Reflections
February 2010
It seems I
have the urge to put pen to paper again, well tap away at my keyboard anyway. I
have many anecdotes and observations to add, so I may as well do it in this
missive.
I have been
a little bit ‘thrown’ of late, due to now being the proud Father of a baby
girl. I am getting my head around being called ‘Dad’, something I had thought
to be the sole right of my own Father. However, times change. I now find myself
longing to be with this small bundle of whatever, and have to consider things
such as nationality, changing nappies, feeding and foodstuffs; and what I can
do now to ensure she has a good life in 10 or 20 years time. It’s a tad
mind-boggling, but I am coping amiably : -)
Bats in my belfry
Before I
regale you with the minute of our daily lives, let me first relate an unusual
experience that occurred just prior to the main feature below:
Prior to
departing to
Later I
become aware that something is flying around in the room, as evidenced by a
tapping sound coming from the ceiling. Oh-er! I start to pay attention, and
soon see a bat doing whatever it is doing. I don’t have a problem with bats,
and quite like them in a bat sort of way. The night outside is a tad
unpleasant, so I conclude this is a female bat looking for a new roost – or
whatever bats hang from? I watch her for a while and think to open the windows
wide so she can go outside. However, it becomes evident that this is not in her
plan, as she goes to the open window several times, and returns inside. Hmmm? I
have a daft bat in my belfry then.
There is no
hostility between us on either side, although her swooping around my head does
become distracting after a short while. I am sure we cannot cohabitate, but
then what do I do about this situation? I guess this goes on for about 10
minutes, and then she is joined by Mr Bat. Now I have two bats sweeping and
swooning around my office. I decide to close all my work and computer down
until such time the situation is resolved.
I don’t
really have a problem with this, but cannot work when being ‘swooped’, as it is
a tad disconcerting, although I know fine well they will always miss me, just!
I sit and watch them for a while, as Mr Bat decides this is not the right
place, and leaves through the open window. Mrs Bat really likes this gaff, so
hankers a while looking for something her partner may have missed. Of course I
am being sexist and presumptuous – they could easily be of the opposite sex,
each. Well, common – can you tell the sex of a bat or two when they are flying
around your office at great speed? I rest my case! My personal
‘space-time-thought’ continuum has been completely disrupted by these
shenanigans, so I go grab a beer and watch as it all pans out…
… Returning
a short time later I discover the remaining Bat resting on the floor. This
wasn’t in my Top Ten list of things to do today, but I am very intrigued and
look at the Bat. It looks back at me. I go closer and peer closer. It stays put
and looks closer at me. Perhaps it is in situations like these, or as with my
frog detailed below; where you realise just how much communication between
others happens without our knowledge. By which I mean this Bat and I are having
a discourse of whatever description. I am not threatening to kill it, although
it is welcome in my house – somewhere else. In return she is considering the
threat I pose to her, and wondering why I don’t have already fitted Bat roosts.
I leave her to it, although do worry about her slightly – as it is not a nice
night outside = cold and wet + a big wind blowing. Regaining the air, she bombs
me a couple of times before flying out of the window – never to be seen again.
Well that was interesting then.
Co-incidentally,
this period also brings back two very close and lost friends into my life:
Roger Farmer, my oldest living ‘Best Friend’; and Cheryl York, my first love
and first wife. I am very happy to have them back within my inner circle, but
times have moved on so much for me that I remain unsure where we go in the
future? I find the timing very intriguing all the same. Let’s move on…
Toisan Days and Nights
Nonni
(Rhiannon Dorothea Morris: AKA ‘Mo On Kay’) has been living with her Mother Siu
Ying at her Mother’s home in Toisan (Tai Shan: Mandarin [Taishanese: ToyCern])
for three weeks or so. This is a normal Chinese practice, as Grandmothers
usually look after new-born’s, whilst teaching their daughters what to do with
them. I have no problems with this, although I do miss my daughter (And so does
Be Loi, our dog). Needless to say, I have been suffering from Fatherly urges to
see her, and made it so a few days ago.
Thursday
was a bright and welcoming day, and Chinese transportation was perfect. I
caught the midday ferry and found a motorcycle taxi waiting for me at the top
of the ramp. We made it to the town centre on my Cantonese alone, and he
pointed me in the right direction, something I knew already, but thanked him
for extra service all the same. I had waited until midday in the hopes of
drawing some cash out of the local bank ATM, only to be refused four times.
Cummon! I have a very deep and growing resentment of ‘visa.inc.’ as they appear
to be totally hopeless in
I then do
some shopping for Siu Ying, as she needs Ritz crackers with cheese centres =
small problem, as I know the shop sells them, but not what they are called in
Cantonese. Having got nowhere with the owner, I then write the English for one
of the salesgirls, and she immediately says ‘Shit-zee’ or something similar –
and dives into a pile of boxes, retrieving the said goods for purchase. Well
that’s an interesting name for them hahaha!
Back on the
street I grab a motorcycle taxi, and we head off for the bus to Toisan. He
drops me off on the main road, adjacent to a lay-by thingymagig, and I light a
ciggie as I wait for the coach. These things run every 20 minutes, so whilst I
am on my third cigarette, I check the time and note 30-odd minutes have passed.
I must just have missed one then. I do like this bus actually, because it is
about the first to start in the morning, and the last to finish at night. It
connects Toisan with Gon-zhao (
The bus
eventually rocks-up, and I have a short banter with the Conductress. I know her
from previous trips, and also the driver. I get a seat and consider this will
take about 90 minutes. I ring my wife, who is certain this will take me 150
minutes, and she is not hurrying to meet me in
At 2.30 I
exit the coach outside what appears to be a small and unfamiliar coach station
in
She has
decided we are going shopping, and asks me if I want a MacDonald’s = something
I relatively detest. She knows this = strange? We wander around the pedestrian
precinct and associated Mall for a while, and then go for a hair-washy and
massagey. We depart one-hour later, and she takes me to MacDonald’s. WTF? Ahha!
It appears she has arranged to supply take-away for her Number 2 Brothers
daughter. I have a Big Mac Meal-deal; which comes without the dreaded gherkin.
Result! She then grabs extra tomatoe sauces for Loi-Loi, a total fan of the
stuff; and heads off shopping. I finish eating and take a cigarette break
outside. Later Siu Ying returns, and we head back to the bus station via a
Vanguard supermarket, where I buy unsweetened bread, and she buys
‘Gawd-knows-what?’
We head
back to the street and all the taxis are full at this time of day (6pm-ish) so
we catch bus number 1 and head off. Reaching the bus station, we then kiss and
enter the main bus station proper. The bus we want is full, and located in trap
number one – filed for future reference. It duly departs, and 5-minutes later
the next charabanc arrives. We board and are soon on our way. Siu Ying falls
asleep, so I clock the countryside and make the right move when we approach our
destination. Waking her just in time, we egress and are met by a couple of
motorcycle taxis eager for our patronage. Within a few minutes we rock-up in
The Village, and Mama espies me as we pay our fares. She has a big smile and is
very welcoming.
Entering
the home laden down with baggage, Baba comes hustling through and gives me a
bowl of rice porridge. Not exactly what I wanted at this exact moment in time,
and better if I had first gotten rid of all the bags – but he is very kind to
me; so I thank him, put the bowl down, and dropping my bags, pick up my
daughter. I am aware that young babies cannot see the way we do, but react more
to light. However, she does know my voice and a great big smile sweeps across
her face. This touched me in a previously unknown way. The others nearby also
clocked this, and talked about it for ages afterwards. They all start calling me ‘Baba’ after this episode.
Fiddlesticks!
The evening
is uneventful, and later our sleep is constantly interrupted by Nonni who wants
feeding and cries a lot. Siu Ying is having trouble producing enough milk, and
Nonni likes to feed hourly. We make a bottle and she quietens, only to wake
again a short time after. At 4am Siu Ying’s Mama comes up and collects the
child from our bed, thus allowing her daughter some time for sleep. All too
soon the ‘day-glow pirate’ arrives welcoming in a new day. I watch him arise
through the trees, and snap a couple of shots as support for my missives,
whilst pondering some larger issues within my own life. However, the call to be
with my daughter is strong, and so it is not long before I head downstairs and
re-join the human race.
Today is
now Wednesday, and our aim is to register Nonni with the local Population
Control Bureau. I’m not sure as to the why’s and what’s, but Siu Ying is
adamant this is a necessity in
Whilst I am
pondering if this is my fault, or perhaps a good time for opening a beer? I get
a garbled message from Mama to say there is a small problem. Her speaking makes
almost no sense to me, so she adds extra words and speaks quicker for my
benefit. Right! Half an hour later Siu Ying rocks-up, and explains to me I need
to speak to Paul Yuan. Apparently the girl in the reception doesn’t speak
English, and needs both of my divorce certificates to process this ‘whatever it
is’. She also wants them translating into English so she can understand them.
Well, we already went through this one before when we got married, and as a
condition of our marriage … but I go along with the flow and speak to Paul –
who really has become one of my best and most trusted friends of late. I take
to calling this girl ‘Chee-sing leung loi’, which roughly translates as ‘stupid
girl’! Siu Ying entirely agrees, so ‘Chee-sing leung loi’ it is then!
Now I am
well aware that this process can be concluded anytime over the next few months,
but Siu Ying is gain foul of her Aunt (I think it’s her Father’s older Sister,
who lives next door’. She is a quite poisonous person, and has told the family
I have a wife in
The
documents are at home in Gaogong, and the translation will take a while, as
Paul is busy with other commitments. Siu Ying decides we will leave at 5am. OK.
The evening
passes and we all go to bed. This night I talk Siu Ying into removing some of
the baby’s clothes, as I am sure part of the reason she is crying so much (And
there is always a good reason why a baby cries), is that she is simply too hot.
I get rid of the outer layer, which is some form of baby sized quilt, and Nonni
sleeps well. She awakens for feeding of course, but otherwise the night is
pretty good. I awake at 4.20 and linger to watch my wife and child sleeping.
Around 5.30 I head for a cigarette, extracting myself from our bed with great
care so as to not wake either of them. Downstairs I find the low lights, and
make a ready-mix coffee of Malaysian origin. Wow! Excellent stuff!!!
As my day
comes together, Baba rushes in thanking me for waking them up in time. Oh-er -
Did I do that? Apparently so, and he then proceeds to wake the rest of the
household. Siu Ying is so very tired and is out of it – a bit like a walking rag
doll really. Anyways, we have travels today, and at 6am head off for the main
road bus, via motorcycle taxi Baba has arranged. In the twilight, the
motorcycle taxi spots the bus we need from a mile away (WTF?), which we later
board and are on our way. We arrive in
We arrive
in Gaogong, and again it is I who works out where we are and when to stop the
coach. Siu Ying has been asleep most of the way, and I think she is impressed
with me in a small way. We get off the coach and go across the road where a
motorcycle taxi is regaling us. We eventually get a sensible price out of the
guy, and Siu Ying is amazed when we stop a minute later in the town centre.
Ahha! I knew this one lol.
I stop the
motorcycle just short, as I want to buy some drills and boy’s stuff from a hardware
shop I espied on the way out … was that really only yesterday? A comedy of errors
of course, but I eventually speak and mime my way through it all, purchasing
exactly what I want. So: 2 masonry drills, 12 rawl plugs and 12 suitable screws
= 6 RMB, call it 50
We head for
the local store to buy a large 6-pack of ‘pure milk’ for my coffee, and other
items as we encounter them. We meander around for a while, throwing things into
the basket – as you do. We leave and I head for The Bank of China in the vain
hopes that my visa card will actually work today. Siu Ying tags along until we
reach the shop that sells the ‘Rit-zee’ crackers with cheese. She goes inside
and purchases, whilst I wait outside. As she comes out, I suddenly remember
that we didn’t actually buy any milk. Durrrh! She then heads back to the
supermarket, whilst I take all the bags and go to the Bank. ‘Cor Blimey’! It
works first time!!! This is cause for celebrations, and dancing naked around
maypoles spring to mind – so unusual is this event. Please note this is a very
strange occurrence visa.inc!
We do the
motorcycle taxi’s to the ferry terminal (There are no car taxi’s here by the
way), and have just missed the ferry – so wait on the quay for almost an hour.
Boarding we take seats, and then Siu Ying recognises one of the passengers – he
is the local Chief of Police – so Siu Ying taps him up for a ride home in his
car. Amazing! He deposits us at the end of our lane, and I head to see Be Loi
(Whom I am very worried about), whilst Siu Ying chews the cud with the local
girls. I am pretty sure they are doing: “Girls taking about babies”.
Be Loi is
very pleased to see me, and her legs turn into springs! Then she is totally made-up
as she recognises ‘Mistress’! I am pretty sure this will be an overnight jobby,
as we have to fit our request for translation into Paul’s schedule. But first
off, we feed Be Loi with ready mixed dog food in lieu of cooking immediately.
We settle in for the night; me checking emails and business, whilst Siu Ying heads
off out with Be Loi, and comes back a few hours later after socialising and
winning at Mah J’here (Mah Jongg). She rings her Mother to say she will not be
returning tonight. Her Mother is not impressed at all, and hangs-up the phone
on her. Ooops!
Well no
actually – because we have a lot to do here, and this is unfair. In my mind it
was always an overnight anyways. Perhaps I am selfish also, because we could
probably have made it back that night – but I do need to re-bond with my wife.
So instead of trying to catch a last bus, we head for the nearest local
restaurant and eat whatever it was Siu Ying ordered? During the course of the
meal, we discover we are seated with the real owner, a woman in her late 80’s,
who was born and raised on this island; and has never left it in her entire
life! We contrive to take a meal back for Be Loi, which is later enjoyed
immensely. We go to sleep together alone for possibly the last time in a very
long while … and the evening and the morning becomes the next day.
I awake at
11pm, whilst my wife sleeps in until midnight. We are both ‘Night people’, and
I make no apologies for this fact of our lives. She bollocks me for not
sweeping the floors (Not a Boy thingymagig) and then proceeds to mop them. I
concentrate on getting all music direct downloads off of my website, whilst she
cleans; and then starts sorting out stuff. I capitulate and join her tasks,
adding notes to my mental ‘To do’ list. Put this here and that there etc. I
conclude ‘Girls’ must live very complicated and immediate lives.
We carry on
in said fashion until the timings for the 6.20 morning ferry become imminent.
Siu Ying cooks a mega-meal for Be Loi, whilst I finish up my stuff. She has put
the clock forward by 5-minutes, so to avoid missing the ferry – except she
knows this, and now allows ten minutes = minus 5-minutes. As we scramble out of
here post-haste, Siu Ying grabs anything and everything of use, including our
rubbish for throwing out along the way. Be Loi is not impressed as we depart,
but that’s life I guess. My wife reaches the rubbish collection point and
deposits said rubbish in the bin. It is then we discover she has inadvertently
picked up a pair of padded trousers – which I had been quite insistent she take
with her. She is aghast, but I am mollified. She then wares them as a scarf,
and we both burst out in uncontrollable laughter, and ‘Love’ blossoms once more
to play its part in our lives.
I’ll skip
the minute of travel, except to say we get the same bus crew and driver from
before. Apparently I am becoming a celebrity on this bus route. We get off the
bus in
However, we
have our secrets: Like when she holds my finger in her hand as we are asleep; or
when we laugh about farting – something I am very pleased to report she is very
good at! The adults are not impressed, so we keep this as our special secret
and something I may reveal to her when she is a grown adult hahaha!
I never
thought that I would be the one to spend hour’s cuddling and watching a ‘Baby’.
But I like it a lot! This small thing, my Nonni; has changed the way I view
life in some very fundamental ways. Practised parents will understand this I am
sure – so forgive me as this is our first time. I do spend a lot of my time
trying to work out what is best for her – let’s say in 10, 20 or 30 years time.
What skills will she need, and what would her life to be? What will her world
be like? Whilst I mull over the prognosis that Blighty will by then probably be
lost in a world of insular European mediocrity and bureaucratic control of
previously independent Countries; I also see
By the time
she reaches adulthood, I will be a very old man. I make no apologies for this,
as this world is composed of all-sorts. Knowing me well the way I do – this
will be a minor problem, perhaps because I am Irish…
Returning
to this present, I note that Nonni is swathed in many wrappers – so our
attempts at lighter clothing were soon overturned. I call her my ‘Hot Chick’,
something she really enjoys; and we spar about this for ages. The adults give
us curious looks from time to time; but basically leave us alone until I
finally get her off to sleep – a most wonderful feeling. It is then that Mama
decides to wake her up for feeding. Durrr! I am then sent off to play with the
boys or drinks beers, whilst the women of the household take over. Meanwhile,
Nonni really does want to sleep a lot; and is totally disinterested in milk,
changing, or being bathed. I watch with some consternation and curiosity. You
know, you really cannot apply your personal clock to that of a baby … I await
with baited breath.
Sure
enough, Mama succeeds in waking Nonni up. Wow, that’s a result then? They spend
the next 2-hours feeding her; as first Siu Ying has a go with both, then the
milk bottle is produced and emptied, then Siu Ying has another go. Siu Ying
then changes the nappies (They like the Pampers Brand best, simply because they
work and the Chinese copies don’t). After this is sorted, Mama then decides
that as Nonni is now awake, that she needs a bath. This should put her to
sleep, but it doesn’t. The Pampers worn for 5-minutes are replaced with a new
set … and I wonder?
I mean,
maybe I am a boy and don’t understand this stuff properly + add in ‘China’, but
all the same, I am sure there is a better way to do all this stuff?
Rhiannon
does go to sleep afterwards, if only for one hour. Then she is wide awake all
night long and looking for ‘adventures’. This kid is obviously a night person
like her parents, so I am thinking we should go with the flow here, and like
adapt to the baby’s natural rhythms. I keep my own counsel and watch as things
develop. I over-ride very occasionally, as this is not a power I am in a
position to abuse.
There are
some very interesting contrasts in culture though; for instance: Chinese do not
‘Burp’ babies after feeding – one reason I think why Nonni is sometimes sick.
She is not ill, or a troublesome child, but she eats and gains air in the wrong
places, and needs to get rid of it. Siu Ying’s Mother does not like me trying
to Burp Nonni, and is totally against it. We agree to disagree. Well that’s one
of my Aces used. A second is for Gripe Water, another known beneficial aid, now
derided as poppycock by the USA FDA, who recently forced suppliers to change
its category. I will bring some back from
Nonni
sleeps and wakes for feeding. I am worried about Siu Ying’s health, but she
tells me she is fine, simply tired all the time. However, we all awake at 6am,
so at 7 we head off for the village wet market. I didn’t even know they had
one, as it is held early mornings and is located outside the far side of the
village. I take some snaps along the way with my mobile phone. The picture
quality is not good, but it will suffice to give readers an idea of the village
and surroundings. They are already posted on my website, which you can find
here: http://www.china-expats.com/Gallery/main.php
Note: If
you use Opera browser or have difficulty with this link, then please press down
the right hand side ‘Ctrl’ key and click – not the other on the left side. This
is also true if you sometimes need to use the ‘Alt’ key. These are known as
‘Great Ctrl’ and ‘Great Alt’ respectively.
The walk to
the wet market takes ten minutes, and is the usual mass of people and vendors.
There are many stalls selling meat and others selling vegetables. Dispersed haphazardly
between these are specialists selling fish, chicken, fungi, and other household
and culinary items. Siu Ying buys some spare ribs for me, and a couple of
strange cauliflower that are rather leggy. I am probably the first foreigner
many of these people have ever seen in the flesh, and of course they all start
talking about me. I have brief conversations with a few of them, and they are
amazed I speak the local language. On one occasion, seeing as Siu Ying is
running low on small change, the vendor tells Siu Ying the price and I hand
over the exact cash. She accepts this gladly, and then you can see her stop to
consider. You see, my wife did not say anything to me during the transaction,
which in turn means that I understood the price the woman quoted, and got it
exactly right, even to parts of an RMB. It’s water off a ducks back to me. She
then starts blabbing away about this to the guy on the next stall as we wander
off to complete our shopping.
We don’t
actually buy very much else, but on the way out I am asked if I fancy some ‘sik
juk’ (Rice porridge). I am not particularly hungry, but we go inside a tumble
down shack near the entrance only to find this day they are completely sold out
already. That’s about 7.20am. Heading homewards I take some more snaps for your
enjoyment, and reaching home it is time to feed Nonni again. I ask my wife if
she wants me to bring back an electric bottle warmer from Hong Kong, as I am
sure I have seen these things in
Later Siu
Ying is on cooking duty for the extended family now living in the house.
Sometime after the table is hurriedly set and we all sit down for brunch. I
gorge myself on delicious spare ribs, and also take a liking for a sort of
potatoe stew thingymagig, and of course the weird cauliflower splodge (Be great
with some chillies). They occasionally try and force fish and chicken into my
bowl, but I am very happy eating my choices. The fish is riddled with sharp
bones that whilst very tasty, make it too much hassle to eat. The chicken is of
course chopped whole into a million pieces, each one containing small shards of
bone. I can happily do without both. I have also given up eating rice as this
upsets my eating routines. Chinese rice is made so it is just cooked, meaning
the grains are small and dry. These then swell in your stomach making you feel
very full. But as most of this is actually water, it soon disappears leaving
you hungry soon after the meal is finished. I can’t be done with it, except
when eating a sloppy food with curry or gravy. I also have a very serious
problem with the Potatoe thingymagig I really love; because this time someone
(Not my wife) decided to add 10-tons of sugar to it. They actually taste very
much like sickly-sweet Toffee Apples.
After lunch
Siu Ying and I catch the local bus to see the stupid woman in the local town
Population Control Bureau. We get there about 3pm and the processing takes all
of 1-minute, and everything is in order – except she forgot to tell Siu Ying
she also needs to provide a passport sizes photograph. We head for the main
town, a collection of ramshackled buildings and shops, and find a local wedding
shop with a photographer. He takes the portrait picture of my wife, and then determines
to ‘pwac-ti-ces his In-ger-lishey’ on me. He is actually quite good and very notable
in such a small and undistinguished rural town. He tells us the photograph will
be ready at 8am the next day - prompt.
Meanwhile,
Siu Ying has decided I need to go for a ‘hair-washey’, not that I need one, but
I do enjoy these. She asks some girls on the street if there is one nearby, and
they say ‘No’. We walk 5 yards to the street corner, and find one immediately
across the road. Ho-hum!
Entering
Siu Ying issues instruction and I am soon seated in a barbers chair whilst a
young girl attends to me. She sprays my hair with water and adds something
dispensed from a fancy container with English writing on the outside. The
contents could actually be anything, but she labours away and soon produces a
fine head of foam. Her nails are excellent therapy as she massages my scalp
extremely well. So well in fact that I would possibly state this is the best ‘hair
washey’ I have ever had the pleasure to enjoy! However, the girl does not
possess some of the more advanced skills older and more experienced people have
acquired. Still, it is very, and she is very good at what she knows!
The owner
is an outgoing fellow who insists on speaking to me in Mandarin for some weird
reason, despite the fact I am answering him in Cantonese. The other and older
girl tries to tell him to speak Cantonese to me, but he carries on regardless,
whilst speaking Cantonese to the rest of the staff. This is also a very common conundrum
with many Chinese people, as they are convinced that all foreigners who speak
Chinese will only ever speak Mandarin. They never seem to listen to what you
are actually saying, and changing their mindset can be very tiresome, as on
this occasion. However, language is not required for what he then offered me,
as pointing to the girl doing my hair, he enquired if I would like to spend
some time with her alone. Oh my life! Whilst she was rather attractive, my mind
is on many other issues at the moment, so I politely declined his offer.
As the girl
is finishing up, Siu Ying returns from shopping with some trainers she has bought
for Loi Loi, Yee-Lo’s (Number 2 Brother) daughter. I am then directed to the
main barbers chair and the reason for this visit then becomes apparent. My wife
instructs him in cutting my hair, and a short time later we leave with me
looking like a hedgehog. This is going to take a very long time to grow back,
but everyone I meet tells me how young and handsome I now look – even if it is
still winter here and a tad drafty around the lugholes. I find succour in the
knowledge that if my wife is happy with me, then I am happy also.
We again
return home, this time for feeding and bathing Nonni, before a late dinner is
served, consisting mainly of leftovers (No food is ever wasted), and 3 red
mullet. The girls are into watching some Cantonese historical soap drama which
leaves me stone-cold. It is shown every evening, and lasts for hours. It could
probably go one for years. Nonni and I semi-nod in the far chair before it is
time for bed – except I am wide awake … and so is Nonni. The girls all head for
bed around 9.30, so I scan the channels before eventually finding some sort of
Cantonese Police action thingymagig. It is half interesting, but too soon I
find myself also going to bed – mainly out of sheer boredom. Both Nonni and Siu
Ying are asleep as I climb into bed with them, and they continue sleeping for
several hours. Around 2am Nonni awakes and is very hungry. They go downstairs
where they are later joined by Mama. They return around 4am and are both
straight back to sleep again in moments.
Rising at
9.30, I make my way downstairs for some truly excellent packet coffee from
I will
leave today to return to the human race and look after Be Loi our dog. Siu Ying
and I plan to catch the 2.10 bus into the small town so she can finish
processing with the photograph taken yesterday. We slip by a few minutes, so
2.30 finds us waiting on the road outside the village for the bus that runs
every 30 minutes. It is due at 2.40 by the way. I smoke a cigarette and we
wait. Time passes. We wait some more, and more time passes. At 3.17 the bus
going in the opposite direction goes past. The charabanc we want eventually
rocks-up at 3.37pm, so I guess one or two aren’t running today then? Boarding
this ‘Creaky Coop (Of Whacky Races infamy) – which is a most interesting and
unusual vehicle, if from a perspective of ancient motorised transportational
history - Siu Ying has a go at both the driver and conductor, but this falls
upon totally deaf ears.
We both
know we have a new plan, so Siu Ying disembarks at the small town alone, whilst
I remain on board headed for
I get my
ticket from the window, and from a girl who is amazed I am speaking Cantonese.
To be sure she writes down the destination, which I concur with, adding the
Mandarin name for the place. Incidentally, Chinese people have a habit of doing
this – if you do not understand what they are saying, or they need to make sure
of spoken words, they will invariably write down what they mean in Chinese
characters … as if that helps a hill of beans in this crazy country! However:
Gao gong = Jiu Jiang = 九江 is pretty simple, even for a linguistically
challenged Brit such as yours truly.
I have 10
minutes before the bus pulls out, ideal for a crafty fag. I have regaled above
just how much I like these particular buses, as they are very good. They know
all the short-cuts and are very quick. If you are new to Chinese road
transportation, then you could liken them to being as thrilling as a
roller-coaster ride, but I am well used to it by now and they suit me well.
Anyway, I like roller-coasters!
Well knock
me down with a feather! You may have inferred by now that
Whilst I am
grateful for this youth’s assistance, it is not something I could not have
accomplished on my own. Remember the ferry crew was also about to step in and
help also. However, he uses this as an opening to talk at me during our wait
for the ferry, and also whilst on board. Now you may call me selfish, which I
probably am; but I am tired, stressed a little from the journey, and just want
to chill. He is definitely not easy to understand in any language, and I note other
locals also dissuade him from conversation. We dock without incident, and I
begin the short walk home. The lad disappears on the pillion of a motorbike,
and I begin to relax a little. I am almost home when the lad reappears on a
bicycle. He keeps asking me if I am hungry (A Chinese greeting), and I insist I
am fine - in three languages! I am very grateful for his help earlier, but now
he can leave me, thank you. Arriving at my gate laden down with baggage, I am
greeted by a very excited Be Loi who is in dire need of immediate attention and
feeding. Unlocking the gate I go inside, and as the lad and his bike try to
follow, I courteously thank him for his help again, close the gate with him
outside, and bidding farewell slide the latch across to semi lock the outside
gate. I begin to attend to Be Loi when I hear the latch open, and the lad
appearing with his bike again. I seriously do not need this just now and rather
forcefully bar his passage and eject him and said bicycle from my property. I
consider he is not all there up top? Don’t worry, I did not resort to violence
in any way, but I was very firm; something that is occasionally required in
Having
later sorted out the dog, caught up with pressing work matters, I chill with a
beer – and am missing my daughter. How crazy is that? I ring my wife to say I
am back home safe, and spend some time chatting with Nonni – well, we are
making sounds at each other really. Siu Ying comes back on to say Nonni is
smiling happily, and so I follow suit. Ahhh!
I will
finish with my trips here, and save any new ones for future missives. This
discourse was always intended to be more about emotions and life + some of the
funny and curious things that happen along the way. These I will detail below
in due course, but first - tonight I have to face the fact that neither my wife
nor I are the most important people in the world – our child is. I have new
emotions never before tapped. I also have continuing concerns regarding her
nationality and education, and which country we will live in. This will all
work out of course and I am not worried about any of it. However, my days of
being, ‘One of the lads’ may be over for a long while - and my pint of beer
replaced with a baby’s feeding bottle. Crikey!
My wife has
also asked me if I would consider moving to
Island Life:
The new day
ushers in a small backlog of work, which I process as needs be. I find time to
reply to personal emails also, and by 6.30am head out with Be Loi for the local
wet market and some sik juk. The day passes without anything notable, except a
call to my wife and child, and retiring early I again crash out on the settee.
During the night I hear a crash from our kitchen, which implies we have a
house-guest of the animal kind. I very much doubt it will be the stray cat, so
imagine it to be a mouse or similar. I go back to sleep. The next morning I
make a coffee and half-heartedly decide to investigate. I note no mouse
droppings, but duly espy a rather curious thing of similar origin, which is
oval and looks like a deer dropping. Hmmm! None the wiser I forget about this
and go about my daily whatever. Nearer midnight I descend the stairs and in the
dim backlight see something about mouse size hiding in the corner of the room
nearest my right foot. Again I have no problem, as Chinese mice are quite timid
and harmless – we had one who lived outside our kitchen apartment window in
Foshan = on the 18th Floor! It disappears as soon as I move, and I
think to catch it and put it outside another time. It has vanished anyways. The
next evening I again here some sounds from the kitchen area, and needing a
toilet break, decide to follow. In the corner of our bathroom I am greeted by an
hysterically frightened frog. We watch each other for a moment before it dives
for cover. I sit down on the toilet and contemplate just how lucky I am to have
a visiting frog – I mean, Cummon – it could just as easily have been a snake or
something a lot more hideous. A frog? I don’t have a problem with this, and really
hope it likes to eat cockroaches and mosquitoes : -)
The time is
now around one week later, and I am editing this missive. The frog is still
living somewhere in my kitchen, and I really don’t have the heart to catch it
and throw it outside. We meet occasionally, me with interest whilst the frog is
distraught with worry. It’s just so intangible and harmless that I really
haven’t spared the time to work out what to do about it, although I do wonder sometimes
what it finds to eat? I’m actually considering keeping it as a pet – do you
know any ‘Frog-Whisperers’ who could lend me some advice?
Otherwise
life continues with its associated trivia. Be Loi is becoming a young woman
dog, and has taken to applying ‘dog perfume’ whenever the chance presents
itself. I dread to think what this may be, but it stinks to high heaven of
something fetid and disgusting. I think she likes to chase the ‘Boy dogs’, and
is now bigger in size than her peers. I am trying to teach her to drink out of
the toilet bowl (As all Western dogs love to do), but so far my efforts have
been met with complete indifference. However, she does like to drink cool water
from one of the large bowls in our bathroom, and occasionally samples water
from the one the frog uses, although she hasn’t quite got the taste for this
yet. After a few slurps she invariably turns to me with a quissical look on her
face. I conclude she has not actually met the frog yet – some watchdog she is
then!
And as I
resolve what status Nonni will have in this world at large, so I also resolve
what status the itinerant frog will have in my kitchen. I need to spend a lot
of time considering my Daughters future; however the frog’s future is fine and
easy. If it were a mouse it would now be living at the opposite end of the
island. If it were a snake, a cockroach, or a mosquito it would be dead by now.
A frightened frog is such an imponderable mammal. Now you may think I am crazy?
Certainly my friends do, as do workmates and colleagues + professionals in the fields
of mental health – but that’s not the way I see it … and I take a joke from
Eric Idle (adapted to my frog), just in case you wondered. My written words
imply I have taken ownership – now that is an interesting development. “My Frog
and I” could actually be the title of a film or show = the mind boggles. This
gibberish actually installs and supports the fact I am really thinking about
Rhiannon in a very big and subconscious way. Just spoke to her and Siu Ying on
the phone, and all is well with them today.
Honouring the Ancestors
Today is
Thursday 11th February and I am so hot that I have removed my
tee-shirt and put the fan on – not a pretty sight! Earlier today our Landlady
Mok Tai came around to renew the Buddhist writings on the walls and doors, and
honour her ancestors, whose home I currently occupy. She arrives an hour later
than scheduled in company with a teenage girl for translation purposes. I had
sussed out why they would be coming today, so it was not a surprise when she
produced a ton of red papers with golden writing on them. Her first priority is
to cook a chicken for the ancestors – so she takes over my kitchen for a while.
Meanwhile the girl and I are given instructions to remove all the old papers
from last year (And the years before). I am essential to this process, as I am
at least a foot taller than Mok Tai, and 18 inches higher than the girl.
The girl
practices her English on me, but it appears her main teachers are Chinese, and
she has had some contact with an American also. My British accent is pretty
neutral, but she does have problems understanding me all the same. I slow my
words and put a space between each one, also using simpler words and grammar in
the process. Later we talk about this in a little depth. She can’t get her head
around the fact that I speak Cantonese (A little), and not Mandarin. In fact
she does not even know what these words mean until I explain them to her. In
particular, explaining what foreigners mean by words such as Cantonese and
Mok Tai
leaves my kitchen to bubble whatever’s, and sets about adding some form of glue
to the backs of the red papers with gold letting on them. Then this really gets
interesting from a cultural exchange point of view – because the fancy gold
lettering is actually written in Cantonese (Traditional Chinese). Apparently I
am the only one of us three who understands any of it. Hahaha! You have to laugh
to keep from crying sometimes!
So
basically we have sets of three red papers that form the surrounds for a
gateway or door. Each is a foot wide, and the top one is about 2-feet long,
whilst the droppers for either said of the given gate or doorway are 8 feet
long. Obviously the top one is no problem, but deciding which side of the
entranceway the two droppers should go comes down to my personal understanding
of written Cantonese and previous experiences. I am pretty sure I got it right
– and that would be for one outside gate and 4 doors all told. This is turning
out to be a little more ‘entertainment’ than I had envisaged.
We continue
in said fashion within and without the house, until all papers are replaced.
The papers themselves give off a tacky red dye that adheres to everything, so I
wash my hands frequently. After a couple of hours the chicken is cooked and
presented to the Ancestors, along with buns and fruit + some of my rice wine =
no problem, enjoy! Special candles and joss sticks are lit in honour as we
progress through every nook and cranny of the house. Meanwhile Be Loi has also
been out and about, and chooses this moment to return to the house – having
just rolled in something disgusting! From the stench I can only presume it was
decomposed dead rat of the green variety – a charmer for boy dogs apparently! I
better watch her actually, as she seems to be becoming a sassy young thing.
However, all my attempts to train her to drink out of the toilet have so far
met with complete indifference. Sometimes she drinks out of the large bowl the
Frog uses, and each time gives me a slightly quissical look. This dog still has
a lot to learn about life methinks…
We finish
hanging red papers upstairs adjacent to my office, and I take time to show the
girls some pictures of Siu Ying and Nonni which are in my computer. We have a
laugh and ‘googoogoo’ etc, and then Mok Tai goes downstairs, whilst the girl
asks me for more pictures of interesting things, and especially of
Be Loi is
remaining a serious ‘no-go’ area due to her personalised ‘perfume’, so I head
back upstairs to edit this missive. Within 5-minutes the girl rushes into the
office and closes the front windows. She says something unintelligible and
rushes out again. That was interesting then? I sit there for a few moments
pondering what import this has; when all of a sudden I hear Chinese crackers
exploding from my yard. Mok Tai has returned and is exorcising ‘evil spirits’.
After visually checking from the window, I make the mistake of going downstairs
to investigate – damn but these things are very loud!
The
firecracker ends with a very loud bang, enough to wake the dead, never mind the
living! My yard is covered in red confetti by now, and Mok Tai is busy. It has
been wet these days in general (Unseasonably), so I pick up the broom and sweep
the yard for the second time today (I swept it first for her arrival). Having
dealt with the worst of it, I am sweeping near the wall when my next door
neighbour shouts through that I have woken all of them up. I say it wasn’t me
and turning, point to Mok Tai, who has selected this precise moment to leave
through the front gate. The girl is still watching TV inside = I am culpable! I
think not, but she seems to think this was all my idea and is not impressed,
especially as it awakened their toddler. I find enough Cantonese within me to
deal with her highly local version of the language, sympathise, and continue my
task. Mok Tai reappears as I am about to finish. Hmmm!
Then in
typical Chinese fashion they suddenly collect all their things and with a quick
‘thankyou and goodbye’, are gone within 30 seconds. I then sweep the inside of
the house, again for the second time today, and pile everything into a very
large plastic bag for taking to the tip. I don’t trust Be Loi not to explore
this at all, so go to the tip again – for the second time today. I make a
mental note to mop the floors … sometime
The
internal downstairs floors have been wet now for about 10 days, and this is the
first day they have been dry. The cold wet weather has not helped this one iota.
Then this is compounded by the ceilings leaking in three or four places. I
would consider taking action about this, but as I am pretty sure we will be
moving to Toisan in a few months time, I decide to put up with it for the time
being.
I go back
to work and the sun sets. This ushers in a cold wind I seriously do not like.
Within minutes the fan is turned off, and I start donning clothing. This
continues for a couple of hours, as the wind adds a very icy edge to it. In
Blighty this would not be a problem, but in this part of
Chinese New
Year officially starts on New Years Eve, with a family meal at the parent’s
home. I actually miss this because my travel plans are interrupted by a nasty
dose of the runs. Siu Ying is not impressed, but mollifies when I explain to
her that I have been virtually glued to the toilet seat for the last 2 hours,
and have no intentions of going anywhere further than 10 seconds dash from it
until the crisis subsides. Later I cook for Be Loi, and make the mistake of
also eating myself – which heralds a reprise. As I sit and reflect upon life
and the universe from my personal thrown, I hear firecrackers being set off all
around. These are lit to scare away evil spirits. This continues around the
island for the next 2 days almost constantly, with a slight break between 3.10
am and about 5 am. So what was all that stuff yesterday from my neighbour all
about then? This practise also honours the ancestors, keeping them safe within
the home. Chinese people do have a problem with ghosts as they call them,
although words such as evil spirits and demons are also used by the more
educated. These beliefs are very deep-routed within their culture, and too the
extent that on occasion in Foshan, Siu Ying saw some ‘ghosts’ apparently. I was
never quite sure what she really meant by this, but quite frightened she was
when these things happened to her. The frequency was probably about once per
year, so not a big problem I am sure. She was always safe from them inside our
home. She has also seen some in our island home since, but is not frightened of
them, so I presume they must be the ancestors out for a stroll? You may also
presume I am not really into this stuff, and have not as yet seen one.
Meanwhile,
the refrigerator has been playing up again, and it finally comes to my direct
attention during the one hot day Mok Tai visited. This had been bubbling away
in my subconscious for some days, but after peace and tranquillity once again
descended upon my world, I headed for a nice cold beer to wash down the days
events. I have to say that the inside of the fridge was notably warmer than the
weather in my dining room. I endure one warmish Chinese beer (Not very nice),
whilst consider calling out the repair guy again. Focussing my direct attention
on the problem, I head downstairs to investigate thoroughly. The outside of the
appliance is warm, but not hot. Checking the insides I note the fans are
working (It is a seriously complicated fridge with separate temperature
controls for both freezer and fridge sections; that fan icy cold and dry air
through the compartments), but I do
remember it has been running constantly for as long as I can remember. Not
good. I peer into the ice box, as this part is about at cold as the
refrigerator section below should be. I soon suss out the air vents are blocked
with ice, and taking a handy knife, get rid of said blockages. Of course this
does nothing, as the air supply channels will also be full of ice = no airflow.
I have also
noted this appliance chills the freezer section first, and then the fridge.
Therefore if the freezer is not cold, it will not chill the later. There is
only one thing to do – so putting the remaining beers into the freezer section,
I turn the thing off in the hopes the temperature is warm enough to get rid of
any ice blockages. I do not add a bowl of hot water, as this fridge doesn’t
work like that, and dry air is essential. Therefore I open both doors and
taking a last beer, drink coffee for the rest of the evening. Next day I
surface and do my routines. I guess I have given the thing about 24 hours
before I go back to investigate progress. All ice has disappeared, and so I
close the doors and switch it on again. Blimey! Within 15 minutes my things are
getting cold or frozen respectively, and the job’s a good-un. I have worked out
the cause also: you see, getting edible bread is a nightmare in
The annual
‘Big chill’ arrives just in time for CNY, and this heralds perhaps the coldest
period I have ever know during my 7 years in China. This period is when all
Chinese head home to be with family, and
Needless to
say, I failed to make the ferry on the 12th, due to continuing intestinal
problems possibly related to the freezer not working? The last bus was
scheduled for around 2pm, and then
This
contrasts markedly with our last visit, when the World and His Wife were busy
buying everything from this same venue. Obviously I missed a trick there – but
at the time I was not aware the island simply closed for several days. Full
stop!
I probably
paid over the odds for today’s offerings, but later I relate these to general
supermarket prices, and they are not inflated by much. We go home the other
way, and pass the local shop which is open. I am greeted by Fatty Arbuckle, who
is not selling sik juk (Rice Porridge) from his sik juk palace this morning. We
‘High-5’ and I wish him and the shop owners a very happy Chinese New Year of
the Tiger in Cantonese. Replying in kind, we wend our way homewards.
Today is
one of the coldest I have ever experienced in my life … and it is that eating
cold that gets into your bones after days of exposure to it. Everything you use
or touch is icy, and whilst there is no hint of frost, it is very cold due to
the wind from the
I guess I
will be writing about another new adventure quite soon, so it is time to end
this missive and wish all readers a very happy, prosperous, and healthy: New
Year of the Tiger.
Jonno