So it's tourism day today, Batu Caves are calling and I've been told it's a Hindu festival, so either the best or the worst day ever to go depending on your POV. I jump on the train to the caves and in an hour or so we've arrived, nice and easy route to the caves and for sure, it's full of people, I mean you think it's full at Tesco local on a Sunday Christmas Eve just before closing, but that's nothing compared to this. It is like a festival, in fact it's fair to say, it is a festival, there are stalls, a stage, food stands, people are getting their head's shaved and painted yellow - as you do - and a general sense of merriment is in the humid air that wafts with the smell of insence and sweat. I found the caves and the massive gold statue that, let's face it was what I was there for, 'Gold Statue Selfie'. Now I'm one for culture and history and all that shit, but I'm not religious, I don't care, no one's shaving my head today, I'm not strapping on a huge metal cage and climbing up the stairs and they were. I'm there for a cheap shot that I can put on Facebook or maybe Tinder, maybe someone will think I'm interesting since I've seen a gold statue bigger than the gold statues that they've seen. I mean it isn't very philosophical my travelling, I go to see fun stuff we didn't have in Manchester, take pictures, eat nice food, buy jewellery that I can show off once I'm back, wherever back is at that particular point ('Oh yes I bought this one at The Batu Caves in Malaysia, do you know it? Oh it's amazing! You really must go sometime. This one? Oh Paris. Darling isn't it?'), really I'm just a tremendous self aggrandising whore with a British Passport and a visa. But you know, it passes the time and keeps me off the streets. I purchase a small statuu of Ganeche that I later discover is know as the remover of obstacles, which make me L. OL. I get a Wechat message from the woman that paid for the holiday, telling me I owe her 300USD and we should meet on Monday so I can pay her, I say Yes figuring that the truth would antagonise her and that this is a problem for future Phil. I head back to Chinatown to find a bar, for a beer, some food and charge my phone, I find Reggae Bar XL a backpackers place, where I meet a man who over the course of 5 hours and 10 beers tells me I've been sleeping all wrong and that he can fix that. Later he orders me a GrabCar and makes sure I don't get ripped off. Nice man. |
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Jump a head to Spring Festival, some two months after Christmas, everyone is on holiday for 7 days, the weather is OK, the firecrackers are...cracking. I'm staying at a friends flat downtown and all is well with my world. And then I receive a text message. In 7 (seven) parts. FML 'How could you leave me alone like that, and on Christmas too, that's not what friends do!' 'Why would you...' 'I can't believe you..' 'I'll never...' You get the point. I organised a Skype - the sensible adult thing to do, I'm sure you'll agree. It did not get better. CouchSurfer, it just popped into my head, for no reason, I've never used it, not a member, wasn't even sure it was legit. Inside of two hours I was a member and a host had been in touch offering me his Couch. InternetSharingCultureForTheWin A day later I message the guy, who offers to pick me up from a given point in town and drop me at his flat before returning to work. I explain how grateful I am and start to ask about the deets, Do I need a towel/toothpaste etc? I'm told he has all those so not to worry. OK, so I ask about the Couch, will I need a sleeping bag or does he have a duvet? 'No it's ok, I have a big double bed, you can share with me!' No I try again, another host accepts, a similar conversation occurs during which he ask's if I'm gay. No I'm now 2 days from a holiday in a country I've never been to, flight tickets I hadn't paid for, with no place to stay and only one friend who is busy with Visa application forms. What could possibly go wrong? Malaysia: — noun 1. a constitutional monarchy in SE Asia: a federation, comprising the former British territories of Malaya, Sabah, and Sarawak: member of the Commonwealth of Nations. 126,310 sq. mi. (327,143 sq. km). Capital: Kuala Lumpur. 2. Malay Archipelago. 3. From the Latin meaning Bad Asia Sometime previous to this journey about which you are to learn, I met a Columbian woman that seemed nice and after a stolen weekend we decided I should go and visit her in Kuala Lumpur as I'd never seen it and she was on an extended trip there for work. For reasons to boring to explain, she bought my ticket. I know right ;-) I was going to skip the fact that I met her on Tinder. And that she was married. For the third time. But, knowing women like I do, I feel like it's somewhat relevant. A few weeks before I was meant to leave she came to visit me on Christmas weekend and we stayed in a hotel together, a rather fancy affair as I remember, standing bath in the main room, as you do, rooftop swimming pool and spa rooms in the basement. Not to shabby. I was planing to leave on Boxing Day but circumstances out of my control meant I had to leave Christmas Day night, and since she's a delicate little flower and we'd been drinking since midday, upon breaking the news she burst into tears and blamed me for everything, making her cry, having to leave her alone on Christmas, Trump, Brexit, pollution, all the things. I tried, I really did, I held her hand, I started to calm her down, but after a while a (female sort of) logic popped back in her pretty little head and I was again the bad guy. I left. I Forgot that we were on the second floor and I needed a key card to get out. *Stands there thinking about how best to deal with this, most delicate of situations.* Door opens, Columbia, tears in her eyes, brings me the card and let's me out. K thx bye. Into a taxi for the hour long ride home, realised I'd left all the Star Wars presents she'd bought me in the room, Rule 43: Don't leave your Star Wars toys behind. FML. The next day I get a call and an apology and an offer to bring me all my stuff. I graciously accept, 'cos I'm nice like that. We sit in a bar, we drink, eat and do the crossword and have a lovely night. I put her in a taxi to the airport. All is well in the world. CalmBeforeTheStorm So I went home for 3 months and thought that when I arrived back I wouldn't have a culture shock.
I was wrong. China is batshit crazy and I forgot that. So to highlight the kind of things that can (and by can I mean did) happen I'll tell you a little story: One day a happy little mouse fell in love with another mouse and they liked each other very much, then the boy mouse went out to a nightclub with the girl mouse and realized she was a sociopath and ran away from her. Because he'd been drinking happy mouse juice he lost his phone and this made the mouse sad, but apart from being sad it also meant that he couldn't phone anyone or use WeChat without Wi-Fi or use ANY of the accounts associated with his phone number because he has a new handset and the accounts know this and so want to send confirmation messages to the old number. The little mouse then left his bank card in the bank machine (I know, right), which was silly and all his friends said 'ohhh that was silly little mouse', then he realized it was Golden Week and that all the banks were closed and all his friends said 'Oh oh!' you'll have to wait till Monday silly mouse', and then the little mouse wished he'd taken more then 100RMB out (seriously who does that?). Monday comes and the banks open and our plucky little soldier trundles along to the bank and very quickly realizes that his Visa is being processed and so he doesn't HAVE his passport and HOW THE ACTUAL FUCK would he expect to get a replacement card or money or ANYTHING in China without it? Our little mouse has to wait for days and days and days until the passport comes back and then and only then can he get his bank card and any money and a sim card for his phone and so access to his accounts. Moral of the story: China is batshit crazy, so do not lose your phone. So this post finds me in my new position in China, for those that don't know, Im still in Beijing but in TongZhou, its east, way east, like it doesn't think its really Beijing anymore, but it is.
I'm still teaching (if you can call it that) but in a real school, so working Monday to Friday, 8-5 which makes life more convenient than last year. Not starting work until 1 on weekdays had its advantages but working weekends sucked so bad, that I can live with being out in the sticks, plus the people I work with are cool, not like The Fonz cool, like speaking 4 languages and don't care cool. This school has taught me two things, and for those of you potential TEFLers out there, hear this, its easy, really easy, I was a little worried that this place being more like an actual school I'd have to plan lessons 'n shit. What the fuck did I know? Also teaching is all about engagement, it's not what you say it's how you say it, you could teach the phone book if you do it right. Oh yeah also singing, that helps. The kids looooove that, so get used to it. So I guess that on the plane is a fitting time to write a new blog post, and I suppose that it's apropos to give an update on traveling, and suffice it to say that Emirates is fuckin' awesome, I'm going to hate doing easyJet with the plebs again - sorry plebs ;-)
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AuthorPhil Speakman, have English will travel. |