Welcome back Merrigan!

This one's a bit crap. 

Having been in China for 8 months last year I already knew what to expect, so going back wasn’t as exciting as it was this time last year. I can’t say I was looking forward to going back, but I was ok with the thought of it.

Leaving this year was ten times harder than it was last year and I don’t really know why. I remember crying twice as I left last year but the floodgates opened a few more times this time round. I hate crying, and I hate crying in front of people even more. Saying “tara” to mother first thing on the Friday morning was tough, she was in tears before I even came down the stairs, so by the time I’d reached the door all four of us were in tears. Ouch.

The drive to the airport was a typical Merrigan ignore-it-until-we-can’t-ignore-it-anymore situation. We spoke nothing of me leaving, therefore no tears were shed. We got to the airport, ate (like Merrigans to when we’re sad or upset, or angry, happy, annoyed…), then my darling sister opened her mouth and got us all in tears. Horrible. Well and truly horrible. Without a doubt the toughest goodbye I have ever had to say.  There was a good few times after I’d left them at departures where I was seconds away from going “sod this, sod the contract, I’m not going”.

But I did go. Obviously.

Played a game of Spot the White on the plane. Watched every single Chinese person put the complementary Virgin Atlantic socks on at the first opportunity. Listened to the Chinese woman behind me complain (in Chinese might I add) to the air-hostess about me putting my seat back, WHICH I'M ALLOWED TO DO.

Sat and recoiled every time I heard that gut-wrenching “cccchhhhh” sound of an Asian phlegming onto the plane floor. Then thought to myself “Yep, I should have stayed in Wales”.

Anyhow, an American Pie, Dictator and The Lucky One later (Note: When did Zac Efron become hot?) and I’d landed. Larry was late yet again. Then he got a little bit mixed up and thought I was at departures…why would he think that? I have no idea. He’s Chinese, I don’t question the workings of their mind.

The next thing that happened was heartbreaking, up there with saying goodbye to the family.

As I was collecting my bag from the scanner in the coach station (yep)…my deodorant got confiscated!!!! THE product that was going to get me through the next 10 months and make sure that I didn’t turn into a Chinese person, got confiscated. Heartbroken. She took 3 cans out and just threw them in the bin. And there's me thinking that Chinese people didn't like to waste anything. It was apparently because of a fire hazard. A fire hazard on a coach where people paid to sit in the boot. A fire hazard on a coach where people smoked throughout the entire journey. A fire hazard on a coach where the driver got out to put petrol in, and lit up a cigarette while doing so! A FREAKING FIRE HAZARD!!

Thankfully, the stupid cow (necessary) didn’t see the fourth can, which I’m now rationing. I now have to decide if I should use it through the winter and accept that I’m going to smell during the summer. Or save it for summer and only smell a little bit. Ohhh decisions.

Got to Tongling, to be greeted by Tommy, his entire family and their dentist (as you do). Had a welcome meal of giant frogs and ice cream dumplings. Just what I needed! I’d been travelling for over 30 hours and that’s all I wanted was a shower and bed. Instead, I got a houseful of Asians wanting gifts. Cheeky little shaits.

Welcome back Liws!

You know you’ve been in China too long when…

You substitute the word “rarely” for “seldom”

I’ve corrected many a Chinese person on many a word, but correcting the word “rarely” is just not happening. If you are ever in need of a good giggle, go to your nearest take away and ask them to say “rarely”… a full proof plan to put a smile on your face.

You automatically hold your breath every time you see a sign for toilet

You mistake the sound of a baby crying for a chicken being killed; both common sounds on any city street.

You see that people don’t need tissues to blow their nose. Air will do just fine.

If a hole is tiled, then it’s a decent toilet. Never mind the lack of doors, a flushing system or running water.

You can pick fish bones out of your mouth using chopsticks.

You compare a new white top with a “white” top you wore last year and see that the colours wouldn’t even be on the same freaking B&Q colour chart.

You think you’ve had an expensive week when you’ve spent more than £8

You think nothing of calling a student by names such as Cinderella, Money, Zero or Tottie.

You can eat soup with chopsticks, silently.

The sound of a car beeping its horn becomes completely meaningless.

The sound of burping doesn’t even make you cringe.

You look for a person to give your empty bottles to, rather than looking for a bin.

I may have written about this before. But my internet isn’t really allowing me to go look back through my blog (must have pissed Voldermort off). Empty bottles = money. People collect empty bottles and take them to various refuse collection point in order to get the money. It’s something like 1 or 2 jiao (1 or 2p) per bottle.  People make a living from doing this. Which reminds me that I need to rant about the benefits system in the UK at some point in the future.

You’ve mastered the art of drinking tea without getting leaves stuck in your teeth

The name “Wang Ke” doesn’t even make you chuckle anymore

Your natural response to “You have a dinner with the headmaster tonight, I’ll pick you up in 5 minutes”, is not “shit, I’m in my trackies and I haven’t washed my hair”. Instead, you set the alarm and put photographs of your family and friends in your schoolbag for the next day, as the 7am class will need to be hangover friendly.

You see non- Asian strangers on the street and have no issues about going up and introducing yourself. I now have two new Finnish friends; Risto and BR. Pekka (?!)

The sight of kids excreting on the street makes you grateful that they’re not shitting on a table in a café (a rather unfortunate experience that shall not be delved into further for fear of vomiting on my laptop)

You begrudge spending more than 10rmb (£1) on any one single item

People don’t understand why you’re holding 6 fingers up whilst saying the number 6. But as soon as you make the “call me” hand gesture, EVERYONE understands.

You have to ration deodorant and tampons

You can hold a glass of boiling water for a few minutes without even flinching

You get asked what animal you are before how old you are

                I’m a horse; year of the horse and all that malarkey/tradition

Breaking a 100rmb note is heart breaking

You get given rice for breakfast and eggs for lunch.

The first thing given to you as soon as you walk into someone else’s house is a pair of slippers or plastic bags to put over your shoes.

You tell a student off for writing his name as “wwgq22” instead of “Wwgq22”

You see a family of three plus a dog on scooters, on a daily basis

You agree to “play” with middle aged men

I feel the need to explain this one. Remember when you were little and used to knock on your neighbours’ door and ask their parents if your friend could come out and play? For me, that’s the first meaning of “play”. Then as you get older the meaning gets slightly dirtier; meaning number 2. Then you come to China and a normal Friday afternoon conversation with a colleague goes something like this:

Mr. Zhen: Liwsi, would you like to play with me and my friends tomorrow?

Me: Can you say that again?

Mr.Zhen: Tomorrow; Me, my brother and some friends are going to play with each other. Would you like to join us?

Me: Of course, where and when?

Whether you use meaning one or meaning two, this conversation sounds wrong. Generally, “to play” (which makes sense)in China means to go out and do something fun; KTV, eat out, go the park. So yes, I play with my colleagues.

One episode of Mock The Week takes 19 hours to download and you think “Oh, the internet’s good today”

You play the “fat or bone” game with dishes at a banquet. If it’s fat; you lose. If it’s bone; you win.

Explanation:  At banquets, good pieces of meat are few and far between at the end of the night. But if the host tells you to have some more, it’s considered rude not to. So you shove your chopsticks in and play the “fat or bone” game. Now, Chinese people love to eat chunks of fat, therefore you can’t really waste it in front of them, so you’ve got to chew and swallow. Ych. If it’s bone, then it’s perfectly fine to spit out onto the table, so you survive another round of “fat and bone”. Note: For 

soups this can be substituted for “blood or bone” and with poultry “beak, fat or bone”.

Most of the people you see have a thumbnail which is at least 2 inches long. I have no explanation for this.

You only put one pillowcase out to dry at a time as the neighbours have a tendency to steal them!

Why steal a pillowcase? I have half my wardrobe out there drying, and you steal a pillowcase.

A “short walk through the mountains” results in a 6 hour trek up and down the bloody thing, whilst wearing jeans in 28degree heat. Ouch.

Chinese men in gyms are like German tourists at the poolside

So I’m running (plodding along) on a treadmill and a Chinese man comes along and puts his towel down on my treadmill. He says something, which I don’t understand, and leaves. He was essentially booking his sunbed while he went to get breakfast! More on the gym later.

Every chicken soup you get given has a beak and feet in it.