China Blog 2

My last piece was a brief overview of some of the stuff I've been up to in the past month and a half or so, yet I only wish I started writing earlier so that I could record each week as it had gone by and captured the feeling of the moment as it were. As this result this blog and the last, as well as ones forthcoming may not be in any specific chronological order, with little shards of thought resurfacing at sporadic intervals. But hey, its always good to mix things up.

I guess I'll start by describing my typical day here in Liuzhou. As there are only three foreign teachers in the school (myself and a Ghanaian couple, Cosmos and Freda), the teaching schedule is pretty heavy. I was told in previous years that the school has had five or six foreign teachers at one time, which would have certainly spread the workload out, but I'm enjoying being busy, the nature of the work constantly pushes your creativity. Luckily I don't have too many early starts, the only killer being getting up at 7am on Friday for a 7.40 lesson. I am usually awoken at a random time by the thudding of what can only be described as early nineties rave music regurgitated and spat out under the shine of glossily produced modern Chinese techno (anyone familiar with J-pop or Canto-pop may know what I mean). I am yet to find the source of this disturbance, but it's certainly strange seeing as I live in a rather residential area with only a few local stalls and shops nearby. This sound is soon eclipsed however by the school's PA system echoing out classical music while a prerecorded voice counts to ten over the top, almost in a military like fashion. I discovered that this occurs three or four times a day between classes, and the students are made to relax and massage their facial muscles to the rhythm in order to maintain their focus and attention in school.

My apartment is literally next door to the school which is pretty handy so I can usually get up not too long before my lessons start and stroll in under the aid of coffee and cake (yes they eat cake for breakfast!), enough to sustain a buzz which is often required for teaching. My lessons are forty minutes each which is a nice length of time, usually the first ten minutes is spent just chatting about a random topic just thrown up, then about twenty minutes "real" work, ending with a game to finish the lesson on a lighthearted note. As my Chinese is currently reasonably limited, I have to establish meaning via various gestures, drawing and other physical animations which the students often find amusing. I also take as much opportunity in the classes as I can to brush up on my Chinese, asking the students to translate English words and phrases for me which they seem more than happy to do; often staring wide-eyed in waiting for my attempts to speak their tongue. Their Chinglish is much better than my Engnese. After the day is done teaching I sometimes hang around the school for a bit, either soaking in the nice weather, grabbing some food at the cafeteria or finding some teachers or students to talk to. There's quite a few kids here who really have an impressive grasp of English, and aren't shy to speak it freely. Most people in China under the age of thirty have some knowledge of the language, with it being taught in schools in a similar way in which Spanish or French is taught in England. Unless they have aspirations to pursue their studies at a higher level, then most of what they learned in school is shelved or forgotten. However it seems now under that under the gigantic umbrella which is the ever progressive presence of China in the modern world, English is being attended to in a very assertive manner. The current generation of students are encouraged to speak and learn the language in their everyday lives, coupled with extra lessons, private tuition and increasing exposure to western media and ideology. With the rapid industrialization and modernity occurring in China now, these potentially bilingual kids will be thrown into an environment that will be very different to that of previous generations.

The other night I met Jimmy and girlfriend Alex (many English speaking Chinese people have anglicized names, ranging from "John" and "Robert" to "GoGo" and "Lovely") for dinner, and he introduced me to some of his old schools friends who were visited the city, some of whom had made it big in Hong Kong and Guangzhou. After a civilized introduction and relaxed meal the evening took an interesting turn with the introduction of Chinese liquor and champagne. Many people say that Asians have little alcohol tolerance, I've found both truths and falsities in that since I've been here, but these guys were hardcore. Drinking games are often played here, one favorite being "guess the number" where two people hold up a random number of fingers each, and the person to guess the total amount of fingers held up wins, with the loser doing a shot. Its very fast, very loud, and from a distance looks like an anarchic take on rock paper scissors. Despite frequent offers from my new acquaintances to join the chaos, I insisted I wasn't a liquor type of guy and chose to sit back and enjoy the festivities. After a couple of hours, the crowd slowly began to disband and Jimmy, Alex and I were left with the duty of carrying one very drunk business executive to his plush apartment in the city, where we were invited in by a very dismayed looking wife to drink tea whilst keeping the bloke occupied.

One thing thats astounded me here is the strong feeling of unity and brotherhood that these people have. From the people I've met so far, I've noticed a real sense of togetherness, of group significance. Jimmy told me that a frequent term of address to a friend is to call them brother or sister, which is meant as a true sign of respect and closeness. Also, whenever I've been out to dinner or out to a bar, theres a culture of the host or organizer paying for the whole group; I've often walked into a coffee house of bar to find pre-ordered food and drinks on the table. Whenever I've flashed my wallet and produced some money to pay what in England would be my fair share, I'm met with looks of genuine confusion and am told to put my money away. I have felt a little guilty in being catered for and spending next to nothing, but I guess thats the westerner in me; money doesn't talk it swears. I guess that now I am getting used to these customs of the people of the People's Republic of China, to which as a person I am becoming one of their peoples. I'd promised I'd take some friends out to pizza hut sometime anyway.

Thoughts on China so far

It recently came to my attention in the haze of a lazy Sunday that I hadn't really done much writing in regard to my time in China. Just several photos and some silly poems revolving around my western perception of the goings on here. I've been here for a month now and I guess I've just started to feel settled; got my own place and am getting to now Liuzhou more and more each day (albeit via my misguided orienteering expeditions). I'm also enjoying teaching and although its very draining there's a good sense of fulfillment and some of the kids are great; perhaps one of the few professional environments where the bumbling Englishman can exist without ridicule, the kids love it whenever I spill water on the floor, smash into doors etc etc.

My first two weeks were spent in a small town called Yangshuo. Nestled amid rolling karst mountain scenery and with the Li River flowing through it, it was a gentle introduction into the lifestyle and culture here, being a hotspot for backpackers and fellow teachers, English was widely spoken and the place had many westerner owned bars, restaurants and coffee houses (though the Dutch one was a little disappointing). The place had a Chinese feel as well with the typical ancient pagodas, the ubiquity of Chairman Mao's face, and noodle stalls. In between a hectic schedule including teacher training, Chinese lessons, and various excursions to local beauty spots, I met many cool and interesting people there from all over the globe with stories to tell and wisdom to share. The usual gathering place was the Aussie run Buffalo bar where many bottles of Li Quan beer are downed amid a strange feeling of international harmony; the nail in the coffin being meeting a Frenchman who didn't wince when I said where I came from. Excuse the minor racial slur.

After these two weeks of, well, fun! The time came to start teaching. There were positions available in the various bilingual schools in Yangshuo, offering accommodation and a decent local wage. I decided however that I didn't want to stay in Yangshuo, there wasn't really a true feeling of being in an uncomfortable yet rich and tempting environment, which is what I came to China for. Everything was at my feet and in easy reach: The English language, veggie food, and of course British humour. I was told by our lovely coordinator Isabella that there was a position in a school in Liuzhou, about three hours drive south of Yangshuo, so our wonderful guide Wen-Tao assisted me on the bus down there, to which I am very grateful to considering the amount of drink and dodgey late night barbecue consumed the night prior. On arrival, we were greeted by the school deputy head Mrs Zhou and an English teacher named Joanna, who speaks very good English and was always happy to help out with any queries regarding the city or the school. After being whisked round the downtown area and being given a tour of the school it was time to get the long bus home to Yangshuo.

I've been in Liuzhou for just over three weeks now, and am gradually getting to grips with being stared at wherever I go - I'm guessing someone over six foot with curly ginger locks isn't too common here - I'm slowly learning Chinese and am meeting some wonderful people. One being the music teacher Jimmy, renowned for his antics and showing foreign teachers a good time. Last night Jimmy, myself, and a few of his friends went to the Asian phenomenon which is KTV karaoke, featuring many drinks and awful renditions of Blondie's "Picture This" by yours truly. One of the highlights of the evening was meeting a guy who seemingly in jest said he could arrange me a Chinese girlfriend. This apparent lightheartedness this was quashed later on when three girls came in through the door and he bellowed "YOU....CHOOSE....I PAY!". Assuming what stood before me was what I thought it was, I proceeded to say in a very English manner "thanks but no thanks".

Theres plenty of other musings and stories to share, but I really need to get down to some lesson planning. In summary, the weather is very hot and humid. Till next time! x

....

Blind Fox







The wrap of such a ghastly entail divides our senses
Every day the heat rises and courses through my aisle
The crystals and swords paint their glinting spheres in glee
Throwing their wild remoulds and jesting for a spree

But to delve into this frozen delight cursed with longing
To grasp the bolted chain of dust so unbeknown
Darkens the rose upon the misty moor it has grown
Where the spirits waken behind the mirrors that show

Windy roads and foreign eyes that once dressed this smile
Ghostly trials and ripping tides that fell like the evening sun
Rear their crimson faces like the dead reborn
Cowering these brown eyes once free from craving scorn

So the blind fox feeds upon these trifling curds of old
Pressing his green plat paws on the brow locked in cold
The medicine seeps on wounds once dry and closed
For the pages have rose to reopen their gleaming show

See this hungry life player sleep upon his rusty pose
Till the dormant fires rise and engrave the arm to stab
Each burnt out fuse lost amid the oceans of the had
Opening the crusts of dire plains and heavens once glad
Until the past shall cast the fox from its grove of drag




I Go Where the Flowers Grow






You know me friend, I go where the flowers grow
Where the light shines and prosper doesn’t hide
Where the colour is vast against the warmth of my glow
Where new tasks await; new highs and lows to contemplate

I leave behind old flames and withered pasts
Friends, places and emotions not up to my task
I leave behind memories happy and sad
To dwell amongst the present is not to be had

Towards the sun, the sky, and the desired gleam
Away from darkness, the freeze, and established dreams
Towards new hope, new horizon, new prayer
Away from the onset of dry, dusty dim wares

So friend I leave you with little, save this final thought
Don’t hold me in angst, for I will soon return, well taught
With the circles of change firmly in place
Old flowers will bloom, and I’ll remember your face




Poem 2




Heads on rails
Moving like sails
Where my mind entails
In the fruit store of necessity
Dancing like soiled shadows
Steering with wheels that harrow
With legs in the hail
Moving like snails
Only the blind can cure the frail

Oh and sing for songs of lost reveal
With twisting strain
In the grappling rain
Where I seek to abstain
Life in its fiery pain
Oh save the final breath
Your teeth scarred with stain
And laugh with looming death
With blue eyes that spin webs

So swivel your head
Till you view love’s lead
In each stone washed thread
Where the spirits keep
Each merciful faith
Inside the stars that weep
Every tear of solemn grace
And all poets unsure to speak



Spoken/Slurred







Oh why upon this flowery pedestal do the wayfarers shout
The books of love and fields of clouds shatter high above
The black coated scribe barks and beckons through a wintry hive
Coiling each quill and dark mark with beauty, precision and pride

Not a full age further do we spit upon the endless coloured sleeve
Swilling and sparking each hope with tongues of mud and bone
Sons of gods that nod and jest upon golden pages as if stone
I watch and wave and glance through haze, damning these words I own

Crudeness and liquor spawn vital beats, dressing the lonely pawn
Till the hours have dropped from the antique clock
Disheartened leaves cloak the dust of dead smiles and eyes
While the wayfarers breathe their heavy sleaze, coarse, cold and dry

And upon the mythic stone carved upon the wily old phase
We see feathers gust through ears that scar the golden tome
Slurring the whirl of words that creep asleep yet so well tuned
While the pained response cowers and shrinks under the burning moon

Holy charts that once hung well in halls painted without cream
Now tatter with the sticks of revoke sharpened blue and imbued
Till the morning comes and sweeps the brush of slumbered minds
For the wayfarer’s mouth builds its violent cry, pitiful and sublime