A Test Of Will Power

Chinese National Day is upon us. From October 1st to the 7th I have no pressing duties. Well, apart from duty to get drawn on. We expats will celebrate the break by going out tonight. I've found that with my inability to drink that I've been less and less excited about going out. Though tonight I'll be able to meet some new people, which more often than not is better than a kick in gonads. But, will I be able to fully enjoy myself as I watch all others present become mentally incapacitated by sweet, sweet beer? My current feeling is no, no I will not.

I don't know who first said that you don't need alcohol to enjoy yourself. But, when it comes to hanging out at a bar that ideology is complete and utter bollocks. Alcohol makes it all so much more fun and everyone becomes increasingly more attractive. Why would you say that you don't need it to have fun? Is it fun sitting down in a booth, quietly sighing, watching everyone else laughing their heads off and maybe even some impromptu dancing and singing? Show me where the fun is and I'll agree with you. Maybe it'd be just as fun if no one was drinking, but what are the chances that is going to happen.

The real test is will I be able to look at all that drinking and stop myself from joining in. Can I resist the urge? I'm going to stop thinking about it for the moment, it's too depressing. You can take the party away from me, but you can't take it out of me.

Andy Scott

Tattoo This! #5

As per our agreement I happened upon the tattoo parlour today with high hopes. I sat myself down as the artist and I began discussing how this inked monstrosity was to attach itself on. We mentioned size and he began measuring my back and followed that with a self satisfying thumbs up. He was in. All that was left was to discuss the financial transaction. I queried the man on how much he thought this would set me back, his answer caused me to break into a sigh of relief. If you remember I said that I'd hoped I could haggle him down to 2000 yuan, which is roughly just over $300 Australian dollars. Pretty reasonable for a tattoo covering my whole back. 2000 yuan was his starting price, I immediately said okay. Is this here another example of fate or coincidence at work? I just can't tell the two apart any more.

So, it's done. Next week is a national holiday, a perfect time for me to get inked up. I have to have two sessions one on Monday and one the following Monday. I guess that must be time to let the flesh heal enough to start stabbing at it again. I'm really excited now. The only problem is that it's going to leave me living like a pauper for the next month unless I do something drastic. And I don't mean selling my body, because I can't see myself making a fortune doing that. No, I'll have to sell my foreign-ness and take up some private classes, voluntarily use my spare time to tutor someone. Urghh. I've never been a big fan of those kind of classes, so I rarely do them. But, this time I think I'll just have to bite the bullet.

In other non-news I've been having a bit of fun with photoshop. You know creating side splittingly hilarious images. Like the following:


I know it may not be the best quality photoshop, but it's a pretty good start. I'm getting the hang of it. Maybe I'll make it a feature of this site. A picture speaks a thousand words. So that would therefore mean if I make one picture that is 1,000 words that I do not have type. Well, that's only if I choose to take that phrase literally. I reserve the right to believe that.

Andy Scott

Tattoo This! #4

I think I'm ready to unveil the tattoo I am contemplating to get drawn over the entirety of my back.

Yesterday I strolled over to the tattoo parlour and began describing the design I wanted by using some broken Mandarin, hand gestures and a series of rudimentary grunts. It worked, although once again we had troubles finding an image. You may think that because there's been so much issue with finding my design that it must be fairly complicated. Well, in fact the image I am looking for is of a mountain. How hard do think it would be to find a decent drawing of a mountain on the internet? Luckily the man knew of a site where a number of images on many subjects were collected. And we soon found one that took both our fancies. He is currently fixing it up to make it easier to tattoo. Though yesterday in the afternoon he sent me two pictures depicting his progress.



Here is the first image, he wiped out a bit of the sky so he could insert some clouds into the picture. The colour is still a bit off as I only want to get it done in black and white, with a bit of shading for effect. The next image is closer to my vision.



Colour is almost right, just needs to strengthen all the lines and get shades right and it'll be ready. I should be getting this done about Monday or Tuesday next week. Of course that all depends on how draining to my funds this will be. I'll give you an indicator. I got my first tattoo at the same parlour, it cost 500 yuan and took 2 and a half hours. It took so long because there was a lot of colouring to do. This new one is far, far, far bigger to say the least. But, with less colouring. I'm hoping I can haggle him down to 2000 at the most.

At this stage you may be wondering to yourself, a mountain! What the hell are you thinking, Andy? A notoriously lazy man with little to no interest in travel will tattoo an entire mountain on his back? The simple answer is, yes. A slightly less simple answer is that despite the multitude of atrocities mankind has done, I love this world. And can you think of anything natural in this world that is more majestic, more awe-inspiring than a mountain? The beach? I agree that from the coastline a beach is beautiful, it is relaxing, but it does not have the same effect on the mind. The ocean? Well, if you're out in the middle of one, all it is, is just water in the end. A forest or jungle? Same again, it is beautiful, but not inspiring. The truth is that anytime you see a large mountain, perhaps slightly covered by mist, the first reaction is 'wow!'

If I was forced to think of a more concrete answer, I could use symbology. The mountain is a symbol of goals. The higher the mountain, the loftier the goals. Having to work hard to reach them...blah, blah, blah. But, not everything needs to have meaning.

I also realize that this is a serious tattoo and may contradict with my clearly un-serious personality. But, you have to contemplate that I too have a serious side, sometimes I have thoughts that are not related to being a clown. Besides there are plenty of other spaces that I can get a humourous tattoo implanted onto. For example I'm still considering the 'rock + roll' design, if I can find the drawings.

Now I will sit and await the final design and then I'll give my verdict, hopefully a green light. Then I'll just have to endure one or two days of searing pain, but it'll be worth it. Now I just have to think of some legitimate reasons for having my shirt off more than usual so I can parade it around. There really aren't any are there?

Andy Scott

This Film Should Happen

The latest task I have given my students is to write a review about a book or film. Fairly straight forward, I tried getting them to use sentences other than 'This film is very good.' They also explain why, '...because it is very interesting.' I don't know about you, but I like to know more. Today one speech caught my egotistical eye. It seemed one boy started writing about 'Rush Hour', but got bored so used creative license to make the film better. I think I like his version better for reasons that will soon become apparent.

THE SPEECH:

I want to tell you about a film about Rush Hour. In this film the story is Jackie Chan and Mike fight murderers. and Andy is very strongest in this film. He fights the murderers is very easy. He is a superman in this film. He can carry up the buildings and he can fly. He likes helping everybody. Jackie Chan and him are friend. They fight murderers. Mike is also their friend.
The people in this film are very stronger, clever...
I think this film is very very very very very very very exciting.
Because Andy is very stronger. Andy is a very strong superman. He can fight murderers and carry up the buildings.

Well, I don't know if you can award a mark higher than A+, but if I could that's what it would get. I can look past any grammatical mistakes should the circumstances call for it. Brett Ratner if you are reading, I am available for Rush Hour 3. I like the idea of being able to carry buildings, it would be a big promotion from just plain shop lifting. *ba doom*

Andy Scott

Lost In Translation

When will people learn that if they are going to create a translation for something, they should hire a professional translator to ensure that the meaning is translated correctly. Asians seem to bear the full brunt of the mockery with their unfortunate English menu's, signs and clothing.

One of the funniest ones I have seen is of a warning sign at the side of a cliff which tells it's visitors to 'Please fall carefully.' For an encyclopedia of famous English mis-translations go to www.engrish.com.

Though it is not a one sided thing here, there are also many mess ups when we native English speakers try using Chinese or Japanese characters, mainly for tattoos. Having one myself I checked it again and again to make sure it had the correct meaning that I was trying to achieve. So, I'm not worried about mine. But there are many people out there that have something very tragic tattooed onto their skin. Here's a site where you can check that out www.hanzismatter.com

I mean it's only a few extra dollars to try and get a second opinion to whether you have the correct phrase translated or not. Don't use the internet and/or dictionaries to get the job done for free. Just don't...*shakes head*. Then again if they did that we couldn't have a hearty laugh at their expense.

Does anyone know of any other sites for other languages that are mis-translated? Hook us up here.

Andy Scott

Tattoo This! #3

If I wasn't in fear of becoming balder I would be tearing my hair out right now. I can't even begin to verbally describe how useless the internet is. I have had two new ideas and I have spent approximately 8 hours searching for drawings, etchings and sketches that I could use to at least make an initial design of them.

The first is an idea that Yazz and I stumbled across during our regular msn babble. Since I couldn't find ANY pictures, I'll just have to describe it.

Picture of a rock + picture of bread roll = cornuto (devil's horns hand gesture)

Here is the sole image I found of the cornuto that works. Yet for some insane reason I cannot find a picture of a rock or a bread roll. So, this idea could quickly die as I do not wish to go delirious clicking every single site on the net in search for them.

The second idea I will keep under my hat for the moment, because describing it you might say it wouldn't suit me. Yet I had exactly the same issue finding a picture for this one too! Bloody useless internet. Suffice to say if I do find the perfect image for this one it is going to be a challenge and it will take up the entirety of my back. That's right, I'm going for the big one!

Tomorrow I have a fairly free day so I'm going to mosey down to the tattoo emporium and browse through the tattoos they already have to offer. Who know, I might get lucky.

Andy Scott

Tattoo This! #2

I have managed to aquire a working version of Adobe Photoshop and I've been messing around with it in between classes. So far I have created three tentative designs, but I can't help feeling that there is something lacking in each of them. That might just be the perfectionist is me speaking. So, I thought I'd upload them so everyone else could have a look and throw in their ideas too.

AUSTRALIAN RELATED TATTOOS


I can think of a few reasons to get a tattoo proclaiming my Aussieness. It covers the basic patriotism, so I may never be questioned of that again. Not that I've been questioned about it before. Also if I continue globetrotting it can assist others into realizing that I'm not from the U.S. Personally I have nothing against U.S.Anians, but quite a few people out there do. And it seems that the natural conclusion is that any white person speaking English is from there. Australians on the other hand are quite popular in the world, so it may result in a free beer or two.


This second one reinforces my first points as well as it being humourous to boot.


Here I took a picture of one of Dimebag Darrel's famous guitars and converted it into a dualing guitars symbol. And underneath one of my main philosophies on life.

I like all three of them, but I'm not sure if I like any of them enough to get them permanently attached to my skin. A friend, Liz, suggested I get two gun triggers tattooed onto my forearms, this is to reinstate the fact that my arms are guns. hardy har har. I'm going to keep slaving away in front of photoshop, see what else I can come up with. I'd love to hear some feedback on the ones I've done so far though.

Andy Scott

Tattoo This!

So, I've been thinking about how to splurge a little with my upcoming paycheck. And I've found that I'm the mood to get another tattoo. Most likely on the other arm. Yet, I'm having trouble thinking of what to get. I wouldn't get something just for the sake of getting one. If anyone has an idea, no matter how crazy, let me know. Shortest...post...ever! So to fill up space here's a picture I stumbled across that I enjoyed.



The real gold at the end of the rainbow.

Andy Scott

Now I've Seen It All.

At a recently excavated site a number of items were unearthed, none more important than an ancient scrap of parchment. It was quickly carbon dated and the group of scientists that made the discovery announced it as being over three thousand years old. Remarkably a group of cryptologists managed to decipher what was inscribed on the scroll. It was evidence of mankind's earliest attempt at philosophy, amazingly it gave a highly accurate conclusion to why we're really here. So, what did the parchment say, you ask? Well...nothing, parchments can't talk.

Longest build up to a piss poor punchline I have ever made. I don't care. This site has been far too serious as of late and I felt that it's time to post about some of the lighter things that happen around here. Before I get started please be kind to remember that I really did try to have a good time today.

I spent the morning working off my hamburger overdose from the previous evening. Friday's are routinely becoming Macca's day, the one night I let loose and don't worry about my diet. I then spoke with Kari who shrugged off my idea to go bowling, and suggested we go to the local park, which had a few amusement rides. Yet, I've always felt that 'Chinese amusement rides' to be one of the more amusing oxymorons I've come across. Mainly because of the Chinese philosophy of rarely maintaining the upkeep of buildings or contraptions and only replacing something once it is completely beyond repair.

Still we went and bravely buckled ourselves into a device I like to call 'The Blender.' There was a large column that connected to a circle of chairs, and the machine swung from one side to the other, chairs rotating at the same time. As we whirled round I begun to wonder several things, first instead of merely trimming the trees that were only inches away from our faces as we swung near them, why not just remove them from the vicinity entirely? Secondly, when we were completely at a ninety degree angle the one thing I did not wish to see is the very small, completely uncovered engine below. Thirdly, I did not wish to imagine what caused the loud bang and sudden jerk when we came down from that angle. I likened the whole experience to George Jetson on his malfunctioning treadmill, 'Jane! Get me off this crazy thing!

Thanks to my previously mentioned sensitive hamburger condition my stomach cursed my very name. Though, we still ventured onwards intent on finding the newest extreme sport we could fashion off to thrillseekers worldwide. On a smallish lake was something I had never seen before. People in bubbles. Workers blew up a man sized bubble, let a person inside and then pushed them out on the water. My mind immediately began contemplating the small things like 'won't water get through the air holes?' Stupid brain, you never learn, this is China! There was zero possibility of the occupant getting wet, because there were NO airholes. ha ha ha. All that kept the person alive was the fetid air that was originally blown inside and a thin piece of rope one of the workers held onto. They started dragging bubbles to the shore presumably after a certain amount of time, either that or when people started getting drowsy.



What afternoon at an amusement park would be complete without a trip to the roller disco? Sadly, mine wouldn't be. I tried stuffing my foot into their 'largest' size roller skates and subsequently realized that it was just a fool's whim. I took them back and said that they should provide larger skates, they looked at me empathetically as if I were a freak. So, I hulked my way over to a bench, sat down and prepared myself for the crowd that would soon surround me. There isn't much opportunity for the young people here to catch a foreigner off guard and since I couldn't go anywhere, they struck. We played a riveting game of 20 billion questions. I began to wish that I hadn't left my MP3 player at home. When my friends had finished, they broke up the crowd and I rushed for the hole in the group, destination: freedom.

We left the park and starting walking downtown towards home. A small group had gathered around something, which either meant one of two things. Someone had an accident and everyone wanted to look or there was some form of entertainment. If I hadn't been off alcohol for the last two weeks I would swear I had the DT's. In the centre of the circle was a Chinese man, nothing special there. But, racing circles around him was a monkey, on a child's bicycle. It was without a doubt one of the most awesome things I had ever seen. How can a monkey ride a bicycle? It warps the mind! I stood mesmerized for a few minutes until my Western upbringing made me conclude that it was probably a bit cruel. Cruelness aside though, I could have stared at that monkey all damn day. I mean, it's a monkey...on a bike! I cannot stress that point enough.



I'm not sure what is happening in my life right now, it's obviously some sort of transition. Needless to say that my views have been veering towards the negative, which has never been my intent in life. So, today I'm glad I could post something that on face value is positive, but with a completely obvious negative undertone. But, I think today I had some pretty genuine reasons to have some negative thoughts. Why am I trying to explain myself...? I must feel guilty about something. Seriously though, in the last few days I have actually felt excited about being alive and it's been a long time since I've felt that good. If this were a film, Sam Cooke's 'A Change is Gonna Come' would gradually increase in volume as the camera zooms out slowly through the top of my ceiling, gradually getting higher until it is a just a topographical portrayal of Jingmen from above. Too bad real life doesn't end so neatly.

Andy Scott

Pictures by Kari Krugg

The End Of The Beginning

I'm not surprised that the first month is over, it was inevitable with time being linear and all. Even the speed at which time travels now is not shocking in the least. But, it is amazing how little you can get done in the first month. I think the main cause of that would be that we foreign teachers are always paid monthly and I had a certain budget to keep to until I get my first pay. Which will be some time next week.

Getting used to a spasmodic schedule does also seem to be taking it's time. We only consider ourselves working if we're in the classroom, once that class is over it's free time to do whatever. Which is fantastic in most aspects bar one. Doing one class, having a three hour break, doing three more classes, break, English corner and then home. You build yourself up to do the work and then you relax, work yourself up and relax. Our energy levels go up and down more than a kangaroo on a pogo stick. By the end of the week I am almost in liquid form in regards to my tiredness. Would I prefer having all my classes in a row early in the morning? You bet! Get it all over and done with and have the entire afternoon off, sounds like bliss.

Mostly it is a particularly easy job, once you're used to it. You're standing up for 45 minutes constantly talking, not only that, but you have to act as a warden as well, keeping the prisoners in line until they've carried out their sentence. Wow, I just missed a perfect opportunity to make a pun about sentences in an English class, I must be slipping. Anyways, it can be mentally draining being in charge of 60-odd young teens who have so much energy they are almost bouncing off the walls. We manage though.

I'm pleased with the work I've done so far though, both in and out of the classroom. I've almost managed to keep this site to one post a day, a good start. I also feel that my lessons are interesting and the students are already improving. At the end of this year the students fill out evaluation forms about their teachers, if a teacher receives 80% of positive remarks then they are awarded a certificate acknowledging that they are a fine teacher. We never had opportunities like that at my old school, they kept us separate from all school activities and accolades as much as possible. So, this could be interesting. I wouldn't object to getting an award, it's always nice to know that you're appreciated. Guess I'll just have to keep up the good work.

Andy Scott

Soul Destroying Rage.

There was a time when I had a lot of anger within me. As with most teens I was preoccupied with what others thought of me. The one prospect I could not handle was that of a person not taking a liking to me. Sometimes I went out of my way to make sure this goal was achieved. Luckily, I didn't feel the need to have many friends. But, to the ones I held close I often projected all the mannerisms of a mentally healthy, jovial young teen. There were times though when I reached breaking point and I could not hold all the rage inside anymore. Those who witnessed it could attest to my sudden change in personality.

The anger often manifested itself through one of my talents. I am exceptionally good at reading people. Even just monitoring a person from a distance I can tell what that person is really like. Talking to them I can get a far more accurate idea of the person. I can see a persons strengths as clear as day and unfortunately I can see their weaknesses too. But, I don't judge, I choose friends and associates for their strong points. But, if I meet a new person and can tell that they are no good for me, I don't develop that relationship. And if I am in a particularly foul mood I can hone in on a persons weakness and basically make them feel like crap. Not something to be proud of, but you can't change the past.

Emotionally speaking, coming to China was a great help in regulating my rage. Mainly because of my students. I won't lie, there are times when I literally feel like taking a blunt object and just going nuts on one of them. I thank them for that. Because now I can control the rage and can express myself in a non-violent manner. Take yesterday for example, I gave my students a speaking test. I explained to them during the last lesson what would happen and told them to prepare for it. Each group had something prepared, but none of the groups followed the rules precisely. The most important one being that everyone in the group should speak. Over the period of the class I felt myself slowly filling up with rage, mainly because of the people in the audience.

Chinese people have a different method for dealing with boredom, though I can only compare it to how things are done in Australia. Here in China, if someone is giving a speech or they're having a meeting, the moment the audience beginto feel boredom creep into their minds they begin to talk. It's not a whisper either, it's a full blown, loud conversation. This makes it difficult to hear the main speaker. Well that's what it's like in the classroom. The other students don't care what the speaking group has to say, so they turn around and start speaking with their neighbour. For the person who is marking the group on their speaking ability it is always a test for themselves to keep calm.

Students would even walk over to me during the test and ask me questions, to which I would ignore them and wait for them to leave. That usually took a minute during which they would say things like 'Hello? Hello? Why don't you talk to me? Hello?' I mean seriously, take a hint! After the eight groups were finished I walked to the front of the room, everything that could be clenched did so in an intimidating way.
I paused for a moment thinking 'what would shouting achieve?' Nothing.

So, I started breathing deeply and explained my thoughts to them in a calm and collected manner. That I was happy about the speeches themselves, but certain other things had not been achieved. I told them what they could do to make sure to do better next time. I didn't want them to feel bad for one of our major cultural differences, but they HAD to understand the manners I expected when I was in their classroom. In the end it wasn't about manners, it wasn't about different cultures. Because no matter where you come from you want respect. The problem is most people know how to receive, but don't know how to send. And that includes Western countries too, probably more-so. And respect is shown by trying to look interested in what another person is saying, at the very least keeping silent.

It felt very good to let that out, it was productive. I didn't bottle up the rage and I made my point clearly. I know that by next lesson they'll have forgotten everything I complained about, but it's a start. Hopefully something I preach will stick in their heads, if not, it's no skin off my neck. At least I'm trying to make a difference in their life and mine.

Andy Scott

The Universe Is Against Me.

Do you believe in fate? In most cases I don't like to dabble in that belief. But, sometimes there are events that just seem too coincidental to have been free will. Let me give an example. Say you've been on the phone all morning trying to reach someone to inform them of something vital, but you can't get through. So, you go out only to bump into that same person in the street. I can't remember this happening to me, but this is the kind of coincidence I am referring to.

I am of the belief that when we're born, we're pushed in one direction and then it is our choice whether we continue that way or not. Every decision we make has a counter decision we didn't make in this reality. But, perhaps in an alternate reality we did just the opposite. Even the most insignificant of choices can make a difference, like whether you choose chocolate or vanilla ice cream. Which would therefore mean that there are an infinite amount of realities out there and a different version of us in every one of them, a person who up to a point was exactly the same, but then made one decision and that's where the similarities end. Red Dwarf viewers will of course be familiar with this concept.

And I think we can pay for our choices too. What if I made a choice that really pissed off the universe? What would the repercussions be? Well whatever the powers may be, they certainly have control over the physical side of everything. The mind is yours and yours alone, nothing can harm that. Of course there are physiological problems that we can contract, but that effects the brain, not the mind. Think of it like a mental prison, the mind is working perfectly, but the brain is somehow afflicted. And with the physical problems I've been having I begin to wonder whether I have done something wrong, something the universe doesn't fancy.

If I explained one of my physical problems you would say 'well, you brought that upon yourself.' Fine, that is logical, I would do the same thing. But, when I look at all my problems as a whole, then it starts to smell a bit fishy. Perhaps a small list, remember to take into account that I am only 22. First, my liver. Now I do admit that I have drunk a lot since I started consuming alcohol at 16. But, there are others out there who have imbibed far more than I have. You might say my genes are my problem, well if you had encountered the members of my family who also enjoyed drinking then you would be inclined to disagree. My theory on this one is that whatever controls the physical side of the universe decided that for whatever I did wrong it would punish me by taking away one of my few pleasures, drinking. Paranoid delusions? Maybe, but let's continue...

My stomach, combined with my liver the only way I can get healthy now is if I eat a stable diet. Those who know me well will tell you that I actually eat very little, I rarely eat snacks and do enough exercise to burn of any fat I may have. Yet, for some reason I am overweight and if I want to be healthy I should not eat oily food or dairy products. Cheese was another one of few pleasures.

Exercise is now what I must do if I want to get back to a 'normal' regime. Yet, for years now I have had bad heels thanks to a previous job I held. Making any exercise that involves, say moving my feet a lot of trouble after a while. So, if my theory is correct not only did the powers make it so it was easy for me to be unhealthy, they also made it so that it would difficult for me to become healthy again. Very spiteful.

Then just to be cruel, they make me the first person in my family's history to start going bald. Why? Because I like long hair and long hair looks foolish should you be bald on top and thinning heavily on the front. How many people at the age of 22 do you know that have ALL of these physical problems? Apart from addicts or seriously diseased people. And I am neither of those. Still think paranoia is the case?

I can produce no evidence of course. Unless you firmly believe in palm reading that is. One thing that is true is that the lines on your hand do change over the course of your life. The belief, at least in Western culture is that your left hand reveals the path you are meant to lead and the right hand show the path are you are currently on. For most people the two hands look identical in every way. Well, mine aren't.



This is a picture of my left hand, I had to draw in the lines, because they did not show up so well using my low-quality webcam. Now compare it with my right hand.



If this belief is true then I am currently living a life that is far different to the life that I was meant to. Somewhere along the lines I made some decisions that altered my life drastically. So, because the universe can do nothing to my mind, it will take it out on my body. I really am not looking forward to what I will be like if I even make it to 50. I'll probably be blind, deaf, bound to a wheelchair with a disease that is painful, yet not deadly. Because the powers won't let me die easily, oh no no, I will not get cancer or AIDS or some other incurable and deadly disease. It will be slow and annoying. It is also the reason I will continue smoking, the only way the world could stop me from doing that is some form of cancer and if my theory is correct then I won't be getting that.

OR...perhaps I'm just really angry that I can't do all the things I would like to be doing right now thanks to our weak and fragile designs. It may just be the bitterness. If you haven't got all the perks of living, why bother doing all the dull, dreary stuff? The only consolence I think of is that in some alternate universe out there, there must be a version of myself that has it far worse. So, I will sit in silent satisfaction at that prospect. It's a small win, but a win nonetheless. And you have to make every win count. SCREW YOU UNIVERSE!!

Andy Scott

MIA

I ventured back to Guanghua on Sunday, mainly because there were some things I wanted to get from my old apartment. Unfortunately the new occupant Graham was out of town for the day. I don't consider it a major disaster though, because I still got to meet with some old friends. Also I discovered that my favourite Guanghua restaurant Di Hao had just started serving hamburgers. Real hamburgers. They even make the bread themselves so it's not even slightly sweet. Momentarily in heaven.

The road to health is a long one and there isn't any public transport to help you get there faster. Well, apart from the bus that goes to liposuctown. But, I decided long ago that wasn't the best route, tempting as it may be. he he. Alcohol intake is down to zero and the weight is slowly disappearing. My goal is to be healthy by the Christmas party. All the expats in the Jingmen area get together for one colossal piss-up. Besides getting drunk at Christmas and New Years is a bit of a tradition now. I don't have too many traditions in my life, so the ones I do have I like to honour.

Yesterday as we were waiting for English corner to begin I saw several students gathering around something. I looked closer and saw that they were closing in on a bird that had obviously broken it's wing. Quite a lot of Chinese, especially children are quite cruel to animals. The kids think it is a fun game to torture the animals. I had a vision of what the next few minutes for that bird might consist of. So, I went over and scooped it up before it could attain any further damage.

I walked off with a student who actually liked animals. Said she had three crabs at home, but still wasn't sure what they ate. I admitted that was something I had never thought about and had no idea. I was hoping that there would be a vet around somewhere, but no one knew of one and time was pressing as English corner was about to begin. So, we took the bird to the bushes and let it go. It won't be able to fly, but at least it can still walk around. Wasn't any more we could do, unfortunately.

And that's it. Yet, it's not like I go out everywhere day looking for exciting things to happen just so I have something to write about. I just felt that two days with nothing was inexcusable since I'm trying to improve my writing ability. As I tell my students 'you have to practice everyday if you want to get better.' Better start acting on my own advice.

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 10. Parody of Song

As I previously stated the tenth and final poem in our repertoire would be a parody of a song. I soon discovered it is far easier to write an original tune than to rewrite the lyrics of a previously penned work. But, the beauty of this kind of parody if it can be achieved is that the music is already established. People can recognize the song and know how the words should be sung. It means we don't have to write the lyrics, record some music and upload it for everyone to listen to. All you have to do is find a copy of the song I am parodying and sing my words over the top. A karaoke version would of course work much more effectively.

So, with out further ado I present to you my parody of one of, if not the greatest hard rock songs ever written, Smoke On The Water by Deep Purple. A song I was fortunate enough to witness live just a few months ago. So, get out your Machine Head album, greatest hits anthology or downloaded copy and sing along to...


Don't Smoke Near The Waiter
Lyrics: An Hai Dao - Music: Deep Purple

We all went out for dinner, one thing on our mind.
To eat food with a vengeance, at any place we'd find.
But, every joint rejected us, we didn't know the reason why,
Until an honest waiter approached us, said he didn't want to die.

Don't smoke near the waiter, he don't want to die,
Don't smoke near the waiter.

We were shocked by his candor, understood his plight.
So, we stomped out our cigars, didn't want to fight.
But, later on that evening, we lit up a cigarette,
Waiter came and told us off, filled us with regret.

Don't smoke near the waiter, he don't want to die,
Don't smoke near the waiter.

We took a look at the other employees, they were angry, enraged and bare.
Forced to pay our bill and tip them off to avoid their piercing stare.
A new group arrived, we knew their type, stopped them in their tracks.
Spoke clear to them, said if they ignite, they should...they should watch their backs.

Don't smoke near the waiter, he don't want to die,
Don't smoke near the waiter.

Parting is such sweet sorrow and it's time for this war to end. I'm looking forward now to see what Tamara comes up with. And for the moment I want nothing to do with poetry whatsoever, for a while at least. We're already thinking of other forms of writing that we can use to battle it out over the internet. Should anyone out there wish to participate, you are more than welcome. "There's more than one way to skin a cat", they say. Why or how they know that isn't important, the message is clear. Don't get trapped by routine doing the same things all the time, experiment, discover for yourself what a truly diverse and ever changing world we are forced to live in. It gets me through.

Andy Scott

The World Needs A Hero (How right you are Mr. Mustaine.)

A few days ago, Tamara and I agreed that for our last poem we would take a song we each liked and change the words completely. I sat down and began dissecting some of my favourite songs and ended up choosing Dire Straits 'Romeo & Juliet', for it's slow but original rhythm. I wanted to write about how their were no heroes today. Everyone is too wrapped up in trying to be cool or funny that there's no time left to try and be some ones role model. Yet, in the golden days of rock there were countless heroes, just in the musical field. Countless more in other areas. Megadeth released their 2004 album 'The World Needs A Hero', speaking exactly about this problem.

For us rockers and metal heads, there was the vocal stylings of people like Robert Plant, Ian Gillan, Ozzy Osbourne, Ronnie James Dio, Steve Tyler, Bon Scott, Paul Stanley, David Lee Roth and many more.

I think most importantly everyone loved a great guitarist and back then you couldn't throw a rock without hitting a fantastic guitarist. Guys like Pete Townshend, Tony Iommi, Ritchie Blackmore, Jimmy Page, Eddie Van Halen, Randy Rhoads, Jimi Hendrix, Angus Young. Mainly anyone who held within their grasp an electric guitar during that period.

So, for me those are the kind of people that I admire, but I wish I could have admired them in their heyday. That's what I wanted to write about, but I soon realized that nothing I could write would top other songs on the same topic, such as Bob Seger's 'Old Time Rock n' Roll.' So, I scrapped it.

That's not to say there aren't more recent talented musicians, it's just there's no one you can really admire amongst today's music institute. After the tragic death of Dimebag Darrell, Zakk Wylde may be the last hero of rock. It's very sad.

I don't have a lot of contact with people in the age bracket below me, 13-18 year olds. But, from what I've seen they are a truly cynical bunch. Many of them seem to believe in very little and have so much rage. It might have something to do with today's music styles. I've never been what you'd call a huge fan of rap or hip-hop or whatever you call it. But, I've yet to see one of today's living rap artists who could inspire someone for good. I think perhaps someone like Tupac clearly achieved that, the amount of people that still mourn his death his incredible. It's a shame that no one could follow in his footsteps. I don't care what genre it has to be, but there should be someone out there singing about how life isn't all that bad and don't throw yours away. I think this may be the first time in history where there isn't a single person that inspires us to do just that. All we can do is hope that this will change, because at the moment I only see people who are obsessed with popularity and are terribly self-centered.

So, what does this rant translate to? Well, it means that I didn't write a poem, pretty lame I know... But, I feel we've explored all we need to. We've achieved all we dreamed of achieving. Speaking for myself, the creativity is there, the imagination spewing ideas. I'm happy with all the works we did. In other words I'm ready to move on. Tamara, it's up to you whether you want to do a tenth one.

edit: She wants to do another one and convinced me to do the same. So, back to the old storyboard.

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 9. Ode

"So close, no matter how far..." Jimmy Hetfield leads us into this one, take a break Jimmy. When all is said and done I'd prefer to remember yesterday as a non-event, well in regards to this site.

An ode is lyrical in nature. One of the more famous pieces is 'Ode to Joy' by Friedrich Shiller, later turned into the fourth movement of Beethoven's ninth symphony and more recently the opening theme music for 'Everybody Loves Raymond.' That piece has sure been around. I love music, but that does not translate to having skill in crafting music. Should I try it would probably just have the same tune as 'Twinkle, twinkle, little star' or 'The Alphabet Song', they both have the same tune you know. Nevertheless I feel like singing, because things are beginning to go well now, it's all working out in my favour.

Ode To Things Working Out by An Hai Dao

Not so long ago,
things weren't going my way,
change came pretty slow.

It's not the same today,
for all that I have done,
those problems gone away.

It feels like I've won,
and it's about bloody time,
maybe now I can have some fun.

For a while it felt like a crime,
victory so close I could taste it,
So, here I sit and try to rhyme.

New life, comfy in my new home,
for a while, at least for now, no need to roam.

I'll stop there, because I tire of this game. This war is starting to take on all the characteristic of a chore. And I feel that it should never end up that way. It should be spur of the moment, it should be spontaneous creativity. Not trying to meet a deadline. Well, the good news is that there's only one more to do. Then we can put this non-violent, creative method of warfare behind us. Don't get me wrong though, in the long run it was highly enjoyable. Just not something I want to feel obligated to do.

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 8. Free Prose

I refuse to be behind, I will not go silently into the night. Here's NUMBER EIGHT!

Free Prose, the lazy person's poetic savior.

Close your eyes, picture yourself sitting in some seedy cafe in a basement somewhere. Pay attention to the aroma of coffee wofting in your nostrils. Your nose hairs wince ever so slightly at the highly roasted bean flavour attacking them. Look around you, note the other occupants, feel their angst, absorb their pain. A figure is sitting on stage partially hidden by an ancient microphone. He takes a drag of his cigarette and exhales. Examine his expression, one that tells a thousand terrible tales. Barely a whisper, he speaks...



"HI EVERYONE! ISN'T IT JUST A GLORIOUS DAY!" He said with pain in his eyes and anguish tearing at his soul. "HA HA! I HAVE COMPOS-ED A POEM. I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY IT!!" he continued barely able to keep himself from wailing in torment. He began to read, the brave soul...

Rainbow Flavoured Jelly Beans by An Hai Dao

See them run, see them hop,
tiny rabbits, ohh they bounce, ohh they leap,
wiggling their little nose, nibbling at a leaf,
whiskers waving in the wind as if saying 'hello',
I peer at the sky, not a cloud to be seen,
a seven coloured rainbow leading to a pot of dreams,
Racing, racing, quickly I must go,
it's a long way to the end, but laughing all the way,
HA HA HA TEE HEE HEE HO HO HO HE HE HE,
at the end what do I find, not gold, not silver, nor jewel,
but in my eyes and my heart's desire, a treasure all the same,
a chest full of beans, though not that of kidney or soy,
rainbow flavoured jelly beans, I can't believe my luck,
I share them with the rabbits and all from near and far,
the greatest gift that I can give is the gift of love,
So when you see a rainbow, with haste get up and run,
you never know what you might find when YOU reach the end.

This is usually when my alarm clock rings and I scream in agony. Followed by a shower, but that's of no use, you can't wash off this kind of dirt. I feel like watching an action film of some description, just to bring back some of that oh so sweet, sweet violence. I'm off now to do manly stuff, I may even spit if the moment arrives.

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 7. Villanelle

A fountain of creativity this morning I find. Perhaps it is to do with the fact that Tamara and I agreed to finish this at Number 10. A nice round number, but it isn't yet in sight.

Now for the Villanelle, Yazz mentioned 'scraping the bottom of the barrel' and I would have to agree that it is indeed reaching that point. Of French origin the Villa...blah blah blah. Just read the damn poem!

Get Them Through The Day by An Hai Dao

Find the perfect way,
A method I can teach,
Get them through the day.

The game they learn to play,
Help them find their niche,
Find the perfect way.

Let them have their say,
Truth is in their reach,
Get them through the day.

Mold them as you would clay,
Try not to nag and preach,
Find the perfect way.

Attention they will pay,
A knowledge sucking leech,
Get them through the day.

Treat them well, okay?
They’re as sweet as a peach,
Find the perfect way,
Get them through the day.

When I'm in a good mood that is how I feel about being a teacher. I wonder what it would have looked like if I was in a bad mood. Well I have approximately 6 hours of classroom time today, so I may very well find out once that is over. Speaking of things being over, this war isn't...yet. I guess it's time for the final three. And then it's back to me posting things about life in China. Is that something to look forward to? I would understand entirely if you don't come back here. Off to class!

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 6. Martian Poetry

All right, all right...so now it looks like I'm just getting lazy. Don't see why that should surprise people now, I've always been lazy. So, it's Martian Poetry for me. Apparently this kind of poem is the most popular kind amongst children and possibly real Martians, who I imagine don't like being patronized so much. Tough, you dumb alien bastards, what are you going to do about it?

*BIZZZZAP*

I 'Andy' Will Now Proceed To Type Words On Screen In A Way That You Stupid Humans Will Comprehend. Brace Yourself For Painfully Receptive Satire Of One Of Your Earth's Objects. Tremble In Fear As I Commit To Text A Poem Of Awesome Power. If Your Puny Earth Brain Remains Intact It Will Be A Miracle. All Hail The Queen Of Mars!!

Device That Turns Day To Night by Human #5,789,323,978 AKA Andy Scott

One solar day when propelling myself forward,
I found something that provoked curiosity.
A device of unimaginable power,
that it could blacken the light all around.

I reached for one carefully,
and attached it to myself.
All of a sudden the light was gone,
you can imagine the panic.

'Ingenious' thought I as I looked around,
think of the possibilities!
These 'Earth' folk are not aware,
and distribute them quite freely.

The power to block out the yellow ball of gas and fire,
here within my grasp.
Think of the chaos and mayhem,
that I could achieve with this!

People thinking day is night,
schedules coming undone.
Now, if there was only a way to reverse it,
so that the opposite effect was achieved.

What's this? People have them on everywhere,
yet they don't seem confused.
Humans are more powerful than we thought,
better hold off the war.

For those of you who don't know what it was, I can hardly give one more clue. A pair of sunglasses, but I'm sure you already knew. It's time for me to leave right now, to prepare for the bright, new day. When will this battle of words end?

Andy Scott

More Than Meets The Eye!

There a few films every year that I just get really excited about. Being a comic book geek as a kid ensures that any time a superhero film is released I'm there. And with the latest computer technology any concept is now possible to be turned into a film. Next year has what I like to think will be the ultimate superhero series.

TRANSFORMERS

I don't mind knowing a little about films before they are realeased. I like to have a basic idea of what I'm getting into. And if there is any action concept greater than robots that can turn into some sort of vehicle, tell me straight away. If you've been trying to avoid concept art you should probably not look below.

Optimus Prime concept art

Look at that and tell me it's not going be a fun film! I simply cannot wait, but I must until the 4th of July, 2007. Until then I'm going to break out the tv series on DVD and watch it until my eyes bleed. "Autobots, transform and roll out!"

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 5. Limerick

It appears I am falling behind in this battle. So, instead of wasting more time trying to discover some obscure poetic device, I'm going to pull out the big guns. I'm sure everyone is familiar with the Limerick. A short, humourous five lined semi-song. Usually containing words of an adult nature, well at least the popular ones do. They follow an A-A-B-B-A rhyming scheme. I'll keep mine to a G rating, because you never know who might be reading, THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!

I don't think many limericks have utilized Chinese cities, it's a crime as the rhyming possibilities are infinite. Their loss becomes my gain, onwards!!

Limericks Ahoy!

Lad From Jingmen

There once was a lad from Jingmen,
who failed school again and again.
His parents and teachers,
all acted like preachers,
until he passed, amen!

Girl from Wuhan

There once was girl from Wuhan,
who acted like she was raised in a barn.
She ate with an awful noise,
frightened all the boys,
but she didn't give a darn.

Man from Beijing

There once was man from Beijing,
he always liked to sing.
But when he began,
people turned and ran,
though he still felt like a king.

Woman from Guanghua

There once was a woman from Guanghua,
who wished upon a star.
It fell from the sky,
but she didn't die,
Though now she can't go too far.

Man named Yazz

There once was a man named Yazz,
upon meeting I thought was a spaz.
After some time,
he's my partner in crime,
but he's still a major spaz.

(Use of spaz twice is significant because of extreme spazzyness of Yazz.)

Man named Andy

There once was a man named Andy,
with words he was quite handy.
But if you ask him to work,
he'll call you a jerk,
then finish off his brandy.

Woman named Tamara

There once was woman named Tamara,
she captured the world with her camera.
She wanted much more,
so we started this war,
when we should have just gone to a bar-a.

Okay that last one was a looong shot, but we'll all live through it. I like that style best so far, it just flows off the tongue and no I don't mean it's like saliva. Obviously I'll have to post more today if I want to catch up to Tamara who is at this point one ahead, damn her creativity. Stay tuned!

Andy Scott

Shrinking?

I just happened to take another look at my medical report and noticed something interesting. Apparently my height was recorded as 174cm. At first glance I didn't pay much attention to it. But, then I realized that 174cm equals 5 foot 8 inches. Last time I remember checking my height I was 5 foot 11...

So, either they made a mistake in their measurements or I am in fact getting shorter. I hope that is not the case. But, what are the chances they would make a mistake with something as simple as measuring someone's height? Pretty slim.

This is going to plague my thoughts. I need to go out and buy a tape measure.

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 4. Acrostic

Hail the new day, cheer up sky, you look a bit grey. I now move on to the fourth round of this endeavor. Something that Tamara in a blur of creativity finished yesterday. I however was occupied till 11pm stuffing my face and watching others drink themselves stupid, lucky bastards.

Though I would like to make an attempt at 'Martian Poetry' as Tamara did. I thought I should try something different so that we may portray as many poetic possibilities as we can. Today is the 'Acrostic.' In this style you can write in free verse, but if you read only the first letters vertically you will find a not-so-secret message.

Here is a famous example of a gravestone where the inscription is made using Acrostic. Can you see what John's friends really thought of him?



Now for my attempt:

My One Thought by An Hai Dao

Wielding nothing worth mentioning
Escaping mediocrity at a snail's pace
Aiming at a future blindfolded
Reaching no concrete conclusion
Everyday striving
Eventually no more time
Vices join forces, destruction in mind
Entering all nooks and crannies of my psyche
Never mind, soon they will find
That all their attempts are futile
Asking the fates what is their game?
Marching intently onwards
Arrival point not outlined by light
Reaching around in darkness
Achieving much on the way, content I sigh and rest...

Technically that would make two thoughts, but only one is on my mind and only I know for certain. Right, that's all for now, I have lesson plans to create.

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 3. Haiku

Time to be spontaneous! As absurd as the idea is, here is a second post for the Poem Wars today. The challenge was made that I had not yet successfully tackled a piece of Haiku. I thought it might be more appropriate if I tried the Chinese form of Jintishi, but after discovering I'd have to write in Chinese characters I considered that idea defeated. So, onto the more English-friendly style of Haiku. I'm not sure if there are strict rules apart from the 5-7-5 method. So, some avid Haiku enthusiast stumbling on this page may be confronted with what they could only describe as 'blasphemy!'

Haiku Schn-aiku

Number 1.

Roars of chorus sound,
stampeding around the grounds,
no class for students.

Number 2.

Smells emanating,
origins well known to me,
time to take out trash.

Number 3.

Cold is settling in,
enthusiastic winds blow,
Autumn has arrived.

Number 4.

Scattered clothes around,
unorganised use of space,
when can I unpack?

Number 5.

Getting worried now,
almost down to my last one,
need to buy more smokes.

Five should do, five is more than enough. I can see how this style could easily be transferred into real conversation. 'How are you today?' I am feeling very good, thanks.' 'Let's get out of here.' Those who have seen 'Bulworth' will know the consequences of speaking solely in poetic form. Entertaining is it may be.

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 2. Alliteration

I sat staring intensely at my computer screen yesterday with full intent of an update. Yet, several factors ensured that was not to be. For one, two more expats arrived yesterday, so I spent most of the day with them. I also just completed a 7 day work week and was understandably tired. And finally, I was researching poetic forms and devices on Wikipedia, and with the Wiki you can never just have one article, you want more. I hadn't noticed that several hours had passed and it was already very early on Saturday.

No more excuses, on with the show. Today I want to mess around with alliteration. It is not a style of poem, but a device within poems, particularly prose. Repetition of first letters is its motif, it does like to repeat on itself. For example:

Sixty-seven sailors sway suspiciously, subtly smoking something...

If you have seen V for Vendetta you might remember full well the speech V gave when he introduced himself to Natalie Portman's character using words starting with the letter 'V'. That was kind of impressive, to say the least.

Andy's attempt at alliteration - Author An Hai Dao

Alarming acrimonious aptitude,
achievement allowing apathy.

Begetted by blistering boredom,
bewildered boasts of being better.

Can't conceal cares convincingly,
carefully correcting created conditions.

Duped delusions daring deliverance,
dancing devoted delirious dope.

Envisioned excellence enters existence,
enveloped entirely excrement ensues.

Feeling frank, falling fast, finding freedom fallacious,
fears fermented foolishly feeding the fire.

Gracefully greeting grandeur,
glancing, gasping, going great.

Hurriedly harking halfway,
henceforth hoping here halts.

Imagining inconsistent irregularity,
imposing instant impartial interference.

Just jesting, japing, joking, jivin',
TIME TO END THIS THING RIGHT NOW!!

Oh man! I tried finishing that thing off several letters back, but it just goes on and on. Finally finished and feeling free...AAAHHH!! It's addictive. I'm getting out of here...

Andy Scott

Poem Wars - 1. The Sonnet

A challenge has been issued. You weren't there, so it might come as some surprise. Don't be shocked, you don't know everything. A joining of the mind between myself and Tamara revealed that ideas for writing may be suffering a mental drought. So, perhaps some kind of gimmick would be in order to persuade the brain storms to return. Poetry, language of the soul they say. Who are 'they'? Probably a poet. The rest of us know that poems are made by people who don't like to simplify things. Stories make sense, because we write them in the same method that we'd speak them. But, is there a single soul out there who speaks in rhyme or a specific amount of syllables? Nevertheless, poetry is the gimmick we need to bridge the gap between far off ideas.

I thought I would begin with perhaps one of the more simplistic of forms, the sonnet. Some art student just gasped in horror. 'Art is never simple.' Well, I beg to differ, but t'would I not use the correct scale, iambic pentameter be damned! Since many-a sonnet was written as one person longing for another, I'll keep it to that theme and write about beer.

Love Is Now A Dusty, Soulless Pitcher by An Hai Dao

Now that you are gone I'm in disarray,
large boots to fill your replacement can see.
Had I taken more care you could eas'ly stay,
now all I have is soft drink, juice or tea.

Great times we achieved through blood, sweat and grit,
inseparable were we in the past.
Looking back now it is hard to admit,
you aided my downfall, man it was fast.

Now forced to a life of healthy regime,
nightmare born to truth, O my greatest fear.
Choices just two, logical it would seem,
to die is to live with absence of beer.

Melodramatic my thoughts are of late,
Surely one more can't hurt, dare I tempt fate?

Heeeey! Not too shabby. Visit Tamara's site which is linked on the side to see how this rhythmic war concludes, possibly in a week if we can keep it up.

Andy Scott

Keeping The Facade Alive

I've been constantly feeling lethargic for about the last...22 years or so. So, there's a history of it. Having all these classes, plus a liver condition and also just general everyday laziness, I find myself always in a state of 'WANT SLEEP.' If I'm in my apartment that's when I let every muscle in my body relax. That's right all three of them, I've been working on a fourth lately. But, if I'm in the public eye I have to always be pleasant and smiling, that's just what foreigner does in the Chinese laws of life.

Should someone be friendly in my general direction, I must return the favour. Then there's the students. I'm of the belief that the more interesting you appear, the more they will pay attention. It seems to work. I like to exaggerate scenarios in my head, so I have this image of myself as an academic savior.

Picture a classroom full of students, their science/math/whatever teacher is standing at the front explaining an advanced piece of information. The students are all looking at the teacher, their eyes glazed over. Their brains have switched off all unnecessary functions except the memory centre, which is storing all the info. The most noticeable sound is coming from the clock that makes a deafening ticking sound as each second passes. The bell rings, students slowly emerge from their trance. Then the bright light envelops the room, smoke starts appearing from nowhere. A repetitive yet catchy drum beat begins to sound *DOOM* *DOOM* *DOOM* Birds fly out of the rooms every orifice, circle the ceiling for a few circuits and then leave. An electric guitar wails and you can hear the low rumbling of what seems like an animal, yet it has a more mechanical feel to it. Barely seen through the light, the motorbike tears down the verandah and stops in front of the classroom. I casually walk into the room, nod slightly at the students and take my place at the front of the class.

Clearly I have a lot of time to fantasize. But, this imagery isn't too far from the truth. The idea that mine may be their one and only class where they can relax and have fun is an exciting prospect. The only trouble is that it completely wears me out giving the impression that I'm energetic and always in a good mood. But, I'm back home now and I don't have to be pleasant to anyone. So, thank you for reading and kindly piss off. That felt gooood.

Andy Scott

The Lack Of Imagination Is A Terrible Thing

I have an introductory course to English I like to follow with new groups of students. It involves trying to coerce them into being bolder and more productive in their English studies. Most of the time the results range from the extremely average to the shockingingly dull. I don't expect wonders early on, thus the low grading scheme. I'm easy to please as a teacher.

But, there are some classes where it seems they have a collective imagination. Whilst they are excited to think of some ideas, they always end up with the same one. If, say I was planning on having the last fifteen minutes of class time dedicated to the students standing up and giving a performance, then I would see the same act several times. My excited remarks after each one obviously become less and less convincing.

My conclusion is, that because there is always one group that volunteers or are helped into volunteering, the rest of the class take notes and then copy them word for word. Do they think I'm blind? Or perhaps they hope I suddenly have a mental lapse and forget the last performance even happened. I often wonder what exactly the parents and teachers do to drain the imagination of these kids. At the age of thirteen you'd assume that they are overflowing with ideas. It's not like they're lacking the energy, they've always got surplus of that. Sometimes it's impossible to subdue the chatter, so what is it? I've seen some of the more artsy students get verbally crushed by parents who say that being an artist of any kind is a terrible prospect. I've yet to meet a single parent here who would be proud to be mother or father of a film maker, musician, painter or writer. No wonder that industry is noticeably bare.

About two years back I stopped giving my own examples of what they could do, because they inevitably always used my example as their own idea. I wouldn't mind if they expanded on it, but that never happens. The best I can do is to go into the classroom with complete apathy. That way if they impress me I'll be in a good mood. If they can't manage even the slightest bit of creativity then I'll be no less caring than when I first stepped into the room. It's a system that rarely fails.

Andy Scott

Autumn Just Whooped Summer's Arse

Got to love things that work like clockwork. The first few days that I was occupying this room, the sun was out with enthusiasm. It didn't just want to light the world, it was going to cause as much cancer as is physically possible. The humidity was also worth noting, it felt like an omnipresent entity. Like if you turned around fast enough, you might just catch it sneering. Though turning around wasn't advisable as you would most certainly send a wave of sweat hurtling towards the wall. And that's no fun to mop up.

Then came the first of September and it seemed Autumn was tired of waiting in the wings. The sky turned dark and you could almost hear Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkyries' playing in the background. There was a sense of doom in the air and you didn't need a sixth sense to know that Autumn had just made itself known. Leaves just seemed to shrivel and die, indeed entire branches followed suit. Then there's the wind, would you be wearing sufficiently baggy clothing, you would soon find yourself on the other side of town.

But, I thank this attention seeking weather, one desperately trying to do out do the other. Because now no one is willing to take part in the completely vulnerable outdoor 'English Corner.' And if you've ever been involved with one of them you know that you pray for all types of natural disasters to come between you and it. "Sorry kids, I'd love to stay and tell you what my favourite colour is, but that lava flow is getting too close for my liking." It could happen!

Andy Scott

On The Fast Track To Cirrhosis

I just received my medical report from the tests I did in Wuhan. It confirms that I am an unhealthy person, but anyone could tell that just by looking at me. I am though healthy enough to work and that is good enough for the school. It seems that I have 'fatty liver' or 'steatorrhoeic hepatosis.' Long medical terms always make it sound worse than it is, so it's fun to use it.

Even before I quickly researched the condition, I knew it must have something to do with the booze. I hit the nail on the head with that prognosis. Here is what Wikipedia says on the subject:

Fatty liver or steatorrhoeic hepatosis is a reversible condition seen in chronic alcoholism and many other conditions, where large vacuoles of lipid accumulate in hepatocytes (the cells of the liver).

Causes

Many chemicals, such as alcohol and drugs can cause fatty liver.

Fatty liver can occur in diabetes mellitus and in pregnancy (acute fatty liver of pregnancy). It can also be seen in starvation and obesity. In addition, it is also a minor symptom of hepatitis that may indicate progression to cirrhosis.

It's typical, I spend the last six months drinking very sparsely and doing a lot of work to help heal my stomach, growing back my stomach lining, when that was only half the problem. Not even half when you get down to it. The answer: Stop drinking altogether and start being more healthy. There was a mention of quitting smoking, but we don't want to start making hasty statements like that do we? One vice at a time.

I can only imagine that it feels fantastic to be healthy, I know that. But, the tedious routine that is involved...all the best things in life are bad for you, there's some cruel reality.

So, very reluctantly I announce that no more shall I imbibe of alcoholic drinks. I'd throw a party in commemoration of it, but I can't think of anyway to 'celebrate' without drinking. As for frequent exercise, I'm going to take this rehabilitation slowly, so it'll be a long time before you catch me jogging around a track. I just feel that in some way I'm letting my nation down, what kind of self respecting Aussie would turn down a frosty, cold beer. Now, I have to go and find some way to brighten my day before I begin my SUNDAY lessons. Life is fun!

Andy Scott

Great Teacher Andyzuka

I was eased into my first classes by only having two of them over the period of the day. One in the morning and one in the afternoon. It was a great way to become accustomed to the classroom again. I haven't taught for over six months, but it's not something you forget how to do. For this semester I am in charge of eight Junior II groups whom I see twice a week. But, since for some reason they made us teach this weekend I'll see most of them three times this week.

Junior II is about the time the students turn 13. So ,you can imagine the usual adolescence that is associated with that age group. But, ages don't apply in places like China, people are often much more immature than their age bracket. For example a group of 13 year olds is more like a group of 10 year olds by Western standards. Or maybe times have changed extremely rapidly since I was that age.

For the first lesson when I first meet the class I often begin with an introduction to what I want them to achieve. I also let them know something about myself. I feel that classes should be informal in a way, but not to the point where the kids are out of control. I usually never had to worry because in Guanghua most of my students were aged between 16-18. So, they were far more mature. Well, at least they were more quiet.

It really did feel good to be back in there as a teacher. Yesterday when I gave my speech I made sure to let all the students know to call me An Hai Dao, 'Hai Dao' is Chinese for 'Pirate' and it was a common nickname for me in Guanghua. I was absolutely thrilled today when I entered the first class and was immediately blown away by a large chorus of 'HAI DAO!!' It caught on very quick because no matter where I go I hear those two words following me. Even when I was in a restaurant for lunch today. I've never had a nickname reach this level of popularity so fast. Though I imagine once the novelty has worn off for them things will get back to normal. In the meantime I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.

Andy Scott

Jingmen School...ASSEMBLE!

Today School officially opened for business, as the students merged on the field and various leaders sat on a platform looking official. Then the three foreign teachers who made it before the term started sat behind them. The students stood patiently as sounds were emitted from the headmaster's mouth in the form of a long winded welcome. Would that be the end everyone could breathe a small sigh of relief, but you can't have an official ceremony that lasts for five minutes, it's against tradition. It's tradition that brings everyone there in the first place. You can feel the apathy in the air, it was almost as thick as the humidity.

We foreigners then stood to face the crowd. Liz, Michael and myself gave a quick wave as our names were mentioned. A newer tradition is for one expat to give a speech about how happy they are to be teaching at this school. I guess it's normally given to the newcomer, because I had to prepare several words to announce my arrival. I do try to make it light-hearted at short, otherwise they really wouldn't care. After a few vital messages from other people we hopped into a car and moved to the South campus to do it all over again.

This was the first meeting I've had with our school leaders. And already I can see that things are much different here than in Guanghua. Mainly because once the ceremonies were over we weren't whisked away to some restaurant to have copious amounts of alcohol shoved down our gullets. I was surprised to find that I was a bit disappointed by that. Seeing as it was those same drunken banquets that caused me to be in the state of health I am in. They are fun though, I can't deny that.

I hadn't met Michael before, but he's been in China about as long as me. After exchanging a few pleasantries we both journeyed to one of the local big supermarkets that is supposed to stock a few imported goods. I learnt long ago not to have high hopes at these places and it was lucky I didn't. There wasn't much there to distinguish it from any other of the local Chinese supermarkets. But, they did have a few things that later I'll be glad for.

And that's it up until now. The day is still young and hopefully I'll get out again later for a few rounds of pijiu. Classes begin tomorrow, which is fine. It's just I've never taught on a weekend before and even though I haven't done any work for the past week or so, it's the principle that counts. The feeling in the air is that it is siesta time, my body agrees that the feeling is mutual. I might just go check into that. Bye.

Andy Scott