Well apparently Shanghai is too cool to have an autumn. It went form 25’c one day to 10’c the next. So all of sudden I am having to go from planning my how to manage sweat patches to starving off the goosebumps.
It is messing with my mind a bit. In Wellington pretty much when the sun and blue skies are out it wont be that cold. But here its crisp as. This Friday as I rode my bike to work in t-shirt and hoodie I felt like I was skiing naked down the slopes of Cadrona. ( Sorry for the mental imagery that will stay with you all day, if you are reading this blog in the morning)
Not wanting the elements to break my routine I set off for a run on Saturday. It was 0’c. I hadn’t really registered what that would mean so I set off in my stop me sweaty adidas Climacool / Formotion t-shirt and my breathable running shorts. When the lift opened downstairs I thought I had got out on the wrong continent and was somewhere in arctic circle. I hardened up and employed the old Ill warm up as I run theorem.
However after about 20mins I still had no sensation in my feet and my nipples were reaching the intersections about half a minute before the rest of me.
I had taken the precaution of wearing gloves but that wasn’t really helping the situation. People were staring at me hard out today, but more likely at my choice of running attire. My kit was a juxtaposition to the majority who were supporting full Siberian snow search and rescue trench coats.
About 40 minutes into my run I was still mostly numb but realized I was now starting to experience pain in my nether region. I then came to the realization that wearing shorts with extra ventilation was a bit of a poor idea in these conditions. Suffice to say I sacrificed one of my gloves to full time todger duty to fight the good fight against frostbite. The story ends well as all of me made it home eventually after 17k’s out and about.
Perhaps I will stick to running on the treadmill for the time being.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
And they are off......
Well after crying out for so long for a hint of audience participation it would be a shame not to answer Nick’s call and write a bit of an update on the training.
I have been training well albeit loosing 7 days last week when my father was in town. However the goal of actually running the Shanghai half marathon has taken a bit of a turn for the worst. You see they closed the registrations and I was on the wrong side of the equation at the time. So after I pleaded for them to let me enter and being given the’ talk to the let because you know you ain’t right’ treatment. I left it with saying ‘ well I’m just going to turn up anyway see you on the 30th of November. So at this stage I can’t run. But I hope to find an alternative means of entering the race, somehow.
So that was a terrible effort from me. But also a bad effort from them that their office was a 40 minute cab ride away and I had to register in person during work hours, so that I could sit their prescribed health check.
To be honest I am not sure what the health check is designed to achieve. I mean if I think there is a good chance my heart might explode at the halfway mark then I would probably weigh pro and cons of entering. What are they taking, a resting pulse rate? I am sorry sir you haven’t got a pulse it appears you may be suffering from what we call dead and therefore fail the minimum entry requirement and are unable to take part.please try again next year?
I will continue training anyway and will consider making a rival rebel league marathon race on the same day. I ran my fastest 1500 on Wednesday at 4:48 happy with the improvement. But at this stage Nick Willis is still going to lap me in a 1500m which is a not ideal. So still plenty of work to be done. Although I notice that Nick Willis is a lean 69 kg’s. And if we are honest about it, me carting an extra 26kgs around the track is holding me back somewhat. So before the gun goes off. Ill give Nick 57 packets of anchor 1pound butter and see how that affects his race. Although in saying that I am not sure where he would put it. To be honest I am not sure where I put it either. What you going to do with all the junk? 57 packets of butter, seems a bit high. Either we fight fair or I start petitioning the Olympic committee to create weight grades in track events. Then I might find myself in the black trunks jostling for position on the heavyweight division starter line.
I have been training well albeit loosing 7 days last week when my father was in town. However the goal of actually running the Shanghai half marathon has taken a bit of a turn for the worst. You see they closed the registrations and I was on the wrong side of the equation at the time. So after I pleaded for them to let me enter and being given the’ talk to the let because you know you ain’t right’ treatment. I left it with saying ‘ well I’m just going to turn up anyway see you on the 30th of November. So at this stage I can’t run. But I hope to find an alternative means of entering the race, somehow.
So that was a terrible effort from me. But also a bad effort from them that their office was a 40 minute cab ride away and I had to register in person during work hours, so that I could sit their prescribed health check.
To be honest I am not sure what the health check is designed to achieve. I mean if I think there is a good chance my heart might explode at the halfway mark then I would probably weigh pro and cons of entering. What are they taking, a resting pulse rate? I am sorry sir you haven’t got a pulse it appears you may be suffering from what we call dead and therefore fail the minimum entry requirement and are unable to take part.please try again next year?
I will continue training anyway and will consider making a rival rebel league marathon race on the same day. I ran my fastest 1500 on Wednesday at 4:48 happy with the improvement. But at this stage Nick Willis is still going to lap me in a 1500m which is a not ideal. So still plenty of work to be done. Although I notice that Nick Willis is a lean 69 kg’s. And if we are honest about it, me carting an extra 26kgs around the track is holding me back somewhat. So before the gun goes off. Ill give Nick 57 packets of anchor 1pound butter and see how that affects his race. Although in saying that I am not sure where he would put it. To be honest I am not sure where I put it either. What you going to do with all the junk? 57 packets of butter, seems a bit high. Either we fight fair or I start petitioning the Olympic committee to create weight grades in track events. Then I might find myself in the black trunks jostling for position on the heavyweight division starter line.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Lets make it complicated
I went to Hong Kong for the Bledisloe the other week, but we can talk about that later.
Once off the plane there are several key decisions one has to make which determine the enjoyment of the next 1 ½ hours of your life. It is unfortunate you often have to make these important decisions when your legs don’t quite have all their feeling and your sinus are still at 32,000 feet.
It bemuses me how difficult and time consuming the next two tasks are. Firstly, Convince this country you are not dodgy, despite you passport photo looking like you are a recovering alcoholic in regression. Task two, nn a slightly more demanding and inquisitive way you ask, can I have my stuff back?
Once off the plane I always make a fairly solid attempt to beat as many people as possible to the counter. Made easier by a long walk and most passengers having short legs. These Asian hub airpoints really sort the endurance passengers from the faders who are still waking up or weighed down by too much free soft drink.
At immigration you have to pick which queue will do the business. You always have a couple of queues to chose from. You quickly weigh up any advantage in ratio of passengers to number of immigration officers. Similarly you have to weigh up the passengers in the queue who look like they will have a tough time getting in. We all have basic training in this from our trips to KFC to be suspicious of the Pacific Island family who is ordering on behalf of the 5 tables of people sitting down by the window.
Making snap un PC judgments based on appearances is a bit harder in Asian airports because most passengers look the same or are well-dressed whiteys with nothing to hide. It is far easier in LAX where you are asking for trouble lining up behind a South American family. The Arabian brothers are usually ok until their study purposes explanation, is ‘I’m here to attend a flight school’
Anyway, I thought I had picked my queue well but got jipped when one of our two processors went full time onto a VIP queue. We were down to one guy who took his job way to seriously. By the time I got to him after nearly 50 minutes (which is like dog years in an airport.)I made the slightly miscalculated mistake of lobbing my passport in frustration rather than delicately placing it down like a loaded weapon. He looked up a bit stunned and asked in rhetorical manner if there was a problem. Having been silently simmering in the queue, I was so ready to unleash the beast but thought better of utilizing this particular moment. I said there was no problem and on he went.
We hadn’t got off on the right foot. So I think he was looking for ways to make mischief. Hard to do when travelling on a Kiwi passport because everyone loves us. Although he did drum up a curly question to try and trick me when he asked what my name was. This must be the one thing people forget to remember when presenting falsified travel documents.
Detention avoided now on to find me luggage. I was wondering where it was when I remembered I didn’t have any to wait for. Some habits are hard to break. The good thing about travelling with my fellow Asian is that they treat the carry on luggage rules like their traffic lights. Its often like they have nipped into Pak ‘ n save and done the weekly shop before then got on board. So I have now taken to taking the piss too and usually avoid have to check anything in. The way of the future I reckon.
Once off the plane there are several key decisions one has to make which determine the enjoyment of the next 1 ½ hours of your life. It is unfortunate you often have to make these important decisions when your legs don’t quite have all their feeling and your sinus are still at 32,000 feet.
It bemuses me how difficult and time consuming the next two tasks are. Firstly, Convince this country you are not dodgy, despite you passport photo looking like you are a recovering alcoholic in regression. Task two, nn a slightly more demanding and inquisitive way you ask, can I have my stuff back?
Once off the plane I always make a fairly solid attempt to beat as many people as possible to the counter. Made easier by a long walk and most passengers having short legs. These Asian hub airpoints really sort the endurance passengers from the faders who are still waking up or weighed down by too much free soft drink.
At immigration you have to pick which queue will do the business. You always have a couple of queues to chose from. You quickly weigh up any advantage in ratio of passengers to number of immigration officers. Similarly you have to weigh up the passengers in the queue who look like they will have a tough time getting in. We all have basic training in this from our trips to KFC to be suspicious of the Pacific Island family who is ordering on behalf of the 5 tables of people sitting down by the window.
Making snap un PC judgments based on appearances is a bit harder in Asian airports because most passengers look the same or are well-dressed whiteys with nothing to hide. It is far easier in LAX where you are asking for trouble lining up behind a South American family. The Arabian brothers are usually ok until their study purposes explanation, is ‘I’m here to attend a flight school’
Anyway, I thought I had picked my queue well but got jipped when one of our two processors went full time onto a VIP queue. We were down to one guy who took his job way to seriously. By the time I got to him after nearly 50 minutes (which is like dog years in an airport.)I made the slightly miscalculated mistake of lobbing my passport in frustration rather than delicately placing it down like a loaded weapon. He looked up a bit stunned and asked in rhetorical manner if there was a problem. Having been silently simmering in the queue, I was so ready to unleash the beast but thought better of utilizing this particular moment. I said there was no problem and on he went.
We hadn’t got off on the right foot. So I think he was looking for ways to make mischief. Hard to do when travelling on a Kiwi passport because everyone loves us. Although he did drum up a curly question to try and trick me when he asked what my name was. This must be the one thing people forget to remember when presenting falsified travel documents.
Detention avoided now on to find me luggage. I was wondering where it was when I remembered I didn’t have any to wait for. Some habits are hard to break. The good thing about travelling with my fellow Asian is that they treat the carry on luggage rules like their traffic lights. Its often like they have nipped into Pak ‘ n save and done the weekly shop before then got on board. So I have now taken to taking the piss too and usually avoid have to check anything in. The way of the future I reckon.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The diary of a not as fat man
Every since i started sitting at a desk from 9-5 there has been a little more of me to love. I never really got around to doing much about it. However since my arrival in Shanghai a few things exasperated the problem. Cans of coke being 50c. Magnum Ice creams being 70c. and a whole plethora of new flavors of potato crisps to discover. That with an esky friendly cricket team and I well and truly was up the creek and too fat to reach the paddle.
However, enter from stage right a few full length mirrors in my apt which don't lie plus and an impending wedding day. and viola you have motivation.
Now I have been on a few health kicks in my time. The most famous of which would have been my apple and oat bag diet of 2002. This is when you nourish yourself by buying bulk 2g bags of green apples and Alison Holt's Oat muesli from the New World bulk bin. So whenever you wanna snack you head for the Dr repealer's or dish your hand in the oat bag. This does at the face of it sound like a diet more suitable for Donkey's at petting Zoo's but anyhow. Adding this to a whole heap of running gets you in great shape and obviously keeps you very regular. My friend Ben had great success on this after I convinced him of the merits.
Currently I am running a fair bit which is going well. I have now stuck to doing laps of a track near my house. no people and the smell is consistent for the whole run. Which I now regard as paramount for optimal running. Nothing was worse than running the pavements and finding yourself short of breath at the 40m mark deeply panting. And just at the moment you inhale you pass the scent of someone steaming congealed tortoise vomit on the exhaust pipe of a parked bus. So the track is just far more reliable. Although I am convinced running clock-wise for 30 miles a week will give me massive left peg muscles.
I got my first looking trim comment the other day which usually is the point I say to myself job done and go straight for the pie warmer. But for now my eye is on the greater prize.
I have noticed some marked personal improvements though. mainly I have been reacquainted with a few shirts down the far end of my wardrobe. The buttons were previously gripping on for dear life but now are far more relaxed in their daily duties.
Also it must be said I am fetching far less lint from my belly button.
That thing used to be slightly too deeper abyss than most stray threads could recover from. I was thinking of installing one of those fish net jobs they use in the dryers. Even thought about going head to head with the flat dryer over a month.
Had I actually won I am sure I could have sold the patent as a clinically approved medical test for obesity. who needs the Body Mass Index telling you the Pavlova's are catching up when you can catch enough lint in your puku cup to satisfy a dust buster.
However, enter from stage right a few full length mirrors in my apt which don't lie plus and an impending wedding day. and viola you have motivation.
Now I have been on a few health kicks in my time. The most famous of which would have been my apple and oat bag diet of 2002. This is when you nourish yourself by buying bulk 2g bags of green apples and Alison Holt's Oat muesli from the New World bulk bin. So whenever you wanna snack you head for the Dr repealer's or dish your hand in the oat bag. This does at the face of it sound like a diet more suitable for Donkey's at petting Zoo's but anyhow. Adding this to a whole heap of running gets you in great shape and obviously keeps you very regular. My friend Ben had great success on this after I convinced him of the merits.
Currently I am running a fair bit which is going well. I have now stuck to doing laps of a track near my house. no people and the smell is consistent for the whole run. Which I now regard as paramount for optimal running. Nothing was worse than running the pavements and finding yourself short of breath at the 40m mark deeply panting. And just at the moment you inhale you pass the scent of someone steaming congealed tortoise vomit on the exhaust pipe of a parked bus. So the track is just far more reliable. Although I am convinced running clock-wise for 30 miles a week will give me massive left peg muscles.
I got my first looking trim comment the other day which usually is the point I say to myself job done and go straight for the pie warmer. But for now my eye is on the greater prize.
I have noticed some marked personal improvements though. mainly I have been reacquainted with a few shirts down the far end of my wardrobe. The buttons were previously gripping on for dear life but now are far more relaxed in their daily duties.
Also it must be said I am fetching far less lint from my belly button.
That thing used to be slightly too deeper abyss than most stray threads could recover from. I was thinking of installing one of those fish net jobs they use in the dryers. Even thought about going head to head with the flat dryer over a month.
Had I actually won I am sure I could have sold the patent as a clinically approved medical test for obesity. who needs the Body Mass Index telling you the Pavlova's are catching up when you can catch enough lint in your puku cup to satisfy a dust buster.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Electile Disfuntion
Now when sports goes bad the next best thing you can do is blame the Government. So here I go.
The Election is on soon. I have my voting papers and I'm set to cast something a little bit special this time around. To be fair I have not been able to follow this election that closely. What is about to happen here is that I am about to digress into a massive diatribe for which you all be left slightly dumber for having read, but that won't stop you now will it :-)
Anyone who fervently seeks out political knowledge will school me at the end of this post. But this is how I see it. It is a bit stink that politics has to get so far beyond the common man. It is so hard to figure out what the actual issue is to be able to form an opinion. But I do like exercising the ability to have an opinion.
New Zealand politics in recent years has just become a bit of a waste of time. Why do we need so many politicians? There is the side who won plus a couple of annoying drunken uncles tag alongs who piss and moan from the cheap seats. But, as soon as the music comes on at the wedding out they come and into their own with the caterpillar or electric slide. And suddenly the have the attention and votes of all in sundry.
Any system that suddenly gives the party that only 5% of the country supports gets more power than the team that came second with 40% is bit unrepresentative. How many crazy weird bills have the boys on left been able to pass in the last 9 years? In the words of scribe "not many if any". But it seems those sneaky Greens with the compulsory support of Aunty Helen get to a few dictate terms. That just doesn't seem right.
Why have 120 people in parliament? when even on the conscious votes, people support their own team. so effectively you only have a ya and nah. So why not just have two people in parliament that would be way cheaper. The party that wins gets to be called ya and the other party that the nah. Much easier for madam speaker to control as well. She has a a tough sandpit to control at the moment with all those Tonka Wielding teething memebers booing and hissing.
What is also baffling me at the moment is National looked like they were a shoe in and now Labour has made a come back. They were sure to be gone for stuffing up the housing market and blowing out our economy but just in the nick of time the whole world blows out too, so it doesn't seem like its their fault. Talk about a lucky break.
The only thing that seems to have swayed the vote was this student allowance re formulating. I benefited greatly from the current scheme. Turning 18 during my 7th form year I was able to collect $80 a week to help further my tertiary studies. I am sure you can read through the details on www.loophole.com. The last election Labour manged to squeeze by with their interest free student loans. Nice dangling of a juicy carrot there I must admit.
But yet again not actually offering policies to make a difference to the things that need the cash. I am sure people were more concerned about the NZ healthcare being there for them when there immune system had given up the ghost rather than getting a break on the student debt.
Common major debt owner - I realize now that taking out all my course related costs to go snowboarding trips and fueling my binge drinking was a bad idea. Can you hook a brother up? Yet again people not owning up to the consequences of their decisions and then getting rewarded.
In saying that do make fees cheaper for flipping doctors and teachers and other essential skills. Why create barriers in these areas? Rather than this new policy which just encourages everyone to get a degree in whatever. Surely giving just about everyone an allowance and free loan money will encourage more people to get a BA in English or Art History. Which is about as useful as granting voting rights to turnips.
Its also a bit weird that the whole thing is a not more issue by issue. Given the digital age we are living in. you could pretty much muster up a referendum every month on the key issues. and then actually have the whole county vote online. I know this cuts down on the tea ladies and cucumber and asparagus club sandwhiches, which I will be sad to see go. Then we can just cut out the middle men and people get their vote on. And you have can easily tell what percentage of each demograpcic, sociographic, holographic, racialographic has voted to ensure that its not getting completely swung out my people with more spare time or access to the web. easy peasy.
I should wrap this up because i will go on forever. For New Zealand to survive it needs to start making some cash. When we have more money coming in from our exports then all of a sudden we don't have to sit around holding hands hoping for the best but we can start to raise the expectations bar on our public services. Due to our blatant insignificance on the world scale we need to get our selves cranking in business, retain our best people because we can pay them properly and fill the govt coffers with taxes from new revenue streams. Rather than the current train of thought which is more along the lines of milking the citizens when the pay goes in, when they spend it and on every cent of the interest on the money they don't spend.
I guess this all makes me a little bit right wing. But really it comes down to the fact that I'm just a bit over Helen Clarke. and so for the moment I batting to get her constantly snarky arse out. but I don't want to be left on everything for the next four years. Besides, If she gets in for another term then she will make it to ten years at the helm of New Zealand which means she will probably make a commemorative CD. and more likely than not TV One will play a 5 minute visual tribute to Helen Clarke. Which as you can imagine will be 5 minutes of her 'smiling' to the backing of I see Red by the Split Endz.
Isn't free speech great. probably should only be granted to those with an understanding of what is going on but anyhow. If I was Chinese writing this about my own prez I would actually be killed tomorrow or put though a 're education program'. So I count myself lucky.
Personally I would love to vote for someone that was going to help preserve the nearly not existent moral fabric of NZ. someone that actually helped build community again and helped families to be families.Help parents who are battling to connect to their kids or themselves. Nzer's should always have somewhere to go when they need a hug and it shouldn't be in the form a legalized prostitute.
Unfortunately this party no longer exists as we are forced to choose the best from the worst because when they aren't pissing in corridors they are trying to hit each other in them.
When did charisma, personality, banter and being a NZ'der leave the beehive?
The Election is on soon. I have my voting papers and I'm set to cast something a little bit special this time around. To be fair I have not been able to follow this election that closely. What is about to happen here is that I am about to digress into a massive diatribe for which you all be left slightly dumber for having read, but that won't stop you now will it :-)
Anyone who fervently seeks out political knowledge will school me at the end of this post. But this is how I see it. It is a bit stink that politics has to get so far beyond the common man. It is so hard to figure out what the actual issue is to be able to form an opinion. But I do like exercising the ability to have an opinion.
New Zealand politics in recent years has just become a bit of a waste of time. Why do we need so many politicians? There is the side who won plus a couple of annoying drunken uncles tag alongs who piss and moan from the cheap seats. But, as soon as the music comes on at the wedding out they come and into their own with the caterpillar or electric slide. And suddenly the have the attention and votes of all in sundry.
Any system that suddenly gives the party that only 5% of the country supports gets more power than the team that came second with 40% is bit unrepresentative. How many crazy weird bills have the boys on left been able to pass in the last 9 years? In the words of scribe "not many if any". But it seems those sneaky Greens with the compulsory support of Aunty Helen get to a few dictate terms. That just doesn't seem right.
Why have 120 people in parliament? when even on the conscious votes, people support their own team. so effectively you only have a ya and nah. So why not just have two people in parliament that would be way cheaper. The party that wins gets to be called ya and the other party that the nah. Much easier for madam speaker to control as well. She has a a tough sandpit to control at the moment with all those Tonka Wielding teething memebers booing and hissing.
What is also baffling me at the moment is National looked like they were a shoe in and now Labour has made a come back. They were sure to be gone for stuffing up the housing market and blowing out our economy but just in the nick of time the whole world blows out too, so it doesn't seem like its their fault. Talk about a lucky break.
The only thing that seems to have swayed the vote was this student allowance re formulating. I benefited greatly from the current scheme. Turning 18 during my 7th form year I was able to collect $80 a week to help further my tertiary studies. I am sure you can read through the details on www.loophole.com. The last election Labour manged to squeeze by with their interest free student loans. Nice dangling of a juicy carrot there I must admit.
But yet again not actually offering policies to make a difference to the things that need the cash. I am sure people were more concerned about the NZ healthcare being there for them when there immune system had given up the ghost rather than getting a break on the student debt.
Common major debt owner - I realize now that taking out all my course related costs to go snowboarding trips and fueling my binge drinking was a bad idea. Can you hook a brother up? Yet again people not owning up to the consequences of their decisions and then getting rewarded.
In saying that do make fees cheaper for flipping doctors and teachers and other essential skills. Why create barriers in these areas? Rather than this new policy which just encourages everyone to get a degree in whatever. Surely giving just about everyone an allowance and free loan money will encourage more people to get a BA in English or Art History. Which is about as useful as granting voting rights to turnips.
Its also a bit weird that the whole thing is a not more issue by issue. Given the digital age we are living in. you could pretty much muster up a referendum every month on the key issues. and then actually have the whole county vote online. I know this cuts down on the tea ladies and cucumber and asparagus club sandwhiches, which I will be sad to see go. Then we can just cut out the middle men and people get their vote on. And you have can easily tell what percentage of each demograpcic, sociographic, holographic, racialographic has voted to ensure that its not getting completely swung out my people with more spare time or access to the web. easy peasy.
I should wrap this up because i will go on forever. For New Zealand to survive it needs to start making some cash. When we have more money coming in from our exports then all of a sudden we don't have to sit around holding hands hoping for the best but we can start to raise the expectations bar on our public services. Due to our blatant insignificance on the world scale we need to get our selves cranking in business, retain our best people because we can pay them properly and fill the govt coffers with taxes from new revenue streams. Rather than the current train of thought which is more along the lines of milking the citizens when the pay goes in, when they spend it and on every cent of the interest on the money they don't spend.
I guess this all makes me a little bit right wing. But really it comes down to the fact that I'm just a bit over Helen Clarke. and so for the moment I batting to get her constantly snarky arse out. but I don't want to be left on everything for the next four years. Besides, If she gets in for another term then she will make it to ten years at the helm of New Zealand which means she will probably make a commemorative CD. and more likely than not TV One will play a 5 minute visual tribute to Helen Clarke. Which as you can imagine will be 5 minutes of her 'smiling' to the backing of I see Red by the Split Endz.
Isn't free speech great. probably should only be granted to those with an understanding of what is going on but anyhow. If I was Chinese writing this about my own prez I would actually be killed tomorrow or put though a 're education program'. So I count myself lucky.
Personally I would love to vote for someone that was going to help preserve the nearly not existent moral fabric of NZ. someone that actually helped build community again and helped families to be families.Help parents who are battling to connect to their kids or themselves. Nzer's should always have somewhere to go when they need a hug and it shouldn't be in the form a legalized prostitute.
Unfortunately this party no longer exists as we are forced to choose the best from the worst because when they aren't pissing in corridors they are trying to hit each other in them.
When did charisma, personality, banter and being a NZ'der leave the beehive?
Friday, October 17, 2008
My Rugby team, I love them. I love them not
Blimmin Wellington Lions. For some reason I am passionate supporter of Wellington in every sport. Most people stopped caring about the provincial rugby a long time ago. But for me it is still a good time. After all I was standing on the terraces when the Lions won the NPC final in Christchurch in 2000. which will go down as one of my most treasured live sports moments. So how do you go from this to losing about 5 finals in the last 7 years. If Disney were to write a script about Wellington Rugby they would be hard pressed to find a positive angle. My only thoughts are its a revenge of the nerds type saga where they find some ingenious ways to battle our mental instability when playing another good team. The aerodynamic Javelin for example.
I am disappointed but after having watched them lose so many finals i sort have stopped carrying and completely lowered my expectations for any Wellington team, which is a terrible place to be.
Anyhow I digress, most of you don't care and and I am soon to join you. Because the lions and hurricanes have been the biggest teases know to man.
It would be far better if they could just be mediocre like the Phoenix so at least when they get a point out of a fixture I am happy.
Rather than playing well all they way through the season and them limping through the playoffs. One might be tempted to say I am being a bit hard on them, but get stuffed. I have been through enough upsets and thrashings to just say, stuff you.
But next season they will play well again and give me more false hope. Now that I think about it, since I started supporting Rugby as a sport at the advent of the Super 12 it really hasn't given me much joy at all. I have followed the Hurricanes (bar semi final win of Warratahs 2006) be on and off as have the Lions (bar victory in 200) and the flipping All Blacks (bar finally getting the bledisloe back - whatever year that was) all blow out when I needed them.
So that is 3 Satisfying 80 minutes in 11 years. Rugby just isn't working out. It's a pity Hockey is for fags and is so hard to follow on TV. Otherwise id be in there.
Its a bit of horse and cart with these minority sports. they need money to get better to compete at a watchable level. But to get money they have to be good. It's shame so much is poured into Rugby by the corporates at the expense of other sports.
Until then hockey needs more blood and biffo and Mandy Smith to come out of Retirement. Otherwise it is destined to be insignificant.
I need a hug.
I am disappointed but after having watched them lose so many finals i sort have stopped carrying and completely lowered my expectations for any Wellington team, which is a terrible place to be.
Anyhow I digress, most of you don't care and and I am soon to join you. Because the lions and hurricanes have been the biggest teases know to man.
It would be far better if they could just be mediocre like the Phoenix so at least when they get a point out of a fixture I am happy.
Rather than playing well all they way through the season and them limping through the playoffs. One might be tempted to say I am being a bit hard on them, but get stuffed. I have been through enough upsets and thrashings to just say, stuff you.
But next season they will play well again and give me more false hope. Now that I think about it, since I started supporting Rugby as a sport at the advent of the Super 12 it really hasn't given me much joy at all. I have followed the Hurricanes (bar semi final win of Warratahs 2006) be on and off as have the Lions (bar victory in 200) and the flipping All Blacks (bar finally getting the bledisloe back - whatever year that was) all blow out when I needed them.
So that is 3 Satisfying 80 minutes in 11 years. Rugby just isn't working out. It's a pity Hockey is for fags and is so hard to follow on TV. Otherwise id be in there.
Its a bit of horse and cart with these minority sports. they need money to get better to compete at a watchable level. But to get money they have to be good. It's shame so much is poured into Rugby by the corporates at the expense of other sports.
Until then hockey needs more blood and biffo and Mandy Smith to come out of Retirement. Otherwise it is destined to be insignificant.
I need a hug.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Jog like you mean it
What happened to me I hear you ask. Well a few main things have occurred to nip blog writing in the butt. Work - I got real busy. secondly I got engaged to the lovely Hannah and am now in wedding planning mode. thirdly I discovered settlers of Catan online.
I had few comments that people were keen for me to get a blog up. To be honest being a fairly sensitive bloke I become a bit demoralized in camp Had at the lack of comments and apparent interest but the few verbal 'come on sons' have brought me back to the keyboard again.
I have started getting my run on again. inspired by Nick Willis I thought maybe I should take the limelight of him a bit at the next Olympics by running in an event myself. So I thought that London is not too far away and given my present physical condition I better start making in roads.
Running in Shanghai is just average. I don't think I have passed so many people in all my runs in NZ put together than I do each weekday morning as I weave through the streets. Its just ridiculous. its a long distance agility run where you take to the Chinese like markers on an Annalise Coberger downhill slalom. Everyone glares at you hard out as you run past. Its this hard out intrigued glare, like they are watching a Martian trying to catch up to a school bus. its a good thing im not self conscious. For me its good training as I get use to running in front of the big crowds that will be there in London.
On my run this morning I came back via the trusty Anus and intestine Hospital. I heard a mega phone blaring as I ran past. I think they were announcing that they were doing a two for one special this week. So no excuses now. It also occurred to me that I will never eat from any mystery meat hot pot restaurants in a square mile of that place. Weirdly the Anus and Intestine Hospital has pictures on the font showing people in Surgery. receiving treatment from the trusty surgeon. I checked the picture and from the direction the persons feet was facing I was able to ascertain that this was just intestine surgery. Either that or the patient had a particularly bad case of the date in which case it would explain the predominant look of all the specialists who are grasping tools awkwardly in hand looking at one another like - what the heck is that?
I had few comments that people were keen for me to get a blog up. To be honest being a fairly sensitive bloke I become a bit demoralized in camp Had at the lack of comments and apparent interest but the few verbal 'come on sons' have brought me back to the keyboard again.
I have started getting my run on again. inspired by Nick Willis I thought maybe I should take the limelight of him a bit at the next Olympics by running in an event myself. So I thought that London is not too far away and given my present physical condition I better start making in roads.
Running in Shanghai is just average. I don't think I have passed so many people in all my runs in NZ put together than I do each weekday morning as I weave through the streets. Its just ridiculous. its a long distance agility run where you take to the Chinese like markers on an Annalise Coberger downhill slalom. Everyone glares at you hard out as you run past. Its this hard out intrigued glare, like they are watching a Martian trying to catch up to a school bus. its a good thing im not self conscious. For me its good training as I get use to running in front of the big crowds that will be there in London.
On my run this morning I came back via the trusty Anus and intestine Hospital. I heard a mega phone blaring as I ran past. I think they were announcing that they were doing a two for one special this week. So no excuses now. It also occurred to me that I will never eat from any mystery meat hot pot restaurants in a square mile of that place. Weirdly the Anus and Intestine Hospital has pictures on the font showing people in Surgery. receiving treatment from the trusty surgeon. I checked the picture and from the direction the persons feet was facing I was able to ascertain that this was just intestine surgery. Either that or the patient had a particularly bad case of the date in which case it would explain the predominant look of all the specialists who are grasping tools awkwardly in hand looking at one another like - what the heck is that?
Thursday, September 18, 2008
The squat - 1.3 billion Chinese can't be wrong
Dear readers,
I am alive. I know there was grave concern to my safety after some of the things I had said to the establishment in recent blogs. However, as it turns out I am indeed just experiencing a spot of super business at work. But don't you worry, I am sure that will pass and I can get back to my fulltime blogging.
In most westerns lands people are familiar with the three r's. reading and writing and arithmetic. or my UFO spotting social studies teachers, The 5 p's pride in presentation produces perfection in performance. Most of you, and in particular the blokes, will be familiar the building blocks for any successful social outing the 3's. a S**t, shower and a shave. Might I add this is to be done in no particular order just not all at the same time. just in case you forget which hand the razor was in.
Well as it turns out the Chinese also have the 3's which applies to the same setting.
That is a squat, smoke and spit. Now unlike the western 3's, these ones can all be done at the same time, which takes multi-tasking to a whole new level. and whilst general standards of decencies require my 3's to take place in the bathroom. A Chinaman won't take a second thought as prioritizing convenience over social acceptance. And I use the term social acceptance here lightly because as far as community hygiene goes that bar isn't raised particularly high.
Case in point on my recent holiday to Lushan we were eating at a table outside when a family emerged from the restaurant. there little two year old stood next to the table and on prompting just started to bust out a leek right next to us. We really didn't know what to do. As a little tyke you really are given free license here I would say that toddler 2's out do the doggie doo's by about 3-1 out in the street. It's not a pleasant state of affairs. so please remember to take your shoes off at the door, when you come visit.
Seems a shame to stop talking about the bathroom, The other day up in Beijing I came across a public toilet, which I was contemplating using. I went in. But what do i find , four squat toilets in a row. And then it dawned upon me there were no walls. it was just a tiled room with a whole lot of sink holes in the floor. I just couldn't help but marvel at what a tremendous bonding experience this must provide for the men of the community. I then thought about the domino effect if the guy on the end lost his balance.
I for one respect the squat, albeit at arms length. When you think about it far more people in this world squat than not. If there was every a battle of the Dalton the sitters would need to invent some pretty pioneering tactics not to find them selves dangerously exposed.
On another note I don't know quite what a ; is for. I certainly think using it gives an certain ire of higher education. Mr qwerty obviously thinks its of more use than the : because you need to push shift to gain access to that. But in my writing history I think I have only used it once and that was entirely be accident because I forgot to push shift.
I am alive. I know there was grave concern to my safety after some of the things I had said to the establishment in recent blogs. However, as it turns out I am indeed just experiencing a spot of super business at work. But don't you worry, I am sure that will pass and I can get back to my fulltime blogging.
In most westerns lands people are familiar with the three r's. reading and writing and arithmetic. or my UFO spotting social studies teachers, The 5 p's pride in presentation produces perfection in performance. Most of you, and in particular the blokes, will be familiar the building blocks for any successful social outing the 3's. a S**t, shower and a shave. Might I add this is to be done in no particular order just not all at the same time. just in case you forget which hand the razor was in.
Well as it turns out the Chinese also have the 3's which applies to the same setting.
That is a squat, smoke and spit. Now unlike the western 3's, these ones can all be done at the same time, which takes multi-tasking to a whole new level. and whilst general standards of decencies require my 3's to take place in the bathroom. A Chinaman won't take a second thought as prioritizing convenience over social acceptance. And I use the term social acceptance here lightly because as far as community hygiene goes that bar isn't raised particularly high.
Case in point on my recent holiday to Lushan we were eating at a table outside when a family emerged from the restaurant. there little two year old stood next to the table and on prompting just started to bust out a leek right next to us. We really didn't know what to do. As a little tyke you really are given free license here I would say that toddler 2's out do the doggie doo's by about 3-1 out in the street. It's not a pleasant state of affairs. so please remember to take your shoes off at the door, when you come visit.
Seems a shame to stop talking about the bathroom, The other day up in Beijing I came across a public toilet, which I was contemplating using. I went in. But what do i find , four squat toilets in a row. And then it dawned upon me there were no walls. it was just a tiled room with a whole lot of sink holes in the floor. I just couldn't help but marvel at what a tremendous bonding experience this must provide for the men of the community. I then thought about the domino effect if the guy on the end lost his balance.
I for one respect the squat, albeit at arms length. When you think about it far more people in this world squat than not. If there was every a battle of the Dalton the sitters would need to invent some pretty pioneering tactics not to find them selves dangerously exposed.
On another note I don't know quite what a ; is for. I certainly think using it gives an certain ire of higher education. Mr qwerty obviously thinks its of more use than the : because you need to push shift to gain access to that. But in my writing history I think I have only used it once and that was entirely be accident because I forgot to push shift.
Friday, August 29, 2008
The real Olympics
Well no doubt you have all been watching the events unfold up in Beijing over the past few weeks. I have had the privilege as one of a select few that witnessed these games first hand.
Well I guess I should start where the Olympics did on the 8th of the 8th. I missed a fair chunk of the opening ceremony but was delighted to tune in to here John Macbeth and Keith Quinn running proceeding on the illegal Pilipino sports feed I was watching. No one really knew what the heck what was going but some of it looked pretty cool. Especially the bit with all the guys in the Gollum style jump suits going for it like glow in the dark spiders in mating season.
Good to see all the countries delegates sitting together in one big happy terrorists nirvana family.
I didn’t see Aunty Helen get shown on the telly during the crowd shot of the nations delegates. Perhaps the Chinese finally put their censorship to good use for once and spared the billions of viewers a close up of Helen giving us a big smile.
During the lighting of the torch the Chinese finally gave us what we all really wanted to see. And that’s the nation crossing, Everest climbing, Olympic torch Giving up the ghost with just one lap of the stadium to go.
Having not been to an Olympics before it’s a bit hard for me to say whether this was a particularly good one. But I would say that the Chinese people really got behind it. Great call from BOCOG to keep the prices low so people could afford to go. So for every event the public seats were full. The empty ones you see on TV are because the broadcasters and sponsors were to lazy to fill their seats.
It all added to entertainment that at most events no one watching really knew what was going on. Bless 'em they were just excited to be at the Olympics.
They were especially excited when it was time to do the Govt prescribed chant. Zhongguo jiayou (Go China!) got every man and his uneaten dog very excited about life. I never heard a Chinese spectator yell anything else during the entire games. although they were booing a fair bit (very un Olympic like) When Yao Ming’s China was getting their beans from Greece in their last pool game.
I watched Uasin collect his gold for the 100m. The race where Usain started celebrating so early they hadn't even cut his umbilical cord. I then saw him again a few days later run his semi for the 200m. He was quick looking. Boy did he dominate. I think my brother’s facebook status summed it up nicely. Lincoln reckons Usain Bolt could catch the gingerbread man.
I promise to write more now I am back on deck and not holidaying. Boy was Beijing exhausting. ‘Hey Bob looks like rain’ this weekend so a good chance to do some admin and hopefully tell some more tales from Beijing.
In the meantime check out my Facebook album for photos of the big event.
It was a shame I could not sen more content via the web from Beijing. As you can see from the photo below even make a phone call was difficult.
Well I guess I should start where the Olympics did on the 8th of the 8th. I missed a fair chunk of the opening ceremony but was delighted to tune in to here John Macbeth and Keith Quinn running proceeding on the illegal Pilipino sports feed I was watching. No one really knew what the heck what was going but some of it looked pretty cool. Especially the bit with all the guys in the Gollum style jump suits going for it like glow in the dark spiders in mating season.
Good to see all the countries delegates sitting together in one big happy terrorists nirvana family.
I didn’t see Aunty Helen get shown on the telly during the crowd shot of the nations delegates. Perhaps the Chinese finally put their censorship to good use for once and spared the billions of viewers a close up of Helen giving us a big smile.
During the lighting of the torch the Chinese finally gave us what we all really wanted to see. And that’s the nation crossing, Everest climbing, Olympic torch Giving up the ghost with just one lap of the stadium to go.
Having not been to an Olympics before it’s a bit hard for me to say whether this was a particularly good one. But I would say that the Chinese people really got behind it. Great call from BOCOG to keep the prices low so people could afford to go. So for every event the public seats were full. The empty ones you see on TV are because the broadcasters and sponsors were to lazy to fill their seats.
It all added to entertainment that at most events no one watching really knew what was going on. Bless 'em they were just excited to be at the Olympics.
They were especially excited when it was time to do the Govt prescribed chant. Zhongguo jiayou (Go China!) got every man and his uneaten dog very excited about life. I never heard a Chinese spectator yell anything else during the entire games. although they were booing a fair bit (very un Olympic like) When Yao Ming’s China was getting their beans from Greece in their last pool game.
I watched Uasin collect his gold for the 100m. The race where Usain started celebrating so early they hadn't even cut his umbilical cord. I then saw him again a few days later run his semi for the 200m. He was quick looking. Boy did he dominate. I think my brother’s facebook status summed it up nicely. Lincoln reckons Usain Bolt could catch the gingerbread man.
I promise to write more now I am back on deck and not holidaying. Boy was Beijing exhausting. ‘Hey Bob looks like rain’ this weekend so a good chance to do some admin and hopefully tell some more tales from Beijing.
In the meantime check out my Facebook album for photos of the big event.
It was a shame I could not sen more content via the web from Beijing. As you can see from the photo below even make a phone call was difficult.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Olympics
Well sorry for my lack of blog love. Beijing was not a hackers paradise. The internet their for non Olympic related use was terribly limited. so did not get much away. I will try and recount the emotion and Chinese Palaver of the past few weeks soon. In the meantime.
Awesome that ones of its special features is to work properly
These sounded to good to pass up when they came around.
Awesome that ones of its special features is to work properly
These sounded to good to pass up when they came around.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Olympic Football at Shanghai Stadium
Australia v Serbia.
Australia were being dominated like a convict in a prison cell for most of this game. In true flukey Aussie style, completely against the run of play, they get a break away and score. Serbia would have been distraught. Luckily for them one of there 25 opportunities was finally taken and they leveled. Their delivery into the box was average all night and it cost them clear a victory.
Argentina v Ivory Coast
Argentina game was in a completely different class. lots of attacking football and excitement for the adoring fans. The Chinese had a real passion for the Argentina's so it was great to see them getting into this game.
A fantastic sight to see 80,000 people giving the ref Chinese stick for letting a third ivory coaster get hacked down in the box to no avail.
Great game which Argentina probably deserved to win. but only just. these teams will finish top of the group. it was way better football then the oz game.
Highlight for me was the screen in the ground. Still think its dumb that you can't watch replays at the ground. But anyway. they had other great uses for it. my favorite was the instruction in an excitable font. "lets do the Mexican wave" This is what happens when your country does too much KTV and karaoke. you learn to take you your instructions for entertainment from subtitles.
Event was great super excited about going to Beijing on Monday. Bring it on.
Why couldn't the chicken cross the road
For those of you who have broken bread with me you have come across my thoughts on chicken. I have never been a fan of eating chicken off the bone. This is mainly because growing up we used to have a chicken farm. Which as it turns out is the same as saying I owned a brothel to the Chinese. Anyhow. I have never taken to eating chicken and for that matter fish with bones is somewhat of a battle. I have only recently discovered the beauty of ribs as they had previously been off my menu. The Chinese really don’t get this at all. I try to explain it as best I can but I always get a very strange look. Although to be honest I get the same response in New Zealand.
Giving the Chinese tend to not be the most refined of eaters. No one blinks twice at regurgitating food back onto the plate. Something I am still getting to terms with.
No matter where I sit on the table the Chicken feet. are always placed right in front of me. I go green at the sight. From what I have seen The thing about eating chicken feet is that hardly any of it is actually eaten. So imagine the scenario where you are taking out a date for the very first time. You politely pull out her chair for her as she sits down. Yo then make great conversations and are both chuckling away . It’s going great. Then out comes the severed chicken feet and she is devouring it and spitting out bones and nails for the next 5 minutes whilst you talk about her favorite movies. Mmm… nothing makes one look more at there best than when they are regurgitating poultry matter back on to their plate. Hard to imagine going back for seconds on that kind of date.
For this reason you should never ask a Chinese person if something tastes good. If tempted you should keep in mind their reference points. The same person who is telling you this dish is delicious and is a must try. Also devours ducks tongues and chickens feet, bullfrog on toast, like cream on a dough nut. I tip my hat to the Chinese, they are true advocates of the fear factor spirit.
Giving the Chinese tend to not be the most refined of eaters. No one blinks twice at regurgitating food back onto the plate. Something I am still getting to terms with.
No matter where I sit on the table the Chicken feet. are always placed right in front of me. I go green at the sight. From what I have seen The thing about eating chicken feet is that hardly any of it is actually eaten. So imagine the scenario where you are taking out a date for the very first time. You politely pull out her chair for her as she sits down. Yo then make great conversations and are both chuckling away . It’s going great. Then out comes the severed chicken feet and she is devouring it and spitting out bones and nails for the next 5 minutes whilst you talk about her favorite movies. Mmm… nothing makes one look more at there best than when they are regurgitating poultry matter back on to their plate. Hard to imagine going back for seconds on that kind of date.
For this reason you should never ask a Chinese person if something tastes good. If tempted you should keep in mind their reference points. The same person who is telling you this dish is delicious and is a must try. Also devours ducks tongues and chickens feet, bullfrog on toast, like cream on a dough nut. I tip my hat to the Chinese, they are true advocates of the fear factor spirit.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Beijing 2008
Yes I'll be there.
Good times to be had. I'll let you know my itinerary so you can look for me on the telly. I am just getting my tailored made supporters outfit made at the moment. its going to be awesome. Unfortunately the super hotness has limited my options but its all good.
If you want to follow me more closely during the games then my updates will be far more frequent via SPARC's Eyes on Beijing site. I should be twittering info up there at least 3 times a day so plenty of little info bites of my experience.
I will have to be slightly more discerning with my word choice. a transition I have never been able to make successfully.
Click here to keep in the loop.
http://beijing.sparc.org.nz/in-beijing/games-correspondents/hadleigh-churchill
Cheers,
Had
Good times to be had. I'll let you know my itinerary so you can look for me on the telly. I am just getting my tailored made supporters outfit made at the moment. its going to be awesome. Unfortunately the super hotness has limited my options but its all good.
If you want to follow me more closely during the games then my updates will be far more frequent via SPARC's Eyes on Beijing site. I should be twittering info up there at least 3 times a day so plenty of little info bites of my experience.
I will have to be slightly more discerning with my word choice. a transition I have never been able to make successfully.
Click here to keep in the loop.
http://beijing.sparc.org.nz/in-beijing/games-correspondents/hadleigh-churchill
Cheers,
Had
Friday, August 1, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
There is a new name in womens fashion.
There are way too many options here, none of which are publishable. got your own? add your caption/ advertising slogan in the comments section.
I don't just want plain vanilla electricity.
Hook a brother up with the good stuff! oh yea, That's what I'm talking about.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Taxi 201
Shanghai Taxi drivers have typically been the object of my affection for their ability to not make me late and keep me in good supply of adrenalin. They are now also supplying me with a bountiful amount of motivation to learn Chinese.
Beyond ensuring I get to where I want to go, the key aim now, is improving efficiency of this transaction.
The main reason for minimizing the verbalizing, is that the snack of choice for the average Taxi driver is garlic. When taking a short break a Shangahi taxi driver will take a whiz and then bury a clove or ten of Garlic. If by the time you get in the cab he has been waiting with the windows wound up for 5 minutes then you take your life into your own hands. If you open a door to a whiff its definitely grounds for sitting this one out and waiting for the next cab.
The less questions they get to ask the less their breath of mass destruction is unleashed.
The other imperative thing is supplying the driver with the correct change. Then you can drop the money in his hand. I say this because if you give him too much money he then has to give you change. Which means he has to place it in your hand. No big deal you think. Except now you are almost definitely going to be touched by the taxi driver . This is a big problem for you. The fingernails of most taxi drivers are about 3 times longer than that of the average housewife. I mean long protruding nails about 2 inches past the top of the finger. On several occasions I have let out quite and audible gasp when touched by one.
I now take a second look before accepting change or a receipt. I have left drivers hanging a few times. He looks at me whilst I glare back with that stare you usually reserve for someone who has just picked their nose prior to a handshake.
Beyond ensuring I get to where I want to go, the key aim now, is improving efficiency of this transaction.
The main reason for minimizing the verbalizing, is that the snack of choice for the average Taxi driver is garlic. When taking a short break a Shangahi taxi driver will take a whiz and then bury a clove or ten of Garlic. If by the time you get in the cab he has been waiting with the windows wound up for 5 minutes then you take your life into your own hands. If you open a door to a whiff its definitely grounds for sitting this one out and waiting for the next cab.
The less questions they get to ask the less their breath of mass destruction is unleashed.
The other imperative thing is supplying the driver with the correct change. Then you can drop the money in his hand. I say this because if you give him too much money he then has to give you change. Which means he has to place it in your hand. No big deal you think. Except now you are almost definitely going to be touched by the taxi driver . This is a big problem for you. The fingernails of most taxi drivers are about 3 times longer than that of the average housewife. I mean long protruding nails about 2 inches past the top of the finger. On several occasions I have let out quite and audible gasp when touched by one.
I now take a second look before accepting change or a receipt. I have left drivers hanging a few times. He looks at me whilst I glare back with that stare you usually reserve for someone who has just picked their nose prior to a handshake.
Monday, July 28, 2008
A bit of everything
Alright you have had to sit through a few random diatribe blogs lately. You will be pleased to know that in the past week I have been reminded of a few funny things about the Chinese. I know I am a man often short of finding the right words for a situation. But not wanting to leave you a few adjectives short of an imagination orgy I will give it a go.
Now I may have in the past accidentally made some local Chinese out to be a bit uncouth. Obviously China is getting a bit sensitive with the Olympics coming up. Freedom of information truth and the like are being point to the test. Now for the sake of not having my work visa revoked I would like to make a disclaimer.
The situations I reference in my blog are eye witness accounts. Whilst these are isolated incidents they are by no know means unfair stereotypes even though they are representative of the entire population. Okay so that is not a disclaimer as such, in fact at all. Perhaps if you happen to stumble across something in Shanghaihad that could be interpreted either way and one is offensive. Then please just interpret it the other way. There, that should keep me employed and out of jail.
Of all the sensory overloads I go through at a local Chinese restaurant there is one that sticks out the most. It happens right at the end of the meal. When it comes to using a toothpick the Chinese are more polite than the Queen. Their toothpick etiquette is nothing short of outstanding. Whilst one hand is foraging through the porcelains, looking for the other half of the pigeon, the other is delicately placed over the mouth so no one has to see what is going on. This dainty mannerism is juxtaposed about 60 seconds later when he steps outside and will be hocking up roughage on the pavement and generally carrying on like a caveman.
Now this next segment might not mean much to you women out there. So ladies welcome to a deep insight into the world of man.
There comes a time in every mans life when he finds himself observing the world around him. As he takes in the situation he then looks down and asks himself. Exactly how long has my hand been on my nuts. This can be a particularly scary realization depending on the situation. A client dinner you have to hope no one noticed where you had been for the last two minutes of conversation. I would just like to clarify that when this is going on one is just thinking about the weather or what he is going to have for lunch tomorrow.
This pose should no longer be associated with it's historical pioneer - the dole bludging, hermit, stick shifter, slumped on the couch watching telly. Al Bundy made it famous but I think it has evolved. I think it is the symbol of the modern thinking man.
If the artist behind 'the thinker' was sculpting today he would be telling it as it was in this day and age. Philosophy and mans internal struggles would be best depicted by a face wrought with contemplation , one hand on the knee the other not holding the chin but in a re-adjustmentesque southern cupping position. The world would then know that when this pose is in session this vacant gaze was the sign of a man at work.
Stay tuned this week for my next installment of taxi 101.
Now I may have in the past accidentally made some local Chinese out to be a bit uncouth. Obviously China is getting a bit sensitive with the Olympics coming up. Freedom of information truth and the like are being point to the test. Now for the sake of not having my work visa revoked I would like to make a disclaimer.
The situations I reference in my blog are eye witness accounts. Whilst these are isolated incidents they are by no know means unfair stereotypes even though they are representative of the entire population. Okay so that is not a disclaimer as such, in fact at all. Perhaps if you happen to stumble across something in Shanghaihad that could be interpreted either way and one is offensive. Then please just interpret it the other way. There, that should keep me employed and out of jail.
Of all the sensory overloads I go through at a local Chinese restaurant there is one that sticks out the most. It happens right at the end of the meal. When it comes to using a toothpick the Chinese are more polite than the Queen. Their toothpick etiquette is nothing short of outstanding. Whilst one hand is foraging through the porcelains, looking for the other half of the pigeon, the other is delicately placed over the mouth so no one has to see what is going on. This dainty mannerism is juxtaposed about 60 seconds later when he steps outside and will be hocking up roughage on the pavement and generally carrying on like a caveman.
Now this next segment might not mean much to you women out there. So ladies welcome to a deep insight into the world of man.
There comes a time in every mans life when he finds himself observing the world around him. As he takes in the situation he then looks down and asks himself. Exactly how long has my hand been on my nuts. This can be a particularly scary realization depending on the situation. A client dinner you have to hope no one noticed where you had been for the last two minutes of conversation. I would just like to clarify that when this is going on one is just thinking about the weather or what he is going to have for lunch tomorrow.
This pose should no longer be associated with it's historical pioneer - the dole bludging, hermit, stick shifter, slumped on the couch watching telly. Al Bundy made it famous but I think it has evolved. I think it is the symbol of the modern thinking man.
If the artist behind 'the thinker' was sculpting today he would be telling it as it was in this day and age. Philosophy and mans internal struggles would be best depicted by a face wrought with contemplation , one hand on the knee the other not holding the chin but in a re-adjustmentesque southern cupping position. The world would then know that when this pose is in session this vacant gaze was the sign of a man at work.
Stay tuned this week for my next installment of taxi 101.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
48 hours in Beijing
I has a shoot this weekend past in Beijing. I was able to have my first domestic traveling experience. Considering the poor regard in which this is held I was pretty impressed. Sometimes having your expectations severely lowered is a fantastic way to enjoy the exceptionally unexpected. I do like surprises.
Things were fairly efficient and standard the only weird bit being the internal immigration. The line for the flight was one of the few times in aviation I have seen Asians master the single file line concept. Once on board the pilot was on the airwaves. I think it was the only time I have felt reassured and happy to hear a French accent.
Beijing. Well there is no doubt about it the city is super excited about putting on the Olympics. There are banners everywhere and signs signaling the arrival of the games.
On arrival in Beijing the weather was sensational. The sky was as picturesque blue as any sky you’ll ever see. I was truly amazed. They have gone hard nuts making the city beautiful. There is so much green I thought I was in Canada all the way to the city. Wherever there is anything to distract from this they have glossed over it. All the slums and building site have large walls erected in front of them with hoardings advertising the games. I was amazed at how little of Beijing appeared to be poor. Although, out of site out of mind isn't exactly a long term solution now is it.
Beijing is row upon road of gridded streets that stretches on as far as the eye can see. It is all perfectly square block after block/ It is fair to say the Beijing cityscape has about as much vibrancy and personality as a John Mitchell press conference. So you have to know where you are going to find pockets of Chinese culture.
There is no shortage of local entrepreneurs welcoming the wealthy lao wai with open arms. As a visitor you should be suspicious of absolutely anyone rendering their service. They have no qualms about happily skimming an extra few bucks off a foreigner.
The bad time here is the taxi’s. I only took 3 while I was here and I was super not impressed. If you are not traveling far enough then there is a reluctance to take you anywhere. Driving in Beijing was also disappointingly civilized. I hardly felt like I was going to be injured once. Although the production house driver did travel for about 1km in the shoulder of the oncoming highway traffic. Slightly nerve raking and potential death hardly out weighed the 30 seconds of drive time shaved by avoiding the u-turn.
After the shoot on Sunday I was glad to be able to take a trip out to the Olympic venues. It was a pretty cool experience to see the Birds next and Watercube up close. I am now even more super psyched about getting to the Olympics in a few weeks.
The environment has certainly been of great Pre-Olympic concern and after Saturdays scorcher it was easy to think the war had be won. However, Sunday it was back to haze and when I awoke Monday morning the pollution visibility resembled the Super14 final of 2006. The only difference is I am still not bitter with the pollution in Beijing. It will be a fantastic feat of technology if this anti-aircraft cannon weather control system keeps the skies blue. All the purists and nostalgics can get stuffed if they complain about not seeing the real Beijing. It needs as much artificial gloss and blue skies as it can get.
Things were fairly efficient and standard the only weird bit being the internal immigration. The line for the flight was one of the few times in aviation I have seen Asians master the single file line concept. Once on board the pilot was on the airwaves. I think it was the only time I have felt reassured and happy to hear a French accent.
Beijing. Well there is no doubt about it the city is super excited about putting on the Olympics. There are banners everywhere and signs signaling the arrival of the games.
On arrival in Beijing the weather was sensational. The sky was as picturesque blue as any sky you’ll ever see. I was truly amazed. They have gone hard nuts making the city beautiful. There is so much green I thought I was in Canada all the way to the city. Wherever there is anything to distract from this they have glossed over it. All the slums and building site have large walls erected in front of them with hoardings advertising the games. I was amazed at how little of Beijing appeared to be poor. Although, out of site out of mind isn't exactly a long term solution now is it.
Beijing is row upon road of gridded streets that stretches on as far as the eye can see. It is all perfectly square block after block/ It is fair to say the Beijing cityscape has about as much vibrancy and personality as a John Mitchell press conference. So you have to know where you are going to find pockets of Chinese culture.
There is no shortage of local entrepreneurs welcoming the wealthy lao wai with open arms. As a visitor you should be suspicious of absolutely anyone rendering their service. They have no qualms about happily skimming an extra few bucks off a foreigner.
The bad time here is the taxi’s. I only took 3 while I was here and I was super not impressed. If you are not traveling far enough then there is a reluctance to take you anywhere. Driving in Beijing was also disappointingly civilized. I hardly felt like I was going to be injured once. Although the production house driver did travel for about 1km in the shoulder of the oncoming highway traffic. Slightly nerve raking and potential death hardly out weighed the 30 seconds of drive time shaved by avoiding the u-turn.
After the shoot on Sunday I was glad to be able to take a trip out to the Olympic venues. It was a pretty cool experience to see the Birds next and Watercube up close. I am now even more super psyched about getting to the Olympics in a few weeks.
The environment has certainly been of great Pre-Olympic concern and after Saturdays scorcher it was easy to think the war had be won. However, Sunday it was back to haze and when I awoke Monday morning the pollution visibility resembled the Super14 final of 2006. The only difference is I am still not bitter with the pollution in Beijing. It will be a fantastic feat of technology if this anti-aircraft cannon weather control system keeps the skies blue. All the purists and nostalgics can get stuffed if they complain about not seeing the real Beijing. It needs as much artificial gloss and blue skies as it can get.
Monday, July 21, 2008
back to walking the beat
I write today;s blog with a heavy heart. You may recall the excited jubilation with which I acquired my bicycle some 7 weeks ago. We had shared some great memories together. As I peddled the dangerous streets of Shanghai my trusty bicycle nurtured me at every turn and intersection.
On Friday as I arrived at the bike rack I was curious as to my bike wasn’t where I had left it. By that I mean it was gone. Someone had fleeced my bike. I was gutted as. I had brought over a heavy duty lock from New Zealand in a hope to evade the merchants of thieves. I investigated the scene of the crime. Much to my despair there was no a sign of a struggle. Which makes me think he was attacked from behind while perhaps drowsy in the balmy afternoon sun. It’s hard to think about his last moments of freedom. He probably lay there dozing in and out of a summer afternoon daydream. He would have been reflecting back on the trips we had together before. He would have been dreaming and expectantly waiting for the next time I would return and take him on another adventure. his mind then would have wandered off into a hazy pedaled fantasy involving him and that bicycle from ET.
I studied the hax-saw markings on the faded paint of the bike stand. I can imagine the rattling in his spokes as he realized what would happen once they had broken through the lock .
It pains me to think that now someone else is taking him to unknown places against his will. Somewhere out there he is crying himself to sleep in a garden shed or a bike stand. Longing to be part of my adventures just one last time.
There is some thing particularly violating about having your bike stolen. This is the third time in four years it has happened to me. a little part of me dies in side each time. In the words of reverend Brian Tamaki ‘ enough is enough’. Surely more could be done to stop the ease at which bikes are fleeced. Shanghai probably has about 3 million bicycles and they pretty much all look the same too. so my chance of spotting it a gain are very slim.
I can only hope that in this case Robin Hood got me and some old codger is towing a 200 kg trailer full of watermelon across the suburbs.
As I look back and think about what I could have done differently. I think the issue was it was too new. My next bike will thrown down a few flights of stairs and then have all its paint sripped off with a flamethrower. That ought to do it
On Friday as I arrived at the bike rack I was curious as to my bike wasn’t where I had left it. By that I mean it was gone. Someone had fleeced my bike. I was gutted as. I had brought over a heavy duty lock from New Zealand in a hope to evade the merchants of thieves. I investigated the scene of the crime. Much to my despair there was no a sign of a struggle. Which makes me think he was attacked from behind while perhaps drowsy in the balmy afternoon sun. It’s hard to think about his last moments of freedom. He probably lay there dozing in and out of a summer afternoon daydream. He would have been reflecting back on the trips we had together before. He would have been dreaming and expectantly waiting for the next time I would return and take him on another adventure. his mind then would have wandered off into a hazy pedaled fantasy involving him and that bicycle from ET.
I studied the hax-saw markings on the faded paint of the bike stand. I can imagine the rattling in his spokes as he realized what would happen once they had broken through the lock .
It pains me to think that now someone else is taking him to unknown places against his will. Somewhere out there he is crying himself to sleep in a garden shed or a bike stand. Longing to be part of my adventures just one last time.
There is some thing particularly violating about having your bike stolen. This is the third time in four years it has happened to me. a little part of me dies in side each time. In the words of reverend Brian Tamaki ‘ enough is enough’. Surely more could be done to stop the ease at which bikes are fleeced. Shanghai probably has about 3 million bicycles and they pretty much all look the same too. so my chance of spotting it a gain are very slim.
I can only hope that in this case Robin Hood got me and some old codger is towing a 200 kg trailer full of watermelon across the suburbs.
As I look back and think about what I could have done differently. I think the issue was it was too new. My next bike will thrown down a few flights of stairs and then have all its paint sripped off with a flamethrower. That ought to do it
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Wind down the window
So finally the rainy season seems to have gone away. The rain was starting to get to me. The rainy season definitely had a bad attitude. I mean sure, if you are going to rain, break into a light drizzle and the odd heavier drop. But you can’t just go from balmy 27 degrees clear grey skies to torrential rain in under 2 minutes. There is just no warning and suddenly the city is in chaos. There is no cover anywhere and suddenly an unoccupied taxi becomes metropolitan sperm whale vomit. So farewell rainfall.
So now there is no rain, someone just turned the fan heater up to number 5. It is crazy hot. Friday seemed to usher in the silly hot season. Due to humidity ‘the feels like’ radar goes up about 5 ‘c. So the moments outside yesterday going from air conditioned cab to air conidtioned office were quite unpleasant.
I decided to usher in this new era by having my first run of hockey in Shanghai.
I did one run down the filed and felt like I was wearing a slightly tight around the thighs disco suit made of pink bats. Although I wasn’t itchy, I was extremely overheated.
I don’t know how the athletes are going to go in Beijing with this kind of carry on.
30 mins of hockey in the sticky sun was not enough to deter me from Cricket the next day. We lost the toss and we got put in to field. A crucial toss to loose. It was 37 ‘c but actual felt like low 40’s. so hot as. I got called up to wicket keeping duty. So I now have to stand in the 40’s in my long pants and now pads and gloves on top. After the first over I was hotter than Satan’s chaffing. It was hard to beat the thirst ,everything you drank got sweat straight out.
Despite drinking vigorously behind the stumps, my in between innings tinkle was still like golden syrup.
When it came time for us to bat I asked to go down a couple of places because I was not in state to go straight back out there and open. So I went in at number four. And blow me down if we were 2 down after ten balls.
Getting to sleep at night is proving a bit of a mission to. The air conditioner struggles to keep things in check. I am open to suggestion on how to keep the night sweats at bay.. Although I think my body should consider shredding some insulation. I know it thinks it’s a good idea to store some of my food for a rainy day. But I think my body has gone a bit overboard here. I would have thought that after about 3 years of, and lets be honest here, fairly good eating. My body would have been conditioned into thinking that the likelihood of famine is diminishing. So it should feel free to put a little less energy in storage. Maybe I should sleep with my brain closer to my puku so they can have a little chat about this.
So now there is no rain, someone just turned the fan heater up to number 5. It is crazy hot. Friday seemed to usher in the silly hot season. Due to humidity ‘the feels like’ radar goes up about 5 ‘c. So the moments outside yesterday going from air conditioned cab to air conidtioned office were quite unpleasant.
I decided to usher in this new era by having my first run of hockey in Shanghai.
I did one run down the filed and felt like I was wearing a slightly tight around the thighs disco suit made of pink bats. Although I wasn’t itchy, I was extremely overheated.
I don’t know how the athletes are going to go in Beijing with this kind of carry on.
30 mins of hockey in the sticky sun was not enough to deter me from Cricket the next day. We lost the toss and we got put in to field. A crucial toss to loose. It was 37 ‘c but actual felt like low 40’s. so hot as. I got called up to wicket keeping duty. So I now have to stand in the 40’s in my long pants and now pads and gloves on top. After the first over I was hotter than Satan’s chaffing. It was hard to beat the thirst ,everything you drank got sweat straight out.
Despite drinking vigorously behind the stumps, my in between innings tinkle was still like golden syrup.
When it came time for us to bat I asked to go down a couple of places because I was not in state to go straight back out there and open. So I went in at number four. And blow me down if we were 2 down after ten balls.
Getting to sleep at night is proving a bit of a mission to. The air conditioner struggles to keep things in check. I am open to suggestion on how to keep the night sweats at bay.. Although I think my body should consider shredding some insulation. I know it thinks it’s a good idea to store some of my food for a rainy day. But I think my body has gone a bit overboard here. I would have thought that after about 3 years of, and lets be honest here, fairly good eating. My body would have been conditioned into thinking that the likelihood of famine is diminishing. So it should feel free to put a little less energy in storage. Maybe I should sleep with my brain closer to my puku so they can have a little chat about this.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Probably not going back for seconds.
Dear all, my humble apologies to you my loyal readers. It has been longer than expected since my last blog entry. I apologize for this, Work has taken over in recent weeks and given me a bit of a schooling. So I have been head down tails up.
My first guests came stayed with me this past weekend. It was absolutely sensational to have some friendly and familiar faces to stay. So thanks to you Josh and Claire for dropping in . It was great to have a reason to go exploring this funny ol city. Any of you out there are always welcome to come visit
I went to adidas 09 Q1 clothing launch last night is was quite the spectacle. We sat in an opera theater and after a few formalities they brought out the stars – Gilbert Arenas of the Washington Wizards and Mr Kung Fu himself Jet Li. The Chinese went absolutely gaga over him showing up. Then they showed off the new season threads which looked - fabulous. But not sure that my figure will do them as much justice as the Italian medallion stallions hawking the wears last night.
I had the real deal Chinese meal the other night. A kiwi friend of mine and his visiting folks went to out with his Chinese manager. This restaurant was gold plated / painted every where you looked. It was bling. The meal was pretty darn good. I got to try frogs on toast which wasn’t too bad. Although not as chocolaty as I remember from the 80’s But to be honest it was just like eating garlic mushrooms so leave the poor buggers alone I reckon. I hate fly’s more than I dislike frogs so let em lily pad out there days.
Half way through the next dish I found myself halfway through a mouthful and in the middle of a moral dilemma. I had already buried a few helpings before someone else asked what it actually was. I was a bit distressed to hear it was shark fin noodles. Actually very edible but sad times to eat. I trust the ‘when in Rome’ clause abstains me from any moral liability. We then had a prolonged discussion about sharks entitled ‘Man the Chinese are making it even more difficult for lifeguards to keep swimmers safe’
To keep the thirst at bay we were drinking Chinese rice wine. Bi Jiao. It is not really wine in the sense you have it in a shot glass and it is more like 60% proof. It was absolutely disgusting and lingered on the palette (or what was left of it) for about 5 minutes. On closer inspection I thought it was apt that the porcelain bottle actually had a plastic child lock lid like a turpentine spirits bottle. I am in fact convinced the two would be completely interchangeable. Sheesh!
On another note my Blog seems to now be legal in China again. Which is really not that good for me because now people I know here can scrutinize my banter.
My first guests came stayed with me this past weekend. It was absolutely sensational to have some friendly and familiar faces to stay. So thanks to you Josh and Claire for dropping in . It was great to have a reason to go exploring this funny ol city. Any of you out there are always welcome to come visit
I went to adidas 09 Q1 clothing launch last night is was quite the spectacle. We sat in an opera theater and after a few formalities they brought out the stars – Gilbert Arenas of the Washington Wizards and Mr Kung Fu himself Jet Li. The Chinese went absolutely gaga over him showing up. Then they showed off the new season threads which looked - fabulous. But not sure that my figure will do them as much justice as the Italian medallion stallions hawking the wears last night.
I had the real deal Chinese meal the other night. A kiwi friend of mine and his visiting folks went to out with his Chinese manager. This restaurant was gold plated / painted every where you looked. It was bling. The meal was pretty darn good. I got to try frogs on toast which wasn’t too bad. Although not as chocolaty as I remember from the 80’s But to be honest it was just like eating garlic mushrooms so leave the poor buggers alone I reckon. I hate fly’s more than I dislike frogs so let em lily pad out there days.
Half way through the next dish I found myself halfway through a mouthful and in the middle of a moral dilemma. I had already buried a few helpings before someone else asked what it actually was. I was a bit distressed to hear it was shark fin noodles. Actually very edible but sad times to eat. I trust the ‘when in Rome’ clause abstains me from any moral liability. We then had a prolonged discussion about sharks entitled ‘Man the Chinese are making it even more difficult for lifeguards to keep swimmers safe’
To keep the thirst at bay we were drinking Chinese rice wine. Bi Jiao. It is not really wine in the sense you have it in a shot glass and it is more like 60% proof. It was absolutely disgusting and lingered on the palette (or what was left of it) for about 5 minutes. On closer inspection I thought it was apt that the porcelain bottle actually had a plastic child lock lid like a turpentine spirits bottle. I am in fact convinced the two would be completely interchangeable. Sheesh!
On another note my Blog seems to now be legal in China again. Which is really not that good for me because now people I know here can scrutinize my banter.
Monday, June 23, 2008
A great moment in sport
A great moment occurred in cricket history the other day.
The Bashers CC is well known for giving people a go. This past weekend we had a Swiss , Italian, German and Frency all making the debuts in cricket a true toast the global community which we live in.
We had been put into bat by the other team. We had freely volunteered our German to fill in for the other team who were short a fielder.
The French guy had had a particularly rough night the evening before. so much so that after an hour in the sun he feel asleep behind fine leg. Not being familiar with the rules of cricket he was unaware he fallen asleep in the field of play.
The German was slightly annoyed that the French guy had decided to sleep where he was fielding so tried a few times to wake him up. Our captain then gave him a couple of prods with a one of the stumps but still nothing.
However, Frank the Frenchy was out to the world. An over later the German decided more severe tactics might be required. In what will go down as the greatest moment in crciket The German took a few paces back and with a bit of a run up, ran at him shouting “Zee Germans are coming’ The Frenchman lay still and unresponsive on the ground, to which one of lads yelled. “That was the same reaction they gave last time” Just magic.
The Bashers CC is well known for giving people a go. This past weekend we had a Swiss , Italian, German and Frency all making the debuts in cricket a true toast the global community which we live in.
We had been put into bat by the other team. We had freely volunteered our German to fill in for the other team who were short a fielder.
The French guy had had a particularly rough night the evening before. so much so that after an hour in the sun he feel asleep behind fine leg. Not being familiar with the rules of cricket he was unaware he fallen asleep in the field of play.
The German was slightly annoyed that the French guy had decided to sleep where he was fielding so tried a few times to wake him up. Our captain then gave him a couple of prods with a one of the stumps but still nothing.
However, Frank the Frenchy was out to the world. An over later the German decided more severe tactics might be required. In what will go down as the greatest moment in crciket The German took a few paces back and with a bit of a run up, ran at him shouting “Zee Germans are coming’ The Frenchman lay still and unresponsive on the ground, to which one of lads yelled. “That was the same reaction they gave last time” Just magic.
p before you q
One thing I don't understand is why there are queues in places. Sure when there is limited supply of resources, then it is inevitable that there will be a bit of a bottle neck. But surely people should do their best to make everyones life easier. Its just the good guy thing to do. As I write this I am waiting in the work permit hall at the entry and exit visa establishment in Pu Dong. The digital board is flashing red, a new number, 274, counter 6. I check that against my ticket, which just like then ten check before, still reads 456. At a rate of an update every 5 minutes. I know I will be here for a while. The average wait is about 2 hours here. They have had the courtesy to deck it out like an airport waiting lounge so you have a seat. As I look around every seat is full. This suggests they are well aware that this many people will be waiting. So why not put more people on the desks? There must be no Chinese equivalent of Sherlock.
From a quick count there are 20 desks to conduct the processing, of which about four are manned. (or womaned if I want to maintain the high PC integrity of this blog). Now last time I checked China wasn’t exactly in the middle of a labor force shortage.
Case in point two nights ago a nice lady happily spent 30 minutes cleaning 25 years worth of debris from my ears for the handsome sum of $1.80. So, I would have to assume that the current lack of staff is due to it being lunchtime. However, that is not a great excuse in fact it is not even a bad excuse. It is just no excuse. This is exactly the palaver they get up to at LAX immigration. Who cares about this 747 full of foreigners, I need another doughnut. Actually there might be some Americans on there so we better give them a special section with a one officer per passenger.
I have heard it said the patience is a virtue. Sure, I am happy to try and develop some of that. But how about the knobs and eggs doing the roosters meet me half way so I don’t have to spend my life tapping my toe waiting for them to join the party.
From a quick count there are 20 desks to conduct the processing, of which about four are manned. (or womaned if I want to maintain the high PC integrity of this blog). Now last time I checked China wasn’t exactly in the middle of a labor force shortage.
Case in point two nights ago a nice lady happily spent 30 minutes cleaning 25 years worth of debris from my ears for the handsome sum of $1.80. So, I would have to assume that the current lack of staff is due to it being lunchtime. However, that is not a great excuse in fact it is not even a bad excuse. It is just no excuse. This is exactly the palaver they get up to at LAX immigration. Who cares about this 747 full of foreigners, I need another doughnut. Actually there might be some Americans on there so we better give them a special section with a one officer per passenger.
I have heard it said the patience is a virtue. Sure, I am happy to try and develop some of that. But how about the knobs and eggs doing the roosters meet me half way so I don’t have to spend my life tapping my toe waiting for them to join the party.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Rain drops keep falling on my head
I hope you enjoyed my last installment about the smells of Shanghai. I wont take it too personally that you were far keener to hear me find creative ways to describe nostril invasion than hear my collective words of wisdom. No doubt I will try and dispense this over the course of the next few blogs.
It’s rainy season here at the moment. One thing growing up in Wellington taught me is that umbrellas are a complete waste of time. No sooner had you got it out in Welly than the wind had blown it back inside itself. On a moderate gust day every rubbish bins along Lambton Quay would be sporting 3 or 4 umbrella trophy’s. Persistence was certainly not going to pay off in this scenario.
So my lack of habitual umbrella possession has frequently caught me out. But now that I have accepted that it is going to rain everyday it makes it slightly easier to remember.
If biking wasn’t dangerous enough, the other day I was doing it one handed whilst wielding my umbrella. It would occasionally be filled with a wind gust that would pull me ground ward or into oncoming traffic. Believe me this idea is stupider than it sounds and I have since given it the chop. Marry Poppins made it look so easy. Everyone else has these heavy-duty covers that go over them and their bikes. I need to get one.
Last weekend I rode my bike to a shoot we were doing. When I went to leave it was absolutely hosing down.
It would have been raining cats and dogs but the got eaten already.
There wasn’t really much point in dilly-dallying. As I stood there looking at what seemed like the start of the great flood I pondered my options. Alas, for my bike and I (that sounds like a place in Kapiti) there was no other way than to bite the bullet. By my calculations I was pretty sure I would get home and be about 50% soaked and slightly less if I biked quickly and got favorable lights.
Before I reached the end of the driveway I was wetter than a submarine. There was thunder and lightening blasting down and I was pretty much drowning on two wheels.
The gutters on either side of the road were almost overflowing into each other. Meanwhile the lightening and thunder is just going for it. I picked up the pace, as the increasing number of lightening bolts combined with me riding in water, was an concept I was not too enthusiastic about. I took refuge on the tiled footpath, under the trees (safe from the lightening).
However, this particular stretch of footpath was that all-weather tile stuff.
As I approached an intersection my hair wax crust had abandoned my hair was making a run for it down into my eyes.
I needed to slow to make a slight right turn to get back on to the road
However, as soon as I applied a little bit of brakes my tires didn’t find any traction. I was suddenly horizontal and sliding with great ease and momentum across the tiles. It wasn't time to get all nostalgic but my mind flashed back to our 1980’s Taupo holiday slippery slide. I finally stopped when a puddle offered enough resistance. So I was now in dire need of a snorkel.
I got up and wrung myself off (context makes this phrase fine) and got back on my bike. And gunned it home down the middle of the road. When I got back to the garage under my apartment I realized my bike lock had been lost. Figuring it had probably come off in the spill. I then had to go back out in the deluge to go and retrieve. It, which was a ten-minute return journey. not stoked to be soaked.
I would like to go back to the all weather tile situation. Wellington has got particularly bad in recent Urban developments. How difficult can it be to pave the footpath with bricks or tiles? The base requirements are looks nice, and works in wet and dry conditions. On a dry day, no worries. On wet day most of these pedestrian areas become a natural selection accelerator. The amount of times I have lost my footing and turned to the observing bystander and said 'aw, that was close' or 'wopsy daisy'
Why do we always feel compelled to make some inane comment to that guy anyway? I guess there must be some kind of camaraderie in that fleeting moment. It’s a kind of a, I know, that you know, that I almost wasted myself bond. A special bond you share between him, you and that funny feeling that shot up your loins and into your puku.
It’s rainy season here at the moment. One thing growing up in Wellington taught me is that umbrellas are a complete waste of time. No sooner had you got it out in Welly than the wind had blown it back inside itself. On a moderate gust day every rubbish bins along Lambton Quay would be sporting 3 or 4 umbrella trophy’s. Persistence was certainly not going to pay off in this scenario.
So my lack of habitual umbrella possession has frequently caught me out. But now that I have accepted that it is going to rain everyday it makes it slightly easier to remember.
If biking wasn’t dangerous enough, the other day I was doing it one handed whilst wielding my umbrella. It would occasionally be filled with a wind gust that would pull me ground ward or into oncoming traffic. Believe me this idea is stupider than it sounds and I have since given it the chop. Marry Poppins made it look so easy. Everyone else has these heavy-duty covers that go over them and their bikes. I need to get one.
Last weekend I rode my bike to a shoot we were doing. When I went to leave it was absolutely hosing down.
It would have been raining cats and dogs but the got eaten already.
There wasn’t really much point in dilly-dallying. As I stood there looking at what seemed like the start of the great flood I pondered my options. Alas, for my bike and I (that sounds like a place in Kapiti) there was no other way than to bite the bullet. By my calculations I was pretty sure I would get home and be about 50% soaked and slightly less if I biked quickly and got favorable lights.
Before I reached the end of the driveway I was wetter than a submarine. There was thunder and lightening blasting down and I was pretty much drowning on two wheels.
The gutters on either side of the road were almost overflowing into each other. Meanwhile the lightening and thunder is just going for it. I picked up the pace, as the increasing number of lightening bolts combined with me riding in water, was an concept I was not too enthusiastic about. I took refuge on the tiled footpath, under the trees (safe from the lightening).
However, this particular stretch of footpath was that all-weather tile stuff.
As I approached an intersection my hair wax crust had abandoned my hair was making a run for it down into my eyes.
I needed to slow to make a slight right turn to get back on to the road
However, as soon as I applied a little bit of brakes my tires didn’t find any traction. I was suddenly horizontal and sliding with great ease and momentum across the tiles. It wasn't time to get all nostalgic but my mind flashed back to our 1980’s Taupo holiday slippery slide. I finally stopped when a puddle offered enough resistance. So I was now in dire need of a snorkel.
I got up and wrung myself off (context makes this phrase fine) and got back on my bike. And gunned it home down the middle of the road. When I got back to the garage under my apartment I realized my bike lock had been lost. Figuring it had probably come off in the spill. I then had to go back out in the deluge to go and retrieve. It, which was a ten-minute return journey. not stoked to be soaked.
I would like to go back to the all weather tile situation. Wellington has got particularly bad in recent Urban developments. How difficult can it be to pave the footpath with bricks or tiles? The base requirements are looks nice, and works in wet and dry conditions. On a dry day, no worries. On wet day most of these pedestrian areas become a natural selection accelerator. The amount of times I have lost my footing and turned to the observing bystander and said 'aw, that was close' or 'wopsy daisy'
Why do we always feel compelled to make some inane comment to that guy anyway? I guess there must be some kind of camaraderie in that fleeting moment. It’s a kind of a, I know, that you know, that I almost wasted myself bond. A special bond you share between him, you and that funny feeling that shot up your loins and into your puku.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Get your sniff on.
After months of extensive nasal research I am pretty sure I have got it down packed. This type of account has never been published in the tourist guides of Shanghai. The raw truth to potent to be legal. So please allow me to elaborate where the Lonely Planet dare not go.
There are four tones that form the basis of the Mandarin language. I have also discovered that there are coincidently four basics smells, which make up that atmosphere in Shanghai. But before we go into those we need to establish the neutral every day smells. These are the base fragrances that fill the air.
There is the Alpha smell here. Which smells like you have been to Great Aunty Mavis’s house and pulled an encyclopedia from 1954 off the shelf. As you peel back the cover and open it, swordfish scatter off the type. You are overcome by a musty plume, that is not at all palatable. This asthmatics delight is the basic smell, which gives the air its underlying chewable quality.
There is a Beta smell which is stronger and even out musters, musty book. It is dirty old cigarette smoke. Every chinaman loves his cancer sticks. The varieties are heaps stronger and lung munting. This smell can usually be avoided with a side step. Which returns you back to musty book. But, in a bar or local restaurant longevity of the lungs takes a back seat as, live in the now runs the show.
So the prevailing smells are Musty book and nasty nicotine . But more often than not they are interrupted by something even more special. These are the 4 tones that turn your streetly saunter to a light canter. Your body usually votes with its feet long before your nose has regained consciousness. Make sure you have a good pair of sneakers when one of the following smells enters stage right.
The first is chicken coop.
This smell takes me back. It is straw, mixed with caked-on wheat and grain filled chicken poop. Made even more potent when the egg collection run is done in the heat of a balmy mid thirties afternoon.
The next is a real chest tightener. It goes through the nose and deep into the lungs. I liken it to the sensory exhilaration one would get if you found yourself eating olives stuffed with blue vein goat cheese whilst your head is buried in a vacuum cleaner bag. Your nose staggers to regain consciousness and you become incredible thirsty.
Now I wish to say that chicken coop and blue vein dust bag are over in whiff. But many a time have I expectantly taken a deep breath of musty book only to find that I am still within range of the chicken coop. It’s not good.
This next smell is usually over in a flash but not before it has shaken out of you your will to live. This one smells like a giraffe has taken a number two in an old pair running shoes. This is the one that makes you stop and check you haven’t soiled your own pants.
The last is the old favorite used nappy on a gas cooker. This has hints of mashed pumpkin mixed with baby poo burning in a disposable nappy. Whilst the smell is obviously unpleasant it's the warmth it brings to the nasal passage. The warmth of the gas cooker really ads to the flare. Due to the initially quite savory aroma of pumpkin it usually has a Trojan horse effect. Ones unsuspecting nose is tricked into thinking it is being offered a welcome reprieve from musty book or cancer sticks. The nose widens the nostrils and it is in Pinocchio heaven for a split second before it becomes aware of its tragic mistake. It’s too late to start up the extractor fan or light a match now. So I start the engines and start to gallop.
Through all of these the locals sit around eating and conversing amongst the smell, blissfully unphased by the fact that Armageddon may have just begun.
So rest assured my nose is having a real adventure over here. Whilst my eyes have been left holding the short straw. Due to the dreary grey of the pollution there is pretty much no vibrancy to the colors here.
I am sure what would happen if normal people started reading my blog. I am also sure China Tourism would put me on the block. However,I really do think Shanghai could be a lot more proactive with its pollution mitigation policy. I might invite the mayor out for lunch and take him on a guided nasal tour.
There are four tones that form the basis of the Mandarin language. I have also discovered that there are coincidently four basics smells, which make up that atmosphere in Shanghai. But before we go into those we need to establish the neutral every day smells. These are the base fragrances that fill the air.
There is the Alpha smell here. Which smells like you have been to Great Aunty Mavis’s house and pulled an encyclopedia from 1954 off the shelf. As you peel back the cover and open it, swordfish scatter off the type. You are overcome by a musty plume, that is not at all palatable. This asthmatics delight is the basic smell, which gives the air its underlying chewable quality.
There is a Beta smell which is stronger and even out musters, musty book. It is dirty old cigarette smoke. Every chinaman loves his cancer sticks. The varieties are heaps stronger and lung munting. This smell can usually be avoided with a side step. Which returns you back to musty book. But, in a bar or local restaurant longevity of the lungs takes a back seat as, live in the now runs the show.
So the prevailing smells are Musty book and nasty nicotine . But more often than not they are interrupted by something even more special. These are the 4 tones that turn your streetly saunter to a light canter. Your body usually votes with its feet long before your nose has regained consciousness. Make sure you have a good pair of sneakers when one of the following smells enters stage right.
The first is chicken coop.
This smell takes me back. It is straw, mixed with caked-on wheat and grain filled chicken poop. Made even more potent when the egg collection run is done in the heat of a balmy mid thirties afternoon.
The next is a real chest tightener. It goes through the nose and deep into the lungs. I liken it to the sensory exhilaration one would get if you found yourself eating olives stuffed with blue vein goat cheese whilst your head is buried in a vacuum cleaner bag. Your nose staggers to regain consciousness and you become incredible thirsty.
Now I wish to say that chicken coop and blue vein dust bag are over in whiff. But many a time have I expectantly taken a deep breath of musty book only to find that I am still within range of the chicken coop. It’s not good.
This next smell is usually over in a flash but not before it has shaken out of you your will to live. This one smells like a giraffe has taken a number two in an old pair running shoes. This is the one that makes you stop and check you haven’t soiled your own pants.
The last is the old favorite used nappy on a gas cooker. This has hints of mashed pumpkin mixed with baby poo burning in a disposable nappy. Whilst the smell is obviously unpleasant it's the warmth it brings to the nasal passage. The warmth of the gas cooker really ads to the flare. Due to the initially quite savory aroma of pumpkin it usually has a Trojan horse effect. Ones unsuspecting nose is tricked into thinking it is being offered a welcome reprieve from musty book or cancer sticks. The nose widens the nostrils and it is in Pinocchio heaven for a split second before it becomes aware of its tragic mistake. It’s too late to start up the extractor fan or light a match now. So I start the engines and start to gallop.
Through all of these the locals sit around eating and conversing amongst the smell, blissfully unphased by the fact that Armageddon may have just begun.
So rest assured my nose is having a real adventure over here. Whilst my eyes have been left holding the short straw. Due to the dreary grey of the pollution there is pretty much no vibrancy to the colors here.
I am sure what would happen if normal people started reading my blog. I am also sure China Tourism would put me on the block. However,I really do think Shanghai could be a lot more proactive with its pollution mitigation policy. I might invite the mayor out for lunch and take him on a guided nasal tour.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
The boy who cried towering inferno.
Rightio.
Back in the writing saddle.
I would like to take a moment to thank you my loyal readers for tuning in to read my blog. It is nice to know you are there. Because for once in my life, the conversations that happen in my head on a fairly regular basis now have a reason to get out. That sentence should probably raise some concerns for most of you. However, This blog certainly contributes to keeping me sane in this city. So thanks for reading. I am encouraged by your intermittent feedback so don’t be afraid to drop me a sneaky comment or two.
I need to apologies for the distinct lack of photos accompanying the blog. There is almost more going on visually than there is nasally here. I suggest one can get an authentic nasal sense of the blog if you step in a dog poo just before you sit down to read.
But visually it is hard for ones imagination to get on board. Especially when my explanations are anything but, to the point.
The short of it is my camera went patu after about 20 photos. I have taken it in to be serviced today. I have booked the camera, so the photos will come.
Well enough of the emo, what shall we discuss today.
I learnt a new way to make a dick out of ones self yesterday. I thought I had given this a good nudge already. But unsurprisingly there is plenty of gas left in the how- to-make-a-spectacle-out-of-yourself tank.
I was talking on the phone as the sun started making its return journey back to the horizon. I was looking out the window and as I turned my head I let out as a gasp as my eyes refocused. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There were raging orange flames filling the windows of a building across the way.
I quickly surveyed the office for any sign of reaction from my thirty or so present colleagues. They all seemed blissfully unaware that this towering inferno was taking place.
I’ll admit to getting a little bit excited, because there is always something about being the one to deliver the news. I grabbed the opportunity by the horns.
I ran to the window and shouted ‘oh my goodness there is a fire’
When I got to the window the flames now appeared to also be licking the adjacent building’s windows too. I yelled again, this time almost cracking a high note. My escalating excitement rattled around the room.
With everyone’s now undivided attention I looked back towards the building, my face pressed against the window. My excitement turns to bemusement as I realize the first building is no longer ‘on fire’. It is in fact in perfect health. Now I have twenty or so colleagues gazing at me, rather than at my fire.
With a captive audience demanding to see fire I start searching for answers.
I take a step back to my original vantage point and suddenly it is on fire again.
I look to my right and see the low setting Shanghai sun. It is burning a fiery orange as it angrily tries to break through the smog.
Turns out it was all just smoke and mirrors, the old orange sun reflection chestnut. It was very convincing and it certainly had me hook line a sinker.
All my momentarily alarmed colleagues gave me a slightly unnerving sympathetic look before returning to their work.
So a bit of a shocker really. Next time I will be sure to double check if I think something is on fire. Because I am only another false alarm from being the boy who cried wolf.
As this blog winds to an end it is time for me to put my pen to rest but let my imagination run wild. For my next blog topic it's readers choice. Option A is a blog post dedicated to trying to classify the different phylum of smells in Shanghai. or Option B is my collection of wisdom based on the things your mother didn't get around to telling you.
In the words of captain Planet - The power is yours'. (Pertinent quote given to day is Earth Day 2008)
Back in the writing saddle.
I would like to take a moment to thank you my loyal readers for tuning in to read my blog. It is nice to know you are there. Because for once in my life, the conversations that happen in my head on a fairly regular basis now have a reason to get out. That sentence should probably raise some concerns for most of you. However, This blog certainly contributes to keeping me sane in this city. So thanks for reading. I am encouraged by your intermittent feedback so don’t be afraid to drop me a sneaky comment or two.
I need to apologies for the distinct lack of photos accompanying the blog. There is almost more going on visually than there is nasally here. I suggest one can get an authentic nasal sense of the blog if you step in a dog poo just before you sit down to read.
But visually it is hard for ones imagination to get on board. Especially when my explanations are anything but, to the point.
The short of it is my camera went patu after about 20 photos. I have taken it in to be serviced today. I have booked the camera, so the photos will come.
Well enough of the emo, what shall we discuss today.
I learnt a new way to make a dick out of ones self yesterday. I thought I had given this a good nudge already. But unsurprisingly there is plenty of gas left in the how- to-make-a-spectacle-out-of-yourself tank.
I was talking on the phone as the sun started making its return journey back to the horizon. I was looking out the window and as I turned my head I let out as a gasp as my eyes refocused. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There were raging orange flames filling the windows of a building across the way.
I quickly surveyed the office for any sign of reaction from my thirty or so present colleagues. They all seemed blissfully unaware that this towering inferno was taking place.
I’ll admit to getting a little bit excited, because there is always something about being the one to deliver the news. I grabbed the opportunity by the horns.
I ran to the window and shouted ‘oh my goodness there is a fire’
When I got to the window the flames now appeared to also be licking the adjacent building’s windows too. I yelled again, this time almost cracking a high note. My escalating excitement rattled around the room.
With everyone’s now undivided attention I looked back towards the building, my face pressed against the window. My excitement turns to bemusement as I realize the first building is no longer ‘on fire’. It is in fact in perfect health. Now I have twenty or so colleagues gazing at me, rather than at my fire.
With a captive audience demanding to see fire I start searching for answers.
I take a step back to my original vantage point and suddenly it is on fire again.
I look to my right and see the low setting Shanghai sun. It is burning a fiery orange as it angrily tries to break through the smog.
Turns out it was all just smoke and mirrors, the old orange sun reflection chestnut. It was very convincing and it certainly had me hook line a sinker.
All my momentarily alarmed colleagues gave me a slightly unnerving sympathetic look before returning to their work.
So a bit of a shocker really. Next time I will be sure to double check if I think something is on fire. Because I am only another false alarm from being the boy who cried wolf.
As this blog winds to an end it is time for me to put my pen to rest but let my imagination run wild. For my next blog topic it's readers choice. Option A is a blog post dedicated to trying to classify the different phylum of smells in Shanghai. or Option B is my collection of wisdom based on the things your mother didn't get around to telling you.
In the words of captain Planet - The power is yours'. (Pertinent quote given to day is Earth Day 2008)
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Accquistions and Mergers
I have been acquiring a few DVD’s and I plan to catch up on all the seasons of Boston Legal over the next month. I will then move on to demolishing the rest of House. No matter how much time I have up my sleeve I will never ever start watching Lost. Unless, I was in a particularly ironic mood. And was granted a choice of one form of entertainment before being marooned on a deserted island. However, the novelty of my humor would soon wear off. I would then be forced to live in the torment of watching a pointless show the scriptwriters have no idea how to finish. Lost is a good reason the writers strike should have remained a classic case of lets agree to disagree.
Last night I acquired myself a bicycle. It is a classic one gear, ready-to-go cruiser bike. It unfortunately weighs a metric tonne, which is pain in the elevator (see what I did there) But with our combined weights it should give me a fighting chance in my inevitable head on with a stray taxi.
There is not one piece of evidence to support the notion that riding a bicycle in Shangahi is a safe idea. No greater irreverence has ever been shown for the saddle, towards ones personal well being. At least not since male, soap-dodging, naturalists, took to riding horses bare-back.
But if I wish to explore this giant of a city there is no better means than on bike back. Wish me luck. I hope to live to tell the stories. The positive side is this should definitely increase my photo opportunities. So stay tuned.
I am also acquiring a little bit of Mandarin at the moment. I have discovered that if I take lessons I will learn faster. This is proving far more productive than my immersion and highly favored osmosis techniques. It is a touch frustrating currently because you have to learn how to make all the Chinese sounds. Most of which do not come that naturally at all and they often sound exactly the same.
The four tones thing is a touch tricky. This is where every vowel has 4 different ways of being pronounced which completely changes what the words mean. However, this brings more joy to Chinese than anything else in the world. They just love listening to the La Wai trying to speak in Chinese.
The efficiency created by every word having at least four different meanings also makes this language the most open to pun’s. I can’t wait to learn them and purposefully use them incorrectly all the time.
I am prioritizing learning how to bargain in Mandarin. I will then leverage my ‘I am local’ status to avoid paying Lao Wai prices.
The only merger to speak off seems to be the one between my large and small intestines. With the small one forgetting its job and letting everything in sundry pass through border control without clearing immigration. Someone neglected to tell the Delhi Belly that he is not welcome in Shanghai. Anyhow, Should be good for the quick loss of a couple of kg’s.
Last night I acquired myself a bicycle. It is a classic one gear, ready-to-go cruiser bike. It unfortunately weighs a metric tonne, which is pain in the elevator (see what I did there) But with our combined weights it should give me a fighting chance in my inevitable head on with a stray taxi.
There is not one piece of evidence to support the notion that riding a bicycle in Shangahi is a safe idea. No greater irreverence has ever been shown for the saddle, towards ones personal well being. At least not since male, soap-dodging, naturalists, took to riding horses bare-back.
But if I wish to explore this giant of a city there is no better means than on bike back. Wish me luck. I hope to live to tell the stories. The positive side is this should definitely increase my photo opportunities. So stay tuned.
I am also acquiring a little bit of Mandarin at the moment. I have discovered that if I take lessons I will learn faster. This is proving far more productive than my immersion and highly favored osmosis techniques. It is a touch frustrating currently because you have to learn how to make all the Chinese sounds. Most of which do not come that naturally at all and they often sound exactly the same.
The four tones thing is a touch tricky. This is where every vowel has 4 different ways of being pronounced which completely changes what the words mean. However, this brings more joy to Chinese than anything else in the world. They just love listening to the La Wai trying to speak in Chinese.
The efficiency created by every word having at least four different meanings also makes this language the most open to pun’s. I can’t wait to learn them and purposefully use them incorrectly all the time.
I am prioritizing learning how to bargain in Mandarin. I will then leverage my ‘I am local’ status to avoid paying Lao Wai prices.
The only merger to speak off seems to be the one between my large and small intestines. With the small one forgetting its job and letting everything in sundry pass through border control without clearing immigration. Someone neglected to tell the Delhi Belly that he is not welcome in Shanghai. Anyhow, Should be good for the quick loss of a couple of kg’s.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
An apple a day won't keep the Chinese away
Finally got down to the police station on Monday. I was 5 days late to register, but sweet as. Every time I leave the country or change address I need to go the police station and re register. It is a bit of pain so one must try and be prepared with every necessary document. If something goes wrong you definitely have to phone a friend, as asking the audience is fruitless if you get in to trouble.
I had to pay homage to the red tape brigade again yesterday. I had to go and get the necessary health checks for my Work Permit. Yes that’s right I am still not quite legal to work here yet.
The medial test was out of this world. I had to report to this hospital which is called the Entry and exit inspection and quarantine hospital.
It was the most efficient thing I have ever been to. Check-in. Then go to the first room in the corridor fill out the form. Go pay your fee in another room. Then you go to another room and get your kit off. The robes were definitely over runs from a Jedi knight convention. Which made me feel awesome. I then wondered if my light saber would be part of any of the upcoming health checks.
I then went to the far end of the corridor. Where they took some blood.
Came out of there. Went into the next room where the nice man took my chest x-ray. I like that fact that he had to leave the room to take the picture and didn’t even have the courtesy to cover my nuts for me.
Don’t worry mate I am sure my three handed children will give great high fives.
Then I got all lubed up for the ultrasound. Luckily they couldn’t make out anything. I think I saw the nurse write something about fatty build up. I should have explained there was no build up and this is just the way I came out.
Then I saw the eye doctor. Which is always a good start to a vision test.
I then had a sneaky ECG to finish and I was done. Whilst highly efficient it was slightly dehumanizing. I am sure Fisher and Pykel Dish draws get more how’s your father on the production line.
I get my results next week and as long as I haven’t unwittingly contracted the bubonic plague I should be allowed to stay.
We had a fantastic thunder and lightening storm last night. It was pissing down like four drunks at a urinal all night. The thunder was super loud and the lightening was forking all over the place. It was like the perfect storm. I wish I had a hot milo and was under a tin roof.
This storm bucked the trend as by in large things are getting very hot and sweaty here. I do miss a nice gentle Wellington sea breeze.
I had to pay homage to the red tape brigade again yesterday. I had to go and get the necessary health checks for my Work Permit. Yes that’s right I am still not quite legal to work here yet.
The medial test was out of this world. I had to report to this hospital which is called the Entry and exit inspection and quarantine hospital.
It was the most efficient thing I have ever been to. Check-in. Then go to the first room in the corridor fill out the form. Go pay your fee in another room. Then you go to another room and get your kit off. The robes were definitely over runs from a Jedi knight convention. Which made me feel awesome. I then wondered if my light saber would be part of any of the upcoming health checks.
I then went to the far end of the corridor. Where they took some blood.
Came out of there. Went into the next room where the nice man took my chest x-ray. I like that fact that he had to leave the room to take the picture and didn’t even have the courtesy to cover my nuts for me.
Don’t worry mate I am sure my three handed children will give great high fives.
Then I got all lubed up for the ultrasound. Luckily they couldn’t make out anything. I think I saw the nurse write something about fatty build up. I should have explained there was no build up and this is just the way I came out.
Then I saw the eye doctor. Which is always a good start to a vision test.
I then had a sneaky ECG to finish and I was done. Whilst highly efficient it was slightly dehumanizing. I am sure Fisher and Pykel Dish draws get more how’s your father on the production line.
I get my results next week and as long as I haven’t unwittingly contracted the bubonic plague I should be allowed to stay.
We had a fantastic thunder and lightening storm last night. It was pissing down like four drunks at a urinal all night. The thunder was super loud and the lightening was forking all over the place. It was like the perfect storm. I wish I had a hot milo and was under a tin roof.
This storm bucked the trend as by in large things are getting very hot and sweaty here. I do miss a nice gentle Wellington sea breeze.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Shanghai Act II: Back in the Habit
It has nearly been one week back on deck here in Shanghai. I have again made contact and infiltrated myself among my Shanghainese brethren.
A week in the NZ air had been a real highlight on the return journey. However, it did make the first couple of days here a bit of a battle. I had forgotten how much of Shanghai smells like an old mans stale armpit.
The temperature is starting to climb up here. I think we are politely tapping on the door of the thirties now. Which is a bit of a daunting thought, given it doesn’t start getting proper hot until July. So I am going to have to sit tight here and prepare for the worst. In fact given my partiality to having a good bead I think I should probably find myself a snorkel for those 42-45 degree days.
I have been getting into a bit of sporty spice recently, which has been great. I had cricket practice on Saturday morning followed by a game of football. I stayed in goal for most of the game. When our fate was sealed I thought I would have bit of a run up front. I was in the game for about 60 seconds when I fell over trying to tackle and nailed me knee. So I hobbled back into goal with a rapturous applause from my laughing teammates.
Cricket on Sunday was a good time. We play 35 over games in the boiling heat. I was pouring with sweat after my first throw down.
Me and the other opener put on 89 runs before we had to stop play because his third six in a row landed in the middle of a Buick bonnet outside of the park and caused a bit a scene. So the best Chinese speaker form our team had to go over and negotiate on a settlement before the police were called.
I lost another partner before also losing my own wicket. I was slashing at a rather wide delivery and got a top edge straight to the keeper. I had gained 35 runs and lost about 35 liters of sweat.
We ended up posting 250 off our 35 overs which the other team overhauled needing two runs off the last ball. Stink bro.
On a different note I have embarked on a bit of a work related side project. As a customer reward scheme I am going to high five every person I walk past wearing adidas sneakers or apparel. This is actually pretty ambitious given the population size, there is a bit of it around. You also have to be pretty onto it because there are also lots of imposter's. Brands like adidads. Adida, adids, aids etc are out there trying to snake a sneaky high five too. So there will be plenty of times where I will have to leave some people hanging once I am close enough to realize they are trying to pull a sneaky on me.
The other highlight of my arrival back was going to a Chinese acrobatic show. Some of the stuff going on was unreal. There were crazy feats of strength and flexibility. 12 chicks cycling around on one bike. Guys jumping through hoops about 3 meters of the ground. I am sure they were setting Olympic records for the high jump. The only act that got shafted was this magician that keep pulling white doves out of thin air. The crowd wasn’t really having a bar of it because these half dazed doves had obviously spent the last 20 minutes stuffed in her sleeves and underpants. It is no way to live and the American tour bus crowd were not that forth coming with the clap offering. It is fair to say she was about as popular as Helen Clark in Marae on Waitangi day.
A week in the NZ air had been a real highlight on the return journey. However, it did make the first couple of days here a bit of a battle. I had forgotten how much of Shanghai smells like an old mans stale armpit.
The temperature is starting to climb up here. I think we are politely tapping on the door of the thirties now. Which is a bit of a daunting thought, given it doesn’t start getting proper hot until July. So I am going to have to sit tight here and prepare for the worst. In fact given my partiality to having a good bead I think I should probably find myself a snorkel for those 42-45 degree days.
I have been getting into a bit of sporty spice recently, which has been great. I had cricket practice on Saturday morning followed by a game of football. I stayed in goal for most of the game. When our fate was sealed I thought I would have bit of a run up front. I was in the game for about 60 seconds when I fell over trying to tackle and nailed me knee. So I hobbled back into goal with a rapturous applause from my laughing teammates.
Cricket on Sunday was a good time. We play 35 over games in the boiling heat. I was pouring with sweat after my first throw down.
Me and the other opener put on 89 runs before we had to stop play because his third six in a row landed in the middle of a Buick bonnet outside of the park and caused a bit a scene. So the best Chinese speaker form our team had to go over and negotiate on a settlement before the police were called.
I lost another partner before also losing my own wicket. I was slashing at a rather wide delivery and got a top edge straight to the keeper. I had gained 35 runs and lost about 35 liters of sweat.
We ended up posting 250 off our 35 overs which the other team overhauled needing two runs off the last ball. Stink bro.
On a different note I have embarked on a bit of a work related side project. As a customer reward scheme I am going to high five every person I walk past wearing adidas sneakers or apparel. This is actually pretty ambitious given the population size, there is a bit of it around. You also have to be pretty onto it because there are also lots of imposter's. Brands like adidads. Adida, adids, aids etc are out there trying to snake a sneaky high five too. So there will be plenty of times where I will have to leave some people hanging once I am close enough to realize they are trying to pull a sneaky on me.
The other highlight of my arrival back was going to a Chinese acrobatic show. Some of the stuff going on was unreal. There were crazy feats of strength and flexibility. 12 chicks cycling around on one bike. Guys jumping through hoops about 3 meters of the ground. I am sure they were setting Olympic records for the high jump. The only act that got shafted was this magician that keep pulling white doves out of thin air. The crowd wasn’t really having a bar of it because these half dazed doves had obviously spent the last 20 minutes stuffed in her sleeves and underpants. It is no way to live and the American tour bus crowd were not that forth coming with the clap offering. It is fair to say she was about as popular as Helen Clark in Marae on Waitangi day.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Sneaky, Sneaky
Well I have a little confession to make. The reason I was a bit lite on entries last week was that I was in NZ. You can't really blog about a city you are not in. There ended up being a bit of a visa saga, which meant I had to apply for my visa back in Wellington in person. I had to low key it as it was just weird to be home so soon after my farewell.
So I had to fly with a sinus infection, which wasn’t ideal. It felt like my head was trying to compact itself into one of those single serve milk containers. Once home I had to hibernate for a few days. I think my lungs were justified in their request for some r&r.
The main good time was that I was able to pick up all my cricket gear. And on return smuggle in ten bottles of wine and stock up on all the NZ goodies. I don’t think my colleagues were as excited about pineapple lumps as I was. But flag em. At least when I get them to try one of my countries traditional delicacies there isn’t a 50/50 chance they’ll have a hot date with the ceramic Dalton that evening.
Now a few average to poor things tainted my visit home.
I paid my beloved Colombo st flat a visit on the Monday morning. There is blimmin never any parks there anymore so I sneaked onto a not quite a park. I proceeded to fall asleep on the couch at Colombo. I got back to my car about 4 hours later to find a welcome home note from the city council on my car. However, I soon realized it was not actually a gift voucher for $60. I had knowingly been flirting with their broken yella lines.
I would like to argue it was the most legitimate illegal park I have ever seen. But I don’t think that would hold much weight as a defence.
Parking tickets really do annoy me. Especially when you are in the suburbs. There are no parking meters out there. What the heck is parkwise doing out in Newtown? Well I guess the question has really just answered itself.
Not wanting to loose too much face over it. I responded in my normal cool, calm and collected manner. I lifted my windscreen wiper, scrunched up the ticket and then proceeded to eat it.
I pretty much think that the whole parking warden situation in Wellington is shifty. It is about as shifty as being the mayor when your developer husband needs council approval to build out of spec apartments buildings all over town.
It doesn’t seam right that you can increase revenue by hiring more wardens to snap more people. What’s that about?
Anyway, I would rather my son told me he was a parking warden than a tow truck driver. That has to be the dirtiest underhanded profession there is. I would almost rather my kid came home and send he wanted to be French when he grew up. But not quite.
The worst thing that happened in NZ was the last thing that happened.
I got pulled aside at the old security baggage scan. I hadn’t shaved for a couple of days so I think I got picked up on Arab cam.
I had put Marmite in my carry on to try and more evenly distribute the 68 kg luggage I was craftily sneaking back to Shangers. I would not have classified Marmite as a liquid or a gel personally but they did. So my beloved yeasty spread was tossed into the bin.
My thoughts immediately drifted to my now spreadless Vogels that was in my checked baggage. But then I remembered the 1kg Sanitirum Crunchy Peanut Butter in my other bag.
The worst thing about it was the way this woman was incredibly patronizing about it. She could have been way more sensitive to my feelings during my time of loss. Hunting down Marmite in Shanghai is akin to searching for Moa in Fiordland.
Well good to know that if I have to return back to NZ one day there is no shortage of things to rant about.
I am now readjusting back into life here. It really is a bit noisy. I think I need to buy one of those CDs for my apartment that has all the NZ birds chirping in the trees.
So I had to fly with a sinus infection, which wasn’t ideal. It felt like my head was trying to compact itself into one of those single serve milk containers. Once home I had to hibernate for a few days. I think my lungs were justified in their request for some r&r.
The main good time was that I was able to pick up all my cricket gear. And on return smuggle in ten bottles of wine and stock up on all the NZ goodies. I don’t think my colleagues were as excited about pineapple lumps as I was. But flag em. At least when I get them to try one of my countries traditional delicacies there isn’t a 50/50 chance they’ll have a hot date with the ceramic Dalton that evening.
Now a few average to poor things tainted my visit home.
I paid my beloved Colombo st flat a visit on the Monday morning. There is blimmin never any parks there anymore so I sneaked onto a not quite a park. I proceeded to fall asleep on the couch at Colombo. I got back to my car about 4 hours later to find a welcome home note from the city council on my car. However, I soon realized it was not actually a gift voucher for $60. I had knowingly been flirting with their broken yella lines.
I would like to argue it was the most legitimate illegal park I have ever seen. But I don’t think that would hold much weight as a defence.
Parking tickets really do annoy me. Especially when you are in the suburbs. There are no parking meters out there. What the heck is parkwise doing out in Newtown? Well I guess the question has really just answered itself.
Not wanting to loose too much face over it. I responded in my normal cool, calm and collected manner. I lifted my windscreen wiper, scrunched up the ticket and then proceeded to eat it.
I pretty much think that the whole parking warden situation in Wellington is shifty. It is about as shifty as being the mayor when your developer husband needs council approval to build out of spec apartments buildings all over town.
It doesn’t seam right that you can increase revenue by hiring more wardens to snap more people. What’s that about?
Anyway, I would rather my son told me he was a parking warden than a tow truck driver. That has to be the dirtiest underhanded profession there is. I would almost rather my kid came home and send he wanted to be French when he grew up. But not quite.
The worst thing that happened in NZ was the last thing that happened.
I got pulled aside at the old security baggage scan. I hadn’t shaved for a couple of days so I think I got picked up on Arab cam.
I had put Marmite in my carry on to try and more evenly distribute the 68 kg luggage I was craftily sneaking back to Shangers. I would not have classified Marmite as a liquid or a gel personally but they did. So my beloved yeasty spread was tossed into the bin.
My thoughts immediately drifted to my now spreadless Vogels that was in my checked baggage. But then I remembered the 1kg Sanitirum Crunchy Peanut Butter in my other bag.
The worst thing about it was the way this woman was incredibly patronizing about it. She could have been way more sensitive to my feelings during my time of loss. Hunting down Marmite in Shanghai is akin to searching for Moa in Fiordland.
Well good to know that if I have to return back to NZ one day there is no shortage of things to rant about.
I am now readjusting back into life here. It really is a bit noisy. I think I need to buy one of those CDs for my apartment that has all the NZ birds chirping in the trees.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Medic!
My man flu decided to upgrade itself to a sinus infection. Basically, because my nose had been working overtime to try and get some breathable air into my lungs in Shanghai. This is a 24/7 job which my usually ornamental nose was unaccustomed to.
I can say with out a shadow of doubt this has been the most painful experience of my life. More so than the time a hockey ball broke my nose and more so than when my brother smashed me in the head with a cricket bat. The pain has been super ongoing intense. It feels much like someone it standing on your bindi spot with stiletto heals all day. It is unbelievable/ I gave it the kiwi male she’ll be right for 3 days but tonight as I went to bed it was like my pillow was a vice. I never get like this about pain. But this time it was different.
I think the drugs the pharmacist had given me were straight out of the 50c pick 'n' mix bag from the dairy next door.
Realizing sleep was not going to happen I had to figure out where the A and E clinic was in Shanghai. It happened to be ages away. Like Newtown to Porirua ages.
Taxi drivers here just don’t do maps. They are flipping useless. I assume other than sheer poverty this is the main reason people can’t leave China. Because they can’t read maps in order to find there way to the airport or dock. It is actually ridiculous. The driver is fine until you get within about 500m of your destination but then the driver becomes about as useful as Chinese family hand me downs.
Nonetheless I made it to the hospital. I would assume this was a very exclusive private hospital as the service was ace. It was probably related to it being 2am. But I went straight in to see a nurse in about 4 minutes including filling out the form time. The doctor was in about 3 minutes after her. It was like what a health system should be. If heaven needed hospitals they would be like this. They then brought all my drugs into me in a bag. With all the directions written out and they sent me on my merry way. I wanted to give the hospital staff my Shanghai 5 of the week.
I can say with out a shadow of doubt this has been the most painful experience of my life. More so than the time a hockey ball broke my nose and more so than when my brother smashed me in the head with a cricket bat. The pain has been super ongoing intense. It feels much like someone it standing on your bindi spot with stiletto heals all day. It is unbelievable/ I gave it the kiwi male she’ll be right for 3 days but tonight as I went to bed it was like my pillow was a vice. I never get like this about pain. But this time it was different.
I think the drugs the pharmacist had given me were straight out of the 50c pick 'n' mix bag from the dairy next door.
Realizing sleep was not going to happen I had to figure out where the A and E clinic was in Shanghai. It happened to be ages away. Like Newtown to Porirua ages.
Taxi drivers here just don’t do maps. They are flipping useless. I assume other than sheer poverty this is the main reason people can’t leave China. Because they can’t read maps in order to find there way to the airport or dock. It is actually ridiculous. The driver is fine until you get within about 500m of your destination but then the driver becomes about as useful as Chinese family hand me downs.
Nonetheless I made it to the hospital. I would assume this was a very exclusive private hospital as the service was ace. It was probably related to it being 2am. But I went straight in to see a nurse in about 4 minutes including filling out the form time. The doctor was in about 3 minutes after her. It was like what a health system should be. If heaven needed hospitals they would be like this. They then brought all my drugs into me in a bag. With all the directions written out and they sent me on my merry way. I wanted to give the hospital staff my Shanghai 5 of the week.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Making yourself at home
One thing I had explained to me the other day was that Shangahi used to be a terribly noisy place. There were so many horns honking you could barely hear yourself think. Here they blitz one road safety rule a month and after having a no horn month people got the idea that they didn't need to use them. Now, people flash their lights at you if you are driving as badly as they are.
So whilst it is a touch less honky, this had lead to about 30% of drivers driving with no lights on at night. So when you do cut them off they can make even more impact by turning their lights from zilch to full beam.one step forward two steps back.
Indicating is about as pointless as using the pink sky night weather prediction system in Shanghai.
I had a very pleasant lunch experience the other day. The novelty of taking the lau wai out for lunch has worn off for my colleagues. So I am now forced to battle alone for my lunch. I went to a little Japanese place over the bridge yesterday. When they realized it was a table for one they placed me at a table in front of a mirror to give me the feeling of company. I was most impressed, and he was actually surprisingly talkative.
Its not that it smells all the time here but when you stumble upon a real rip snorter it is hard to loose it. Shanghai is one of the few places where farting actually improves the quality of your life. By providing a temporary hiatus from the other smells. Although to be honest I have never been that capable of temporary. I would like to cite exhibit A.
I was visiting my girlfriend in 2000 over a long weekend in Summer. We had been driving around all morning the night after a big feed of Mexican.
When we pulled into the parking lot and she got out of the car. I seized the window of opportunity to quickly let one go. I then got out of the car and quickly closed the door on it. God forbid it should come with me.
We set off to the botanical gardens and to do a bit of shopping.
We arrived back at the car several hours later. We opened the doors and who should be in their to greet us? but my trusty fart, plus about 2 hours of baking on high in the Christchurch sun. I was horrified and a little bit proud and she was distraught, i thought she was going to cry. As much as I tried to blame the bananas we had just brought. The cunning lass figured out what was going on and was so unamused. Hence the method of using ones own ‘fragrances’ to create a pocket of freedom is a high risk strategy.
So whilst it is a touch less honky, this had lead to about 30% of drivers driving with no lights on at night. So when you do cut them off they can make even more impact by turning their lights from zilch to full beam.one step forward two steps back.
Indicating is about as pointless as using the pink sky night weather prediction system in Shanghai.
I had a very pleasant lunch experience the other day. The novelty of taking the lau wai out for lunch has worn off for my colleagues. So I am now forced to battle alone for my lunch. I went to a little Japanese place over the bridge yesterday. When they realized it was a table for one they placed me at a table in front of a mirror to give me the feeling of company. I was most impressed, and he was actually surprisingly talkative.
Its not that it smells all the time here but when you stumble upon a real rip snorter it is hard to loose it. Shanghai is one of the few places where farting actually improves the quality of your life. By providing a temporary hiatus from the other smells. Although to be honest I have never been that capable of temporary. I would like to cite exhibit A.
I was visiting my girlfriend in 2000 over a long weekend in Summer. We had been driving around all morning the night after a big feed of Mexican.
When we pulled into the parking lot and she got out of the car. I seized the window of opportunity to quickly let one go. I then got out of the car and quickly closed the door on it. God forbid it should come with me.
We set off to the botanical gardens and to do a bit of shopping.
We arrived back at the car several hours later. We opened the doors and who should be in their to greet us? but my trusty fart, plus about 2 hours of baking on high in the Christchurch sun. I was horrified and a little bit proud and she was distraught, i thought she was going to cry. As much as I tried to blame the bananas we had just brought. The cunning lass figured out what was going on and was so unamused. Hence the method of using ones own ‘fragrances’ to create a pocket of freedom is a high risk strategy.
Lost in Translation
The language barrier here is an absolute mission. Not only am I going to need to conquer Mandarin. But then I need to master the local dialect of Shanghainese. Which is slightly disheartening considering after nearly a month I have only doubled my original vocab of two phrases.
So inevitable things get lost in translation, namely anything that I say and even more so if I was trying to make a joke.
The communication misadventures go both ways though. Even if Beijing is commonly short ened to BJ. I just don’t think the greatest sporting event in the world should be referred to as the BJ Olympics. I am not quite sure how to broach this subject though.
I do quite like the fact that the Mandarin word for thank you is xie xie. Which is pronounced ‘sher sher’ actually sounds a bit like the bro town’ chur chur’. I more frequently use the later pronunciation and no ones seems to notice.
Interestingly chinesse word for um is pronounced Nigga. So people who are struggling to think of the right word just keep saying nigga nigga. It takes a bit of getting used to. But one has no choice because you hear this word being said all the time. I think it would be horrendously inappropriate but also quite comical to hear a nervous Chinese person deliver a speech in a 4th form speaking contest on the topic of the life of Martin Luther King.
I have a bit of a gross flu / cold at the moment. So,last night I was rehearsing how I was going to act out my symptoms to the pharmacists. I was on a 100% success rate after last week’s charade for in-grown hair. Either I nailed it, or the wily pharmacists found a way to offload some, passed its used-by-date hemorrhoids cream. Either way things are clearing up.
I got in to the chemist this morning and just as I was ready to launch into, first word, sounds like. She pulled out a English to Chinese medical dictionary. Which was obviously super useful but a bit of a let down. Unfortunately, she hadn’t heard of sinuses but she was all over the head ache option.
It was wising down with rain this morning and as I entered the shop I folded up my umbrella. When I went to get out my wallet I was a hand short. in tring to free a hand I made a rookie error, which the shop assistants thought was hilarious. No matter how desperate you are don’t put a wet umbrella between your thighs for safe keeping. It can take a long time to dry and is quite uncomfortable.
Speaking of umbrellas, rainy days here are dangerous affairs. Every bugger is about 5 foot high and once the brolly is up, the spikes are perfectly eye level for me. So you are only ever a gust away from losing half your captain cook brigade.
So inevitable things get lost in translation, namely anything that I say and even more so if I was trying to make a joke.
The communication misadventures go both ways though. Even if Beijing is commonly short ened to BJ. I just don’t think the greatest sporting event in the world should be referred to as the BJ Olympics. I am not quite sure how to broach this subject though.
I do quite like the fact that the Mandarin word for thank you is xie xie. Which is pronounced ‘sher sher’ actually sounds a bit like the bro town’ chur chur’. I more frequently use the later pronunciation and no ones seems to notice.
Interestingly chinesse word for um is pronounced Nigga. So people who are struggling to think of the right word just keep saying nigga nigga. It takes a bit of getting used to. But one has no choice because you hear this word being said all the time. I think it would be horrendously inappropriate but also quite comical to hear a nervous Chinese person deliver a speech in a 4th form speaking contest on the topic of the life of Martin Luther King.
I have a bit of a gross flu / cold at the moment. So,last night I was rehearsing how I was going to act out my symptoms to the pharmacists. I was on a 100% success rate after last week’s charade for in-grown hair. Either I nailed it, or the wily pharmacists found a way to offload some, passed its used-by-date hemorrhoids cream. Either way things are clearing up.
I got in to the chemist this morning and just as I was ready to launch into, first word, sounds like. She pulled out a English to Chinese medical dictionary. Which was obviously super useful but a bit of a let down. Unfortunately, she hadn’t heard of sinuses but she was all over the head ache option.
It was wising down with rain this morning and as I entered the shop I folded up my umbrella. When I went to get out my wallet I was a hand short. in tring to free a hand I made a rookie error, which the shop assistants thought was hilarious. No matter how desperate you are don’t put a wet umbrella between your thighs for safe keeping. It can take a long time to dry and is quite uncomfortable.
Speaking of umbrellas, rainy days here are dangerous affairs. Every bugger is about 5 foot high and once the brolly is up, the spikes are perfectly eye level for me. So you are only ever a gust away from losing half your captain cook brigade.
Monday, May 5, 2008
I have to get this off my chest
There is a little bit of unrest here at the moment towards us Lao Wai. On several occasions over the last couple of days people have called me a Lao Wai as i passed them in the streets. Which even though it is calling a spade a spade, it just doesn't seem right. Am I in the middle of a racist war? I ask myself.
I decided to raise this with one of my colleagues. Citing my brushes with animosity I said 'what is the deal, do you guys not like westerners at the moment?' she said 'no that is not true.' She then said 'dont worry about it. they probably thought you were French.'
Which makes me think, me and the Chinese will get along fine.
Those of you that know me well know that I have little bit of a disliking for the French. Mainly because it is easy and fun to dislike them. Its not a passionately violent wage war thing. Just good old plain passive aggressive.
For me I guess It started with their notable no show on D-day. Fueled further by their Nuclear testing in the south pacific and subsequent blowing up of the Rainbow Warrior, combined with their average to poor management of their colonies in South East Asia. Not to mention knocking the All Blacks out of the World cup, twice. Bribing kids into doing French at school by offering French toast once a term.I didn't even see a single sausage in 5 years of German. the list goes on.
They are potentially some nice ones, maybe, but by en large they are slightly harder to love. My Uncle once tried to tell me I had French blood in me. Which was like telling me I had leprosy. I wanted to go and give blood the next day just to try and get it out.
Okay, I got a bit carried away there, and there is love. But when you think about it, there are plenty of reasons that they, as a nation, are a bit of a blow-out.
There is, to be fair, other things that get to me more than the France dwellers. The thing that drives me most to distraction can be found at traffic lights and elevators. I was really hoping that this phenomenon would not exist in the east, but unfortunately, it is just as prevalent.
Here is how the situation plays out, in foyers and intersections around the world.
There are about 6 of you waiting there. The button has been pushed and the red stop man is staring at you or the white light has back-lit the arrow. As the six of you are patiently waiting. Then along comes number seven. No .7. He walks up and sees us standing there. He then assess the situation and then thinks to himself. – ‘why are all these people waiting here.’
This Nobel Prize candidate strengthens his claim by thinking – ‘They must not know about the button’ so he goes and pushes the already lit button. He then takes a triumphant step back as if to say ‘yup, that ought to do it’
What is the thinking here?, that the light is going to bow down to peer pressure and break into tears and apologetically change its cycle. Unless this person actually is E.T. I don't think he should be trying to claim his index finger has and kind of Jedi power.
If you think he annoys me. There is the odd occasion, when number 8 comes along, assess the situation and also pushes the button . Thinking ’ah, they must not know about the button’ and he triumphantly takes a step back. Instantly you see number 7 giving a condescending look and thinking to himself ‘dah, I already tried that’ . I never can figure out which one I want to punch in the pancreas first.
There is one other thing that has been annoying me. It is surfing the web from China. because every site assumes you are chinese. Google, blogger, Ikea they all convert to Mandarin. and they publish the english button in Chinese as well - awesome.
Do you feel my pain here people?
I decided to raise this with one of my colleagues. Citing my brushes with animosity I said 'what is the deal, do you guys not like westerners at the moment?' she said 'no that is not true.' She then said 'dont worry about it. they probably thought you were French.'
Which makes me think, me and the Chinese will get along fine.
Those of you that know me well know that I have little bit of a disliking for the French. Mainly because it is easy and fun to dislike them. Its not a passionately violent wage war thing. Just good old plain passive aggressive.
For me I guess It started with their notable no show on D-day. Fueled further by their Nuclear testing in the south pacific and subsequent blowing up of the Rainbow Warrior, combined with their average to poor management of their colonies in South East Asia. Not to mention knocking the All Blacks out of the World cup, twice. Bribing kids into doing French at school by offering French toast once a term.I didn't even see a single sausage in 5 years of German. the list goes on.
They are potentially some nice ones, maybe, but by en large they are slightly harder to love. My Uncle once tried to tell me I had French blood in me. Which was like telling me I had leprosy. I wanted to go and give blood the next day just to try and get it out.
Okay, I got a bit carried away there, and there is love. But when you think about it, there are plenty of reasons that they, as a nation, are a bit of a blow-out.
There is, to be fair, other things that get to me more than the France dwellers. The thing that drives me most to distraction can be found at traffic lights and elevators. I was really hoping that this phenomenon would not exist in the east, but unfortunately, it is just as prevalent.
Here is how the situation plays out, in foyers and intersections around the world.
There are about 6 of you waiting there. The button has been pushed and the red stop man is staring at you or the white light has back-lit the arrow. As the six of you are patiently waiting. Then along comes number seven. No .7. He walks up and sees us standing there. He then assess the situation and then thinks to himself. – ‘why are all these people waiting here.’
This Nobel Prize candidate strengthens his claim by thinking – ‘They must not know about the button’ so he goes and pushes the already lit button. He then takes a triumphant step back as if to say ‘yup, that ought to do it’
What is the thinking here?, that the light is going to bow down to peer pressure and break into tears and apologetically change its cycle. Unless this person actually is E.T. I don't think he should be trying to claim his index finger has and kind of Jedi power.
If you think he annoys me. There is the odd occasion, when number 8 comes along, assess the situation and also pushes the button . Thinking ’ah, they must not know about the button’ and he triumphantly takes a step back. Instantly you see number 7 giving a condescending look and thinking to himself ‘dah, I already tried that’ . I never can figure out which one I want to punch in the pancreas first.
There is one other thing that has been annoying me. It is surfing the web from China. because every site assumes you are chinese. Google, blogger, Ikea they all convert to Mandarin. and they publish the english button in Chinese as well - awesome.
Do you feel my pain here people?
long weekend
It has just been Labour weekend here in China. Last year it was 5 days, however this year it was cut down to a sneaky two-day holiday. They changed their mind and decided to spread the holidays out more evenly this year or something. They are pretty fluid with most of the laws here. Things can also change very quickly too. a few people went away, but I spent my time checking out markets and kitting out my new apartment (photos to come).
I finally got to do some laundry in my new abode. I had to hang it on my 22nd storey balcony. My pegs to shirt ratio was about 10 pegs per item. I wasn’t taking any chances.
Back home when you hang your wet washing on the line it needs to be out long enough to get dry, but in before it gets wet again. In Shangahi if you leave it on the line too long it goes all the way back to being dirty again. People hang their washing just about anywhere along the street. You sometimes can't tell if they stuff is on sale or just drying.
On Friday I went to this massive park, much like Central park, called Century park. It cost about 2 bucks to get in which exceeds the yearly entertainment budget of most Chinese. Nonetheless, there was about a million people there enjoying the greenery around the lake.
I also had my first photo-with-a-white-guy experience. This is where Chinese who are not from Shanghai, or who may have had minimal exposure to Westerners, get very excited about seeing a Lao Wai (Chinese word for foreigner).
So to some of these people, seeing me is basically like seeing the Yeti. They run up to you and get their friends to take pictures of them with the Lao Wai. It is a bit random.
On Saturday I hung out with some of the other Kiwis we have up here. We had a BBQ and drank 42 below while listening to Fly My Pretties. just perfect. I have chosen one incident from the evening which I will retell in real time.
I was sitting by the BBQ with by back to the burner. To encourage the BBQ the chef was using a little bit of accelerant. After the second dousing, a medium sized flame went up and a couple of large sparks flew off the grill.
I suddenly felt much warmer on my back. Suspiciously, I turned to him and said. ‘Hey mate, is my back on fire?’ He pointed and replied ‘na, man it’s on the ground’. Feeling increasingly warmer on my back I said’ Are you sure, i'm not on fire? To which he replied. ‘Oh, no sorry, actually, yes you are’. I turned my head and could see a flame going for it on the back of my shirt. I leapt to my feet and had my kit off quicker than a groom on his big night.
I had just brought the shirt that day and wasn't quite ready to give the formaldehyde a test run just yet. Luckily the black marks kind of work in with the pattern so no worries.
I found lots of markets over the weekend, and they are the best I have been to in Asia. So good times in general ,but also very exhausting. If only I had a dollar for every-time someone said 'you want watch sir, how about the DVD.' Then I could probably buy a couple of watches for every dozen propositions.
I finally got to do some laundry in my new abode. I had to hang it on my 22nd storey balcony. My pegs to shirt ratio was about 10 pegs per item. I wasn’t taking any chances.
Back home when you hang your wet washing on the line it needs to be out long enough to get dry, but in before it gets wet again. In Shangahi if you leave it on the line too long it goes all the way back to being dirty again. People hang their washing just about anywhere along the street. You sometimes can't tell if they stuff is on sale or just drying.
On Friday I went to this massive park, much like Central park, called Century park. It cost about 2 bucks to get in which exceeds the yearly entertainment budget of most Chinese. Nonetheless, there was about a million people there enjoying the greenery around the lake.
I also had my first photo-with-a-white-guy experience. This is where Chinese who are not from Shanghai, or who may have had minimal exposure to Westerners, get very excited about seeing a Lao Wai (Chinese word for foreigner).
So to some of these people, seeing me is basically like seeing the Yeti. They run up to you and get their friends to take pictures of them with the Lao Wai. It is a bit random.
On Saturday I hung out with some of the other Kiwis we have up here. We had a BBQ and drank 42 below while listening to Fly My Pretties. just perfect. I have chosen one incident from the evening which I will retell in real time.
I was sitting by the BBQ with by back to the burner. To encourage the BBQ the chef was using a little bit of accelerant. After the second dousing, a medium sized flame went up and a couple of large sparks flew off the grill.
I suddenly felt much warmer on my back. Suspiciously, I turned to him and said. ‘Hey mate, is my back on fire?’ He pointed and replied ‘na, man it’s on the ground’. Feeling increasingly warmer on my back I said’ Are you sure, i'm not on fire? To which he replied. ‘Oh, no sorry, actually, yes you are’. I turned my head and could see a flame going for it on the back of my shirt. I leapt to my feet and had my kit off quicker than a groom on his big night.
I had just brought the shirt that day and wasn't quite ready to give the formaldehyde a test run just yet. Luckily the black marks kind of work in with the pattern so no worries.
I found lots of markets over the weekend, and they are the best I have been to in Asia. So good times in general ,but also very exhausting. If only I had a dollar for every-time someone said 'you want watch sir, how about the DVD.' Then I could probably buy a couple of watches for every dozen propositions.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
