A few older posts to paint a picture of a weekend a year ago while I construct a blog that tells of the summer of 2016; a return to Shanghai when everything had changed but nothing had changed and finally finding a foothold in this most colourful of places.
10th September 2015
Crickey! Three whole days of sunshine, blue skies and pollution levels of less than 70! No need for the mask today! If one was not stuck in one’s classroom – teaching of all things – one might be able to sit out of doors and enjoy a cool beer whilst breathing with neither hesitation nor fear that what you’re sniffing in is conveniently disintegrating the nasal hair you (dismayed) found this morning.
Of course I exaggerate: nasal hair has not yet become a problem. The beard, however…
I am very much enjoying the sunshine, especially today when I strolled around the school grounds for part of my lunch break. In the 15 minute escape I managed to assail my companion’s ear with the bullet fired niggles of the day and disgust her with the proud introduction of my new friend: tiredness manifest, the sty/boil/lump clinging to my upper eyelid – on the left as you look at me – be both shockingly ugly and rather uncomfortable. It’s been interesting though, watching people deliberately not looking at it. I’ve rather enjoyed tilting my head slightly back and to the side to see how long it takes for the attempted subtle realisation of my pupils and colleagues
14th September – banished to the sofa
When I finished season three of Sons of Anarchy today, a realisation dawned on me. Firstly, that I had not used my voice all day. Secondly, that I was actually quite attached to Jax Teller and wasn’t sure whether I was ready to cease and/or sever our relationship as yet – however one sided that relationship might be. Thirdly, that for three weeks in a row I had placed exactly the same order from the online shopping company I am now prone to using. Cumulatively, I suspect that these three admissions suggest something about my character that I am not quite ready to explore.
Of course I only had the one solitary day this weekend and this isolation was self-inflicted. My body had decided that my left eye stalactite was not possibly interesting enough and so introduced the ‘infected slug’ to my eyelid. It was fairly revolting although thankful for small mercies, not weepy. Hesitant to avoid scoffs, I attempted to hide the inflamed mound of lumpiness behind sunglasses and a cleverly placed fringe. However, the growing heat filled swelling would peep round until it was noticed thence pulsate in gratified contentment: a glowing mass below the forehead.
Was my infected lumpy eyelid a result of Chinese water, dirt, a sty, a bite, all or any of the above? Who knows but now it is reducing and by Monday evening, maybe Tuesday I am hoping for normalcy. Besides my house-arrest, I experienced good and bad of China this weekend, Art in The City being a creative and exciting adventure much needed.
However, as I attempted to print some photographs at the mall this weekend, I was ignored and slighted by shop staff who flat out refused to acknowledge my presence in their shop. Chinese people stepped in front and even they seemed to feel awkward as sales staff determined in their rudeness. I may have uttered a swear word as I left the shop, defeated, a little dejected and certainly devoid of the photographs I had intended to collect. I’d even tried to speak Chinese!
It got me thinking though. It got me thinking about my reaction to things here. How it is so very important, if one is to maintain sanity, to acknowledge the obvious: that China is not England, and my values, morals and the things I assume are common sense, simply are not. And this does not have to be a bad thing. It might be uncomfortable, infuriating and occasionally the catalyst for enormous self restraint but it is not my place to change any of it. If someone hawks and spits on the floor in front of me, I should not judge or feel compelled to vomit on their feet in reply. This careful contemplation was set in motion, you see, one morning as I sat on the bus considering the important music selection for the day; eyes down, I was arrested by the sudden flood of warmth and sunshine as we turned a corner. I closed my eyes momentarily to soak it up. Before I knew it, my bask was stolen by a vicious yank to the curtain next to me. As my eyes flew open, I discovered an arm in my face. Across my face. In my effing face. I was furious! Furious because the woman next to me had decided that the briefest of flashes from the sunshine would turn her and her daughter to dust, her daughter, who had been kicking my ankles since she sat down needed immediate and effective salvation so ‘mother’ had taken it upon herself to reach across my face (have I already mentioned that) and pull the curtain.
I had to think about this. My reaction, I mean. Do I swear, deliver a death glance and place the curtain back into its plasic hulster? Do I enquire from her her possible motivation and reasoning for having been so rude as to invade my personal space so severely by thrusting her arm in my face and removing the view which I was intending to allow to blur while I enjoyed my music. Was it because she was Chinese? Would a Brit have done such a thing? I assume that invariably a Brit would have tapped me lightly on the arm and asked if I would mind – to which I would ultimately have said ‘of course not, go ahead’. Therefore if I react in a very British way, will my sentiment be lost? I looked at her. Really looked. I looked at her daughter and decided that angry protestation would could be perceived as aggressive due to the child’s presence and I would subsequently become the monster of the situation. I considered whether this made me weak – others would simply have torn the curtain back again. However, my decisions have tended to be quite passive this weekend. To the excessively rude woman on the bus, I did nothing other than turn Kasabian up REALLY loud and turned my back as I revealed enough of the window for me to gaze through. To the horrid men in the shop I did nothing other than call them rude ***** and head to the massage shop to buy myself a consolatory foot massage. While I was photographless, I didn’t want it to be a wasted trip to the mall!
So I reckon, even though the ‘rudeness’ that I deem ‘rudeness’ is difficult to take, if I can avoid confrontation where confrontation is unnecessary, I am the winner and I need to accept that here in China, ‘rudeness’ is not necessarily always ‘rudeness’. Although, whether I could have remained so calm if her hair had touched my bare arm, or if she ever does that to me again…
I was tempted to frighten them both by lifting my sunglasses and unleashing the beast but thought that could have been a step too far! Here’s to hippie happy and calm contemplation – let’s see how long it lasts.
27th October 2015 – Dreamy
I apologise. It’s been a while and I was reminded yesterday that some of you might like to know what’s currently going on for me in China!
I shall start in a bustling courtyard on a sunny Sunday morning; the buzz of people echoed by the hazy fuzz in my head: a result of an evening on cheap white wine. Sat on rickety metal stools before wooden half crate tables, my breakfast: a huge Bloody Mary and a pan of shashuka arriving just as I plonked down. Perfect. Added to this was the Rolling Stones greatest hits playing in the background and the barrage of well-intended ridicule heading my way for my apparent flirtation with a quantum physicist the night before – I didn’t get anywhere and he ignored my pleasant greeting on Monday, may I add. Can’t imagine how my charm was resisted in that situation although I do recall asking him to ‘dumb it down’ a couple of times?
It was a great start to a strange day. I’m not sure if it was the Bloody Mary topping up the alcohol from the night before or the tiredness from a hectic term combined with post-holiday blues causing a hallucinatory state or perhaps I had an extreme sugar high (I found an old school sweet shop and quickly ate about 30 foam mushrooms, lest they disappear) but my journey home was interesting. I became obsessed with the girl walking in front of me: her side ponytail and undercut; her matt & battered red rucsac (which I decided I needed) and her skinny legs – how the bloody hell did they carry her let alone a funky backpack filled with something blatantly arty and interesting? Anyway, before I knew it, she’d disappeared and my feet had taken me to the plant market near my house. It wasn’t an unpleasant place to awaken after a reverie and I continued to walk among the foliage fingertips brushing leaves until I was drawn to two particularly lovely plants which I promptly bought (about 3gbp in total), making friends with the stall holder with whom I could not converse but was compelled to hug.
Anyway, after all this excitement, I headed home and had a nap before heading out again for a Stella and a couple of tacos.
All that in one day! I know! Exciting eh? Of course there is lots to tell and of course, I am late and have to leave work imminently but please know that I am fine, happy and fully functioning, even without the aid of the radioactive yet still ‘natural’ plums that everyone here seems to eat (I’ll fill you in another time!).
She went to Shanghai 