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.

31 December 2003

New Year's Eve 2003 

Too many people.

Too many people driving to the Bund to watch fireworks, thus turning a 20 minute cab ride into a 60 minute gridlock nightmare. Too many people standing around the centre of town, cramming the streets so that movement was impossible. Eventually arrived at the nightclub at 11.40, thanks to a detour involving walking round in circles through a department store. Too many people in the club itself, making getting served something of a hit-and-miss business. Not to mention Windows, venue number two in Maoming Lu, where even breathing was impaired due to the crush.

Then, what did I expect? Buddhist monks in silent prayer? Kind of asked for it really, I suppose.
Posted by: Sendover / 23:59

30 December 2003

Nuffink to Blog About 

Because I have quarantined myself in my pit for the last three days suffering from a heavy cold.

This has, however, given me the chance to finish off this year's marking. Have no idea if there is any rhyme or reason in my grading system but everyone has got about a B. They can like or lump it.

Also began my crack at immortality by commencing the proofreading of an English textbook. This was the upshot of some mysterious text messaging on Xmas day. A Professor Zhou at prestigious Shanghai Jiaotong University required a native speaker to correct his manual. For a certain amount of money which I shall not disclose, it's worth putting off travelling for a week. Just remains to be seen a) whether he will follow through with it and b) how I will get my paws on the wonga.
Posted by: Sendover / 18:39

28 December 2003

How the Other Half Lives 

Following an abortive afternoon lunch in town, it was off to Hongqiao for the long-awaited curry night.

We knew that the place would pull no punches when we drew up at the main gate. Le Chateau, it said emblazoned in gold lettering. And it certainly was.

American Beauty had reign over the house for a week, dogsitting for her friend who was back in the US for Christmas. You could see why she jumped at the chance. All the things the English-teacher-style expat can only dream of. Cleanliness. Heating. Working utilities. Cupboards stuffed to bursting with imported goods.

In fact, the palpable taste of wealth manifested itself most visibly in the decorations. Every free space in the house was used for some kind of non-tacky Christmas ornamentation. It was the most festive house I've ever seen. You can see a limited amount in the illustration (left).

Despite this, still had problems sorting out the curry due to lack of adequate pan capacity but muddled through and did quite well considering. We were also treated to a display of traditional Indian dance as only a Romanian knows how. Settling down for more humiliation at Trivial Pursuits, my stomach ached with the consumption.

Put me in opulent surroundings like the Intercontinental or this expat palace and I can't help myself. Perhaps I just want to believe that I could be living this kind of life - so utterly removed from the average Chinese and even the average westerner in this unequal land.
Posted by: Sendover / 14:42

26 December 2003

Boxing Day 

Straight back to work, sitting through another 40 tedious assessment talks about unoriginal topics, though a couple of students shone with perspectives on the one chiled policy.

Off to the spice shop with Simona, only to find it closed. Begging bowl trip round to the partner restaurant and the shutters flew up in no time. I now have enough spice to launch another man into space (work that one out).

Evening spent attempting to play 'Pop Culture Trivial Pursuits' only to find that being an American is a distinct advantage to answering US-centric questions.
Posted by: Sendover / 14:03

25 December 2003

Christmas in Shanghai 

...in many other ways, just like any other day. Just don't miss it at all. In fact, took the opportunity to get some work done on Living in China.

In the afternoon, made an effort: conference call to my family at The Barnhouse in Cumbria; helped out preparing a token Christmas dinner (two Chinese chickens impersonating the turkey); viewed and strangely enjoyed The Sound of Music on DVD; listened to the Queen's Christmas message on streaming radio.

For my first Christmas away from home, not a bad one. But I reiterate - I don't miss it. The pressure to buy and receive presents, tedious village services, travelling by train in the peak periods. The one thing that is just the same is the relentless commercialisation of the event. In China, despite being an oficially atheist country, you can't move for cheap plastic Christmas trees, Santa hats and all the other trimmings. A country on the make seems to embrace this aspect of Christmas like nothing else.
Posted by: Sendover / 22:57

24 December 2003

Five Star 

Jenny has some fantastic guanxi. For example, my Christmas Eve was not spent shivering at home watching re-runs of CCTV9's Dialogue with 'a real Swedish Santa Claus' and some Holiday Inn hotel manager who was some kind of Christmas expert. No, I was dining at the lavish Pudong Intercontinental Hotel. All for the price of a box of Belgian chocolate starfish.

I had never heard of a 'seafood Christmas' function before, but am not one to look a 688 RMB (US$80) gift horse in the mouth. There was more than ample opportunity to overindulge; smoked salmon, oysters, roast potatoes, brussel sprouts and a range of Chinese food for the mainly Chinese (well, all but me) guests.

Wine didn't flow as much as I might have liked and the food was a little cold by the time we got there, but who cares? Highlight was getting the last scrap of Christmas pudding and mince pie. That's a major coup considering.

Entertainment was also a bit varied, ranging from a girl band with a scratchy CD to a magiciam who didn't really seem to do much magic. When the pink-gowned lady came on to squawk out some folk-style stuff Jenny and I took the opportunity to take a walk around the complex, and gazed down on the party from the vertiginous 24th floor. Next act, the string trio, wasn't so bad.

Atmosphere was a little more subdued than I expected, but it was explained to me that the Chinese aren't really night people and moreover had to go to work tomorrow. Plus, much of the evening was committed to rapturous attention for the raffle, which had some pretty damn fine prizes. A ticket at our table walked off with the fourth prize hamper, which looked like a smart move.

Such was my first trip to Pudong and first occasion without any other westerners around, not really a big issue. Jenny raised concerns as I walked her home that I would get lost, but few places have felt safer. I did have to think hard about how to get back, but maybe I'm as clever as I look.
Posted by: Sendover / 22:57

23 December 2003

Asiavision Song Contest 

"The more they tried to make it feel like home, the further away it seemed." Capt. Willard, Apocalypse Now.

In true SHUFE style, hours before it was due to start we were intsructed to go and attend the students' special Christmas concert. We duly did, knowing exactly what to expect.

It was execrable.

For a start, since when has a Christmas goodie bag contained (alongside the oranges and Santa hat) a Big Mac meal? With Coke? And why was there an encore of the nu-metal version of Wham's 'Last Christmas I Gave You my Heart'? Just so the pretty boy-band-wannabe could bust his throat again shrieking into the microphone like a moggie swimming in a barrel of battery acid?

The general principle was that each nation represented among the foreign students had to do a performance of some sort. Kind of like an Asiavision song contest but without the acerbically witty terry Wogan voiceover. I shall not go on, but this included enough tedious national songs - sung with pride but not talent - to last a lifetime.

So I'll stick to the highlights, such as the unreasonably fit Turkish girl - who somehow I have never seen before - proving that a buff body does not mean a silky voice. The Korean in her slinky Chinese split dress who for all the world appeared to be doing a striptease. The moment when I laughed out loud during the murder of Clapton's 'Tears in Heaven' at its otherwise most poignant juncture.

There were some decent performances, such as from the Asian Missie Elliot lookalike, the diametric opposite of the Turk. And the finale, an admittedly impressive boy band routine by three young chaps who evidently spent far too much time practising South Central-stylee hip hop and breakdancing.

It was entertaining for the wrong reasons, and I was glad to get out since my ears were beginning to throb.

China - nul points.
Malaysia - nul points.
Thailand - nul points.
Japan - nul points.
Korea - nul points.
Pakistan - nul points (went well over the time limit, otherwise not bad).
Congo - one point (for Frank's funky moves).
France - nul points.
Turkey - two points (for being sexy).
Russia - nul points.
Posted by: Sendover / 21:54

22 December 2003

Complications 

An enjoyable lunch laid on by the department, though did have to scoot early and face cheeky Lenny's (right) talk on the changing nature of Chinese womanhood with an achingly full stomach. Plus yi ping pijiu. Yikes. Hope my teachers never did my exams in that condition when I was a lad.

Then had to do some counselling for lovelorn student. Still not sure if I said the right things but she seemed to feel better for talking about it. Managed to completely forget the purpose of my Newspaper Reading class (ie. to finish off the oral presentation coursework) and was left with six nervous students raring to go after I wound up the lesson. Must demand better competence from myself next semester. Sen: tries hard but could do better.
Posted by: Sendover / 21:33

21 December 2003

Post-Ballet Kebab 

For reasons I shall keep to myself I hate swans. So it was with anticipation that I looked forward to their metaphorical slaughter in the renowned Tchaikovsky ballet.

Hang on. Ballet. I paid money to go to ballet. I even stood around for half an hour in the numbnut-numbing Shanghai cold while Simona engaged in protracted negotiations with the ballet ticket touts, only for them to walk away and try to flog the goods elsewhere.

I sat there, in the Shanghai Grand Theatre, for three hours with nothing but a Snickers to sustain me. Yet I actually enjoyed it. OK, it was the Bolshoi ballet. Specifically the Academic Bolshoi Theatre of the Republic of Belarus, not exactly sure if that's the same thing. Whatever. Felt that in any case I shouldn't really miss the opportunity to go to a world-class art event for just 12 quid.

Rapid review: didn't like the bits in the castle, and the male dancers' performances were somewhat flawed. Rest of it was good though. Especially the bit when the four swans danced together in a little row and also the bit where that baddie got his wing ripped off.

Ah, that's better, feel that I have expunged some of the culture from my soul after that priggish display of philistinism. Also had a kebab afterwards, though it was a rather posh kebab in a Xinjian restaurant.

What am I becoming? I don't recognise myself any more...
Posted by: Sendover / 23:17

20 December 2003

Ming Musings 

Having never put down museums as centres for social intercourse, this afternoon's excursion enlightened me considerably. Accompanied by Jenny from the theatre wiled away several hours perusing spiky bronze bells, the works of the eight eccentrics, various Ming vases and some 1000-year-old art deco make up dishes.

She certainly is an educated woman and the exhibits provided plenty food for conversation. Probably learned more about Chinese culture in one afternoon that I have in the four months since I arrived here. Got to know Jenny a bit better too. Found that we disagree on many points. I like cats; she is scared of the creepy way they walk. She likes horses; I think they have silly legs. I like old furniture; she is scared of its aura of dead people. Will concede that upon seeing the sinister stuff in the museum can see her point. I am a gentle, humble year-of-the-rabbit man; she is a go-getting successful snake-goddess woman.

Despite all this got on jolly well. Rather foolishly turned down an invitation to Xmas party at a five-star Pudong hotel, but hopefully my backtrack has been registered.
Posted by: Sendover / 19:50

19 December 2003

Shanghai Bloggers' Meet 

Yep, bloggers actually meeting up and talking to each other. Scary. But all nice chaps and chapesses. Felt a bit self-conscious though about whether we fulfilled Amber and Bhudda Bar's coolness manifesto. But what the hell. Next morning also had a bad feeling but it wasn't self-consciousness. Urk.
Posted by: Sendover / 23:38

More Griping 

Yeah, 'fraid so. But I just can't understand this. The temperature in Shanghai at the moment is comparable to what it would be in London. Perhaps around 2 or 3 degrees Celsius. So why does it feel so cold?

This can't be normal. The cold here isn't the same as in England. It's somehow more penetrating. No matter how much you wear it gets inside you and eats away at your vital organs. I'm currently using two duvets and two blankets at night and it's still not enough. God help the kids, who aren't allowed heaters in their dorms due to the fire risk. Granted, after the Moscow tragedy the authorities are jittery - and there must be at least 500 students living in each small building - but I'd be primarily concerned about hypothermia and SARS.

Even worse, yesterday the water packed up again, leaving me without a flushing toilet or adequate bathing arrangements for 24 hours. I just didn't bother leaving my room.

Another interesting session doing these five-minute oral exams. One student decided to talk about his home town, Shanghai, and it emerged that he's never actually been outside the city. Others are the same - I showed them a picture of a cow at the fair in my mum's village and they went crazy. "A cow! A cow! We've never seen one!"

Best of all, and I'm not sure whether this was ego gone mad or some deeper disturbance, one student decided to talk to me about how beautiful she was. I must say that she is the best-looking girl in any of my classes, but please. In fact, I'm now a little worried about the lass, who doesn't seem to be enjoying her good fortune in the boat race department at all.

Here she is then, a real cracker I have to say.
Posted by: Sendover / 17:43

17 December 2003

Quote of the Day 

During an oral English exam. Student's chosen subject; traditional Chinese food.

Teacher: "Tell me how you might be able to learn how to cook better."
Student: "Well, I did use to work in MacDonalds."

Ayarskyerr.

Did feel for beaten-and-broken wannabe student poet 'Dinosaur' today: approaching me after the exam, he started telling me how he was neglecting his English study to pursue his hobby, writing. What is this kid doing in a business school? It's criminal really.
Posted by: Sendover / 22:27

16 December 2003

Equal and Opposite 

Karma. Or ying and yang. Whatever. I believe that for every bad thing that happens, something good lies in wait. Maybe not around the corner, but eventually, one day. Perhaps.

So, bad things that happened today. Or things that I engineered via my own ineptitude. Whichever. Totally lost my Internet connection for the whole day after unplugging 'puter to charge mobile phone. Spent an entire hour disorientated, wandering around the Hui Hai Lu area in search of the hooky market. Finally unearthed it, but by this time was in a state of such wretched apathy that I just bought the first things I saw, without taking the trouble to shop around or even to get what I had actually set out to get.

Still, a 'Ralph Lauren Polo' V-neck and a 'Hugo Boss' sweater for RMB 255 (US$30) wasn't bad going 'spose.

Today, though, the karmic icing and raison de boulanger this cake of retribution was an unexpected phone call. The girl whom I had met at the theatre last week, Jenny, rang to tell me that she had complementary tickets for the China Symphony Orchestra tonight; would I like to escort her? Well, yes of course.

So it was that I experienced yet another cultural deflowering: first ballet, then contemporary dance, now classical music. Dvorak and Tchaikovsky on violins and brass. Immense. Once again, I actually enjoyed it. Beginning to frighten myself; to where is my oikish exterior facade slipping?

Even asked Jenny in passing what she was up to next weekend, and arranged to visit the museum with her. So, for every round of incompetence today there seems to have come a moment of class. Nice one, Sendover.
Posted by: Sendover / 22:15

15 December 2003

My Enemy's Enemy 

Attempted to gauge reactions from the kids by launching the Saddam news as a discussion topic. Most seemed relatively favorable towards Sunday's events, but one made a telling remark:

"I wish to quote from a book. 'My enemy's enemy is my friend'. And America and China have had some troubles in the past..."

A brilliant post on Living in China today: an interview with a flagbearer from the Shanghai demo that ran in parallel to the 1989 Tiananmen Square protest. Well worth a look.

Meanwhile, Living in India begins to kick off. Even held a successful-seeming exam with the newspaper class, though the propspect of marking 55 papers is unappealing.
Posted by: Sendover / 22:31

Question 

So, if they can find one man at the bottom of a hole, why can't they find hundreds of tonnes of WMD?
Posted by: Sendover / 11:18

14 December 2003

So What Now? 

Looks kind of biblical, doesn't he? But I'm prepared to bet that he wasn't commanding the insurgency from his hidey-hole in the desert. No-one's in charge of the so-called 'Saddam loyalists' because they aren't really 'Saddam loyalists'. They're anti-American occupation, and that's the crux of the matter.

Not noted for its significance as an international news channel, state TV broadcast a live programme on today's events.

At first, coverage via CCTV9, the state English language channel, was typically inept and uncertain with scenes of the empty press conference prior to the entry of the speakers. The station did however have a pre-prepared Saddam biography. This was quite different to what I'd imagine the US TV biographies were like, and mentioned aspects such as Saddam's commitment to education etc..

Then, interestingly, the broadcast swapped to a CNN news feed with the CNN logos hastily blanked out. This had the advantage of an Arabic-to-English translation, something which CCTV9 did not have, but it was not acknowledged that CCTV were borrowing from CNN.

It seems that although the Western media is not encouraged in China, the state has little compunction in using its material when convenient.

At the time of writing (21.00 Beijing time) CCTV has reverted to its inane English speaking contest.

Xinhua, China's official news agency, were remarkably on the ball and posted a story minutes after the official announcement. They also post pictures lifted from CNN (read the Xinhua story here).

Their background article, which curiously does not mention Saddam's violent history or the recent Iraq war, can be found here: Backgrounder: Tikrit and Saddam Hussein.
Posted by: Sendover / 21:10

Beer Girls 

Sticking this up for no other reason than that I like the picture. But I suppose it does succintly represent ways in which China has changed in the last 20 years. I bet that even during the Deng Xiao Ping days this would have been unthinkable.

The beer companies certainly do a lot of aggressive marketing over here, notably in the shape of 'beer girls'. Every bar you go to has a beer girl in some shapely form - Tiger, Carlsberg, Steinlager, Budweiser, Corona and many others. They all wear some variation of a standard uniform - nylon or fake leather jacket, miniskirt and knee boots in the colours of the brand they are there to sell.

The tactic is to have these often forlorn little waifs float around and entice you into buying their particular brand. No doubt they work on commission of some sort or another. And I've read that some also work as after-hours hookers. No surprises there then. An interesting socio-economic phenomenon.

Note to self - perhaps I should get some pics of these in my planned exhibition of the Shanghai fashionista breed.
Posted by: Sendover / 00:01

12 December 2003

New Murality 

I'm beginning to understand women. No, rather I'm beginning to understand what it's like to be a woman.

This doesn't mean that I'm applying for a Jin Xing-style sex change or anything. It's just that I'm beginning to comprehend just how intimidating and unnerving it is to be constantly predated upon by the male of the species. Perhaps it's just my blurred and confused egotistical vision, but here the tables have been turned...

Take last night's excursion to MonkeyFunk at club Mural, and apologies to Foreign Beauty for dragging her there half an hour early due to fears of queuing in the cold. But 150 RMB (US$18) for as much as you can drink, sorry, free drinks. Can't say no to that.

Having met my first unthreatening Chinese woman in the shape of Jenny the other night at the theatre, I was hopeful of finding more. Simona and Erin's friend - the not unattractive and delightfully named Ming - seemed to be just that type, and for a while I was well able to talk nicely, before the invasion began.

Now, anybody who has visited China will know that one major tangible cultural difference is that the Chinese lack the concept of personal space. In crowded situations, such as train stations, you will constantly be bumped and pushed and shoved by people ignorant of the Westerner's fear of being touched. Fortunately, being 50% bigger than the average Chinese person confers an advantage. I once attempted to walk in a straight line from one side of the campus to the other; my prop-charge shoulder-down technique took out a cascade of students psychologically unable to think of walking around me. Eventually I gave up because it was starting to hurt. Me, not them.

But in a nightclub situation it becomes a different story. After a few drinks, I became aware that Ming was not just inside my personal space but had virtually planted a flag and declared it a self administrative region. OK, so the music was loud, making it difficult to talk at a distance, but after a few minutes of this I started to feel that I was being absorbed like an insect caught in a venus fly trap. By the time the conversation had finished, she was more or less sitting on top of me.

I'm still unsure why I'm so scared of Chinese women, but this is one reason. I couldn't tell if she was flirting with me or was merely involved in the conversation. For your information, at least Ming didn't.... well, ming.

Even more disturbing were the revelations about my Internet stalker. I am not alone. I discovered that Simona actually knew her; I was warned that Carol/Yan also has something of a reputation. I spent the rest of the night warily watching out for her in case she suddenly attacked from the darkness.

Chinese women. I just can't tell what they're thinking. Are they always after my perceived wealth, or are they actually interested in me as a person? Whatever the story, I'm just not used to being handled this way. So, Western women, my apologies. I'm starting to see how it feels to be thought of as an object.

It is flattering though.
Posted by: Sendover / 23:26

10 December 2003

Rise of the Machines 

One of those days when nothing electronic seemed to work, especially when I most needed them to. Laptop passed out. Printer jammed. Photocopier jammed. Security door wouldn't open, though admittedly this was due to me leaving the electronic key at home so cannot entirely blame the Chinese technology industry for this one.

And, perhaps this is premature, but as of tonight it appears that the Great Firewall of China is beginning to brick up this site. Unbelievable. I think the CCP is trying to block me. Just because I occasionally mention... China. Well done.

Yet, amidst this, a ray of light. The black plastic horse with realistic scamper action worked. And within the hastily torn open package of copier paper, I found this exquisite free gift. No less than a 'Slumber Fun' Barbie-branded notepad. Just what I needed. Eerily reminded me of a former girlfriend nicknamed in similar vein.

God bless China, apart from students who talk on their mobile phones during my lessons. Incensed and insulted almost to the point of tears by this one. May her face hereby live on in eternal superhighway shame.

(Update: actually this isn't her, just realised. Never mind, looks quite similar).
Posted by: Sendover / 23:17

09 December 2003

Jin Xing Praises 

It's not every night you see a transsexual pirouetting to the theme from 'Jaws' played on an accordion.

I don't pretend to be cultured. I don't pretend to be an art lover. So it was with trepidation that I set out for the Grand Theatre on Tuesday for the Jing Xing dance company's performance of 'Shanghai Tango'.

Contemporary dance, I should say. Until arriving in Shanghai, I had never even seen a ballet. After all, to me the thought of shelling out top dollar to watch the esoteric enactments of prancing poseurs has always been anathema. But, since a few weeks ago, the Shanghai ballet performed on our campus for free, I went along and must say that it wasn't bad.

An ulterior motive did lie beneath my excursion to the Jin Xing performance; it was a barely disguised attempt to ingratiate myself to two fit young Australian dancers whom I had met some weeks ago. There. I've said it. I attended an artistic event in the hope I'd meet girls.

Yet the first surprise for me was not within the theatre. I had not, of course, bought a ticket, expecting attendence to be sparse. Wrong. There were hundreds outside. There were even touts, touts, flogging tickets to the modern dance event. Where else but China?

Having haggled down from 200 to 120 RMB, I took my seat. The theatre, another example of Shanghai's unusually tasteful modern architecture with its vernacular pagoda-style inverted roof, was packed - maybe 80% full. Not bad for modern dance.

Having expected to be bored I was disappointed. I was not bored. Yes, it was avant garde, no, I did not understand it, and yes, I did have to stifle the odd snigger of cynicism. Yet on the whole, I was entertained, not because of some deeply-guarded nugget of artistic appreciation in my soul but by the sheer athleticism and skill of the performers.

It was incredible. These people have muscles like Schwarzenegger and could take on the SAS in a fitness test. That's just the women. I'm descending into purple prose here, so pause for a gag, but there was a real blend of power and grace that I haven't witnessed before.

OK, the weirdness. That's what you want to read about. Men in flouncy red skirts. Women running around in plastic macintoshes. People standing on each others' knees. Some rather silly head shaking. And lots and lots of rolling about on the floor. Not to mention Jin Xing herself, the mistress of the company and a former People's Liberation Army Colonel of the male variety.

But I left with what my students might call 'a deep impression'. Call me a pseud, but I enjoyed it. I even met a non-threatening young Chinese woman who, instead of making a metaphorical grab for my wallet and passport, talked me through the programme and walked me back to the station.

Perhaps I'm changing.
Posted by: Sendover / 21:54

It's Alive! 

Yep, after aeons of hard work by Michael and Edward and some inane drivel by myself, it's finally up. Let's see how far this baby can crawl before it starts to walk on its own two feet.

When things kick off, we'll be covering a third of the world's population. Next stop, global domination. Same as we do every night, Pinky...
Posted by: Sendover / 13:12

07 December 2003

Oh yeah 

No trip would have been complete without a group photo. So here it is.
Posted by: Sendover / 15:32

Gulang 

Tourism in China is a very controlled business. Even on an anachronistic resort like Gulangyu, you are herded into the 'tourism zone'. It was all I could do to stay on my feet amid the gangs of loudspeaker-shouting flag-toting guides.

Yet for a 60 RMB fee, a climb around the upper reaches of the island is still worthwhile. Firstly, you are surprised by a Commun-art frieze depicting the 'liberators' of the island from the Kuomintang; next door is a tiny museum. A few minutes more and you encounter a dove-cote beside a larger netted aviary. Here there are cranes, storks and peacocks, not to mention bicycle-pedalling Macaws for the crowds of cawing tourists.

Past the aviary, either on foot or via the token cable car, there is sunlight rock, the highest point of the island. Ascend this for a view of the Euro-retro architecture below. I'm not sure what it was but it seemed that there was some kind of monastry, with spires and courtyards in Teutonic style.

Another selling point: the seafood. I disdained the rest of the group heading for MacDonalds and joined our Chinese hosts. They were gobbling prawns, crab and various other sea creatures at the restaurant where earlier in the day I had seen two horseshoe crabs feebly flailing their spiked tails in an effort to upturn themselves for escape. It's still hard to get used to seeing a pretty girl like Chenya spitting chewed-up bones directly onto the table but it's par for the course, and, dare I say it, practical.

Back to Shanghai and the grey and the damp and the cold and the traffic and the expense. I have, however, finally been admitted to the 'beauty' gang, an initiation confirmed with the presentation of a cheap and nasty black plastic horse with 'realistic scampering action'. Gorged on meat at the Brazilian (out done by Havlin Joe, who utterly disdained the side salad) and return to my usual alternate reality.
Posted by: Sendover / 13:46

06 December 2003

Shalom Xiamen 

If you start out with low expectations, then when things turn out well it's all the better.

Erstwhile Waiban, Jeff Wang (Wang Yifeng, the Wangster) is not noted either for his industriousness or his communicativeness, so the huddle of expats shivering in the stupid o'clock damp on Saturday were not hopeful. Yet the bus arrived on time and swept us to the airport without hassle. Good start.

A few hundred miles daan saath from Shanghai, Xiamen has one notable advantage. It's warm and sunny. There's also things to see, and the SHUFE foreign teachers were whisked efficiently from site-to-site.

Commencing at the Turtle Gardens, with its communist friezes and elaborate pagoda-style constructions colouring the shore-side setting, after recovering Joe and Libby and taking lunch we moved on to the Nanputuo Si temple. Here, incense wafted in the calm afternoon air as hundreds of uncertain tourists paid their respects to the Buddha. Businessmen in suits stood erect and reverent before the burner stands before slinking away to rejoin the tour groups; descending the stairs I encountered a pair of over-made-up Chinese goths.

The temple is constructed on several levels, and a climb to the top awards you views of Xiamen itself, replete with the mirrored skyscrapers that are as representative of China now as chopsticks and dragons. Yet, among this there is still a diorama of the ancient rooftops of the temple itself. On the way up, you pass a tiny cave filled with perhaps a thousand miniature Bhuddas, from the elaboratly carved to the tackily plastic.

Xiamen University is also worth a stroll. Unlike SHUFE it is composed of wide boulevards, tasteful vernacular '20s architecture and even a lake. It's not unlike Lincoln College, just a tad more modern and with more Chinese students inexplicably all kitted out with identical headphone sets.

From here, after a brief glance at Taiwan-occupied territory amid some aggressive begging, Jeff flung us aboard a ferry to Gulangyu island. After three months in Shanghai, the contrast was palpable. No buses. No cars. No bicycles. Just a few golf buggies for the terminally lazy and the sound of the waves lapping the deserted beaches.

I wandered during the evening in search of the perfect sunset shot. There's still enough pollution around Xiamen to render the sunset a watery melting into haze but no matter. It's also true that there's not an awful lot of nightlife there. In fact there's none whatsoever. Yet, if it's peace and quiet you're in search of, this is part of the charm.

There is, of course, a MacDonalds. Sometimes it seems that Red China is now the land of the Golden Arches. Same colours as the flag.
Posted by: Sendover / 22:33

04 December 2003

General Kookiness 

It's just not going to stop. In a way I'm bringing it on myself.

Just came out of a prolonged conversation with some random girl on MSN. She got my address after I put my name up on an expat site hoping for freelance commissions. No such luck. Just rather squeamish chit chat. Feeling a bit stalked now. Like Jodie Foster.

Furthermore, additional inexplicable lunacy from my students too. Take a look at this picture. This is the result of my helpful nature, having said that I'll try to suggest some English novels for her to read. For some reason the lass just sent me three pictures of herself.

NB she is not in the SAS, just though it best to conceal her identity. Why send me these pictures? Why, why, why?
Posted by: Sendover / 21:52

Reporting Under the Surface 

An illuminating article lifted from the Shanghai Star.

Currently the subject of a Sino-US trade war, apparently Chinese women have been wearing underwear for 2,200 years. Fascinating. The earliest recorded shifts date back to the Han Dynasty (206 BC-AD 220). I assume that the garments themselves do not actually last for 2,200 years.

The Shanghai Star refers to the antique brassieres as 'xieyi' , meaning undignified and slutty. Wonder if Mu Zi Mei wears one.

Quotable as always, the paper goes into detail on the 'dudou', a garment popular during the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911) period.

Dudou have appeared in many movies and plays, to such an extent that they now dominate the image of ancient bras in people's minds. These type of items have even come back into vogue recently and become vanguard garments. Women today wear the thin silk dudou exposed, whereas in the old days they were worn under layers of clothes and only seen by the most intimate companions.


Ancient bras - we're not talking about the overwashed grey things you might have seen around from time to time - were mainly made of red silk. Crikey.

Most interestingly, some images have assumed special significance.

The word for a bat has the same pronunciation in Chinese as the word for happiness, fu, while a peach represented long life. These two objects were regularly embroidered on bras, indicating that the owner would lead a long and happy life.


Bats and peaches. Excellent. Not to mention the guava, another common ancient Chinese lingerie decoration.

Good to see that the Chinese media can fluff it up on an equal par with the rest of the so-called journalists and Polly Fillas that dominate the Western press.

Click on the image to read more...
Posted by: Sendover / 12:20

03 December 2003

Let It Be 

The kid may be a little oddball, but he's one of the few that actually has imagination and flair. Found him leaning out of the second floor window before his turn to speak to the class - no, he wasn't going to jump, he was just "indulging the feeling inside" and thinking about Coldplay's 'Yellow'.

Went on to talk about a new version of the Beatles' final album 'Let it Be - Naked'. Winner of a speech, though half the class giggled through it, concluding immortally with these words:

"When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be...

Thankyou. Good night"

Earlier in the day finally met up with the other teacher taking journalism classes, Fangli Dang. Good lass, even if it was a bit difficult to get her out of my office when finished.

She too was incredulous at the lack of communication and the effective confinement and segregation of the gweilos here. So it's not just me, and it's certainly not a Chinese culture thing. It's just that my department is useless.
Posted by: Sendover / 23:18

02 December 2003

More Adulation 

Dinky Shelley's interview. Took the trouble to put on a tie only to find that half the audience had deserted in favour of a song competition. Shelley (who later disclosed that today was her 20th birthday) was apoplectic, if you can imagine a five-foot girl in such a state.

Nevertheless, felt things went well. The interviewing girl herself was reasonably well-prepared and I had the pleasure of guffing at length about three important subjects: me; me; and me.

Expounded my grand unifying theory of architecture and photography as the only disciplines that blend art and science (suppose one could count economics, but I don't understand it). Showed off my pics and rabbited on and on about Vietnam, as I may have done before. Also tried to make some comparisons between Chinese and British education systems: you work hard and learn lots of theory; we do bugger all but learn how to think creatively.

During the interview, pretentious as this sounds (because it is), I came to a new comprehension of why I'm doing all this. A mini-epiphany of sorts.

Visiting other countries and gaining an understanding of other cultures and civilisation has two key benefits. It gives texture to international trade relations - you know your market, you make more money, your economy grows. And it prevents conflict. If the West had understood the East in the 1960s it may have attenuated the carnage in Indochina. If it understood Islam now - and vice versa - the new world disorder could be grimacing with a different face.

But I'm a jammy bloke. I've had the time, money and freedom to do what I have done. Most of these kids simply won't have that chance. It was a real toughie trying to encourage their wanderlust but cloak it in a veil of pragmatism.

Stalker was there of course, and before shaking her off found out just a little more. But here is not the place for that.
Posted by: Sendover / 21:54

01 December 2003

I Seek Your Counsel 

Disturbing events today. Despite having the gall to have compared me to a pig (albeit a very sweet little pig) during class, one student approached me later for a talk. At first I thought I thought she was going to ask me some innocuous question about the forthcoming exam. But no. She had a problem. A real problem.

I escorted the girl to a quiet room and sat her down. The upshot was this: she fancied a boy who fancied her best mate. What should she do? The kid was close to tears. She couldn't talk to her friend. She couldn't talk to her father. There's no such thing as student counsellors here. It was down to me.

I gave my opinion but dismissed her with a feeling of guilty inadequacy. Who the hell am I to give this sort of advice? Let's face it, my life is hardly the world's greatest success story. This is the second time this has happened this term. Though I'm flattered in a way, this is not a situation I expected to deal with. Perhaps this the penalty of being approachable. I only hope that the situation resolves itself.

I don't feel up to this job. I'll do it but it's not what I'm paid for. And others will pay the price if I don't do it well.
Posted by: Sendover / 22:45

The Closest I'll Get 

Yep, former flatmate Jane Barron with the Rugby World Cup. This is one of the many advantages of being marketing manager for the RFU. Bet she gets to go to the dinner aswell. Grrr.

Jane's been useful in the past getting hold of the odd international ticket, several knock-down England Shirts and various other knick-knacks. Call this a public request for an early Christmas present.
Posted by: Sendover / 09:52

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