December 31st: New Year's Eve in Shanghai

Day 106

Woke and had some lunch, blogged for a bit, enjoying my "snow day." Lindsey informed us that we would be leaving at 1:30 instead of 4:30. I hastily packed, picked out some travel CDs. We took a cab over to Dongzhou and helped Lindsey load her lugagge into the car which was equipped with a tape player. D'oh!

We stayed occupied in the back playing with a Gameboy I had confiscated in one of Thursday's classes. I had forgotten my book. I also wrote down odd phrases I saw along the highway like "Salute the investrs. Satisfy the investrs needs."

The ferry wasn't running so we had to take the bridge which added over an hour to our journey. I was beginning to doubt I'd ever see Shanghai in the daylight. When we originally arrived by plane it was dark, and now by car it was dark. Perhaps by boat or train I could enter its metropolitan majesty with a clear view.

We checked in to the Amersino hotel, and it was a bit of an ordeal because of our lack of passports. We insisted our driver's licenses were good enough and we prevailed. We each took a room and I took a glorious post road trip piss. Lindsey had Heather's mobile phone and got a call from Alainna and Heather saying they weren't coming. They had spent two and a half hours waiting for the ferry that wasn't running and had turned back, promising to catch up with us tomorrow. Having one room too many now, we attempted to return one room: mine.

The clerk girl gave us grief about being there an hour already (which we weren't, the check-in process took a while and that's when she printed the invoice with the time on it.) and then a maid discovered I had used the toilet, broken that sacred sanitary seal. We coughed up an additional 30 kuai and at last everything was sorted. But then we also needed another key card because Lindsey had locked herself out. More noise, more hassle that could have been cured by American customer service standards. I'm curious why the permanent kindergarten cuddly culture doesn't permeate the service industry: "Welcome to Amersino hotel! Can I make a friend with you? Here is your new key! Ok, I love you! We are friends now! Don't forget me as time goes by!"

We were famished and had been talking about nachos the whole car trip up, so we took a cab to a bar called "Badlands", a saloon/eatery that fancied itself as some southwestern jewel. Some lousy Glen Campbell wannabe was chimed over the speakers and at the pool table were Anglo gents in their 50's laying hands on the staff and house prostitutes so much, one would think they were languorously frisking them for weapons. They had the air of two men on a business trip grasping at missed moments in youth, thinking they could be found in the curved temples of breast and buttock, wedding rings in their shirt pocket or hotel night stand.
It made me sick. I was commenting and groaning in disgust so often, I was forced to change seats so they would be out of my line of vision.

I finally had a Guinness and it was chocolate coffee exquisiteness on my palate after such an absence. We bought cigars from a tobacco girls that came around in five minute increments, saving them for after the meal. We regaled each other with tales of what went on in 2004, and I was amazed at how much I remembered, despite not keeping a journal until this one.

2004: From the post-Bella poverty-stricken winter days of Bruce and I surviving on frozen pizza and Steel Reserve, making songs and watching DVDs from the library. Then to the augmentation of Elise, grabbing her from the icy confines of Lansing. The advent of new job at Max and Erma's as weather turned better, the Sundays of debachery, the realization that Max and Erma's would never get its shit together from a management standpoint, our mutual quitting. Then the return of living alone as first Bruce and then Elise returned to the desert, the revamped delving into serious songwriting, the new job at Mecklenburg Gardens, getting coffee with Sara Jett, nights of karaoke with Jenn, Steve, Gabe, Chance, Janet, sushi dinners with LA and taking her to Jungle Jim's and to dig clay at my parents' farm, the search for teaching abroad, the multiple Paperback shows and BBQ with chocolate-covered bacon and Jello shots, hanging out with my fellow Roanokers, Hallie and Minh's naked parties, my birthday tea party in Burnet Woods, the waiting game of wondering when I would leave for China, then the 48 hour notice, then the first three and a half months of a new lifestyle and culture, traveling to Suzhou, making friends in both clubs in Haimen, my epidoses of quiet afternoons of reading in Dongzhou park that never panned out quite so quietly, being stalked by Linda for a week, meeting the other Westerners in Haimen, finding dumplings, the arrival of Matt, the holiday season, to finally seeing off new good friend Lindsey that I've only known a month but seems like longer. Crazy year, 2004. I'll miss ye.

Our Mexican bounty was delicious and our dude brought out a plate of tacos that no one ordered (he had pointed at it on the menu and Lindsey said No, corrected him by pointing to the one underneath). Matt and I "manned up" and ate them anyway. We left the Badlands in search of more spirits and better music. As we left, we were accosted by a beggar with twisted-up limbs. We waved him off, but he chased us, and despite his handicap was quite the trackstar. It got scary. e went across the street and ducked into the "Westminster," a green-walled little dive with flags from various countries hanging on the ceiling. The Canadian flag was closest to the toilet. "Yeah, I'm sure it's totally intentional" I told my fussy Canook cohorts.

We smoked cigars, drank Tsingtao, played a card game called golf. We decided to head to a club to ring in the new year. We got a cab eventually (it was Manhattan-bad, tons of cabs, but already full of people.) and got dropped off on a club district. On the way we shouted to some Anglos on the sidewalk: "Hey, where's the party?" They responded in thick Ukrainian accents, wondering the same thing. They seemed creepy, so we took off.

We heard some beats emanating from a place called "Manhattan Club." Nice place, but poorly planned from a space perspective. the dance floor was too small and right in the middle of a high traffic area to get to the WC. We did "sex on the beach" shots, but once again alcohol was minimal if present at all. Erin seemed to be having the best time. There was a good mix of Westerners and Chinese all having a good time. I met a bloke named Murray from Scotland and his mate from Indianapolis.

Matt kept trying to buy a sweater off one Chinese guy dancing. It looked like a big sheet of graph paper. I told him it wasn't as cool as he believed and only worked in this guy's context. We took a picture for memory's sake.

Right before midnight, a tall girl came in the door and I waved and smiled. She came over and introduced herself as Nina. She was on her own because her friends flaked out, but she wasdetermined to go out and celebrate. She was from New York, so she chose the Manhattan club. We drank and laughed, all expats and fast friends in a strange land, all good company. See what one smile can do? Midnight arrived and there was a countdown by the bar masses, and we did another weak orange shot to ring in 2005. A techno remix of "Auld Lang Syne" kicked in which was funny because I had predicted it as a joke earlier.

There were some seedy Westerner denizens in the bar: one of the Ukrainians had followed us and he spent the night rubbing his groin on a Chinese girl's ass and pretending it was dancing. Another piggish chap in a sportcoat (perhaps Aussie) had a glowstick that he kept banging on the heads and breasts of any girl in his path. Lindsey got sucked into his clutches at one point and he grabbed her ass, banged his glowstick on her and just was generally unpleasant. Erin and I planned to steal his wallet as payback. (If one is playing king, the best vengeance is to take away the king's gold.) He however didn't keep it in his back pocket, so it was fruitless, but we had fun attempting and it made us feel not so toothless.

Nina's friends Arvid and Daniel showed and she stayed while we went in search of more sustenance. She gave me her email address and phone number which I promptly lost (Damn you, B52's!) I told her about the blog so I hope she googles her own name, Shanghai, New Year's, Manhattan and comes across this entry so she doesn't think I snubbed her.

We went across the street and were hailed by some guy pointing inside. "We want food, you have food?" He nodded, kept pointing, "Popo. Yes yes yes. Popo." Shrugging we climbed the stairs of the club and found to our delight a 50's diner type atmosphere serving Mexican food. Yes! 2005 was looking up already. Some French people nearby kept popping balloons and noisemakers annoyingly. When they left, one chap came over and asked if Lindsey was French because her eyes looked French or some bullshit.

After gorging ourselves on burritos and such, we hailed a cab (after much standing in the cold and watching other full cabs go by) and I showed the driver the card fromthe hotel. He drove us, dropped us off and we assumed we had been dropped off at a different entrance because it was a right-hand entry instead of straight-on. We took the elevator up to the fifth floor and nothing looked familiar. The door that was supposed to be ours was not ours. We were in another Amersino hotel. I looked at the card, saw two stars to mark the sites. Ah. We left and saw a cab across the street. A lady was at the wheel, having a distraught nap. We knocked on the glass and woke her, pointed to other star on the card and off we went.

She drove one direction, scratched her head, looked at the card, scratched her head, shouted out the window to someone for directions, turned around, headed in the other direction. "Oh my god," I said, "If she takes us right back to where we started it's not funny anymore." She did. Then she turned around again, scratched her head, headed back the other direction again. Erin was cackling in the back, still having the most fun out of all of us. I couldn't laugh because I was riding shotgun. Eventually she got us to the right hotel and I got out, not willing to pay for a cab ride three times longer than it should have been. Lindsey paid her 5 kuai.

It was around 5am when we all crashed. Happy New Year.

December 30th:the desk incident

Day 104

Woke with some reluctance. First at 7:30, then promised myself I'd get up at 8:30. Then I realized at 8:30 that I didn't have to teach until 10:55, so I slept another hour.

Had some coffee, some protein drink, a vitamin. Bit of a headache. It snowed properly, actual flakes today and the kids were going apeshit over it. I was just cold and irritable. In my last class, two rows would not stop talking after repeated requests. I kicked the door of the teacher's desk to make noise and said, "Stop talking!" They knew I was cold and had a headache. Before class had even started I had to beg them to shut the windows and doors over and over.

When class finally ended, I looked down and saw I put a huge crack in the wood. I cringed, shook my head. I hadn't kicked that hard, but since it happened at a time when I was yelling, I was afraid stories would escalate. I had to find Rose and be damage control before the story expanded into: "Mr. Willis threw a desk out the window onto a kid throwing snowballs because he's a crazy werewolf and he said the snowballs were making him cold!"

Rose was not in her office, but another lady stopped me, told me about parties for the last two classes tomorrow. I told her about the desk but I'm not sure if she understood, so I entreated her to follow me to the class so i could point it out.

When we got to the classroom Rose was already in there. I pointed to it, said, "I'm very sorry, Rose. I kicked it to tell the students to be quiet. I will pay for a new door. I'm so sorry."

Rose nodded, said "That's alright. Who were the students who were talking?"

Incredible! Not only was I not in trouble for breaking a piece of furniture, the blame fell back on the kids. Which I guess it does since I wouldn't have kicked the desk if they'd kept their stinkin' traps shut like I begged them over and over. I walked away feeling elated.

Matt and I grabbed dinner at the arctic dining hall, went upstairs where it was quieter and warmer (by warmer I mean that no doors were open to get direct draft, it was still cold as jailer's keys up there.)

Erin told me that Rose had told her we had no classes tomorrow. A snow day. Even though there was no accumulation, the precipitation had iced over. This meant we could leave for Shanghai eariler than 4:30.

We caught a cab to Dongzhou, ate some dumplings, watched "Girl With a Pearl Earring" with Lindsey. I had a snort of Jack Daniels to take the chill off. Lindsey's heater didn't fulfill its lot in life. I stood on her fridge to adjust the vent and nearly ate shit getting off of it. I fell back onto the bed nearly crushing Erin, and the laughter warmed everything for a moment.

When the film ended, we left Lindsey to pack and caught a cab back to the school. He demanded 10 quai, so we made him drive us all the way up to the dorm. Erin tried to flip down the meter and the guy said "Ting bu dong, ting bu dong." (I don't know what you are saying.) Right. A cabbie who has no idea what the meter is.

"Maybe it's his first night," Matt supposed.

He had the heat on, but curiously his window was a quarter down.

Lindsey had given us her DVD player and I made Erin and Matt takeit in their room. my productivity creatively would plummet were it in my room. The temptation is too great. Plus, I don't need to buy anymore DVDs.

Blogged, slept grinning that I could sleep in.

December 29th: spygame of allen/alin

Day 103

Woke, classes went fine, though they started being bratty about the candy: "Give two!" or trying to trade for another one. I turned in my lesson plans and Rose gave them back wanting them to be more detailed.

At 5, we three went to the hotel for dinner, at Lindsey's behest and treat. Heather and Andrew came too. Afterwards, we played cards at Lindsey's and drank Jack while Erin and Matt did laundry, vowing to catch up with us at the club later.

As we left to get massages, I ran into Allen, tried to confirm about Rhys and Lori. He said that if they went through a recruiter that he couldn't hire them because he would have to pay a finder's fee to the recruiter. My heart plummeted. This, a day after hearing he said they had the job? I kind of railroaded, insisting they were coming here in February, that he's been my friend for two years (it'll eventually be true) and that they contacted the school directly and if they happened to get mixed up with a different Alin (the recruiter) it was purely mistake and deception on Alin's part.

I think I talked up a good case for them. (I was so worried about it I had a dream where I sat with them and debriefed.) We went for massage and a girl with the English name Rachel worked me over great. She kept looking down and smiling and saying stuff about "may gua" to her co-worker. She said a word and I asked Heather what it meant: "ticklish." At one point she indicated I had something in my teeth. This made smiling hard when I got ticklish.

We went to Andy's club, drank for a bit. The short blond guy was spinning and Johnny had me come up on the mic. He said something and the people cheered. I shouted: "I'm the guy that says stuff while you dance, yeah!" They cheered. Johnny pointed at me said something, the people cheered. I pointed at him, "He talks too much while you're trying to dance. You just want to dance but he keeps saying stuff! Yeah!" They cheered. Too funny.

We then went to Alen's club (what is with all the Alens suddenly?) but Alen was not there. Jack said "Nanjing." Erin and Matt joined us, but Heather took off. After some crazy acrobatics for the floorshow, I went up and danced with some girl who sat near our table. "Danced"="stood on the bouncy floor." I last saw the girl being led by the arm out of the club by an unhappy guy. Hey, she asked ME to dance.

Some guys who stood "danced" near me suddenly decided I was the best friend and made me "gam bei" back at their table. In the haze of alcohol kept thinking of the Rhys situation. All through going back to Mike's room, then to the tents for pumpkin cakes they didn't have, all the way home, and even in dreams.

December 28th: new year's lesson

Day 102

Woke early and pedaled in the cold morning to the post office. I wasn't in the best mood after getting there; with numb extremities, chilled lungs. A showed a lady my slip and she pointed me to another gent who had a monstrous combover.

I gave handed him the slip, and he examined it for a minute. Then he went away, studied it some more, came back with a Western Union form and pointed at the "ID number" line. I fished out my license, handed it over. He studied that, someone came up and looked with him as he flipped it over, scrutinized it for god-knows-what. I was starting to seethe.

Finally, he saw the proper crease in the lamination or something because he went in the back and got a small padded envelope, from my friend Meghann in Moab. I turned to leave and dude stopped me, jabbed at the slip with an authoritative finger. I shrugged and he made a writing pantomime. I signed it. That wasn't enough. He wanted my license number, too. I signed that. Then he said "Country.Country." God damn it. I scratched out "USA" fiercely.

Pedaling down to the Times, I was close to going off and I did snap at a couple people. One was a person not paying attention just stepping into the bike lane and I barked, "Watch out! Jesus!" Another guy who was standing right next to a garbage can decided to chuck his plastic bag right in in the path of my oncoming wheel. "What the hell is wrong with you?! You're right by a garbage can?! Fucker!"

I went into the Times, got some noisemakers and two little notebooks with square-shaped paper. The clerk refused to take my 20 note because it was taped together. I sighed, pulled out another bill, smiled good-naturedly. It's not her fault if they have a policy against ghetto bills.

I pedaled back with my temper keeping me warm, shaved and showered. This week's lesson is all about New Year's Eve. I teach them about tuxedos and champagne and confetti and noisemakers and how to make a party hat. We do a countdown and I taught them "Auld Lang Syne" which they play in China year-round, so most of the kids knew the melody already.

I gave candy to my second class because they are always good. The new apathy crew got nothing, though they were good today. I gave the girl who gave me the card a big candy cane that Erin gave me. "Thank you very much for the card last week and for being a good student." I heard audible gasps of awe at her reward as I left. Maybe it will inspire them to follow her example.

So my brief moment of elation was killed by the bastards in the next class. I almost lost my temper with them. I had to bang on the desk and tell them to stop talking, repeating 20 times "Do not talk right now." Then I'd turn my backto write on the board and the mutterings and chatter would emanate. I had to take a book away from a guy in the back. I left without saying anything.

The guy who I took the book away from came running down the stairwell, "Sorry I was reading book."

"Ok." If he was truly sorry, would he have been reading it in the first place?

Meghann sent me a dvd of "Silent Night, Bloody Night", the finest Christmas themed horror film 1973 has to offer, some microwave popcorn and hot chocolate. Love that girl.

After dinner I pedaled out to Dongzhou to watch it, Erin And Matt saying they would follow suit, but I think they just wanted to stay in. Mike, Heather, Lindsey and I went out and got some fried dumplings, similar in taste to White Castle. These are delicious murder.

A quick stop at a bakery, a beer pit stop, and then back to Mike's room. He discussed travel plans for spring festival that sounded fun, a big wide train loop around China, coming back before the Chinese go on holiday thereby beating the hordes and skyrocketing prices. If we are off at the same time, I'm considering going with him.

"Silent Night Bloody Night" was just what I thought it would be. I can mine it for a few good samples. It's not rematstered at all, all scratches, too dark night shots, and muddled sound are intact. It's like video tapes never went away. Yay! Then we watched the end of "Evolution" and I pedaled home, slept the sleep of the tired.

December 27th: cold outdoors and whiskey indoors

Day 101

Woke and got some blase lunch, then took Matt to the Hainan school so Lindsey could introduce him to the headmaster. The weather is just a bit too cold and damp, prime weather to get sick. Lindsey gave us the key to her old flat at Hainan and we watched some kung fu program while waiting.

Lindsey returned with three people: the headmaster and two English teacher interpreters. The setting was odd. Lindsey's room was like a hotel room and meeting strange people in that setting felt like a drug deal instead of an interview.

Matt gave some background, the interpreters translated, then the headmaster would say something and the interpreters would give it in English. It culminated into Matt giving his CV to Lindsey who would then forward it to the headmaster.

Lindsey's students had opted to go to the cinema instead of her class, so we went to Dongzhou to talk to Penny. That resulted in telling us to go bother Allen, who was not in his office. What to do on a cold dreary afternoon? Dumplings, Jack Daniels, and watching "Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle."
It was better than I thought it was going to be. It occurs to me I might want to market my screenplay "In Pursuit of the Mushroom King" to whichever film company is greenlighting these comedies.

We went to the new and improved Times for shits and giggles. I ate a pumpkin cake and laughed at a jacket that said "We love all hands" and had a rooster on it. Took a cab back to the school, ate dinner.

After dinner, Lindsey and I went to the arts building and I ran through all my unheard songs. Feng Jao Li was in the only open room and I asked her if she had a key to another room and she shook her head. I went outside and got in through a window. You cannot stop music!

Halfway through my set, Feng Jao Li came in and started complaining that she didn't like sad songs. She pouted and fussed. Who invited her, anyway? She is such a child. She made a bottle-drinky motion inquisitively. I shook my head as earnestly as I could. Lindsey led her out after she kept saying she didn't like sad songs and saying my voice sounded like I had a sore throat. (It didn't and I don't.)

We got back and Erin fell asleep, so Matt, Lindsey and I played 3-up 3-down. I got a box today from Dana Hamblen, so I am richer in the realm of deodorant, new music and protein drink. We listened to a mix CD she made and then the new Culture Queer disc, which is awesome. I might ask her if she would like to help me with some drum tracks for my Lino stuff. There is another box at the post office which I have to pick up tomorrow. No sleeping in for me.

After cards, coffee and candy we showed Matt the kid show, then they left and I worked on my lesson for the week, blogged, watched Asia Pacific, slept.

December 26th: muslim noodles and horror films

Day 100

Woke still not quite feeling good, but better than the previous day. Still no internet, which was aggravating. Erin, Matt and I took a cab to Dongzhou, went in and woke Lindsey to demand she take us to the muslim noodle place.

She led us through the school to the back gate and along the street to a closed door and a seemingly closed noodle place. Bad news. I walked right up to the glass door however, and they slid it open, bade us enter. Victory.

The mustached chap in the kufi kneaded a great wad of dough, alternately twisting and slamming it on the metal slab forming it into sets of noodles. At first they tried to serve us a bowl of stuffs, which Lindsey said was a lesser dish. So we sent that bowl back had them bring the plated goodness, but they tried to give Erin meat, so we got our meal on while she waited for veggie-only noodleness. They gave us some curry-cilantro soup that actually had some flavor. (All other soups I've had in China have been basically hot water with bland stuff floating in it.)

When we all had dined, we headed out for a bit of shopping. It had begun to lightly drizzle some rain. My button guy still had no fresh buttons. He's fired. Erin picked up a coat, and when it came time for Matt to get his, he wasn't feeling it. Erin started pressuring him to go ahead and get it, but he wasn't happy with it. Lindsey and I went next door to the accessories place while they bickered. Matt held his own, the coat stayed at the store.

I got a really funny CD case for Sara Jett. There is far too much cute funny cat-related gear here, but I had to get this.

After the light shopping, we stopped by UBC for refreshments. I had pizza and orange juice. When the girl dropped off my juice it had a big red stir stick in it that looked like a thermometer. I took it out, but when she came back she did a pantomime of how to use it. It was cute. Every time she came back to the table I stuck it in and stirred, demonstrating and teasing at the same time. She smiled.

Erin and Matt took a cab back to the school, while Lindsey and I watched "Shaun of the Dead" (outstanding) and then "Saw" (whoof!). It was just what I needed to satiate my horror gland. I pedaled back and the internet was back up, so I caught up on blogging, turned in for the night.

December 25th: Sad Xmas

Day 99

Woke in Lindsey's stiff bed, clothes smoky, teeth fuzzy, hair like Jack Nicholson after a temper tantrum. I felt like someone used me as an accordion. I croaked, "Do you have any water?" Merry Christmas.

We tried to feel a hundred percent again for a couple hours. I played my Lino songs for her online, and we watched the end of "The Matrix." When at last hunger won the battle against laziness, we walked down to UBC for a Christmas banquet of pizza. It kicked ass, better than the hotel's pizza by far. Better crust, better flavored sauce, everything. I woozed in my sofa seat, ready to sleep, cry, rub my face, kill the speakers for blasting awful carols. They were the kind sung by Brylcream'd men and women in horrible sweaters grinning away their Christianity and coupon-clipped goodwill towards men. In China at least I won't be privy to the abhorrent "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" and all its NASCAR-fart joke shit-kicking it's-ok-to-be-ignorant glee. That song hurts America.

We walked back and swung by Kedu.Ipicked up some wine for Matt and Erin, a bunch of candy for my good students. Then Lindsey and I parted ways. I took a cab back to the school and my dude had a remix of S.H.E.'s "Superstar" on the hifi. I nodded to him, pointed to the stereo, said "S.H.E.?" He nodded back. That song is ubiquitous.

At the gate I asked if I had any packages by raising my shoulders. My guy waved me off. I got back to my room and a card had fallen off the chair and opened, so I was greeted by a dying-battery Casio version of "Fur Elise." Matt and Erin weren't in, and the power was out in my main room, so no coffee, no computer, no hot water for a shower. Jenn called, wished me a Merry Christmas. I would have liked to have talked to her longer but she was a few Guinness to the wind and had to turn in from an exhausting day of present delivering to her girls.

I started going batshit in my room. I went over to the arts building, ran through my entire repertoire. I forgot the words of some of the older songs I haven't done in a while. Almost conjured some words for the "whiskey stomp" tune. It's extremely catchy.

I got back, still no Erin and Matt, the power was back but the internet was down. There was a note from Nigel that he had a "small parcel" for me, but both he and Shi's bikes were gone, and so then were they. I lounged on my bed using the stuffed dog (who needs a name badly) as a body pillow, watched V8 super car racing, felt sad. There was no way to contact Lindsey without computer. I couldn't call anybody in America because the school phone wouldn't work with my phone card. Even if I could, it was late and they were asleep.

Erin knocked later on, came in. I was still hugging the dog and watching TV. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Having a sad Christmas."

She and Matt were fixing pasta and it took a long time to boil water in the freezing kitchen. I ate a few pieces of candy to stave off hunger, the Chinese equivalent of Chik-o-stiks. NIgel knocked, gave me my package: a small box from my parents, just in time. It contained a tiny bear ornament, some buckeyes and kickass fruitcake.

We ate pasta with small undercooked peas and tomato sauce, had some wine. I still felt bad. Nigel knocked midmeal and gave a lecture about the kitchen stuff they had used, identifying what was school property and what was he and Shi's shit. He is unbearably excrutiating.

I watched "Secrets of World War II", dozed off, dreamt of zombies.

Stuck in Cincy

due to inclement weather, i won't be heading to my parents' house this weekend. i'm also stuck at my apartment, as my hearse, as you might imagine, is not well suited for snowy weather.

so yeah, i'm entertaining myself with downloading music. check out these guys: NESkimos. they play metal renditions of Nintendo songs. and well, i might add. i particularly like the "Bionic Commando" tunes.

December 24th: student appreciation & Xmas Eve at the club

Day 98

If any doubts over my teaching or my students' appreciation had been cast by the newly christened apathy crew, they were vanquished in an onslaught of cards, gifts and cuteness today. In 1(7), they sprayed me with red and blue silly string, had a small tree for me, tons of cards, a snow globe. I was very touched.Throughout the lesson I pulled bits of string off me.

In the Pete/Jimmy/Simon class, I was given a round red disc hand warmer which they all must have chipped in for. We plugged it in before class and when the light went off, it was ready. I slipped it in the felt sleeve and walked around with it during the eye exercise. As I passed by, the students all reached out and felt it like it was the orb from Woody Allen's "Sleeper."

DJ Wishywashy surprised me today. Usually he changes his mind or just repeats whatever I say, but when I asked the class collectively if they were naughty or nice he was the only one who answered "Nice." His first moment of conviction. I laughed.

For dinner, we went to the hotel and Lindsey met us there. Afterwards we played cards for a while. I taught them 3-up 3-down, the official card game of Moab. We need another deck of cards for four people, though.

We then decided to go to the club in case Alen's big merry christmas party was that night. We caught a cab for two blocks and Lindsey went to her dorm to change pants while Matt and I ate dumplings.

When we got to the club, the bouncers at the gate insisted we pay the cover, which was $38. Fuck that. While we stood and debated that I should pay it, then go in and find the owner to get everyone else in, the owner came out and pulled us all through. He made a pantomime for me to go MC. This from the guy that stalker Linda said hated me. Someone's lying here.

The staff was all adorned in Santa hats, and all the people were walking around with a tiny stuffed Santa (thus the outrageous cover). Alen started playing nauseatng house remixes of Jingle Bells and such. We sat at our usual table and were joined by Sisi and Mao Tat, who we have learned two things about: His name is Thunder, and he is Sisi's brother. At one point, Thunder called over a girl who sat in my lap and kissed my cheek. He was trying to give me a prostitute. No sale.

Sisi kept calling out "Gam bei" (bottoms up) and the Suntory pitchers kept disappearing and replenishing. By the end of the evening, I was feeling a bit woozy. Erin and Matt bailed, but Lindsey and I were marched via Sisi to the restaurant of post-Reeb lore. Thunder ordered foodstuffs and Sisi kept pouring and saying "Gam bei." Finally I had to put a capper on my evening. I thanked Thunder, wished everyone a Merry Christmas (I think) and got up.

hotel girl n toast


toast takes a bride


alen / mystery girls / toast


sisi n lindsey


mystery girl n toast


sisi n toast

Lindsey and I walked back to her dorm and I drank some coffee to try and sober up for the walk home, but I ended up passing out.

December 23rd: the near-catastrophic Xmas program

Day 97

Woke, blogged, pedaled out to the paper store and got some spongy yellow stuff to make submarines.

As I taught, I was reminded of something a few days ago. At one point in class, a kid shut the window, said something like "Canada."

"Canada?" I asked. "That's that way (pointed), unless that's north. Is that north? If that's north, then up there is Russia. Whoa. Russia is north of us. We're in China! That's crazy! Isn't that crazy?"

They didn't think it was as crazy as I did.

Before dinner I drew and cut out seven submarines while doing laundry. THe Sharpie fumes made me a little light-headed and then headachey. After dinner I geared up for the program. The Santa suit fit, and I tucked a pillow in for St. Nick's jolly gut.

At 6:15 I walked over in full Father Christmas regalia, hoping the flimsy drawstring wouldn't break under the extra strain of the pillow. They had a laptop and a projector set up near the piano, rows of those odd colored boxes to sit on for chairs.

Steven MC'd in English and then the art teacher repeated everything in Chinese. They had the reverb up way too much. They sounded like they were officiating a monster truck rally. I was waiting for them to give me the mic so I could yell out: "What's up, school? Everybody say ho!.........ho ho!!!!!" but the opportunity never arose.

Lindsey showed and all the Anglo-saxons were made to sit up front and Steven addressed us: "Welcome our foreign guests er Nigel, David, Lindsey, Erin and Erin's boyfriend."

Erin's kids were adorable, with more endearing enthusiasm than singing ability. When the time came for Erin to sing "Twinkle twinkle little star" in Chinese, the place was the quietest all night, and then they exploded in applause. She was rewarded with a huge stuffed dog. I laughed. Good luck taking that back on the plane.

I played "Jingle Bells" with my kids, but couldn't hear what I was playing and I messed up a couple times. When the time came for me to play "Steady," the recipe for disaster was there, but I made it through with only one errant note, and it still worked, made a jazz chord. I had a fake beard I couldn't really see out of, a pillow in my gut, a microphone thrust in my face, kids talking around me, kids opening the piano top and looking inside and I was able to block all of it out. I am so ready to play out when I get back.

I was also rewarded with a huge stuffed dog. D'oh! Oh well, it'll make a good body pillow. For "Yellow Submarine" I could barely hear my singers but I heard a good deal of kids in the audience singing along, too. That was cool.

There were games and riddles in between the songs and the program ended up being two hours long. A particularly dangerous time was a game where kids tied balloons to their ankles and had to stomp on each other's balloons, the one with the most at the end wins. So imagine a moshpit of whirling, stomping, spinning Chinese kids sliding in wider arcs towards the laptop and projector, limbo-ing under cords. Stressful. I was boxed in by primary students with only a piano bench for cover.

No accidents happened, miraculously. At the end of everything I was supposed to throw out candies. I surveyed the masses and knew I was going to get mobbed. My plan of attack was to get halfway up a staircase and toss to them below, keeping myself out of harm's way. I was still mobbed on the stairs.

As soon as I threw the first handful, kids slammed into both sides of me, tearing at me, clawing at my plastic bag. Reason went out the window. I twisted this way and that, threw candies at maniacally eager faces. Finally, I just upended the bag over the edge of the stairs, watched kids below become a pirahna cloud of elbow-throwing scavengers. Had I not been on the staircase, it would have been a lot worse.

Their energy was scary. I went back to my room, changed, tried to cleanse myself of the frantic vibe. Erin and Matt turned in to drink wine and watch BBC. Lindsey and I went to Dongzhou to watch a DVD and drink beer. As I pedaled her up there, I regaled her with Montana & McDeviltoast classics such as "Ickerdoodlesnay," "I Wear the Pants," "There Will Be No Pooping in the Future," "Punishment Horse," etc. I can't wait to get back and record them.

We watched "Just One of the Guys," a movie had never seen, but had always noticed in every video store I've ever been in. Hopefully now that I've watched it, it can go away. It had some good quotes to sample: "Welcome to the 80's" and "Where do you get off having tits?"

Pedaled home, tried to think of a name for my new dog, fell asleep.

QEG news

hey, here's a quick note from dj empirical. he has some news from the Quahogs Entertainment Group (of which I am a part).

hello from the QEG! dj empirical here, with a few newsworthy bits of information.

first, schädel wanted me to thank everyone who came out to see The Black Fives at the Mockbee on monday. There were a ton of people there, and that always makes the show better! Rumor has it that the live recording from that show will be available sometime soon; we'll let you know.

plus, there are a couple pictures up from the recent Paperback cd release show that i played at. check it out here.

also, today (12/22) marks my first bit of published journalism! theoretically (since I haven't seen it yet), today's edition of CityBeat, a local free paper, should contain my interview with Spencer Yeh of Burning Star Core, recent winner of a 2004 Cincinnati Entertainment Award in the category of Experimental/Electronic. It's free, so pick it up and check it out, in the column "Locals Only". (Thanks to Spencer!)

if you're in need of something a bit out-of-the-ordinary to listen to, i also recently curated an online mp3 compilation. it contains over a dozen mp3s of illegal (e.g., sample collage), experimental, and unusual music, including the entire live set from The Black Fives in Cleveland from october. Oh, and even though the mp3s are free, please, if you enjoy the tracks, support the artists! with a few exceptions, these artists are all, for the most part, NOT rich, and depend on sales to eat. sometimes
literally.
(Thanks to Philo of illegal art for the opportunity!)
http://www.detritus.net/illegalart/mp3s/

I think that's all the news for now. Feel free to email me or check the website (quahogs-ent.com) for more info.

later!
--dj empirical--

pics below

all kinds of new pics all over the place in december.

scroll down; you'll see 'em.

pics from matt's initiation

matt n erin reunited


toast n lindsey


rock poledancer


harder than diamonds


erin rock's middle name is crack


mcdeviltoast n matt


spent erin in galoshes

December 22nd: 70's in the classroom and Matt's initiation

Day 96

Two times today, 70's rock made itself present in the classroom. At the beginning of one class, I thumped on the desk, which all teh students imitated, then I had them follow my thump-thump clap, thump-thump-clap...

"Buddy you're a boy make a big noise playin' in the street gonna take on the world someday you got mud on your face, big disgrace, kickin' your can all over the place singing we will we will rock you!"

It was hard to get them to calm down after that. I'll have to play it for them the alst week I'm here. Then, in the Harry and Monkey class, one kid up front wasn't writing anything down as I was explaining naughty and nice. I pointed him out, "Are you gettin' this, guy? You writing all this down?"

He nodded, flipped a page with writing open. I walked over to investigate and he was trying to show me words from a lesson two weeks ago. "Ah! You are lying to Mr. Willis! Guy! That's supernaughty!"

I wrote supernaughty on the board, then saw the word, started singing the guitar riff from Black Sabbath's "Supernaut" at them. "Supernaughty!" I may be losing my mind. I blame that Reeb night.

I was bestowed three cards today, two identical reading: (all misspellings intact)"Congratulations. Autumh sunshin? I can do my best beacuse I have someam to natch me. Best wisehs for you." The inside says "Happy to you" and plays a little casio tone birthday song. I sang over it to myself since it is for Christmas: "Merry Christmas to me, Merry Chistmas Mr. Willis, Merry Christmas to me." The other card has a zombie cowboy and giger alien on the front, while the inside is a pop-up of bloody pirate skeletons and the clown from Spawn wearing an indicipherable T-shirt. The top simply says: "Best." Weirdest Christmas card I've ever received.


After classes I met Matt and we all sat around reading magazines for a bit. The weather was absolutely dreadful. I pedaled over to the arts building for rehearsal in cold wind and ice needle rain. They had begun decorating the place with flower garlands and such. Rose watched as I ran through the songs, asked how I wanted the kids arranged. I shrugged. I was one Santa hat short, so I told Alice I would buy her one that evening.

We braved the elements in order to get dumplings (I was going through withdrawl) and we only had to walk a short distance before a cab picked us up. One cab prior to that passed by one way and then the other way, trying to decide at which angle we looked most pathetic.

Lindsey met us at the dumpling house and we were wet despite umbrellas and cab. Matt got his first taste of dumplings and Suntory. We ate all but 2 on a big plate of 30. It was too early to go to the club, so we went for massage in the meantime, and my god, it was delicious murder.

The girl I had before must have been new and inexperienced because this girl blew her away. She did the trick of squeezing all the blood out of my hand and then brushing the length of my palm with her hair. It felt like touching the softest material in the world with every nerve ending at full attention. I moaned "Xie xie ni" like it was a mantra.

She squeezed and worked my calves like they were bags of pudding. At one point she came dangerously close to cracking the cartilage in my ears. This is in the top ten list of fastest ways to become Aaron Willis's villain. (Also in the top ten: pinching Aaron Willis, drawing on Aaron Willis, playing Journey in front of Aaron Willis)

When I flipped over, she mercilessly yanked at the meat under my shoulderblade (I believe it's called the oyster). I thought she was looking for a place to put a hook. But hey, no pain no gain. The after-effects were pleasing, but maybe because I wasn't in pain anymore it seemed like pleasure.

Woozy and spent, we shuffled into the cold rain down to Alen's club. We were led to our "usual" table (the may gua hren area) and I went up and said hi to Alen. He was playing some slower tempo stuff and he gave me the mic so I rapped for a bit. Pitchers of Suntory were waiting for me when I got back to the table. We toasted to Matt's arrival. Jack came over and joined us for a bit. I asked where Angela was and he pointed, said some stuff, and I caught "Shanghai."

Erin, in her cups much more than us danced (in her yellow galoshes) up on the monitors and poles. Alen announced over the speakers: "Elin! Is dancer! Sexy dancer!" Lindsey and Erin went to the green room and later said they were forced at knifepoint (drunken justification lies) to do shots of bijoh (THE original nectar of satan). Alen offered me bijoh up at the DJ pulpit and I asked, "What is it?"

"Whiskey."

"Whiskey?" I smelled it. Whiskey ain't clear. "Is this bijoh?"

He nodded and I handed it back. Knifepoint indeed.

Alen told us several times: "Saturday. Merry Christmas. Big party." We thanked him, said ok. When the dance floor cleared and they started sweeping up, Alen played some stuff while we westerners breakdanced.

I think it was a grand intitiation for Matt into Haimen culture proper. Dumplings, massage, clubbing, cab ride.

It was good to get in from the cold, even better to sleep.

your package

i got your package! I love it ding dang do! yours will be shipped by next week. Steve and i are going shopping tommorrow! Winter is treating me well. and you!?

December 21st: Santa lesson and the third class breakdown

Day 95

Woke, blogged, taught, had lunch. The first class after lunch was horrible. They had no energy, didn't pay attention, didn't repeat anything I told them to and weren't amused by me singing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" in the style of Sinatra. They read books, played with stickers, joked with each other (silently) played with their translators.

One girl asked a question at the beginning of class. She was the only one who participated. When the class ground to a halt, I stood and stared them all down. Two guys were up front joking with each other and I asked one, "What's funny, guy? What is it? What is funny?"

He turned around to see if I was looking at the nonexistent person behind him. "No, you guy. When I'm looking at YOU that means I'm talking to YOU. What is funny?"

Silence.

"Are you tired? Bored? sick? What is it? Do you not like me? Is my class no fun?" I waved my hand to indicate certain students, narrated for them, "No, Mr. Willis we want to read books and play with stickers, talk to each other."

I silenced with them for a minute.

"Do you not want me to teach? Do you not like me?"

En masse: "Yes."

"Yes, you don't like me?"

En masse: "No."

I shook my head, stared. The uncomfortable stagnance was horrible. They must have been in cold sweats. I felt like I was going to lose it.

"Anyone have any questions?"

One boy was urged to raise his hand. I gestured at him. "Yes?"

"Who is your favorite football player?"

Sighing with disgust that the question was not anywhere near the subject of Christmas I curtly hissed, "Beckham. Any other questions?"

Silence. No one looked back at me. I shook my head, grabbed my backpack and left. There was probably a few more minutes of class but my hand had cramps from metaphorically pulling teeth. I went to the nearest teacher's office, put my head on the desk.

After a couple minutes I got up, went to the balcony, tried to find something beautiful about the day. I heard footsteps running up to me and the girl, the only girl in that class who had participated handed me a card, said "Sorry," and ran off again.

The card was pink and read on the outside: Give you a small card and a kind greeting and wish you a happy every day. Good lucky.
On the inside: Mr. Will, Merry Christmas, Sorry! Rong Lei."

I wanted to cry but I think my anger kept it back. I had to steel myself for the apathy crew next. As I sat and collected myself, Rose came in, said something like, "You are too tired to teach today?"

"No, it's just that my class would not speak when I told them to speak, they would not participate, they read books and didn't pay attention. I don't know what else to do."

"Which class?"

"2(7). There was one girl who was a good student." I showed her the card, then she went down there. What she said or did have no idea.

I went in to teach the apathy crew and they had energy and were good, although I did have to preface the class with, "Put the newspapers away, guy. Do not read. Do not spin books on your finger. Do not talk when I talk." But by mid-class we were all laughing. They are no longer the apathy crew. They are the rascals. 2(7) is the new apathy crew, my most dreaded class, except for Rong Lei.

Dinner was not my favorite. I rehearsed with only five students, (apparently the teachers wouldn't let the others go) and I had to Mission:Impossible my way into one of the piano rooms from outside because they were all locked again.

Afterwards, I went to meet Lindsey at the dumpling house, then to Kedu for Santa hats (for the program) then to Lindsey's to watch "Buffalo Soldiers" (excellent film) and "Batman Returns." Pedaled home, had kickass hot chocolate, tried to stay up for when Erin and Matt got in.

December 20th: coldest Monday yet

Day 94

Woke to knocking, shuffled out of bed, saw a note under my door. As I read it, another knock. Erin. She needed me to take Lindsey and Ethan to lunch because Matt was calling with his flight information. She ran off to meet them at the gate.

I brushed my teeth, put on clothes and pedaled groggily to the gate. We stood in the cold for fifteen minutes. An arctic wind had descended, this was unpleasant. Finally they came, from inside the school. At the same time we walked up to the gate they had just gotten there and were knocking on our doors.

Erin rushed off for her phone call and I took them to the hotel. Ethan loved the pizza and the adorable staff. He said it was a good thing he hadn't known of the hotel when he was teaching in Haimen because his paycheck would have evaporated there.

We trundled back to my room and after showing them "Kidshow 2" Erin collected Ethan for her classes' show-n-tell. I walked with Lindsey over to the Hai Nan Middle School, said "hi" to her class, fielded a few questions before taking off.

I blogged for a bit, chatted with Steve, then Lindsey showed up again and I showed her a cavalcade of amusing short films on the 'net, had some amazing hot chocolate that Jenn sent.

Ethan said goodbye before taking his bus back, said Erin's kids asked him stuff like, "Why aren't your teeth white like Ms. Rock's?" told him he had a pig nose, and one boy pumped a fist and exclaimed in Chinese: "Your mother is great!" after learning she was a jewelry maker. Lindsey said, "One guess what his mom does for a living."

As I went over to get dinner at the dining hall, Erin made fun of my fleece with the reindeer on it. It does look a little silly, but it's very warm and cozy, and contextually, I can get away with it better in the desert.

"That's because there's no one around to make fun of it," she jibed.

Ate with Harry and Monkey, had rice and the peanut/celery medley. I went to the arts building early to play some songs for Lindsey to test if my new playing and singing prowess could be done with someone there listening. Yes is the answer, but it was different. I was a little self-conscious. I got through five songs before the kids showed up, then Lindsey left and we rolled through Jingle Bells and Yellow Submarine again.

Afterwards Erin and I went to Lindsey's to watch "The Grudge" and "Brain Candy." "The Grudge" was alright, had some good scares, the ending felt tacked-on, though.

We ate some fried tofu procured from "Sandy's" across the street. Quite tasty. I had some more amazing hot chocolate, then we pedaled home in the bitter cold to snug warm roomness.

I put together a lesson plan and a vocab list, turned in.

December 19th: dumpling addiction and massage

Day 93

Woke in time to grab lunch at the dining hall: rice and potatoes. Blogged for a bit, then Erin knocked on my door all ravenous, so I agreed to take her to the dumpling house.

Lindsey met us there, and the staff informed Erin they were out of vegetarian dumplings, only to ask her how many of the remaining 18 she wanted after sitting. Mixed signals.

After our brief repast, we tried once again to show Erin the end of Alien 3, but we're beginning to suspect her brain gives off some frequency that screws up DVD encoding, because it froze and glitched up again. Lindsey's friend Danny made a cameo in our afternoon, introducing himself just long enough to depart on a bus back to wherever. Ethan returned from noodle quest and we watched "Wicker Park," drank BBoss, and made fun of Josh Hartnett.

Suddenly it was dark and we took our tipsy selves, at my suggestion, to the grand reopening of the Times supermarket. The place was packed with holiday hordes. A Santa-suited chap gave us calendars. We moved like cattle through the aisles just long enough to remind me of the kind of mall-hell I was presently avoiding in the states. We then filed en masse across the street to Kedu and I got some cookies that Ethan promised were a flavorful of kickass. Then, back to the dumpling house for dinner. Erin and I are dumpling junkies. We need help.

How did we get from lunch to suddenly preparing for a pre-club massage? Who knows, but we took a cab to a massage parlor and soon we were all being kneaded and rubbed (fully clothed, ahem). My girl wasn't especially good at the limbs, but she did a sort of "spine-braiding" that felt wonderful. Ethan worked out a deal with his girl to trade massages for English lessons.

There was no untoward grabbing, but I think an accidental package brush-up happened during a buttock knead, the fault lying in boxers not keeping junk secure.

We took another cab to Andy's club and Ethan immediately decreed its suckiness. An "I told you so" wasn't even applicable, we had told him plenty of times. However, now we had to drink four pitchers, and two baskets of sweetened popcorn (compliments of the owner) so we tried to make the best of it.

Ethan bellowed: "This music sucks!" to the Chinese R&B, showed a thumbs-down to no one in particular. Johnny and Stuart returned behind the decks and immediately put in "Hit Me Baby One More Time." I shook my head. Out of the toilet and into the cesspool.

It picked up, and I MC'd, wrecked my vocal chords doing a kind of raspy dancehall reggae-style rap. When the club shut down we sat up front drinking with Andy, whom Ethan constantly refrerred to as "Bitch." Ethan pointed out a sullen girl sitting at the bar whose name is Dom, as in dominatrix. She's the most expensive hooker in the club because she's "a bitch and likes to give pain." A beefy gent was pointed out as her boyfriend AKA "the one who doesn't pay."

I went to the bathroom and when I came back Andy was hanging on Ethan and a conversation went something like this:

Andy: "But I no want to fuck you."
Ethan: "You shouldn't have to explain that. That should be already understood."
Andy: "I love you..."
Ethan: "Yes, but don't tell me that you... just don't say it!"

We arm-wrestled with Andy who is surprisingly strong, but then I met his massively muscular father and understood. When we had finished the beer and the peanuts, we went to Ming Tien, and despite looking closed insisted they serve us.

To stave off room-spinny, I played piano, tried to sing but my voice was shot from the rasta-yell MCing. I went back to the table and punished a basket of cold fries. Erin and Ethan wore stupid Christmas hats and basked in their Candianosity. (I was the only American in our bunch, far out.)

We took a cab back to Dongzhou and I walked Lindsey to the gate while Ethan and Erin got a table at the outdoor tent place. I pedaled off, ready for bed.

Slept and had weird stressful dreams about trying to find the ultimate rhyme for "multivitamin." "Cult of fighting men" was as close as I got.

December 18th: Saturday of new friends and dumplings

Day 92

Had lucid dreams where I was bragging that I knew when I was having lucid dreams, but I didn't know I was having one at the time and woke confused.

Blogged a bit, had the final cup of coffee. The weather was like a Rod Stewart song: grey, wet and raining. Erin woke around 3pm and we pedaled our way to the hotel for sustenance. There was a full staff of Chinese girls behind the bar and they were awestruck by Erin, fawning: "You are very beautiful."

Erin replied, "No no no no, YOU are very beautiful. Piao liang. Piao liang."

I ordered company sandwich, but I was really hungry. I told Erin, "I don't think company sandwich is going to be enough. I need like big media conglomerate sandwich or something."

She gave me some of her pizza which tasted like someone spilled a bottle of oregano, and used the crust to wipe it up.

I pedaled to the jacket place to return the "rented" one and retrieve my rightful one. It still wasn't done, so I sat while they sewed buttons on. I wrote in my notebook, became obsessed with the word "poison" for seven minutes. Then I pedaled to the supermarket and got coffee, wine and strawberries. At the banquet, they had the best strawberries I've tasted since childhood. They didn't look particularly red or big, but the flavor was incredible. O, strawberries, I love thee but I must eat thee, favorite fruit o mine.

The day wasn't bright to begin with, but the grey haze was fading fast. Dusk is dangerous as Chinese drivers are reluctant to turn on lights until there is absolutely no light left. They will flip their headlights on for a second but immediately switch them off again. Add wet pavement to this and my anxiety skyrockets.

Lindsey's friend Ethan (another Canadian teacher who used to teach at Dongzhou) arrived from "Nanjing." (Editor's note: It was printed before that Lindsey was American. She is Canadian. Apologies.)

I pedaled up to meet the Dongzhou posseand the guard kept giving the hand signal for "ten." I couldn't figure what he was on about, initially thinking he was trying to collect a cover charge. He was informing me that I needed to leave by 10pm.

Ethan, Lindsey and I went to the dumpling place, a lovely round green eatery with a tree in the middle upon which children ascended. Ethan lives "outside of Nanjing" which to the Chinese means and "hour and a half bus ride."

"If they tell you, you're 'right outside a major city', don't believe them," he said.

"Maybe it has something to do with scale," I laughed. "This country's massive, so perspective-wise they may consider it 'right outside.'"

Lindsey held up her fingers, shrugged. "It's only this far on a map."

The dumplings were awesome, but the spicy sauce wasn't as good as in Suzhou. It was more like just orange oil.

We collected some beer and Red Bull at Kedu, watched the end of Alien 3 while Ethan showered, and it still wonked up, just not as severely, so it was mostly watchable. We listened to some Flying Frog Brigade and I started listing concerts I had seen for some reason.

We headed to the club telling Erin to meet us there at 10:30. Once there, we were ushered to a big table, bade to sit. I went up and told Alen we were there and he announced me over the speakers, pointed out a girl dancing on the monitors. "She is dancer. Sheng Sheng."

"Feng Feng?" I joked.

"No, no Feng Feng" he laughed.

These double names kill me. I pointed where we were sitting and told him to come join us when he had a break. We drank pitchers of not-Reeb, Ethan and Mike got a couple girls to sit with us. Alen brought over Sheng Sheng and she knew no English. I smiled, parlez'd what little Chinese I know and then she left. Erin joined us, and new toasts were made.

When Alen went back, I MC'd for him on one monitor, Ethan danced on the other one. We blazed through "It's Tricky" and other stuff, and before I knew it, the place was cleared out.

We headed to the outdoor tent place, had more of those tasty pumpkin cakes on sticks, some Chinese hash browns, rice with orange bits in it. I woozed in my chair and didn't feel so well. I took a walk to clear my head, collected my bike from the middle school, said goodbye to the people and pedicabbed Erin back trying not to eat shit on the slick tarmac.

Slept hard.

pics from the banquet

banquet hall


x-mas cellists


aaron n dee snider


erin's veggies


divine n aaron


michael moore n john wayne


group shot


renee n dice girl


mike n aaron


andy n heather


renee n dice girl


bardance


more bardance


still more bardance


dice girl n james


out cold


aaron n dennis


erin: barfly.

December 17th: the great Nantong Xmas banquet

Day 91


Taught three of four classes, the fourth was cancelled so the kids could go home early.

Shaved my cheeks and neck, tried to make my hair look managed. It's at a stage where it's a little past just being back and sticking up, but not quite long enough to behave. No matter what I did, it was a cuckoo nest.

We loaded into the school's minivan and stopped at the gate to pick up a parcel for me. It was from Jenn, had photos, an ornament, some exquisite hot chocolate (to which Nigel asked, "Oh, do you enjoy hot chocolate?" Idiot.) and at long last some nag champa incense. I can at last make my living space be filled with the soothing scent of a million blissful evenings spent in #6.

There were a couple things for Erin, too. "Oh my god, how nice," she exclaimed.

"See, that's why Jenn rules." She does. She's the blue star.

We picked up the primary headmaster and her daughter only to drop them off at a different hotel. So I didn't get to thank her for the evening of Brazilian weirdness.

We continued on and piled out into a lavish banquet hall, round numbered tables filled the floor and on the far side of the hall, Chinese kids were performing and singing carols. We were led to .21, next to the Dongzhou posse. I greeted all of them in turn, although Alaianna seemed more interested in her mobile phone the whole time. I've decided I don't care for her. Rhys has told me she's said some pretty damaging things about Lindsey and I've asked Erin if I should be a beacon of truth, but she said that since Lindsey was so close to leaving, to let it go.

At the table, little bowls of foodstuffs were on a revolving glass disc, my favorite being some chicken resembling almonds with oil and cilantro. It was my favorite until I found something sharp in it. I have moderation karma. If I try to be gluttonous, something like that happens. Mostly it's nutshells in desserts. I am notorious for finding nutshells in things that may have just had a passing glance at nuts.

The dignitaries made speeches, the mayor and such, soon BBoss was being poured, and my dude did not let the level fall most of the night. The stage of the banquet where the crab came out, I waved it off. Rose then told the "baby" story to two women in Chinese and they looked at me and laughed.

Certain members of the orchestra stood up and were identified as "centenarians" (hundred year olds, not half-horse people) and damn could they play the hell out of some ehru.

A chap from California came up and introduced himself. I was about to tell him Dee Snider was on a white courtesy phone demanding his hair back. He regaled us with how he'd been to Akron, was giving up teaching to practice law again and how his second ex-wife was from Minneapolis. Erin took a picture of us in mid-smileprep (mouth beginning to turn up, brow half lifted) and we look far more pickled than we actually were.

A black gent nearby removed neither his leather duster, nor his outback hat during the entire meal. I was calling him LL Cool J Peterman before I learned his name was "Divine." He's from Scotland, speaks fluent French, had an unidentifiable accent.

I met a man from South Africa while outside getting air, who had been to the states: chiefly Kansas. I offered my condolences.

Concluding the banquet, I had quite a BBoss bbuzz on. A group of the Nantongers and the Dongzhouers were going to a bar. Erin negotiated with Rose to see if we could stay, and she ok'd it, reminding us to be safe. She's so adorable. Nigel was gathering uneaten crabs off other people's tables to take home to Shi. So ghetto.

All of us stood around trying to organize the exodus. I put on my aviators and a portly, toasted gent who looked like a hatless, disheveled Michael Moore immediately said, "Who is this nondescript Middle Eastern man?"

I got into accent mode: "Hello, buddy. How are you, buddy? Ok, fuck you my friend."

A stumbling man with the title of drunkest man in Nantong came swerving into our midst and Mike acted as my interpreter, told dude I was from Uzbekistan.

"Ooze-kistan?" the man slobbered, "Alright, how are you?"

Mike rattled some gibberish to me, and I nodded, turned to guy and said, "I am alright, buddy. I love America, John wayne, bang howdy partner, Coca cola baseball joe."

We had him going for a few minutes, then found Erin more interesting, started hanging on her, so Mike and I intervened with our bit. We took pictures so Erin could escape, listened to him do a John Wayne impression.

"Ok, buddy! I love the John Wayne America bang howdy partner! Rio bravo two mules for sister sarah bang bang!"

At last we ambled our way down the winding driveway of the hotel. Michael Moore was Welsh, had a pompous air from which I could not distinguish what was personality and what was Madame Fermented Grape. Outside of the bar, he intentionally shoved two bicycles to the ground. I found him unpleasant and avoided him once in the bar. Later on, I snapped a pic of him face down on the bar's couch, leg hanging askew from a long-ago attempt to stand. It was a poignant scene.

The bar was called "Extreme" to which I asked, "Is that the name or an adjective? I mean, am I going to walk in and there's going to be nipple clamps, ballgags, cattle prods, and some guy cutting lines of ecstasy on a hooker's ass crack, or is it just the name?"

It was name only, thankfully. Dim with electric Christmas regalia, hardwood floors, booths, long bartop, upon which Erin and a German named Adrian danced later.

Mike, Heather and I played that dice drinking game for a bit with two Chinese girls, one we named Renee. The other, Heather said (she is quite fluent in Chinese), didn't want one.

"We're just like Christopher Columbus coming in and renaming everything, aren't we?" I teased. "But, it's not like that. They like it. It's fun. I have a Chinese name, Dao Wei."

They giggled at that. I see it as an exchange of cultures, an exercise in international communication, a fun way to break the ice. I'm sure some people are renaming people in a conquest, lazy American-tongued way, but not this guy. My motives are pure.

The night was winding down and I was ready to take a cab back to Haimen. Erin wanted food first so we piloted a three cab convoy to the "Hard Rock" (no, not affiliated with the global franchise of the same name) shot some pool and ate some noodles. They put a Queen disc on the hifi, to my delight and it sounded so good after enduring an evening of Chinese pop and bad mall punk like Jimmy Eat World and Good Charlotte. I finally got to hear two Queen songs I'd never heard before: "Thank God It's Christmas" and "No-One But You." Forgettable. No wonder they're rare.

We went to the bar where all the boys went in a stretch called "the shipyard area." The bar was seedy-looking, there was a stripper pole on the stage, and each of our guys had a girl at his elbow talking and smiling.

This was the kind of scene I wanted to avoid. I don't like the sex industry, despite knowing it's the world's oldest profession, acknowledging its necessity. When abroad, it's a different monster. Were not talking about a lonely man needing some sort of human contact. Americans or Europeans in a less wealthy country trolling for prostitutes is about something else: power. There's a fantasy of being the big important man throwing dollars around and getting what you want, and of indulging fetishes (I think some men have a "sexual scorecard" and want to check off every ethnic category) When sex is chiefly about ego and power, it's cut from the same cloth as rape, and that's the ugliest thing imagineable. To remove everything beautiful and otherworldly from the supreme act of love, to nail its tail to the earth and turn it into some advert balloon over a used car lot turns my stomach. I waited outside and tried to think of good things, sobriety back like a clammy fever.

Heather finagled a cab for 60 yuen for us. Erin, Lindsey and I rode back, the others stayed and did whatever. The original taxi guy gave us to his friend who was having a rough night, then that guy gave us to someone else after a few minutes of driving. I vaguely wondered if we were going to get home at all, the taxi exchange acting as a kind of transportational telephone call game, where "these three are going to haimen for 60 yuen" turned into "these men are high, drive them for sixty minutes and then let them out."

I dozed and came to when we were outside Dongzhou Middle School. Erin talked the guy to our school and I handed 60 yuen up to her. We shuffled in, my dude at the gate out cold.

Lit some nag champa, slept.

December 16th: jacket stress and piano hassle

day 90

Classes were alright, although I kept having to stare down two guys who were talking and several students were making little clay projects on their desk.

I rode out at after lunch to have a sportcoat made so I can attend this banquet with style. After measuring and giving thumbs up, the dude tried to pantomime it would take five days to finish. I explained I needed it for a party tomorrow (I wish I'd brought the invitation to show) and told him I'd be back at 5pm today. He nodded like he understood.

I pedaled back, taught the remaining two classes. I rode back after a hastily eaten dinner and strolled into the shop. I shrugged to indicate, "where is my jacket?" and the lady made a gesture it would be ready at 5pm tomorrow. AAGGHHHH! I explained that tonight I would be in Nantong (Ok, a lie, but it conveyed the urgency that I needed the coat immediately, after all, at 5pm tomorrow I would be on the way to Nantong). he pulled a coat down, sewed a few buttons on it, had me try it on. Fine, little big in the shoulders. She said it wasn't mine, but I could use it, mine would be ready tomorrow. I wish I could have just rented one in the first place now.

Next I went to Kedu for a shirt and tie, had a lady help me select one that had long enough arms. I tried ghetto-ironing it when I got back: running the shower's hot water on full blast, steaming it. That didn't work, so I hung it on my door and hoped time and heat would smooth it down.

For rehearsal, I had to push my way into a room that had a piano against the door. I found out from Nigel the primary teachers didn't want us on the first floor pianos because last time the room was left dirty. I can only assume that one of my students left an empty coffee drink can on the chalkboard tray. After rehearsal, I spoke to the skinny piano teacher guy, had him watch me inspect the room for dirtiness, erased the chalkboard.

I gave him the key that Nigel had provided which turned out to be the same beat-down out-of-tune piano as before. I illustrated this would not work by playing two dissonant keys, making a face. "no good." Hopefully he will understand and talk to the other music teachers. I'm getting fed up with them being stingy about the pianos. They belong to the school, not them.

I pedaled down to Dongzhou middle school, Lindsey and I watched a bootleg DVD of "Shark Tale." Two times during the feature, you saw someone get up and walk across the screen. We started to watch "The Grudge", but then Alainna (I had misspelled her name before as "Elena") knocked and said the gate guy was locking up and kicking me out. He referred to me as a "tall guy" which rarely happens.

Pedaled home, ate some peanut M&M's, blogged, slept soundly.

holy xylophone, batman!

Ok, this is even better than the Ann Coulter right wing video down below:

Dig the creepy sun.

Here is where i got it.

Joyce Mujuru: Courage under fire

This article is about Joyce Mujuru, who may be the next ruler of Zimbabwe. Check this excerpt:

On February 17, 1974, the group she was assigned to had an encounter with Rhodesian Forces and scattered, leaving Mujuru to her own devices. She stumbled over a wounded colleague, who gave her his gun and told her to run. She recalled: "A helicopter crew saw me. They were coming down for me and I fired. Incredibly, I hit the machine and there was a lot of black smoke and it crashed. A big explosion followed.”

yikes!

What a Crappy Present -dot- com

Just in time for the holidays:

What a Crappy Present!

i just love that picture!

December 15th: the no-power blues and proper rehearsal

Day 89

Woke from decent sleep, realized it was because everything was quiet. The power was out, so the white noise of my heater and bathroom fan were nonexistent. Good side effect: better sleep. Bad side effects: no shower, no computer, no music, no coffee. My morning routine was fucked.

I tried to brush my hair into a managed chaos and wandered over to the canteen, got some vitamin cakes and two little cans of cold coffee drink which were so sweet I needed a sidecar of insulin.

I tried to croak out the song lesson, myvoice would have greatly benefited from a hot beverage. Rose said electricity would resume at 6pm. As I wrote the words on the board in one class, a student asked me toturn the lights on because he couldn't see. I kind of snapped:"I can't! No lights! No computer! No projector! No hot water for Mr. Willis's coffee!"

After lunch, I read for a bit in the sunshine by the basketball court. I got mobbed by primary kids, all showing me their jian zi (Chinese hackeysack using a weight and feather). They asked, "What do you like?"

"I like many things." This one kid had a sweater that said "Rock" in twin stacks of block letters similar to that "Love" design in the 70's. "I like that sweater! Where did you buy?"

They do have the coolest sweaters here. I'm dying for one I saw that had a picture of an apple, with "apples man" under it. It's doubtful it would be in my size. Their energy and pulling on my sweater was a little much, so I walkedup to the gate to check mail.

Boxes still hadn't arrived, but there was a card from Jenn's mom. I showed it to my last two classes to the catch-all comment of "Oh, very beautiful." (say staccato with anunciated T) I need to teach them synonyms for "pleasing to the eye." Everything from pictures of my friends, to my clothes to my beard has been described as "oh, very beautiful."

Before fourth class I rode into town bent on getting big yellow paper to make a submarine, Rose stopped me at the gate, handed me a very important-looking invitation. It's for the Christmas dinner to-do in Nantong next week, at the behest of China's government, all foreign English teachers from Haimen and Nantong are invited. It's a formal affair, so I may have to buy a shirt and tie this week. My posse from Dongzhou will be going, too, and I'm glad I met them already in non-formal environs.

I tried riding out again, but my back tire desperately needed air. I pedaled up the "lower east side" and used bike chap's there, realized I had no time to go all the way to the paper shop, but since I was off-campus I decided on the secondary objective of getting a phone card.

At Kedu, the mobile phone girl and her friend pointed me to the kiosk across the street. I obtained a 50 yuen card and pedaled back. I parked my bike by the juinor block, went upstairs to Harry & Monkey's class. "You are late!" they said. The other teacher stood in the doorway beaming and I told them "No, class starts at 3:25, yes?" I looked at my watch, and it was 3:25. The teacher disappeared. I was late. That whole "ten minutes early" business threw me off. Oh well. In my contract, twenty minutes is the punishable time, so I was still in the clear and it was an honest mistake.

The power came back on halfway through class so I used the overhead to show the Christmas card. We sang Rudolph with the "American kids repeating" words added, took my bows at the bell, left.

I rode out again to the paper shop, picked up some construction paper for Erin, found some big stiff yellow paper, but couldn't figure how to ride it back to the school. It couldn't roll up, you see.

When rehearsal time came, I handed the student list to the girls and they went and collected them for me. I made all of them practice both songs because I'm not sure which grade is doing which song. Jingle actually has an interesting chord progression. It's the arrangements over the years that have made that song nauseating.

I chatted online with Lindsey for a while, tried to drink some of that awful white wine, although even watering it down didn't help. I poured it down the sink, blogged, joined the unconsciousness club.

December 14th: song lessons and exhaustion

December 14th: song lessons and exhaustion

Day 88

Erin knocked but I was awake anyway. Slept in intermittent bursts, terrified of oversleeping, but still managed to get enough rest.

This week I'm teaching "!2 days of Christmas" to Junior 2 and "Rudolph the red-nosed Reindeer" to Junior 1. I thought the "fifth, sixth, twelfth" might be too much for the younger kids.

I had just enough voice to croon with and my two piggybacked bad classes actually got into the song. (The one bad kid was gone in the third class, though, which may have explained the smoothness of the lesson.)

After dinner, I felt spent, knew I couldn't possibly go out a third night in a row with late hours. Plus I couldn't bear it if Alen postponed that damned KTV party yet again. Alen called Erin, told her the party was not at the hotel but at the club, not at midnight but at 9pm. I laid down for an hour but I still couldn't bring myself to go out. I had to save my voice and health.

I told Erin she could tell them I felt sick so that she was not always pinned with the blame of being a bedflower. I laid down some more, not quite sleeping but having that detached feeling, like not feeling stuck in your body, but floating inside it. Limbs feel heavy, facial muscles slack, utter tranquility.

Erin knocked on my door at 10:30, asking if I was hungry. I shrugged, went with her to the hotel, ate a ham and cheese sandwich and a carrot juice. Her PMS was kicking in and she punished her veggie pizza, using hands instead of usual utensils.

We pedaled back and retired, hoping Alen wouldn't call. He didn't.

December 13th: penelope, Brazilians, and fellow white people

Day 87

Woke at 10:30 not feeling a hundred percent. Coffee, vitamin and water helped get my head straight. The internet was still not up. I wandered over to the computer office and my dude was playing 1941 on the computer. I asked about the internet and he said "tomorrow." I guess the high score comes first.

By noon, I rode out to Dongzhou park