by Steve Howrie
* * *
December
Wednesday 1
I don’t get it – marriage that is. I love Julie, and she loves me. Isn’t that enough? We’re already living together – why do we need a piece of paper? So many marriages today end in divorce – just look at mum and dad. Give me a break. And I’m sorry, but I’m not ready for children. Julie says I’m just like a little boy at times – she even calls me baby. So she can dress me, take me for walks and even breast feed me, if that makes her happy (I draw the line at nappies though).
Met Sheila in the coffee bar today after lunch. She told me it was her birthday soon and was planning on doing something different. I was going to suggest ‘staying sober’, but thought she might hit me (she’s bigger than I am). Then she told me a bit about her background – interesting. Four husbands and three divorces (the other one died in mysterious circumstances). “So, any children?” I asked.
“Eighty–five,” she said.
I was going to reply, “No, I didn’t ask your age,” but restrained myself.
“Students,” she clarified. “But kids of my own? Forget it.”
“I know where you’re coming from,” I said.
“Brisbane,” she replied.
“No, I mean… I’m not into having my own kids either,” I explained.
“I know that ninety–nine percent of women want children… and I suppose that’s expected if the human race is going to survive. But somehow, I’ve never wanted my own – it’s enough to have them at work. I don’t want to take them home with me as well.”
Thursday 2
Weird, worrying dream last night. Julie suddenly appeared holding a pregnancy test, shouting, ‘I’m pregnant!’ She showed me the result. ‘How can that be?’ I said. ‘I always wear a condom.’ Which is true, except for the time Julie told me she’d just had her period and it was safe. (Did seem odd that it was only one week since her last one though.) ‘I lied,’ she said. ‘Oh my god!’ I screamed, ‘I thought you liked children,’ she said. ‘Yes, other people’s,’ I said backing towards the door. ‘Do you want me to get rid of the baby, Simon?’ she said walking towards me with crazy, wild eyes. ‘Do you want me to murder your child? Do you want blood on your hands?’
I woke up sweating, my heart pounding. That’s the last time I’m drinking Red Bull.
Friday 3
End of another week. Today was a blur in many ways – partly because we all went out for a drink to celebrate Sheila’s fifty–second year on the planet after school last night. As it was her birthday, she didn’t have a single gin (they were all doubles). Had a good laugh, I seem to remember. Even Dr Wang came along for a bit, though we were all relieved when she left so we could let our hair down – all except Big Ron (bald as a billiard ball). Klaussie told us some German jokes, which were either lost in translation or deeply worrying. Having second thoughts about him joining the Writers’ group now. Graham showed us all some magic tricks with 100 yuan notes. He said he could make them disappear – a trick that Julie’s very good at too (usually with my cash). We were all impressed, until he started to walk away with our money. It took three people to get the notes out of his nose.
Anyway, we all went home happy (as far as I can recall).
Saturday 4
Woke up this morning with two things: a hangover, and Julie. Relieved about one, and not so happy about the other. Over breakfast, she told me that I had to change.
“What’s wrong with these clothes?” I asked.
“Not your clothes – you.”
“My clothes would be easier,” I admitted.
“Yes, that’s the problem. You’re such a coward, Simon, you never confront anything. You want this cosy little world where life is nice to you all the time, and you hide as soon as anything becomes difficult.”
I thought about this for a minute, and then said, “Well yeah…, you’re probably right. Anyway, I’ve got to walk the dog now…”
“There you see – running away again! You’re even uncomfortable talking about it. And you know we don’t have a dog.”
“Yeah, I know that,” I admitted. “But if we did…”
“Then you’d still be a coward.”
Julie was right – that was me down to a tee, and I had to grow up. It’s true that I don’t like facing things and always take the easy option. But not anymore.
Decided to get tough with myself: no shirking responsibility, no hiding away in dark corners. I’m going to confront life, confront people, and I don’t care if they like me for it or not: no more Mr Nice Guy. Just then Julie interrupted my thoughts.
“Got to go out, Simon. Sorry about the BIG mess in the lounge – could you tidy it up for me please?”
“Okay Jules,” I said.
Sunday 5
I started to read a self help book I picked up a while back from an airport somewhere. It was called, ‘You can do it! Develop your mental strengths in ten easy lessons.’ I flicked through the book first, and one part caught my interest. ‘When a man defends himself, he becomes an idiot.’ Thought about that for a moment, but couldn’t see how it would apply to me. Still, the book looks like it’s just what I need.
Monday 6
I discovered a startling fact whilst talking to Big Ron and Klaus after work today: they give out homework to their students without asking if they want it!
“Well, of course,” said Ron. “D’you mean you actually ask your students if they’d like to have homework?” Ron said to me in utter disbelief. “You actually ask?”
“What me?” I said, back–pedalling fast, “Oh no, no way! I just heard that some people do that…”
“What type of people would that be?” Klaus asked. “Give me some names.” I was really on the spot now.
“Oh, an old mate from teacher training college, for one... you wouldn’t know him. He does it all the time.”
“How do you know?” asked Ron.
“He told me.”
“How did he tell you?” asked Klaus.
Christ, I was getting the third degree from both of them – what was going on?
“Look, what does it matter who he is, or how he told me. The fact is that it happened…”
“And you’ve never asked your students if they want homework?” Klaus asked.
“NO! What’s the matter with you guys – why don’t you believe me?”
Ron put down his drink. “Because, Simon mate, Klaus’s students told him that you ask them if they want homework.”
I’d better read that book.
Tuesday 7
It was the Writers’ group meeting again last night. Klaus came along as promised, and even brought some stuff he’d been working on. He’s a bit of a dark horse, is old Klaussie. He’s a physics and maths teacher, and he can write as well. (Hopefully, not as well as me.) His piece was a short Sci–Fi story, entitled ‘The Planet That Time Forgot’. Melissa, Maddy and Julie thought this was a great title. Klaus, who was obviously enjoying the female attention, gave us all copies – so I can tell you verbatim how it went (that’s a new word I learned from Anton). To summarize, it was about an alien called Klontech who arrives on Earth via a black hole. Crashing into the Amazon Basin, he falls in love with a young Brazilian woman called Julita. I thought that with Klaus’s physics background, there would be lots of references to science and technology. But no, it was all about their love affair. More physical than physics. Melissa particularly like it.
“What’s his thingy like?” she asked.
“Thingy?” asked Klaus.
“Yeah, for having sex. He’s an alien, so I thought you might describe that. Your readers would be interested… particularly if it’s ‘unusual’.” The other women nodded eagerly.
“Oh, I see… yah, that’s a good idea… thanks,” said Klaus.
“What do you think babe?” Julie asked me. I wish she wouldn’t call me that in public.
“Well, I liked the first couple of lines... and the last s
entence was really, really good.”
“You mean, ‘…and with a single whisper, they disappeared beyond the event horizon and were gone?’”
“Yeah, that bit.”
“That was so sad,” said Maddy.
“How about the other two thousand words?” Anton asked me.
“Well, the thing is… the title is ‘The Planet that Time Forgot’, but ninety–five percent of the story takes place on Earth.” There was silence. Then Anton said,
“Good point Simon… Klaus?”
“Yah, I see – you’re right! Thanks Simon.”
Apparently, Julita was originally going to be an astronaut who got pulled into a Black Hole, and landed in Klontech’s World. Time had no meaning there, so hence the title. I told Klaus I thought he had a good story, and should keep writing.
“Thank you Simon – I appreciate that. You really are a good friend.”
Wednesday 8
It’s my birthday! Told my class that seeing as it’s my birthday today, I’m not going to give them the usual homework. They seemed very pleased, until I said, “I’m giving you extra homework. And from now on, anyone not doing the homework will have double homework next time, and if they don’t do that, double what they didn’t do before, and then double–double–double… in fact, a rapidly increasing infinite series of homework.”
I think they’ve gone off me.
Because it’s a week day, Julie suggested celebrating my birthday on Friday. Good idea. Wonder what she’s bought me?
Thursday 9
Aren’t my kids great! They gave me a card and a little present today. The card said ‘Happy Birthday Teacher Simon’, and was signed by them all. The present was a book, “Mathematics for Dummies”.
After school, Julie asked me what it felt like being twenty–eight. I told her I didn’t know. This seemed to annoy her somewhat.
“But you must know! Don’t you have any feelings Simon? You should be embracing life, living and feeling every moment. I want to know – I’ve never been twenty–eight. But you’re telling me that you have no feelings whatsoever about being that age? Why Simon, why?”
“I’m only twenty–seven. I’ll be twenty–eight next year.”
She didn’t take that very well.
Friday 10
Apart from forgetting my age, Julie seems to have forgotten that we were going out tonight to celebrate my birthday. And she said she hasn’t had time to buy me a present yet. Anyway, the guys at school have invited me out to the pub for a few drinks, and Julie said she’d follow later. She doesn’t seem very happy with me at the moment for some reason.
Taught a bit of Trigonometry today. I told the students that it’s easy to forget the sine, cosine and tangent formulae, and gave them a demonstration on how to get them wrong. Then we learned all about cosecant, secant and cotangent, and I really mixed those up. Glad they have a sense of humour.
Out on the town tonight!
Saturday 11
Never, never, never, never, never, ever again...
Sunday 12
After spending yesterday in bed with a BIG hangover, I remembered two things: (1) Julie did come to the pub, but spent the whole night talking to Graham and Klaus – and she didn’t give me a present; (2) Graham told me he plays golf, and would love to have a game on Sunday – hurrah! I told him I’d brought my Mizuno clubs to China with me.
“Why?” he asked.
“So I can play golf,” I said.
“But clubs are so cheap here,” he said, “I picked up a full set of great Callaway’s and a bag for under a hundred and fifty dollars.”
“Wow!” I gasped.
“Of course, they’re not originals,” he went on, “but you’ll never know the difference.”
So we arranged to play at a course not far from the school in the afternoon. When I told Julie I was going to play golf, she said “What with?”
“You mean, ‘Who with’,” I said (she often makes these grammatical errors).
“No, I mean what with? How are you going to hit the ball?”
She’s just like my mum at times…
“With those, of course!” I said, pointing at my golf bag in the corridor.
“With my underwear you mean?” she said.
Oops! Totally forgot we filled the bag with Julie’s smalls.
“Mei wenti… Graham said I can pick up a set of clubs for a good price in Shanghai…”
“Come with me,” she said, leading me to the bedroom by my belt.
“That’s a really nice idea – I’d love to – but I’ve got to go...”
“Okay – but open this first.”
In the corner of the room was a big box in red wrapping paper, with a black bow wrapped around it.
“For me?” I felt like a big kid.
“Open it then.” Inside was a brand new set of golf clubs – irons, woods, putter – the whole caboodle. “Happy birthday babe.”
“Xie Xie Jules – you’re wonderful!”
“I know,” she said.
Met Graham at the golf club. Never played golf in China before – and I was in for a surprise.
We were greeted by one of the club managers, a woman in her late twenties, who could speak some English. She showed us around the club house, and then pointed to some girls dressed in white and blue near the starter’s office. “The girls are very good – they carry your clubs and clean your balls.”
“Sounds good to me,” Graham said, winking. Yes, for sixty–five yuan we had our personal caddies. “Wonder what else they can do for us?” Graham said with an evil smile as we walked to the first tee.
“Line up your putts?” I ventured.
“I mean after we’ve played the course,” he said.
“Show us the driving range?”
“No, I mean, when we’re done with golf.”
“Got it,” I said.
Graham’s a bad boy – and he’s also a pretty wicked golfer. But though his drives were big, they were usually accompanied by a loud shout of ‘Fore!’ Whilst we were waiting to tee–off at the twelfth, I discovered that he knows quite a bit of Chinese too.
“Nide dianhua haoma duo shao?” he said to his caddy. The girl nodded and wrote some numbers on his scorecard.
“Just asking my score so far,” he said to me.
I thought I’d follow suit and used the same phrase. My caddy then wrote down the numbers 13501867424. I remembered getting a five, a six and seven, and a couple of fours; but the two hole–in–ones and the zero were slightly puzzling.
In the end I beat Graham by three holes – which meant he owed me thirty kwai.
“Put it on my tab would you buddy?” he said to me.
I wanted to say something appropriate, like “fuck off Graham,” but I just said “Okay, no problem.” He was preoccupied with his caddy anyway, and said he’d stay for a bit. So I left him and went home.
Monday 13
When I returned from playing golf yesterday, Julie told me that Toni had phoned to say her portrait was finished, and would we like to see it that evening? Well, of course. So he brought it round.
“Well, it’s… it’s... interesting.” That’s really all I could say when Toni unveiled his artwork in our apartment.
“A good likeness?” he asked.
I turned my head sideways and squinted. “Well... to be honest…”
“Toni!” exclaimed Julie, “You’ve got it upside down!”
Toni turned to look at the picture full on. “Ah, so I have – sorry!”
I didn’t want to hurt Toni’s feelings; but even when he turned it the right way, it still looked like a neurotic mermaid on speed. “What’s happened to her legs?” I asked.
“I see Julie gliding through life, like a beautiful fish in the sea,” he said, closing his eyes.
“Did you paint her picture that way?” I asked.
“You mean like a beautiful fish in the sea?” he replied.
“No, with your eyes closed.”
/> “The Soul needs not human eyes to see,” he said.
Personally, I see Julie like a fish out of water – but that’s just me. “How did you manage to paint her breas…?”
“Toni’s got a wonderful imagination,” Julie cut in.
“Have I got them right?” asked Toni.
I looked closely. “Well, you’ve got the right number... yes, you’ve got them to a ‘T’.” I really wanted to say, “You’ve got them to a T.I.T.,” but I restrained myself. “What will you do with the painting?” I asked, sipping my coffee.
“Well, Julie says she wants to buy it,” Toni replied.
“Great!” I said. “Let me pay.”
“Oh, thank you babe!” she said kissing me warmly on the lips.
“Duo shao qian?” (meaning ‘how much money’. I like to show off my Chinese).
“Two thousand dollars,” said Toni. My coffee went all over the floor.
“Dollars?” I exclaimed.
“Don’t you think she’s worth it Simon?” said Toni – really putting me on the spot.
Well, she is, I thought; but I wasn’t so sure about this Jack–the–rip–off standing in front of me. But what could I do? I didn’t want to pay two thousand dollars for a crappy portrait that a two–year old would have received a B–minus for. For one thing, it didn’t even look like Julie (except for the breasts). But on the other hand, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings (mistake!); and if I didn’t buy it, Julie wouldn’t talk to me for a month – and sex would definitely be out the window.
“Do you accept cheques?” I asked.
“Well, I…”
“How about rain–checks?” I added.
“Simon!” Julie exclaimed.
“Sorry, just joking. How about I give you the cash at the end of the month – after I’ve been paid?”
“No problem Simon – you’re my friend…”
Hate to think how much he would squeeze the life out of his enemies.
After Toni had left, Julie and I looked at the painting again.
“Take your bra off,” I instructed.
“I’m not wearing a bra…”
“Okay, take your top off then.”
“Why?”
“I just want to check something.”
Tuesday 14
Google came to see me today. She had some good news.
“Dr Wang would like you to help out at a recruitment fair tomorrow… are you free?” I felt honoured.
“Why me?”
“We’re looking for a new mathematics teacher for next term, and Dr Wang needs an experienced maths teacher to interview candidates. Klaus is not available, so you’re the nearest thing we’ve got.”
“Great – who else is going?”
“Just the two of us.”
How do I recognise a good maths teacher?
Wednesday 15
Google met me at home so we could go to the Recruitment Fair together. I was about to call a taxi, but she said there was no need. “I’ve got my bike,” she said. And there it was, her brand new scooter – or e–bike as they call them here – right next to my apartment. A beautiful red machine, with her name in gold letters on the side.
“Where’s your helmet?” I asked.
“What’s that?”
“I said, where’s your helmet?”
“I heard it…what’s a helmet?”
“To protect your head – if you fall off… or if I fall off.”
“Oh, no need… just don’t fall off.”
After a hair–raising ride through the streets of Shanghai, where bikes share the same lanes as buses, we arrived at the Fair. It was nice to spend some quality time with Google, and nice to meet some real teachers. Nothing against old Ron, Sheila or Klaussie… but I do wonder about the others. Anyway, got straight into the recruiting stuff as soon as I arrived at the gig, which was a nice downtown hotel. (I seem to be saying ‘nice’ rather a lot.) Decided to dress up for it (you have to impress don’t you?) and wore my best jeans and trainers instead of the old ones.
The first candidate was Paul from England. He was currently working at an expat school in some back–water town (Bangkok, I think he said) and wanted to go to a big city and teach Chinese kids.
“Hey, how yer doing? I’m Simon.”
“Very pleased to meet you Simon – I’m Paul.”
“Good to see you mate. Okay, so let’s get rocking. Tell me, why d’you want to teach in our school?”
“Well, I really want to teach top notch students, and I’ve heard that you’ve got some of the very best maths students at your school.”
“Too right, Paulie. These guys are red–hot when it comes to numbers. They’ve taught me a lot already.”
“Really? They’re that good?” Old Paul was impressed straightaway. I think I must be born for interviewing.
“Are you kidding me? These guys would give Einstein a run for his money. I have to tell you, though, culturally they’re a long way behind British kids. They know nothing about getting pissed, doing drugs, lesbian sex or S&M. Christ, they’ve never even been arrested. Talk about a sheltered life.”
“I see, I see.”
“So I spend a lot of my time filling them in on those areas… no need to teach them very much maths at all… though it is my job, of course. I find the best way is to combine culture with mathematics.”
“In what way?”
“Well, for example, finding the mean and standard deviation of drug–related crimes in the Manchester area. Or plotting cumulative frequency diagrams of the spread of prostitution in Cardiff against that in London.”
Paul looked rather pale at this stage. Perhaps a little jet–lagged after his trip from Bangkok. “Are you alright Paul?”
“Yes, yes thank you,” he said getting up from his chair and backing out quickly. “I’ve just remembered that I’ve got two other schools to talk to this morning, and I don’t want to be late…”
Seemed like a nice kid.
Google came over to see me mid–morning with a cup of coffee.
“How’s it going Simon?”
“Not bad – sorting the wheat from the chaff at the moment.”
“What’s the meaning?”
“Well, you essentially have two types of teachers: the good, strong, experienced and enthusiastic ones – they’re the wheat; and the crap, weak, pathetic, boring ones – they’re the chaff.”
“Which one are you, Simon?” she asked.
I thought about this for a moment. “Well, I have to be honest… I think I’m more chaff–like than wheat–like.”
“I think so too,” said Google.
She’s such a nice girl.
Over lunch, I asked Google if she’d found a boyfriend yet.
“No, still looking,” she said as she played with her noodles.
“I can help,” I said quietly.
“Thanks Simon, but you’re really not my type…”
“No, I mean I’ll help you find one.”
“Really?”
“Mei wenti. Just give me your specifications, and I’ll do my best.”
“Okay, well, taller than me… a few years older than me… quite beautiful.”
“You mean handsome?”
“Yes, quite handsome… but not perfect. And good conversation. He must be someone I can talk to – and good listener.”
I nodded as I made notes. “Does he have to be Chinese?”
“No… in fact, I’d prefer foreigner – better chance to travel abroad.”
“Good thinking. Anything else?”
“Well” she looked side–to–side to see if anyone was listening. “He must be good in bed.”
“Well, naturally. Okay, leave it with me Google… oh, one more thing,” I pulled out my mobile phone. “Smile!” Got a nice photo of her.
My first candidate after lunch was David from Texas, USA.
“Hi, you must be David.”
“That’s right sir.”
I studied his
CV for a moment. “Well, you’ve got the right sort of qualifications, Dave, and your age is just about right. Do you mind standing for a moment?”
He looked puzzled (as I would be). I looked him up and down, nodded, and made a couple of notes (he was very tall).
“Are we done?” he asked.
“Thanks, you can sit down now – I was just checking your height…”
“Is that important in your school?” he asked with slight disbelief.
“Oh sure – we can’t have the teachers smaller than the students.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, they’d look down on you – and that’s not good.”
“I see.”
Then I pulled out my mobile phone. “What do you think of this young woman?”
He looked closely at the screen. “She’s very pretty, sir.”
“Yes, she is isn’t she? How would you like to take her out?”
“Excuse me?”
“On a date.” He hesitated. “This is very important, David – it’s the difference between getting this job, and not getting it.”
“I see… well… when is she free?”
“Good man. Thank you so much for your time David – we’ll let you know tomorrow about the job.” I stood up to show the interview was over. “Oh, one more thing Dave – do you have a girlfriend?”
“Well, actually…”
“You may have to dump her.”
Thursday 16
Jin tian bu hao. Not a good day.
In retrospect, I thought it went pretty well at the job fair yesterday. However, Dr Wang was not at all pleased when she saw David’s CV.
“But he’s only an NQT!” she said. I thought perhaps this meant ‘not quite twenty’.
“Actually, he’s twenty–three,” I replied.
“Exactly – he’s no experience!”
“He’s got a girlfriend…” I said defensively.
“I mean teaching experience! He’s a newly–qualified teacher.” (So that’s what it means.) “Has he signed the contract?” she asked.
“Er… no.”
“Then you’ll have to get rid of him.” She said, folding her arms. She always does that when something’s very final.
“You mean kill him?” I asked.
“No! Tell him he’s not got the job.”
It would be easier to kill him.
Klaus covered my lessons for me whilst I was at the job fair, and I had a surprise reaction from my group three students.
“So, how did your lessons go with Mr Beckenbauer yesterday?” I asked. They were very quiet. “Yes, I know he’s not a real maths teacher, but it can’t have been that bad.” Then one student said,
“Actually, Simon, we really liked Mr Beckenbauer. He’s very good at maths, and he didn’t make any mistake on the board.”
“Oh, I see.” I was hurt. I hadn’t realised how important it was to have a teacher who was really good at maths. So I tried to teach them as best as I could that afternoon, and only made four mistakes (a record for me). No–one said another word the whole lesson, and the atmosphere was very sad. I think I’ll give up teaching.
Friday 17
I love teaching! I received an amazing card from my students today – a beautiful Chinese card in red and gold. Inside it said, ‘Simon, we know you are not good at maths, but you are our favourite teacher. You tell funny story and make us laugh. Please do not be sad. Love, Class G3.’
Later I phoned David, the American Maths teacher I recruited on Wednesday. Told him I was very sorry, but on reflection we could not employ him at our school. “Was it my height?” he asked. “Yes, that’s right,” I said.
Just one week to Christmas!
Saturday 18
Was hoping for a lie–in this morning, but Mum phoned at 7am (11pm in the UK). She wanted to confirm that she’d be arriving at Pudong airport with Donald on Thursday twenty–third. Later that morning, received an email from Dad to say he’d be arriving the same day with Tara! This will take careful planning.
I asked Julie what her dad would be doing for Christmas.
“Time,” she said.
I’d forgotten that her father was still in prison. “How about your mum?” I asked.
“Probably out clubbing Christmas Eve, and getting laid Christmas Day.”
I was relieved to see that Julie’s red and green hair colour had just about grown out, leaving her beautiful blond locks.
“You’re not at all like your mum,” I observed. “Well – not in looks anyway.”
I said I’ll meet Mum and Donald at the airport at 5.20pm on Thursday, as arranged, and Julie will meet and greet Dad and Tara at 7.40pm. I’ll take Mum and Don back to our place, whilst Julie takes Dad and Tara on a trip to Xi’an (historic former capital of China).
Sunday 19
This being our last weekend together before the family arrives, Julie and I decided to spend some quality time together. We bought a nice bottle of red wine, and curled up on the sofa to watch a couple of old movies (‘Meet the Parents’ and ‘The Parent Trap’). Quite worrying.
“Why can’t we choose our own parents?” I asked Julie.
“We do,” she said.
“Then why did we make such crap choices?” I exclaimed.
“Karma,” she replied.
“Sorry. Why did we make such crap choices?” I whispered.
“No, Karma – what goes around, comes around.”
“Like a virus?” I said.
“Yeah, something like that.”
I’m not sure what planet she’s from, but it’s definitely not Earth.
Monday 20
I heard a cry from the bathroom this morning. “Ow, ow, ow! Si–mon!”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’ve got toothpaste in my eye!”
“Aren’t you supposed to put it in your mouth?” I said, splashing water into her face. Apparently she was squeezing the tube, and some toothpaste spurted up into her eye. “Must be Karma,” I said with a grin. She looked at the tube quizzically.
“Is that a Chinese brand?”
“No, I mean what we were talking about last night – what goes around, comes around.”
“You mean I deserved this?” she said in her teacher voice.
“I guess so… ow!” she hit me on the head with the toothpaste. “What was that for?”
“Karma,” she said.
Our last week at school before Christmas! The students have been practising for their Christmas party, and they’ve asked us teachers to do a party piece. Can’t wait! My students also asked me if I’m going home for Christmas. I told them that I feel this is my home now. Then they asked if I’m going to become a Chinese citizen.
“Is that possible?” I asked.
“Ni neng shuo zhongwen ma?” they asked.
“Sorry, don’t understand,” I said.
“Then no, not possible.”
Tuesday 21
Interesting Writers’ meeting last night. Maddy read another chapter of her book, ‘Love at first Height’. Apparently, Maddy fell for Syd at the top of the Sydney Harbour Bridge (fortunately, he just managed to catch her). The girls thought this was very romantic – Melissa was particularly into the story. “And when did you two first do it?” she asked. Seemingly, Syd took her on a moonlight cruise a few days later, and it all happened then.
Toni and I couldn’t get our heads round this romantic stuff, so we went down to the bar for a quick pint.
“Girls, eh!” he said.
“Know what you mean,” I replied.
“Have you put Julie’s the painting up yet?” Toni asked.
“Oh right, yeah. It’s in the lounge. We did have it in the bedroom, but it started to affect our lovemaking. I couldn’t help thinking I was having sex with a big fish.”
“You’re a lucky guy, y’know, Simon.”
“What, for having sex with a big fish?”
“No, for being with Julie… she’s such
a beautiful girl. You’re so lucky to be married to her.”
“Thanks.”
Course, I’d forgotten about all this marriage stuff. Maybe Julie will forget too – hopefully. Anyway, everyone thinks we’re married – so what’s the difference? Dunno what I’m going to say to Mum and Dad though.
Back upstairs, Anton had just begun reading an article about the collapse of the Ottoman Empire. It was a bit of a blur after the drink (we had two pints each in the end). But y’know, despite not always understanding all this writing stuff, I feel a kindred spirit with writers. I feel at home. Maths is maybe food for the mind, but writing is food for the Soul. I’m a deeper person that I think (when I’m drunk).
That was our last Writers group meeting until January 10th.
Wednesday 22
Made a big decision today: decided to sign up for Chinese lessons in Shanghai. Told Julie when I got home, and asked if she’d like to join too. “Nah, I’m no good at Chinese,” she said.
“I know – that’s the idea of lessons,” I replied. She shook her head.
“I can’t even say ‘Knee how’ properly.”
“My knees are fine thanks,” I joked (Julie really likes my sense of humour).
“Oh fuck off Simon.” I knew what that meant.
What’s up with Julie? I’ll have to talk to Mum again.
Thursday 23
The kids have been practising for the Christmas Show, and no–one was really interested in maths today. “What are you going to sing Simon?” they asked.
“Oh, something I’ve made up,” I said.
“You written a song?” They couldn’t believe I had a creative streak – they were dead impressed.
Actually, I was going to sing, ‘Sex and Drugs and Rock N’ Roll’. Clive, who was organising the Christmas Show, asked me for the words – so I wrote them down for him. He said I might consider changing them – for the students’ and parents’ benefit. I thought for a moment, and then said, “Okay, thanks for the suggestion Clivey, but actually I really like the original lyric – and I think the students will too. It’s all part of their education.” He went away with a copy of the words, and a deep frown.
Clive later told me he’d shown the lyric to Dr Wang, and she said it was either a case of changing the words or changing my job. Which one did I choose? I never did like the original words.
Rice and fish and hot–dog roll
Is all my brain and body needs.
Rice and fish and hot–dog roll
Is very nice indeed.
The show went well. The kids were great – and everyone had a really nice time. Some people said my song made them feel hungry. Julie said she liked the rice and fish part, but not the hot–dog. Google said she didn’t know I could sing – and she still wasn’t sure.
All us overseas teachers are on holiday now – hurrah! Got to go and meet Mum and Donald from the airport this evening. Julie’s meeting Dad and Tara
Friday 24
Touch and go at the airport last night. Mum’s flight came in two hours late, which meant they landed just ten minutes before Dad’s! Fortunately, managed to keep them from seeing each other. Julie took Dad and Tara to a hotel, and I took Mum and Donald home in a taxi. Don’s a funny old bloke. Travelled everywhere, it seems, and nothing’s new to him. “Ah, this reminds me of the time I was in Gyeonggi–do province, South Korea, a few years ago,” he would say. Or, “Did I tell you about the time I wrestled a python with my bare hands in Cambodia?” Don’t know how mum puts up with him – must be love or something.
Got a phone call from Julie to say she was on the plane to Xi’an with Dad and Tara, and they’d be taking off soon. Said she really likes my dad – he’s very much like me – only funnier, better looking, and more intelligent. Mmm…
Took Don and Mum downtown and looked around Yuyuan Garden. Apparently, the gardens are four hundred and fifty years old. “Oh Simon – this is beautiful! This is the real China, not that conglomeration of skyscrapers we saw yesterday. Why did they ever want to build such monstrosities?”
“It’s competition, Lillian,” replied Don. “Man’s eternal quest to be bigger, better, richer, newer… did I ever tell you of the time I visited the Petronas twin towers in Kuala Lumpur?”
“Oh, there’s a tea house!” Mum exclaimed, changing the subject. So we all had Chinese tea, with little snacks – including Robin’s eggs! Urghhh! Don’t know what Julie would have said.
Saturday 25 – Christmas Day!
Day off from blogging.
Sunday 26
Oh my head! Donald may be a bit of a pain, but he knows how to drink whisky (he bought a bottle at the duty free on his way here). Wake me up when it’s Monday.
Monday 27
Got over my hangover and took Mum and Don on a boat trip along the Huangpu River in Shanghai today. So cold! Anyway, nice views of the buildings of old colonial Shanghai. Mum said it reminded her of the North of England; but I didn’t see anyone drugged up to their eyeballs, mugged, raped or run–over – so I’d have to disagree.
Phoned Julie, and heard that they’d enjoyed seeing the Terracotta Warriors in Xi’an yesterday. Well, Dad and Julie did – Tara was more interested in the young Chinese security guards. “Your sister’s fatter than I remember,” said Julie.
“Where is she fatter?” I asked.
“In Xi’an,” Julie replied.
“No, I mean – what part of her body?”
“Her belly.”
Uh–oh… I think I know what that means.
Dad and Tara are due back in Shanghai tomorrow.
Once we were home, I managed to convince Mum and Don to go on a trip away from Shanghai tomorrow. “I’ve always wanted to go to Qingdao,” Donald said. “Any chance of that Simon?”
“You mean you’ve never been there Don?” Mum said with feigned surprise. Seemingly not.
“What do you know about Qingdao?” I asked Ron. This was a BIG mistake.
“Oh, not much really. All I know is that it’s a major city in eastern Shandong Province, lying across the Shandong Peninsula. It borders Yantai to the northeast, Weifang to the west and Rizhao to the southeast. Qingdao is a major seaport, naval base and industrial centre. It’s also the site of the famous Tsingtao Brewery. The word ‘qīng’ in Chinese means ‘green’ or ‘lush’, whilst ‘dǎo’ means ‘island’. In 2009, Qingdao was named China’s most livable city...”
“Right – thanks Don,” I said; but he was now in full–flow.
“In 1891 the Qing government decided to make the area a defense base against naval attack, and began to improve Qingdao's existing fortifications. German naval officials observed this activity during a survey of Jaiozhou Bay in May 1897. Subsequently, German troops seized and occupied the fortification. China conceded the area to Germany the following year, and the Kiautschou Bay Concession, as it became known, existed from 1898 to 1914.”
“Don, you’re a mine of info…” I started, but I couldn’t stop him now.
“Commercial interests established the Germania Brewery in 1903, which later became the world–famous Tsingtao Brewery. German influence extended to other areas of Shandong Province, including the establishment of diverse commercial enterprises. The city reverted to Chinese rule in December, 1922, under control of the Republic of China. However, Japan re–occupied Qingdao in 1938, with its plans of territorial expansion onto China's coast. In June 1949 the Red Army entered Qingdao, and the city and province have been under China’s control ever since.”
What can you say?
Tuesday 28
I don’t think I can stand much more of Donald – he’s like a walking Encyclopedia. I don’t know how Mum can prefer him over Dad. It’s also no fun having Mum here either – I feel like a little kid again. However, it was good to be able to talk to her about Julie today.
“So, when are you two getting married?” she asked.
“I… I dunno… there’s no rush. Why do we have to get married?”
&
nbsp; “Well, you don’t of course. In this modern age, it’s not fashionable anymore. And it always seems to end in divorce when people do tie the knot, so I’m not going to push you in that direction. Anyway, I’m not the blueprint for a happy marriage – far from it. Don’t get me wrong, I do still love your father – but people grow apart. You change as a person, and different things become important. I woke up one day, and realised that I couldn’t stay married to your Dad. The things that drew us together had evaporated, and we’d nothing in common any more. The fun and life had gone out of our marriage – and I needed them back. Despite what you think of Donald, he’s a very different person when we’re on our own. He desperately wants you to accept him, and he’s only trying to impress – too hard perhaps.”
“The thing is,” I said, “Julie does want to get married.”
“Does she? Or does she just want children, and thinks you need to be married to have them?”
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t think you do need to marry – but you’ll have to talk to her about that. But I have to say, I’d like some grandchildren.”
“Just place your order,” I joked.
“Two boys and a girl,” she said.
Wednesday 29
Spent the morning looking around the old Qingdao Brewery, and then walked along the beach for a while. Couldn’t help noticing the couples having their wedding photographs taken near the water. All the girls wore beautiful white dresses, and I wondered what Julie would think.
Had a nice meal in a Seafood Restaurant near the Olympic Aquatic Centre in the evening. You choose your food (some of it still living) and they cook it for you. Nice – but I couldn’t look the crabs in the eye. Donald told us some jokes, which seemed very funny over a couple of glasses of wine.
Whilst I was a little drunk, I phoned Julie to see how she was getting on with Dad and Tara.
“Hi Baby, how’s things in the big city?” I said.
“I miss you,” she replied. “When are you coming home?”
“Back in Shanghai tomorrow. Is Dad okay?”
“Yeah, he’s sweet. I think he fancies me…”
“What!
“See you.”
I knew there was something else to say to Julie, but just couldn’t put my finger on it. It’ll come back to me tomorrow – hopefully.
Thursday 30
On the flight home, I was relieved that Donald told me nothing about our airplane: when it was built, who built it, seating and engine capacity, how many flights it’d done. Mum must have talked to him. He’s not so bad after all. He did offer to look at my teeth free of charge, and asked how my work was going. Yes, I could get to like him – but he’ll never replace Dad.
Speaking of which, I couldn’t get the thought of Dad fancying Julie out of my mind all day.
Friday 31 New Year’s Eve!
In the taxi from the airport, I asked Mum what she’d say to Dad if she met him now. “Oh, I’d probably say ‘sorry’. I shouldn’t have just walked out like that, it wasn’t right. And I’d tell him that I do still love him, despite everything. You can love two people at the same time, can’t you Simon?”
“Yes, of course you can Mum. I love you, and Dad, and Julie… Mei Wenti.”
“Who’s May Wenty?”
We arrived home at our apartment, and I went in first.
“Got a little surprise for you Julie,” I said. I let Mum and Donald in.
“Simon! What?” Julie exclaimed.
“Julie! How nice – Simon told me you were away,” Mum said.
“Yeah I was – but…”
Suddenly, Dad appeared in the lounge. “Lillian?”
“Frank?”
Julie and I escaped to our bedroom. “Will that be like us when we’re their age?” I asked.
“Shit, I hope not,” she said.
