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Thoughts on afternoon tea
Thoughts on afternoon tea
They say that living abroad gives you a new perspective on your own country. There are certainly a few things I noticed (and missed) about the UK since expatting for almost two years: most of our social activities are centered around the pub, cheese is cheap and easy to find in many varieties, and we have a positive attitude to second hand products and recycling, to name but a few. A question thatâŚ
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Back to school
I started Chinese lessons again last week. Iâd been waiting (putting it off might be a more appropriate term) until 2016, a time uninterrupted by Christmas holidays and related plans. The first week back at work saw me drifting through my usual catalogue of websites and polishing off Zadie Smithâs âThe Autograph Manâ, but wholeheartedly not bothering to search for classes. Iâd made some inquiresâŚ
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The First Massage
Wearing nothing but a small pair of knickers, I sat perched on the edge of the narrow mattress. Diffused light cast a glow on my pallor. The relaxing sound of recorded water trickled from a small speaker in the corner. A towel was folded at the end of the bed, and a single shelf above was home to a cluster of aromatherapy oils and what looked like a shoehorn made from bone. A clock tickedâŚ
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An Adventure in Food
An Adventure in Food
Before China, I considered myself an adventurous eater. While inter-railing I sampled local foods all over Europe, fearlessly embracing everything from pintxos to knedliky. I was always eager to experience the newest offerings in my city, and would always be keen to try anything with an ingredient I canât pronounce. Iâve always been someone who gets excited about food, be it a steaming bag ofâŚ
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The Illusion of Language
The Illusion of Language
Do you ever get that thing where you learn a new word, or idea then keep coming across it? Or after being told about an old film that youâve never hear of, start to see reference to it everywhere? Its a common phenomena, which I recently discovered has a name: âFrequency Illusionâ. In my experience, frequency illusion happens when learning languages too.
For example, is it merely coincidence thatâŚ
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Perceptions
Its no secret that people in unskilled jobs are often the victims of snobbery. Those jobs that keep us in in cheap wine and gig tickets in college, or cheap wine and rent in adulthood. Jobs that are a means to an end rather than a career choice. I waitressed my way through college and uni, so I am familiar with the kind of sneering dismissal that occasionally seeps from barristers in Burton suitsâŚ
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Hot and Cold
The water in Guangzhou was so riddled with trace metals and pollution that my flatmates and I used to wash our hair with bottled water. I know, i know; plastic bottles are terrible for everything, and tipping spring water down the drain is a disgustingly indulgent waste of money and energy. At the time, when my hair was the texture of wire wool and shedding like an ungroomed cat, it seemed like aâŚ
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ćä¸ĺçš!
My 24th wasnât an important birthday, but I sensed it might be my last in Guangzhou. A Chinese friend and i decided to have a joint party, and rented one of the shiny mezzanine apartments in Liede.
Our WeChat guest list contained a mix of people; Iâve written before about how expat parties in Guangzhou attract a diversity of demographics. There were my girlfriends, of course; my favorite ones whoâŚ
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Scallop Trauma
Anyone who has been part of a Chinese company will have been for a Work Dinner. Â
Work Dinner is not something to be looked forward to, not even by the most impassioned Asian food enthusiast. This particular dinner, the dinner where quite by accident I was to make a fool of not only myself, but also my boss and my friend, was doomed from the start. It was in Panyu, a suburb of Guangzhou that hadâŚ
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First Impressions
âArenât Chinese people really noisy?â My brother asked me, when I came back to Glasgow after a year and a half in Guangzhou. He is nine. Iâd let him persuade me to take him to McDonalds after a mosey around the Gallery of Modern Art. Heâd begged me to take him to see the exhibitions, and I donât think its what he expected. There was a swearword in one of the video installations, and he wasâŚ
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Review: South China Morning Blues
Review: South China Morning Blues
One of my favorite China bloggers and journalists has gone and published another book! Ray Hecht, from the Mid West via Israel and now based in Shenzhen, is the author of The Ghost of Lotus Mountain Brothel and Loser Parade. He now brings us South China Morning Blues, a collection of tales that bind together the lives of twelve young souls lost in South Chinaâs growing metropolis.
Each chapterâŚ
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victims of advertising
During my routine Monday morning scroll through Facebook, a link posted by i-D caught my attention: âEmma Watson responds to white feminist criticismâ. White feminist? Is that a sub category now? Surely at the heart of feminism lies a desire for equality rooted in empathy that is shared by all feminists? If I knew the answers to those questions, this might have become a very different post, butâŚ
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struggle / adventure
I remember the moment when i decided to come back to England. It was a weekday afternoon, and I was sitting with my laptop in the tearoom below the office where I worked. A guzheng twanged softly in the background, an accompaniment to the gentle clatter of small cups on wood and appreciative slurps of gong fu tea. The debate had been going on in my head for weeks, decisions delayed by the frostâŚ
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Unexpectedly Zen
I knew as soon as I walked into reception that I didnât want the job. It was the morning of my interview, and it was raining, the sky spraying out that late summer drizzle that mocks the watery sunshine. In a rebellion against the glowering clouds, I picked up a strawberry print brolly and began my mission of locating the office space in a warren of identical side streets. When I found the place,âŚ
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Making conversation
I come into work and make myself a breakfast of a slice of toast, a cup of green tea and a tea egg. Another early starter wanders into the kitchen to russel up his own al desko brekkie; he looks like somebodys gentle granddad, and I give him my best 8am office smile.
âThat looks very healthyâ, he says, peering into my cup with the leaves swirling around in pale green tinted water. SometimesâŚ
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tears of what?
It was my last weekend in China, and I was having a party. Together we made a WeChat group, set a venue and chose outfits. One of the best things about being a foreigner in China is that you find yourself slotting in to a community of people from all over the world, and you have something in common with all of them: you chose to abandon a comfortable Western lifestyle to come and live in the farâŚ
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empathy for returning wanderers
empathy for returning wanderers
One of the first things you notice when you come back to England, after over a year in Guangzhou, is the air. That heavy, humid smell, thick with the scented steam that swells from millions of street vendors across the city combined with the sour perfume of the Pearl River is replaced by the sharp, fresh breath exhaled by European vegetation. You can smell it as soon as you move out of the planeâŚ
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