Guffaws, grunting and gut wrenching fear

14^th February

I lay, eyes closed, palms open and to the side of my body, ankles relaxed allowing the toe end of my feet to fall gently towards the floor. I enjoyed feeling my heart rate slow and my shoulders gradually sink into the yoga mat. ‘Aaaand breathe in through the nose; a long, deep breath; filling up the lungs with fresh, clear air to relax and reward all of the muscles in your body. Thank them for the work they have done today and actually imagine each muscle release and relax. With each acknowledged muscle or body part notice the sensation as they respond to your positive thoughts. Starting with your toes, your ankles, your knees…breathe through to your shoulders, your biceps, triceps, forceps…’
And there it goes!
What was once a relaxing yoga cool down became a battle with myself to contain a guffaw desperate to burst forth. I clenched my hands, bit my lips, focused, focused, focused; forced all images of poised metallic pincers from my mind and somehow, straining, got through the rest of the cool down, my companion none the wiser and evidently rather refreshed – I considered it a job well done.
This followed one of my three weekly ballet practice sessions where this week I managed to impress my colleague and unsuspecting wide eyed students by heaving my leg up to the ballet bar humphing, thumping and grunting like the truly elegant creature that I am then looking around proudly before the faces cracked, and I realised the noises I’d made to get my leg that high resembled closely the grunting of a gagged DIY dungaree clad novice fisherman aged around 76, trying to heave a whale aboard a rickety little boat in scorching heat, whilst simultaneously battling 4 ft waves and suffering a bought of Marlborogh Red inspired chest heaving gasping. As the redness spread across my face, the frozen expressions of those around me broke and they laughed; they laughed heartily. Hamstrings beginning to burn as much as my cheeks, I feigned dignity, ducked my head toward my knee and closed my eyes – I’ll make an elegant swan one day, so I will.
I also intend to speak Chinese well although the crippling fear that shoots through me every time my Mandarin teacher asks me to answer a question is somewhat debilitating. We were uuu-ing and ooo-ing today, identifying the vast although pretty much indecipherable difference in sound between the two when I realised that when the ‘u’ from the ‘uuu’ is written correctly with the appropriate tonal markers, it looks rather like a confused and pretty angry old man (I did venture into doodling different versions which ultimately resulted in the same conclusion). Therein perhaps lays the problem. The test at the beginning of class rendered me somewhat mortified: I’m hesitant to admit but I scored about 8/20. My own fault, of course. If I’ve learned anything from this it is that I must practice what I preach and, well, practice. And not put kids on the spot – gosh it’s like someone’s punched you in the stomach when an answer is required by an expectant teacher!
Other news this week: I am delighted to announce that I am the proud owner of a small, square, one person frying pan. It’s amazing. The size of a small Hovis slice, it is efficient, easy to handle, useful and perfect for frying one egg. I love it. I momentarily queried my initial excitement at buying such a revealing kitchen utensil but on reflection the pure delight I was to gain from using it reigned supreme. I also discovered that rum may well have an expiry date and a consumer of the rum in question would do well to note that and double check bottles bought in dodgy Chinese supermarkets for a surprisingly cheap price. I have dined twice this week on corn-on-the-cob, once on pizza (again) and once on curry – proper English curry which I enjoyed before moving on to a ‘pub’ and amazing pretty much everyone by being expertly poor at pool, even though I had only moments before loudly informed them I was very good at it. Strangely, or perhaps not, to be in a pub playing pool and watching football on screens through clouds of cheap Chinese cigarette smoke felt safe, secure and ‘normal’ (although I have to admit, the smoke got a bit much after a while). Does this mean I must venture to a pub every time a wee bought of homesickness or insecurity hits? Gosh, I will have to be careful with that medicinal inclination.
Next week being Chinese New Year means that I have a week off work – smashing! I would have gone away but bloody bastard telephone company in Dubai have a lot to answer for! Anyone leaving Dubai MUST, must, must make sure they close the account – I thought I had, even had paperwork to prove it – but according to them, I hadn’t and was due in court! Grrrrrrr. Still, it’s sorted now, a momentary low point adequately dealt with and I shall be free to pass through the UAE without being detained, quizzed or prodded in the future. Enforced leisure time in Shanghai will be fun though. I intend to enjoy lunching, relaxing, writing, probably drinking and there are enough people around to ensure that I will be sufficiently entertained. I shall write when I can although not being at work will limit my resources somewhat. Oh and don’t forget the rugby! I intend to stay tooooooooop! I’m changing my team name to ‘yes, I am bloody well taking this seriously’.
Must go now, I believe my forceps are aching somewhat – must be all the typing!
Have a splendid weekend, most beloved friends and family.
Young Kerrence xxxxx