a week in.

Day 6 (March 2)
I am never eating capsicum again. Or anything with chilli. I have the most horrendous heartburn.
Lots has happened; it’s hard to get my head around it all.
On Saturday night we had a leaving party for the three guys who had finished their contracts and were setting off elsewhere. It was a good night; the team of foreign teachers and Chinese teachers all gathered together before a huge spread of Chinese food (and KFC, god knows why) and copious amounts of beer and baiju. We played a few drinking games and got a bit silly, although the Chinese girls drank little, if at all. Everyone - bar Paul and I - had classes the next morning, so they headed off home at about 10pm. Paul, John and I decided to try for another pub, but Joe’s directions proved fruitless and John was no help, being utterly boozed, so we ended up heading home after all. We did, however, stop in at a general store and pick up another tiny bottle of baijou and some munchies… one last tipple couldn’t hurt, I thought. I thought differently when my alarm went off at 6.30am so we could sit through a day of classes.
I was pretty knackered by Sunday night, but Paul and I ended up going out for dinner at a slightly upmarket restaurant about 10 minutes’ walk from our apartment. Nice food, although my ‘rib fish and vegetable’ bore little resemblance to the menu picture: it was more bok choy than anything else, and oily stuff at that. What fish I could find was mostly spiney, boney stuff. Still, every experience counts.
Today – Monday – has been rather hectic. I got up early and headed to the gym, only to find it was locked up like Fort Knox and showing no sign of opening by 8am. Frustrated, I resorted to running around the park again. The snow has more or less melted now, but the paths are still slippery with ice in places. Bloody freezing today as well.
We had another roam around the streets before collecting the key for my ‘new’ apartment from Sally at lunchtime. Ventured into a restaurant we hadn’t tried before, and – luckily – a Chinese woman came to our aid when we were trying to figure out the menu. Tofu for me again, absolutely drowning in orange oil.
Paul taught a demo class this afternoon, his first. I sat in and watched, and although he shook and sweated like a demon, he did really well. That feeling of intimidation has started to set in now, especially now that Alistair’s arrived. Alistair is English as well, around 22, and has just come from four days’ training in Xi An. I kinda wish I’d done the same training – he seems quite confident about teaching now, whereas I’m still having nightmares.
I did teach my first English Corner class today, and I feel okay about it. It’s the first time I’ve ever dealt with three-year-olds, so I can’t be too harsh on myself about it. The only hiccup was when the Chinese teacher left the room to get me a marker pen; about six kids decided class must be over and ran out after her. Still, I got most of them shouting and pretending to be pigs or elephants or rabbits for most of my 22.5 minutes as teacher.
We took Alistair out to one of the popular alleyway restaurants tonight and spent about an hour picking our way through fried potato, capsicum, egg, tomato and various meats. It’s very easy to just eat and eat and eat when there’s several dishes in front of you. One can be full and still feel obliged to keep digging away.
I’m now in my silent, smelly, scummy ‘new’ apartment. The boys left it looking exactly how I feared they would. Grease and dirt and stains everywhere. The kitchen is abysmal. The bathroom is thoroughly caked in black scum, although the cleaning lady did her best. I can smell unwashed boy everywhere.
I’ve got a job ahead of me.