Bikinis and booze

We went to the beach on on Saturday as it was Daisy's birthday and her Beijing based Cambridge friends had come down. They all wore bikinis which I didn't mind but the problem was they were the only ones. The Chinese dont wear them so they just attracted a lot of attention and men annoyed us by taking photos and being a bit too close.

A small child came over and started playing with me. We lined all his toys up and counted them in Chinese. Then he surprised me by doing it in English too-although he ran out of steam at 6. He was wearing designer clothes so I suspect someone has rich parents. He complimented me on my white skin which was quite smooth for a 4 year old.

For dinner we ate teppanyaki which I swear is my favouritest thing ever. So good.

After that I detached to go to a friend's house and we stayed up to watch the football. A friend's cousin was there and insisted on drinking Laoshan beer, which is the cheap beer in Qingdao, Laoshan being a famous mountain nearby. I have a more discerning taste and insist on 青啤, qingpi, aka Qingdao beer. The thought this was funny...

Didn't Barcelona make Man U look like Qingdao Sea Bulls? (The local footy team. And crap.)

I got home just after 4:30 and it was pretty much light. Qingdao's far off mountains looked very pretty in their blue against the pink sky.

Old Qingdao Family

We got our writing exam results back a few days ago and I got the best mark in the class, closely followed by the other western-educated student. I think it really shows the difference between those who are taught mainly to memorise and repeat, i..e. the Koreans, do better at the reading exam (teacher gave us the answers day before- we had to memorize them) but when it comes to actually creating something, the Westerners pull ahead.

This was exemplified by a class I taught today. They were supposed to use their imagination to imagine imaginatively an imaginative movie. And they could not do it. I asked for a character's name. Any name. Any English name. Any name at all. Do you understand me. Yes. Ok a name. Silence. Ok Samuel can I have a name. Silence. I don't know. We settled on Kate eventually. Then I needed a story for this movie. We spent five minutes reminiscing about movies we had seen but still nothing for our movie... 

Writing teacher said some bits of my essay sounded like a Chinese student had written them :D

I had 3 hours to kill during teaching today (should have been two but a student didn't turn up) so I hopped on the bus to Zhongshan Park because it was such a lovely day (I could see a horizon!). On the way in I passed some men with a Shetland pony and they came over to me. I thought they were trying to get me to pay to ride it but then realised they just seemed to want to talk to me. One asked if there were Shetlands in the UK and how much money. When I replied saying around 5000RMB he looked a bit thoughtful so I wonder how much he paid for his. The pony looked in fairly good condition, which is not the norm for beasties in China. I patted it and it nuzzled my leg. It was called 奥巴马, aobama, which is how they spell Obama. The last character means horse so it is rather fitting for a pony! As I talked to the owners a little crowd gathered and one woman was like "ooo don't you think her Chinese is good!" to the others. *pink*.

There was another man with a larger, but still small, white pony that he was riding around looking like a disappointing version of a white knight.

 :)
On the way back from work my taxi driver asked me the standard "what country are you from""Britain""oh your Chinese is amazing""I just said Britain but ok thank you". I then asked him the standard "are you from Qingdao" to which they normally reply "yeah". But this one leapt at the question and it turned out his family has been in Qingdao for generations and they even have a bus stop named after them. Or rather the bus stop is named after a village that used to be there before but is now just skyscrapers was named after his family.  His surname is 辛,, Xin, and the bus stop is 辛家庄, Xinjiazhuang, Xin Family Village. I go past it almost every day

Wherever you're going, I'm going your way...

Qingdao is building a metro which won't be completed for a year or two. Unfortunately it is really needed now as the buses at rush hour, or even just a normal time, tend to be quite packed. My tutor lessons finish at 6 which is the rushiest of the rush hour.

The bus pulls up. It's packed. Bursting at the seams. My fellow waitees stampede for the doors, nearly crushing the disembarking passengers who are popped out by the pressure within. I let them get on before me. It looks like they won't all fit but I know, from weary experience, that they will. And just as the last squeezes on, surely leaving room for no more, I hop on and push out a few square centimetres. There's always room for more.

Why do I get on last? Because you do not want to be in the middle of a packed bus. It's hot and stuffy and easy to get stuff stolen. As people get on they push people in, so it gets more and more squashed. And it's impossible to squeeze through the wall to get off at your stop. You're stuck until the bodies around you are cleared. I stay right next to the door. Normally stop by stop you're carried forward into the middle of the bus, rather like convection, but I don't give up my spot by the door.

Then I finally can get off and play a quick game of "now do I have the same number of possessions I started that ride with".

So travelling at rush hour is not fun but after hours it can be quite pleasant. I get on, pinpoint the person in a seat most likely to leave soon and stand right by them. They get off, I sit down, all smiles. Yesterday I reached my home stop but decided to stay on the bus to see if it went anywhere interesting. I was on the 125 and we pootled along East Hong Kong road before turning to go up into Zombieland. I hopped off at a bus station, before we hit the River Styx, and caught the next random bus. We went past the football stadium (very grand, but slightly threatening in its emptiness) and then god knows where. I got off again outside a supermarket and finally caught a bus home. It was fascinating seeing flashes of life I don't normally see. A woman in high heels walking by herself on a desolate road. Lots of BBQ tents set up near rubble. Lots of rubble. (Sometimes Qingdao is shiny glass skyscrapers in a sea of rubble and dirt). Smart flats with multicoloured lights.

Quite good fun for 30p:)

Went to a 麻辣烫, malatang restaurant today. I hate 麻, tongue-tingling, I really hate 辣, spicy, and I'm not a big fan of 烫, watery broth. So surprise surprise, I did not like it... I can't believe anybody thinks water with vegetation is a suitable main meal. And it wasn't very cheap either...

So I consoled myself with a big slice of genuine cheesecake.

I went to fetch Becka's wages (long story...) and there was a teacher at her school with a marked cockney accent he has got from films. I am impressed by the effort he has put in to get such an affected accent. He tried to get me to take over from Becka. I refused all the ten times he asked me.

Chinese Musical Instruments

Article I wrote for Redstar on Chinese musical instruments. I'm afraid it is rather long!

Think of China’s culture and a show reel of images flickers through your mind’s eye. The Great Wall, Forbidden City, Three Gorges and even Shanghai’s Pudong skyline, all flash up, one after the other in glorious Technicolor splendour. All very impressive. But every show needs a soundtrack and, needless to say, China’s is worthy of an Oscar. Boasting a musical heritage stretching back thousands of years with an evolution largely independent from that of Western music, some great sounds have developed on some rather special instruments.

History

Nothing attests to the famed longevity of Chinese civilisation than its tradition of making music, with the oldest excavated instrument, a flute, dated at 7000 years old. By the start of the Zhou dynasty in 1046 B.C.E, music was highly revered and was one of the four arts upright young men were required to study if they wanted to call themselves a true gentleman. During the Spring and Autumn period (770-476 B.C.E) music, along with philosophy and engineering, flourished in one of China’s golden periods of creativity. Musicians flocked to courts to enjoy the patronage of the rich and powerful- certainly preferable to joining one of the many armies of the period! But the age of playing guzhengs under the cherry blossom was not to last as the destruction of music scores by the First Emperor of the Qin dynasty heralded the decline of classical music. Under his rule much of the musical heritage of China was lost and only echoes of the music enjoyed for centuries before can be heard today. Much of our modern Chinese traditional music descends from that developed in the Tang period, (618-907), a time when music again flourished under the patronage of the emperors and many instruments we recognise today had taken shape in huge orchestras scattered throughout the imperial palaces. The rise of Chinese opera can be accredited with boosting the study and development of music, along with the instruments, and a great variety of forms and styles developed across China. Indeed today the most likely place to hear great classical music is in the opera theatre and many distinguished artists continue the popularity of this music style. The other feature of Chinese traditional music today is the influence of Western musical styles. The Occident has long effected the development of Chinese instruments and music through the Silk Road, with instruments influenced by the designs of Central Asia, but today western orchestras now getting in on the act by incorporating Chinese instruments as either soloists or in groups.  Western musical technology has also left its mark, most notably on the erhu. And as China has adopted modern forms such as pop and rock, so they have experimented using traditional instruments on their tracks. And through all this, traditional ensembles continue to play a sound hardly unchanged for centuries. Confucius would be proud.

China’s sound owes much of its uniqueness to its musical instruments, which were traditionally classified in 8 categories according to the material used to make the instrument (stone, bamboo, wood, metal, silk, clay, gourd and hide). Our tastes have changed somewhat, banging on stone drums is no longer in vogue for instance, but the traditional favourites, and some exotic interlopers, are as popular as ever.

Guzheng

It is 206BC and you are a nobleman, or woman, at the court of the First Emperor of China. Mingling with the most powerful people in the land, lords dressed in expensive robes and ladies dripping in jewels, you would be able to hear through the courtly intrigues and buzzing gossip the melodious strains of a guzheng. Fast-forward over 2000 years and the descendants of this instrument can still be heard, albeit at concerts rather than court! Back then the guzheng had only 5 strings but has now evolved into many different forms-from 14 strings up to 26. It belongs not only to China but is played from Vietnam in the south to Korea in the east. Today it remains one of the most popular traditional Chinese instruments to learn with its stately appearance and impressive tones. The playing style is fairly unique, with plectra worn on the fingers to pluck the strings, which are cut in half by several bridges. Playing either side of these bridges results in slightly different tones to the note and whilst traditionally both hands played the full range of notes, more and more the guzheng has been influenced by the piano so that the left hand is mainly reserved for low bass notes and the right for the melody. This gives a greater melodic range but then loses the delicate ornamentations in older music that only the left hand can provide so students today often learn both techniques. The music of the guzheng was originally classified into two schools, one centring around our very own Shandong, the other around Guangdong. Gao Shan Liu Shui (Water Flowing from High Mountains) and Han Gong Qiu Yue (Han Palace under the Autumn Moon) are popular pieces from the Shandong school and Han Ya Xi Shui (Winter Crows Playing in the Water) and Chu Shui Lian (Lotus Blossoms Emerging from the Water) originate from the Guangdong school. Guzhengs are also popular in fusion music with the artist Zhang Yan using it in Jazz music as well as the band Gorillaz in the song Hong Kong. The guzheng is great to learn if you are a very busy person as even a complete beginner can make it sound good with a simple sweep of the hand over the strings. With a little time and dedication you too will be fit to play for an Emperor!

Guqin

The granddaddy of Chinese musical instruments, the guqin has a long and illustrious pedigree. Mythology holds that just about every legendary figure in Chinese pre-history was involved in inventing the guqin and whilst we can’t agree for sure, there is no doubt this instrument has been around for a long time. It was played at least 2500 years ago by Confucius himself, who is believed to have said “a gentleman does not part with his Qin without good reason”. Indeed the oldest piece of Chinese music known today was played by him on the guqin. Similar to a guzheng, but without bridges, the 7 stringed guqin is renowned for its mellow and deep voice, rather like that of a western cello. This famously difficult instrument is played by plucking the strings with your hands using one of three techniques, San Yin, Fan Yin and An Yin. San Yin, “scattered sounds” is the basic pluck of the string while Fan Yin, “floating sounds” are harmonics and An Yin, “stopped sounds” is a deep pluck of the string followed by moving the hand to alter the pitch. There are over 1000 different finger techniques with the guqin although prospective students can breathe a sigh of relief as modern players require only around 50. Famous pieces include Meihua San Nong (Three Variations on the Plum Blossom Theme) and Xiao Xiang Shui Yun (Mist and Clouds over the Xiao and Xiang Rivers). In modern times the guqin is still on top as one of the most revered Chinese instruments and was recently made a Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO- quite an honour. The guqin has even gone intergalactic as a recording of Liu Shui, (Flowing water), played by the guqin maestro Guan Pinghu, was included on a record of world music sent into space on Voyager spacecrafts. Perhaps we are not alone in enjoying the rich melodic sound of the guqin…

Pipa

Perhaps one of the most famous and widely played Chinese instruments is the pipa. Originally it was a popular solo instrument invented during the Qin dynasty and these days has found a new lease of life in fusion music, namely in concerto pieces supported by a western orchestra, as well as continuing in traditional ensembles. The four-stringed lute was originally possessed of a rounder figure and fewer frets but the design was altered during the Tang dynasty as a lute from the Persian kingdom along the Silk Road became more popular. This lute, more streamlined in shape, was played more like a guitar and thus usurped the pipa’s position at court. The original pipa survives today as the type of lute called a ruan, but the instrument we now know as the pipa gradually adopted the more pear shaped body and began to be played vertically, supported on the player’s lap. Pipa combines the word for strumming with fingers with that of plucking with the thumb and, unsurprisingly, the mixture of finger and thumb work is how it is played. The pipa is also know for its show-off flourishes as virtuoso techniques such as harmonics, rolls, slaps and pizzicato are enthusiastically added to even the simplest of pieces. This instrument is certainly designed for those who like a bit of pizzazz in their music! The twanging sound of the many strings being plucked produces something instantly recognisable as Chinese and it is very easy to be lost in the complicated maelstrom of notes and the mesmerising speed of a pipa player’s fingers. More traditional works include Shi Mian Mai Fu (Ambushed from Ten Sides) and Long Chuan (Dragonboat). For those into fusion music the pipa provides ample material with composers such as Phillip Glass and Tan Dun using the instrument in their work. And, purists look away now, there are even electric pipas…

Erhu

The erhu can definitely be considered the presumptuous upstart of Chinese musical instruments. It only has two strings for heaven’s sake! Not for it centuries of gracing imperial palaces, rather this simple instrument originated from nomadic peoples in Mongolia and is first mentioned in the Tang dynasty. It plied its trade at weddings and banquets, as well as accompanying local operas, before hitting the big time when Liu Tianhua (1895-1932) began writing solo pieces, starting with “The Sound of Agony” in 1915. Liu was also a violin player and used this experience to refine the erhu’s design, swapping silk strings for nylon, and realise its potential as a solo instrument. The erhu was soon showcasing its distinctively haunting sound in refined concert halls and conservatories, up there among the manicured guzhengs and pipas. Despite this success, however, it never quite left its humble roots behind. Hua Yanjun, also know as Abing, (1893-1950) was a blind street musician from Wuxi and is still considered one of the greatest erhu players ever despite the fact that only a handful of recordings of him playing were ever made- and even these were from the last months of his life when he was very sick. Nowadays the erhu often appears in orchestras playing a similar role to that of the violin with groups playing a melody. But to appreciate the true beauty of the instrument you need to hear it sing out alone. From low, resonating growls to high, haunting notes, the erhu has a richness and depth of sound that is due to the lack of a fingerboard, which allows flexibility in finger placing that a violinist can only dream of. The unique addition of python skin to the soundboard also helps to give that otherness sound that makes an erhu so instantly identifiable. Learning to the play the erhu can be a love-hate relationship. You’ll love it but your nearest and dearest will not… At least when you begin. But amongst the creaking yowls and torturous squeals there will be the occasional note of rich, silvery pureness, echoing the wind across the steppe…

Ireland

Ireland. I've been there twice-once to Limerick with my parents some when I have forgotten. All I remember from this visit is limestone pavements that Mum pointed out. And a smiling barwoman. The second was to Dublin in the autumn of 2009. I'd had one of my periodic bouts of itchy feet and this, together with an awkward situation in Edinburgh, a Dublin-based friend's invitation and £20 return flights with Ryanair, meant I decided to skip town for a long weekend (er 6 days).

What I remember from that visit is that it was pretty much like any Industrial-era town in the UK although much more expensive due to a bad euro exchange rate. Similar brick terrace houses, similar modernistic regeneration community centres. Similar supermarkets, language, clothes, weather... Pretty much everything was similar.

This is because the history of our two islands has been knotted together for centuries and remains tangled up today. Bizarrely I was never taught the history between the four countries of the British Isles at school- even though you would think this was a really rather important topic. In fact vast swathes of our history was missed out. Luckily Wikipedia is there to take up the slack...

So this week Queen Elizabeth paid her first visit to Ireland, at the request of the Irish government. And hasn't she done well? She has acted impeccably, expressing the heartfelt sorrow that British people feel at the horrific acts committed in our name and our wish to be as we should, neighbours working together to support each other, sharing as we do so much. The Irish have been largely very welcoming, recognising our regret at past actions.

Except for Gerry Adams and his ilk. He bitches about it "being too soon" and that the British government has refused to release details of an atrocity in 1974 committed by the Unionist Volunteer Force with the suspected collaboration of the British security services. There is no doubt these details should be released and, when they are, lets have IRA documents released about some of their sordid doings as well.

I have a strong suspicion such documents would hint Mr Adams' hands are far from clean. So he's keeping quiet about that.

So he complains about "victims of British rule" and "legacy issues" while the Queen, whose cousin was murdered in the conflict, lays a wreath on a memorial to martyred independence fighters, learns a few words of Irish, and acknowledges past wrongs.

I think people need to accept that a significant number of people in the north of Ireland wish to be British subjects and others there wish to be Irish citizens. Each side should respect the others' wish and endeavour to hold it as important as their own view.

As for Gerry Adams, his bitter hate, his caricaturing of Britain as the tyrannical colonial master, gives him his raison d'etre.  Why doesn't he go lay a wreath to a memorial for the victims of the IRA? Why doesn't he give a speech expressing regret? Because the minute he admits the bogeyman Britain no longer exists, he will fade into obscurity as the fossil he is.

I'd hate to live in a world filled with people like that.

And I'm glad we have the Queen.

Never Doing That Again

I went to the hairdresser's and asked for chin length and curly. I got very short and straight.

I made a mistake of hinting that he stop cutting my hair so short. Instead of "er not too short" I should have bellowed "STOP RIGHT NOW" to get the meaning across. I've lived here long enough to know the Chinese can't do sarcasm or hints.

We only went to that one because the tried and tested ones had either moved to a new premises and not opened yet (we found out only after traipsing from the original location to the new- what a waste of time that was...) and the other was "having rest time until tomorrow".

Grrr.

I was in the Qingdao university foreign cafe when an Italian asked if I used to study in Edinburgh. Turned out we studied together last year when she'd been in Edinburgh as a visiting student. I was impressed she recognised me in my baldness.

How is it I can still accidentally run into people in China whom I first knew half a world away? I mean perhaps it is not so likely that two students studying Chinese should end up in China but this is a country of 1.3 billion. To meet despite that is something. It's so unbelievable I don't feel surprised-just acceptance.

I dislike being on a Chinese bus in rush hour. It's like being trapped in a sardine tin. Except not as roomy, or as fragrant.

Apparently Westerners move their faces more thatn Asians. Racial stereotyping still alive and well here in the PRC.

Tickets home have finally been booked. Mum and I will be getting the train from Beijing to St Petersburg. Along the way we'll visit the world's ugliest capital in Ulan Bator, ride across open steppes near Ulan Bator, see the capital of Siberia, admire the spires of Vladimir, try not to get murdered in Moscow and finally snap photographs in St Petersburg. I like the sound of that.

Beach and Bellies

Qingdao has a salsa club- who knew?

Qingdao also has a coastline- this was already general knowledge- and yesterday we ventured onto 石老人,Shilaoren, Old Stone Man beach. Or some of us did. Becka told the taxi driver 石老人 and was indeed taken to 石老人.

She rang me.

"Louise I can't see the beach"
"What can you see?"
"There's a golf course and a hill"
"Try and walk in the most likely direction of the beach"

We hung up. I sighed and looked across the bay at the distant shore. Just discernible through the haze was lots of green punctuated by bits of sandy coloured holes.

"Laura is that thing miles away a golf course?"
"Yeah"

I re-rang Becka.

"I can see the golf course- you're miles away"
"Yeah I just asked a guy for the beach and he looked a bit taken aback and said it was 20 minutes away...."

She'd ended up in 石老人 the town, not the beach.

The beach was surprisingly nice. The bits nearest where I live tend to be very rocky and a bit dirty but this on was a nice wide stretch of sand. It was warm, although the wind made me wish I had something to cover my arms. There were quite a few Chinese and the odd foreigner-easily spottable as only the foreigners were wearing swimming costumes. All the Chinese just wore normal clothes- except for some models down one end taking photos.

We lazed about on the sand for a while before Daisy dared to go in the sea. She pretended it was warm but I didn't believe her.

That evening Becka and I were qing'ed by Boram and Sara to Korean BBQ. 请, qing, means to treat someone which was very sweet of them. However the meal was a bit disappointing as the meat was very chewy and gristly... BBQ consists of a hole in the middle of your table, into which are placed hot coals, covered by a grill. The food is cooked by someone on this grill- in China it is done by a waitress but in Korea you are supposed to do it yourself. I like this style restaurant, along with hotpot, where you cook the food together. It is very social. I'm hoping Edinburgh has something similar but I may be disappointed...

After we went to eat some cheesecake at Kiwi Cafe but they had run out of cheesecake... so we ate other goodies instead. We found some ancient cookbook full of recipes for the "working wife" on how to make mayonnaise. On the way back we went through a small square where lots of Chinese couples were doing a slow waltz in the dark. I am always fascinated to see these groups appear in public spots at night. There is always a group doing some synchronised line dance, no doubt remembered from Communist days, as well as the odd waltzing couple. They are always older people.

This morning I woke up early ("ahhhh nice lie in wonder what time it is probably half 10 got to go to work soon WHAT SIX FIFTY-THREE ARE YOU KIDDING ME") so I quite spontaneously went for a jog- this first while I've been here in China. I haven refrained from jogging before because a) I'd be a complete freak show b)there is nowhere nice to run and c) I'm lazy. And I was indeed a complete freak show- especially as I had to run through a market to get to the coastal walk. And my knee hurt at the end because there is only pavement to run on. As for C, Becka and I decided last night that either I was somehow 4 months pregnant, or I had a spare tire. I figured by running really hard I'll either miscarry or get fit. Both would result in a flat stomach...It was nice running in the sun and cool breeze although I was knackered by the end. I'm not sure how far it was- certainly not very far- but it's a start.

There was one Chinese wearing a swimming costume at the beach. It was a man who seemed to like striking superman poses. We agreed he should put some more clothes on.

Summer nihao!

I stepped out this morning and it was cloudy and windy and rainy. Scottish summer, in short.

By lunchtime it had transformed into blazing hot sunshine, the sky a brilliant blue, the trees a gay green. As we had an exam that finished early, I managed to get half an hour perching on the steps in the sun before I had to go meet Vivien for lunch. One thing I've noticed with her is that before we almost always spoke English but now we only speak Chinese. Might I have made progress?

I went to the Shangri-La hotel to check out their desserts for Redstar. Normally when I do this, I breeze up at the restaurant with a friend and it's all relaxed. With the hotel I had to pretend to be a proper food critic. They served up something they called "raspberry" and something with apricots and mascapone. The raspberry thing was various mousses on top of a crispy base- note for when making something similar- walnuts in base an excellent idea. The rest was uninspired. As for the apricot thing, they hadn't let it defrost properly. As they are so expensive, they don't get ordered very often so are kept frozen ready to use...

The PR lady asked when the article would appear, I speculated July and she got very agitated. She wanted it for June but that doesn't look likely...

The internet in our flat had died which meant we had to deal with tradespeople. Or rather, I did. A man came to the flat. We agreed there was no internet. We agreed the rest of the building had no internet. As to what we agreed after that, I have no idea. But now we have internet. But I may have promised my kidney.

I was also randomly rung up by someone cold calling. I answered the phone in Chinese ("WEI NIHAO") and was given a stream of what I'm sure was very interesting information.

"Erm, I don't understand"
"...huh?"
"What you're saying, I don't understand"
"...where are you from...?"
"Britain"
"Ah. I'll send you a text"
"yes I think that would be best"

Didn't understand the text either.

Rain, Whinge

It has suddenly leapt from slightly nippy and dry to warm and wet. For once today the opaque air was genuinely down to sea fog and not smog but even this did not cool the city down. It wasn't hot per se, but it reminded me how uncomfortable it was when I first got here...

I blackmailed Daisy into going with me to take photos of musical instruments I needed to go with an article I've written. It was something I'd been putting off and putting off but I finally got round to doing it. I've got some ok photos but I'm really not a photographer...

The British style rain and the dwindling weeks left in Qingdao have turned my attention to home- namely the election there. I feel kinda sorry for Nick Clegg. It was all so... rosy a few months ago. Party in power. Acclaim for self. AV referendum promised. Strong public support for AV. And then he went and spoiled it all by betraying the very people who put him there. What did he think would happen, when he reversed his policy on fees? That people wouldn't notice?

I rather liked the idea of AV- it offered a chance to end the presently neverending seesawing between Labour and Tory governments as each eventually causes a big enough cockup to remind the populace that they actually like the other team better.

So the Tories have bad ideas (tuition fees what a MESS that is becoming) and the Lib Dems are reluctant to complain too loudly. This is, after all, likely to be their last time in power for a while... Which leaves the Labour party. Which is utterly devoid of anyone remotely worthy to lead the United Kingdom. Where's the real Heir to Blair?

Wait, I forgot the SNP. Actually, Salmond genuinely believes in something. They value health and education.

Tempting...

I went to Book Nook which is a foreign language bookshop with a scary, hysterical American owner. I bought two Conn Iggulden books on Julius Caeser. AVOID THIS AUTHOR. Unless you like cliches, unrealisticly perfect characters and insultingly portrayed female characters that betray the author's complete misunderstanding of women's emotions and sexuality, more suited to the sticky imagination of 15 year old boys. In which case, go ahead. I have two books spare. I'll pay you to take them.

Imagine...

Qingdao's Expat group, which contains a higher than usual number of Very Enthusiastic people, have put on a pantomime. Odd time of year perhaps but my mix of Europeans and Asians were persuaded to go nonetheless.

The story was Robin Hood, or 罗宾汉, Luobin Han, a rough diamond with a heart of gold living in Laoshan forest. With the evil sheriff terrorising the inhabitants of Qingdao village, he has a tough job of protecting the people, wooing Maid Marian, and keeping Friar Tuck sober. Oh and there was also Red Riding Hood running around.

The cast was composed of Westerners, their children, random Koreans and one actual Qingdaonese. As AmDram pantos go it was entertaining but there were times when I thought the actors were enjoying it more than the audience...

It took place in the InterContinental hotel which, despite a lot of money spent on it and acres of nice and shiny marble, was nonetheless depressing. Perhaps it was too much black, but it might also have been the number of businessmen loafing around. I sensed they'd rather be thousands of miles away with their family than killing time alone in Qingdao...

I asked a class to briefly create a movie using their imagination. I explained what imagination was. Creating something new. I know your country is not famed for innovation but maybe you guys can surprise me. Imagine.

I got a retelling of Twilight and some Chinese folk story. *Headdesk*

Tutoring

I have acquired a tutor to squeeze every last drop of Chinese learning possible out of my time here- which is fewer than 10 weeks left. She is currently studying how to teach Chinese at Qingdao University- a useful attribute in a teacher! She is not, by tutoring standards, very cheap but less than half what I ask for when I teach English and I have 10% her training so I can't complain...

Plus she seems very good. She is slightly older than me and seems one of the few Chinese who are interested in things outside their immediate sphere. She knew a surprisingly large amount about Diana for example. This mean that we had a lot more to talk about than I do with Vivien. Although at one point she leaned forward and whispered "er this topic is too dangerous!" when we were talking about islam.

Which amused me.

We had the lesson in a cafe on the campus of Qingdao Uni which is right next to my campus. Unlike my campus, which is in the process of being abandoned and sold, this one had students on it. Very strange! It also had pine trees and the smell took me right back to evenings in California.

An article of mine was published in Redstar magazine and I was paid for it. That makes me a proper writer, right?

An eejit jumped a red light and tried to run me over. Bad mood.

The dead cat has been moved away from the pavement. It had a lot of flies above it. I suspect every time I get off the bus, I will be treated to the gradual stages of decomposition your average dead cat will undergo. Yay.

Free Food!!!!!

Tucked behind the back of a shabby hotel, past the goods entrance, is Qingdao's bowling alley. The Chinese for bowling is 保龄球, baoling ball. Spot the transliteration.

The bowling alley was rather old, which surprised me. The machines were all a bit shabby and the programs used for the scores were rather 90s. Normally this kind of thing is brand spanking new, with all the bells and whistles. This alley also lacked the gates that can be used in British places to stop the ball going into the gutter, which proved a challenge for some members of the team... I didn't play as my eye infection is back and it was hurting like a bitch. It also meant I was permenantly crying from my left eye which blurred my vision. This, combined with my usual uselessness at a)aiming at an object and b) throwing something with force, meant that I took a spectator view. Sara won with a score of 88. According to a poster this meant she should have had a free coke, but apparently this only applied to those who had got the score on their penultimate throw. On a full moon in a leap year on the 30th February as well probably...

After this Becka and I pootled off to The Diner. This is the best place for Western food and normally we go every now and then. This time though, I had a secret mission- to review their desserts. I'm writing an article on the best puds in Qingdao and this place was no.1. It was done "properly" so they were warned in advance that I was coming.

We went in. Three of the staff looked over, uninterestedly.

"Hi, I'm Louise" I said.

"Sorry?"

"Er, from Redstar"

They were much more interested then. The chef came over and shook my hand and introduced himself. I explained I was there to review the desserts. He was unusual in that he had dreadlocks-not many Chinese men have that hairstyle... I, half remembering that Jaimi had called him Japanese, asked if he was Japanese. Turned out I'd remembered wrong, he was in fact Chinese. Calling a Chinese person Japanese is a bit of a faux pas... Turns out the main waiter, I hesitate to call him a maitre d', is the Japanese...

Oops.

I ordered the steak, the 2nd most expensive thing, and Becka went for the fish and chips. The steak was lovely and Becka's fish and chips were done properly. Then came the chocolate souffle, our raison d'etre. Now I don't like chocolate. Unusually. But I manfully ate half and Becka had the rest. There was a solid outside and a gooey centre, all made with imported Belgian chocolate. So there is a Chinese man who can cook western food!

Redstar works by having an advertising license. Everything it writes has to sell something, or it can't publish. So any reviews I write have to be, on the whole, laudatory. This means restaurants want to be in the magazine, so Becka and I got the meal, over 200RMB, free :D For a student, free food makes us very happy;)

I did feel very guilty when we left though. The chef had scurried out when we finished to ask how things were and said not to worry about the bill, but there was still this sense that we had missed something out when we siddled out...

I have to review as many desserts in Qingdao as possible. Tough job, but someone's gotta do it...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHAMAwIWciA

That link is to the first part of a documentary called "Crossing the Line", about an American who defected after the Korean War to North Korea. He still lives in North Korea. It is fascinating, heart-breaking, surprising and gripping. I can't recommend it enough. Surprises right to the very end. Worth the four hours loading via vpn!