Cambodia - 2

Random pictures of Cambodia!

Cool entrance


A massive tree growing on the temple.

ditto

us

The Big Man.

Skye doing what she loves... getting her photo taken by me!

Three shrewd businessmen, and the best tour guides you could ask for, standing in front of a 'locals only' temple, that they happily took us to.

haven't seen one of these in months!

the temples are full of cool doorways, leading to millions of little nooks and crannies

sunset over the disappearing lake in Phnom Penh...

one of approx 10 zillion carved dancing deities on the temple walls at Angkor

Sunbathing elephant

Angkor towers

"We're not in Kansas anymore Toto", arriving at the Siem Riep port.

On the boat to Siem Riep. We choose to sit on the roof for the experience and later discovered how good our choice was, when we ducked inside to use the toilet and realised the interior was full of diesel fumes and toilet fragrances. The boat trip took 7 hours, and crosses one of the largest freshwater lakes in the world. At one point the lake is so wide, you can't see land in any direction.

A graceful and ugly stork!

My mate the monkey. Followed us around the zoo all day. His cheeks are stuffed with banana, I gave him too much, and he didn't want to waste it (or share with his mates)

"What you talking about Willis?"

"Whatevverrr!"

Cool bird.

Seven Months in Beijing

OK, so I think you all know by now that I usually reserve this blog for funny stories, with the intention to make you all smile, and at the same time allow me to re-create my experiences, process them and store them in the funny/interesting category in my mind. To this end this blog is nice.

Having said that, we're now 7 months into this current journey, and I think its important to let you all in on what its like living in Beijing. Not so much the practicalities, which are sometimes mundane and often humorous, and so the usual fodder for this blog, but rather how it feels.

One of the biggest challenges for me in Beijing so far has been confronting myself. It's easy at home to duck and weave and distract myself for long periods to avoid actually sorting any of my issues out. It's different here.

Suddenly my issues have become so abundantly clear because everything else around me is different; the country, the job, the people, the language, the food, the house, and yet, I suffer from the same feelings and issues that I did at home. Except here there's no-one else to blame.

So what to do? I can either sort it out, or run. But run where? home? another country?

Of course, its possible to do nothing. To simply ride out my time here with my head in the sand, finding things to blame, and walking around with a superiority complex explaining to the world why I know best and why I'm balanced. But that seems unhealthy.

No, the answer for me (made this morning at about 9am) is to face the issues, sort them out once and for all, and then move on.

This is by no means easy, nor is it negative or depressing. In fact, its a great feeling; a feeling of empowerment. I'm ready to shed my baggage and start traveling a little lighter.

The point is I'm changing. Beijing isn't changing me, but rather I am trying to change myself, trying to get into balance. I'm not sure what it means, or where it will lead me, but that's the great thing about positive change; it's a mystery.

Cambodia: 1

Cambodia is an amazing and interesting place. It is, as the advertisements proclaim, 'the kingdom of wonder'. It is wondrous not only for its ancient temples and beautiful happy people, but also for its astounding contradictions and bizarre government (more on that later).

First some facts, did you know that over 75% of Cambodia's population is under 30? (that makes me old in Cambodia) and that 50% are under 18?

wondrous, no?

Or that the Temples at Angkor, just outside Siem Riep, is arguably the largest religious temple area in the world?

Or that because Cambodia is situated between two very powerful neighbours, Vietnam and Thailand, its land and people have been raped and pillaged for centuries by these neighbours, and of course by its own people (read here Khmer Rouge), and yet, the people keep smiling and loving?

This place is truly one of wonder. I knew this to be the case before I visited because Skye had lived, worked and traveled around Cambodia a few years ago, and regaled me with stories of the place. It was like visiting a fairytale land for me, and the best thing was, it lived up to its stories.

I don't know exactly what it is about the place, the feel, the smell, the warmth, the smiling and friendly people, but there is a spirituality that simply can not be expressed in words. I now know why Skye adores it, and am starting to develop strong feelings for the place myself.

I am determined to return at some stage and spend some time to really to get know her.

Here's some photos of Phnom Penh, and possibly some of the last photo's of the sunset over the lake from the Drunken Frog guesthouse! (its a long and horrible story... one for another post)


Sunset on Day 2. The Drunken Frog is great place to stay. The staff are unbelievably friendly. We stayed a few days here at first, then returned for two more after going to Siem Riep. On our return we were greeted with huge hugs and told, that 'Our' room is available. Lovely people.

This is a temple on the only hill in town. A cool place full of monkey's and very poor people, begging and selling their wares. This is one of the great contradictions in this town. There is so much love and beauty, and yet, so many people struggling to survive.
Skye on the deck of the Drunken Frog.
Sunset over the Drunken Frog. The Govt. has sold the lake to developers who are currently filling it with sand so they can build a resort. Very shit, but the sunset, while it lasts, is amazing.


At the aforementioned temple, lighting incense for the 'Big Man'.

Enjoying a cleansing ale at the Foreign Correspondents Club over looking the Tonle Sap River. This club is one of the few fully western places in Phnom Penh and a nice place to recover from culture shock.

Cambodia - I miss you already

This is a non-post. That is, its the post you post when you have something to say, but lack the energy to say it.

I got back from Cambodia a few hours ago. It was fantastic, watch this space for photos and stories.

The Interview

Several times since walking on the hallowed earth of the middle kingdom, I have been told by lovely Chinese ladies that I strike a remarkable resemblance to one Sir David Beckham.

I know what you're thinking, and I agree, I'm more Brad Pitt than Sir David, but what can I say, you know what its like, Chinese people think all us foreigners look the same.

Given this constant praise (?) it came as no surprise when my boss mentioned to me today that a newspaper crew were waiting in the foyer to interview me, and could I spare a few moments to have a chat with them and get a few photos taken.

Never one to turn his back on his fans. I reluctantly agreed.

The interview took about 10 minutes, the photo shoot about 4 seconds, and then I was back into the comfort of the teachers lounge, pretending to work and deflecting the jealous glares of my colleagues.

Have you ever had the sense, that even though you are the centre of attention in a situation, you are in fact, just a prop?

The interview was like something out of a Monty Python skit. The news reporter asked a question that lasted for about 3 minutes (impressive lung capacity because she didn't stop for a breath) and then my boss-slash-interpreter turns to me and says:

"how is the winter course helpful to language learners?"

I answer, with, "its great because the students are immersed in English for 3 hours everyday for 15 days. And..."

My boss-slash-interpreter-slash-puppet master, then says, "hold on, i need to translate"

she then speaks for about 3 minutes, gesticulating and obviously showing a passionate response to the question, that has bugger all to do with what I said.

This happened twice more, then, the reporter says cheerie bye bye and she's away.

Shocked, I asked my boss what that was all about, and she says, "Oh, she just needed to be able to say she spoke to a Foreign expert, I've already given her all the facts and information she needs to write the story"

Ahh the wonders of modern media... I felt like the muppet you see on Ponds ads wearing a white coat and claiming to be a doctor.

The jig is up...

In order to tell this story properly you must cast your mind back to 23 December 2008 (imagine the image going wavy as we drift back in time). It was a cold night, and Skye and I were heading home from dinner. We entered our building stairwell, and were confronted, yet again, by a horrendous Plant Rights violation. Two beautiful, innocent pot plants (Skye could tell you there names, but I don't speak Plant, and even if I did i wouldn't be able to pronounce it!) stuck in a pitch black corner; dumped. Left to rot and die; cold and alone. It was an outrage.

Skye had been watering the plants for the last three months to ensure they had some sustenance, but now, after months in the dark, things were looking dire. Wiping tears from our eyes, we decided then, on the spot, to rescue the plants and put them in our sun room.

Now, without going into detail (and having my site blocked) we all know the rumours about our fine host and their ability to know everything about everyone, and to use that information to send you to the big house forever.

So, with this in mind, you have to understand that our decision to liberate the plants was a major risk, however, after years of watching CSI, I thought I could match it with the best.

We snaffled the plants that night, after waiting patiently in the dark to see if anyone was stirring; informers; spy's. Once the coast was clear, we nicked them.

I tell you what, for starving plants, they had some weight... well they weren't so much heavy as awkward (that's for you dad!).

Now, as I said, i like to think of myself as a bit of an expert on all things CSI, after all the TV show is an educational guide for would be criminals isn't it? So, I knew that just getting the plants up the stairs and behind closed doors wouldn't be enough, we needed to dispose of all evidence and if possible lead a trail away from us.

We spent the next 30 minutes picking the hundreds of leaves that the plants dropped on the way up the stairs. Then we left a seemingly random spattering of the leaves, out of the stairwell and into the courtyard. Leaving the impression that the assailants were outsiders who had snaffled the plants and whisked them away to another building.

The jig was complete. The plants safe, and our tracks covered. Or so we thought...

Two weeks pasted without incident. No cops, no unusual notices in the stairwells, no pictures of the plants with a reward posted.

We were golden... (insert reverse waviness and bring yourself back to the present day)

Early this morning, I ducked out to pay the telephone bill. On my way out I left our recycling next to the bins and then went to the bank (the place where we pay our telephone bill!). We intentionally leave out our recycling because in Beijing you can get money back for your recycling. We don't need the cash, so we leave it out for the struggling oldies in our complex who need the extra Kuai (See, I'm casually building a picture for the jury that we are good people who look after our community... I should be a lawyer).

On my return 45 minutes later, a 700 year old dude is going through our recycling, crushing cans and folding paper, softly tisking away at the wasteful foreigners, when he spy's me. He's on me like a flash; old yes, slow no.

He's into me about something, but I've no idea what he's saying. He's not angry but insistent. I'm giving it my best shot to understand, but he's speaking quickly and I've got nothing.

"Wo ting bu dong" says I. (I can hear you but don't understand)

He responds by saying the same thing again but really slow and loud, like I'm a retard.

"Wo putonghua shuode bu hao" I try. (My Chinese is bad)

"blah, blah, Hui Jia, blah blah" he says, even slower than last time.

OK, hui jia I know, it means 'go home'. Ha! the old bloke is giving me a serve, telling me to go home... outrageous

"Ting bu dong" I say, and start walking away.

He grabs, me, and drags me towards my stairwell. I'm a little freaked now, cause the guy is still talking and trying to act out something, but he seems happy... this can be a good or bad sign in China. The Chinese will smile non-stop so no-one loses face, even when they are threatening to kill you.

He drags me inside, and points directly to the dark, pot-plantless corner.

Shit!, he knows. how?

"Hiu Jia, blah blah blah"

I still don't know what he's saying, but I'm guessing now its, "get home, and give me back my plants you thieving foreigner!"

I kid on I don't know what he's talking about. We're still golden if only I can break free of his vice like grip and get upstairs.

Then, after another three rounds of his very slow speaking, I crack the Da Vinci code, and when I say, "wo mingbai" (I understand) grandpa cracks the biggest warmest smile you've ever seen.

I could only understand some of the words he was saying, but the re-construction was,

"When you go home (leave china) please can you give me the pot plants that were dumped in the corner"

Grandpa didn't own the plants, he had intended to snaffle them himself, but he didn't have the strength to lift the heavy (sorry, awkward) things up the stairs.

"Mingbai, Mingbai" I say reassuringly and I duck up the stairs and into the safety of the flat.

We were still golden after all, but the question remains how did he know?

The only person who has entered our flat since 'the liberation' was our water delivery man. So obviously, it was him. However, what I want, nay need, to know is; how did it come up in conversation between the water guy and grandpa?

I mean did gramps just stand in the stairwell and ask everyone that walked past if they had seen the plants? or is the water guy in some way part of a bigger machine that is watching us? and so, gramps put the word out that he is looking for the plants, and then, a few weeks later, the information comes back that it was us.

I'll never know, but I have to say that its a timely wake up call... big brother is watching my friends.

death warmed up

"Pray tell dear friend, what brings you to be bed-ridden on this gloriously clear and freezing Beijing day?" I hear you ask. "Moreover, why are you not at work?"

The answer my friends, is Hotpot. That's right, bloody hotpot. Now as anyone who knows me will be aware I am partial to a morsel of food on occasion, and never one to back away from something different. And so it is with hotpot.

Skye happens to love it; hotpot that is. And I have on several occasions tried to discover what she finds in it, indeed I have tried to discover what just about every living person in Beijing finds in it, and alas last night I believe i found it...

You see hotpot, as the name suggests is a cooking style whereby the restaurant sets up a huge boiling pot of (some say) flavoured water, and then supply the raw ingredients, to which, one applies to the boiling water, and 'hey presto' hotpot is in the house.

Throughout my time here I have had all kinds of food stuffs from the belly of the pot. Mutton, pork, beef, ducks blood, ducks tongue and even noodles!

I have to say I have never really understood the fuss. Its almost completely flavourless, and remind me again why I am paying tons of cash to cook my own food?

So anyway, because Skye's mates here all love hotpot, I find myself, week after week, sitting around the pot, trying to dig out some thing or another from the opaque water with chopsticks and wondering whether the stench of the boiling broth with ever wash out of my hair.

Give me stir fry any day.

"The epiphany, sir, get to the part about the epiphany!" you mutter, wondering whether i will get to the point or merely ramble on for hours as usual.

ah yes, the epiphany. So last night, after yet another hotpot meal, with Skye's mate Elissa and her cousin mark who have just spent 3 weeks touring around china (who incidentally are staying with us until Mark flies home, and Elissa moves back to Shenyang), we head home and go to bed. Come 3 am, I'm feeling a little restless and having trouble getting back to sleep. Then it hits me, the epiphany, square between the eyes, well actually closer to my thighs really! To steal a quote from a friend of ours facebook site here in Beijing, "[Alan] no longer thinks SHART is a funny word".

Sitting there on the toilet, while the 'guns of Navarro' and at least 5 million horses trot their way to freedom, I was hit by another epiphany... the dreaded 'choice'.

That's right my friends, the hotpot (or at least its secret ingredient) asked me the simple but impossibly challenging question:

"would you like to sit on the bus, or drive?"

what is one to do? I ask you?

Keep in mind, this isn't my little bachelor pad in Alexandria, I'm not the only one that using this bathroom, and indeed, we have two strangers sleeping in the spare room... what to do?

Luckily for all parties involved, I was able to drive the bus for a short distance, then become a passenger without major incident. I was certain last night that Death himself had come to Beijing to mock me, and yet refuse to take me... after all, imagine the mess I would of made of the pearly steps had there been a queue at the gates.

Alas Death did not take me last night and instead, the hotpot continues to inflict suffering upon me. Indeed as I sit and type I wonder if I'll be able to fin...

The Confidence Game -

This is a short rambling, firstly to boast about how great i am, and secondly... well actually there's only one reason.

Now, I'm not just going to crap on about how great a teacher i am. That would just be grandstanding. And as a result I am not going to talk about how last week I asked some of my advanced students to write a 300 word essay entitled "my favourite...", and two of them wrote about their favourite teacher, 'Alan' and how he is simply the bestest teacher ever (and no I didn't correct their incorrect '-est', after all, I am the bestest!) because telling such a story would just be an act of outrageous 'up-ones-selfness'.

instead I'll tell you a cute story about one of my favourite students, Martin. Martin is simply the cutest little human alive. Last week, during my 'talk time' (I call it this somewhat ironically because 5 year old English students, generally know words and short sentences, so talking is more about me asking direct questions, like 'what is that? what is this? do you like watermelon?) So anyway, I'm going around the room, asking the kiddies if their name is 'Banana', to encourage them to say, 'Noooooo, my name's Ruby, you're a banana'.

I could play this game all day, because the kids end up in fits of laughter that I just can't get enough of. So anyway, I'm going around asking, 'what do you like?' this is a difficult abstract question and often results in blank faces...except this time. I go around and one kid starts with, "I like bananas", I'm thinking cool, they'll all get it now. And they did, some liked bananas others onions (who are we to judge), then Martin says,

"I like you, Alan", then he runs towards me and gives me a huge hug!!!

I respond by saying "I like you too, Martin!" as i hug him back and recover from the goose bumps and watery eyes (my allergies playing up)

Martin then moves around to my ear, and blows into it. Now I know what you thinking, but don't go sexualising everything and making this lovely non-sexualised country as messed up as the west.

It was very cute, but the whole thing got out of hand, when Ruby, another little cutey wanted to do the same thing, but lacked the finesse and fine motor skills of Martin, and sprayed the side of face with saliva!

Ahhh, I am clucky as hell. Not good my friends, not good.

Of course, it all balances out. I did have an older kid ask me yesterday why I decided to cut a huge M in the front of my hair... little bastard!!!

After that comment I spent 25 minutes explaining why male pattern baldness is natural and not a fashion choice... little bastard!

I also had another little 5 year old who got so excited about class ending that when I said, make one line, he charged straight at me to be first in the queue and lost his footing and punched me full force in the nuts! BU HAO!

ahhh the joys of teaching!

Freezing

A lot has happened since my last ramble. Well at least it feels like a lot has happened. Skye landed a new job, turned 30, had her first professional photography gig and hung out with Jane Goodall!

I... um... well I've been doing stuff... like... ahhhh... well working 'en nat.

Ok so not much has happened on the Alan front, but its been an amazing time for Skye and as a result an amazing time for me. Jane Goodall is not only a cool person, but Skye is her number 1 fan, so for Skye to have the opportunity to not only meet her, but spend two days taking photo's of her doing her charity work is out of this world!

Nothing major has happened on the Beijing front either, except that winter arrived. Not slowly and romantically like it used to in the mountains, instead, it kicked the door in and threatened to kill us all. It went from a balmy high of 10 degrees and a low of 0 degrees one day to a high of -8 and low of -13 the next. Unbelievably cold!

In spite of this sudden drop in temperature, we decided to celebrate Skye's 30th by climbing Beijing's only high ground, Fragrance Hills.

"You know" said Skye on the morning of her birthday. "because we'll be walking essentially straight up the hill, we will probably get really hot and end up carrying our heavy coats which will be a pain. So we should wear layers instead and just take our light jumpers."

"well" said I, "you've been before so i guess you know better than I"

Off we set, several layers on, heavycoatless.

After an hour on the heated bus, and us both hoovering about 3 kgs of Sweet Potato chips, we were happy as Larry and happy with our decision to wear layers. 4 steps from the bus door at the foot of the hills, and I got the same feeling I had halfway through our week long walk in Tasmania when we realised we didn't have enough food... "oh shit!"

My friends, to say that it was cold would be factually incorrect. To say that it was unbelievably mind numbingly cold to the point where my cheeks were burning and i held genuine fears for the well being of my finger tips would be more accurate and yet an injustice to the crazy Chinese people who live in Northern China and deal with winds so cold their lungs freeze. Lets just say that for an Aussie traveller, unaccustomed to true cold, it was F*CKING FREEZING. In fact, this of how cold it was:

That's right... layers, god damn layers. The layers were so ineffective i took the extra 'layer' that i had in my bag in case of emergencies (ha!) and used it to make the quality face mask you see above. This mask was the only thing that stopped the burning sensation on my cheeks (yes my friends, that's even through the ginger beard!) although it did nothing to stop the burning in my eyes.

I know what you thinking, we should have gotten back on the bus and gone home. But where would the world be today is Sir Edmund had simply turned tail and ran the first time he discovered that his water bottle, keep inside his bag had frozen solid within about 30 minutes of arrival!!! I mean seriously! (this actually happened, not to Sir Edmund, at least not as far as i am aware, but to Skye, the water bottle was frozen, frozen... think about that... did i mention frozen)

No no, we went there to climb and climb we did. The walk was actually really lovely the scenery was nice and for the first time we were able to see Beijing from a distance without the noise, pollution and general rubbish that normally pollutes the senses in this town. I have to say the place is massive.

I think its difficult to explain to anyone that hasn't experienced Beijing but for the first time in 5 months I heard birds! that's right I heard a noise that was sourced from a non-man made construction... its was amazing.

'twas also amazing that i could still hear at all, my ears, by this stage, were almost completely numb. Poor Skye's ears, on the other hand, were nearly bleeding because I had spent a good part of an hour whinging about the lack of a big jacket and exactly who was to blame for that misunderstanding! I think secretly she wished I hadn't created the face mask and my mouth had gone numb...

Despite natures attempt to kill us (and Skye's attempt to kill me for being such a whinger), we survived the climb and enjoyed the view at the top for about 3 minutes, until a prolonged gust of wind almost cut us clean in half, and we descended.

The view from the top, and the freezing gust of wind causing the 'something about mary' moment.

On the way down, Skye noticed little patches of black ice on the pathway. These little patches were dangerous but more interestingly were seemingly patches of water in a town where there isn't even any humidity, let alone the chance of sporadic rain, then it dawned on us, it wasn't black ice, it was green ice! they were little hockers that the Chinese tourists had left behind... dirty bastards!

Although any budding scientists out there may be able to calculate the actual temperature for us by establishing the freezing point of snot! gross.

Of course, like everything here in Beijing, the fun was actually just beginning. We made it back to the bus stop, freezing, eyes stingy and waiting desperately for the heat of the bus. However, the first sign that something was wrong was when I noticed that the Michelin Man had retired from advertising and taken a little job driving a Beijing bus. The driver had, and I am not making this up:

A woollen beanie -

ear warmers -

a scarf -

at least two 'heavy jackets' -

ski gloves

and the icing on the ridiculous cake - leg warmers on his forearms.

This was not good. We spent an hour in a fridge with wheels. The bus was actually colder than outside because, fearful of catching the flu, some idiots had opened the windows (no doubt the same idiots that drop hockers all over the place, because spitting couldn't possibly contribute to disease!)

We sat there in a hypothermic stupor, wondering whether we would actually survive, for a whole hour, until 1km from the subway station (and a place with guaranteed heat) the bus stopped and the conductor motioned for us all to get out!!!

Ah well we thought, the walk will warm us up. Will it hell. By this stage the sun was down, and the weather had turned nasty, it was freezing and windy, the wind chill must have been peaking (pardon the pun) at about -15 or even -20. Because of the bus trip we had no heat left in our bodies and I was really starting to get concerned. We both looked at each other and with a knowing smile (we couldn't talk by this stage, everything was broken) we ran!!!! we ran like the wind smashing into us to the safety of the subway and warmth.

I was just happy to have survived. Skye crashed out in the train and was an exhausted mess for the rest of the night. I'd like to say I was different, but that ain't the case. Who knew that the cold could sap energy like that!

All in all, it was a great day. Skye enjoyed it, and it was the adventure that we had hoped it would be on her Birthday. I think maybe next time though, we'll accept he burden on possibly having to carrying our heavy coats!!!

Here's a few picks of the place...

Chinese Toilets Part One: Hutong

You knew it was only a matter of time...

OK picture the scene, its early autumn, the air is warm, the sun soft and a light breeze is blowing through the hutong (alleyway), knocking the first leaves of the autumn shed off the trees and onto the street. The picture is lovely, old Chinese men and woman sitting about chatting, young children playing, street vendors selling their wares.

Of course, i haven't noticed any of this because for the last 45 minutes on the subway home from work I have been doing my best Zen Buddhist impersonations to stop myself from wetting my pants! I was absolutely busting beyond anything you can imagine. Half-way through the hutong my bladder gave me a choice, either find a toilet NOW!!!!! or you'll be walking the remaining ten minutes with wet trousers...

Ok, ok, so I've been in China for 3 months now, I've walked through the hutong to the subway maybe 100 times, and I know that every 10 metres there is a public toilet. I know this, not just because I have seen people entering the buildings carrying toilet paper, but because, as you can imagine, in 40 degree heat with that many public toilets in a small area, well, lets just say there is a fragrance that is unmistakable.

I have avoided using these toilets, firstly because they bloody stink, and secondly they are frequented by locals. You see most Hutong houses don't have bathrooms, and so these public toilets aren't so much public as they are communal.

Anyway, so there I stand, either use the hutong toilet, or piss my pants. The choice was obvious...

But given that the sun was still up, and because I'm foreign people tend to notice me, I couldn't wet myself. The hutong toilet it was!

As I entered I realised that rather than using doors, the toilets are designed with a couple of little hallways that turn back on themselves, that way, no one has to touch a filthy door handle, and no-one on the street can see in the toilet area. Upon entering the main chamber, I was almost completely overwhelmed by the stink. I had to close my eyes for a few minutes to stop myself from passing out.

When I opened them, my bladder noticed the urinals on the wall in front of me, and without going into too much detail, I was thankful that I was wearing trousers with a zip and not button fly jeans.

While I was standing there I heard a friendly,

"Ni Hao" (hello)

from behind me. I couldn't turn fully around for obvious reasons, so I just turn my head as far as I could without peeing on the floor, (not sure why this bothered me, the place smelt like someone washed the floor with pee!) but there was no one there... in fact, there was nothing there, nothing at all.

I finished up and turned around properly, again no one there. Unfortunately, before my conscious mind could process what was happening and where the sound was coming from my eyes had already looked down.

staring back at me, in the sort of amazement locals that haven't seen a foreigner up close get, was a lovely chap in full squat, half-way through laying a cable. Toilet paper in one hand, cigarette in the other.

I hadn't noticed due to the smell when I first arrived, but the main chamber was just that, a room about 6 metres by 6 metres, tiled from floor to ceiling and completely empty except the 4 squat toilets in the floor and two urinals on the walls. No cubicles, no sinks, not even an ashtray!!

Oh and not to mention the lovely chap, who by now was finishing off his business and ready to leave with me.

I left, relieved and a little shocked.

I don't know why i was so shocked by it. For many Chinese (usually older or poorer) communal toilets are just a way of life. They don't think about it; at all. Why should they? Why would you waste your thinking on something everyone does, everyday.

Furthermore, who cares if someone is with you while your shitting? I mean really, what sort of weirdo would want to watch someone else take a crap? seriously, you simple go in, do your business and leave. enough said.

How different we are in the west. I can't even poo at work if I hear someone enter the bathroom... and I'm locked, safe and anonymous in a cubicle!! I think the Chinese have it right:

firstly - squat - its healthier for your bowels, and there is no skin contact with any surface
secondly - communal - as the saying goes, 'a community that shits together stays together'

Just to confirm, I have since used several public toilets in china, and none have even come close to the hutong in terms of their communal nature or their smell. All public toilets stink, but that toilet on that day, was something else.

Furthermore, this decline in communal style toilets in China is actually a bad thing. The more they move to more western privacy style toilets, the more they will lose sight of the equality of all people, and so the more they will strive to have more and more, striving to keep up with the Jones's. This will be the end of us all!!

For as the great philosopher Montaigne so eloquently stated,

"Even kings shit!"

anyway, sermon and funny story over!

'Get the Beers In' suffer first loss in 12 games

Well I guess the dream run had to come to an end eventually. After a horrific start to last season, we managed to put a string of wins together up there with the mighty Gers 9 in a row. We were unstoppable, but due to the short season and the general rubbishness of the bottom and middle teams we were unable to catch the two teams ahead of us on the table. So we missed promotion to the top flight by 2 points. An absolute tragedy for our fans... well ok, our fan base consists of 5 members, who it is rumoured are also the team members... but nevertheless it was hard to take.

So, we have just started the new season, and buoyed by our previous success we opened the season with a 6-1 drumming of the 'China Sports Daily' team. you'd think a team made up of sports reporters would be ok... you'd be wrong.

Then we played our new rivals, 'the azzurri', now I know what you're thinking, bloody Italians. But in fact they are a team of 6 or 7 Chinese guys, all of which can play, and at least two of which have a tight perm leading into a delicious mullet.

This is a long season, and we will play everyone twice, but again the middle to lower ranks are rubbish, so its a bit like the SPL, its a two team race, and who draws first blood has the advantage.

The ref (who is a lovely bloke) pulled me aside before the match and said something cryptic in half English half Chinese. I had no idea what he was talking about, so he made it very clear...

"they are very good, they will win"

Yeah thanks mate! I said.

10 minutes in, their lightening pace and ball control meant they were all over us, but we held firm. Shot after shot, we held.

Then, in true poachers style, we nicked a goal. Vere, our giant English midfielder-cum-defender-cum-striker, was in the right place at the right time to slot away a deflected cross.

1-0, and the perm brigade started to panic.

Moments later, Aubrey, our Dutch super star, was wedged between two players about 5 metres out from goal, a third defender was approaching (Chinese do not hack, like Aussies and Brits), so he rolled the ball left as if he was going to try and break through, but half way through the roll, dropped his foot back, and toe poked it at goal...

2-0, and the perms were starting to frizz. I wink at the ref, and give him a big, 'stick that up your arse smile'

After the break they started to get nasty: lots of hacks, and verbal abuse. There's a funny thing, they would slag us in Chinese, we'd slag them in English, neither knew what was being said, but both knew it was nasty... its quite nice, you can't snap in case they aren't talking about you, but you still get fired up, in case they are!

5 minutes to go, and the wheels well and truly fell off the Beers. Two lucky long range curlers put them equal. Then, 1 minute from time, the head perm and trash talking ring leader, looses a shot that Georg "The Hammer" Albertz would have been proud of, and...

2-3 the perms go wild. And the ref winks at me and gives me the 'i told you so' smile... prick!

Getting beat was bad enough, but after he scored, the head perm ran around us yelling:

"win-ah, win-ah, we win-ah"

Devastating. It took me two days to get over it... but never fear as they say in the classics...

NO SURRENDER

we'll beat them next time round and hopefully win the comp on goal difference!

Update and stuff

I've been copping a little flack in the comments section about having posts with just pictures and no words. Naturally I take these comments positively and assume that you all love my magical writing so much and are merely disappointed with the lack of words. So much for a picture saying a thousand words!

Anyway this post is an update, and an update is what you'll get....in words.

Let's start with the lovely Skye. She's great! Irritatingly her Chinese language ability far outweighs mine. She just has a knack for proper pronunciation, which, as you may be aware is all that really matters in Chinese. For example, the sound mei (may), means either buy or sell depending on the tone used. This obviously can create confusion when suddenly the shopkeeper wonders why a foreigner wants to sell her a bottle of water.

Overall I think i've learnt more chinese from Skye than from my chinese teacher!

Skye's job is touch and go at the moment, whilst I'll leave the details up to Skye, essentially she has very little work to do. I can hear many out there saying, 'lucky her', but the reality is that Skye is trying to build her career and its not being helped by doing nothing of any importance, and dealing with a knob of a boss (he's a German Australian cross, and a strange man!) But there are positives of course. She is heading out on a field trip later this week, I can't pronounce where she is going, so I have no hope of spelling it. Its somewhere in Western China though, and it means an opportunity for her to see some of countryside and get out of Beijing for a while.

What's next, ahhh, me of course! It was only a matter of time until I turned my self-indulgent blog back on myself..... Well I am good. As i mentioned my language skills are ok, but i struggle with pronunciation. But then I can't pronounce many English words correctly so I'm not sure what i expected. We all remember, everybuddy! Having said that, I'm also keen to give it a go, and being an English teacher I am also able to demonstrate or sign just about any word. Seriously, if only I could go back in time 60 years, I'd give Charlie Chaplin a run for his money. The combination of bad Chinese and good sign language means I get my meaning across, even if most Chinese people think I'm crazy.

Talking of crazy I have taught my high level students two new and very important English phrases:

"Are you mental?" and
"You are a Muppet!"

Nothing makes me happier than after I have done some bizarre demonstration, or created some crazy game, to hear the kiddies say, 'are you mental?". I'm even laughing now with the thought.

teaching is bloody great. Sure its fun and the kids are great, but I also have the ability to shape young minds, which sounds tacky but its true and important. Often the kids first and main contact with the foreign is with me. If I act weird or strange, they may well believe all foreigners are weird and strange. Its a lot of pressure, but its great. For example, I was recently teaching a class about Famous and Infamous. They gave me a million people that were famous, all Chinese sporting hero's and actors, but they couldn't think of any for infamous, so I helped them out.......... George W Bush! Yay...

As an aside, did you know the Chinese name for George W Bush, in pinyin (the translation from chinese characters to English letters) is 'Bu Shi' (pronounced Boo Sure). Sounds just like 'Bush' with a chinese accent when you say it. This sounds also means, 'Not right'. Bu is not, and Shi is yes or right.

So when he is introduced, he is being introduced as President Not Right. A fair estimation of the man I believe.

I have been reliably informed that this double meaning is not intended, as the actual characters for Bush are not the same as the characters for not correct, they just sound the same. Still in a country where they believe the number 4 is bad luck because it sounds like the word for death, I can't believe they didn't get the joke when the translated his name!

Here's another nice teaching story, that doesn't involve me warping the young minds of Chinese students:

At the end of every small stars class (under 6's) we have to write in what we call the children's Passports. Its just like a weekly report card. I normally write things like, 'Well done Eric, good effort', or if the kid is naughty, "wow, Frank, you have lots of energy", The kid can't understand, and either can the parents, but we do it anyway. As well as writing comments, we also give the kids stickers. Stickers to a Chinese child are extremely important, they are a status symbols and are not be to taken lightly. I found this out first hand, when a little girl, Katherine, got to the front of the passport line, but didn't have her passport. I was forced to send her away sticker-less. I obviously very nicely said, ask your mum where your passport is and come back', well, this was clearly unacceptable, and she opened a barrage of Chinese on me like no other. Absolute nonstop abuse, until her face turned red. This was made worse when I said, "Wo Ting Bu Dong" which means, "I can hear you, but can't understand", I thought she was going to stab me. Meanwhile the other kids, sensing that my life on this earth was coming to an end, were rushing to get their stickers before Katherine killed me with her bare hands.

Filthy on the world and especially me, Katherine spun around and marched out, no doubt to tell her mum that the hairy monster refused to give her a sticker (or in fact the several stickers she deserved for behaving impeccably all class). When she returned she had her mum in toe. Katherine was fuming and her mum was ashen faced as if she too had copped a barrage of abuse. He mother explained that she and not Katherine was to blame for the missing passport and was it possible for Katherine to have a sticker anyway, and placed on her hand. I gave Katherine a sticker, and as if my magic, the anger dissipated, she smiled, gave me a hug and said Bye Bye.

Never, and I mean never, get between a Chinese kid and a sticker. Its not worth it.

Well folks that's about all I got for now. I am planning on writing some retrospective stories about the Great Wall incident, and a few others things that have been going on, but they will have to wait sorry.

Photo's

Here's a whole bunch of photo's of Beijing to give you a feel for the place. Enjoy



Outside the Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square:

The Boss

'Nut Bush City Limits'

The Forbidden City:

Forbidden my arse...

Its huge!

No room for subtley in China...



The lovely Skye taking great photo's.

Check out the blue sky... if you check my previous blog you may see the picture but with a slightly different 'aura'.


The Great Wall:
The wall is very cool. Its also bloody every where. This section is probably the best, because as you can see its almost tourist free!!! There is a story that goes with our visit to the wall, I just haven't had time to pen it. It involves mysterious touts, crazy cab drivers, getting fleeced and at least one near death experience...

Only two shots, the pollution was bad during our visit!

Our House:

Pretty nice, huh!

Our View:

These photo's were taken during the Olympics... hence no cars... the story is very different now!