Technically, as a foreigner here on a student visa, I am forbidden on pain of expulsion from the glorious PRC to undertake any form of paid work whatsoever. It seems to Communist minds this would dangerously confuse categories of foreigner, and threaten stability or something equally drastic.

However, this does not stop more or less everyone I meet trying to offer me work. I remember as a callow 18 year old I was a little shocked to be offered a job on entrance into a bar in Xian (teaching English, not anything else), merely as it was assumed that as I was a Westerner, of course I could speak English. On our somewhat abortive visit to Dalian's theme park, we encountered what seemed to be much of the expat population, employed as exotic dancers and stunt riders as to the Chinese mind there is nothing more incredible than Marilyn Monroe lookalikes on motorbikes... Other friends have been headhunted as models, acted in commercials, paid to attend events (as if Westerners are going, clearly it is a popular event), as well as the ever increasing demand for English teachers of all descriptions.

Having turned down most offers thus far, last week I was persuaded into accepting a one off teaching/conversational job along with a few friends, on the condition that it would  not really be teaching, more just casually answering a few questions to help learners with their conversational English. I was not entirely reassured, as in my experience, 'casual' would normally turn out to mean 'flung in front of a class of 80 overly enthusiastic students baying for blood, English or both'. However, it turned out, 'casual' this time really did mean casual. We were ushered inside, had tea forced upon us, and given sacrifical bright red waistcoats and then ushered out into a playground where we saw assembled a mob of grandparents and children.

The mob descended with eager cries of 'You come from what country?' and 'Your name is what?' and I quickly found myself encircled by a gang of possessive grandparents who glared and edged out the competition. As a result, I spent the next half a hour first answering questions in English, and then repeating myself in Chinese (as they did not really speak English), listening to answers in Chinese and then translating them back to English, which made for a slow conversation where I did three quarters of the work, but an interesting one all the same. I was regaled with tales of ex-air traffic controllers, Korean war veterans and a man who insisted on showing me every single one of his pictures of his recent trip to Europe, and explaining how he wrote an essay in honour of the previous Englishwoman (I think this may have been Ellen, who he met the previous week) he had met.

Definitely the easiest way I have earnt 10 pounds in some time. I shall volunteer for this again.

PS To any Communists or policemen of the PRC who happen to be reading this: the 10 pounds was of course a gift, and I am really not worth the time to chase down, honest...

Of Breadmakers, Central Heating and Exams

Right now, I am basking in the warmth of a heated flat which smells of fresh bread and jiaozi. The Communists have relented on the central heating, despite the current lack of Siberian winds and ensuing high temperatures, and my mid term examinations are finally over. Basically, life is pretty good all of a sudden. My host mother is quite welcome to compare the untidiness of my room to the Guomindang abandoning the mainland for Taiwan (and leaving the mainland all in a mess and not bothering to clean it up again) if this makes her happy, as she also just fed me fresh, warm and above all non sweet bread.

Pictures of Warmer Times

 The touristy bit. Shortly after this bit, it was kind of slum like. But in a pleasant way.

 Chongqing doing it's best not to fall into the Yangtze.

 Picturesque and highly touristy old village in Chongqing. However, as soon as you escaped the main thoroughfare, it all fell silent save for the clicking of mah jong tiles, and got very old and very twisty, and very villagey for a place in the centre of a city of many million people.

 Token picture of me, Zhao Ying and another student, taken in Chengdu.

 Sichuanese countryside. I want a motorbike...

 

Chongqing by night

Cold

The current defining feeling of my experience of China is cold. Just to state, it is not really cold yet. Although the winds sweeping in from Siberia are not precisely warm, it is still around 10 degrees at midday and the temperature has some way to fall yet, although given it was 20 degrees last Friday, that means it should be about minus 5 this time next week at the current rate of progress....

No, the problem is the Chinese government who control the heating of all buildings they own (ie more or less all of them. Most Chinese people to my knowledge lease their houses off the government, on 70 yr leases. No-one knows what happens when the 70 year lease expires - the PRC isn't old enough for that to have happened to anyone yet). As a result, winter is officially declared in mid-November. And until then, come snow, hail, or Siberian winds, we freeze.

I am cold. So, so cold.

PS My ayi has already declared that it is going to be the harshest winter in many years, and is threatening to buy me an electric blanket and thermals. I'm nearly cold enough to accept.

Liu Xiaobo and my host father

The main result of the PRC getting themselves all worked up about Liu Xiaobo's Nobel peace prize is that prior to the award and the PRC attempting to block all news of it, no-one knew who Liu Xiaobo was. Now, they all know... Ah, the wonders of attempted censorship.

As a response, it was quite impressively paranoid. Briefly, all news websites were blocked, CNN went down, and reportedly, even text messages with his name in were being censored. I was sitting in a net bar shortly afterwards, and all the power abruptly went in a shower of sparks. Of course, this could just have been dodgy electrics, but I would not put it past them...

I had in fact just before leaving for Sichuan had a conversation with my host father about Nobel prizes, and he had explained/mimed that China really wanted one, and ironically, the only one they'd ever got was awarded to the Dalai Lama. I explained that Liu Xiaobo had just been nominated, and he shrugged and said he'd never heard of the guy.

Coming back from Sichuan, after helping me with my  rucksack up the stairs, almost the first thing he said was 'Liu Xiaobo got the prize then', to which I replied 'I know, but how the hell do you know?', to which he just grinned, and chuckled at me. He just finds it hilarious that China's two Nobels now belong to the Dalai Lama, and Liu Xiaobo.

He's definitely not a normal Chinese guy. However, at this point, my ayi returned, and all discussion of politics was briefly suspended.


PS I did later find out he knew: I think it is as his daughter is currently living in Taiwan, though there was a longer, more complicated explanation to do with leaders, outside-country-people and the internet, which I did not entirely understand.

Ankh-Morpork

I think I may just have spent a week in Ankh-Morpork. Given that in common with Ankh-Morpork, Chongqing is perched precipitously above a sludge-filled river (the Yangtze, currently yellower than the Yellow River), on a set of mountains it appears to be in constant danger of falling off, is built largely on top of itself, stinks, is full of picturesque oddities, and is ruled by a selection of criminal gangs and the Communist Party, I think the comparison stands.

It is also full of motorbikes, the smell of chilli and Chinese people, which is perhaps less Pratchett, but no less endearing. In short, I really took to Chongqing. It had all the rough edges and friendliness I associate with the west of China, and miss in the more developed east.

It did take me a few days to recover from arrival... Post three days on a train, including a mere 8 hours standing (which I spent most of watching an Indian soap subtitled in Chinese whilst attempting to talk to a Korean girl, which proved a few too many languages), I arrived in Chongqing at about 7pm. I promptly found myself more or less kidnapped by motorbike and dropped in Chongqing's highly atmospheric stilt house slums, to discover the hostel I wanted to stay in no longer existed, and the motorbike man had vanished... Sadly, every other hostel in town proved to be full, which meant in desperation I was forced to call Liquorice, the student I was supposed to be visiting. I wasn't really that confident of success, as Liquorice is a Chinese university student, who lives in a dorm of 6 other guys, with guards on the dormitory block gates, just to make sure they can't sneak girls in, and especially not dubious foreign girls...

Thankfully Liquorice turned out to be a hosting a mini Class 16 reunion. Class 16 were the kind of class every teacher dreams of - intelligent, obediently cheeky and enthusiastic (although they did insist on bowing every time I walked into class which freaked me out a little). As a result, for the mere price of having to sing karaoke to my ex-students, as they refused to believe my claim that when I sing, somewhere a small bird dies, I was able to crash with one of the girls, and was saved from sleeping rough on the streets of Chongqing. They did also insist on introducing me to San Guo, a kind of Chinese version of the card game Magic, which left me feeling outgeeked and insufficiently Chinese very very fast....

After this somewhat dramatic beginning, Chongqing passed in a whirl of hotpot, neon lights, beer, ferries and occasional duck intestines. I did briefly escape to the relative serenity, sanity and cleanliness of nearby Chengdu to visit Zhao Ying, who braved the wrath of her own dormitory guards to put me up for two nights, and singlehandedly attempted to remedy my lack of knowledge of ancient Chinese. She is just so very determined, and so very intelligent, and makes me all optimistic.

I am now back in Dalian - further updates to follow, and hopefully pictures, once I have finished attempting to reassure my ayi that I am not likely to be thrown out of Dalian University for insufficiently revising for this morning's dictation.