I swear I'm turning more chinese by the day.

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on saturday I touched a whore's fanny and got myself involved in the mafia.

both unwittingly,  and unwilling.  one was accidental.  

let's go back to friday.  friday is my day off.  not anymore.

'english salon!'  said my boss.

'english.  salon?'  said me.

now,  the word salon conjures up all sorts in my head.  good sorts.  cheryl tweedy beauty salon 'curls aloud' backcombed and nail polished type sorts.  

sadly,  english salon was no such thing.  english salon was on my day off and english salon was teaching yet another class about western restaurants.  english salon sucks,  and now english salon is a weekly event.  boo.

the best part about english salon was the fact that there was not enough cutlery to go round - so they PHOTOCOPIED a knife,  a fork and a spoon,  stuck the paper images to cardboard and cut out 50 sets.  ha!

but this means I am now working 6 days a week.  I am not happy.

but back to the news.

I got a text from my friend jiaxu on friday,  to say he was on his way to tangshan to see me.  I like visitors,  but I like some notice.  but anyway,  he arrived in tangshan,  and I was unprepared.  but that was fine.  an excuse to go see some of the bars that  merte and I have seen from afar.

so,  the first bar.  the first bar was quite funny.  like phoenix nights.  karaoke.  we had a beer and moved on to the second bar.

the second bar.  the second bar was also like phoenix nights.  more karaoke.  this time my arrival caused a bit more of excitement.  bowls of pine nuts were produced,  cigarettes were offered all round,  and beer was poured.  fun times.

someone came over to the table and was asking jiaxu were I was from.  (jiaxu is chinese).  much hilarity ensued from the scottish-ness,  and more beer was produced.  the next thing I knew,  I was being serenaded by a man singing 'auld lang syne' in chinese.  very very funny.

then the next thing I know,  the microphone's been thrust in my direction,  the woman behind the bar has put the strobe lights on,  and I'm singing a hi-nrg remix  version of 'into the groove' to the delight of everyone around.

J E S U S.

the man who sang 'auld lang syne' then flashed the biggest wad of cash I've ever seen in my life (it was probably worth like £50,  but it was a lot of paper),  told us that our drinks were his treat,  and that he'd meet us for lunch the next day at 1130am.  what.  the.  fuck.  but here,  if someone invites you for lunch then they pay for you to lunch - and I do not turn down a free lunch.

so,  the next day.  because it takes me an eon to get ready,  and because traffic in china is possibly the most horrific I have ever encountered,  we were late.  I was kinda shitting it because I didn't want to be rude,  but if I'd known what I know now I'd have properly been shitting it,  brown bullets down trouser legs and everything.  

so,  lunch.  lunch was a bit strange.  lunch was me and jiaxu,  the old karaoke singing man,  another old guy that had been in the bar and two ladies.  they all seemed nice.  none of them could speak any english,  so I settled back into my sit-and-say-nothing-and-watch routine.  aaah.

it was only then that I noticed the obscene amount of beer that was kicking about the table.  two crates of beer.  fair enough,  I thought.  the chinese like to drink.  and if it's free,  it suits me.

the food was bizzare.  sweet potato chips drizzled in syrup and sprinkled in hundreds and thousands.  boiled lychees cut into flowers.  prawn like shellfish that were impossible to shell with chopsticks.  if there is 70s style chinese food,  I think it might have been what I was served that day.

so the toasts began.  to me,  to my host,  to the ladies,  to tangshan,  to scotland.  between every mouthful of food a toast was called.  at one point my mother was toasted,  the toast being translated to me as being to 'a woman who must be very great and very strong to have birthed a man with such a kind face.'  by this point I was bolshy enough to ask jiaxu to tell everyone I wanted to toast my grandmother who is ill just now.  'they bless her and wish her health'.  awesome.

then I noticed that the cigarettes that the old man was literally flinging at me were the kind that are 1000RMB (£100) a packet - not my usual 50p numbers.  this was when I started getting slightly suspicious.  and completely shitfaced.

by this point we were halfway through the second crate of beer,  the old guy was still throwing fags at me and feeding me the shellfish that I was unable to shell myself.

the conversation seemed to take a serious turn,  so I looked at jiaxu with a puzzled look.

"triad."  he mouthed at me.

right at that moment I was being offered yet another £5 fag - and I dropped it on the floor.  I could feel the shit slipping out my asshole and my kneecaps being shot.  but luckily mister mafioso had a sense of humour,  laughed,  stamped on it,  ruffled my hair and gave me another one.  phew.

it was then that the tsingtao and the fact that I was having lunch with one of the biggest mobsters in the country hit me.  FUCKING.  HELL.

what a riot.

the food finished,  the beer finished first.  "we're going back to the bar now",  I was told.  "and he wants you to go to taiwan with him next week."

back to the karaoke bar.  I sat down at a table,  immediately had a beer poured for me and tried to get my head together.  it was busy and noisy.  this was at 3pm.  3 in the afternoon on a saturday.  muntered.

mister mafia nipped out,  and came back with a plastic bag full of ice-creams.  everyone in the bar cheered and got handed one.  mine had raisins in it.  raisins make me want to vomit,  but I ate it.  most of it.  I excused myself and flung half of it out the bathroom window.  I am praying that this has not and will never be noticed.  it could've been worse,  I could've got a pea or a sweetcorn icecream that the chinese are so fond of.

"he says at 26 you should have at least 6 mistresses." was what I was told next,  and suddenly a poor prostitute was beckoned to come sit beside me.  she was pouring me tea and beer and popping pine nuts in my mouth,  so I thought I'd ask her her name.  she looked shocked.  I can't remember what it was.  then the old guy grabbed both my hands,  shoved one up her skirt and one on her chest.  so in four hours I had lunched with the mob and groped a hooker.  not bad going.

"I think we should try to leave."  I whispered to jiaxu,  and he agreed.  we made up some story about me having to teach a class in a few hours time ("he says teaching is a very noble profession and it is very noble of you to go teach the rising suns instead of enjoying yourself.") and managed to escape.  but only after standing outside and having my picture taken with the whore and the head honcho.  a mistake maybe,  I feel.

then back to the apartment and straight to bed,  only to wake up four hours later with the most raging hangover and an urge for a KFC.  ugh.

what a busy day.

it's a special lady's birthday today!  happy birthday chuck x

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ooft.

my stomach's not been the best in china.  I've lost a fair bit of weight,  even with munching on all those boxes of orion pie.  I think it's to do with the stress of moving,  the lack of sleep,  and probably because the food at the school is pretty rancid.  being polite.

the last few days have been really bad.  I'm blaming the crab.  I've been running (in more ways than one) from my office back to my apartment every hour or so to use the toilet,  because I refuse to use the toilets in the school.  they're actually revolting,  the squat pans have no doors on the cubicles,  there are huge clear windows that look out onto classrooms meaning everyone can look in,  and one time I witnessed a cleaner mopping the floor - using 'water' from one of the pans.  really,  really fucking disgusting.

so,  as you do when you have an ailment - I've been playing it up to buggery.  yesterday I woke up at 7:55am by merte knocking on the door.  we start in the office at 8am.  I told her I wasn't feeling well - which,  to be fair I really wasn't - and that I'd get her in the office.  at 9am,  I was on coffee number 3,  cigarette number 5,  and chatting to people on msn.  when I finally managed to get to the office at 9:45 (still without showering,  I thought I would go for the full on tramp look for sympathy),  I found my boss and merte sitting by my desk,  looking concerned.  result.

my boss tried to convince me to go to the hospital,  but after seeing many many different chinese toilets in different states of disgustingness I really do not want to see what a ward looks like.  finally he calmed down,  but only after I'd agreed to let him go out shopping for me for some 'things',  and take me out for dinner that night for something I'd be able to eat.  score.

he came back with some weird powdered bean stuff which you add to hot water - which is actually quite tasty,  some 'sachima',  which is pretty much just chinese rice-crispy cakes - which are actually well tasty,  and some chinese herbal pills 'for the spleen and stomach;  poor digestion with nausea,  vomiting,  burping,  regurgitation,  stomach gurgling,  borborygummus (?),  distension in the middle warmer (??) and stomachaches' - they smell so verdant I'm not sure if I should gob them or crush them up and smoke them.

because I've been feeling so ill lately,  I left merte to plan the tuesday culture class lesson by herself.  big mistake.  she decided we'd teach one of her favourite short stories - 'the man from the south',  by roald dahl.

now,  'the man from the south' is a good short story.  I think it's okay.  I don't really think it's supposed to be a funny short story - it's about a boy who bets his little finger for a car,  and how he has his hand tied to a table and almost has it chopped off - I think it's more a 'tales of the unexpected weird type short story.  I really don't think it's especially suitable for a class of 16 year olds who have limited english and live in a country with a mafia of triads who are notorious for cutting fingers off,  but whatever.  it was merte's idea,  and merte thinks the story is proper hilarious.  a german thing maybe.

she got through her two classes of baffled teenagers,  and I did my first one.  by the time that had finished,  I was proper ill,  sweating and shaking and not feeling very well at all.  I was trying to hint to her to take my last class because I didn't feel so good,  but she didn't go for it.  sadly.  so,  no sweat.  or rather,  a lot of sweat.  the class arrived and I started to battle through.

now,  neither of us have to sit in on each others classes - we alternate between who takes the first two and the last two.  the last two classes are the better ones,  so we both get a chance to teach them every two weeks.  this was what our first barney had been about earlier in the day.  before we'd started,  we were sitting in the office,  and andy our boss asked us how the kids in these classes were.

"ah,  the last two classes - bravo!"  said merte "but the first two - not so.  he is very lucky,  he gets the good ones today.  but next week they are mine!"

"yes merte"  I said,  "I get the good ones today.  but you got them last week and you get them next week.  that's how it works."  

I always feel bad when she winds me up,  but sometimes it's just ridiculous - and all times,  it's when a boss is around.  when it's just me and her she's always whining about her computer not working,  saying it louder and louder until I sigh and help her. 

but anyway,  I would usually just sit in on one of her classes and go back to the office for the other one.  she always sits in on mine,  mainly to criticise me afterwards.  this time,  I sat in both her classes.  quietly,  at the back,  only speaking to me when she asked me what the name for these: "" was.  (an english teacher that doesn't know the name for quotation marks?  awesome.)

it came to halfway through my second class,  and I was feeling worse and worse,  sweating and shaking and trying to keep the kids under control - and I saw merte leave out the corner of my eye.  I'm thinking 'please god,  let her have gone to get andy or an ambulance or at least a glass of water',  but no.  she came in clutching her camera.  her fucking CAMERA.  or her 'photo' as she calls it.  (an english teacher that calls a camera a 'photo'?  awesome.)

so,  now the kids are all jumping about and posing,  flashing peace signs and not listening to anything I'm saying.  d i s r u p t i o n.  thanks,  merte.  not that I actually really gave a shit,  I felt too ill to care.  pretty fucking annoying and rude though.

so eventually we finished and they left,  apart from one of the rebel kids who stayed behind and started asking me if I a)  believed in freedom,  b)  wanted freedom,  c)  thought I had freedom in the UK and c)  if I thought china had freedom.  slightly hardcore at the best of times,  much too hardcore when you're dying of stomach failure.  when he wrote '1989.6.4' on the board and asked me if I knew the date,  I almost DIED.  I managed to usher him gently out the class and erase the date of the tian'anmen massacre just in time before andy showed up.  phew.

then out for pizza.  grand.

then today.  the last time in my proper classes,  I taught them the present simple tense ('I study!') and the present continuous tense ('I am studying!'),  and the subtle differences between them both.  eventually they got it,  and it was great.  they probably won't remember it,  but my plan for them tomorrow is to play them some music which uses both in the lyrics - 'I say a little prayer' by aretha franklin.  'I SAY a little prayer' - present simple tense.  perfect.

so I spent most of today in the office,  typing out lyrics,  deleting the verbs,  downloading videos and generally just going about my happy business of preparing for my class.  just me.  merte teaches a different class from a different book,  so she deals with her own lessons.  today was me,  my headphones and aretha.  awesome.

"may I see what it is you are doing?"  she said.

"sure."  I said.

so I showed her the video of the song,  and sang along to some of the words.

"no no no.  you are wrong."

and now we commence the barney for today.

"I'm sorry?"  I said

merte - "no no no.  you are wrong."

me - "I SAY a little prayer - I SAY is present simple.  while I'm COMBING my hair now - I AM COMBING.  present continuous.  I'm WONDERING what dress to wear now - I AM WONDERING.  PRESENT CONTINUOUS."

merte - "no no no.  you are wrong."

 

then she gave me a huge lecture on how 'I'm wondering' is not grammatically correct - "you cannot say this this way!  it is not in the dictionary!  you say 'I wonder'.  'I am wondering' is not grammatically correct,  and is uneducated.".  she's right,  with some verbs.  some verbs should not take the -ing ending.  but these things can change,  and do.  'love' being one of them.  thanks to mcdonalds and the fact that language is organic,  'I'm loving it' has become okay.  NOT wrong,  and certainly NOT uneducated.  I actually started to doubt myself,  but thankfully when I googled 'I'm wondering vs. I wonder',  I found out I was correct.

 

so I had a HUGE rant about how I a) am a native english speaker,  b)  studied this at university,  c)  lived in an english speaking country  and d) how language changes - people DO say 'I'm wondering...' all the fucking time because it is grammatically correct,  and has a very subtle difference in meaning to 'I wonder' that you possibly only get if you are a native english speaker.  STEVIE WONDER HAS A SONG CALLED 'I'M WONDERING' - this should be proof enough.

 

raging again.  she's just well fucked off that I've got good ideas to back up what I'm teaching my class - I taught them present simple and present continuous tenses last time,  so this is a good way to teach them the verbs being used.  I don't want them to understand every fucking word in the song or anything (another thing she said "they will not understand the text!  it is much too difficult!",  yet yesterday she was quite happy to give a class of kids who are one year older a 4 page short story about drinking martinis and betting for cadilliacs),  I just think it's useful for them to be able to see how we use different tenses seeing as that's what they're studying.

 

what's she planning for her class?  for her class which she has a textbook from which to teach from?  she has decided to teach them the names of birds.  birds in english.  birds which she doesn't know the names of in english.  english birds which have no relevance to the english textbook from which she is teaching english.  today she has had to ask me the names of 'magpies',  'sparows',  and 'swallows',  'robins',  'gulls' and 'pigeons'.  she got really arsey when she asked me the names of  birds and I didn't know them.  this should surely be an indicator of importance.  I am a native english speaker who has used english to go about my daily life in an english speaking country for more than 20 years.  the names of birds are not important to me because I am not a bird-watcher.  but using a classic song to give an insight into culture and grammar in beautiful harmony - that is ridiculous and uneducated.  what a rude,  rude woman.  now I am starting to doubt my entire plan of playing the song.

but then,  if the kids don't like aretha then there is really nothing I can do for them.

rant over.

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I had crab for lunch today.  it's not the easiest thing to eat with chopsticks,  especially when it's still in the shell.  I think it's given me the shits,  which serves me right for saying hello to my meal and giving it a voice before they cooked it.

beijing was fun.  I was supposed to get there for midday to meet Jessica to go shopping.  I woke up to a text from her at 11am - 'hi,  are you nearly here yet?'.  obviously I wasn't,  so after dragging my ass out of bed I started out on the quest to the capital.

tangshan bus/train station is not too far from my school,  but for some reason I decided I'd take the bus - mainly because I was just up and feeling lazy and a ticket is 10p.

this is where the hilarity started.

I'm used to people staring at me,  especially here where I've only ever seen one other westerner (that was in mcdonalds,  and I stared too).  I'm used to people giggling and whispering 'lǎowài' (alien) when they see me.  I hate it,  but I'm almost used to having my photo taken constantly.

at the bus-stop,  I got all of this from one rather camp and extremely excited young man.  after trying to speak to me,  and me saying 'wǒ bùnéng shuō hànyǔ' (I don't speak chinese - quite an ironic phrase to be saying in chinese) a lot of times,  he just cracked open his camera and the photoshoot began.  then,  giving his camera over to his friend,  he proceeded to pose around me - lots of thumbs-upping,  peace-signing and stroking of my arm hair.  I was close to screaming at him to fuck off,  but the bizzareness of the whole situation and the sheer joy it was giving to him and the other people at the bus stop softened me up slightly.

then,  thankfully the bus came.  saved by the 119!  not so,  because photoboy and his friend got on the bus too.  he'd seen me using my phone to text jessica,  and was miming at me to give him my number (sometimes not speaking the language is so useful for pleading pure ignorance about everything).  I was horrified when he got off the same stop as me,  showed me his train ticket to beijing,  and tried to get me to follow him.  luckily for me,  the bus that goes to beijing was outside the station - so I made a break for it.

the bus was uneventful,  apart from the guy next to me who kept farting.  but everything smells bad here,  so it didn't really make too much difference.

then beijing.  the bus drops me off at some random road which is quite near to beijing railway station,  so I thought I'd buy my train ticket while I was in the area.  might as well quickly sort out my return transportation.

'quickly'.  ha.

beijing central train station is HUGE.  properly big.  you get a crick in your neck if you try to look at the top of it,  even from a distance.  beijing west train station is even bigger.  I don't think I've seen it,  but then it's so big I must've done - my brain just probably couldn't process the amount of information that the image would have.

I love the woman at the information desk in beijing central train station.  both times I've been there,  it's been the same woman.  she sits behind a desk,  but not a glass partition - she's literally a foot away,  so you could touch her if you wanted to - not that you would.  she doesn't look at you,  ever - so you're never sure if it's okay to ask her a question.  when you finally do,  she still doesn't look at you,  but pushes a button on the desk and speaks into a microphone - which is connected to a speaker next to her head.  you get her voice in stereo - one side actually out her mouth,  the other side from the speaker.  genius.

this time when I asked her where I should go to get my ticket,  she rolled her eyes,  pushed the button on the desk - and pointed.  I could hear the click of the button through the speaker.

so I followed the direction of her finger,  and found myself at 'train ticket office'.  after a lot of confusion,  I figured out that 'train ticket office' is not the office where you go to buy train tickets - but the office you take your train ticket back to if it turns out to be wrong.  I was then pointed to the 'train tickets for the tianjin area' booth - only to find that they didn't sell tickets either.

now,  this is the best part about china - if you stand about and look confused enough for long enough,  someone will offer to help you.  my knight in shining polyester rocked up,  introduced himself as 'tiger',  and led me down to the ticket office that actually sells tickets.  what a dreamboat.

then off to dongsishitiao to meet jessica.  we checked into our hostel room (which had a fake wall along one side so they could put a window in,  looking out onto...a wall,  random),  went to the candy cafe ('hum sandwich - 25RMB'),  then went back to the room to drink cheap tins of lager and wait for the others.  by 9pm the others hadn't turned up,  so we headed out to sanlitun,  bumped into a few people,  then headed over to houhai to play table football in the manchester bar and drink 10RMB rum and cokes.  nice.

this is where things get a bit blurry.  we ended up back in sanlitun,  and back in bar blue - where,  again,  'YMCA' was played twice - back to back.  apparently by this point I kept telling people I was a 'walking boner',  and not to talk to me because they were giving me a 'raging stauner'.  eek.

and then back to the hostel.  saturday was a bit of a write off,  but it was fun to hang about and not really do anything until my train back to tangshan.  kinda gutted I had to leave,  but never mind.

then the four hour class today.  I was so nervous about sleeping in that I didn't nod off until 4am,  and woke up at 715am - that annoying situation when it's too late to get ready properly,  but not late enough to not bother getting ready at all.  when I got to my classroom they were already there,  sitting waiting for me.  they didn't even ask me how beijing was,  bastards.  I'm glad I didn't buy them presents now.

but luckily they had a reading exam which no-one told me about,  and I gave them 45 minutes worth of breaks in total,  so I only really saw them for an hour and a half.  they don't remember anything,  it is a nightmare.  ella gave me an orange,  which was nice of her - I didn't have the heart to tell her that I am terrified of pith.

I ♥ BJ!  and I ♥ my new tshirt!  (I also ♥ that by coincidence it's photo69 from my camera.)  it's not quite as good as jessica's 'take off your shiny tights' tshirt,  but they didn't have it in my size.  boo.

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i feel a bit guilty about that last post.

merte is currently sobbing in her room.  she's sobbing because her class is so shit.  she's saying that she's getting the blame for them being so shit - but I think that's slightly unlikely seeing as all the bosses admitted the class was shit before we met them.

anyway.

I had my class today.  two hours of them.  and,  I hate to admit it - but I'm starting to like them.

I tried to get them up and moving and talking and writing on the board and stuff,  and I think it works.  I know for a fact they didn't really know what I was talking about,  probably learned nothing and if they did they'll have forgotten about it by now,  but they're quite sweet and funny.  my boss andy and his girlfriend sherry came into my class for half an hour or so,  and I was really worried the kids would turn all shy and say nothing - but thankfully they came in while I'd given them a reading exam and didn't really stay that long.  sherry's really,  really nice - she stayed and became a sort-of classroom assistant,  helping the kids with chinese translations and explaining things to the ones that still haven't quite got hold of my accent.

I had them all doing a 'pick two words from the list and make a sentence game',  and they were enthralled by it.  my class is supposed to finish at 8:20pm - by 8:40 I'd packed all my stuff up and had to scream "ALRIGHT GUYS,  I LIKE YOU ALL AND EVERYTHING BUT CAN YOU PLEASE GO AWAY!  I'M GOING TO BEIJING EARLY TOMORROW MORNING AND I HAVE TO GO TO SLEEP!"

one of the girls had her hand up straight away "teacher!  will you bring me back a present?".  so,  I said I would.  I wish I hadn't,  if I get one a present I'll have to get them all presents.  24 of them!  it's not really the money I'm worried about,  tat is so mega-cheap here - but they're all 15/16 and I don't want to be patronizing.  if they were that taken in by such a shite game I should be okay though.  if anyone has any ideas,  let me know.

the one thing that I really cannot handle is the picture-taking.  during the break,  kids from the other class were hiding round the side of the door,  trying to take photos of me while I wasn't looking.  it's cute and everything,  but very wearing - especially when you're as spotty and as un-photogenic as I am at the moment.  gah.

and one of the kids asked me for my telephone number - not a chance.  I lied and said I didn't have a chinese mobile.  then I got asked for my QQ number,  which I still haven't set up.  QQ is like the chinese MSN,  and teachers are actively encouraged to have one to talk to their students.  that weirds me out slightly too much.  I ended up giving her my email,  then managed to take the piece of paper away without her realizing.  I like them all,  but not that much.

they all have amazing english names which they picked for themselves.  there's 'ribby',  'betty',  'smile' (who's SO sullen it's hilarious),  and my favourite (as well as my favourite (shhh,  don't tell anyone) student),  'dizzy'.

my middle name has caused all sorts of confusion here - because of the chinese tradition of family name first,  first name second they think that my first name is 'Martin'.  doesn't really bother me at all,  I think it's quite funny.  when David Han took me to the Bank of China to get my account sorted I noticed that the name on the account book is down as 'D. Martin.'  I pointed to my surname in my passport and said "eh,  that's actually my family name.",  and he said "really?  I just thought that was random letters.  like a security code or something."  ha.

but anyway,  last time I saw the children I asked them to write a short introduction to themselves.

at the end of dizzy's i's written "my favourite food is bread.  in all of people,  I am very fond of Martin,  he is a bright star in my heart.  I like Korea.  Because Korean stars are very handsome."

could.  have.  weeped.

god help them all on sunday when I have them for 4 hours solid.  I'm going to Beijing tomorrow and I really shouldn't because I haven't planned anything for the class,  and I won't get a chance to.

but,  as caela said,  I need to grow a pair and,  if all else fails,  just play hangman.

bathing flower!  like a vagina in a bathtub.

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I feel bad for saying it because she's 68,  but merte can be a right arsehole sometimes.

we had to give another demonstration class a few weeks ago,  but this time to our bosses.  I'd been working for a few weeks,  writing up lesson plans from a textbook they'd given me.  they wanted the demonstration class to be what we were going to teach our students on their first class.

no sweat.

the day before the demonstration class,  they gave me a different textbook and told me to work from that instead.  slightly pissed off.  trying to remain calm,  I put all my lesson plans into the bin,  and started again.  not much time to plan a lesson.

but still,  no sweat.

so,  present continuous tense.  an easy one,  but an essential one.  I'd cut up little cards with actions to hand out to my students - 'jump',  'read',  'listen'.  the plan was to get each student to do the action,  and ask everyone else what they were doing.  "he is hopping!".  easy.  present continuous tense.

the teachers came in (along with merte) and sat down,  and I handed out my cards.  it was at this point that merte started sniggering.

now I was pretty nervous - it was 8am,  so I couldn't really have my usual betablockers/beer combination before going into a class.  mainly because I'd woken up at 745,  but still.

I could feel my face beginning to get redder as I got angrier.

after that was over,  I started asking the teachers what they were doing later - "I am eating later!",  to show that you can also use present continuous to talk about definite actions that are going to happen in the future.

merte's hand shoots up.  "but you are wrong!"

by this point,  my face is scarlet.  "I'm sorry?",  I said.

"no no no,  you are wrong.  you cannot use it for this."

(I would like to point out here that merte always says I am wrong.  about everything.  from directions to chinese to how to work computers.  I am always wrong.  and not just wrong,  "no no no,  wrong.".  maybe I have some weird west coast paranoia happening,  but I'm sure she thinks because she is older that she is far wiser than me.)

I marched over to my bag,  brought out my big bumper book of grammar,  while practically screaming "OKAY MERTE,  YOU SAY I AM WRONG.  LET'S LOOK IT UP IN THE BOOK,  SHALL WE?  THE BOOK.  WHAT DOES THE BOOK SAY?" *flicking pages frantically* "OH THE BOOK SAYS PRESENT CONTINUOUS TENSE IS USED WHEN TALKING ABOUT ACTIONS HAPPENING NOW,  AND FOR DEFINITE PLANS IN THE FUTURE.  SO THE BOOK SAYS THAT IT IS YOU WHO IS WRONG MERTE,  AND IT IS ME WHO IS RIGHT.  THANK.  YOU."

end of lesson.

"well,  that was good."  says my boss andy "merte,  what did you think?"

"oh,  no comment!"  was her reply.  still sniggering.

by now my head had exploded in a david cronenberg style spectacular,  and my brains were dripping down the whiteboard.  not really.  but almost.  

my turn to listen to her lesson.

"now I am about to give you the vocabulary for the family members that you have."  she said in her thick german accent "can you tell me please - who goes with mother?"

please bear in mind that at this point she was supposed to be teaching the advanced classes.  advanced classes,  and she was teaching the word "father".  I think I blacked out with rage at this point,  I can't remember the rest of her lesson.  it probably wasn't that memorable anyway.

and andy didn't ask me my opinion at the end of it.  he knew better.

we got back to the office,  and I calmed down slightly.  I was sitting back at my computer when she leaned into me all confidential like,  and said "I give you some advice.  do not teach them this lesson which you taught earlier!  they will know it and it will bore them.".  I nearly spat coffee in her face.  my anger level went through the roof,  and I had to excuse myself before I backhanded her.

after sitting and shaking and smoking in my apartment for 15 minutes,  I managed to make it back to the office and not make eye-contact with her for the rest of the day.

back to today.  tuesday is the day of my two year-eleven classes.  the 'culture' classes.  I'd been told last week that today's culture class would be cancelled,  they had an exam.  then a couple of days ago I was asked what I was teaching them on tuesday.

"nothing",  I said,  face in a bag of banana chips "got exams."

of course,  it turned out that they'd had their exams already,  and I was supposed to teach them something.  great.

merte had been moaning for two weeks solid for someone to buy her a copy of 'east is east' on DVD - she wanted to show her two culture classes it in installments,  and it was agreed that I would do the same.  in an insane act of kindness,  I eventually downloaded it for her,  burned it to a disk and gave her it last night.  after multiple visits to get her to understand how to watch it on a DVD player (I was wrong you see.  she's not a spastic.) I managed to get away from her.

then this morning I see her on the way to the office.  "no no no,  we do not show this film to the students.  no.  it is not suitable."

great.  not even my idea,  but suddenly I'm partly to blame.

so,  back to andy's suggestion.  pick something from the box of national geographic DVDs.  thrilling.

merte decides on volcanoes.  "we do volcanoes.".  merte cannot say the word "volcanoes".  she says "vol-can-os",  not "vol-cane-oes".  I do "volcanoes",  merte do "vol-can-os".  this was the first thing that pissed me off.

merte - "what do you call this,  this melted rock?"

me - "lava? magma?"

merte - "no no no,  you are wrong.  rock,  I said rock."

me - "oh,  igneous rock?"

merte - "yes.  I give them this.  vocabulary."

now,  I'm sorry.  I know the term 'igneous rock' from 1st year geography.  I think today is maybe the first time I have used it since 1st year geography.  I wish I didn't know the term 'igneous rock' - it's taking up space which could be used for something more useful.  but there you go.

now I'm more pissed off.

I tried explaining to her that we were here to teach english.  english.  not geography or geology in english,  but the english language.  lovely,  wonderful english language that you use when you want to buy sausage rolls and oval bites.  not boring,  rubbish english language that you use to go on a field trip up mount vesuvius.

of course,  I was wrong.  "no no no,  they must know it.  it is in the documentary."

"yes merte,  and it is explained in the documentary.  that's what documentaries are.  you watch them when you're bored,  learn something,  it ends and you forget it.  that's how it works."

"no no no,  you are wrong!  I teach it,  you do as you like."

now I'm really pissed off.  

"merte,  did you know these words?  no.  you had to ask me.  a lot of native english speakers will not know these words.  they are not important,  there is no need for them to learn this unless they are going to go and study geology - which,  if they do,  they will learn then."

"no no no."

fine.  I planned my own lesson based on idioms or slang sayings that were related to natural disaster - people erupting with laughter,  someone blowing their top,  ground-breaking news.  all that shit.  useful shit that gets used on a daily basis on tv and in speech and in the newspapers.  not igneous rock shit that gets used on fucking field-trips.

I'm typing away,  quite content that my plan is far more useful than hers,  and the next thing I notice is that she's behind me,  reading what I am typing.

"ah,  this is good.  we do this too."

so she fucking stole my lesson plan ideas!  I would have been happy to share them with her if she'd listened to me in the first place,  but unfortunately I was wrong.  I'd have been happier to share them with her if she ever had some good ideas of her own,  but sadly that is too much to ask for.

and then,  to make it worse - when David Han asked us what we were going to be teaching,  she jumped in and said "we have had a very good idea,  we teach them some uneducated sayings that are used to do with vol-can-os."  we?  we!  WE?!  and I'm sorry,  but slang does not equal uneducated.  that is ridiculously snotty.

mega-mega pissed off.  more than pissed off.  blowing my top and erupting with rage.

and of course,  when I finally got to my first class,  the room didn't even have a DVD player to show the documentary - so I had to stand and talk absolute shite about blizzards and earthquakes (I am so sick of hearing that there was an earthquake in tangshan.  seriously.) and sandstorms and floods and tsunamis and monsoons and the rest of it.

the second class I couldn't be fucked talking to,  I just gave them a 10 minute "blow your top - you're angry.  erupt with laughter - happy.  film?",  shoved the DVD in and left them to it.

merte's comments?  "I think your first class was much better."

oh fuck off.

snake gall refreshing shampoo!  I don't know what that is.  I can guess though.  refreshing!

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today has been pretty nightmarish.  completely nightmarish,  really.

I didn't really get any sleep last night after a foray back into the magical mythical world of msn,  where a string of people that I was overjoyed to talk to kept popping up.  by the time 5am came,  there was no point in sleeping to get up at 6.

I had my first proper language classes.  I thought I was getting the foundation level,  so I was geared up for dealing with the dense.  but somehow,  I have been promoted to head esl teacher without ever asking/wanting/being told - and I'm taking the advanced class.

I wasn't prepared for quite how dense they would be.  I feel bad for saying 'dense' - they're kids,  they're not stupid,  and their english is better than my chinese - but seriously.  the words 'uncoordinated' and ''glaikit' come to mind.

24 kids.  21 girls,  3 boys.  not a good combination.  the boys sit about with bumfluff facial hair,  thinking they're like snoopdog - surrounded by all the beautiful teenage talented totty the school has to offer.

ha.

none of them understood my accent,  three of them refused to do any work (fuck them,  I can't work miracles,  and even if I could - I can't be fagged),  and while I was trying to keep a vain in my forehead from rupturing,  one of the girls said "teacher!  can I take a photo of you?".  I was tempted to get her by the hair and scream "PEOPLE PAY FOR THIS FACE,  BITCH",  but I didn't.  possibly the longest two hours of my life.  and there's a repeat on thursday!  oh,  and a quadruple period marathon on sunday morning,  8am - midday.  seriously.

but still,  not everything was shit.  today was payday.

moneymoneymoney!   MONEY!

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