Chapter 273

I woke up with a bit of pep in my step. Today was the last day of work before a seven-day break, and I only had three class periods, that I used to give a unit exam to the eleventh-graders. Very easy stuff, I almost considered myself on vacation already. It’s a national holiday to commemorate the founding of the People’s Republic on October 1^st, 1949, overall it works out to a bit less than a week due to make-up days at the beginning and the end but it’s a big nice chunk of days off nonetheless.

There’s one grade-12 student I get along with, she isn’t in one of my classes but she was in the skateboarding club last year. A few days ago I ran into her in the hallways, asked how is she doing, and she said “I’m hungry!” so I gave her one of the muffins the girlfriend made. This morning, I saw her and her friends again, and she told me she left something on my desk. It was a plastic cup with some kind of fruit salad, with a thank you note in half-Chinese, half-English, saying I’m the nicest teacher and the mafen was delicious. Touching.

During the lunch break I made a huge pot of creamy seafood pasta with broccoli. It was delicious. I rubbed my belly in satisfaction, like one of those Buddha statues. And to sweeten the deal even more, the school said the work day would end at 3 PM, so my afternoon was very short.

I got home and relaxed, watching random stuff on YouTube. Then I opened FL Studio and Audacity, two audio mixing softwares, and made music. The music I make is pure shit and barely can be called listenable, but it’s a lot of fun to plug-and-play with all the instruments, pitch, tempo, and all the effects I do trial-and-error with. I’m trying to make grindcore, but it just sounds like a giant mechanical beast farting.

The girlfriend came just as I was about to go walk the animals, so we went together. I went to bed fairly early, a big day ahead of me.

Chapter 272

Once again, the sky was a thick banana pudding color, no idea what it’s about. Maybe dust. I brought the cat along, riding in my shirt pocket, and once I got to the square with old grampas and grandmas doing taichi I put him down so he can walk around. A woman walking her poodle said she’d seen a bunch of kittens like mine behind one of the buildings in our complex. Maybe it’s the family he got estranged from on the day I picked him up, bloodied and traumatized. The girlfriend said she’d also spotted an adult cat who looks exactly like him, sniffing around our building’s entrance. Maybe the mother. She was with the dog at the time, who caused the cat to dart away, never to be seen again. That gets us to wonder what should we do, should we find the kitten’s family and hand him back, now that he’s recovered from his wounds? Or keep him, knowing that it’s likely not forever? He seems happy with us, but if the longer he gets used to the indoors cushy life, the least likely he could readapt to his stray predator roots.

I got to work, and now, not only do my officemates leave the doors open, but they also opened a window, which causes air currents to slam the doors. Would that make them remember to close the door when leaving and entering? I’d say fat chance. I had three grade-12 classes in the morning, and in the break I checked homework and wrote a quiz for the eleventh-graders. I also volunteered to review new releases on next week’s Metal Minded podcast, my friend sent me the list of albums to listen to, and I started with Rivers Of Nihil. It’s some very pretentious proggy music with a few death metal passages, the kind of stuff I’d never listen to willingly otherwise, but I’ll give it a honest assessment. Too bad the album is over an hour long, I feel like that’s asking a bit much from potential listeners.

At lunchtime I finished the R. n’ S. and watched political analysis videos and then listened to Olivier Aubin-Mercier’s podcast, finally he got GSP on as a guest. It was nice, but what I like about OAM’s podcast is hearing stories from MMA and other combat sports athletes and GSP has been on so many interviews over the years that he didn’t really come up with anything unheard before, aside from a recent development about a possible boxing exhibition against Oscar De La Hoya that didn’t materialize.

About ten minutes before I was to go back to work, it started raining hard. Good, it will clear whatever yellow shit is floating around in the air, but it also means I’ll get soaked on the bicycle ride back. I put my work clothes in a bag and rode there in shorts and a raincoat.

In the afternoon I only had one lesson, with Catatonic Class. I usually start with an energetic “Good morning!” or “Good afternoon!”, and expect a response, which signals the start of the lesson and also serves as a rapport-establishing greeting. With them, I always get a dead awkward silence in return so I don’t even bother anymore, I just jump straight into it. I give back the energy I receive, and if I get none, well then it will be a boring lecture with picked volunteers to answer questions, rather than a more participative approach that works with other groups. It went okay, the skill they had to demonstrate was to draft an electron configuration, and it’s quite systematic, something their Asian brains can do well. The logic to get to the systematic method and the vocabulary around is a tougher nut to crack, but once they do know how to apply it, they can do it quite well. Then I finished writing the quiz, while listening to a black metal radio show. The theme was the Newfoundland scene, and there were some pretty good bands in there.

I got home, ate a bowl of yogurt with chocolate protein powder, raisins and nuts, and kicked back with my animals. Then I went to train BJJ. A great time was had by all. I started a roll in mounted position on the Italian blue belt and stayed on top for about two minutes, I managed to avoid being swept but he sa
w my submission attempts from a mile away and defended them all. Then he eventually bridged, flipped me and tapped me out in fifteen seconds. There are levels to this shit.

I got home, took the dog out for a lap of the block on my skateboard, and cooked dinner. I heated jerk chicken wings in the oven, alongside some calzones the girlfriend brought me. It was delicious.

Chapter 271

I took the animals out. The sky had a thick yellowish hue, and you could look at the sun without getting blinded, it was just a circle peeking between two high-rise apartment buildings. It reminded me of the old days, where air pollution could be a serious problem, especially in Jinan.

The dog and the cat seem to get along quite well, in fact, the dog seems to have matured a bit now that he has a little brother. So I left them both in the living room and they curled on the couch together.

I got to work and made some barley tea. I just bought the bag at a small store and was excited to try it. Man, my life must be pretty mundane when that counts as a highlight and even something to look for. Simple pleasures and all that. Better that than a wide open pit of depression, toxicity and despair.

So with that attitude in mind, and no real reasons to spoil my good mood otherwise, I didn’t get phased too much when the internet in the office gargled donkey shit. My VPN couldn’t stay connected for more than half a second, and it’s not the VPN’s problem by itself, more the fact that the school is cheap and likely paid for the cheapest data bundle, for a four-story building occupied by at least a hundred office drones. It’s the end of the month, perhaps they reached the end of the high-speed allowance and now we’re getting some useless 2G crap.

But like I said I can’t let that get to me, instead of listening to music from YouTube to drown the noise of the office, I played what was saved on my hard drive. I don’t have much on there, so I ended up listening to the first two albums by Bleach twice. I like Bleach a lot, their noisy, grindy punk rock mixed with quirky Japanese deviancy and high-pitched female energy is great and their whole catalog is excellent, just that I have to remind myself to save a few more albums on there.

Aside from that, well, I taught my classes like I’m supposed to. I had great fun. Another reason why the looming dark cloud of repatriation scares me somewhat... I like being a high school teacher, but don’t want to be a high school teacher in Quebec. 怎么办？

Lunch and dinner consisted of a big bowl of R. n’ S. I added eggs, and had the presence of mind to break them in a bowl first, one of them was filled with a disgusting dark brown sludge that almost made me puke on the spot. I won’t buy those crappy small white defective eggs from the stinky market, next time I’ll get the healthier-looking big brown ones. At night I rested, for the first time in four days. The DOMS was settling in, and a general sense of fatigue. I ate a lot of nourishing food and watched random stuff on YouTube, and then fired up Mount & Blade: Warband. I stopped after ten minutes, I got to a plateau in the game where I have a lot of money, run a good mercenary army that can crush enemies in battles and sieges but if I want to get to the next level I have to learn stuff like diplomacy n’ shit. Tedious. Ah well, it was fun, and in the future I might play again here and there. I watched a Hip-Hop Evolution documentary and was in bed by 20:30.

Chapter 270

Another day another dollar. I had a lot of classes and they mostly went well. Some students mildly piss me off at times but the vast majority of what my job entails is very low-friction. The principal handed me his observation report, and it was very positive, effusive even. I like the principal, and I think he likes me too. That’s nice. Having a shitty relationship with a boss who hates you for existing and whom you hate for being a racist evil bitchdemoncunt from Hell can grind your mental well-being to a fine powder, I can say that from first-hand experience.

I rode home for lunch, making sure to slow down and give a wide berth to the blind corner I have to turn right at just before arriving home, out of habit, since there are often fucknuggets on scooters who cut that corner. I rode past a kindergarden, or maybe even a pre-K nursery, and there were five tiny toddlers sat on plastic stools waving Chinese flags while their teachers took pictures. It was adorable and filled me with a huge dose of 爱国主义. I got home, ate a tomato sandwich and scrambled eggs with Laoganma chili sauce. I’m a simple man, sure I like having access to a wide variety of foods but I feel I could eat those two things for lunch every day.

After another uneventful afternoon, I made it back home and took a nap. The baseball-sized kitten nestled himself between my shoulder and my jaw, but I was getting too ticklish so I moved him a bit. Also he has this off-putting cat smell, compared to the dog smell I kinda find comforting now.

I woke up and was still tired and all sore from last night’s workout. But I dragged myself to the gym and felt better once we started grappling. I plugged my mp3 player on the big speaker and put on Method Man’s Tical album, he’s my favorite of all the Wu-Tang Clan rappers, or dare I say the only one I don’t find very overrated. Fight me.We practiced half-guard sweeps and bottom side control escapes and then had some nice exhausting rolls. A good time was had by all.

I got home after a detour to the park to link up with the girlfriend and the animals, as per our now well-oiled routine. I fried eggplant chunks and tomatoes, and ate the leftovers from the Sichuan food the girlfriend had ordered. The last two fights on the UFC card were for championships, Valentina Shevchenko decimated Lauren Murphy like she does to every poor soul signing the contract to fight her, and then Alexander Volkanovski and Brian Ortega had a war for the 145-pound belt. The Australian (who walked in to the awesome track “Do you come from a land down under?”) wasn’t a very popular or highly regarded champ, not his fault really, just that his victory over former champ Max Holloway and the ensuing rematch were so razor-close they could have gone either way. Now he gained a lot of respect by toughing through some seriously tight submission attempts by Ortega, before beating him to a deformed pulp and retaining his title. Ortega took some serious damage in his two shots at the title, and now he’ll have to fight hard to keep his spot among the top of the shark tank that is the featherweight division.

Chapter 269

Up at 6:30, to go to work on this Sunday, day of the Lord. I walked the animals and then took my sweet time to get ready, thinking I can arrive at school at 8 instead of several minutes ahead because I don’t have first period. But then I remembered that the schedule changed, and hauled ass to arrive in time. At the bicycle and scooter parking, I ran into the English teacher I switched classes with, and she said she in fact wants to teach first period, because she has errands to run after. Perfect. So I could start my day slowly.

I walked into the office and was welcomed by the crisp cold air coming out of the AC units, in contrast to the maple syrupy thick humid summer atmosphere still overstaying its welcome in late September. Despite the giant, almost passive-aggressive CLOSE THE DOOR sign made of four A4 sheets stuck together, the doors were wide open, as always. Aren’t the people I share my office with chemistry teachers?! Aren’t they familiar with the concept of energy transfer? Or hell, in what IQ percentile do you have to be to not know that an open door defeats the purpose of air conditioning? I didn’t say anything, I know better than that.

I had a class with twelfth-graders, one desk was empty.

“Where is [her name]?”

“She’s absent”, her neighbor replied.

The Chinese constantly say the most Captain Obvious of things. Like “What are you drinking?” “A beverage” or “What are you playing?” “Cards”, I wonder where it all comes from, whether they’re trolling me or it’s their lack of proper socialization. Or maybe they don’t have this typically American habit of making small talk, I know some Northern European cultures also find that weird and prefer to wallow in awkward misanthropic silence. The newer generations will spend less time in school and are more likely to have siblings, maybe they will develop into better conversationalists.

I then had a lab, and the principal observed me. It went really well, it was the sixth time in two weeks I went through the same content. Boom.

I had shrimp noodles (no mushrooms) for lunch and watched some YouTube videos that I had already queued, knowing that the front page would be loaded with spoilers from the ongoing UFC event. I watched an analysis of the trial of evil white supremacist Kyle Rittenhouse, the 17-year-old who killed some left-wing protestors in self-defense at one of those riots last year. Then I headed back to work and taught Crazy Class. One girl had a little stuffed chicken on her desk, in fact the number of Teddy bears and other fluffy animals in the classrooms is quite alarmingly high, for 17- and 18-year-olds. Some are kept as pillows for when they nap at their desk, but many are just kept around like what very small kids tend to do. I just shrug now when I see a twelfth-grader carrying her Teddy bear around. Anyway, back to the chicken, one of the boys in the back said “Teacher! Teacher! Look! It’s a little-chicken-chicken!” which is a Chinglish translation of a slang word for male genitals. I gave him a look that non-verbally said “Oh, you!” The lesson itself went okay I guess, but I was also wondering why they’re in an advanced chemistry class instead of, I don’t know, elsewhere doing something more aligned with their aptitudes and interests. Oh, one-size-fits-all education.

I went home and watched the UFC prelims. MMA’s nerdiest fighter Roxanne Modafferi broke the record for the most professional fights by a female athlete and lost to a stoic and sinewy Brazilian. Philadelphia cop Chris Daukaus hit Dagestani brute Shamil Abdurakhimov so hard, half a pint of thick white spit flew off his mouth. Dan Hooker went through insane hoops to leave New Zealand (and he’ll have to do a lengthy quarantine when he flies back to his remote island) but made the most of it by dominating Nasrat Haqparast, an Afghan-German prospect who trains with GSP. And then the bantamweight clash between Marlon Moraes and Merab Dvalishvili was pure insanity, the kind of fight that makes you wonder why the hell people watch hockey or basketball or whatever other boring-ass sport rather than MMA. The Georgian almost got knocked out by the Ninja-Turtle-muscular Brazilian and was on rollerskates, trying not to die, but then he turned it around with his wrestling and went full Donkey Kong. In the second round he dominated, throwing over 100 unanswered strikes on the ground, on the way to a TKO. What do they put in the water in Georgia?! 135 pounds is the best UFC division by far now, so many bonerific match-ups to make, imagine if Triple C was still around.

Then I went to the gym and did deadlifts and other pulls. I alphamaled a middle-aged woman by warming up with her max, knowing that the sneering unit of a personal trainer with a mullet could probably do the same with my 315-pound one-rep max. At some point I went to get my water bottle at the same time a guy put his phone on the table, and like the nosy bastard I am, I peeked at the screen. Through his Bluetooth wireless headphones, he was listening to a podcast with the title 美国内战 (USA inner war). The screen went black before I could read more, but it got me wondering: I listen to Clown World news and other analysis of the gangrenous, dying western culture all the time, there must be a lot of Chinese people who are also interested in that topic. My Chinese level is hovering just below the level I’d need to fully understand and enjoy such content, but I’m very curious to see what would an informed and astute observer would say about all the so-called woke shit, civil unrest, pandering by celebrities, ethnomasochism, degeneracy and self-destructive tendencies. He would either be utterly confused or rubbing his hands in excitement.

I went back home and the girlfriend was doing calligraphy.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at your pole-dancing class?”

“I have to do this stupid homework by tomorrow”

I knew her Confucian bully of a boss constantly gives her extra tasks to do, but I had no idea she’s also forced to do calligraphy. I thought she was doing it for fun. Hmmm, maybe the West is crumbling, but I’m still glad I wasn’t born Chinese.

She took won tons from the freezer and boiled them, and I cooked some chunks of beef in a teriyaki sauce. I watched the main card of the UFC event. Jessica “Smasher Of Worlds” Andrade beat the hell out of Cynthia Calvillo, Andrade is one of my favorite fighters, I don’t want to sound sexist but she fights like a man, and no matter how athletic her opponents are, they seem flabbergasted at how hard she hits, not unlike fellow Brazilian lesbian goddess of violence Amanda Nunes. Now she is in a weird position, being clearly too good for every 125-pound woman but having been decimated by the champion already. I her post-fight interview, she recognized that, and said she wants to go back to 115 pounds and fight Rose Namajunas or Zhang Weili. I’m sure they’re thrilled at the idea of possibly having to face that berserker again, yeah they’ve beaten her but it’s not as if they were not in grave danger.

The heavyweight matchup between Blaydes and Rozenstruik was a boring one, as the American wrestler controlled and blanketed the Surinamese kickboxer. And then it was the return of Nick Fucking Diaz, cult heroes among cult heroes. It was his first fight in eight years or something crazy like that, I thought he’d never come back, and as much as I and any fan who was watching the sport back when he was slapping fools left and right were saddened about it, it was also for the best, as he and his brother Nate often went on record saying how much they hate fighting and especially the whole media circus around it. His opponent was Robbie Lawler, whom they also dusted off for this old man fight, a rematch seventeen years in the making! The fight was very weird, with Diaz opening with the clumsiest of spinning kicks, he who usually shuns anything but boxing and jiu-jitsu. He had a dadbod, in contrast to his usual thin and long frame, and though his unorthodox pitter-patter boxing attack was surprisingly on point, he was slow and would frequently disengage rather than pressure his foe until breaking point like he used to do. The biggest surprise was how he just quit in the second round after getting knocked down, instead of showing the Diaz almost inhuman toughness and grit. Still, all things considered, he didn’t look that bad, and probably made a ton of money. It’s a young man sport and time has passed him by like it does for every combat sport athlete.

Chapter 268

Up at 7, hard to sleep in when a triangle-faced animal pokes you and begs to go outside. I brought the cat along, so he gets used to the great outdoors, but since he walks extremely slowly, I carried him on my shoulder most of the time. That got the gossipping old women who always stare at me when I pass by to chuckle and ask me questions about that strange small feline.

The dog still plays a bit rough, nibbling at his brother’s ears and neck and limbs and sometimes even throwing him. The cat replies with whiny high-pitched sounds, but he also fights back as much as his lemon size allows, and is often seen instigating by walking towards the dog and slapping him. So it’s all good, I like that they get along so well.

Then I had a Skype call with my dad. We caught up, exchanged news, and talked about geopolitics and the future of China. The thesis he sustains is that as China grows economically and politically, the USA is unlikely to sit back and watch, and while full-blown warfare is probably not going to happen, a Cold War-like situation will unfold. China will isolate itself from Europe and the American sphere, will strenghten its own sphere of influence, and the relationship between the two countries and their allies will turn more and more sour. Therefore, it might be time to look for an exit route of sorts, as being stuck in the middle of all of this wouldn’t be the best situation. I don’t think it’s alarmist, the writing has been on the wall for a long time, and between this possible scenario or the opposite, in which China’s economy turns out to be a crumbling house of cards and foreign residents get caught in the period of instability that follows a serious economic crash, it has been clear since Day One that I can’t stay in China forever. One year turned into two and six and then twelve and I’m still here, but yeah for a variety of reasons it is time to look at the dreaded repatriation.

The thing is for now (it hasn’t always been the case) I’m very happy with my life in China, I have a girlfriend and a dog and material comfort, and repatriation entails tons of unpleasant changes, like having to eventually pay unreasonable of money for housing, a car, a cell phone, things that are virtually free here with how I set up my life. Also having to swim through a sea of bureaucratic red tape for the girlfriend’s permanent residency status, though after a conversation with a pal of mine who works in the immigration consultancy sector, it’s not nearly as bad as I initially thought (on paper!). But it would also be a welcome change of pace, the chance to be among my family members and friends, and a good base to travel in parts of Quebec and Canada I don’t know well. So can I really bitch about having it good here, and having to choose between this and an ultimately equally good option?

I trust my dad’s insight on that one, he gets his information from sources beyond what the average barely literate yokel reads, and is one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. Even though he does believe communism might work... I feel like if a boxer goes 0-35, with nearly all the losses being devastating KOs, it’s time to hang up the gloves.

He also told me about what’s happening in French politics, an essayist I’d never heard of before called Eric Zemmour threw his hat in the presidential race, and my father suggested I watch an interview on one of those typically French TV shows where instead of debating like civilised people, they yell at one another and they never manage to finish their sentences. The two interviewers, an uppity condescending old bearded leftoid and a sour-faced woman, had a clear negative view of Zemmour to begin with, due to his rather strong nationalistic opinions, including one I’d never even been close to encountering in the American and British politics I mostly follow, where he says that children born on children soil should have French given names, like Zinedine Zidane should be called Jean Zidane or Thierry Zidane. I read up a bit more on him, and aside from the shovelfuls of criticism he gets from leftoids and wokels, he’s also accused by the right of being likely to dilute the vote to the conservatives and the Front National should he decide to run.

I was severely sleep-deprived, so I took a nap in the late afternoon with my two animals. Then I went to the gym. There was a new guy coming to try jiu-jitsu, he was quite tall and strong but he was completely useless on the ground, pretty much everything he tried was a waste of energy, even against a noob white belt like me. I’ve been at it for over a year now, on and off, so I picked up quite a lot of that pyjama murder simulation game. The new guy liked it though, and wants to buy a gi and come train regularly. I rolled with the guys, the big Kazakh is back at it after nursing an injury, and for the first time ever I managed to do something remotely offensive, sweeping him and taking his back but being unable to choke him due to him not having a neck. He flipped me and got back in my guard. A good time was had by all.

I went to the park to meet the girlfriend and the animals, and we walked home. I was super hungry, and devoured the quick German-style dinner of bratwursts, sauerkraut, pickles, olives and leftover French fries I quickly whipped up. I watched the new Dark Side Of The Ring, about a WCW and WWE closeted gay and bipolar wrestler who committed suicide. Dark indeed.

Chapter 267

I woke up early as always and took the dog out. The cat had been sleeping in the bathroom, and he took a nasty shit on the old bedsheet we gave him. I forgot how foul cat poop is compared to dog poop (that usually stays in cohesive little turds) and it made me question once again whether we should keep the little guy. But then I watched him stretch and take a few steps and my heart melted.

I had grade-12 classes and they went so-so. I’m trying to teach them to think logically and apply rational thinking to solve problems rather than just memorizing answers and doing stale repetitive practice but it’s too ingrained in their culture and possibly their DNA, who knows. The content of my lesson, noticing and analyzing trends in carboxylic acid pKa values, was all based on concepts we’d seen before, and I linked them all together.

At midday, I went home and quickly drank a protein shake before going back out with the animals. The cat could fit in my shirt pocket, and the leashed dog followed my bicycle. About 100 m away from the vet’s office, he braced himself and braked hard, recognizing the place he hates so much. I dragged him in. A young female vet and a male nurse immediately received me, calling the dog by his name. He was due for a shot of some sort according to his vaccination booklet, and they also checked the cat out. The vet gave him eye drops, said he’s fine, and doesn’t need shots until he’s a few months old at least. I bought a bag of cat food and a litter box and rode home. The rest of my lunch consisted of half a pomelo, almonds and cashews, I wanted a light meal for reasons that will be obvious in a few paragraphs.

I had two grade-11 classes in the afternoon. One with the strong group, and one with the self-proclaimed naocan class. Compared with the catatonic class, they are quite lively, prompt to make crude jokes (nothing blatantly disrespectful, in fact I do feel they like me quite a bit for joking along with them when it’s appropriate and a way to liven up my class rather than distract them) and ask questions when they don’t understand, which is often, with their limited English, limited academic ability and the content of my lessons that became a bit rougher, after an easy start to the semester. First we mostly reviewed stuff about subatomic particles, but now the electronic subshells and orbitals got them to look at me with question mark faces and say “Budong!” (I don’t understand). I appreciate their honesty and willingness to learn, so I repeated patiently and used all sorts of ways to get the point across, especially encouraging them to take notes, something a lot of them don’t do much and then wonder why they can’t answer my review questions. During the break, I wrote a homework paper I’ll print and give them, and included a bit more mindless practice that I normally do, thinking they need it.

I looked for something to listen, and settled on an album by The Kill, an Australian band churning out some furious grindcore. Then a friend of mine sent me a conversation between Tucker Carlson and Curtis Yarvin, a philosopher who goes by the pseudonym Mencius Moldbug. He’s been penning a bunch of essays online, I read a few of them back in the day but it’s written in a near-inscrutable jargon and obviously the product of a gigantic brain that my dumb ass can’t understand. I listened to half of it before it was time to head to class.

I got home and played with my animals for a bit, watching previews for the big UFC event coming up this weekend. Then I rode my skateboard to the shopping mall, meeting up with the girlfriend and a British-Chinese couple for a Korean fried chicken meal. It was great. Then we went to a pool hall, played two games of 8-ball, and I went to the bar. I got a beer from the fridge, my first in almost two weeks, and it made me all nauseous for some reason, perhaps the accumulated fatigue and big blob of greasy poultry distending my stomach. Still, I like going to the bar and having nice chats with fellow expats.

I rode home, listening to the awesome underground hip-hop gem from Genelec and Memphis Reigns. I was in bed after a quick shower and read a chapter from Michael Bisping’s book, he was talking about his detached retina that eventually lead him to lose his eye. Combat sports are no joke.

Chapter 266

I woke up at 6:30 and walked the dog. Everything was going the same way it usually goes, with the dog peeing and shitting in his regular spots, and as I was crossing the street, I saw a small kitten. He looks frightened as all hell, and blood caked his face. I picked him up and brought him home, thinking if I don’t do it, he’ll almost certainly die. I gave him a plate of milk with a few nuggets of wet dog food, and he voraciously ate, he must have been very hungry. Then he fell asleep on the bathroom floor. The dog was very curious, roughly poking the kitten with his triangle face and nibbling at his neck and ears, so I closed the bathroon door to keep them separated while I’m at work.

I had three labs scheduled. I like teaching labs, but it’s also draining and takes a lot of energy. In between periods I sat in the office, there was an ornate box of chocolates and nougat candy on my desk, which can only mean one of my coworkers is getting married. One of those little nuggets of Chinese culture I’m dropping daily for you, my dear readers (or reader).

I went home for lunch, and the dog was parked in front of the bathroom door, excitedly yelping, wanting to play with his tiny new sibling. I took the kitten out and held him in the palm of my hand. His left eye was closed shut, with a big purulent scab of dried blood, I wonder what happened and if he lost his eye for good. Hard to see when his face is about two inches wide. I also questioned what we should do with him, if we’ll nurse him back to health or adopt him.

Yeah, I’m very aware that just a few days ago I talked about the logistics of repatriating and leaving China. And now I’m considering having a cat, because he’s just too cute. His high-pitched meows and his slow, hesitating movements as he’s discovering sensations like walking on a cushioned couch were tugging hard at my heart strings, and I thought I couldn’t just abandon him. Pragmatically, I know I can’t save every animal on Earth, but when I’m face-to-face like that, it’s hard to say no. I sent the girlfriend a bunch of pictures and videos, we’ll talk about it later.

I also had a Skype conversation with my cousin, the one who equiped a van with living amenities. He and his girlfriend drove it to British Columbia, and new they were reunited with a guy from that area we hung out with on the island of Ko Tao in Thailand when our travel paths all intersected. We talked for about half an hour while I ate my lunch, it was really cool to catch up.

In the afternoon I was supposed to be observed, but there was a serious communication screw-up and the students didn’t show up to the lab until much later. The other lab teacher was already in class, and I was wondering if I even notified her of the temporary schedule change. So plan B, the students went back to the classroom, and the math teacher taught his lesson like it says on the regular timetable. I took ownership of the situation, but the principal didn’t seem to mind too much, and we rescheduled the observation.

At night there was an English speech competition in the auditorium. The principal had asked for volunteers to act as judges and I threw my name in, sure there are a few things I’d rather be doing with my Thursday evening but someone gotta go. Nineteen students from all grades gave their speech, some were a bit bland, about what they did during their summer holiday or about a general “Don’t give up!” message, but some were quite interesting and eye-opening, with a nationalist slant about the future of China, measures to encourage people to make more kids, and how Chinese youth should be encouraged to look up to scientists and generals rather than vapid boy bands and internet influencers. I enjoyed most of the speeches, some students have a pretty impressive command of English, but some stopped for a few seconds here and there, trying to remember their memorized script.

There were also ceremonies where students got scholarships, and a short musical interlude. It was over at 8, and I headed straight to the gym, with my changes of clothes. I had a pretty good workout and then went home. The girlfriend was doing calligraphy, with the unnamed kitten gingerly walking around on her desk. She had washed his face and as it turns out, his left eye is not permanently damaged, though it’s a bit swollen and surrounded by cuts and scrapes. 

Chapter 265

Up bright and early to go earn my rice like the good working ant I am. I’m trying to even find one thing worth mentioning about my work day. Perhaps it just went really smoothly, or maybe I’m turning senile like Joe Biden. I had to draft a detailed lesson plan for tomorrow’s observation, I gave a few lessons, and I watched the skateboarding club.

At night I went to play badminton. The BJJ guys were busy and couldn’t come train, but I felt like moving a bit. I stopped at a park on the ride back to do pull-ups and dips, and that’s how my night was spent. The girlfriend cooked some beef chunks in a salty sauce with fennel and weird Chinese spices, it hit the spot. And that’s pretty much it.

Chapter 264

Up fairly early, the girlfriend left at 8 to visit a friend and go on a shopping trip in another city. We went outside together to let the dog run around a bit, and I bought a few groceries. I felt like eating a tomato sandwich and we didn’t have bread.

I got home, made my tomato sandwich, and browsed the web. People were talking about the Canadian federal election, I didn’t know it was unfolding now, I thought the vote was in October. I got on YouTube and played the live election coverage on Radio-Canada. Justin Trudeau and the Liberal Party won, followed by the Conservatives, and the other parties got a small handful of seats. All the leaders made speeches, Yves-François Blanchet from the Bloc spoke exclusively in French but all the others spoke in 80% English with a few sentences in robotic French thrown in, rather than, I don’t know, doing two speeches. I’m bilingual and used to code-switching, but for Anglos, it must be such a strange thing.

“We’re committed to serve this great country and its people, blablabla, political cliché phrases, blablabla, [incomprehensible mumbo-jumbo], for all Canadians of all races and creeds, blablabla, we will come back stronger, [more incomprehensible mumbo-jumbo], in these times of crisis, blablabla...”

I turned it off halfway through Trudeau’s speech, which was boring as shit. So apparently they’re back where they started, a few minor changes aside. The whole mascarade cost 600 million in taxpayer money, as reported. What a waste. Xi Jinping would have taken that money, which corresponds to roughly 3 billion yuan, and built a whole self-sustaining city in the desert, in the span of a week. Or maybe a whole park of windmills, or an artificial island in the South Sea. Democracy is grossly overrated.

Halfway through one of the speeches, I heard a loud crack coming from the kitchen. I went to investigate, and couldn’t find the source of the noise. I had a pot on the stove, slowly simmering with chicken carcass bits to make broth, and now I started noticing a smell of rotten eggs. Maybe it’s something about the gas then? That could be disastrous, so I turned it off, looked at the gas line, and couldn’t find anything. Then I found it, one of the eggs in the egg rack had fucking spontaneously exploded, splashing some disgusting brown slime everywhere. The smell was enough to gag a maggot. I threw the defective egg out of the window, it was mostly intact, just the top had blown off like a valve, and thank god most of the sickeningly disgusting rotten insides were still encased in the shell. Then I cleaned each individual egg, I’ll have to be vigilant and check to see if they’re not also rotten before I use them.

I chilled for the rest of the day, writing and listening to podcasts. I saw a link on YouTube to an interview with prolific French cartoonist Marsault and listened to the whole thing, it was very interesting. His drawings have made a bit of a splash on the internet, due to the violence and right-wing slant to them, and also how he caustically portrays the Clown World we live in now. I knew he was a hard-worker, but I raised my eyebrows when he said that at some point he was drawing up to 20 hours a day. Some people show insane commitment to their craft, and that’s how they excel.

I put on some music, I have a huge list of death metal releases but I didn’t feel like going through them, so I went on the YouTube channel My Analog Journal and clicked randomly on a compilation of Eastern European jazz and disco. I’m such a goddamn hipster. Some tracks were cool but many were strange as hell, including a Bee Gees cover in Polish. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Z Nami Się Baw! Z Nami Się Baw!” Then the next one was titled Latin Influenced South East Asia, I have no idea where those music collectors shop to find such obscure vinyls.

The girlfriend came back, loaded with boxes of shoes or clothes or whatever girls buy when they go on shopping sprees, reassuring me and saying none of it was expensive. Hey, it’s her money. I made a Thai soup with chicken broth, coconut milk, hot peppers, ginger, lemongrass stems, bean sprouts, shrimp, tofu and egg noodles. We ate it while watching a movie titled 99 Francs, I saw it when it came out in 2007 but thought about downloading it and watching it again, after reading some other works by Beigbeder. It’s the story of a hedonist who works for an advertising agency, told in the first person and constantly breaking the fourth wall, really trippy and caustic. Recommended.

While she did the dishes, I took the dog out, and then did 50 minutes of yoga. It felt wonderful. I was in bed before 10.

Chapter 263

I woke up around 10, and relaxed a bit. I didn’t do much during the early part of the day, I read, I wrote, I listened to Metallica’s ...And Justice For All album, on a YouTube channel called The Bass Channel. One of the criticisms of that classic album is that the bass sound is very thin, and one guy played along, adding some crunch to the tracks. I had never listened to the album in its entirety to this day, and it’s pretty good, a mix of thrash metal and the radio-friendly hard rock that Metallica started drifting towards.

A cleaning lady came and tidied up our apartment. I alway felt weird about getting someone to do that but it’s a win-win, she makes a living doing that (though her fee is extremely cheap) and our kitchen is now spic n’ span, she went deep into crevices I wasn’t able or willing to reach.

After she left, I cranked up the death metal. I played an album by Fulci, an Italian band obsessed with zombie movies. Like their 2019 offering, I found it frustrating, the metal parts are groovy and guttural and remind me of Avulsed, but it’s also full of filler, in this case, a lot of creepy keyboard music.

Then I watched the UFC. The first four fights were great, ending in TKOs, except the female flyweight between Ariane Lipski and a tough German newcomer who got knocked down in each round but kept coming. Then I headed to the gym. The room with puzzle mats where we usually train was empty, I sent messages, and turned out the other guys were not coming. Ah well, I’ll just go do some deadlifts then. The gym was quiet, only three young Chinese guys in basketball jerseys, and one was already setting up the bar. I worked in. We got to 315 pounds, and though I can one-rep it fairly easily, I ripped my hands badly. I closed the flaps of skin and finished my workout.

I got back home and the girlfriend and I went on a long walk with the dog. The weather was very pleasant, and we had a long talk about yesterday’s incident, and where we are going as a couple. Everything’s gonna be all right.

Chapter 262

I woke up at 10:30, holy hell, I must have been in serious need of restorative sleep. I might have even slept longer if the girlfriend and the dog didn’t come to poke me awake, leaving me just enough time to take a shit and shower and get dressed to go play poker at her friend’s place.

I took the wheel, and plugged my mp3 player with the aux cord. It’s been malfunctioning recently, the sound it produces is all tinny and hollow, and you have to twist it in the outlet to even get a signal. I ragequit, yanked the shit-fucking aux cord out, snapped it in two and threw it on the floor. The girlfriend also snapped, and started yelling at me. As I drove out of the underground parking, I just whispered “Shhhhh... why are you shouting? I’ll pick up the pieces later” but she just kept howling over that most trivial of things. I rewatched a few classic Breaking Bad episodes recently, and Mary's and Skylark's script seems to exclusively consist of “Nag! Nagnagnag! Nag! Nag! NAG! NAG!” No wonder Hank and Walt found solace and comfort in a world of gun-toting Mexican psychopaths and strung-out druggos who'd stab you without warning for a fix. A few blocks later, she apologized, and said she shouldn’t overreact like that. Our relationship has been mostly if not near-totally harmonious through the years, because of open communication and admitting when we’re wrong. I also apologized for chimping out at that stupid piece of audio equipment.

We got to her friend’s place, ate a meal of Burger King and stir-fried goodies over rice, and played poker all afternoon. We brought them some of the pomegranates that the school gave me, and another guest brought mangoes. After the poker games, they were all bunched up in the solarium, talking about whatever Chinese people talk about, and I ate a mango over the sink.

“What are you doing?! Those mangoes are supposed to be a gift for my parents!”, the host said, pointing at the big ornate gift box. Everybody laughed, and I proposed to replace the lost mango with one of the pomegranates we brought. Ni vu, ni connu.

They live in the south part of town, so we thought we might as well swing by Metro and stock up on some of the imported groceries we need. I bought six cartons of grapefruit juice, now that I quit beer I need something tasty to quench my thirst when water doesn’t do it. When it was time to pay, I extended my undefeated streak at picking the slowest lane, and the cashier was particularly useless, constantly botching the payment operation of the man in front of me, who had a cart loaded with Hennessy bottles and nothing else. Maybe he’s the assistant to the producer of a hip-hop video.

Back home, we put the groceries in their place. The girlfriend saw the chunk of beef I put in the fridge yesterday, and started screeching at me, saying I should have put it in the freezer, or else it will go bad like the steak I forgot in the fridge for four days last week. “There’s no more room in the freezer! I’ll cook it tonight” “BUT IT WILL GO BAD!!! RAAAAH!!!” I opened the freezer and showed the drawers, filled to the brim with the meat her mother sent us. “The. Freezer. Is. Full. I’ll cook it tonight.” She threw the meat chunk at me, grabbed her keys, and stormed out.

Nonplussed, I grabbed my bag and headed to the gym like I was planning to anyway. I detoured by the car park, and saw she had driven off. She’s that mad, uh? I sent a message asking where she is, and twenty minutes later, between two sets on the bench press, she replied by saying we should break up. Fucken hell. I tried to call her, no reply. “Come back home, we’ll discuss”

I wondered if I should interrupt my workout but decided to go through with it, even though I now had a boulder of shit on my mind. I rode back home, and she was curled up in bed, crying. We had a long talk, it feels a bit weird to write all of it down on a public platform like this, even though nobody reads it except my dad, but it’s also quite cathartic. She was telling me how she’s scared I will stop loving her if she keeps throwing tantrums like that, and how it will be hard to reconcile the fact that we both want to go live close to our families, who are on two opposite ends of the world. She was speaking to me in Chinese, as we do most of the time, and she would be sobbing so hard that the second half of her sentences would just trail off. It’s true that I’ve been feeling a bit homesick, which is rare for me, I like China and I like my job and I’m used to be away but my niece just turned two, and seeing the pictures shared by my family made me a bit sad she’s growing up not knowing me, I’ve only seen her once, when she was six months old. Among other little pangs of doubt that always pop up in the minds of long-term expatriates, wondering if it’s time to go home.

As I was sitting there trying to get the girlfriend to come back to Earth, I was astonished at how I couldn’t truly feel sad. I was mostly looking at the situation with my pragmatic detachment, weighing the pros and cons of having her in my life, wondering who would keep the dog (who, bless his little soul, was just there with us on the bed, jumping around, wagging his tail and being oblivious of what was happening), what I’d do after she’s gone, and other practical things. If that is what’s meant to be, so be it. Then, she changed her tune, begging me not to leave her, saying she’ll move to Quebec with me, we’ll make it work. I don’t want to make it sound like I don’t love her, I do, I really do, and I value immensely the love she has for me and how we’ve been together for almost five years now. I want her to stay.

We took the dog out for a walk, and kept talking. I said I still love her, but now, for the first time, I’m foreseeing the possibility that maybe one day I won’t. Terrible, maybe, but I have to be honest, if she can blow a fuse like that over a pound of meat, what could happen if we’re subjected to a much more important source of stress? And if she’s willing to just drive off and give me the silent treatment like that, it’s a serious breach of trust. Blind love that lasts forever and never meets obstacles is only in romance novels and the minds of insane, overly attached people, and I had to get it off my chest if we want to move forward and look in the rear-view mirror at this bump in our relationship, like all relationships hit at some point. Hopefully we’ll come back stronger out of it, like the saying goes.

Back home, I ate the leftover chicken and put the beef in the slow cooker with onions, ginger, coconut milk and all sorts of spices to make a curry. I kissed the sleeping girlfriend’s forehead when I got to bed. Everything will be alright.

I started reading Michael Bisping’s autobiography. It’s pretty good so far. MMA fighters’ memoirs are literary candy to me.

Chapter 261

Up early for this Saturday work day. Whoopdeedoo. I walked the dog, and took the garbage out. We produce a prodigious amount of garbage, for such a small household. I’m trying hard to not waste or consoom too much but every damn thing I buy comes quadruple-packed in layers upon layers of plastic, styrofoam or cardboard. Even when I go to the stinky market and tell them to stop putting every damn piece of vegetable in separate bags, I get met with GUUURRRH-HURRH-HURRH “neurodivergent” throaty laughs, to the point that I stopped bothering. A lot of environmentalist talking points are pure cringe at best and a Trojan Horse for communism at worst, but still, mankind could do better, and there’s gotta be a tipping point on the near horizon, where we’ll dwell among mountains of unmanageable garbage like people in New Delhi or New York.

I listened to the Boyscast on my way to work, it was hilarious and a good commentary on many absurd aspects of the world we live in now, as always. I had two classes, the one with the weak grade-eleven group went really well, the content was a bit difficult but I tried my best to explain it clearly and stuck around to answer questions. The students thanked me, and I was in a great mood after that.

I rode back home, which involves crossing a boulevard. There used to be only a crosswalk, but the Powers-That-Be, in their grand magnanimity, added a traffic light to smooth things up, especially since it’s right by a high school. I waited for it to turn green and as I crossed, some dumbass girl on an e-bike rolled into the intersection, against the traffic, completely ignoring that she now had a red light. Thankfully, she got rammed by a SUV before she’d hit me. It all happened at low speed, like most of the hundreds or thousands of accidents I’ve been witnessing in twelve years in China, so she wasn’t hurt badly, though she milked it by standing up slowly and pouting. I yelled at her that there’s a red light, and thought about sticking around to set the record straight in case she calls the cops and tries to extort money from SUV guy (who wasn’t in the wrong whatsoever) but going to eat my lunch was much more desirable.

I had a double with a grade-12 class. Six or seven students were absent, some told me beforehand that they have to go apply for a passport or meet with a counselor, but many were AWOL. I shrugged and went on with the review and practice. Any attempt at getting the head teachers or students to communicate ahead of time is met with a nod and a “嗯，嗯，嗯”, and then more often than not nothing changes. I know better than letting something trivial like that ruin my day.

Not to say that the opposite is not appreciated though; the strong group of eleventh-graders sent a representative to tell me about 20 of them will miss my class to prepare for a Model UN event. Cool. I was planning on giving them free time anyway, they’re far ahead of the other groups. I see them for one extra class a week to cover for the economics teacher still stuck in quarantine, so I’m wondering whether I should keep ploughing forward or slow down a bit.

I got home and chilled for a bit before going to BJJ practice. I got there a bit ahead, and the Italian blue belt was teaching two tiny kids, I changed into my gi and helped out. They were two siblings, a boy aged 6 and a girl aged 3, we taught them grips and positioning and kept it playful, the girl was especially funny, with her minuscule hand with fingers barely long enough to grab my collar. A good time was had by all, and they gave me Skittles at the end. Then I practiced with the Italian, we had some nice rolls and in between round he commented on things I did right or wrong.

I walked out, and as I was unlocking my bicycle, two middle-aged cops came rolling by on white and blue police scooters. They put the bikes on their stands, and walked in the bank. I noticed they didn’t take the keys out, and anyone could just hop on the bikes and bail. China is a seemingly high-trust society, and I constantly see cases of people leaving things unattended and not worrying about potential thieves. Back in my Tim days I felt the opposite, people would tell me to clutch my bags when on the train or sitting in a restaurant, but now I often don’t even bother locking my bike, and when I do, it’s only with a chain going through the back wheel.

Back home, I put a chicken in the oven and took a walk with the dog. I looked up ways to ensure the roast chicken has a nice crispy skin, so I salted its exterior and cooked it at the maximum temperature my small oven could muster. The skin was crispy alright, but the meat was also chewy and dry. Can’t win ‘em all. I ate my poultry in front of the TV, watching the latest AEW PPV at a friend’s recommendation. I watched two matches, at the end of the one with John Moxley and some Japanese guy, Minori Suzuki came out to massive cheers and suplexed the American former deathmatch madman.

Chapter 260

Up at 6:30, walk with the dog and a bit of stretching outside. I blasted an album by Dödsrit, another great band I started listening to this year, in a crust/black metal vein, two genres that weirdly mix very well. Later, at work, I listened to two albums by Canadian band Iskra, in a similar vein. One was more black and was magnificient and incredibly violent, one was more crust and I didn’t like it too much, the vocals (presumably from a different vocalist) got on my nerves.

I had a day packed with classes, and there were a few funny moments. One kid in the front row pulled out a hip flask from his backpack and took a swig, my eyes widened and I stopped what I was saying mid-sentence, to the hilarity of his classmates. It was engraved with the USSR banner, and another kid said “It’s vodka!” Turns out it was just water, what a strange choice for a drinking vessel.

There are two rather weak grade-eleven groups, one is perpetually catatonic, but the other one has quite a few lively souls in it. I walked in the classroom, and two girls were wrestling, under the high-pitched screams of their classmates. While I set up my stuff on the front desk, I asked them with a smile and a shake of my head if they’re crazy, and one kid replied they’re the naocan class, a word I’m not sure how to perfectly translate, but it’s something like a severe mental disorder. No doubt they were not in the mood to sit through a lesson on electron orbitals, but with a few stupid jokes thrown in there and by eliciting their participation, I made it an instructive one.

There’s a three-day weekend coming up for Mid-Autumn Festival, but it starts only Sunday. One of those good ol’ Chinese deals where you work one extra day to get two days off in return. The school also gave us a box of mooncakes, some kind of flaky pastry either containing meat or a red bean paste, and a box of pomegranates. I got home and ate one mooncake with each of the fillings, and cut down one of my pomegranates. It’s messy as hell to eat but whatever, I could wash my hands, forearms and chest covered in sticky juice afterwards.

I spent about an hour cleaning the kitchen, emptying our shelf, moving it and wiping off the disgusting slime on the floor underneath it. It’s getting a bit dirty in there, with fruit flies buzzing around. I was about to start disinfecting the counters and sinks but the girlfriend sent me a message, she said she already hired a cleaner to come over this weekend. Cool. So I plopped on the couch and watched the latest episode of Dark Side Of The Ring, they just restarted the third season and I’m all giddy. That one was a bit boring though, it was about “the plane ride from Hell”, an incident that entered wrestling lore but not much happened. They really tried hard to stretch it over 45 minutes.

The girlfriend got back from work, and we walked the dog together to the demolition site. Then we got home and I ate an improvised sandwich with kebab meat, cucumbers and mayo. It was pretty damn good.

Chapter 259

I woke up at 6:30. I decided to amend my commitment to get up at 6, now that I started lifting weights again, I’m in need of those extra 30-45 minutes. I still want to rise early enough to start my day slowly and go on a stroll with the dog, though.

I had two lab periods with the eleventh-graders, it went well, the students were way more engaged than when they are sitting in class. And thus went my day. I’m struggling to even remember one noteworthy thing. In between classes I watched the world go by and listened to the Lotus Eaters podcast and good ultraviolent music that drowned the ambient noise. Then I went home.

I relaxed a bit and headed to the gym. I had a pull workout in front of me, starting with deadlifts. It went great and I was pumped with endorphins afterwards. I finished Jocko Willink’s podcast, he was talking to Sgt Travis Mills, a guy who got blown up in Afghanistan in 2012, becoming a quadruple amputee. Ouch! He was weirdly upbeat and with a constant sense of humor, despite his horrible predicament. Then I listened to half an album by Forced Entry, a thrash band from the 80s that put some technical and progressive in there, it was a bit too weird for me, and the clean vocals in the slow ballad in the middle of the LP turned me off completely. So I put on some Crypts Of Despair instead, one of my favorite death metal discoveries from this year.

I stopped at the little market on the way home, I felt like eating fish for some reason. I bought a flat grey fish and cooked it in the oven, it wasn’t super good, I’m not used to cooking fish. I still ate it all, spitting the millions of tiny bones, alongside a big plate of steaming broccoli. Looking for something to watch, I settled on a documentary about Jerry Springer’s infamous talk show.

The dog and I rode to meet the girlfriend at her school and she drove us back. I noticed one of the headlights is malfunctioning, we’ll have to go get it fixed.

What a boring journal entry. But hey, I said I wouldn’t skip a day throughout all of 2021, so here it is.

Chapter 258

Same routine as always, it’s becoming redundant at times. But then again I’m nearly 255 000 words in, of course at times it feels like I’m out of things to say.

I got to school, there was a message from the principal. The Ghanaian math teacher is still stuck in his country, he couldn’t get the paperwork right to come back at the end of the summer vacation. Consequently, his contract got terminated, it was a gamble he took and he lost. Quite unfortunate. Things in China are quite normal now, I can’t even remember the last time I had to put a shitty little face diaper on my face, but the borders are pretty much sealed shut, everyone who comes in has to get tested beforehand and quarantine regardless of the result.

Lunch was copious and delicious, I had a thick pastrami sandwich with sauerkraut, mustard, mayo and a pickle on the side, as well as a big bowl of chili. It was spicy, the way I like it. Then I only had one class in the afternoon, I caught up on all my homework grading. I don’t collect all homework, only from a handful of randomly selected students. The goal is practice and formative assessment, seeing how well they generally do, not to give myself a mountain of tedious shit to go through.

On Wednesday afternoons we have extracurricular activities, I run the skateboarding club. About 25 students gathered outside, I took attendance and made them read a list of rules (in English and Chinese) and sign waivers. No idea if it’s legally binding in any way, but I want to make clear that it’s a potentially dangerous activity and I’m not responsible if they do something stupid and get hurt. Then we rode our boards around the lot.

Two female students from last year snuck in through the closed gate and ran in the building, I wasn’t sure but I thought I recognized one who was in Attitude Class. Curious, I walked in the building, and they were in the dance room gyrating to K-pop with their friends in the lower grades. I said hi and asked what they’re doing, they said a teacher let them in. I smelled bullshit but didn’t feel like going to the bottom of it, at any rate they were not doing anything bad. I went back outside, and when the extracurricular period was over, I saw them getting sternly talked to by the Chinese principal and one senior teacher. The side gate is unmanned but monitored by cameras, you have to be stupid to think you can sneak in and not get caught.

Weirdly enough, the extracurriculars are scheduled in the middle of the afternoon, and there is still a class period after. Some students are all sweaty from playing sports or all excited, and now they have to go sit back down. I’m glad I don’t have a class scheduled there this year, so I sat around the office and listened to music. I saw a link to an album by a black metal band named Mort Aux Gueux, it was raw, dirty and sloppy, but it’s black metal we’re talking about, isn’t it?! Then I finally got around to listen to Hooded Menace’s new album and... wow. It’s really weird. The Finnish band cleaned up their sound, with upbeat and melodic bits that sound like In Flames, while still somewhat sticking to their doom-death roots. I can’t say I liked it that much, but hey, they do what they want.

I chilled a bit at home, eating fruit, a small bowl of peanuts and a yogurt with protein powder. Bad move. My stomach was grumbling at the beginning of jiu-jitsu practice, but it settled. It was a good one, I went hard against the two blue belts and though they slaughtered me, I had my moments. Good times were had by all.

I went home, walked the dog in the misty rain, and did my laundry/shower/refuel routine. No beer though... well I had a ginger beer.

I finished Un Roman Français by Beigbeder and went to sleep. Another beautiful day.

Chapter 257

I woke up a bit after 6 and slowly started my day. I played an album by Myspirming, a melodic black metal band that’s making waves among fans of this music genre, and is spearheading the robust Icelandic scene. Then I rode to work. One of the last remnants of anti-Covid measures was that the security guards would take my body temperature when I’d roll in, now they’re just sitting around in their cabin and are letting a robot do their job. The thermometer is mounted on a tripod, and when I scan my wrist, it shows the temperature on a screen and emits a cheerful read with its high-pitched female voice. Very cyberpunk. I wonder what would happen if my temperature is too high, does it start beeping loudly? Does it transform into an attack android like the Galactical Federation-issued butler in Rick and Morty?

The second floor of my school is now completely occupied by a Japanese-language program, that wasn’t there only two years ago but has been growing steadily since. Maybe it’s another sign that those English-language CIE or AP or IB curricula are doomed, and that more rich parents will want to send their kids to Japan instead. One tenth-grader ran into me in the hallway, bowed and greeted me in Japanese, before realizing her mistake, blushing, and running away giggling and muttering “Sorry”. It was quite comical.

I had one class, then went downstairs to prepare the lab session. The past years, I supervised labs but my senior coworker was doing all the prepping, now I’m the one taking over that responsibility. The lab tech, a middle-aged Chinese woman, had already distributed all the glassware, my job was to prepare the solutions. That entailed diluting some concentrated hydrochloric acid, as soon as I opened the bottles, thick white fumes filled out the whole prepping space. I pressed the button for the fume hood and of fucken course it didn’t work. You have to be careful handling that, it’s filthy corrosive, splashes violently if you put water in it (remember: acid in water: clever; water in acid: stupid, or acide dans l’eau, c’est beau, eau dans l’acide, suicide) and if you take a big whiff of those chlorine fumes, you’ll feel like a French soldier in the battle of the Somme.

The students came in the lab. One of them looked at my stained lab coat and asked “What on Earth are all those stains?” I complimented him on his use of idioms and fake-smugly said that I’ve been around the block a bit, a chemist with a pristine lab coat isn’t a chemist who’s been at it for long. The lab itself went fine, it’s their first time so we just went over safety regulations and how to use all the equipment. It sure is more fun than being in the classroom, for everyone involved, even if it’s a bit of work.

I rode home and made fried rice with whatever I found in the fridge. I watched a bit of Clown World news: apparently, in Australia, people have to download a mandatory government app that texts them at random times, and they have fifteen minutes to reply with a selfie and a location, otherwise they get fined. Most of the news coming from Australia are grim, it’s weird when a country is even more of a fascist cyberpunk dystopia than China. We also often hear of vaccine mandates, but here there hasn’t been one implemented yet, a large fraction of the population is vaccinated but I don’t think it’s mandatory. I asked an Australian coworker later about this and he said he has no idea, likely it’s only for people in quarantine. Some of those Clown World news are entertaining, but you have to take them with a grain of salt, it’s not only the mainstream legacy media who lies and obfuscates facts.

I got back to school and went through my afternoon without anything really worth mentioning. Between two classes I was grading homework and played the debate between the five prominent Canadian political parties in the background, in my headphones. The Green Party leader, a bald black woman, started her speech by thanking the Algonquin nation and acknowledging that she is on an unceded territory. I couldn’t stop my sudden snortling burst of laughter, and some of my coworkers looked at me awkwardly. I listened to about an hour of the debate, it was in French, which two of them spoke natively and the other three were fluent enough but a bit robotic, repeating the same tired political clichés. I honestly have no idea who’s going to win, federal elections have been a tennis rally between Liberals and Conservatives for a hundred years or more, the switch taking place usually every decade or so.

On the YouTube channel dedicated to the debates, there were a bunch of simultaneous translations in Native American languages. They all had barely double-digit views. I wonder how much it all cost, and how many Natives can’t speak English. But hey, inclusivity and all that.

I went to the supermarket, bought supplies to make chili, which I’ll chop and mix and put in the slow cooker overnight. I watched a Hip-Hop Evolution documentary about the waves of innovations that came from the South: chopped and screwed in Houston, horrorcore in Memphis and crunk in Atlanta. Not all of those hip-hop offshoots are good or have aged well, but for sure they all had tremendous impact. That made me want to listen to Three Six Mafia, it had been a while.

I rode the skateboard with the dog to go meet the girlfriend, and she drove us back. Her phone was mounted in the car, she was listening to a livestream by a designer with a lisping Taiwanese accent.

I got a “Hi, how are things?” from my former British principal on WeChat and we had a bit of a conversation. He’s now working in an international school in Germany, and is always trying to convince me to leave China, in fact he was already saying that back when I worked under him and he was mentoring me through my PGCE. I had a very good relationship with him, going as far as considering him a friend, but he was having a shitty time in the school, a combination of him alienating some foreign and Chinese staff members, not seeing eye-to-eye with the higher-ups, trying to change things that were never to change (Chinese workplace culture isn’t very flexible or receptive to feedback), and general culture shock. Also, back then, we hadn’t moved yet into our own building, so we had to use crumbling third-worldy facilities, which got on everyone’s morale. My own morale back then was rock-bottom, having to adapt to a new curriculum and ploughing through that hellish PGCE, but now I’m pretty damn happy. I’m into a nice groove where I know what I’m doing and only gradually take on new responsibilities, I get along with nearly everyone at the school, I like my living environment, and pile up my money.

And well, I’m Catholic by culture, I work to live, I don’t live to work, so my life doesn’t start and end with my career, it’s a means to an end to finance my travels and indulging in my hobbies. As a result it’s a bit grating to hear all this negativity from him, which borders on condescension at times, like when he says I should go work for a “real school” and that I’m “brainwashed” by China. Hey hey hey hey! I’ll make a move one day, that’s the girlfriend’s plan as well, but now seems like the worst time and also why rush it?

I was in bed a bit after 10 and slept like the dead.