Excremental Encounters

Well, today was interesting. I got a call at 9.30am from Susan, my foreign affairs officer, letting me know that this morning we would be going out to visit some primary and junior schools in the countryside to advertise for our school. At least she gave me a little warning, so after a quick shower I joined her, Mr Feng the communist party secretary, Mr Li the driver, the lady who gives me my pay and the short round bloke who works in the financial office - a fairly motley collection of souls, all crammed into one car.

We drove up past Wan Nian Qiao into the South Mountains, which divide Hunan from Guangdong. First school we stopped at was really down at heel. From 1000 students a few years ago, the school now only used a handful of rooms, the remaining buildings standing neglected with only chalk dust to occupy them. Most students these days study as boarders in Lanshan itself. I could see why. I had to go in and speak to some Junior 3 students and their English was just dire.

Question - 'What's your name?'

Answer - 'No'.

Well, back to the fields with you then! Nothing other than a miracle could get them through Senior school English. University is just another word they won't have to worry about spelling.

We paused at a nice little primary school to say hi before a longer drive to Susan's old home town, Da Shao (or something like that). This school was a little crazy. From the moment I got out of the car I had no fewer than 50 kids surrounding me, all giggling and muttering 'waiguoeen, waiguoeen' (dialect - foreigner, foreigner). They swarmed round me like flies, but curiously enough always maintained an exclusion zone at about arm's length, like I had some force field surrounding me. Whenever I moved in any one direction, the kids in front would back away to maintain that safety zone and the ones behind would edge closer.

It was funny. I felt like the Big Bad Wolf. At one point I decided it would be amusing to test this out and turned around, raising my hands in a clawing motion, and quietly said 'rarr'. Nobody has squealed and shrunk away from me like that in some time... That was a little odd.

What happened next was downright disturbing though. The two women and I needed the toilet. I could see my little orbiting fan club following me in the direction of the loos and asked Susan to tell them not to follow me in. She tried. Fat lot of good that did.

Going to the toilet in China is never a particularly private performance. There are generally cubicles, but whether the walls to these are taller than three feet high or if there are any doors is another question entirely. It's a communal affair. Privacy is not a concept that the Chinese have a firm grasp on. In fact I'm told that there is no direct translation for the word. Enough said.

So I enter the toilets. It's the usual - a double row of concrete stalls with waist high walls, open at the ends, with a small slot in the floor from which the stench of the underlying cesspit rises to take your breath away each and every single time. I take position at one of the stalls and start to unbutton my flies. Then, one by one, the boys who were all crowded in the doorway run up to occupy all of the stalls around me, relieving themselves and peering over the walls at me to see what would happen next. In those circumstances there would be no 'next'. I buttoned back up and was about to leave when I saw the boy in front aiming high, splashing the partition wall in front of me. I got the hell out of there and it was only then that I noticed the wet droplet marks on the lower right leg of my jeans. The little fucker had pissed on me. I was not amused.

You have no idea how uncomfortable that made me feel. I couldn't even make eye-contact with the little gits. I just stood staring straight ahead waiting for the ladies to rejoin me so we could go and leave the whole situation behind.

Lunch, several cups of rice wine, some fresh watermelon (in season now and on every street corner), 100 yuan lost at mahjong and a few classroom introductions later, we made it out and on to the final school.

I played ping pong with the kids here and attempted some class introductions, but with the primary kids that got a bit messy. My force-field had been well and truly decimated by this point and I had to work hard just to stop the kids jumping all over me. Better than being pissed on I guess...

Still, it never rains, but it pours. I finally got home after a long day and went to take in my washing only to find a swallow had shat in my pants.

Perfect.

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In other news... some big decisions were made recently.

1. My return date to the UK has been fixed. August 16th will see me touch down at Heathrow fully two days before my family gets back from holiday in Cornwall. Issues to be resolved there...

2. I have accepted an offer to study at Leeds Metropolitan University from September. I've decided to just get on with things and am looking forward to getting back up north again. NOT looking forward to the reverse culture shock...'4.99 for that? You get it for 6p where I come from. Besides, there's hardly any bones in it...and what do you mean you don't do tripe...'

I should really be emailing you all this information, but the last month has been manic and I'm still trying to catch up with myself. Bear with me...