translation printed in 1966 at the height of the Cultural Revolution. Thrown in at the eventual price of 50 RMB (US$6) with this were a another very little Little Red Book and a CCP badge. Consider that a reasonable deal.
Enticed by a sign advertising the 'English Sunflower Village' I made my way into Lu Xun park. Another enclave of relative normality in this hyperactive city. A waterfall and a lake, despite their artificiality, almost conjured an illusion of being outside the urban jungle for a moment.
Elderly people exercised on the adventure playground-style area, struck up impromptu choirs and orchestras or played Mah Jong or cards. Small crowds gethered around these small spectacles. Elsewhere a sign memorably pointed out the park rules; "visitors must not urinate or shit in the park". For real.
Lu Xun himself was a big golden carp in China's medium-sized literary pond. The museum in his memory was modern and left impressed, not with Lu Xun's idealogy, but with how much effort went into a display that was ultimately so tedious. Plenty CCP spin, something I cannot help but read as ironic, parodic and paradoxical these days.
Acknowledged as one of China's most influential 20th century writers, he himself never owned The Little Red Book.
Armed with my cameras and some inspiration via Foxmachia, finally set out to explore the local area. Hongkou, the district I live in, is kind of Shanghai's answer to Islington. There's some down to earth history here, but most of the poulace seem well-to-do and cosmopolitan. There's also a spanking great football stadium on a par with Highbury.
Passing under a stylised gate, I found myself in Duolun Lu 'Cultural Street', an area with a permeating influence comme l'arondissement Francais. Lined with pseudo-European, pseudo-Oriental architecture, the area was a welcome break from the more touristy sectors of the city.
Arts and crafts not specifically designed with the Western tourist in mind were on sale in street stalls. Now and again, a bicycle would pass laden with ornamental bouqets. An art gallery was selling Suzhou embroidery. There's plenty more I must have missed.
I discovered an antique shop, where after protracted negotiation I acquired a Little Red Book, an English translation printed in 1966 at the height of the Cultural Revolution. Thrown in at the eventual price of 50 RMB (US$6) with this were a another very little Little Red Book and a CCP badge. Consider that a reasonable deal.Enticed by a sign advertising the 'English Sunflower Village' I made my way into Lu Xun park. Another enclave of relative normality in this hyperactive city. A waterfall and a lake, despite their artificiality, almost conjured an illusion of being outside the urban jungle for a moment.
Elderly people exercised on the adventure playground-style area, struck up impromptu choirs and orchestras or played Mah Jong or cards. Small crowds gethered around these small spectacles. Elsewhere a sign memorably pointed out the park rules; "visitors must not urinate or shit in the park". For real.
Lu Xun himself was a big golden carp in China's medium-sized literary pond. The museum in his memory was modern and left impressed, not with Lu Xun's idealogy, but with how much effort went into a display that was ultimately so tedious. Plenty CCP spin, something I cannot help but read as ironic, parodic and paradoxical these days.
Acknowledged as one of China's most influential 20th century writers, he himself never owned The Little Red Book.
28 November 2003
The relief of finally getting on top of things you've let slip. E-mails cleared, pages updated, lectures cancelled, interviews arranged.
If only I could motivate myself to a) travel and b) prepare lessons for the students. After all, these are hardly the main reasons I came here...
My old article on Armour Your Car is up and ready for your perusal too. Doesn't look like it'll sell, but a worthwhile effort in the light of the Bush cavalcade. George W. Bush, that is, not what you're thinking...
Student weirdness quite muted today. Giggly Korean Mandy presented me with one of those stomach curdling sweet-bean flavoured rice sponge cakes for breakfast this morning. This is an advance on the biscuit last week and the lukewarm tin of coffee the week before. But I am clearly into a good thing.
Jailbait Beryl, on the other hand, presented me with an essay on globalisation she needed correcting. Spot the contrast. She did redeem herself by thanking me profusely, and with copious exaggeration, so I must have taught them something at least.
As mentioned above, also made the arrangements with mini-moppet Shelley (left) for next week's ground-breaking interview with the university TV station. The adulation.
When I say TV I mean DVD. They are actually going to burn the interview (with a live audience!) straight onto plastic. Kind of like a flim that's so dismal it goes straight to video. Pirating is so rife that even the university hacks are into it here. Gawd bless.
If only I could motivate myself to a) travel and b) prepare lessons for the students. After all, these are hardly the main reasons I came here...
My old article on Armour Your Car is up and ready for your perusal too. Doesn't look like it'll sell, but a worthwhile effort in the light of the Bush cavalcade. George W. Bush, that is, not what you're thinking...
Student weirdness quite muted today. Giggly Korean Mandy presented me with one of those stomach curdling sweet-bean flavoured rice sponge cakes for breakfast this morning. This is an advance on the biscuit last week and the lukewarm tin of coffee the week before. But I am clearly into a good thing.
Jailbait Beryl, on the other hand, presented me with an essay on globalisation she needed correcting. Spot the contrast. She did redeem herself by thanking me profusely, and with copious exaggeration, so I must have taught them something at least.
As mentioned above, also made the arrangements with mini-moppet Shelley (left) for next week's ground-breaking interview with the university TV station. The adulation. When I say TV I mean DVD. They are actually going to burn the interview (with a live audience!) straight onto plastic. Kind of like a flim that's so dismal it goes straight to video. Pirating is so rife that even the university hacks are into it here. Gawd bless.
27 November 2003
My first Thanksgiving. Oh how twee. Like my first bicycle but without the stabilisers.
Good food, good company, 'good times', though the 15 RMB 'Boat of Love' wine turned out to be worse than gutrot. As usual, lines of conversation turned to differences between the UK and US. Sometimes I feel as alien among them as I do among the Chinese...
My invitation to appear on the student TV station finally arrived, while my ill-conceived lecture on English traditions has been cancelled. I await Tuesday with bated breath.
Good food, good company, 'good times', though the 15 RMB 'Boat of Love' wine turned out to be worse than gutrot. As usual, lines of conversation turned to differences between the UK and US. Sometimes I feel as alien among them as I do among the Chinese...
My invitation to appear on the student TV station finally arrived, while my ill-conceived lecture on English traditions has been cancelled. I await Tuesday with bated breath.
26 November 2003
Business management students continue their demonic trend, though did have some helpful suggestions from MSN pal Yan at the SA consulate as to how to deal with them. Kick 'em out of class now and again. Will have to try it.
Think I've cracked the pronunciation lessons though with emphasis on 'stress' and 'tone' in natural English. My theory: if Chinese uses tone to express meaning, then in English tone shows feeling. A fundamental gulf between cultures. Eatcha hearts out Sapir and Whorf with your vaguely remembered hypothesis.
Ayesha mysteriously texted me out of the blue to ask me to come see her contemporary dance theatre in a couple of weeks. Not to mention yesterday's surprise invitation extended to the SHUFE foreigners to Xiamen in a couple of weeks time. Not sure about what the motivation for this is... And bullied into volunteering to cook an Indian for American and European beauties (Erin and Simona). Now where am I going to find one desperate enough to sell himself for food?
Flattering but un-requitable interest flourishes. If it's not student 'A' asking whether it's OK to date foreigners or teachers, it's 'B' buying me sweet potatoes outside the campus and writing follow-up e-mails. Am I just imagining this? Getting nervous nonetheless...
Think I've cracked the pronunciation lessons though with emphasis on 'stress' and 'tone' in natural English. My theory: if Chinese uses tone to express meaning, then in English tone shows feeling. A fundamental gulf between cultures. Eatcha hearts out Sapir and Whorf with your vaguely remembered hypothesis.
Ayesha mysteriously texted me out of the blue to ask me to come see her contemporary dance theatre in a couple of weeks. Not to mention yesterday's surprise invitation extended to the SHUFE foreigners to Xiamen in a couple of weeks time. Not sure about what the motivation for this is... And bullied into volunteering to cook an Indian for American and European beauties (Erin and Simona). Now where am I going to find one desperate enough to sell himself for food?
Flattering but un-requitable interest flourishes. If it's not student 'A' asking whether it's OK to date foreigners or teachers, it's 'B' buying me sweet potatoes outside the campus and writing follow-up e-mails. Am I just imagining this? Getting nervous nonetheless...
25 November 2003
An Italian, a Scotsman and a Chinese fellow are hired at a construction site. The foreman points out a huge pile of sand.
He says to the Italian guy: "You're in charge of sweeping." To the Scotsman he says, "You're in charge of shovelling." And to the Chinese guy, "You're in charge of supplies." He then says, "Now, I have to leave for a little while. I expect you to make a dent in that pile of sand."
When the foreman returns after being away for a couple of hours, the pile of sand is untouched. He asks the Italian: "Why didn't you sweep any of it?"
The Italian replies: "I no hava no broom. You saida to the Chinesea fella that he a wasa ina charge of supplies, but he hasa disappeared and I no coulda finda him nowhere."
Then the foreman turns to the Scotsman and says: "And you, I thought I told you to shovel this pile." The Scotsman replies: "Aye, that ye did laddie, boot ah could nae get meself a shoovel. Ye left th' Chinese gadgie in chairge of supplies, boot ah couldna fin' him neither."
The foreman is really angry now. He storms off toward the pile of sand to look for the Chinese gent. Just then, the Chinese man leaps out from behind the pile of sand and yells: "SUPPLIES!!!!"
He says to the Italian guy: "You're in charge of sweeping." To the Scotsman he says, "You're in charge of shovelling." And to the Chinese guy, "You're in charge of supplies." He then says, "Now, I have to leave for a little while. I expect you to make a dent in that pile of sand."
When the foreman returns after being away for a couple of hours, the pile of sand is untouched. He asks the Italian: "Why didn't you sweep any of it?"
The Italian replies: "I no hava no broom. You saida to the Chinesea fella that he a wasa ina charge of supplies, but he hasa disappeared and I no coulda finda him nowhere."
Then the foreman turns to the Scotsman and says: "And you, I thought I told you to shovel this pile." The Scotsman replies: "Aye, that ye did laddie, boot ah could nae get meself a shoovel. Ye left th' Chinese gadgie in chairge of supplies, boot ah couldna fin' him neither."
The foreman is really angry now. He storms off toward the pile of sand to look for the Chinese gent. Just then, the Chinese man leaps out from behind the pile of sand and yells: "SUPPLIES!!!!"
24 November 2003
One of those days when nothing worked.
The washing machine. Sleeping. Laptop failed to pick up a signal from outside the Matrix. Jammed printer in the office. My lesson on English pronunciation. 'British English' pronunciation. The DVD player that... wasn't. The sound cables that fell out of the back of the DVD player that... was . Watching Bonfire of the Vanities as an exercise in understanding the western media. Maintaining a grip on decorum in the face of a growing threat from without and within.
Tomorrow I do nothing. Only nothing works.
The washing machine. Sleeping. Laptop failed to pick up a signal from outside the Matrix. Jammed printer in the office. My lesson on English pronunciation. 'British English' pronunciation. The DVD player that... wasn't. The sound cables that fell out of the back of the DVD player that... was . Watching Bonfire of the Vanities as an exercise in understanding the western media. Maintaining a grip on decorum in the face of a growing threat from without and within.
Tomorrow I do nothing. Only nothing works.
23 November 2003
Spent much of the day being hungover.
Matt Buckley arrived en route back to Yinjang. He's lost weight. Reminded of just how cushy I have it here - 12 hours work a week, room with bathroom and heating (washing machine still floods the kitchen, but that's another matter), majority of kids relatively useful. Sounds different down by the dam.
Took him out for Pizza Hut, entertained him with The Deer Hunter. Easy to forget just how long and slow it is. But interesting to watch it with someone who has never seen it before.
Matt Buckley arrived en route back to Yinjang. He's lost weight. Reminded of just how cushy I have it here - 12 hours work a week, room with bathroom and heating (washing machine still floods the kitchen, but that's another matter), majority of kids relatively useful. Sounds different down by the dam.
Took him out for Pizza Hut, entertained him with The Deer Hunter. Easy to forget just how long and slow it is. But interesting to watch it with someone who has never seen it before.
22 November 2003
Saturday, 22nd November 2003. A day that will live forever in English hearts.
Bit of a run around with young Tommy - texted him to see if he wanted to join us, but was pressured into leaving for O'Malley's without him. Met him at the scene in any case. Problem solved.
The boozer a heaving mass of expat passion. Painted faces, flags and stupid wallaby masks. Spent some time explaining the rules to Erin 'American Beauty', who despite her heritage was supporting Australia. No matter.
Many words have been written elsewhere. Full time - 14 all. Extra time - 17 all. The dying seconds, a boot, a ball, a light caress against the grass, a heavy thwack with the leathered foot of Sir Jonny Wilkinson. History.
Unfortunately was dragged off against my better judgement to have dinner with assorted Yanks. In retrospect should have stuck it out with the English. Charming nonetheless to meet a Chinese belly-dancer and American Beauty's friend Guzel from Xinjiang.
Never seen such an un-Oriental looking Chinese person. Her region is out in the far west, and she looked kind of like a cross between a Turk and a Chinese person - Caucasian features and less-than-dead-straight hair yet with Mongoloid-ish eyes. Probably shouldn't be dissecting her ethnicity in such detail, but never met anyone like that till today.
Finally ended up in some bar full of people I didn't know and headed home to nurse my pounding head. Throbbed till 6.00am when was finally able to sleep. Today was a day when it may have been good to have been in England.
Bit of a run around with young Tommy - texted him to see if he wanted to join us, but was pressured into leaving for O'Malley's without him. Met him at the scene in any case. Problem solved.
The boozer a heaving mass of expat passion. Painted faces, flags and stupid wallaby masks. Spent some time explaining the rules to Erin 'American Beauty', who despite her heritage was supporting Australia. No matter.
Many words have been written elsewhere. Full time - 14 all. Extra time - 17 all. The dying seconds, a boot, a ball, a light caress against the grass, a heavy thwack with the leathered foot of Sir Jonny Wilkinson. History.Unfortunately was dragged off against my better judgement to have dinner with assorted Yanks. In retrospect should have stuck it out with the English. Charming nonetheless to meet a Chinese belly-dancer and American Beauty's friend Guzel from Xinjiang.
Never seen such an un-Oriental looking Chinese person. Her region is out in the far west, and she looked kind of like a cross between a Turk and a Chinese person - Caucasian features and less-than-dead-straight hair yet with Mongoloid-ish eyes. Probably shouldn't be dissecting her ethnicity in such detail, but never met anyone like that till today.
Finally ended up in some bar full of people I didn't know and headed home to nurse my pounding head. Throbbed till 6.00am when was finally able to sleep. Today was a day when it may have been good to have been in England.
20 November 2003
Woke up feeling snivelly and under-the weather so spent most of the day working on Living in China and watching Mel Gibson vehicle 'We Were Soldiers'. Not big on storyline, based as it is on true events, but a violent indictment on the follies of assuming that technology can win wars.
One wonders whether the current US administration has ever seen any of the multitude of Vietnam flicks that Hollywood churns out. Perhaps they would learn something about the nature of guerrilla conflict.
Bush and Blair presented their press conference - even shown live on China's CCTV. More later, but I have the feeling that this was an epochal moment, with both putting on a nervy yet convincing performance.
New justifications of the war in Iraq surfaced - TB stating that if the US and UK can establish a free and democratic government in Iraq it will prove to oppressed peoples of the world, not to mention the international terrorist element, that the Western way ("freedom, democracy and the rule of law") is the best way. This is how terrorism will be defeated. We shall see.
Discovered a new Chinese blog to rival Leylop. Describing himself as "a social documentary photographer recording the transmission of the Chinese metropolis", Foxmachia's site is well worth a look, if you can get past the Chinese.
Speaking of Chinese blogging, looks like the not-so-lovely Muzimei, also known as Mu Zi Mei, has been closed down. Anything Danwei can do, I can do yet more shamelessly in the effort to attract Mu Zi Mei traffic. So here's some more lifted photos of the nasty brush-headed sexblogging minx for your perusal.
One wonders whether the current US administration has ever seen any of the multitude of Vietnam flicks that Hollywood churns out. Perhaps they would learn something about the nature of guerrilla conflict.
Bush and Blair presented their press conference - even shown live on China's CCTV. More later, but I have the feeling that this was an epochal moment, with both putting on a nervy yet convincing performance.
New justifications of the war in Iraq surfaced - TB stating that if the US and UK can establish a free and democratic government in Iraq it will prove to oppressed peoples of the world, not to mention the international terrorist element, that the Western way ("freedom, democracy and the rule of law") is the best way. This is how terrorism will be defeated. We shall see.
Discovered a new Chinese blog to rival Leylop. Describing himself as "a social documentary photographer recording the transmission of the Chinese metropolis", Foxmachia's site is well worth a look, if you can get past the Chinese.Speaking of Chinese blogging, looks like the not-so-lovely Muzimei, also known as Mu Zi Mei, has been closed down. Anything Danwei can do, I can do yet more shamelessly in the effort to attract Mu Zi Mei traffic. So here's some more lifted photos of the nasty brush-headed sexblogging minx for your perusal.
Business management class on Wednesday mornings continue to be evil. It continues to rain. And this afternoon I have a strong suspicion that the Government blocked Western media sites for a brief period. Because they continue to be able to.
18 November 2003
Frustration.
Set out in the cold and rain to the DVD store only to find it closed for the afternoon.
"Why are you closed?"
"We're closed this afternoon"
"Why this afternoon?"
"No open"
"But you're open every day"
"Yes"
"Why not today?"
"We're closed"
To be fair, they did let me sit there for a while and even proferred a cheap and nasty umbrella. But it was a wasted afternoon.
Upon returning, found that the 28 Days Later DVD didn't work. Furthermore, the grandly-titled National Geographic '21 Days to Baghdad' was not so much journalism as propaganda.
"We felt privileged to be embedded among such brave young men... just like the ones I served with in Vietnam," said one Knight Ridder 'correspondent'. Not a good sign. I paraphrase more: "Oh look, there's a kid with no face. Anyway, moving swiftly on..." The Brits did get the occasional mention in this all-American production but none warranted a place in the memorial roll-of-honor (sic) at the end.
I have to find a DVD to illustrate aspects of a journalist's work by Monday and am not hopeful.
Oh yeah, speaking of 'journalism' in its many putrid and ratlike forms, let's see how many hits I can generate by mentioning Muzimei. "Muzimei?" I hear you ask... "Who is Muzimei?"
This is her on the right. Looks a bit 'daggy' to me but I am not reputed for my good taste. Basically she's China's answer to Sex in the City, but is apparently real. Or at least purports to be. Her site, crammed with lurid tales of doggy-style sexploits with random rockstars is the biggest thing in the PRC since the Three Gorges Dam.
I'll leave it to Andrea to explain more in this post here : The Muzimei Phenomenon and its Impact on the Chinese Internet. Suffice it to say that I have yet to meet any girls like this. At least ones who don't charge a tenner.
Set out in the cold and rain to the DVD store only to find it closed for the afternoon.
"Why are you closed?"
"We're closed this afternoon"
"Why this afternoon?"
"No open"
"But you're open every day"
"Yes"
"Why not today?"
"We're closed"
To be fair, they did let me sit there for a while and even proferred a cheap and nasty umbrella. But it was a wasted afternoon.
Upon returning, found that the 28 Days Later DVD didn't work. Furthermore, the grandly-titled National Geographic '21 Days to Baghdad' was not so much journalism as propaganda. "We felt privileged to be embedded among such brave young men... just like the ones I served with in Vietnam," said one Knight Ridder 'correspondent'. Not a good sign. I paraphrase more: "Oh look, there's a kid with no face. Anyway, moving swiftly on..." The Brits did get the occasional mention in this all-American production but none warranted a place in the memorial roll-of-honor (sic) at the end.
I have to find a DVD to illustrate aspects of a journalist's work by Monday and am not hopeful.
Oh yeah, speaking of 'journalism' in its many putrid and ratlike forms, let's see how many hits I can generate by mentioning Muzimei. "Muzimei?" I hear you ask... "Who is Muzimei?"
This is her on the right. Looks a bit 'daggy' to me but I am not reputed for my good taste. Basically she's China's answer to Sex in the City, but is apparently real. Or at least purports to be. Her site, crammed with lurid tales of doggy-style sexploits with random rockstars is the biggest thing in the PRC since the Three Gorges Dam.
I'll leave it to Andrea to explain more in this post here : The Muzimei Phenomenon and its Impact on the Chinese Internet. Suffice it to say that I have yet to meet any girls like this. At least ones who don't charge a tenner.
17 November 2003
These newspaper reading classes continue to alarm me. This time, the inevitable and long-put-off occurred.
A student picked out an article criticizing the PRC's attitude to AIDS. There's been a lot of reportage on this subject recently due to the Clinton visit. In brief, in Henan province a cash-for-blood donation scheme went horribly wrong with incompetent officials actually pumping infected blood back into the donors. Now there's villages with a 90% HIV positive population.
Since I make these guys look at newspaper articles on the Internet as an English-improvement device, controversy was bound to happen. So far I've managed to stall it, but this time I was caught out. I let the girl finish her talk and fenced around the subject. No, I wouldn't comment on it. All I could say is that the media is different in the UK than to here.
Strangest of all, yet expected, is that the student's conclusion was that the journalist must have been in error. How was it possible that the government make a mistake like this and then cover it up? We never read about it in the papers...
A student picked out an article criticizing the PRC's attitude to AIDS. There's been a lot of reportage on this subject recently due to the Clinton visit. In brief, in Henan province a cash-for-blood donation scheme went horribly wrong with incompetent officials actually pumping infected blood back into the donors. Now there's villages with a 90% HIV positive population.
Since I make these guys look at newspaper articles on the Internet as an English-improvement device, controversy was bound to happen. So far I've managed to stall it, but this time I was caught out. I let the girl finish her talk and fenced around the subject. No, I wouldn't comment on it. All I could say is that the media is different in the UK than to here.
Strangest of all, yet expected, is that the student's conclusion was that the journalist must have been in error. How was it possible that the government make a mistake like this and then cover it up? We never read about it in the papers...
What the hell is this? Is it real?thankyoutony.com
Apparently 21,000 Yanks have written in to thank Tony Charles Lynton Blair for helping them invade Iraq. You can even listen to Tony's speeches or vote to 'honor' (sic) Tony with some poxy freedom medal.
Personally, I'd rather see all of this redirected to The UK Forces Gulf Fund, which I concede that thankyoutony.com does link to.
It'll be an interesting week. The first state visit by a US President for 20 years. Just imagine the chimpanzee's tea party at Buckingham Palace.
And if there's going to be another Al-Qaeda spectacular this year, my bet is it'll be in the next five days.
16 November 2003
Without feeling the need to make my intentions quite so explicit as he himself, I joined intense Steve on his hunt for western girls. He's right though. There aren't any.
Starting point was, of course, O'Malley's for the All Blacks-Australia encounter. And what a rip-roaring extravaganza of Rugby fun, complete with a full scale stretcher incident. Things then went awry. Having lost track of the Anglo-Australian crew I headed off alone with Steve.
Haven't been to TGI Friday's since Suzanne's 18th birthday party in Ewell. Can say now that I shall not be darkening their doors again. An insipid burger and chips for 75 RMB (about US$9) and an argument about the two-for-one drinks offer. In my book, if you promote an offer at 7.45 and present the bill at 8.15, the offer still stands. Maybe they haven't heard that the customer is always right.
Then onto a dull bar for a dull whiskey coffee unsuprisingly sans whiskey. Things livened up at the Bourbon Bar, however. The obligatory hooker approach, hand on my knee, no thanks darlin'. Did meet some geezer who gave us VIP cards and another who was pleasnt to chat to for a while, even attempting some mandarin on his 'friend' (mistress?).
But still at a loss as to how to meet people in this town without having to pay for them...
Starting point was, of course, O'Malley's for the All Blacks-Australia encounter. And what a rip-roaring extravaganza of Rugby fun, complete with a full scale stretcher incident. Things then went awry. Having lost track of the Anglo-Australian crew I headed off alone with Steve.
Haven't been to TGI Friday's since Suzanne's 18th birthday party in Ewell. Can say now that I shall not be darkening their doors again. An insipid burger and chips for 75 RMB (about US$9) and an argument about the two-for-one drinks offer. In my book, if you promote an offer at 7.45 and present the bill at 8.15, the offer still stands. Maybe they haven't heard that the customer is always right.
Then onto a dull bar for a dull whiskey coffee unsuprisingly sans whiskey. Things livened up at the Bourbon Bar, however. The obligatory hooker approach, hand on my knee, no thanks darlin'. Did meet some geezer who gave us VIP cards and another who was pleasnt to chat to for a while, even attempting some mandarin on his 'friend' (mistress?).
But still at a loss as to how to meet people in this town without having to pay for them...
15 November 2003
Finally got the scanner going and uploaded my latest batch of photos. Though the slides themselves look great, the electronic results are a little disappointing. But what do you expect from a 750 RMB (US$90) piece of kit?
Anyway, if you fancy a look at my Qingdao pictures, click the link or the thumbnail. Alternatively, select 'China Gallery' either here or from the link list on the right hand side and go on from there.
Also took a look at Empire of the Sun on DVD. Seen it many times before but a whole new perspective lent to it by actually being in Shanghai. That song continues to haunt me.
Anyway, if you fancy a look at my Qingdao pictures, click the link or the thumbnail. Alternatively, select 'China Gallery' either here or from the link list on the right hand side and go on from there.Also took a look at Empire of the Sun on DVD. Seen it many times before but a whole new perspective lent to it by actually being in Shanghai. That song continues to haunt me.
13 November 2003
Egads. A frantic enough day to make me feel almost like I'm back in the London metropolitan ratrace. Apart from crawling out of bed at 9.30 which I suppose isn't terribly business-like.
Firstly, Mandarin with Jevons at 10.30. Feel I am making progress with improvements in both accent and grammar. Threw down a plate of sweet-and-sour-pork (from hereon in abbreviated to SAS pork since it's taken over from noodles as my staple diet, not to mention the Coco Pops and pad Thais that preceded them).
Very fruitful meeting with Chairman Meow in the city centre bashing out house style and other ideas for Living in China, which seems to be gathering momentum daily. Embarrassing moment when I got mixed up about ages, the less said about which the better. Sorry Michael, feel a right idiot now.
Then onto search for a scanner, finally finding one going for a knockdown at 750 RMB. Much fun to be had this weekend installing it and figuring out functions I suspect. So a busy time ahead. Serves me right for being lazy enough to start feeling guilty about it. Now I've got so much to do I don't have time to feel guilty about being lazy anymore.
Firstly, Mandarin with Jevons at 10.30. Feel I am making progress with improvements in both accent and grammar. Threw down a plate of sweet-and-sour-pork (from hereon in abbreviated to SAS pork since it's taken over from noodles as my staple diet, not to mention the Coco Pops and pad Thais that preceded them).
Very fruitful meeting with Chairman Meow in the city centre bashing out house style and other ideas for Living in China, which seems to be gathering momentum daily. Embarrassing moment when I got mixed up about ages, the less said about which the better. Sorry Michael, feel a right idiot now.
Then onto search for a scanner, finally finding one going for a knockdown at 750 RMB. Much fun to be had this weekend installing it and figuring out functions I suspect. So a busy time ahead. Serves me right for being lazy enough to start feeling guilty about it. Now I've got so much to do I don't have time to feel guilty about being lazy anymore.
12 November 2003
Almost more weirdness from the students than I could handle today.
As a special treat (see post two below), I am showing them a DVD on condition that they did a homework exercise and discussed the film during the class. I settled down at the back of the room and, lo and behold, the student in front of me (and only him) spent the whole time head down doing homework from another course.
The kid had to be taken apart and every question I raised during the discussion phase was predictably met with utter blankness. To his credit, he came up at the end to apologize and offer his excuses. He was behind on his work, and tonight he had to referee a basketball match.
Fine, but why sit there in 12 inches front of me and blatantly ignore my lesson? Why show up at all? I ask you.
Interesting moments in the newspaper class. I discovered to my chagrin that another teacher was taking a journalism class and one student asked for a bit of help.
Fine. How come this is the first I’ve heard of this? Wouldn’t it be sensible for the other teacher to co-ordinate with me? Even the student agreed.
There’s just no communication whatsoever. I know, I know, this is China, but someone’s wasting their time here. And it’s probably the other teacher.
Chinese views on global warming. It’s terrible. Fine. But it’s not China’s responsibility. It’s America’s. Because China is a developing country, it can continue its campaign of pollution and contamination at its leisure.
No matter that 20% of the world is Chinese and thus should at least admit some culpability. Blame it all on America.
I agree that the US rejection of the Kyoto treaty is an utter disgrace, but in the light of equally short-sighted arguments like this nothing will ever be achieved. If you’re not part of the solution you’re part of the problem.
Finally, the weirdest moment of all. A student volunteers, yes volunteers, to do her talk. This should have aroused my suspicions immediately.
Up she comes in her pink cardigan, thick knee-high socks and schoolgirl shoes. It’s like she’s been dressed by her granny. The girl then launches into an incomprehensible quasi-metaphysical religious diatribe. I and many of the other students are dumbstruck.
What was she talking about? “God makes us happy but money does not make us happy but then we must grow up and money makes us happy before it makes us unhappy then God does something else….”
For 10 full minutes, including the break, on and on, all the time scrawling slogans on the board (see images) like some kind of cabalistic free-writing session. It certainly wasn’t newspaper reading as I’d envisioned it.
These kids are beginning to scare me.
As a special treat (see post two below), I am showing them a DVD on condition that they did a homework exercise and discussed the film during the class. I settled down at the back of the room and, lo and behold, the student in front of me (and only him) spent the whole time head down doing homework from another course.
The kid had to be taken apart and every question I raised during the discussion phase was predictably met with utter blankness. To his credit, he came up at the end to apologize and offer his excuses. He was behind on his work, and tonight he had to referee a basketball match.
Fine, but why sit there in 12 inches front of me and blatantly ignore my lesson? Why show up at all? I ask you.
Interesting moments in the newspaper class. I discovered to my chagrin that another teacher was taking a journalism class and one student asked for a bit of help.
Fine. How come this is the first I’ve heard of this? Wouldn’t it be sensible for the other teacher to co-ordinate with me? Even the student agreed.
There’s just no communication whatsoever. I know, I know, this is China, but someone’s wasting their time here. And it’s probably the other teacher.
Chinese views on global warming. It’s terrible. Fine. But it’s not China’s responsibility. It’s America’s. Because China is a developing country, it can continue its campaign of pollution and contamination at its leisure.
No matter that 20% of the world is Chinese and thus should at least admit some culpability. Blame it all on America.
I agree that the US rejection of the Kyoto treaty is an utter disgrace, but in the light of equally short-sighted arguments like this nothing will ever be achieved. If you’re not part of the solution you’re part of the problem.
Finally, the weirdest moment of all. A student volunteers, yes volunteers, to do her talk. This should have aroused my suspicions immediately.
Up she comes in her pink cardigan, thick knee-high socks and schoolgirl shoes. It’s like she’s been dressed by her granny. The girl then launches into an incomprehensible quasi-metaphysical religious diatribe. I and many of the other students are dumbstruck.
What was she talking about? “God makes us happy but money does not make us happy but then we must grow up and money makes us happy before it makes us unhappy then God does something else….”
For 10 full minutes, including the break, on and on, all the time scrawling slogans on the board (see images) like some kind of cabalistic free-writing session. It certainly wasn’t newspaper reading as I’d envisioned it.These kids are beginning to scare me.
11 November 2003
Rrrrrr. Getting colder now. Jevons says that it will get down to about -2 here and -10 in Beijing when I plan to walk the Wall. He's already wearing his long johns.
Betty, Betty, Betty. (pictured left) Should I laugh or start to be concerned when she sends me a selection of photos like the one on the right? And this is mild. You haven't seen the suicide ones.
Popped my head round Joe and Libby's door in search of warmth and instructions for the heating units to find them huddled round a boiling vat of pasta. Almost felt like eating it with chopsticks. I think that next time I'm in an Italian in the real world I actually will just for the hell of it. And since when was Brie made in Germany and come in a tin?
Betty, Betty, Betty. (pictured left) Should I laugh or start to be concerned when she sends me a selection of photos like the one on the right? And this is mild. You haven't seen the suicide ones.Popped my head round Joe and Libby's door in search of warmth and instructions for the heating units to find them huddled round a boiling vat of pasta. Almost felt like eating it with chopsticks. I think that next time I'm in an Italian in the real world I actually will just for the hell of it. And since when was Brie made in Germany and come in a tin?
10 November 2003
In the interests of teaching my students something about stereotypes (and also in the interests of laziness on my part) today they were treated to the utterly dire What a Girl Wants. They loved it. No accounting for taste.
Today's newspaper reading curveballs included a story from The Economist about the US attitude to Iraq etc. which required lengthy explanations of MacCarthyism and reds-under-the-bed etc.
Moreover, another student came up with a story about a gay-bashing bishop. The girl could not make it through without uncontrolled giggling though I sense the smile will be wiped off her face when she sees the grade I gave her.
Though there'll be problems uploading my Qingdao pics due to the scanner not having a transparency facility, the cheap'n'nasty Maxell Max Pen continues to do sterling work. Thus begins today my student of the moment feature.
Inauguring this lofty accolade is the oddly-named Snazzy who surprised us all by showing up in a gymslip and hi-top buckle-up biker boots (not shown). Nice fashion sense, darling.
Today's newspaper reading curveballs included a story from The Economist about the US attitude to Iraq etc. which required lengthy explanations of MacCarthyism and reds-under-the-bed etc.
Moreover, another student came up with a story about a gay-bashing bishop. The girl could not make it through without uncontrolled giggling though I sense the smile will be wiped off her face when she sees the grade I gave her.
Though there'll be problems uploading my Qingdao pics due to the scanner not having a transparency facility, the cheap'n'nasty Maxell Max Pen continues to do sterling work. Thus begins today my student of the moment feature. Inauguring this lofty accolade is the oddly-named Snazzy who surprised us all by showing up in a gymslip and hi-top buckle-up biker boots (not shown). Nice fashion sense, darling.
09 November 2003
What is it with England these days? Put them up against a superior opponent and they play their hearts out. They rest of it they coast. My God, today's performance was bad. It was as if they'd all gone on the lash last night and lost their contact lenses.
When Mike Catt is man of the match, you know there's a problem.
When Mike Catt is man of the match, you know there's a problem.
08 November 2003
"Hello," said the voice in a vague and barely discernable accent, "I used to live in your room. Would you be interested in coming on a modelling shoot?"
I received the phone call at eight in the morning, not the best time of day for clear and coherent thought. I asked for more details. A company was looking for westerners, any westerners to show off some clothes. It would be about an hour's drive from Shanghai. For 1000 RMB, was I up for it?
After last week's Real Love debacle, my antenna were already tingling. But for a grand, it was worth checking out at least. He called another couple of times to change the details... could he make it 11.30? 10. 30? My judgment already warning me this was not idea I called Erin. Did she know the guy?
"Yes," she replied. "We used to call him 'The Vampire'. He's kind of... shady." This was not encouraging.
Still, at the appointed time I went down to meet him. Erin had been understating things. He was dodgier than a bloke running a kiddie's dodgem rink. He had brought with him a sour Chinese girlfriend who who didn't like the look of either, but it was his hair that did it - ragged, near-shoulder length and greasy. I did not warm to him.
The details changed again. It was a three-hour train and I would stay overnight. Oh, that was for an extra 500 RMB. I could come back today if I liked. Yeah, he didn't know much about himself, he was DJing for a nearby bar, the company was a reputable one, just needed laoweis to model clothes. He thought.
No way, Jose. The bloke was politely dismissed.
I'm wising to this stuff now, I'm glad to say.
I received the phone call at eight in the morning, not the best time of day for clear and coherent thought. I asked for more details. A company was looking for westerners, any westerners to show off some clothes. It would be about an hour's drive from Shanghai. For 1000 RMB, was I up for it?
After last week's Real Love debacle, my antenna were already tingling. But for a grand, it was worth checking out at least. He called another couple of times to change the details... could he make it 11.30? 10. 30? My judgment already warning me this was not idea I called Erin. Did she know the guy?
"Yes," she replied. "We used to call him 'The Vampire'. He's kind of... shady." This was not encouraging.
Still, at the appointed time I went down to meet him. Erin had been understating things. He was dodgier than a bloke running a kiddie's dodgem rink. He had brought with him a sour Chinese girlfriend who who didn't like the look of either, but it was his hair that did it - ragged, near-shoulder length and greasy. I did not warm to him.
The details changed again. It was a three-hour train and I would stay overnight. Oh, that was for an extra 500 RMB. I could come back today if I liked. Yeah, he didn't know much about himself, he was DJing for a nearby bar, the company was a reputable one, just needed laoweis to model clothes. He thought.
No way, Jose. The bloke was politely dismissed.
I'm wising to this stuff now, I'm glad to say.
07 November 2003
Early classes, a late lunch, and then off to see Matrix : Revolutions. Enjoyable romp, but somewhat derivative I'd say.Steve and I established a while ago that this place transcends the laws of time, space and logic. On the way out of the station, we passed an entrance to the Metro. We were debating whether to walk or ride and decided to split upon reaching the next tunnel entry point 100m down the road.
A full 45 minutes later we were still looking. Despite religiously following the signs for the Metro, we descibed a one-mile circle around the Nanjing Lu area. Still, got a great shot of the night sky with my woeful little camera.Met up with Joe and Libby for Libby's birthday meal - an expensive but satisfying Nepalese restaurant. And got my first real candid cam shot of this sleeping woman. Armed with the Maxell Pen, I will soon be ready to take my next step in the terrorisation of the citizens of Shanghai.
06 November 2003
Perhaps an hour of umming-and-ahhing but today acquired a digital camera for the princely sum of 298 RMB - about US$35. Granted, it's an extremely poor one and only offers very low res pics but it's small enough to carry in my pocket all the time and, surrepticiously concealed in my hand, ideal for snapping unsuspecting Chinese with.
For my first target I intend to track down the Snoopy twins. These are a pair of very good-looking girls in their early twenties I have seen walking round the back of the campus. Despite their sophistication from the neck up, these ladies generally roam around in broad daylight clad in matching Charles Schulz-themed pyjamas.
You've got to see it. I will find them and get a clandestine shot of their bedtime-wear glory.
Oh yeah. Bizarre incident with the girl at the SA embassy who randomly e-mailed me after I put my name on a professional networking site in the hope of getting some commissions. Was mucking around with the video feature on the camera, and spookily she contacts me and says 'hello, I can see you on your webcam'. Eek!
By the way, if you ever feel the need to see a film about the Lebanon conflict in the 1980s, don't bother with Witness in the War Zone (aka Deadline). Not all films featuring Christopher Walken are as good as The Deer Hunter. This is one of them.
For my first target I intend to track down the Snoopy twins. These are a pair of very good-looking girls in their early twenties I have seen walking round the back of the campus. Despite their sophistication from the neck up, these ladies generally roam around in broad daylight clad in matching Charles Schulz-themed pyjamas.
You've got to see it. I will find them and get a clandestine shot of their bedtime-wear glory.
Oh yeah. Bizarre incident with the girl at the SA embassy who randomly e-mailed me after I put my name on a professional networking site in the hope of getting some commissions. Was mucking around with the video feature on the camera, and spookily she contacts me and says 'hello, I can see you on your webcam'. Eek!
By the way, if you ever feel the need to see a film about the Lebanon conflict in the 1980s, don't bother with Witness in the War Zone (aka Deadline). Not all films featuring Christopher Walken are as good as The Deer Hunter. This is one of them.
05 November 2003
More trials and tribs in the newspaper reading classes. It's easy to assume that the students know nothing about the outside world or what really goes on in China but - and God bless the Internet - sometimes they do.
For example, this evening the whole Japanese student debacle and the subsequent riot and lockdown came up a few times. Another student launched into a critique of the Chinese education system compared with the freer-thinking American (read Western) ideology.
There again, an attempt by myself to spark a debate on ID cards went down like Leonardo DiCaprio after an iceberg incident. The student read out her piece on the introduction of 'smart' ID cards in China, you know, the ones with embedded chips in them. They all accepted this would be convenient but of course it wasn't in their frame of reference to argue against such a system in the first place.
I myself am not against ID cards in the UK for law-abiding citizens, but at least I can see there are two sides to the argument.
One article that a student did a presentation on was about a US trend to only give raises to high-performing employees and little or nothing to the rest. Ask the students about their views on this and they come out as virulently capitalist. The individual should be rewarded for their efforts. So much for the collective.
Lastly, on the desk of 'poet-at-heart' boy Dinosaur was found a Chinese translation of James Joyce's groundbreaking 1922 novel Ulysses. We had a little talk at the end of the lesson and I gave him some recommendations. But what is this kid doing at a business school, I ask you?
Oh yeah. After class, one of the girls asked me if I could look over a draft CV for a friend who was applying to a Western company. Amidst the more bland and innocuous stuff, 'assistant to the General Manager', 'in charge of marketing initiatives' etc., I found this utter clanger: 'responsible for marketing and propaganda efforts.'
You can change that to 'public relations' I said, and left her to it.
For example, this evening the whole Japanese student debacle and the subsequent riot and lockdown came up a few times. Another student launched into a critique of the Chinese education system compared with the freer-thinking American (read Western) ideology.
There again, an attempt by myself to spark a debate on ID cards went down like Leonardo DiCaprio after an iceberg incident. The student read out her piece on the introduction of 'smart' ID cards in China, you know, the ones with embedded chips in them. They all accepted this would be convenient but of course it wasn't in their frame of reference to argue against such a system in the first place.
I myself am not against ID cards in the UK for law-abiding citizens, but at least I can see there are two sides to the argument.
One article that a student did a presentation on was about a US trend to only give raises to high-performing employees and little or nothing to the rest. Ask the students about their views on this and they come out as virulently capitalist. The individual should be rewarded for their efforts. So much for the collective.
Lastly, on the desk of 'poet-at-heart' boy Dinosaur was found a Chinese translation of James Joyce's groundbreaking 1922 novel Ulysses. We had a little talk at the end of the lesson and I gave him some recommendations. But what is this kid doing at a business school, I ask you?
Oh yeah. After class, one of the girls asked me if I could look over a draft CV for a friend who was applying to a Western company. Amidst the more bland and innocuous stuff, 'assistant to the General Manager', 'in charge of marketing initiatives' etc., I found this utter clanger: 'responsible for marketing and propaganda efforts.'
You can change that to 'public relations' I said, and left her to it.
04 November 2003
Today's interesting cuisine: a beef gratin with all the right ingredients but one - potato. For the potato, read rice. They actually substituted rice for potato. Love 'em.
And why, after you have filled in your telephone number and address on an e-mail form so as to receive an English language magazine, do you receive a follow up phone call asking what your telephone number and address are? Surely if they are able to ring your number they know what it is? Love 'em to bits.
And why, after you have filled in your telephone number and address on an e-mail form so as to receive an English language magazine, do you receive a follow up phone call asking what your telephone number and address are? Surely if they are able to ring your number they know what it is? Love 'em to bits.
Following the missile attack on the CH-47 Chinook helicopter that killed 16, US casualty figures since 1 May 2003 now stand at 135 (Official DoD figures as of 23.00 Beijing time, 3 November). Wounded in Action during the year so far is pushing 2000.
We, the UK, are also still involved. It's difficult to judge how many British personnel were KIA - I make it eight during the campaign and 11 since 1 May - the MoD keeps a record here.
In fact, more Brits appear to have been killed by accidents and ironically the highest decoration awarded so far has been a George Cross. The young soldier involved rescued comrades after a 'friendly fire' incident, and since his courage was not in the face of the enemy but in the face of the Americans he was ineligible for a Victoria Cross. His citation is here.
Moreover, there appears to have been a shift in the rhetoric. Bush has referred to the conflict as an 'insurgency'; Rumsfeld has gone one further and conceded that the US is still at 'war'.
During what I would call the analagous phase of the Vietnam war, in 1964 (the year of the Tonkin Gulf 'incident') there were 206 deaths (statistics from the National Archives and Records Administration database).
Given that medical care and technology has improved manifold in the last 40 years, it would appear that the US is sustaining a similar level of casualties to which it did in the early stages of its participation in the Vietnam War before the high level commitment of combat troops and the commencement of Operation 'Rolling Thunder' in 1965 . In that year there were a further 1863 deaths.
However one chooses to read the analogy, it seems certain that the US administration urgently needs to renew its political and military strategies lest we find ourselves back in 1968.
"When the enemy tires, we attack..." The Vietnamese had the Tet offensive - will the Iraqis try it on during Ramadan?
We, the UK, are also still involved. It's difficult to judge how many British personnel were KIA - I make it eight during the campaign and 11 since 1 May - the MoD keeps a record here.
In fact, more Brits appear to have been killed by accidents and ironically the highest decoration awarded so far has been a George Cross. The young soldier involved rescued comrades after a 'friendly fire' incident, and since his courage was not in the face of the enemy but in the face of the Americans he was ineligible for a Victoria Cross. His citation is here.
Moreover, there appears to have been a shift in the rhetoric. Bush has referred to the conflict as an 'insurgency'; Rumsfeld has gone one further and conceded that the US is still at 'war'.
During what I would call the analagous phase of the Vietnam war, in 1964 (the year of the Tonkin Gulf 'incident') there were 206 deaths (statistics from the National Archives and Records Administration database).
Given that medical care and technology has improved manifold in the last 40 years, it would appear that the US is sustaining a similar level of casualties to which it did in the early stages of its participation in the Vietnam War before the high level commitment of combat troops and the commencement of Operation 'Rolling Thunder' in 1965 . In that year there were a further 1863 deaths.
However one chooses to read the analogy, it seems certain that the US administration urgently needs to renew its political and military strategies lest we find ourselves back in 1968.
"When the enemy tires, we attack..." The Vietnamese had the Tet offensive - will the Iraqis try it on during Ramadan?
03 November 2003
Level crossings. Fine. Good concept. But why have an engine shunting goods carriages backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards ad nauseam right next to one? Doesn't do much for the traffic flow, I can tell you.
02 November 2003
Just when you think you've cracked it, it cracks you one back. It's bad enough figuring out the mystery of women in general. Chinese women are a breed apart. And sometimes they don't play fair.
Just like South Vietnam back in the '60s - not to mention Shanghai back in the '30s - take a city in the midst of profound change, fill it with an elite consisiting of ambitious locals and foreign men with time and money on their hands and an industry will spring up. The city almost speaks out for itself. Me so horny. Me so horny. Me love you long time. You party?
It's not that I am naive. In my time I have been to extinguish my curiosity at sexpots like Patpong, Bangkok's loose and seedy district of ping-pong ball fame. There I got my comeuppance after an innocuous and seemingly complementary fully-clothed top-half massage ended up as a sting for 300B (about US$8).
A learning experience. And back in September, my first sojourn to Shanghai's nightclub Mecca on Maoming road taught me that here, single guys will be accosted by single females with a single purpose. To fleece you out of every penny you have. This is, after all, Shanghai.
So it was a particularly rude reawakening and a sorry tale that I wrote myself into on Saturday night.
Fuelled by a couple of dangerously dear Danish lagers at O'Malleys and the excitement of the razor-edge Ireland-Australia match, I was on my way. Followed by another piuju at Tony's restaurant nearby my gang hit Bourbon Street bar on Hengshan Lu. The joint throbbed with a smily and competent band thrashing out brassy eighties covers. Enough to have Chairman Mao sitting up in his mausoleum at least.
Wishing to avoid the overpriced and overrated Western expat venues, it was then onto Real Love, the club across the road. There we got chatting to some local lads who seemed pleasant and cheery enough. Until the misunderstanding.
As a self-imposed dare, I was to go and try to chat to a pretty Chinese girl. Straightforward. The mistake was in asking one of these chaps to introduce me to someone. Whether he hadn't grasped what it was I wanted or whether he knew exactly where he was at, this was where things went wrong.
Jump forward five minutes. This girl, Julie - candidly and unthreateningly attractive, though with a figure not quite as elegantly bland as the average Chinese - was already making her position clear. "OK. We go dance? Then maybe we play some more..."
With a couple of beers inside me I had been unforgiveably stupid. She had asked me to buy her a drink. I had no objections to this but in a braindead state had palmed her a 100 RMB note. She trotted off, got herself a Coke, we danced a bit with her hands roaming uncomfortably and I suddenly got the message.
Every now and again she would come sit on my lap or knee me playfully in the crotch. But there was not going to be any change from my tonne and never was. It was a deposit. This put me in the impossible situation - should I write off the money or continue with the transaction? A round 200 seemed fairly steep for playtime anyhow.
Of course I didn't follow through, and to cut a long story short was finally able to untangle myself from the situation albeit several kwai down. But even at this juncture I can't say if I've learned my lesson or not. What angers me is that I'm not even that naive. I'm one of those people who knows that what they are about to do is stupid but then just goes and does it anyway.
To cap the evening off, the taxi driver who took us home put his meter on overdrive and what was more, a few hundred yards from home did a U-turn and belted off in the opposite direction despite frantic gesticulation and animated estuarine commands from me. At least I knew the going rate for that at least and that was all he got.
While I am more than aware that Shanghai has its seedy side, it's also frustrating that you must always be on your guard like I should have been on Saturday. It would be great if a single man could just go out and relax and talk to people normally without running into trouble at every corner. But perhaps that's wishful thinking.
My experience that night is, I think, symptomatic of the darker side that the economic miracle is bringing. There has always been prostitution here, of course there has. This is Shanghai. Fellow foolish young expats be warned.
Just like South Vietnam back in the '60s - not to mention Shanghai back in the '30s - take a city in the midst of profound change, fill it with an elite consisiting of ambitious locals and foreign men with time and money on their hands and an industry will spring up. The city almost speaks out for itself. Me so horny. Me so horny. Me love you long time. You party?
It's not that I am naive. In my time I have been to extinguish my curiosity at sexpots like Patpong, Bangkok's loose and seedy district of ping-pong ball fame. There I got my comeuppance after an innocuous and seemingly complementary fully-clothed top-half massage ended up as a sting for 300B (about US$8).
A learning experience. And back in September, my first sojourn to Shanghai's nightclub Mecca on Maoming road taught me that here, single guys will be accosted by single females with a single purpose. To fleece you out of every penny you have. This is, after all, Shanghai.
So it was a particularly rude reawakening and a sorry tale that I wrote myself into on Saturday night.
Fuelled by a couple of dangerously dear Danish lagers at O'Malleys and the excitement of the razor-edge Ireland-Australia match, I was on my way. Followed by another piuju at Tony's restaurant nearby my gang hit Bourbon Street bar on Hengshan Lu. The joint throbbed with a smily and competent band thrashing out brassy eighties covers. Enough to have Chairman Mao sitting up in his mausoleum at least.
Wishing to avoid the overpriced and overrated Western expat venues, it was then onto Real Love, the club across the road. There we got chatting to some local lads who seemed pleasant and cheery enough. Until the misunderstanding.
As a self-imposed dare, I was to go and try to chat to a pretty Chinese girl. Straightforward. The mistake was in asking one of these chaps to introduce me to someone. Whether he hadn't grasped what it was I wanted or whether he knew exactly where he was at, this was where things went wrong.Jump forward five minutes. This girl, Julie - candidly and unthreateningly attractive, though with a figure not quite as elegantly bland as the average Chinese - was already making her position clear. "OK. We go dance? Then maybe we play some more..."
With a couple of beers inside me I had been unforgiveably stupid. She had asked me to buy her a drink. I had no objections to this but in a braindead state had palmed her a 100 RMB note. She trotted off, got herself a Coke, we danced a bit with her hands roaming uncomfortably and I suddenly got the message.
Every now and again she would come sit on my lap or knee me playfully in the crotch. But there was not going to be any change from my tonne and never was. It was a deposit. This put me in the impossible situation - should I write off the money or continue with the transaction? A round 200 seemed fairly steep for playtime anyhow.
Of course I didn't follow through, and to cut a long story short was finally able to untangle myself from the situation albeit several kwai down. But even at this juncture I can't say if I've learned my lesson or not. What angers me is that I'm not even that naive. I'm one of those people who knows that what they are about to do is stupid but then just goes and does it anyway.
To cap the evening off, the taxi driver who took us home put his meter on overdrive and what was more, a few hundred yards from home did a U-turn and belted off in the opposite direction despite frantic gesticulation and animated estuarine commands from me. At least I knew the going rate for that at least and that was all he got.
While I am more than aware that Shanghai has its seedy side, it's also frustrating that you must always be on your guard like I should have been on Saturday. It would be great if a single man could just go out and relax and talk to people normally without running into trouble at every corner. But perhaps that's wishful thinking.
My experience that night is, I think, symptomatic of the darker side that the economic miracle is bringing. There has always been prostitution here, of course there has. This is Shanghai. Fellow foolish young expats be warned.
01 November 2003
Let's go to the zoo, zoo, zoo... and at Jenny and Lavinia's behest, we did. Some floundering around locating the people's square bus stop, but plain sailing from there.
By their nature zoos are rarely happy places, but I have to say that the majority of Shanghai zoo was impressive - largish enclosures with some natural objects for the animals to roam around. There were still a few concrete cells, but my overall impression was that these would eventually be upgraded to fit in with the rest of the compounds.
Less engaging was the behaviour of some of the other visitors. I have been to Asian zoos before, for example in Saigon, but I felt that the Chinese have certainly not cottoned onto Western ideals of animal treatment. There was a consistent disregard for the barriers and a great deal of food throwing. One particularly plump and obnoxious boy had acquired a stick for poking purposes. This was not on.
It wouldn't bother me so much but for the fact that the zoo did have some rare animals, such as a sorry-looking giant panda and a golden monkey. Even these were subject to the glass-banging experience, and there seemed to be no-one on hand to enforce regulations. Still, I suppose one has to accept that certain ideas will take a longer time to filter through.
Objections aside, Lavinia added to her alliterative collection of 'p' articles a panda pin and a painful blister. I was also curiously reminded of the cultish-but-long-forgotten '80s adventure show Tales of the Golden Monkey, and even of some of its more random episodes involving the discovery of the one-eyed dog's other eye.
By their nature zoos are rarely happy places, but I have to say that the majority of Shanghai zoo was impressive - largish enclosures with some natural objects for the animals to roam around. There were still a few concrete cells, but my overall impression was that these would eventually be upgraded to fit in with the rest of the compounds.
Less engaging was the behaviour of some of the other visitors. I have been to Asian zoos before, for example in Saigon, but I felt that the Chinese have certainly not cottoned onto Western ideals of animal treatment. There was a consistent disregard for the barriers and a great deal of food throwing. One particularly plump and obnoxious boy had acquired a stick for poking purposes. This was not on.It wouldn't bother me so much but for the fact that the zoo did have some rare animals, such as a sorry-looking giant panda and a golden monkey. Even these were subject to the glass-banging experience, and there seemed to be no-one on hand to enforce regulations. Still, I suppose one has to accept that certain ideas will take a longer time to filter through.
Objections aside, Lavinia added to her alliterative collection of 'p' articles a panda pin and a painful blister. I was also curiously reminded of the cultish-but-long-forgotten '80s adventure show Tales of the Golden Monkey, and even of some of its more random episodes involving the discovery of the one-eyed dog's other eye.
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