Clouds, smog and the occasional blue sky.

So yet again, I find myself in my undies, sitting in a strange room with the same ceilings pondering the last week or so of my travels.

China is big. Big in the sense that, sure it covers a lot of land, but there is so much packed into each and every piece.

The past 10 days I’ve been here has mainly comprised of hanging out with my old man, shopping, eating and taking the occasional photo.
One of the many stories passed to me, is that come New Years, 10 million people pack on to public transport to head west to their respective villages. Then 8-10 days later, 10 million people get back on public transport, head back east, to spend the next 355 days working in and around the cities. 10 million. Yes that’s just under half the entire Australian population. And we thought CityRail had issues.
When I say 355 days, I say that without a hint of exaggeration. The average person with a job, those of course lucky enough to have one, work every day, of every week, of every month, year in year out with the exception of the aforementioned 8-10 days.
And we complain about a 40 hour working week.

Guang Zhou, Fo Shan and Nan Hai have been my hangouts thus far. My father lives in an apartment complex bordering all three of these regions. Nothing but villages and farmland existed here not 5 years ago, but it’s now matrix of modern apartment estates, popping up with construction going on 24/7. And again I mean 24/7. There are no noise laws here. The developers control the money, who in turn have the ears of the local officials, so be it 3 o’clock in the afternoon or 3 in the morning, sounds of cranes lifting, pylons being piled and trucks honking can be heard.
Transport from these estates to the main centres, rely on curtesy buses run by the developers. They hope to drive more sales by bringing potential buyers out into the sticks. Either that or take the ubiquitous 125cc motorbike taxi, precarious for the uninitiated, but reasonably safe.

One thing I did see here that I missed on my last trip, was the often under appreciated blue sky. Between the weather and the industry smog, see clear sky is almost rare enough an event to begin a ritual sacrifice.
I have a theory actually that if you wanted to feel what global warming would be like right now, head to southern China where the CO2 levels will keep you nice and toasty.

Floating from place to place, having the benefit of my father’s knowledge and far superior Chinese language skills, I realise what a melting pot this area is. Provide work, and people will come. From everywhere. That’s the next indicator of how big China really is. The main languages around here are Mandarin and Cantonese. But throw in about half a dozen other dialects, all with a unique sound, one begins to understand that Chinese aren’t all ‘Chinese’. There are a mix of so many Chinese ethnicities it’s almost impossible to keep count. It takes a while to spot, and one needs a bit of background knowledge about the different areas of China, but once you work it out, it’s quite an interesting game of working out “where are you from” before actually asking.

Around here, I do tend to blend in appearance, but as soon as I open my mouth, the truth falls out in often odd tones. More often than not, it’s seen as a novelty, which actually helps in creating rapport and bargaining power while shopping. But it’s a good way in to get talking to people and learning more about them. I guess for them it’s the usual case of, “you look Chinese, (maybe on steroids), but you don’t sound like any Chinese I’ve ever met. What’s the story?” Chinese do tend to be a curious bunch.

Following from that, I finally have some validation for the month of suffering I endured earlier this year, aka Cambridge CELTA.
On more than a few of occasions I’ve found myself giving an impromptu English lesson in places ranging from a bus stop to a restaurant after dinner. For those in the know, yes I did cover MPF.
My ‘save the world’ type reasons for doing all this in the first place have come full circle, as the idea of teaching English as a career occurred to me in China on my last trip. Most people earn a living from trading/sales or tourism here, so a small amount makes a big difference.
Everyone together: ‘ohhhhhh…… isn’t that nice’. Sorry, that’s the 18 months in Africa sarcasm/cynicism coming out.
But on a serious note, it has been rewarding and fulfilling, floating around with something you can continually and spontaneously give. Something that people, especially around here, are ever so grateful to receive.
The situation with the restaurant unfolded just tonight.

After struggling through a dinner of essentially fine boned fish boiled in chilli oil (Se Chuan style), I noticed the owner’s niece doing some homework, filling in answers to questions in English. I couldn’t help myself so a few corrections later and an impromptu pron session, I was astounded at the level of articulation this 12 year old had. As with any language I guess, learning it early makes pronunciation so much easier.
Now if only my dear Elementary students could grasp that, no, I shouldn’t compare students, or children for that matter. But still…. if only….. =)

So, I’m off on my next leg on Sunday. UK/Europe for the next coming months. New territory, new conditions, an exciting section to look forward to.

P.S If you’re wondering why the photos are still of me in Africa, it’s because the powers that be here don’t really like international criticism so sites like blogspot are off limits. I managed to post through a proxy, but such luxuries as photos are not included.
I’ll update when I get to slightly less policed abodes.