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.