It's Saturday early in the morning and I wake long before the alarm goes off. Lately, I get up sometime between 6 and 7am and go to the gym across the road and exercise for 2 or so hours. But I can't do that today, because I have to work.
I changed jobs a few months ago, and work now at a language training school in downtown Guiyang and my working week is Thursday to Sunday. I will post another time about it.
Our timetable has changed, due to the short Dragon Boat Festival vacation. This week I work reduced hours and get Sunday off. Public schools closed for two days, but those days are not going to be missed, they just have been moved to other days, like this Sunday for example. Many students have left the city which results in many classes being cancelled, and therefore reduced hours for me and my colleagues.
Even though my first class is at 2.10pm today, I have to be at work at 9am. Don't ask why. It is pointless, but that's what my contract says (not that it is pointless, I wish it said that). Well, my 2.10pm and my 4.40pm classes have been cancelled and I've got only one half an hour class at 4pm, with a 3 year old boy, the son of my director of studies. That little bugger refuses to follow me into the classroom and it takes a lot of effort of four of us to get him into the room. I try to trick him with a lion drawing and tell him that if he follows me, he'll get to paint it, and it seems to work. As soon as the little bugger is in the classroom, my colleagues shut the door, so he can't escape. This operation has taken us ten minutes. Twenty minutes remain to draw the lion. He decides that he likes an elephant better and draws that.
What have I been doing all day? I worked on a translation, talked to my colleagues, went on an extensive lunch break, planned my lessons for next week, etc.
Finally, it's 4.30pm and I'm free to go home.
Three hours later, I stand at the foyer of the Guiyang Grand Theatre and wait for my friend Yi. We come here every Saturday evening to watch classical concerts. While I'm waiting for her, I listen to the chanting of the Miao Minority. They perform in the foyer for roughly 20 minutes, before their show and our concert start. There is a second hall in the theatre, in which they perform the Colourful Guizhou show five times a week. (see appropriate post).
Tonight it's Puccini potpourri night. I wish they played a full opera from the beginning to the end and not pieces from various plays. There are two singers going on and off stage and there's a few minutes break between the pieces for the audience to applaud. Because of this, the audience is very noisy tonight and we can't really enjoy the show. Guiyang audience is not really famous for their behaviour when it comes to viewing a classical concert, and tonight is one of the worst nights ever.
They talk, they use their mobiles, they take photographs (even though the use of mobile devices is strictly forbidden), they applaud too early, eat and drink, cough and sneeze, answer calls, some have at least the decency to stand up and leave the hall, which disturbs the other viewers, etc. I have the urge to eat popcorn. I wish I had a bucket full of it. That's how I feel.
After the concert, I bring Yi to her car, hug her goodbye and walk back to the theatre to wait for my percussionist friend Jerry and go as always to a nearby restaurant. There he has something to eat and I have a big glass of German beer, Erdinger Weissbier, dark.
An hour or so later, around 11pm, we walk back to the theatre. He wants to go to his girlfriend's, and I don't really want to go home, since I don't have to work on Sunday. As we reach the theatre, we see the Spaniards Victor, the timpani player and his wife Alba coming down the stairs. We have a little chat and they ask me to go to 'Uptown' with them if I want. I hate that place, but I agree, since I have wanted to meet a guy called Jack in order to link our blogs and sites. We get on our scooters and drive a few minutes across downtown.
When we get inside, I spot my old housemate and go to him. It's surprisingly quiet for a Saturday night, but I'm told that it was busier earlier on and people moved to the various clubs in town. Jack has left a few minutes before I arrived. Damn!
I receive a text from Tami, a Kazakh lady, who needs some foreigners for a promotion for a club opening later this month. We were meant to meet a few days ago, but we kept postponing it. I ask her where she is and she tells me she's in the 'Sky Bar and Lounge'. I tell my former housemate that I have to leave and he asks whether he can come with me. Yes, he can. We jump onto my scooter and drive down some roads, into the now rainy night. We arrive and park in front of the building. The club is situated on the 41st floor and has a spectacular view over the city. The ride with the lift seems to take an eternity and when we finally arrive we first walk to the cloakroom and then into the club. There is a massive screen above the DJs showing a football match. My former housemate has a seat on one of the sofas directly opposite the screen, and the five or six Chinese men sitting at the table, start immediately a conversation with us. They bring out some beers, whisky and champaign, and fill in some glasses for us. Ganbei, they shout, and the champaign is downed at once. I tell my mate that I need to go to the loo and leave him with the locals. When I'm back, I see him drinking whisky with them. I ask him if he wants to hit the dance floor, but he prefers to watch the match and get drunk.
On the dance floor there are only five people dancing. A few minutes later, I'm surrounded by more than a dozen people. The three DJs are in a superb mood and put on some really good beats and one of them sings along. When they play the song 'Who let the dogs out', I turn around and sing with the DJ. He holds the microphone in front of my face and grabs a second one, so we sing together. This is so much fun! At some point I remember the reason I've come here and get off stage and try to find Tami. I find her at one of the bars. We sit down and discuss business, I have a bottle of water and a few minutes later, I pass by the table where my mate sits. He's still watching and drinking, so I go back to the dance floor and dance for hours. At some point, someone taps on my shoulder and when I turn around, I see a guy with a small glass in his hand, offering me a drink. It's lukewarm beer. I drink half the glass and pass it back to him. He downs it, hugs me and says: My friend! We continue dancing like crazy.
Around 4am when many people have already gone, I spot my mate Kalib sleeping on the sofa. I go to him and try to wake him. He's seriously drunk and it takes me a while to get him fit and standing. We get our jackets from the cloakroom and walk to the lift. When we get in and the doors are about to close, a tall and chubby man comes around the corner, sees the closing doors and shouts 'STOP!'
I put my arm in front of the doors to keep them open. He then turns around and signals to someone to come. Four ladies appear and walk towards us. They get in, but the guy doesn't. The ladies want the guy to go with them and persuade him to do so. Doors close and our journey down begins.
I try to hold Kalib, so he doesn't fall down. One of the ladies touches him on his cheek and says: How are you my dear? Kalib tries to answer, but fails, which results into laughter. I can't hold him while laughing and he starts to slide down. The man jumps and catches him halfway down and raises him again. One of the women says: 'Well down my hero!' and we all laugh. Then they start blowing kisses to us, and they all tune in and sing a song. It's a long way down from the 41st floor.
As soon as we are out of the building and a few raindrops fall on us, my mate looks up and says: It's fucking raining again! Well, it was raining on our way here, but you probably don't remember.
We walk through the street kitchens towards the road and flag down a taxi. We both get in the back. I say to the driver 'Jinyang Bei Lu', and he replies in English 'Where exactly?'
'Do you know the YH mall?'
'Yes!'
'There!'
'OK!'
So we drive off. A few minutes later, he says that he needs to stop at a petrol station to fill in the car and points with his finger at the yellow lamp on the dashboard. No problem! Then he attempts to take another passenger, but I tell him not to do so and drive us straight home. He obeys. A few yards before the petrol station however, he spots a woman standing at the roadside and asks if we can take her with us. 'If she's going to our direction, that's fine' I say. We stop, they talk, door opens and she gets in. She turns around and sees us and mumbles something in Mandarin.
'Pleased to meet you, too!' says Kalib, and me and the driver start laughing.
We drive onto the premisses of the petrol station, the driver fills in the car and disappears into the shop. In the meantime, the woman stares at us, and I stare back. Kalib is sleeping.
The driver comes back and holds three cans of beer in his hands. He gives one to the woman and two to me. We continue and the woman makes a call. A few minutes later the taxi stops, she pays her share, gets out and walks to a waiting car.
We continue our journey and my mate wakes up and says that he needs to pee. 'OK!' says the driver, 'I'll stop somewhere, where you can pee.'
There's another woman standing at the roadside and the driver stops again. He opens the window, they talk, she gets in and we drive off. She turns around, looks at us and says: 'Laowai'. Yes, that's what we are.
The driver stops in front of some trees and bushes and I help my mate out. He walks to the trees, leans on one of them and does his business. Meanwhile the driver and the lady smoke and have a conversation, but the lady is staring at me. I stare back and blow her kisses, but she doesn't react.
'She's a prostitute' says the driver, 'you can go with her if you want'. No, thank you!
My mate pukes and I bring him some tissues and we walk back to the taxi and get in. The driver and the lady are still talking and smoking. We set off and arrive at the YH mall around ten minutes later. The lady pays her share, gets out and walks across the street and disappears into a 'special massage' place, one with a happy ending. I direct the driver into the underground car park of the complex and ask him to wait for, as I'm driving back to get my scooter.
I take my mate and the two beers, get into the lift up to the forth floor, he unlocks the door, I go with him inside, put the beer into the fridge and have a look around before I leave. Memories shoots through my head. The way back to the 'Sky Bar and Lounge' is quick and uneventful. The driver and I have some small talk, and half an hour later we arrive where the journey started.
I jump onto my scooter and ride home through the now rainy dawn. It's 5.30am when I arrive home and fall onto my bed.
I wake up at 9.30 because I can't sleep. Even though I feel tired, my eyes are wide open and I have the music and the events from last night in my head. I switch on my mobile and receive a WeRun notification, that's a WeChat programme that traces all your steps. Somebody liked the number of steps I've done. I click on it and see that my Chinese teacher Mi liked it. I click again and see that I've done 9256 steps. Jeez! How did this happen? Oh, I danced all night. I do some work and at 12pm, I go back to sleep. I wake up at 1pm due to an empty stomach, shower and get ready to go for lunch.
I roll the scooter out of my flat, where I've had it to charge, into the hall with the lifts and go back to lock the door. I look which lift to call and see that out of the seven lifts, two are not working, three don't go down to the car park, one is somewhere fifteen floors beneath me on its way down and the last one I normally use, I've just missed. So I press the buttons of the two lifts I can use and wait.
Suddenly Bobo, my Chinese neighbour from the music and recording studio appears, sees me with my scooter, gives me a thumbs up, asks for my WeChat, scans my QR code, but doesn't hit the green button to send a request. Instead he calls someone. A boy about ten years old appears, sees me, turns around to his father and says: 'Laowai!' Then he comes, stands in front of me and the scooter, his father takes out his mobile phone and takes photos of us. The boy seems to enjoy it and strikes poses with the victory sign. One of the lifts is here, but Bobo signals me to wait. Then two ladies come from the hotel behind us, see us, smile at me and pose for photographs behind me. The boy's father is still taking photos and the ladies behind me make selfies with me.
Finally Bobo passes me his phone and says: 'speak!' I take the phone and hear a female voice asking:
'Who is this?'
'Who are you?' I ask back.
'How can I help you?' she asks.
'No idea, Bobo just passed me his phone. Who are you?'
'I'm his wife.'
'Good, what does he want?'
As we're having this conversation, Miss Du, the wonderful receptionist lady of my building appears around the corner, sees me on the scooter talking on the phone, sees the boy in front of me striking poses, the two ladies behind me taking selfies and Bobo standing there, watching and smoking.
Miss Du asks what am I doing here with my scooter. I try to tell her that I bring it up to charge, because the facilities in the car park are not good. Either all the places along the walls where the sockets are, are taken, and if you find a spot, you have to pay a small fee, but the batteries don't get fully charged. The system stops after a few hours. So, that's the reason why you see me here with my scooter. The lady on the phone doesn't realise what I'm saying and who I'm talking to and gets confused. In the meantime the father, the boy and the two ladies take the lift down. I arrange a meeting with the lady to discuss business. Didn't quite understand what she wants, but we're meeting tonight at 7.
Then Miss Du wants a photo with me, and then I'm finally released to go.
The journey down is adventurous too. The lift comes from the 42nd floor, and when the doors open, I see two young men. One is smoking, one is holding a can of beer in his hand. I say 'No smoking please!' and signal the smoker to go out, which he does. He walks to the ashtray and gets back in into the lift. I ask the men to step aside, so I can fit my scooter in. As I have to move it a bit sideways, and don't really have the energy to do that, Bobo comes and helps. I press the button to the car park, the doors close and the journey down begins.
A few floors down, the lift stops and the doors open. There's a member of staff with the litter bin, but he doesn't fit in, so he stays out. A few more floors down the lift stops again. A man with a parcel looks at us, we look back, he gets in, doors close and the journey continues. Some more floors down, the lift stops again, and another man gets in. Now I can't help myself and start giggling. The two men who got in on the 42nd floor and are standing directly opposite me, giggle too, and then we burst out laughing. The man with the parcel and the other man are standing with their backs towards me and don't seem to understand why we're laughing.
Finally we reach the ground floor, one man gets out, the two men have to climb over my scooter to get out, the man with the parcel remains, because he's going to -2. I get out on -1 and some workmen help me move my scooter and take it out of the lift.
There are massive traffic jams on the way to the supermarket and my favourite restaurant, that's why I drive on the pavements, like the Chinese. Some pedestrians stare at me while I drive past them, and I stare back.
There's a knock on my door at 7pm, it's Bobo and his wife Cathy (her English name). They invite me over to the studio and we have a long conversation and drink some local Chinese tea. Cathy wants to launch an English corner for young children, on Saturdays afternoon, in the Italian restaurant Babbo, which is located on the 38th floor of the commercial building number 4. We're in number 3. Well, I can't on Saturdays because I work elsewhere. She then says that if she has more students, she will organise an English corner on Wednesdays afternoon and asks if I have time to do that. Yes, I have.
I then have to get ready for a wine tasting event. The host is a young lady called Ruo, who actually is a tea master. She has a studio across town, where she holds and teaches tea ceremonies. I've been to one of her ceremonies and found it very interesting. Tonight she has some friends and guests for a wine tasting. The girls in the photos are her friends, the men sitting opposite import wine from France and Spain. We drink French wine tonight, eat some local food, various fruit and fruit salad. I talk to Angel most of the time. He's from Spain, actually from Bilbao in the Basque Country. He does business in Hong Kong and wants to sell wine in Guiyang and the Guizhou Province. He's here with his Chinese partner and a guy he wants to do business with. They spent all day talking and planning and now they are here, drinking and chatting.
I feel very tired when we leave the place sometime after midnight, and have to think of what Lynn, my classmate from my masters course said many years ago: At our age, one night out, one week to recover.
Jing, my wonderful assistant from Hull, once asked me how long I need to recover after a night out. I replied with Lynn's words and a cheeky smile.
What a beautiful way to end a day!
When in Rome, .... Some images from the concert hall taken at the end of the concert, when the use of mobile devices is allowed.
German beer in the restaurant
Dancer in the Sky Bar and Lounge (huge screen behind her, DJs on the right)
The Crowd say Bo Selecta! (Re-Rewind, by The Artful Dodger)
Businessman on a scooter on the 39th floor, with two mobiles,
and a secretary
The studio
Fruit salad
Boys and girls
French wine
If you would like to read more by me, here are my novel and my diary from Ar'ar, in the northern Saudi desert. Both available on Amazon as soft and hard copy.
I changed jobs a few months ago, and work now at a language training school in downtown Guiyang and my working week is Thursday to Sunday. I will post another time about it.
Our timetable has changed, due to the short Dragon Boat Festival vacation. This week I work reduced hours and get Sunday off. Public schools closed for two days, but those days are not going to be missed, they just have been moved to other days, like this Sunday for example. Many students have left the city which results in many classes being cancelled, and therefore reduced hours for me and my colleagues.
Even though my first class is at 2.10pm today, I have to be at work at 9am. Don't ask why. It is pointless, but that's what my contract says (not that it is pointless, I wish it said that). Well, my 2.10pm and my 4.40pm classes have been cancelled and I've got only one half an hour class at 4pm, with a 3 year old boy, the son of my director of studies. That little bugger refuses to follow me into the classroom and it takes a lot of effort of four of us to get him into the room. I try to trick him with a lion drawing and tell him that if he follows me, he'll get to paint it, and it seems to work. As soon as the little bugger is in the classroom, my colleagues shut the door, so he can't escape. This operation has taken us ten minutes. Twenty minutes remain to draw the lion. He decides that he likes an elephant better and draws that.
What have I been doing all day? I worked on a translation, talked to my colleagues, went on an extensive lunch break, planned my lessons for next week, etc.
Finally, it's 4.30pm and I'm free to go home.
Three hours later, I stand at the foyer of the Guiyang Grand Theatre and wait for my friend Yi. We come here every Saturday evening to watch classical concerts. While I'm waiting for her, I listen to the chanting of the Miao Minority. They perform in the foyer for roughly 20 minutes, before their show and our concert start. There is a second hall in the theatre, in which they perform the Colourful Guizhou show five times a week. (see appropriate post).
Tonight it's Puccini potpourri night. I wish they played a full opera from the beginning to the end and not pieces from various plays. There are two singers going on and off stage and there's a few minutes break between the pieces for the audience to applaud. Because of this, the audience is very noisy tonight and we can't really enjoy the show. Guiyang audience is not really famous for their behaviour when it comes to viewing a classical concert, and tonight is one of the worst nights ever.
They talk, they use their mobiles, they take photographs (even though the use of mobile devices is strictly forbidden), they applaud too early, eat and drink, cough and sneeze, answer calls, some have at least the decency to stand up and leave the hall, which disturbs the other viewers, etc. I have the urge to eat popcorn. I wish I had a bucket full of it. That's how I feel.
After the concert, I bring Yi to her car, hug her goodbye and walk back to the theatre to wait for my percussionist friend Jerry and go as always to a nearby restaurant. There he has something to eat and I have a big glass of German beer, Erdinger Weissbier, dark.
An hour or so later, around 11pm, we walk back to the theatre. He wants to go to his girlfriend's, and I don't really want to go home, since I don't have to work on Sunday. As we reach the theatre, we see the Spaniards Victor, the timpani player and his wife Alba coming down the stairs. We have a little chat and they ask me to go to 'Uptown' with them if I want. I hate that place, but I agree, since I have wanted to meet a guy called Jack in order to link our blogs and sites. We get on our scooters and drive a few minutes across downtown.
When we get inside, I spot my old housemate and go to him. It's surprisingly quiet for a Saturday night, but I'm told that it was busier earlier on and people moved to the various clubs in town. Jack has left a few minutes before I arrived. Damn!
I receive a text from Tami, a Kazakh lady, who needs some foreigners for a promotion for a club opening later this month. We were meant to meet a few days ago, but we kept postponing it. I ask her where she is and she tells me she's in the 'Sky Bar and Lounge'. I tell my former housemate that I have to leave and he asks whether he can come with me. Yes, he can. We jump onto my scooter and drive down some roads, into the now rainy night. We arrive and park in front of the building. The club is situated on the 41st floor and has a spectacular view over the city. The ride with the lift seems to take an eternity and when we finally arrive we first walk to the cloakroom and then into the club. There is a massive screen above the DJs showing a football match. My former housemate has a seat on one of the sofas directly opposite the screen, and the five or six Chinese men sitting at the table, start immediately a conversation with us. They bring out some beers, whisky and champaign, and fill in some glasses for us. Ganbei, they shout, and the champaign is downed at once. I tell my mate that I need to go to the loo and leave him with the locals. When I'm back, I see him drinking whisky with them. I ask him if he wants to hit the dance floor, but he prefers to watch the match and get drunk.
On the dance floor there are only five people dancing. A few minutes later, I'm surrounded by more than a dozen people. The three DJs are in a superb mood and put on some really good beats and one of them sings along. When they play the song 'Who let the dogs out', I turn around and sing with the DJ. He holds the microphone in front of my face and grabs a second one, so we sing together. This is so much fun! At some point I remember the reason I've come here and get off stage and try to find Tami. I find her at one of the bars. We sit down and discuss business, I have a bottle of water and a few minutes later, I pass by the table where my mate sits. He's still watching and drinking, so I go back to the dance floor and dance for hours. At some point, someone taps on my shoulder and when I turn around, I see a guy with a small glass in his hand, offering me a drink. It's lukewarm beer. I drink half the glass and pass it back to him. He downs it, hugs me and says: My friend! We continue dancing like crazy.
Around 4am when many people have already gone, I spot my mate Kalib sleeping on the sofa. I go to him and try to wake him. He's seriously drunk and it takes me a while to get him fit and standing. We get our jackets from the cloakroom and walk to the lift. When we get in and the doors are about to close, a tall and chubby man comes around the corner, sees the closing doors and shouts 'STOP!'
I put my arm in front of the doors to keep them open. He then turns around and signals to someone to come. Four ladies appear and walk towards us. They get in, but the guy doesn't. The ladies want the guy to go with them and persuade him to do so. Doors close and our journey down begins.
I try to hold Kalib, so he doesn't fall down. One of the ladies touches him on his cheek and says: How are you my dear? Kalib tries to answer, but fails, which results into laughter. I can't hold him while laughing and he starts to slide down. The man jumps and catches him halfway down and raises him again. One of the women says: 'Well down my hero!' and we all laugh. Then they start blowing kisses to us, and they all tune in and sing a song. It's a long way down from the 41st floor.
As soon as we are out of the building and a few raindrops fall on us, my mate looks up and says: It's fucking raining again! Well, it was raining on our way here, but you probably don't remember.
We walk through the street kitchens towards the road and flag down a taxi. We both get in the back. I say to the driver 'Jinyang Bei Lu', and he replies in English 'Where exactly?'
'Do you know the YH mall?'
'Yes!'
'There!'
'OK!'
So we drive off. A few minutes later, he says that he needs to stop at a petrol station to fill in the car and points with his finger at the yellow lamp on the dashboard. No problem! Then he attempts to take another passenger, but I tell him not to do so and drive us straight home. He obeys. A few yards before the petrol station however, he spots a woman standing at the roadside and asks if we can take her with us. 'If she's going to our direction, that's fine' I say. We stop, they talk, door opens and she gets in. She turns around and sees us and mumbles something in Mandarin.
'Pleased to meet you, too!' says Kalib, and me and the driver start laughing.
We drive onto the premisses of the petrol station, the driver fills in the car and disappears into the shop. In the meantime, the woman stares at us, and I stare back. Kalib is sleeping.
The driver comes back and holds three cans of beer in his hands. He gives one to the woman and two to me. We continue and the woman makes a call. A few minutes later the taxi stops, she pays her share, gets out and walks to a waiting car.
We continue our journey and my mate wakes up and says that he needs to pee. 'OK!' says the driver, 'I'll stop somewhere, where you can pee.'
There's another woman standing at the roadside and the driver stops again. He opens the window, they talk, she gets in and we drive off. She turns around, looks at us and says: 'Laowai'. Yes, that's what we are.
The driver stops in front of some trees and bushes and I help my mate out. He walks to the trees, leans on one of them and does his business. Meanwhile the driver and the lady smoke and have a conversation, but the lady is staring at me. I stare back and blow her kisses, but she doesn't react.
'She's a prostitute' says the driver, 'you can go with her if you want'. No, thank you!
My mate pukes and I bring him some tissues and we walk back to the taxi and get in. The driver and the lady are still talking and smoking. We set off and arrive at the YH mall around ten minutes later. The lady pays her share, gets out and walks across the street and disappears into a 'special massage' place, one with a happy ending. I direct the driver into the underground car park of the complex and ask him to wait for, as I'm driving back to get my scooter.
I take my mate and the two beers, get into the lift up to the forth floor, he unlocks the door, I go with him inside, put the beer into the fridge and have a look around before I leave. Memories shoots through my head. The way back to the 'Sky Bar and Lounge' is quick and uneventful. The driver and I have some small talk, and half an hour later we arrive where the journey started.
I jump onto my scooter and ride home through the now rainy dawn. It's 5.30am when I arrive home and fall onto my bed.
I wake up at 9.30 because I can't sleep. Even though I feel tired, my eyes are wide open and I have the music and the events from last night in my head. I switch on my mobile and receive a WeRun notification, that's a WeChat programme that traces all your steps. Somebody liked the number of steps I've done. I click on it and see that my Chinese teacher Mi liked it. I click again and see that I've done 9256 steps. Jeez! How did this happen? Oh, I danced all night. I do some work and at 12pm, I go back to sleep. I wake up at 1pm due to an empty stomach, shower and get ready to go for lunch.
I roll the scooter out of my flat, where I've had it to charge, into the hall with the lifts and go back to lock the door. I look which lift to call and see that out of the seven lifts, two are not working, three don't go down to the car park, one is somewhere fifteen floors beneath me on its way down and the last one I normally use, I've just missed. So I press the buttons of the two lifts I can use and wait.
Suddenly Bobo, my Chinese neighbour from the music and recording studio appears, sees me with my scooter, gives me a thumbs up, asks for my WeChat, scans my QR code, but doesn't hit the green button to send a request. Instead he calls someone. A boy about ten years old appears, sees me, turns around to his father and says: 'Laowai!' Then he comes, stands in front of me and the scooter, his father takes out his mobile phone and takes photos of us. The boy seems to enjoy it and strikes poses with the victory sign. One of the lifts is here, but Bobo signals me to wait. Then two ladies come from the hotel behind us, see us, smile at me and pose for photographs behind me. The boy's father is still taking photos and the ladies behind me make selfies with me.
Finally Bobo passes me his phone and says: 'speak!' I take the phone and hear a female voice asking:
'Who is this?'
'Who are you?' I ask back.
'How can I help you?' she asks.
'No idea, Bobo just passed me his phone. Who are you?'
'I'm his wife.'
'Good, what does he want?'
As we're having this conversation, Miss Du, the wonderful receptionist lady of my building appears around the corner, sees me on the scooter talking on the phone, sees the boy in front of me striking poses, the two ladies behind me taking selfies and Bobo standing there, watching and smoking.
Miss Du asks what am I doing here with my scooter. I try to tell her that I bring it up to charge, because the facilities in the car park are not good. Either all the places along the walls where the sockets are, are taken, and if you find a spot, you have to pay a small fee, but the batteries don't get fully charged. The system stops after a few hours. So, that's the reason why you see me here with my scooter. The lady on the phone doesn't realise what I'm saying and who I'm talking to and gets confused. In the meantime the father, the boy and the two ladies take the lift down. I arrange a meeting with the lady to discuss business. Didn't quite understand what she wants, but we're meeting tonight at 7.
Then Miss Du wants a photo with me, and then I'm finally released to go.
The journey down is adventurous too. The lift comes from the 42nd floor, and when the doors open, I see two young men. One is smoking, one is holding a can of beer in his hand. I say 'No smoking please!' and signal the smoker to go out, which he does. He walks to the ashtray and gets back in into the lift. I ask the men to step aside, so I can fit my scooter in. As I have to move it a bit sideways, and don't really have the energy to do that, Bobo comes and helps. I press the button to the car park, the doors close and the journey down begins.
A few floors down, the lift stops and the doors open. There's a member of staff with the litter bin, but he doesn't fit in, so he stays out. A few more floors down the lift stops again. A man with a parcel looks at us, we look back, he gets in, doors close and the journey continues. Some more floors down, the lift stops again, and another man gets in. Now I can't help myself and start giggling. The two men who got in on the 42nd floor and are standing directly opposite me, giggle too, and then we burst out laughing. The man with the parcel and the other man are standing with their backs towards me and don't seem to understand why we're laughing.
Finally we reach the ground floor, one man gets out, the two men have to climb over my scooter to get out, the man with the parcel remains, because he's going to -2. I get out on -1 and some workmen help me move my scooter and take it out of the lift.
There are massive traffic jams on the way to the supermarket and my favourite restaurant, that's why I drive on the pavements, like the Chinese. Some pedestrians stare at me while I drive past them, and I stare back.
There's a knock on my door at 7pm, it's Bobo and his wife Cathy (her English name). They invite me over to the studio and we have a long conversation and drink some local Chinese tea. Cathy wants to launch an English corner for young children, on Saturdays afternoon, in the Italian restaurant Babbo, which is located on the 38th floor of the commercial building number 4. We're in number 3. Well, I can't on Saturdays because I work elsewhere. She then says that if she has more students, she will organise an English corner on Wednesdays afternoon and asks if I have time to do that. Yes, I have.
I then have to get ready for a wine tasting event. The host is a young lady called Ruo, who actually is a tea master. She has a studio across town, where she holds and teaches tea ceremonies. I've been to one of her ceremonies and found it very interesting. Tonight she has some friends and guests for a wine tasting. The girls in the photos are her friends, the men sitting opposite import wine from France and Spain. We drink French wine tonight, eat some local food, various fruit and fruit salad. I talk to Angel most of the time. He's from Spain, actually from Bilbao in the Basque Country. He does business in Hong Kong and wants to sell wine in Guiyang and the Guizhou Province. He's here with his Chinese partner and a guy he wants to do business with. They spent all day talking and planning and now they are here, drinking and chatting.
I feel very tired when we leave the place sometime after midnight, and have to think of what Lynn, my classmate from my masters course said many years ago: At our age, one night out, one week to recover.
Jing, my wonderful assistant from Hull, once asked me how long I need to recover after a night out. I replied with Lynn's words and a cheeky smile.
What a beautiful way to end a day!
Tea from my neighbours
Entrance to the tea ceremony studio (wine tasting tonight)
If you would like to read more by me, here are my novel and my diary from Ar'ar, in the northern Saudi desert. Both available on Amazon as soft and hard copy.
