Chapter 111

I got up at 6, drank green tea, listened to a DMX compilation, read the news and did yoga. This session focused on the upper body, which felt particularly nice after yesterday’s calisthenics. The videos I use are from an old friend I was in the army with a long time ago, I sent a link to other army pals and they found it hilarious, let’s just say that guy had a very different personality back then compared to the serene exterior he has in his YouTube videos.

I rode to school and supervised a lab. It involved some sulfurous compounds so at the end when they dumped the contents of their beakers in the waste barrel the whole room had a pungent smell. I asked who farted, and everyone laughed. Flatulences are funny in every culture, whether we talk about the sound, the smell, the awkwardness, the admiration given to the lucky few who can rip impressive ones, the humiliation of being blamed.

I gave a lesson to the eleventh-graders about infrared spectroscopy. For whatever reason, the head honchos decided that this analytical method would be on the curriculum. I’m sometimes wondering how they decide what is and what isn’t, I used to teach American AP (Advanced Placement) and though there were obviously lots of overlap, a lot of the topics were different or with different depth than the British A-levels. I’m just a foot soldier, applying the orders from up there in the hierarchical chain.

I got home, ate a big plate of scrambled eggs, sausages, coleslaw and two slices of bread, and watched the news. Derek Chauvin was found guilty of the murder of George Floyd. I was a bit surprised, I thought he’d get manslaughter or criminal negligence charges, but not murder. Apparently the defense called foul, citing political interference and jury intimidation, so there will likely be an appeal. For sure I can imagine the prospect of their city burning to ashes if Chauvin were acquitted played a role in the jury’s decision process.

In the afternoon I did more practice theoretical tests. The passing grade is 45/50, and I manage to do it about half the time, so I need to practice more. My exam is scheduled for Sunday, and when I saw that there are rock concerts in Shanghai this weekend, I looked up train and bus schedules, thinking that if I come back early enough on Sunday I could make the exam. I looked online for the test center’s number and called them. It’s always a bit nerve-wracking to make a phone call in China, I speak Chinese well enough but without the obvious visual cue that I’m a stinking bumbling foreigner, I imagine I cause confusion at the other end of the line sometimes. Either way I got the info I wanted, I can turn up for the test any time between 8:30 and 10:30, with an early departure from Shanghai I’ll make it back.

I summoned the courage to keep diving in the Rolling Stone’s Top 500 and... it was a pretty good Elvis Presley album, I was surprised to hear something way more like country than shitty proto-rock n’ roll. Next up was some boring shit by Lana Del Rey. It had the edgy name of Norman Fucking Rockwell but was blander than unseasoned microwaveable mashed potatoes. What kind of boomer would listen to that quasi-non-music and go “Hell yeah, this is the 321^st best album of all time”?

My last class was with the twelfth-graders, one read 20^oC as “twenty du” and when I asked him how to say ^oC in English he didn’t know. He knew the word “twenty” at least, little victories, I guess. Universities all over the USA, UK, Canada and especially Australia are now flooded with Chinese rich kids who don’t speak English, cheapening the education given there, as if academia and post-secondary education wasn’t already a bad joke. I’m a cog in that whole conveyor belt and have been for almost a decade now, but hey, as I said a few paragraphs ago I’m just a foot soldier, if it wasn’t me it would be some other mercenary wielding the halberd. I’m losing my patience at times, re-explaining the same concepts for the 830^th time to students too lazy to take notes, and I find myself throwing snarky comments at them like “No, stare in space with an open mouth isn’t the answer to the question. So what is it then?” It’s about time the school year ends.

I got home, took a nap, went to roll jiu-jitsu, and then ate noodles at a Muslim restaurant with the girlfriend and the dog. Some of those Lanzhou Lamian eateries don’t let dogs in because they’re haram but our regular spot is fine with Triangle Face sitting there begging for chunks of beef.

We walked home, I drank a gin-tonic while watching some UFC Embedded videos, showing the fighters’ daily lives as they get closer to this weekend’s big PPV. Usman vs Masvidal II is a dumb joke, but the two female championships are extremely compelling.

As I was about to go to bed and watch The Office with the girlfriend, we saw that the retarded little animal peed there. I rubbed his face in, yelling NO! NO! NO! and then we changed the sheets. The dog was relegated to his own bed, and the girlfriend said perhaps he should always be sleeping there, but of course after ten minutes she changed her mind and let him back in. He’s just too cute, especially when he’s all sheepish like that after he did something stupid and feels sorry.