Blog 13 (?)
I am experiencing technical difficulties and so most of the pictures mentioned in the blog, aren't actually there. Hang on in there and they'll be up as soon as internet connections and speed allow.
First it would seem that I need to apologise. Firstly for the lack of blog for the past couple of days and secondly, I appear to have accidentally misused an apostrophe with the possessive 'its' in an earlier blog (thank you, David, for letting me know). The first I can put down to travelling and getting drunk, the second, well, I can only flay myself and humble my person and errant ways before, what I hope is, your generous forgiveness.
So what's been going on? Well, back on Saturday 21st, another day of unremarkable training was punctuated by the giving of a water melon and some lotus seeds by a few of the female CPs
(pictured). Now I'm not sure how things go in rural China but I have the idea that this is some sort of 'come on' and the one melon and several lotus flowers (as can be seen) is an allegorical reference to something or other. Luckily I managed to get away with just a brief photo session and a nibble at one of the flower seeds (no euphemism, there).
The evening ended up being one of far more interest than the day as we were told, by the Chinese part of the group, that we were off to a special street where we could eat anything. After two weeks of noodles, intestines and chicken gristle, the westerners in the group were obviously delighted. Only one problem - when Winnie and Piao said we could eat anything, they were going along the lines of Henry Ford and his 'any colour as long as it's black'. The resultant special street did serve a great variety of food, but it was just the food which was a speciality of the local area.
The fish head seemed to go down very well on a neighbouring table and we got stuck into pig ligaments in crushed cumin seed. The total effect was too much for Nick (local boss teacher) to take so he upped and got some flat bread from a local stall (pictured) at a mere 2 RMB (12p) a pop.
A further highlight to the meal was the entertainment. The street is apparently famed for the local musicians who serenade diners while they nibble and crunch away at their victuals, and they all seemed to come out in force when the pale-faces arrived. I should say that I use the term 'musician' lightly. In actual fact, it was a group of randoms who plucked away with little proficiency at guitars and more local types of instrument, often accompanied by a tin-whistle player. Took me back to a Christmas back in the mid-80s when I was given a tin whistle. Oh, how they were the days! Anyway, they were terribly keen to play for us and at one point our table was surrounded by four different groups vying for our trade, which was actually non-existent. Luckily some of the local Chinese punters paid for the service so we got to hear some music anyway. Lots of it. At very close range. At one point there were three different groups playing three different songs very loudly within a five metre radius;
one more instrument and it would've become white noise, I'm sure. I wanted to get a picture but you had to be awfully careful lest they see you taking a shot and demand money or, even worse, start playing music. So the shot you see is one of secret taking and rather than me artistically framing the chopsticks, they just happened to be caught by the camera when taking the shot.
The best touting musician was a fellow in a cloth cap and 30s-style jazz get up, for a get up it was. He was clutching a tenor sax and came to our table shouting "Yankee go home; I number one" He repeated this mantra several times, with only minor alterations, cleverly focusing in on the only American in the group. At first we thought it was a curious anti-sales pitch, but later we pieced together his shouted
phrases to comprehend that he thought he was the best jazz musician around, so there was no need for Americans to come and play jazz in Wuhan. Fortunately for Ellen (the American), she doesn't play jazz sax.
There're also a couple of outdoor shots. One you can see is of a fruit vendor selling water melons... I think you get the idea of Wuhan.
Following this raucous evening was the local bar on Sunday. On Sunday afternoons the local bar (the one with the cheap bourbons) has an English corner and we were invited along. Noting too remarkable, just the young regulars getting together and only speaking English together for an hour. Quite pleasant, really. There was one young chap who'd spent three
weeks in Birmingham at the university. Seemed he had a horrible time. No one spoke to him, the university (in the summer) was all closed down except for his classes and everything was very expensive. He said the highlight was evading the ticket inspector on the train - a trick he managed by hiding in the toilet. Smart lad. Not keen on going back. As for me, I've never been to Birmingham so I couldn't say, but I don't plan on going there anytime soon myself.
As the evening and he drinks continued, the bar owner ('Alice') showed Simon and me an amusing drinking game involving dice and shakers. Lots of guessing, bluffing and calling people liars. No idea what it's called but you can see a shot of the game 'in action' for the camera. One of the best parts was I learnt how to count to 8 (oooh!) in Chinese and also "You're lying" ('bo-shyan-shin'). This new vocabulary is sure to be handy in my future dealings with the local people. The evening finished with a 290 RMB bill (20 pounds) - a high price but worth numerous beers, bourbons and a pizza (without fish head) which was ordered in on the telephone. Yes, these are the confessions of one of life's high rollers...
Tomorrow, hear how I spent 3 pounds on an entrance ticket for a soon to be disclosed location . Bet you can hardly wait.
I am experiencing technical difficulties and so most of the pictures mentioned in the blog, aren't actually there. Hang on in there and they'll be up as soon as internet connections and speed allow.
First it would seem that I need to apologise. Firstly for the lack of blog for the past couple of days and secondly, I appear to have accidentally misused an apostrophe with the possessive 'its' in an earlier blog (thank you, David, for letting me know). The first I can put down to travelling and getting drunk, the second, well, I can only flay myself and humble my person and errant ways before, what I hope is, your generous forgiveness.
So what's been going on? Well, back on Saturday 21st, another day of unremarkable training was punctuated by the giving of a water melon and some lotus seeds by a few of the female CPs
(pictured). Now I'm not sure how things go in rural China but I have the idea that this is some sort of 'come on' and the one melon and several lotus flowers (as can be seen) is an allegorical reference to something or other. Luckily I managed to get away with just a brief photo session and a nibble at one of the flower seeds (no euphemism, there).The evening ended up being one of far more interest than the day as we were told, by the Chinese part of the group, that we were off to a special street where we could eat anything. After two weeks of noodles, intestines and chicken gristle, the westerners in the group were obviously delighted. Only one problem - when Winnie and Piao said we could eat anything, they were going along the lines of Henry Ford and his 'any colour as long as it's black'. The resultant special street did serve a great variety of food, but it was just the food which was a speciality of the local area.
The fish head seemed to go down very well on a neighbouring table and we got stuck into pig ligaments in crushed cumin seed. The total effect was too much for Nick (local boss teacher) to take so he upped and got some flat bread from a local stall (pictured) at a mere 2 RMB (12p) a pop.A further highlight to the meal was the entertainment. The street is apparently famed for the local musicians who serenade diners while they nibble and crunch away at their victuals, and they all seemed to come out in force when the pale-faces arrived. I should say that I use the term 'musician' lightly. In actual fact, it was a group of randoms who plucked away with little proficiency at guitars and more local types of instrument, often accompanied by a tin-whistle player. Took me back to a Christmas back in the mid-80s when I was given a tin whistle. Oh, how they were the days! Anyway, they were terribly keen to play for us and at one point our table was surrounded by four different groups vying for our trade, which was actually non-existent. Luckily some of the local Chinese punters paid for the service so we got to hear some music anyway. Lots of it. At very close range. At one point there were three different groups playing three different songs very loudly within a five metre radius;
one more instrument and it would've become white noise, I'm sure. I wanted to get a picture but you had to be awfully careful lest they see you taking a shot and demand money or, even worse, start playing music. So the shot you see is one of secret taking and rather than me artistically framing the chopsticks, they just happened to be caught by the camera when taking the shot.The best touting musician was a fellow in a cloth cap and 30s-style jazz get up, for a get up it was. He was clutching a tenor sax and came to our table shouting "Yankee go home; I number one" He repeated this mantra several times, with only minor alterations, cleverly focusing in on the only American in the group. At first we thought it was a curious anti-sales pitch, but later we pieced together his shouted
phrases to comprehend that he thought he was the best jazz musician around, so there was no need for Americans to come and play jazz in Wuhan. Fortunately for Ellen (the American), she doesn't play jazz sax.There're also a couple of outdoor shots. One you can see is of a fruit vendor selling water melons... I think you get the idea of Wuhan.
Following this raucous evening was the local bar on Sunday. On Sunday afternoons the local bar (the one with the cheap bourbons) has an English corner and we were invited along. Noting too remarkable, just the young regulars getting together and only speaking English together for an hour. Quite pleasant, really. There was one young chap who'd spent three
weeks in Birmingham at the university. Seemed he had a horrible time. No one spoke to him, the university (in the summer) was all closed down except for his classes and everything was very expensive. He said the highlight was evading the ticket inspector on the train - a trick he managed by hiding in the toilet. Smart lad. Not keen on going back. As for me, I've never been to Birmingham so I couldn't say, but I don't plan on going there anytime soon myself.As the evening and he drinks continued, the bar owner ('Alice') showed Simon and me an amusing drinking game involving dice and shakers. Lots of guessing, bluffing and calling people liars. No idea what it's called but you can see a shot of the game 'in action' for the camera. One of the best parts was I learnt how to count to 8 (oooh!) in Chinese and also "You're lying" ('bo-shyan-shin'). This new vocabulary is sure to be handy in my future dealings with the local people. The evening finished with a 290 RMB bill (20 pounds) - a high price but worth numerous beers, bourbons and a pizza (without fish head) which was ordered in on the telephone. Yes, these are the confessions of one of life's high rollers...
Tomorrow, hear how I spent 3 pounds on an entrance ticket for a soon to be disclosed location . Bet you can hardly wait.
