stAllio! bent image gallery

i don't know how stallio gets all the shit done that he does, but here's some more evidence that he's cooler than everyone else: stAllio!'s bent image gallery

dude screws around with images in ways you're not s'posed to, and many times they come out real cool.

(look for cameo appearance by dj empirical and vinnie from Le TechnoPUSS13S in the RR8 gallery).

mp3 blog: Scenestars

check out Scenestars, they're an mp3 blog with some neat stuff (at a glance; i haven't studied it).

The Former Yugoslavia - Paper Dolls for Catholic Children - umb029

My friend Aric Vance, formerly a.k.a. The Former Yugoslavia, has just had his second (and last) tfy release put up for download by the good people at the Umbrella Noize Collective.

The Former Yugoslavia: Paper Dolls for Catholic Children

If you'll remember, this is the same fabulous place where you can get (amongst other things) the debut release from the QEG's own orNot!, entitle The Triplet EP.

Pearl Jam's "Yellow Ledbetter" as you've never seen it before

Amazing video for Pearl Jam's "Yellow Ledbetter".

June 28th: exit China

Day 285

Woke at 6, readied everything, hugged Rhys and Jeni goodbye. I think it was too early for tearducts to function but I'm vertain all of us felt the the urge to cry. I told them that the blog torch was now passed to them and that detailed Chinese adventures with all my favorite characters were to be documented thoroughly. Rhys gave me a small box, the contents of which were to be "played with in the airport." Another round of hugs and a brinking tideswell of emotion, then we strolled down the hall in the company of our luggage, the Haimen fellowship splintering for the last as elevator doors curtained closed.

Next: What's the best way to kill an emotional buoyancy? By replacing it with the very justified urge to strangle. The front desk girl, the very one whom the day before said "I know, I know" to our shuttle request said there wasn't one. A gulp of dread. Why? She claimed that although we had talked about it, we had never actually reserved it. THE NERVE. She dropped the ball and now due to a stupid face-save culture she was insisting it was OUR fault we had no shuttle. Had the bellhop guy not gone out and flagged down a cab at that moment, had that cab not been less expensive then the shuttle anyway, and had we not been in a stressful rush to catch our plane, I'm certain that Heather and I would have played a game of "rock scissors paper" to determine exactly who got the pleasure of wrapping our may guo ren claws around this girl's throat and throttling her like an ostrich.

Stress and murder urges abated as the cab worked its way up the highway. The buildings and skyline streamed by in the morning sun, a last look, a look shared by Lindsey, by Mike, by Matt and Erin. What had they felt? What was going through their mind? Excitement? Sadness? That inexplicable "home" feeling in the pit of your stomach that feels like a fishing line beginning to reel?

These thoughts were shattered as I sipped my coffee and an inopportune cab jostle spilled it down my shirt. Great. The day was going to over 30 hours long and I'd have to endure it with a stained shirt. But who was I to tempt fate with a white shirt while trying to drink something in a Chinese cab?

I bought some souvenirs just to try and get rid of my extra kuai they wouldn't exchange despite my paperwork being in order and having the crucial red stamp. Fuckers. We boarded and I passed out right before takeoff, fell "asleep against the window pane" as Thom Yorke sang. The roar of the engines and the rattling of the cabin shook me awake, we tipped upward like a box of crackers, shed the ground below like a garment and soon only water was visible, the China chapter finished.

June 27th: exit Haimen

Day 284

Woke at 7:15am, blogged, readied everything, then went with Heather to exchange money at 8. Despite our having been there on multiple occasions, the same girl insisted on checking our paperwork and photocopying our passports yet again. And this was after she made snother chap fill out four copies of a withdrawl form. Two things frustrated me about this:
-she could have used carbon paper
-while dude was finishing that and she was sitting IDLE, she could have started our procedure. C'mon, China! Multitask!

The whole ordeal took about 45 minutes and they took their sweet time giving our passports back, sweet time we didn't have. I pedaled Heather back to the middle school on the back of my bike, becoming a sweaty bastard in the already cleggy morning heat. We said bye to Mickey (who bestowed a Chinese tassle ornament on me) and Mr. Yeah who somehow roused himself out of his apocalyptic drunken stupor from the previous night to see us off. I had a few things to do at my place so I rode off, calling "Zai jian, peng you" over my shoulder to Mr. Yeah. I rechecked my room for the hundredth time thenran my stereo receiver up to Rose.

"This is for you," I told her and explained what it was.

"Oh, I think you can take it back to America."

"No, I want you to have it. You've been very kind to me in China and I wanted to say thank you."

She cringed and grinned. "Mmmm, I think it is too expensive."

"May guan xi de (It's nothing)" I said.

Rose is very cute. I popped in on classes 7 and 8, my favorites, since they were adjacent to the teacher's office. I just put my head in the door and said "Goodbye class, I am going to America. I will miss you and I love you all very much." Some of them meekly said "Goodbye," more waved. I was interrupting their lesson so i imagine they were hesitant to break out of class-mode. then I dashed off, checked everything again, and Heather arrived, laden with her belongings.

Nigel stopped me in the hall, asked for the key, tried a last ditch effort to exert some kind of authority or connection in my life. "I already gave it to Rose," I told him, utterly disgusted at his transparent attempts at distracting from his own lost life by trying to meddle in mine, absorb some of my joys vicariously and then subvert them attempting to take credit for them under "his tutelage." I will not miss interacting with him every day to receive the school-sanctioned snack that I didn't even FUCKING WANT!

Luckily the shuttle showed and spared us further social torture. I said goodbye to Rose who said, "A year goes by very quickly, mmmmm." I wanted to hug her, but it's culturally unacceptable unless I was having relations with her, so I gave her a heartfelt handshake. We met Rhys and jeni at the gate, rearranged some luggae to make room, and took our places in the minivan bound for Shanghai.

Rolling by the familiar sites; the front gate, the hotel, it didn't seem like the final time, but then what is a final time supposed to feel like? Should there have been a memory flood, a montage of happiest moments set to an orchestrated Hans Zimmer crescendo? I ride a quiltwork of immediates and sadness and nostalgia don't hit me until much later. I was excited at the prospect of the new transition. At the ferry I got out with Rhys and chatted about Cambodia while he smoked until the thick humid sludge drove me back into the air conditioned confines of the shuttle.

When we arrived in Shanghai we checked into the Amersino hotel, scheduled an airport shuttle so as not to be China'd by either the Metro or Mag-Lev. Peace of mind was worth 180 kuai. Heather told the girl 6:30, confirmed a few times to make sure and the girl snapped, "Ok, ok, I understand.' One less worry.

We opted for lunch at the ma la tong place, in hindsight a bloody stupid thing to do considering t was unbearably hot and moist day, and we were eating steaming spicy brothy business in a crowded, poorly ventilated area. Two chun guo ren were screaming at each other with less than a foot distance between them. I'm sure it did Rhys's hangover no favors.

He went for a nap whilst Heather, Jeni and I returned yet again to Old Town and perused the tiny wooden figurine section. We pressed through the different levels of the market, then on down the road where I kept acquiring things despite the fact that my bags were filled to bursting already. Among other things I secured some Chinese tank commander goggles which are now the official McDeviltoast specs.

We took a cab back, roused the Constable. Heather and I sought an internet cafe to check about lodging with Liz in Los Angeles, but still no word (Nervous!) Then back to the hotel to get Rhys and Jeni, then on to a curry place for some non-Chinese cuisine. Our party grew exponentially and we had to keep moving tables and private rooms as us, Llinos, Phoenix and Nin (Chinese), an Australian named Krish, a Canadian named Claire, and about eight French people joined the madness.

A buffet with yogurt curry, veggie kababs, chicken vindaloo and other delights were there for the taking. I played it safe except for the curry and ate my weight in naan. I had much travelling ahead and my bowels needed to be in a good mood. The beer poured freely and much laughter (tinged with a looming expiration date) emanated from our hot, busy room.

Afterwards we went to Barbarossa, one of the most amazing coctail lounges ever created. It had all the elements of an ideal brainstorm I had: low lighting, Moroccan-themed furnishings, pillows and such, trip-hop/exotica on the hi-fi and of course hookahs. We ordered peach and they had none, so opted for apple. It took a long time for them to get it to us and longer still to light it, but it was decent smoke. I was fading in energy and could have slept there it was so comfortable. Outside, phoenix, declaring she was drunk on one glass of champagne said "I intend to steal a boat!" The rim of Barbarossa was a moat with little paddleboats, lotus garden and such. To even get to the place, you had to negotiate your way through Shanghai's main park, "discovering" the magic oasis inside.

We hugged Llinos goodbye, hopped a cab back to Amersino as the hours rapidly shot away towards dawn.

June 26th: final tent night in Haimen

Day 283

Had bakery stuffs, completed the photo uploads, finished my teaching logs, report and forwarded my address to Rose. Went on some errands to exchange money, but were told they couldn't do it on Sunday, and we'd have to try again at 8am tomorrow, leaving a two hour window between waking and leaving for Shanghai.

Heather and I walked around town taking photos and such, shopped for last minute Chinglish shirts, dropped in on Mr.Yeah at the market, where he is an ice seller.The market was huge and some guy appeared out of nowhere to direct us to him. He was all grins and offered us cigarettes, bade us sit, gave us green tea. The man is an absolute legend.

We invited him to the tents at 9pm and then he walked us out of the market, hailed a cab for us. The ride was air conditioned, which was welcome, given the cleggy humid air we had subjected ourselves to walking.

Next we went back to my place and I packed everything up, squeezing in everything almost to bursting. it's going to be an insane next few weeks. We wentover to the arts building to try and pack in one last practice, but the volume of mosquitos was staggering and nauseating. So, we took a cab up to Times, bought some orange juice to chill for laterand went to the music shop to have a brief session in the crazy-hot upstairs practice room. I explained to them we were leaving tomorrow and they wished us safe travel euphemisms. (Earlier I had bought a tiny keyboard with-air hose instrument from them, so it was kind of a double goodbye.)

The night had descended, but the temperature not so much. A breeze would have aided things a bit, but the air was still. Mr. Yeah showed up at 20 'til 9, bearing drinks and dressed in T-shirt, jeans and shiny pointy shoes. We went up to Rhys and Jeni's room (although the gate guy had to be convinced it was no problem for Mr. Yeah to come in) and they smoked a cigarette, then we went and took our place at the "tents" (although it was total outdoor dining and no tent for walls nor roof).

Heather's dizi teacher showed, as well as Mickey';s boyfriend, and eventually Mickey. We poured gin and juice, and then moved on to beer once that was used up. Mickey's fella initiated ganbei wars with a little too much zeal, and I having been a little gunshy about keg beer since the memory gap night, took my time.

I had a minor bout of "Gethsemane blues," where I was essentially at my last supper in Haimen, and I just wanted to talk about some important stuff, but everyone was too drunk and tired to stay awake with me before the Romans came. Not that I had anything particularly amazing to say, I just felt alienated by the goings-on a bit. The beer tasted awful and I didn't want to risk the last night to possible memory wipe.

The night went on, Heather and Mickey got emotional, which had the rest of us on the verge of tears as well. Mr. Yeah had bouts of narcolepsy where he would be ganbei'ing one moment, snoring the next. Mickey's fella harangued him mercilessly, throwing chopsticks and cigarettes at him, shouting that he must wake up. We took pictures with the tent staff who wished us well, had shirts-off club, managed to eat some dishes among all the madness.

Heather, Mickey and I went back to Heather's room to get some stuff for Mickey, mainly the big stuffed dog, which Mickey named "Mr.Willis." We carried it over the gate and back to the table where Mickey's boy wasn't doing too well. He was spitting and had his head down, victim of his own ganbei woes. She gave him Mr. Willis to hold and at one point he was vomiting in the median, holding Mr. Willis just out of spew range. Rhys got some choice pictures of it.

We said our goodbyes and I pedaled Heather off on the back of my bike, tucked ourselves into a brief slumber before the Shanghai shuttle took us out of Haimen, and one step closer to home.

June 25th: Saturday cookie dough and final club night

Day 282

Woke, had a productive morning writing and uploading the endless array of student pictures. In the afternoon, I took another box of winter stuff to the post office to mail back. By the time the stuff reaches America, it will be cold enough to wear again,and since I will be living out of my suitcase for the next three weeks or so, it would be smart to streamline its contents into only what is necessary.

The post office affair took about an hour since they were adamant about mailing Heather's card that had a music chip in it. So, Heather opened the envelope, tore out the chip and gave it back to them to reseal. I pantomimed using tape but they shook their heads, tried to fold over the tear and use watery glue. After a few minutes of this, they had the bright idea to use tape. "Wow! Glad SOMEONE thought of that!" I will not miss this about China.

Following some tree dumplings we entertained the idea of walking around town and taking pictures, but the weather was insufferable. Hazy, humid, thick air, like sludging through a gelatin dessert someone had left on a sunny picnic top. All you wanted to do was hide in the air conditioning and eat popsicles.

I made it over to Times and bought a shirt for my cousin's baby girl. Maddie had no name for over a week and I had seen this funny shirt which declared "I like my name" so I got it. A while later, Heather, Jeni, and I braved the humid sludge for DVDs in a last ditch gold rush. I scored two more Stephen Chow films and a Tom and Jerry box set. I can't get enough of a cat and mouse beating the holy hell out of one another. It reminds me of watching cartoons with my brother after school, eating oatmeal creme pies, cackling with glee.

Darkness fell and the sludge lifted a little. We ate quesadillas from the tortillas Mike had left for us (cheers, pal) and then whipped up the sugar cookie dough from Barb Willis's legendary Christmas box. Since we had no oven, we ate spoonfuls of teh raw dough, sprinkling the themed confections on each bite ("jingle mix" and "holly berries"). It was a very college moment, all of us on the rug eating our ghetto cookie dough like stoners.

The plan of the evening was to hit the club, then leave after the floorshow started, then visit Mr. Yeah at the tents on the far side of town. We rode to the club, secured a table on the mezzanine level by the stairs. I took a picture with my lighting dude, grabbed Jackie and brought him back to the table. He shrugged off an offer of beer, showed me a particularly infected tooth, poor guy. We explained that even though we were going back to America, Rhys and Jeni were staying and in September there would be four new wai guo ren, two from Australia. That's the way the expat abroad game works: a constant rotating panel of people coming and going.

The floorshow started and midway through Jackie dedicated a song to us, belted out a familiar tune that's sung by the Chinese Peter Gabriel. It was touching. The sentiment was killed by the next act: a female who was going to pierce her arms with nailsand hang buckets off of them and spin around or something. Heather had seen it before, and it didn't sound like a good time and the beer was warm and awful, so we fled.

We rode up to the far tents, but Mr.Yeah was nowhere in sight. We were told we had just missed him and that he worked at the markets now. Nuts. We rode back to our own tents, promising we'd track him down tomorrow. Had some cold beer and a fried sausage, then rode back, uploaded more photos, watched a bit of "A Touch of Frost" (an Aussie detective show) crashed out of consciousness.

June 24th: Friday parties and dinner with Mickey

Day 281

Woke with a headache and a hazy recollection. Tents. Keg beer. Four parties to go. I tried to sort my head and stomach out, had some coffee, dashed off to the first class. I had to beg them to be good since Kip, Mitch and Vinnie Bufante weren't doing their eye exercises and someone had turned on the TV to NBA. The only one who was behaving was Sleepy LaBeef, whom I played the Beatles' "I'm Only Sleeping" in tribute.


Kip (Very Angry)


Sleepy LaBeef


Vinnie Bufante


Mitch

Next was class 2 with July and Alice, whom I gave push-pops to in gratitude of their help with the Christmas program and for generally being wonderful students. I told themI loved them all very much and thanked them for being good (after all one class over did not have a party for being rotten bastards) and got a tinge choked-up saying it.


Alice


July

Heather came by and we went to the hotel for toasted ham-n-cheese sandwiches, carrot juice, our stomachs not able to handle much more. We saw a microscopic praying mantis on the way back in to the school, took some pictures.

She got to nap while I had the last two parties. Class 7 was an unleashed torrent of energy, mobbing me for souvenirs even after dispensing snacks, papers, buttons and pennies. I had to scream "sit down" many times. At least the madness kept it from getting too sentimental. Eleanor glitter-bombed my hand, Bill gave me a hug and talked about bikinis and swimming, I autographed a million pieces of paper, Tabitha asked questions, and I was given a few gifts.


Bill loves swimming, bikinis, and swimming.


Eleanor


Tabitha

Then on to Class 8, where Jimmy, Pete, Simon, DJ, Clyde, Catherine and Bella all got special gifts from me in recognition of their cleverness and personalities, eating with me in the dining hall, and showing a genuine interest in learning English. When it was over, a relief came over, but not a thinderous finality. It still seemed like I would teach them next week, that the routine would spin on. It probably won't hit me until I'm on American soil. I am grateful for the sudden leaving Cincinnati back in September. I think a week of prolonged goodbyes (like this week) would have been too much to bear.


the class 8 posse (clockwise from top left)DJ Wishywashy, Jimmy, Simon, Clyde, Pete, Bella, Catherine.

Heather and I rode back to the middle school, ate popsicles to rehydrate (damn you keg beer!) and sunbathed on the roof, as the sky was unhazy in late afternoon for once. We sought out Mickey to have dinner with and after collecting Rhys and Jeni, walked down to the place above the bakery. They sat us at a table downstairs for once (much cooler) and I polished off a plate of their spicy fried rice with ravenous urgency. Every glass of water they poured I drained immediately. I taught Mickey two important English terms: "sucks" and "noggin."


restaurant adjacent to bakery


Heather and Mickey candid


Heather and Mickey posed


Constable and the Missus Jeni


'Toast and his tiny tiny bakery girl pal

After procuring some bakery stuff for the morning, we went back to Rhys and Jeni's room and tried to watch my copy of "Birth" but it turned out to be a "filmed in theater" boot, so we switched to "Fight Back to School" a Stephen Chow film from 1991. It was hilarious. Jackie Chan may have invenetd the kung fu comedy, but Chow perfected it. I'll see anything he's in and I hope "Kung Fu Hustle" will still be in the theaters when I get back.

Before bed, I uploaded pictures until my eyes got dry, watched Australian football for a bit, the succumbed to sweet slumber.

June 23rd: Thursday parties and tent excess

Day 280

We all had breakfast at the hotel with the frazzled Ms. Rock, who was a little tardy from visiting students and teachers. Rhys made his egg and bacon sandwich again and took seven minutes to do, (because of cold butter). A table behind us had a group of swine who were hocking loud phlegm conjures and spitting onto the carpet. I think this alone should demote the hotel's rank by a star. Disgusting.


erin rock enjoys the toast


the swine what spit on carpet


erin and jeni


rhys's 7 minute eggwich


While the others helped Erin sort her stuff out, I went and partied with the Ultraman class. I gave Julian my coat and a Paperback CD. He gave me a hug when I left. He's a bright one and I hope he does come to visit me in America when he's older.


julian

I rushed back to my place and saw Erin off in the school shuttle. My partner in crime, she the one that I shared this whole experience with, starting with the plane ride over, and now she was driving off. It wouldn't really hit me until later when I would see her doorand know that I couldn't just go and knock and see what she was up to. Erin's one of the craziest people I've ever known and I wish her well.


chinese erin goodbye


erin ROCK goodbye

Next I dealt with the dreaded class 1, who ruined their chances for having a party last week by being loathsome and intolerable. I said nothing when I entered and someone mocked my usual opening lines (How are you today? Any questions?) and another student had the gall to ask if there was going to be a party. I hissed at them to be quiet, took away two exacto knives and glared at some kids who were acting up. They stayed quiet, most of them put their heads down on the desk. Summer listened to an mp3 player. No one apologized or even cared they weren't having a party. When the bell rang i didn't even say anything to them. They weren't worth my breath. Even the apathy crew gave me a card for fuck's sake.

The next class was the player/colorwolf obsessed class, filled with some of my favorites like Mike, Charlie Murphy, Paulie Walnuts, Curtis, Jay and Jerry. The girl I told was a good student last week (Kitty) gave me a paper with her hobbies and favorites listed, tanking me for defending her. It was endlessly endearing and cute. I took a picture of my soccer kids all together, then went to the next class and started the whole process over.


the players of class 4

Some of the kids wrote "see you in September" and such, even though I had said I wasn't coming back. I hadn't the heart to tell them again. Afterwards, full of snacks and worn out, I uploaded pictures, then went up to the middle school. We decided to hit the tents since they had kegs. I left the meal to get snacks for Friday's classes, then the rest of the night is a blur. I don't remember leaving the tents, and I don't recall taking some of the pictures I found later. It's estimated I consumed about 3 liters, though Rhys and Jeni will have to confirm the rest of the night.

Infinite Number of Sounds news

i just got the email newsletter sent out by my friends in Cleveland known as Infinite Number of Sounds, and there are a couple noteworthy items.

First:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
INS ON DISCOVERY CHANNEL!!!

Hey, just because we won't be in your town for a couple months doesn't mean you have to go without your INS fix! This coming Tuesday, June 28, 2005, the Discovery Channel will feature two of our songs on the soundtrack of episode 2 of their newseries, "Urban Explorers".

To quote their site:
In this episode, a team of four experts - an urban historian, a structural engineer and two world-class, urban climbers - go back in time to uncover the lost ruins ofthe "Windy City." Venture with them into hidden corners of Chicago that even thelocals don't know exist.

Showtime is set for 5:00PM EST, but check your local listings to be sure. For more information on the Discovery Channel and the "Urban Explorers" series, visit http://dsc.discovery.com.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

awesome! too bad i don't have cable. maybe i can find someone who'll let me come over and watch it....

also, for those in Cinci:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Cincinnati forgoes fireworks, invites INS back instead!

Next Sunday, INS will be rolling back down to Cinncinati's Northside Tavern toperform with Cincy's own masters of jazzy bluesy hip-hop - IsWhat. We know that y'all have Monday off for the holiday, so why not shoot down to the Northside,
where there is never a cover charge, to celebrate your freedom.

Sunday, July 3, 2005
Infinite Number of Sounds
w/ IsWhat
@ Northside Tavern
4163 Hamilton Ave.
Cincinnati, OH
513-542-3603
http://www.northside-tavern.com/
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

that's good news. chances are that dj empirical will pop in for some scratch action. ;)

The Evolution Control Committee on KPFA's 'No Other Radio'

My good friend Mark Gunderson of the Evolution Control Committee made an appearance on west coast radio last night / this morning.

Click
here for a link to stream the show, or click here for a direct link to the mp3 stream. It's only 24 kbps, so it doesn't sound great, but it has some good ECC content.

dogs dogs dogs dogs oh yeah dogs

i know many of you are already familiar (to some extent) with Cassetteboy, but i just got them out and listened to them again, for the first time in a while, and i'm reminded how much i like them.

a particular favorite is this one: "dogs dogs dogs dogs oh yeah dogs"

you can't beat an arrangement of lou reed's "perfect day" sung by dogs ("jingle bells"-style), with other samples all over the place, including one or two from "the day today", a classic Chris Morris brit news show parody. good times.

June 22nd: Wednesday parties and Erin's farewell dinner

Day 279

First class's lack of enthusiasm sapped my energy (Junior 2, go figure)then the next class revujenated me. Andy, David, Zelda, Abe Frohman and the two girls who think he and his big sausage are "very lovely." Andy gave me a DVD of "Starship Troopers 2" and Steven the teacher gave me a double CD of Grammy winners 2005 (cringe), two Haimen melons which I plan to share with classes 7 and 8 on Friday.

After lunch I partied with class 1(3), listened to the Beatles songs I taught them in the last year, Queen's "We Will Rock You" and "Midnite Vultures" by Beck, which is a cross-international party record. I doled out pennies to thos who could answer Mr. Willis's trvia about the Beatles, then gave some to Lily, Alice and Mullet just becuse they're my favorites.

After a break where I uploaded pictures (so so many) and gmailed them to myself, it was time for the Harry and Monkey class. I called them up to the front and explained, "Two students in here were very nice to me, made me feel very welcome in China. They would eat with me in the dining hall and talk with me so I was not lonely: Harry and Monkey."

I gave Harry the Yao Ming bank Chen Ping had given to Heather, and gave Monkey my Coca Cola soccer jersey but told him it was not just for playing football, he could wear it anytime. He's my favorite because he's small and always has a rascally grin. He gets picked on, but he tries and he may not know much English, but he sat with me at dinner and endured my questions good-naturedly anyway when others were too shy. I'll miss that guy.

I uploaded pictures (a neverending process) until about ten 'til 6, when Erin and I walked up to the hotel for her last night in Haimen. We sat and waited for the others to join us.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Erin asked if I had spoken with anyone about it and I told her I had last night, but not today.

"Oh my god!" she said. "You should call them!"

"They know!" I insisted.

And waited.

"Call Heather," she ordered.

"As soon as I get up to call, they're going to walk through the door."

"Call her and make sure!"

I began to doubt myself at this point and walked over to the front desk, who then motioned me to the "business center." I dialed and Heather answered, and said she and Rhys and Jeni were inside the building, as I had predicted! I drop-kicked Erin's little notebook.

We sat and ordered, chatted about memory stuff, drank Tsingtao and Dynasty wine. After the meal we decided to each order a hot chocolate cake dessert, which ended up taking the kitchen around 45 minutes to expedite. Unacceptable. The waiting and mix of beer and wine made me lethargic. I did not feel at all like going to the club as was originally planned. Neither did Erin, who was going to stay up and pack for most of the night anyway.

We scheduled to meet for the hotel's breakfast buffet next morning to see her off (the school shuttle was at noon.) and I uploaded more pictures (endless sea of students' faces) before exhastion claimed me.


steven and 'toast


andy


david


zelda


abe frohman


snoopy (abe fan)


cynthia (abe fan)


mullet


lily


alice


emnite


harry


monkey


tulip and her too wrong shirt

2005/06/21: band practice and more ben stiller

woke, showered, blogged, went to work, came home. exciting. :)

when i pulled up, my landlord was using a leaf blower to clean the sidewalk in front of my house. this was fine, except that all the front wondows were open, so not only was there a crazy amount of noise inside, the dust was floating in. oh well, it could be worse: at least my landlord isn't a dick, like most Clifton Heights landlords.

i wasn't there long, as i had to get over to the final band practice for 80s Pop Rocks II, which is coming up on Friday. (I know the Toast is quite displeased about missing it. Sucks, we'll miss you there.) I loaded everything up in the jeep and traversed to Northside, where the Meadoe practice space is. We were playing there so we could run through it at a good volume, and since Rob (who's playing bass for me) is in Meadoe, he said we could use their space for the evening.

things went well, and we sounded great. rob really does the bass parts well, and david's got this quirky thing he's doing on the guitar that sounds great. plus, since the version i have sequenced doesn't have the siren sound or the phone dialing sounds, David is just doing those into a microphone. if you know david at all, you'll know that it's goddamn funny.

after running though it ten or so times, we decided that we know the song sufficiently for the show, and went our separate ways. when i got back home, andrea was watching The Ben Stiller Show, so i made her skip it back to where i was in the season, and we watched four or so episodes in a row while i played with her laptop, using the music brainz tagger to clean up her music some more. this way, when she listens to music, her audioscrobbler will log things nicely.

after that much ben stiller, we stopped it to watch something else. we decided on serial mom. turns out andrea knows nothing about john waters, so i may have to give her a crash course in the next couple weeks before she leaves.

after the film, we crashed.

June 21st: Tuesday parties and Langshan outing

Day 278

Woke, had some coffee and hung out in Mike's room as he made last minute luggage checks and such. Everyone gravitated in to see him off and I had to leave early to go begin the party week. I think I had it easiest not to be there when the cab pulled away. It was more of a see-ya-later than goodbye, which is fitting since he'll be joining the party in Moab for a a few days in July.

I gathered my stuff, headed to the first class,who forgot to bring any snacks and just seemed on thorazine about everything. I asked them to write down their names, both Chinese and English, and a message. They passed in the sheets sans message. "Write something to me! I'm leaving!" Grade 2 can't even be cool on the last day. They put down some messages, the sikly-sweet heartfelt junk that's on all Chinese clothing and coming from them was seven times less sincere.

The next class was better, for they are grade 1, and they rule. They all had snacks, decorated the sheets with well wishes (sincere ones) and little pictures, colored drawings. I bestowed Victoria with a word-find book and a CD of my music for being very clever, friendly, and an asset in class as interpreter those first few weeks. After lunch began, some of them took me down to the pond for additional photos. This was more like it. How can a year change students so much? Were my angels going to turn to demons? Was it chemical, societal? What triggers this 180 degree turn for the worse?

In the afternoon, class 2(7), I gave Cherry a word-find book and a couple other trinkets, since she was the only student in there who made an effort to be nice to me, once giving me an apology card when her class was being uber-rotten. She looked flattered, touched and a little embarrassed. I hoped it would make the other students envious and give them a clue that perhaps being nce, despite being its own reward, can occasionally pay off.

Next was the apathy crew. I got a card from jack, which was surprising. Smalls was pulling attitude again, but he had said last week the reason he was misbehaving is because I was leaving. I felt like a divorced dad trying to deal with junior's new rebellious streak. I did elicit a smile out of him, though, let him know nonverbally that his brattiness was unfounded and overall unnecessary.

Woody was wearing some fearsome bling bling for some reason and Kyle was doing the sports bra thing with his tank top. (Chinese young men have a tendency to pull up their shirts and expose their stomachs in hotter times, I suspect doffing the shirt entirely does not adhere to the moral customs. Yet, when a dude is wearing a tanktop, the pulled up shirt makes it look like he is wearing a sports bra.) I had him cover his stomach, had all the bad boys together in a picture up front: Noodles, Marco, Kyle, Jack, Smalls and Noodles (who finally got his damned Gameboy back.)


the students of class 1(5)


victoria


the apathy crew: (l to r) noodles, smalls, woody, jack, kyle, marco


cherry

I pedaled to the middle school with a quickness, as Rhys, Jeni, Heather and I were planning an outing to Langshan just outside of Nantong. At 4:30 we caught the bus, and after a transfer we walked up a Disney-ish thoroughfare to get to Langshan, which is a mountain oddly rising from no other range (a volcanic pimple) surrounded by gardens and topped with a Buddhist temple. We arrived at the gate only to be told that the temple had closed already, but for 20 kuai we could explore the gardens and hike up to it anyway, which we did.

Bridges over mosquito swarming lagoons, Suzhou-like buildings filled with art and modestly gaudy Buddhist statues. We made our way around the rim of the mountain, through a pine forest glen (dotted with Spirited Away-like statues), then up a series of steep steps to the aforementioned temple. It was not as closed as they ahd said. I opened a door, stole inside got some pictures. So did the others, and we had to exit by an old monk taking a bath, oblivious to the white interlopers invading the temple grounds.

After hours turned out to be the best way to see Langshan (English: wolf mountain) as there were no other people and all the shops hawking cheesy wares were shut tight. Rather pleasant. I had not realized how much I needed a nature break until we were there. The fresh air, trees, rocks, flowers, caves, pools, it rejuvenated me. I'm glad I got to have this last taste of rural China before I left.


langshan collage

We met Erin and Ben at the college, then after a brief shopping excursion for Chinglish shirts, headed to Captain's Bar for some Western fare.It was tasty and we were hungry, having sweated out an appetite on the humid climb to Langshan's peak. We had a drink at City hunter following the meal, and Heather and I grabbed a cab back, as I had a ton of pictures to upload and batteries to recharge for the next day.


the joke is this guy is completely serious


heather n toast nestled in the captain's bar


toast and erin nestled in the captain's bar

On the cabride back, my dude actually had a CD player and we had him throw in the Rhyme Swing Embassy. He thumbsed-up and nodded to it, and it was an especially surreal moment in my career here: rolling down the highway in a Chinese cab, rocking out to my own music. The length of the CD got us right to Haimen. After uploading in a bleary-eyed monitor bask, I retired, had odd dreams.

2005/06/19: monday's are dumb still

woke, blogged, and showered, but not in that order. work was rough, as i not only was tired, but was covering for two different people as well as handling my own monday stuff. whoof.

right as i got home, i put on the last episode of season 2 of NewsRadio with the commentary. i have now watched all of the box set (seasons 1 & 2), meaning 29 episodes and 20 with commentary, plus a couple little things. now i need season 3. :)

andrea called to say she'd be accepting a job offer she got last friday in chicago (see her blog). it's 100% travel, which will be rough, but doable, i think. she was sent home early from her current job because she put in her two weeks so soon after starting. i guess she finds out tomorrow whether she can go back for the two weeks. oh well.

after a bit of cleaning out aaron's future room, i introduced andrea to music brainz, a music batabase which has an application that will re-tag and organize your mp3s. since i'm obsessive, i spent the next couple hours doing that for her. whew.

June 20th: Mike's bon voyage banquet

Day 277

Woke around half past 11, made the rest of the pancakes (cheers, Barb Willis!) wiled away time watching Episode II, which after seeing Episode III, I like a lot more. Hayden Christensen's performance makes a lot more sense, the acting doesn't seem as bad, nor the lines as awful. I can view it for what it is instead of weighing against my own excitement.


chinese work much harder than americans?


mike outside of century mart being chinese


toast assailed by a chevishing statue at century mart

I prepared stuff to give to students, music to play, snacks to take, important stuff for the last week. I tracked down the principal to get his signature of authority for the plane ticket reimbursement. We chatted in between his phone calls and secretrarial folk bringing documents in to show him. I thanked him for the opportunity to teach at his school, gave him the email addresses of Rhys and Jeni so that when the new teachers got here, they could all meet up.

I tried to then give it to Rose, but she was teaching. I noticed most of the junior 1 students were outside doing some sort of lawn work, so I went down to visit with them. Ben came running out from behind a bush shrieking and rubbing his arm. "What is it? Bee?"

"No," the other students said, and tapped their forehead trying to think of the English word for Ben's assailant. I went over to the bush and a few boys were pointing. A toad hopped out. "A frog? Come on, Ben." I caught it, walked it down to the pond and deposited it into the water. Students here and there were pulling weeds and collecting bits of trash. I ran into some of the apathy crew; Noodles wanted the Gameboy back. I told him "Tough."

On the way out, Harry and his classmates flagged me down, apologized for talking. "Ok," I said. "Then we will have a party on Wednesday." They cheered. I played hackeysack with them for a minute then rode off. At the middle school, we sat in the AC, had a couple beers until 6pm. For Mike's farewell meal, he wanted hotpot.

They sat us at the table in front of the AC blower, and ordered some meats, potato, tofu, cucumber, and of course cold Tsingtao. We even ordered some cold dishes, strips of tofu in oil and cilantro (which I haven't had since the Christmas banquet in Nantong) and a barbecued pork. Delicious. No table dared wage a ganbei war on us, so we were able to enjoy our meal. Erin showed up for beer, but had no interest in the dead animal broth in the center of the table.We toasted Mike, wished him well, heartily laughed and waxed nostalgic.


heather n mike


rhys and jeni


toast n mike

Afterwards we obtained more fireworks, let them off in front of the tents again, let Lao Ban do the dirty work. Not two seconds after the fireworks ended, a guy with a bike cart scooped it up. I kept expecting one final burst from the box, he had picked it up that quickly. Then we headed to the ice cream place across from the middle school, let off some bangers called "Petards" which had a curious pirate graphic on the outside.



the ice cream fondue fiasco

The chocolate fondue in the picture is not what we actually received. Instaed there was a red and green jelly heated under a candle, with ice cream, Pocky, tiny star cookies, and melon balls in curved dishes around it. When will we silly white people realize that the picture does not actually resemble the food item you will receive? Oh well. Bellies full, we retired into Heather's room for a Mike's choice screening of "Napoleon Dynamite." He left before the end, exhaustion claiming him. The rest of us followed shortly thereafter.

2005/06/19: Father's Day

i woke up and chatted with Baby Kitty, who was at work and bored. after that, since i was up, i called my dad and talked for a little while. after a bit of cereal and The Ben Stiller Show (which i borrowed from JF but actually belongs to Tom Willis), i cleaned the trash out of the jeep. for some reason though, it slipped my mind to get ahold of laura to transfer the title, so i still dont officially own it. oh well.

i showered and went over to Buzz, which used to contain the coffeeshop/cd shop where i used to work, but now contains Buzz owner John's computer consulting business. he had been given 8 pounds of Intelligentsia coffee (out of Chicago) by our friend Stephen who lives up there and works at Intelligentsia. since coffee expires, John donated a bit to me.

i went from there over to Megan's place for a few minutes, to help her with part of her burlesque routine for this coming saturday's Hogscraper show. she wasn't in costume (or, since it's burlesque, "out of costume"), we were just working on this fan thing i'd suggested she do. i guess all those teen years of nunchucks paid off in some way.

on the way back from megan's, lyndsey called to see whether i was hungry. i was, and since andrea had called to say she wouldn't be back until 10-ish, i went over to eat at lyndsey's. we watched a bit of Viva la Bam on mtv, but after the pizza was done i got antsy and suggested we go back over to my place and watch a dvd or something. we did so, and caught a bit of Ben Stiller, then some Mr. Show and some of David Cross' Let America Laugh dvd. That was playing when andrea came over, and the three of us watched it for a while until Lyndsey left to go crash.

andrea and i watched the last two Season 2 episodes of NewsRadio, which i'd been saving for her all weekend, but not befor heading to her friend Kevin's house for some euchre. after a few minutes of video games (Dig Dug for me, Bosconian for her), we crashed.

June 19th: Chinese gut potion and tent fireworks

Day 276

After writing and showering, I rode a box of my winter clothes under my arm to the post office. Once there, my box didn't measure up and they put it into a new one that I had to pay for. Anotehr little annoyance I won't miss about China. I filled out my paperwork, stood there while they did whatever they did to keep me from leaving. One of teh grey-suited police type folk came in, stood next to me and chattered about me to the clerks, laughed. I looked over at him, said "Quit talkin' shit, guy. I'm right here." I don't mind if they talk about me, they should just have the decency to wait until after I've left.

I got outside and a young woman by a motorcycle pointed and laughed. I yelled at her. "What?! What's so goddamned funny?! Raaahhhh!" I've had this stomach thing for a week now and it heightens my irritability. Heather and I went to the pharmacy next to the tree dumpling place in search of stomach remedy.

We got a combo of tablets and a glass vial of liquid which my dude opened for me with a round coarse disc. He then said to return at 10pm and he would open another dose for me. My stomach did feel better, although a side effect was an unpleasant aftertaste in the back of my throat, easily killed with the citric acid of orange juice.

After watching "Shark Tale" (a good copy this time, no people crossing in front of the screen trying to find their seats) Mike, Heather, and I went to the DVD shop, picked up some stuff, then tucked ourselves into UBC for some fries.

A gent at another table came over to test his English and take pictures with his ultra-thin Japanese camera. His daughter practically stood at the head of our table the whole time, smiling at everything we said, continually checking our order sheet or jamming an index finger in her nostril.

Afterwards we walked back and witnessed a man and his young son doing some street fishing. He had a long pole and a net, the type you use to clean a pool, and he was swiping at treetops, catching sparrows and putting them in his son's plastic bag. I knew they ate them, but it was weird to see the harvest end of it. Apparently the sparrow-eating started with Mao, who declared war on them since they ate rice, echoes of the Pope wanting to help the fishermen by declaring the idiotic "fish on Friday" rule; culinary traditions revered as "mystical" when their origin is actually practical.




sparrow catcher

We got some fireworks and discovering the pharmacy was closed, joined Rhys and Jeni at the tents. Lao Ban set off the fireworks a couple feet from diners unshielded by the tent roof. Some of the blasts were deflected by wires overhead and sent sparks and debris raining down, a rogue piece hitting Constable three inches from his package.

We had a couple beers with them, then Mike, or rather his stomach, sent him away early. The rest of us watched "The Phantom Menace" until sleep swooped in to reclaim us.

Das Keyboard

I want one of these: Das Keyboard



It doesn't have any markings at all, and the keys are all weighted based on finger strength.

Actually, i can get a keyboard and paint it all out myself, and since i dont touch type, i guess the weighting wouldn't be all that cool.

ah, nevemind.

June 18th: bottle photo session and rooftop camaraderie

Day 275

When consciousness dawned, Mike and I walked to Century Mart for more water balloons, bread, bananas, and honey. In the water-fun aisle Mike also picked up a water pistol, something which made him cackle evilly. After a beer run and a liquor run to Times (tequila, cointreau, lemon Tang) we were set for the day's activities.

We ate lunch while watching "Predator," then began the process of taking all of the amassed beer, wine, and liquor bottles up to the roof for pictures. Close to 700 altogether, we lined them up, arranged them, which didn't takemuch since the majority were green Tsingtao type. The whole shebang took about 30 minutes to execute. Chen Ping, the eventual owner of the bottles and the money they would net, helped us carry some up and then said she'd take them all down in the morning.

We took photos from the ground, up in the roost that ate shuttlecocks, posed in the fray for blinking timers. We even made the empty boxes into castle form, posed in them and got video footage of Rhys moshing his way through them. Ridiculous fun four months in the making.



mine are the least impressive photos of the whole event

Erin came up and joined us for some Muslim noodles, then back to the school to fill up water balloons. She turned on "The Terminal," which I got sucked into watching, drank ghetto margaritas. They were disappointingly not up to snuff. The sour aspect was sorely missed. It just tasted flat, sweet, and not too cold, like drinking someone else's drink that was left on a railing in the sun. Bu hao.

"The Terminal" concluded, we took our position on the roof with two basins full of water bombs and waited for targets. We launched at the white stripe crossing, between trees, laughing silently excpet for Erin has not mastered the stealth laugh yet. Motorcycles would go by and we would ready ourselves, but if it was a woman we called it off saying "Green flare, green flare. Abort."

Pedestrians slowed the proceedings, and during that time we would do tequila shots. We got some good hits, especially one guy who after having two explode around him, turned around slowly and gave us another go. He never did figure where they were coming from. Eventually all the bombs were used up. Mike turned to the water gun and sprinkled people in the bike lane.

The night drew on, Rhys and Jeni went downstairs, Erin rode home. Mike, Heather, and I sat at the table finishing the tequila and reminiscing about our experience, talking about America, people we missed and how we were going to miss each other. Mike talked about how there are friends and good friends, and that we are all good friends. "I don't want this moment to end," he said, voicing what all three of us were thinking.

We embraced, the realities of the eventual deaprture of all of us in turn was not on the horizon, but already here. "You're not leaving us," I told him, "You're dusting off the welcome mat in America for us, clearing the way. We'll be there right after." And I reminded him he's going to come out to Moab.

"I'm not one of those people who drop off," I said. "Once I make a connection, it's lifelong. Wherever you are, you'll always know me, always know what's going on." We talked about how funny it would be for all of us to run into one another outside of Notre Dame cathedral further down the road, and how crazy but unsurprising it would be. The tequila vanquished, the mosquitos relentless, we headed downstairs, hugged again, turned in.

It's a lucky pain; missing someone. Some people go their whole life without caring about someone outside their own skin. We traveled half a world away, found kindred spirits in Haimen of all places. Sadness is not a bad thing, nor should it be feared for sadness is proof that happiness happened. I accept everything is transition and every new experience teaching abroad will be compared to this one, the glory days, the briefest of 9 months. As this last week winds down, I savor the squeeze on my heart, because it's the proof.

June 17th: gulliver pain and roof snipers

Day 274

Using the class 1 "horror story" of cancelling next week's party kept the remaining classes in line. Kip (Very Angry), Percy, Vinnie Bufante, and Sleepy LaBeef were all well-behaved for once. I let them watch NBA at the end of class, drew a map on the board and showed them where Detroit and San Antonio were in realtion to Ohio.

After lunch, I tried to find Principal Shen to get reimbursed for the plane ticket. The tower was crawling with investor-type folk, none of whom could give me an answer to where he was. One guy held out his hand for my plane ticket and I laughed in his face. One: he was not remotely connected with the school. Two: He just wanted to look at the plane ticket because he was curious, not because he wanted to help. There seems to be an innapropriate curiosity in China, akin to a three year old who must reach out and touch the shiny thing. At the post office, clerks who aren't even waiting on me will come up and root through the contents of my box, not to check for contraband, but just to be nosy.

Erin had me deliver a note to the primary teachers claiming she was sick, when actually she had stayed up until 5:30am at the tents getting stinko, slept through her alarm. I dropped it off, walked to the arts building to practice, but the piano room was sickeningly teeming with mosquitos. I tried again to access the principal with no luck.

I developed a headache which the energy of class 7 did not help with. I was extra patient with them since they love me and were giving me presents and were just generally excited, as opposed to junior 2 classes who just want to whip me needlessly into a frenzy.

Class 8 had no AC so they begged me to go to the next room where there was AC. I agreed and then discovered it was a room-in-porgress with only desks and chalkboard, every chair creak, every chair scuff, every whisper, reverberated tenfold, made everything deafening. Not the best environment for a headachey Mr. Willis. I made it through somehow, without blowing my top and settled into my apartment, realizing I had just completed my last week of official teaching. Next week would be all parties (except class 1) and then a few days until exodus to the states. All so soon.

I rode up to the middle school, watched "No Good Deed" while the others had their school dinner. Mine consisted of popcorn and Oreos (not the best, but not Chinese food, which my stomach still wanted to spar with at every opportunity.) When they returned, Heather and I watched "Mallrats" until water balloon hour struck. Then, we took our post lobbed a few. Heather at one point went, "Now! Them!" and we hurled at two boys cycling by. I actually hit the kid instead of the ground before him. He got off the bike started cussing in Chinese at Mike's window.

We took the arsenal back downstairs, wnet to Mike's room under the guise of having some tequila with he and Allen, but really just wanted to check to see if the victims had gotten their attention. With the windows closed and the AC cranked, they were oblivious. Whew.

Mike came up with us and we barraged the citizens of Haimen, sparing working men and all women (unless they were biking and fucking around with their cell phone). We used up the whole pack, finished the tequila, made plans to get more the next day, generally laughed our asses off. Jose Cuervo tucked us in with a warm agave blanket over our chests.

June 16th: final triple threat peaks-n-valleys

Day 273

Another day, more peaks and valleys. The Ultraman class, a shining example of Junior 2 retaining their goodness, opened my morning and set high standards for the triple threat.

Class 1, was almost a carbon copy of the Harry/Monkey class from the previous day. I gave every chance in the world for them to shut up, finally resorting to cancelling the party. Still they jabbered away. I didn't feel as torn sentencing this group, as none of them are particularly memorable or likable, except Summer, whose grin when coupled with her behavior turns into a mocking mask.

The next class I begged to be good and warned them of the prices of excessive talking. Only one kid kept doing it so I singled him out. "I told you to shut up, why did you keep talking?"

He stood there stonewalling.

"I tell you not to talk and you talk. Now I want you to talk and you're not talking. Great. Apologize to the class and we will still have the party next week."

After a few church-mouse mumbles, I got him to say sorry at an audible volume. Curtis and Jason pointed at him, said "He is very foolish. He is a bad student."

"What was he talking about?" I asked them.

They pointed to the meek girl in front of him (Nancy I think her name is) and said "They were talking to each other."

"I did not see her talking. She may have been listening, but his mouth was moving and words were coming out."

"They are both bad students," they chimed. This made nancy burst into tears and put her head on the desk. Great. I made them apologize to her. The lesson should have been apologizing and hurting people's feelings. I told her she was not a bad student. "She is very clever and very nice. She says hi to me in the halls."

She looked up, wiped tears away, nodded. Needless drama. I discussed their bringing snacks and cameras next week and then the class descended into "colorwolf" and "player" accusations and all was normal again.

The next class, I summed up the day as one really good class, one very bad class, and one "ma ma hu hu" class. "Will you please be good today?" They said they would and they were. The last Thursday triple threat and I survived it.

I ran into Bella, Harry's girlfriend on the way back to my place. "Harry is your friend, right?"

"Ting bu dong."

"You know Harry?"

"Yes."

"He is your friend?"

"Yes." (I guess I just didn't ask it the right way.)

"His class was very bad. I told them if they talked there would be no party. They talked so they will get no party. I want to have a party with them. Can you tell Harry if his class apologizes, then we will have the party?"

She nodded, ran off with her friend Emily on her arm. Hopefully the word gets to them. I want to have fun with them, especially to give Jellybean some jelly beans. At dinner, Victoria sat with me, said "I am going on holiday this summer and want to buy you something. How much should I spend?"

Flattered, I almost choked on my bite of food. In Mandarin I said "A little, a little."

"I want to teach you Chinese."

"Ok."

We spent the remainder of the meal working on my pronunciation of "Mr. Willis" in Chinese and how to say "my name is." Why did she wait until the very last week to start interacting? She's not particularly shy, so maybe it's jus my looming expiration date calling for desperate measures.

I went up to the middle school and, empty of the crew who had gone to the blue pacman, I filled up an arsenal of water balloons in Heather's red basin. Erin came by and we watched "Willard" until it was late enough to commence the saturation bombing. The outdoor eatery people across the street were right there, so we had to be careful. After a couple of misfires (the new condom-thin balloons are hard to gauge the strength with which you can toss, lest it break in your midthrow) I let one hurl perfectly right in front of a motorcyclist. He stopped,tunred around and asked the eatery folk if they had done it. It was too risky to continue the operation with them still about, so we joined the others down at the tents for some liquid refreshment.

I brought the racquet and was glad I did, the mosquitos were legion. All I had to do was wave it in the air David Copperfield-style and a half dozen would be popping and sparking on it. When they started flying into my face and getting in my goatee, I'd had enough. I left, retired myself into the air conditioned confines and slept away the minutes until Friday's morning greeted me.

June 15th: an early bout of Junior 2-itis from Harry/Monkey class

Day 272

The day went well until the last class: the Harry/Monkey class. They are one of my favorites. I told them before class began that I was not fine and that my stomach did not feel good. This bought me 0.00 leniency. I had to tell them repeatedly to stop talking. Finally, I made the threat to make the entire class stand if talking continued. They talked, and so they stood.

This did not curb the chatter one iota. I made the threat that if they talked again, we would not have the party next week. They still talked. I seethed as I listened to the last row of students describing their fathers, burning inside at their total disregard for respect or compassion. I am paid to practice oral English, not to bark for silence. What really tore me up is that this was a good class, with some of my favorite students. Did someone swap crack rocks for the sugar cubes at coffee time?

The lesson finished, I had them sit. I told them curtly, "I told you if you talked, there would be no party. You talked so there is no party next week." I promptly left to stunned silence, or perhaps it was a group dumbfoundedness ("What did he say?"). Whichever, I was pissed. I expected it from the apathy crew, but Harry, Monkey and Emnite used to eat dinner with me. I guess they started on their junior 2-itis a little early.

I nibbled a little dinner in the dining hall and Steven sat with me, asked me about going back to America and such. "Er, David" he began, "I have not seen you in er long time."

"Yeah, I eat dinner other places."

"Yer, the food is not very delicious."

"Well, they serve the same things a lot," I said between bites of cucumber, "but also students would eat with me. Then they stopped and I was eating alone."

"Maybe they're shy because they only have a few phrases to say."

I shrugged, invited him to the party next week. He said he had exams to work on, but he'd try to make it. I also invited him to visit me in America and he thought "maybe I cannot go there, would be very difficult."

Went up to the middle school and joined the crew for tentness, although Mike was absent yet again. He's going to be gone soon and I wonder if he is withdrawing early so it won't be as hard to leave. We still have to rock one last huzzah before he takes off, but then he'll be coming out to visit me in Moab and to ride the Slickrock trail, show his some desert hospitality.

Erin joined us for a little bit, but rode home to take care of teaching whatnot. Rhys, Jeni, Heather and I watched "Empire Records" and killed mosquitos. Discovered towards the end of the slaughter that the door was open a crack. No one's fault but the engineer of the door. Like sticking your finger in the dike while leaving the tap running.

We lit a mosquito coil, passed into unconsciousness. I dreamt of hanging out with Sean at a really badass apartment and it was so realistic that waking up in China was even more disorienting than usual.

various recent pics

babyface debauchery





rhys and his carrot sculptures











the french place











istanbul



why i can't breathe

June 14th: Father's Day lesson and apathy resurgence

Day 271

Last official week of teaching (next week will be parties and photos and music and often eating snacks) and some of my students are starting to get sad. It's going to be rough, sicne there's 518 possible cases of breaking down, but then not every class is golden, as I was reminded by the first and last classes of the day.

The first class's typical lackadaisical energy deflated my morning jive. Not even the prospect of a party next week could rouse their heads off of hand perches. God, grade 2 is just mostly horrible all across the board. The next class, I could tell Victoria (my little class interpreter) was sad. After class she asked for my email address and I gave it saying,"Other students have asked for it, but no one has writeen to me."

"I will," she said."I think we will miss you very much."

"Me too. You are one of my favoriote students. You are very clever."

Lunch was hard. Ellie from class 7 sat by me. I asked her "How are you today?"

"Just-a so-so."

"I think i am also," I said, "I am very happy to go back to America, but very sad to leave all of you beautiful students."

She nodded and grinned painfully. So cute. The Friday classes next week are going to wrench my heartstrings the most. But before the day could get too sappy, the apathy crew reminded me of just how they got their prestigious title. First, Smalls was pouring hot water on the floor in the back during eye excercises. I told him to sit and he took his adolescent time getting to his desk, then took forever sitting down and then started reading a newspaper instead of doing the exercises.

I kicked him out.and he strutted out into the hall. I went out to make sure he went to the office and didn't just roam the halls like a bastard. That's what he was doing and I pointed to the office. "Why?" he asked.

"Because you're being bad. Now go."

He made a gesture of making eye exercises.

"You're going to be good now?"

He nodded and I ushered him back in the room. Stared him down while he did them. Class began and Noodles piped up, "Where is Jack?"

I looked around. "Where IS Jack?" He eventually came in ten minutes later, shirt wet, obviously fresh from a WC break. "Where were you Jack?"

"Oh, uh...doctor office."

"Really? You're ill?"

He nodded.

"You weren't at the WC?"

He shook his head.

"Look me in the eye and tell me 'Mr. Willis, I did not got to the WC.'"

He couldn't do it. He kept looking down.

"Liar! Sit down, you make me sick."

I started the Father's Day lesson of gathering information about their fathers, modeled after the Mother's day lesson. As one student was reciting the information, I looked over and Jack was stuffing something into his mouth.

"Are you eating a snack?! Stand up!"

I made him stand for the rest of the period. We continued and I saw that Noodles was playing a Gameboy. GOD DAMMIT! I took it away, made him stand. I was really considering cancelling the party for next week, but that would be unfair to the few shy good students I had in there, which I gave praise to after the multiple scoldings of their hooligan classmates.

I addresed the bad ones en masse: "Why are you bad?"

Silence.

"Do you think it is fun to make Mr. Willis angry?"

Silence.

"Do you?"

Jack muttered, "I will become good."

"When?! The year's over! Next class is the last one! WHEN will you start being good? Next year? When I'm not here?!"

Silence.

I left praising the good kids again, leaving it up in the air whether the bastards would be let in to the party next week. opefully the good kids will harangue the monsters and everything will be ironed out next week.

I rode over to the middle school after nightfall, a hundred mosquitos hitting me as I rode, bats filling the air, munching away. It gave me an idea to have domestic bats. I'm sure if you raise them from a very early age, they can be housebroken, and learn not to fly into "people personal space" in the house while they gobble up unwanted insects. I'll have to look into it. May be some money in that.

Heather started the process of getting her room together for the move, which is like excavating Egyptian tombs. An entire table-top of food was hiding in a drawer somewhere and she kept pulling out wads of money from clothing like she just murdered some Las Vegas highrollers. I downloaded the new System of a Down album "Mezmerize" and listened to it for the sixth time that day. Completely brilliant. Album of the year, hands down. And it's only the first half, the second comes out in the fall.

When Rhys got done with the Koreans, we watched Episode III (this time to the end) and then, with mosquito coils burning away, tucked in for a deserved rest.

June 13th: stomach recovery and mosquito blitzkrieg

Day 270

Woke and had some coffee. Spent most of the day catching up on blogging and such, spending more time than I cared to seat-belted to the toilet. If you see me trying to order salmon uncooked anywhere ever again, slap the hell out of me. It'll hurt less than the torment I've experienced the last 48 hours.

We passed the time in the afternoon eating pretzels (god what a joy to have pretzels after such a long pause, gotten in Shanghai) and cheese dip. You can't beat American crap food.

At around a quarter to seven, Heather, Mike and I went to Century Mart for water balloons. At the gate, Mike was apprehended by the business English guy who took us all to dinner the night I invented the "Pat Benatar" highball. I tried to say we were all shopping, but Mike followed through with his obligation.

There is now a giant fountain out front of Century Mart with gangways across it like some misguided casino attraction. I exaggeratedly threw a coin into it and did a little kid wish face, clasping my hands together tightly. A nearby onlooker got a kick out of that.

Rhys, Jeni, Heather and I cabbed it to Ming Tien for some easy-on-my-stomach Western fare like company sandwich and beef pizza. Then back again for Tom and Jerry cartoons and wine. (We expat teachers have such a grueling existence). The glass of wine should have lulled me to sleep, but then the mosquito assault began. In under fifteen minutes, I slaughtered wholesale more than 20 of the little blood-sucking bastards. My sleepy peace was destroyed.

June 12th: Shanghaijinks part 3: hellish busride and fever fighting

Day 269

Woke up with the fever like a throbbing starcore. I wracked my brain trying to trace its origin. Llinos said she had stomach problems and she had eaten at Istanbul, but so did Mike, Heather and Erin. None of them were having issues. Had I just let my body get run down? No, I get daily exercise on the bike, enough sleep, no stress. Certainly I didn't get myself worried sick enough for Matt's flight. Stomach pains and fever that came on pretty wicked. Then it occurred to me: the salmon sandwich at the French place. Raw salmon. That's what it was.

I've had the salmon revenge from Bruegger's bagels one time and my body was remembering. A-ha. Food poisoning. If this was like last time, it would take about 24 hours to run its course, with weak stomach fall-out for a couple days after. I wasn't even halfway done with this ordeal, but somehow, just knowing it was the salmon enabled me to break the fever.

I gathered my strength, we all went to the Western supermarket for odds and ends, even though we're all very close to experiencing the "in-situ" stuff in less than a month. We got to the bus station and I tried to will my Walkman to work again, which it did, but not perfectly. It started playing automatically, but every button I pushed monkeyed with the equalizer. I couldn't advance tracks nor stop the CD once it was going, but at least it had some functioning capabilties.

When we got on the bus, we sat towards the front so the bouncing would be diminished. It didn't matter. The roads jostled almost mockingly, as if they knew I had stomach duress. I found by propping one leg up I could absorb the bounce. The bus could not get to Haimen fast enough. I tried not to think about vomiting, listened to music, passed out a few times, hand cushioning the window and jostle.

We at last rolled onto the Haimen street and exited the hellish bus. I felt relieved, but not exactly good. Had I anything in my stomach I would have painted the curb with it. We went up to Heather's and were notified the power was out. No AC, no lights for the bathroom I desperately had to use. So much for just relaxing, eating popsicles and watching DVDs while I ascended Mt. Health. What else can go wrong today? The power wouldn't be back until 8pm, so Heather and I went to my place until then.

I showered, climbed into bed and sweated out all the moisture in my body. I drank juice, took meds, and was attended by Nurse Heather. We checked my temperature periodically: 101.7, then 101.5, then 99. I felt the fever break again, ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, felt better. We went to Heather's and watched Dodgeball and Scary Movie 3. (Comedies are medicine, no shit.) She insisted on taking my temperature again and it showed 98.2. Ha! Take that, salmon! My stomach was still a little fragile, but I could still laugh.

Sleep was weird dreams about a toy store in America and me confronting some lady who was talking shit about me: a totally Chinese incident in an American setting.

June 11th: Shanghaijinks part 2: Matt's folly and Bund view

Day 268

We woke, went to the Metro and ran into Mike on the way to the outdoor market. Bizarre considering how large the city is, but he was coming to meet us and the timing of all of us meeting there in the station was uncanny.

Matt shopped around for last minute gifts for his family, I picked up a belt buckle for Lariat B. Grim. We had lunch at the French place overlooking the market, and the energy was mixed. I felt excited for Matt, but sad that he was leaving, and anxious that he got to his flight on time. One of the biggest stresses in my life is punctuality, even if it's not my own. I had a salmon baguette sandwich, very tasty. It would have been better if it had capers and mustard (and had it not had "after effects," more on that later.)

We got back to the hotel, Matt grabbed his stuff and we all went to the Metro, said a hasty goodbye on the train, got off a few stops before he and Erin. Mike, Heather and I went to the old town to get more tiny wooden carvings. We had just settled in and had started setting aside what we wanted when Mike got an urgent call from Erin. Matt had left his passport in the hotel. We hastily left, told the cabbie not to spare the petrol. It was 2:20 and Matt's flight was at 4pm. If he didn't make it, he'd be out 800 USD and he'd still need to get back to the states.

Heather, whose Chinese dwarfs Mike's and mine combined, fled the hotel, Matt's documentation in hand, eyes wide and frantic, muttering "there's no way, there's no way." Mike and I watched some Asia Pacific, then accidentally fell asleep for a half hour. We woke, got some refreshments at the nearest store, only to have Erin and Heather walk in a few minutes later with even more beer. Matt made his flight with about five minutes to spare.

With a sigh of relief shared by the group as a whole, we headed out to Istanbul yet again for more Turkish decadence. The buffet had different enough dishes that kept things interesting, and the kebabs as always were stunning. We chatted about ghosts and how freezing to death is the best way to die, typical post-dinner fare.

Afterwards, we caught a Metro to find a hookah bar (although Llinos could not join us because of stomach problems.) We wandered around the park in the center of People's Square, taking in the lights of the city. The grass was strictly off-limits, which was frustrating. But it was understandable considering how most Chinese citizens stomp all over everything and litter and spit. Keep the grass beautiful by keeping it locked up. Sometimes you have to save China's beauty from the Chinese.

We decided to walk to the Bund, the main river port where international ships have been coming for hundreds of years. On the way, my limbs felt weighted down, my muscles sore and weak, which I attributed to all the pedestrianizing around the city. When we got to the Bund, most of the city's lights had been turned off, since it was after 11pm. The more annoying lights were still on, Nestle and such.

Erin bought some sparklers which triggered harrassment from every Tom, Dick and Wang selling their glowing pabble on the walkway. I felt extremely tired and on the cab ride back I could feel myself getting cranky. Back at the hotel, I got into bed, got shivers and my head felt hot. What the hell? This was sudden. Or maybe not so much, since the heavy limbs and weakness may not have been ordinary fatigue. I spent the night restless, an oven in my chest pouring columns of dry heat through my mouth and nostrils.

June 10th: Shanghaijinks part one

Day 267

After packing for the Shanghai weekend, I killed time blogging and such. Heather came by and we went to the arts building so I could test an edit in the bridge for "Novelty Rush." The way it was set up before the rhythm was kind of disjointed and awkward when it went into the change. The new way glides right in, perhaps a tad early (at least for new ears), but keeps the chugging-tempo going. There is no debate. It's my best song.

Matt and Erin came knocking and we sought cabbie to take us to Shanghai. That drew cabbies from all around, but the number of folks outnumbered the vehicles, so I suspected most of them were schills and yes-men for the actual drivers: "Aw yeah, he the best! He get you to Shanghai lickety-split, so fast you head spin!" We talked our price, one cabbie agreed and we were off. I opted to sit shotgun since I had a Walkman, but then it decided not to work again. D'oh! I passed the time reading my paper bloggings from other trips.

Once in Shanghai, we checked into the Amersino which took too long because the staff insisted on filling out our check-in sheets over again in all caps. I think the only sexual satisfaction the Chine derive is from paperwork. I wouldn't be surprised if their version of Penthouse was a collection of the most recent documents and fill-in forms, the centerfold emblazoned with a big sexy red official notarized stamp.

After a brief shower, we headed to Istanbul, ran into Llinos upstairs who was finishing a work discussion on her cell phone. We sat and then noticed the blonde girl at the big fancy table behind us was Karen. Our party had blossomed into eight, Nathan (bartender from Kangaroo Bar) and Chris having joined the debauchment. The more people, the nicer the table. The food was top notch as usual, as was the hookah.

Afterwards, we went to a place called Mural Bar, which after a 100 kuai cover charge, it's all you can drink. It's an underground place, dim and cavernous, resplendent with Buddhist imagery and statues (not exactly apropo). It started out alright, but the more the night progressed, the more the place filled with undesirable people. The men were mostly European men, walking sex agendas with no game. The women were mostly American, dressed in that slutty high school way, thinking that a clothing projection can replace character. Lonely clueless people wandering around in the dark; a metaphor in the flesh. The decent club was transformed into a frat party.

We had an early day the next day, stuff to do before we shipped Matt back, so we left the club, cabbed it back to Amersino, slept.

June 9th: Nantong debauchery: buffet and Babyface

Day 266

Had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, then rode back to the experimental school, practiced piano for a couple hours, tried to beef up the falsetto parts of "Jilted" and "Ultraviolet for the Mole" and the extended end note of "Quicksand."

After a shower, I headed back to the middle school, the sun I had wanted to soak in once again took a cloudy sabbatical. At 5:30, Heather and I unknowingly took the slow bus to Nantong, which got us there later than if we had taken the 6:00 bus. Aggravation. We met Erin and Matt at the hotel, gorged on the buffet: sushi, borscht, salad, beef tenderloins, shrimp with jelly, garlic toast, capers, and unlimited BBoss.

After we settled the check I went upstairs to play their piano (which every hotel should have) and found it tinny and ghetto despite its grand housing. I couldn't even finish "Novelty Rush" it was so out of tune. We went back to Matt's, the over to Ben's (who had AC) finished the Remy Silver, watched Asia Pacific and slaughtered mosquitos wholesale with the electric racquet.

Then on to Babyface, the new club in Nantong. A red carpet (of astroturf) and six bowing ladies dressed like princesses preceded the entrance. Inside, a very cool interior on par with clubs in America: two-floored darkness intercut with bold monoliths of red and blue light, a scrolling screen with Chinese characters around the border of the bar area, the bar itself transparent plexiglass, beneath which lay arranged red stones. The bartenders danced Cocktail style twirling bottles and shakers, the barlasses clad in red topped off your glass of beer with mechanized urgency, swinging their hips to the house beat but not exactly keeping time.

Erin danced in front of the DJ booth with a Chinese woman of Amazonian stature, eventually pulling Matt up to do a simulated grind. The dance floor was polluted with chairs and tables pushed to a corner, and dead center of it was a large steel pole that a dancer slid up and around at different intervals, pushing the boundaries of sexiness without ever really being effective. We finished up there, went to City Hunter so Matt could bid adieu to his fellow Westerner teaching clan.

Once inside City Hunter, things got nuttier. Matt and I initiated a shirts-off club, I gave a lapdance to Human League's "Don't You Want Me," and both Matt and myself humped a stuffed bear outside of a restaurant, which I "stole" and hid in the upper floor of the pub. The doorman from the restaurant came in to reclaim it, muttering "sorry, sorry" at me. I would have gotten my ass kicked in America for such a stunt, in China the victim apologized to ME.

Things were reaching their end and Heather and I caught a cab back to Haimen. The need to urinate kept me conscious, and once that was remedied, slumber overtook me.

June 8th: Haimen signature dish quest and water balloon deux

Day 265

Woke, watched "One Point O" just trying to get online, but the server was stapled to the ass of a dead sloth in a molasses pool. All of us had lunch at tree dumplings and Mike and I noticed they had a keg up front. Huzzah! Then they poured it and it was the dregs. Sad xmas! I can say without prejudice it's the worst beer I've ever had: flat, sweet, vile. Worse than Bud Light, even.

I rode back to my school, hopped the railing to the arts building, ran through both sets of songs, a madman howling away in air conditioned isolation. Afterwards, I secluded myself in my half-packed room, caught up on blogging, showered, went back to the middle school.

We talked up the Haimen-distinctive cuisine and set out to find some, Mike, Heather, Andy and I went to the place formerly known as Sandy's. The only Haimen dish that was successful was "meatballs in brown sauce" that could work as a pasta topper. Lao Ban and Other Guy from the tents showed up out of nowhere, joined us in some toasting, offered us ciagrettes. I think they felt shut out by our English conversation and left without warning, not out of spite, just out of utility. We talked about the West, skiing, future plans and such.

When we headed back across the street, Mickey was unlocking her bike and Heather grabbed her, carried her up to her room, undeterred by her complaint that she was "too tired" to hang out. I made Mike come with us to throw the rest of the water balloons at passers-by. We had a blast and soon Mike's reluctance melted into unabashed zeal, to the extent that he made plans to buy some more at Century Mart the following day.

Then came sweet delicious sleep, right on cue.

June 7th: pancakes and brief Nantongness

Day 264

Smoky haze and threats of rain spoiled plans to go to Langshan, a Buddhist temple right outside of Nantong. Heather and I, unwilling to let staying indoors ruin a day off, made pancakes from the instant batter (just add water!) that came in my Christmas box. First we went to Times and bought a pan as flat as they come, then some bananas. In the kitchen, we fired up the pan and oil, started the process, putting the finished cakes on a plate to keep warm in the microwave.

Chen Ping (Dongzhou's housekeeper and legend lady) stopped in, observed the proceedings and I urged her to try one. She took a bite, grinned,said "hen hao." Heather came back later with her and we made her try one with bananas and honey. She tried to wash our dishes and we had to shoo her out, laughing.

Around 4, we took a bus to Nantong to do some light shopping and hang out with Erin and Matt. I got some badass shorts, but the Chinglish shirts evaded our gaze. It was a few hours before dinner,so I got fries and Heather got a chocolate shake from McDonald's, despite my warning that a shake left on the sidewalk will harden into plastic (Someone back me up, here).

We wandered the streets of Nantong to kill time, assailed by beggars in matching blue communist uniforms (a beggars' union?), took a turn into a dead-end and finageled our way into a college campus. The exit deposited us right in front of Captain's Bar, our destination. Eerie.

We had a drink in the dark upper level of City Hunter Pub, a CD on the hifi designed to ruin my vacation: Richard Marx, Celine Dion, Carpenters, Boyz II Men. We chatted about music, wishing there was some real stuff on. The CD finally drove us out and we shot pool (badly) at Captain's until Matt and Erin arrived.

After dinner, we went back to Matt's flat, drank some Remy Silver and vanilla Coke (a tasty combo) watched "Cube" and discussed going to a new club called Babyface, but ultimately decided to go there on Thursday, as the collective energy of the group couldn't even operate a doorknob. After a brief drink at the greasiest restaurant in China, Heather and I caught a cab back to Haimen, who gave us to another cabbie before the city limits. The new cabbie did not spare any petrol whatsoever. He barrelled around blind turns, over bumpy throughways, and dark country roads with all the same winning urgency. The ride nearly made me sober, I confess.

Sleep arrested me.

June 6th: name calling and water balloon revenge

Day 263

The big trend in and around Haimen right now is to burn rapeseed chaffs. The smoke blocks out the sun like nuclear winter and makes breathing a challenge. So I didn't wake up in the best of moods. I wanted to get some sun, there was none. I wanted to do laundry, but Nigel and his irritating wife were already using the machine. I wanted to listen to Jenn's radio show, but the server wouldn't allow it. Why did I even wake up?

I rode out of the school and there were hundreds and hundreds of strange students bussed in, filing through the gate. I had to wait for a break in the madness and all the while, they pointed, felt compelled to remark "Lao Wai!" Hugely inapproriate. I'd like to see them go to Over the Rhine and walk down the street, point and go "Black person!" I have no idea why their shy nature doesn't stay their tongue when it comes to this.

I endured, tried to tell myself perhaps I was the first ever foreigner they had ever seen in their life, rode off trying to get in a better frame of mind. I went to Times for laundry soap.I browsed for shorts and two worker ladies chimed "Lao Wai." I glowered at them, left their bullshit shorts section. I want to design a shirt that says in Mandarin "Don't call me lao wai!" I bought crackers and soap, left, trying not to hear anyone else say it on my way out.

As I unlocked my bike from out front a kid walked by, said "Lao wai." Not to engage me in conversation, just an out-loud identifying statement: "Tree! Car! Whitey!" I looked around pissed. "Where? Lao wai? Goddammit!" I came close to exploding. Heather and I ate cheese and crackers, hid from the world, watched a movie to take my mind off China. We watched Kill Bill (both volumes) which is rife with Asian culture.

Night fell and I got the water balloons out of my bag. We filled some in the kitchen and took them up on the roof in Heather's red basin. Jeni joined us and I genuinely enjoyed chucking them at passing bicyclists. For the first time all day I felt good. I was having revenge on China as a whole calling me "lao wai" all day. I didn't hit anyone directly, but was the master of "very near" precision. The last victims actually stopped and started looking up. Now, if you're in water balloon range,why would you linger? We silently cackled on the roof, ducked down, feeling that rush of mischief from those 5th and 6th grade school years.

After two barrages, Heather and I took a cab to Ming Tien, got pineapple pizza and company sandwich. I played piano so they'd shut off whatever god-awful shite was being piped in, but as I left the platform, it was snapped right back on. "Would a little silence kill you?" The cab back smelled like a college dorm: stale smoke and ripe socks. I couldn't roll down my window fast enough.

Sleep was achieved after the severe execution of two mosquitos, sizzling on the racquet deliciously.

June 5th: stealthbusters and intellectual drinking games

Day 262

Heather and I went to Century Mart for some gin and were followed by some guy. We stopped and let him get ahead, started following him. He would stop and examine something like shoes, and we would, too. We finally edged him into a purse store and he had to act like he was browsing for purses. I cannot imagine China has any effective poker players nor spies as they are devoid of any type of stealth skill. When they point and whisper about us on the street, they may as well be smashing kittens with a frying pan and yodeling Englebert Humperdinck ballads.We picked up some juice and tissues, were followed by a gaggle of grade schoolers who felt compelled to browse for juice at the same moment we did. It's cute when kids do it, lame when adults.

For lunch we ate KFC. (Before any of you get on your high horse about being in China and having the authentic cuisine when it's available, I've eaten it just about every day for every meal for nine months. I haven't cheated myself here.) There was a girl outside the window, a little grifter beggar girl who was playing up her pout at us through the glass, but I caught her cracking a smile a couple times. That, and she hid the food she was eating when she noticed us observing her.

I saw a few of my students, and there was some odd dance thing going on outside. Kids were lined up wearing little cardboard kid's meal crap and following the moves of two KFC worker girls in front.Very strange. We walked back, tossed the frisbee around with Mike for a bit, then went inside and cooled off with some AC and Tsingtao.

We eventually went up to the roof and played a random word drinking game where you say a word that begins with the last letter of the word that preceded it. (Example: diplomacy, young, grow, etc.) Jeni seemed particularly adept at giving the next person a Y word. (If you say the same word you must drink, and if you stall for too long, you drink.) What a total English nerd pastime.

Night fell and we rode out to Pizza House (Chinese food lately has not been agreeing with my stomach). Jeni joined us, but Rhys's bike is fubar at the moment, so he stayed behind. Afterwards we hit the bakery and outside some insane bastards were letting off fireworks in the street, celebrating the opening of yet another shop or restaurant. The booms set off car alarms and the boxes were set up too close to one another and sparks from one display were igniting others, ascending fireballs were colliding in midair and raining sparks down on the sidewalk. I sensed danger and went across the street out of harm's way. One box exploded on the street, shooting fiery debris into observers and traffic alike. Great Jesus.

We rode back, had some highballs, watched Tom and Jerry cartoons until that faithful vagabond Sleep arrived.

June 4th: oceanic letdown

Day 261

Woke, caffeinated, went for some bakery foodstuffs, but nothing was there. Mickey came by and we convinced her that the pantyhose and heels she was wearing was probably not conducive to walking in the sand. She removed them and wore Heather's spare flip-flops. On the way out the gate she hid herself because wearing a dress sans pantyhose did not adhere to the moral customs of China and she didn't want people talking, for even shopowners in a small town would spread gossip about a "no pantyhose" event such as this. Laughable, considering all the "pink places" we passed untorched and unpicketed which everyone knows to be whorehouses.

We caught the bus toward Qidong and after an hour, we got off at a shipyard piled on top of itself with the long wooden barges, were pointed in the direction of the beach. At long last: the massive sea, waves rolling in, sandy beach, vastness....Wrong. As we climbed the crest, what lay before us was miles of muddiness, with people digging here and there for crabs. The ocean could not even be seen. This was one whopper of a tide and wholly disappointing. We actually make it to the ocean and it's not even there. Almost too sad to laugh at.

I unfurled the kite that I borrowed from Jeni, the wind carrying it up immediately. It was less flying it than walking it down the beach, trailing above and behind like a pet, its shadow dancing on the path ahead of us. Swimming was out of the question, we walked along the rim to find a suitable stop to have a picnic snack. Fighter jets soared overhead with such frequency that we suspected maybe China was at war with Japan. We rounded a dead-end where some sort of construction operation was going on: an inflatable estuary filled with water and a grand pipe dumping waste water into where the ocean should be. Great.

We found a bridge and ate our snacks and jelly beans, a delightful view of a waterway if you ignored the slope of garbage. We walked back through a village where every citizen was involved in some stage of rapeseed harvest: whether beating the chaffs with a stick, heaving bags onto a cart, sweeping and sorting. We got curious looks as we sauntered down the main promenade, chiefly because my shirt was off. I figured my chest hair would distract them to the point where they wouldn't notice Mickey's lack of hose.

We caught a ride on the back of a trailer sat trustingly atop several bags of rapeseed. The two gents drove us to the bus stop, but the last one had left at 5pm. We got in a taxi and he sped us off, got us back to Haimen in half the time.

We cleaned up, met Mickey at the restaurant next to the bakery, were sat right at the window, so everyone who passed us got a good intrusive look at our chewing. We ate Haimen mutton, gong ba ji ding (which is supposed to be boneless, but I found the one bone) a bacon, bean and winter melon dish, and spicy beef with lurking bean sprouts and rice noodles. Tasty business.

We got bakery stuff, said bye to Mickey, went back to Heather's room and watched "Laurel Canyon." It had been a day of prolonged walking and sleep swooped in to claim us on cue.


Heather and Mickey









lack of ocean

June 3rd: English name bonanza and Friday soccer

Day 260

Doling out English names all week made me go a little nuts at the end, striving for unique names after hearing hundreds of Jays, Justins, Marys, and Toms. By the last two classes I gave names to the tune of Jarvis, Cedric, Upton, Percy, Val, and such. The next Westerner who teaches them is going to wonder where the hell they got these names and I'll be laughing somewhere thinking about it.

After classes I rode my bike around the track and found the Ultraman class playing soccer, and at their behest joined in. It was a clusterfuck, no one in any discernable position or side, but it was fun nonetheless. Julian was easily the best one out there, with some fundamental skills like trapping and volleying in addition to some blazing dribbling. A talent scout should scoop him up. His side scored three and my side, despite several attempts, could not quite get the ball through the nets. Perhaps if I knew exactly who my teammates were, I wouldn't pass to an opponent.

My soccer instincts are intact, and still surprise me. I hardly think about those years (except the Crystal Tissue team who almost took state), in fact it seems like a different person that happened to, but put me on a field with a soccer ball and my mind snaps into that mode, those years of drilling and practice take over and I'm like a Manchurian candidate, a sleeper agent unleashed.

When night fell we secured ourselves at the tents, at Matt and Erin's request. Matt leaves next Sunday, the first of our crew to make that exodus back West, so it was kind of a send-off even though most of us will be frequenting Nantong this week with all our days off. Keg beer poured freely and we fellas initiated "shirts-off" club in hopes Lao Ban would do the same. He wanted no part of the T-shirt turban madness.

We staggered back to Heather's room and started watching Episode III, but Erin started falling asleep. She and Matt left before the halfway point, Matt not upset because as he said, he'll be seeing it with his dad in the theater in a week. What a crazy thing to think about, goings-on in the other side of the world and joining the fracas soon. Rhys and Jeni left as well, right at the Wookiee battle, which Rhys was enthused about and Jeni had to drag him a little out the door.

Heather, Mickey and I were going to finally go to the beach tomorrow, so we turned in.

June 2nd: fixed volume students and double good news

Day 259

In the Ultraman class Lu Jian gave his English name as James, but then some other kid in class had that name too. I dubbed him Julian because then he would be named after the son of a Beatle and it only required switching two letters in his name.

I had to shout insanely at one class in an effort for them to speak louder. Usually when someone leans in with a cocked head, hand behind ear saying "What? Pardon? Be louder" you'd expect the student to say it again with increased volume. However, Chinese students are painfully shy and/or dim and will say it at the same or even a decreased volume.

Two bits of good news came my way. The first: next week I will only teach Friday afternoon (which will be Wednesday classes) thus giving me a six day weekend, and only a half day before the weekend again. Two: I am done with classes on the 24th, so I can leave whenever after that. I really only have two weeks of teaching left, one of which will be a party week full of snacks and music and picture taking.

I went to the music shop, played a few songs into the first album before a Chinese guy came in, stood and listened. Via Heather's translation, it was uncertain what he was doing there. He was neither shop owner, nor parent of a pupil. I nailed "Novelty Rush (Bail Out)" thus showing my performance mettle in front of strange audiences. I can't wait to play out in Cincinnati and Moab.

Mike, Heather, Jeni and I went to the restaurant on the corner for hot pot, a little late and loopy from beer. I expanded on my "groceryjacking/ grocery pirate" tangent. The meal seemed a five minute blur of laughing and garlic clove hunting. We returned to Heather's room and started watching "Mysterious Object at Noon" but we all know what happens with watching black and white films after 10pm.

June 1st: postal forethought and electric racquets

Day 258

Woke with a bit of a pain in the gulliver, my smart plan to "get stinko" had ramifications. Until my coffee kicked in, I feared I would spend my surprise day off mending. Once human again, I tried to go to the arts building to practice, since no students meant free reign on the pianos. However, the arts building is perched on the bank of the pond and since the mop ladies leave windows open to dry their damp streaks, the corners and walls were crawling with mosquitos. If you blurred your eyes, it looked like television static, nauseating.

I needed the electrified racquet I bought at Times: a portable battery-powered bug fryer that sizzled those little fuckers with a satisfying pop and accompanying spark. Had I brought it along I could have reenacted Anakin taking out the Jedi academy.

I returned to my place, piano itch unscratched, packed up stuff for Montana's box to ship. I went to a less busy branch in hopes I could get out of there without too much hassle. They spoke no English so we pantomimed a lot. My dude had to investigate every piece I was shipping, unwrapping what I had wrapped, looking at every DVD. I made a pantomime of writing on my palm, said, "While you're bullshitting around with that, let me fill out the paperwork." Multi-tasking, China. Try some.

After hunting and pecking, my dude said something to his lady partner, she called someone, they both stared at the screen. Finally, they let me behind the counter and typed in the information myself. Awesome. This could possibly be filed under forethought.

I cycled over to the DVD shop and returned two bunk ones, looked forever to find something worthy to exchange. Eventually I found some and left, rode to the middle school. The day was hazy, overcast, residually smoky, thickly hot.

Heather and I tried to watch "My Name is Modesty," but it was poorly acted, poorly shot, poorly written, just generally piss-poor. It was like a television pilot no one wanted, so they turned into a "feature film" hoping to fool people. You didn't fool me, you bastards! Quentin Tarantino produced it, probably only as a favor to Scott Spiegel. I wonder if their friendship has had a falling out over it.

We gathered the crew for another round of quesadillas, lest the tortillas go bad before consumption. Jeni had used the mosquito racquet on our interlopers with glee, a murderous twinkle in her eye as she gazed upon her sparking, twitching victims. After tortillas were used up, we made nachos with the remaining corn chips.

Against better judgment, Rhys wanted to do the kegs at the tents. I was feeling top billing, but this time I would not declare a desire for "stinko" status. We went down and were bestowed watermelon. After one liter of the keg stuff, we went back inside. The wind had picked up, cooling everything off a little too well. I got decent sleep for the dreaded Thursday.