Foolish day!

As it's known by many here, and it's known by many. The Chinese love this day and all manner of mischief follows. Luckily i escaped relatively unscathed, as most of my students are basically scared of me, some border on terrified. I make a point of dressing and acting like a grumpy old professor because it generally inspires awe in most of the little brats. Though there are the few exceptions, like the little bastard who told me to "Fuck off!" in class. He has spent the last 6 weeks of my classes posted in the hall outside wearing a red sash that says "I am worth less than the shit on my teachers shoes". I paraphrased this from the words of the late Chairman Mao, so the Chinese teachers can't really complain about the tone. Indeed, i have been told, in secret, that many of then wish they could be so "bold" in their approach to the rude students. As "the foreigner" in the States most prestigious high school, they give me a lot of leeway for a) educational/cultural experience, and b) for fear of me leaving. They can't keep foreign teachers at the school because the classes are so large and unwieldy.

One of the aspects i do love about my new job is having a seemingly endless sea of students bowing to me whenever i pass by, or they enter a room i am in. However it does have its drawbacks; it's very hard to conduct a conversation when some snivelling black haired mass has their eyes firmly fixed on my shoes, and their voice directed into their shirt collar.

You may, like myself, be surprised to learn the students have to spend an hour every Friday cleaning their classrooms, and i mean CLEAN. A squad of about 30 (half the class) descend upon the classroom and sandpaper the whitewashed walls, scrub the blackboard and floor, and polish the windows inside and out. The cleaning staff are under strict instruction to only clean outside the classrooms. Each floor has 3 classrooms, 2 toilet blocks, and a "Dringking Water Room" (sic) which are endlessly mopped from 08:00 until 17:35, five days a week.

Because you can't "dringk" the water here in China, every institution, large and small, has some system for the boiling of water. Everybody (including myself) carries a thermos of some description to maintain a personal supply of tea at all working times. Though it's too bad if you want cool water as according to traditional Chinese medicine cold water is bad for the stomach and you will be chastised by old mothers and aunts if found consuming cool refreshments in the summer months. I can't buy a cold coke in my area without getting the same lecture from every 'auntie' at all my local 'little buy counters'.

In this land of opportunity (read 'poor and overpopulated') there is a 小卖部 (little buy counter) every five to fifteen metres of each and every road and backstreet. Sometimes they are affixed to the back of a bicycle, or a small tricycle powered 'shop on a cart' or, most commonly, operating out of the ground floor apartment of every block of units. At first it feels strange climbing on a chair and then in through  someone's lounge room window, but you get used to it fairly quickly.

It's quite amazing what we can get used to! I'll tell you more soon.

Today is 1 April 2004

and i am

aj