#An Ulsterman Abroad
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1) y’all ain’t got anything better to do? MAN you care about heads of state way more than heads of government.
2) y’all think countries don’t have national ceremonies? 😒 maybe it’s an american thing for all y’all who live somewhere that’s not washington dc. as i do live there, let me disabuse you of the notion that national ceremonies are a rarity.
how about they take the money the royal family yields in tourism-related travel and trade to pay for the funeral and then use the millions leftover to send y’all a juicebox.
3) it’s not my place as someone who doesn’t live near the border of ireland and that...other place to hint at anything like encouraging a return of the Troubles.
and this does kill me. as someone from a whose grandfather’s parents were chased out of British-identity-obsessed (they don’t have one; no one but you considers you British except for yourselves) inferiority-complex-manifesting via reaffirming with KKK enthusiasm Catholic-hatred (K.A.T.????) -land into Scotland where my grandfather was born before emigrating to Trump country, thus cutting me out of Irish and EU citizenship by THREE YEARS.
i am, personally, an irish nationalist. personally meaning not an activist, not chanting or posting shit on the shitstain that is ulster (another reason i die is because my mic name is a variant of ulsterman 🤬🤬🤬🤬)
do y’all realize it’s not your place to encourage a repeat of the Troubles? that’s where y'all are some real fucks. seriously, fuck yourself before you speak. a how-to: take a nice vibrator, get off, and rethink whether its your place to want to stir up the Troubles if you live comfortably away from the bombzone.
4) i don’t even put a lot of blame on the monarchy for the famine. when visiting famine ruins, i got the impression it was English landlords (aka 1%ers) who were profiting by and therefor enforcing the famine. i might be wrong.
you could say it was done in the name of the monarchy. that’s where being head of state gets to be a position with a lot of cons. but royalty are RICH! King George (Queen Elizabeth’s father) died early out of boredom, not stress! He should have died sooner aehrhrgjhgajrghrjagharjgh!!!!!!
5) my fav (ex)royals said it was Charles, not Elizabeth, who was being passive aggressive and racist. by all means, say their narrative shouldn’t be more valid than your own if you must.
6) i don’t know why y’all are so opposed to the idea of separating the head of state and head of government in the first place. if we had a presence like that here in the states, uninvolved in politics, neutral, a first lady sort of type but way bigger, big enough to solidify an identity, an identity closer to the founding fathers than any 2 party system--i might not have 100% forsaken my nationality.
my grandfather’s country might have been fucked by English colonialism but my mother’s country was fucked by American colonialism. so I’ve never been actually proud of America. but living abroad, I came to at least accept it as irreparably part of who I am. after trump became the whole embodiment of the US though? state and government? an ugly picture of an ugly face (the country’s ugly face; it’s redundant to mention trump’s face and mention ugliness). i choose to be drifting and s*icidal rather than face that stain of my identity again.
all in all?
keep calm
and fuck y’all
#queen elizabeth#well i jumped on some dumbass bandwagons out of excitement in my younger years#when i still had excitement#there are storms we cannnnot weatherrrr#i had a dream my life would beeee so different from this hell im living so different now from what it seeeeemed#but all yall and the rest not yall have killed the dream#i dreameeeed
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Fuji-San: Climbing the Giant Ice Cream
Many years ago now, I famously applied and failed in a previous quest to live in Japan. Fast forward four years and I'm finally here, living the Japanese Dream in Tokyo Wonderland. It wasn't all plain-sailing though. There was a a bachelor degree, an horrific interview and three years of simultaneously loving and hating life in China to battle through first.
Lets rewind four years. I'm in Edinburgh, Scotland and I'm interviewing for a reputable teaching scheme in Japan. I should be clear here, although I decided I wanted to move to Japan, in the grand scheme of things I had no idea about Japan or even a legitimate reason of substance. Despite having had numerous part-time jobs during my high-school and student years, I'd somehow managed to avoid ever participating in a real job interview. This was only going to lead to disaster. To cut a long study short, I managed to mention the war, Hiroshima and the 2011 tsunami and earthquake which devastated parts of Japan in my interview. I really left myself with less of a chance of moving to Japan than the possibility of a limbless man recreating the Mona Lisa. Six months later I moved to China...
One question I was asked, however, was ‘Where would you like to go in Japan?’ I hadn’t researched anything in particular for this question but there was one big reason I wanted to go to Japan - to climb Mount Fuji. For many, that may not seem like a legitimate reason for moving to another country but I had and continue to have, a strange attraction to Fuji. I’m not about to start rambling to you about some form of weird attraction that you’ll only find in the deepest, darkest corners of the internet, but for me, Fuji possesses a kind of mythical quality that I can’t describe. Whilst Japan is a hugely mountainous region, Fuji rises from the ground like a giant, almost totally isolated in it’s grandeur, unlike other mountainous parts of Japan. Fuji dominates the scenery around it and rises majestically, in it’s conical form, sculpted perfectly by Mother Nature herself.
On a clear day, Fuji is visible from Tokyo which is about a two hour drive from the foot of the mountain. I haven’t been lucky enough to see it yet from so far out but in the crisp, clear, winter days to come, I’ll be looking out with bated breath. The first time I went to Fuji was in April this of this year. Although it’s not possible to climb the mountain at that time because of the temperature and snow capped peak, the surrounding areas are very beautiful and a refreshing break from the claustrophobia of Tokyo. My first impression was, ‘Oh shit.’ I knew I would climb over the climbing period during July and August and when faced with Fuji, rising 3700m into the sky, I could see no way of possibility getting to the top. Due to its conical shape, the peak of the mountain looks almost vertical and it’s hard to imagine getting to the summit without climbing apparatus. Whilst I like to climb the occasional mountain, they usually tend to require nothing more than a pair of running shoes. As the day went on, it became easier to appreciate the sheer size of Fuji and how much impact it has on the surrounding area and Japan in general. I have three year old students who can’t put their own socks on, but even for them, Mount Fuji holds a special significance in Japanese culture. It helps that I also have Mr Potato Head, Fuji-themed socks to spark their interest even further...
So, on a late August afternoon, I climbed aboard a bus from Shinjuku station to Mount Fuji’s fifth station. Whilst it is possible to climb Fuji from the very bottom, the majority of climbers start from the fifth station which is around 2300m above sea level. Although this is higher than I’ve ever been in my life (whilst on two feet), in reality there are only around 1400m to the summit from the start point. We took the option of climbing overnight, beginning at 8pm rather than being extortionately ripped off to stay in a crowded mountain hut for a couple of hours. I had also never climbed at night before which filled me with fear, but in reality, the trails are very good. So as long as you’re careful and have some form of head-torch, the climb is very safe. Mount Fuji is made up of ten stations and by 9pm we had reached the sixth station, already. From that point on, the trail begins to rise rapidly, going from a steady incline to a more vertical incline but it’s still a relatively simple hike. For me, the climb between stations seven and eight were probably the most difficult. This is, effectively, the only part of Fuji that you have to climb. After 12 years of playing rugby and drunkenly falling down stairs at house parties, my knees are verging on dodgy, crumbling messes. During this section you need to climb over large, cliff-like rocks rather than the volcanic gravel trail prevalent on the rest of the mountain. It is also very accessible but whilst my hiking companion seemingly found it simple enough to stay upright, my abysmal lack of balance and sometimes raging winds required me to use my hands at times also. I became a very nonathletic Spiderman. If you’re like me, bring gloves to protect your hands and you will have no problems. And your web blasters.
I should point out that at this point I was terrified. Whilst it was relatively easy to climb up, the incline was extreme and I wondered how the hell I was every going to get back down without smashing my head off every rock on the mountain, as my huge body rapidly rolled to the bottom. It turns out most of the fears I had on the way up were totally irrelevant as the downward path is both different and incredibly easy. In short, don’t worry. By midnight, we were seriously ahead of time and had reached the eighth station at 3100m - only 600m from the top. Until this point, I had actually been climbing in a t-shirt but it was starting to get very cold. Only adrenaline and climbing had protected me for the previous hour or two. Luckily I had packed five extra layers and the further we climbed the more clothes I gradually slipped on. Think of it like a prostitute at work, but in reverse. Sadly also, nobody was paying me for this shit.
Having a rest at the eight station. Notice how we’re still happy and gloves aren’t necessary yet...
During this section of the climb, it was now seriously cold. As long as you kept moving, it was bearable; even pleasant. As soon as you stopped, however, no amount of layers could protect you despite myself looking like the North Face had sponsored Mr. Blobby. A big problem we also had was that we were running out of mountain. At the rate we were going, we would’ve been at the summit by 1.30am, a mere three and a half hours until sunrise. I could only assume that it would be colder at the summit and I didn’t fancy recreating the end of Titanic, except in reverse at 3700m above sea level as some strangers mistakenly referred to me as ‘Jack.’ Bearing this in mind, we decided to find a sheltered spot between the eighth and ninth stations and rest for an hour out of the wind. The mountain staff are surprisingly strict with climbers, to the extent that many climbers could be put in danger. At every mountain hut they will sell Pot Noodles and sometimes other hot food but you’re basically forbidden from coming inside unless you pay the full night’s accommodation fee - around 8000yen. Or £55-£65, depending on what Theresa May’s fair government has cocked up that week. There is plenty of space to shelter climbers from the winds, which are fairly extreme, but I could see it from the other side of the spectrum. Why should they aid mad bastards like us, who chose to climb overnight and encourage others to do the same long term, thus reducing customers and profits? People were so cold that they were hiding in toilets just to stay warm which prompted the addition of a ‘mountain toilet guard’ at one bathroom shack. What I will say is that, you will never take as many unnecessary shits as you will whilst climbing Fuji, simply to get out of the cold and sit down somewhere warm for 5 minutes. Ok, 10...
After an hour long break, we began our ascent to the summit at around 1am, knowing full well we would still be there early, however, staying still was no longer an option. Whilst I couldn’t feel a lack of oxygen in the air, I could feel that with every step and every bend in the trail, it was definitely getting harder. We both reached the ninth station around 2am which is only about 300m from the summit. We were both feeling tired but good and the summit was (probably) in view. All was going well until around 150m from the end. In the space of around ten minutes, my friend went from being slightly tired to physically ill. Headaches and nausea included. Until this point, he had more or less set the pace the whole way but it suddenly fell on me to become Sam and push Frodo up the mountain to destroy Sauron. Or, reach the top of Fuji. It’s the same thing really. Me being me, I hadn’t actually researched altitude sickness at all, hoping everything would just be ok. With that (lack of) knowledge, I figured it was best to push him to keep climbing the mountain and stop him from falling asleep; not really sure if I was helping him or slowly killing him. Every five minutes or so, we would rest for another 5-10 minutes, inhaling the oxygen we’d thankfully invested in pre-hike. By this point, I could see other experienced climbers, who were also clearly struggling and you could tell that everybody was a little bit wrecked. It’s kind of like watching that drunk guy leaving the pizza shop at 4am with his food. He’s walking so slowly and trying so hard not to fall onto the road but you know, somehow, he’ll make it home.
The last 150m took us around an hour - a massive difference compared to the rest of the hike - and we reached the summit around 3.15am, thankfully as the summit huts and shelters were opening up. A total climb of around six hours plus our rest period isn’t bad going. I got a massive buzz off it, so much so that I couldn’t even feel the cold anymore. I was even cheery, something I very rarely am, even at sea level. It felt good to climb higher than I ever had before and although I wouldn’t say it was particularly difficult, it was a massive challenge and a totally new experience. I left my friend in a sheltered hovel while I scoped out the summit and tried to find somewhere we could rest until sunrise. I ended up paying an extortionate amount for the best Pot Noodle I’ve ever had in my life.before going back to reclaim my friend. Thankful that he wasn’t dead, we hung out for an hour in a summit hut, which was wonderfully warm. Whilst he battled to stay awake, clutching a roasting hot green tea, I took the chance to socialise with some other climbers and hope nobody asked me to buy anything. Around 4.30am, it was starting to get light out and we headed outside to watch the sunset. My friend was still in a precarious state and by this point, after being in the warm indoors for over an hour, the effects of the climb had truly worn off. All you could feel now was the cold. So cold, in fact, that I couldn’t enjoy the Kit-Kat which I’d carried up the mountain, specifically to eat at the summit. My optimism went from, ‘Yay, sunrise time,’ to ‘When the fuck is the sun going to come up?’ in the space of about three and a half minutes. My friend took a seat on the edge of the mountain, whilst I moved around the summit, desperately trying to keep warm. The volcanic crater below is both simultaneously impressive and terrifying and not something you want to stray too close to on the windy summit. As the sun began to rise, I returned to my friend who had made his own little addition to the mountain by re-releasing the curry-rice we had consumed before the climb. It’s always good to give back to nature.
The sunrise was a beautiful sight but I was so cold that it was hard to appreciate in a full capacity. It was the first time you get a real sense of how high you actually are, however, and the mountain ranges you pass through on the way to Fuji are dwarfed in comparison. I could see a small mountain I’d climbed four months earlier with my girlfriend to get a good view of Fuji itself and it was like a pimple on the body of the world. Fuji is, well, something else. We began our descent about fifteen minutes after sunrise due to it being fucking baltic and my friend very quickly recovered as we began to descend. The views were wonderful for the first 25 minutes until the descent became potentially the most boring thing I’ve ever done in my life. Two and a half hours descending a path that is both repetitive and slightly too hard on the knees to be comfortable was so monotonous. By the time I got to the bottom I was thoroughly miserable, both due to tiredness and sheer boredom and felt sorry for my companion who had to put up with my foul mood.
Above: The stunning sunrise and other climbers observing the view.
Below: Waiting for my wonderful cup noodle in a climbers hut at Fuji’s tenth station.
Having a well deserved lie down on a very cold mountain top.
Would I climb Fuji again? The short answer is, I don’t know. Whilst it wasn’t particularly difficult, the cold does really hamper your enjoyment of the experience. Only if I stayed in a hut and could appreciate Fuji’s enormity and views during the day, would I consider doing it again. Climbing overnight was less congested but I could honestly see shit. The feeling of elation and adrenaline I experienced on the final moments before and after reaching the summit though, is something I’ll never forget. I flash-backed to that interview room all those years ago, accomplished in the knowledge that I’d achieved one of the biggest goals I’d ever set myself. But for now, it’s sayonara Fuji!
See more pictures below!
Standing in front of Fuji’s imperious crater. Below was as close as I was willing to get, though.
What looked like a moderate sized mountain range on the journey in are made to look minuscule in comparison to Fuji in the sunrise below.
Climbers navigating the summit (above) and the start of the descent (below). I’ve seen worse views, I guess.
#Fuji#Japan#Climbing#Lit#Blog#Travel Blog#Satire#Funny#Hiking For Dummies#An Ulsterman Abroad#TEFL#Teaching
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Money Money Money, Must be Funny, In a Chinese World - Part 2: Money v Education
Welcome back! In my last article on this topic, I looked at the difference between private and public education in China and some of the advantages and disadvantages regarding both. As previously mentioned, the focus on money in education is heavily prominent and this can lead to many problems from an East vs. West perspective. When I moved to China, I went with the idea that I could be an inspirational teacher. Someone that kids would love to learn English from. This was shattered for multiple reasons.
When I started out, I'd had absolutely no teacher training. I was under the impression, after hearing Chinese kids would be mannerly, shy and eager to learn, that I would simply be able to walk into a classroom, hold up some flashcards and the kids would simply learn how to speak English. How wrong I was. I was awful. The training I received was basic, to be generous and after ten days I was thrown into my own classroom, not really any better off than ten days previously. My employers knew this, however, and at this point, I probably should have been left to my own devices in the classroom to find my feet and actually develop as a teacher. This wasn't the case and instead, I was thrown into numerous publicity events, designed to exploit China’s rising middle classes desire to have their child educated by a native English speaking teacher. Looking back, in the long run, taking part in these events perhaps brought me out of my shell. Though, I hadn't yet mastered teaching 15 four year olds I was expected to delightfully woo 50 kids, their parents, aunties, uncles, grandparents, second cousins and every other passing customer at the local shopping mall.
These events continued for months and depending on whoever the principal was at the time (of which there were many), there could of been as many as one a week, during which time, all kindergarten activities were essentially suspended and centred around publicity events. I should also point out that changes in management were always made for monetary reasons, not educational benefit. As a result, every time the principal was replaced,a new wave of publicity would always follow. Decorations would change, events would be planned and and I would basically end up doing everything but actually teaching - the job I had moved across the world to do. Educational activity was centred around money; not education. Chinese teachers’ would essentially cancel their own classes to decorate or prepare the kindergarten for whatever activity was coming up, but a double standard existed, as any such action from myself, or the other English teachers was treated as a ‘serious work incident’. Often, there would be no time to prepare classes, however, and some mornings you would literally be turning up with nothing.
No matter who was in charge, these kind of issues kept coming up and eventually came to a climax six weeks before I left that job. I inherited a new class and six weeks into the new term, some parents started to complain that their kids’ English wasn’t progressing. Only one parent in the class spoke any English, so how they worked that out, I don’t know. So for the first time in a year, an open class was organised for me to demonstrate my abilities. In the end the parents were satisfied with how I taught the class and left, not even bothering to stay for the Chinese teachers open classes. I’d only been teaching between 2-4 twenty minute classes a week compared to the ten which I was meant to take and by that stage, my ability as a teacher was actually quite good. It left me feeling angry at actually having been put in that position, where people began to doubt my ability, mainly because money was deemed more important than the education of the existing pupils or ‘customers’ which we had. At times, I wanted to tell some of the parents what was really happening but I had a clause in my contract which essentially prevented me from talking about my true feelings and opinions. I had been in China long enough by that point that I knew my opinions wouldn’t change anything in the short term, never mind the long term.
Publicity often went as far as endangering the children’s safety as the kids were brought to exercise in the community rather than on the soft astro-turf in the playground where they could play safely. Despite there being injuries and accidents every morning, the bosses wanted others in the community to see the kids routine when passing and hopefully entice new customers. It was quite frankly sickening to watch as other educators would freely allow it. It only seemed to be the foreign staff who noticed the dangers it caused and this both worried and disgusted me, as unlike the Chinese staff, my bachelors degree had practically nothing to do with education. It was all a bit too much to handle on a daily basis, as every day there seemed to be some sort of ludicrous suggestion to make more money. I decided it was best to move on and try and apply my skills in a more focused, teaching environment.
I then moved to a language school, which, to be honest, made me a very rich man. For the first few months, the time was very relaxed. I had a very open schedule, plenty of time for planning/training and not many classes. This left time for promotional work and due to my relatively relaxed schedule, it was pretty painless, better structured and easy to accommodate. Training was constantly provided, meaning you were constantly able to improve as a teacher and there was also a greater focus on cross-cultural communication. In theory, this made each working day a little easier as there was a more specific focus on what people should or shouldn’t be doing or what was expected/not. For three months, this system worked perfectly, and I had managed to find what I was looking for - a role more focused on teaching. At which point, I went on holiday. When I came back after two weeks, every other teacher at the school had either left/decided to leave in the imminent future and mayhem ensued. All of the teaching responsibility fell on me, as well as all sales and promotional activity.
The company in question offered a very personalised education service meaning there was quite a lot of pressure that came with the job. I was largely in control of how I taught the lessons, meaning it could be very fun and interesting but at the end of the day, the pupils’s success was heavily influenced by whatever way I decided to teach my classes. Once my schedule was full, it was hard to detach yourself from trying to deliver this success and to put it simply, sales and promotional work only distracted from the benefit of the students which I’d already signed. Rules were established to avoid confrontation and arguments. However, I found some of my colleagues/bosses were so money driven, that the rules were constantly broken and stretched to the very limits on a daily basis. Despite the personal rewards I got from teaching my students, they always seemed to be placed second in comparison to new customers/students. As a teacher, I wanted my students to have the best possible experience and education but the desire for money constantly got in the way of that. There were dedicated sales staff whose responsibility it should’ve solely been to gather new students, however, sales targets began to be given to the supporting English teachers who should have been focused on helping with educational matters. This meant that money and sales were ingrained at every level and it often felt like it was foreign teachers vs. the rest of the world, in terms of actually trying to deliver a decent and successful education service.
Some examples of money and education combining would be kids with totally different English abilities being placed together in classes in order to fulfil quotas and meet targets. Lunch breaks would be scheduled as ‘sales’ time for prospective new students, usually on a Saturday or Sunday where you would teach solidly for about 7-8 hours...except lunch. Two year old kids were also targeted for forty minute English classes which is in no way realistic. At one stage I did a demonstration class with a 15 month year old baby. I don’t need to tell you how that went. My colleagues found it extremely funny. As the one teaching, I absolutely did not. By the end, my Chinese ability was borderline acceptable and I would hear sales’ staff asking the support staff to disregard my opinion regarding kids’ English and placement levels in order to make sales at all costs. By the end, if I and China were in a marriage, I would’ve driven their Ferrari into the ocean, taking all the watches and expensive suits with me before selling the house on Ebay for a packet of condoms and a tin whistle, just to teach them a lesson.
It’s been three months, however, since I thought about driving the Ferrari to the bottom of the sea and my anger at the greed and selfishness has largely subsided and I remember mainly the good things. The good food. The friendly people. The amazing scenery. The cheap beer. The list goes on...
I’ll leave you with the words of a Chinese acquaintance I have:
‘These English schools aren’t good, they’re only setup to make money. Chinese people are so smart but they don’t use their brains for the correct purposes. Only to make money, money and more money.’
That person now owns his own English school...
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No ‘Nikko’tine Please
Autumn is firmly upon us and in search of the perfect Instagram picture, or, I mean, a lovely day in fantastic autumnal setting, I ventured two hours outside of my usual haunt - Tokyo - to the picturesque town of Nikko in Tochigi Prefecture. Nikko was once a center of Buddhist and Shinto teachings and as a result, has many temples and shrines to visit which are surrounded by a tranquil and beautiful setting, making it the perfect place for a day or weekend trip. There are plenty of lakes, waterfalls, mountains and rivers to check out as well, if, like me, you feel a little ‘templed’ out in Japan.
I began my journey in Kita-Senju, somewhat of a commuter town which connects Tokyo to the north and east. From, Kita-Senju it took just short of two hours and cost only ¥2390 single (about £16). There are faster, more expensive ways of getting there as well as using local trains which will only cost you about £10 but take over three hours. As it was an autumnal Saturday, due to Nikko’s popularity, my first train was actually sold out meaning I had time to kill. I spent the hour pretending I might actually want to buy one of these books below in a Japanese bookstore before confirming all Asian stereotypes of westerners by going to a Starbucks. Thankfully, I decided not to frequent the pub or McDonalds later that day to complete the holy trinity.
I eventually boarded my wonderfully heated train to Nikko and was instantly transported back to the 80s. As I sat down in my mustard coloured velvet seat, the men around me vigorously tried to read their broadsheet newspapers. Apparently they’re still in existence. The journey was super comfortable and when you eventually leave Tokyo’s seemingly endless suburbia, the views of the plains and ever encroaching mountains are very pleasing. Even on a Saturday, I was constantly reminded of Japan’s determination to break the world record for overtime worked, as the businessman beside me worked furiously, intermittently sighing every 5-10 minutes. I was lucky to go on a day where, despite the temperature, the weather was virtually perfect and was able to enjoy the autumnal colours of the tree covered hills and mountains. When I reached Nikko after midday, I was greeted by the scene below beside the train tracks, making it, probably, the prettiest approach to a train station I’ve seen. My hopes of getting lost in reds, browns, oranges and yellows seemed positive.
My first port of call was to walk to the Kirifuri waterfall, which according to my cartoon map, was definitely within walking distance. I came out of the station and walking the opposite direction from every other tourist, prayed I hadn’t seriously misjudged the GTA style map I picked up at the station, before crossing the river and walking up into the hills you can see above. For somebody who had spent every previous weekend since the dawn of time in the pub, it felt relaxing to be presented with such views and clean, mountain air.
After spotting a sign for ‘Kirifuri Highlands’ being over 10 kilometres away, I started to think I’d made a serious mistake but kept walking into the hills, scrunching my way through the thousands of fallen leaves - a perfect walk for any bubblewrap enthusiasts. It wasn’t until I caught up with the only other person on the road - a young guy from Singapore - that I felt a bit more comfortable. Of course, being from Singapore, I had to ask him that crucial question.
‘Is chewing gum really banned in Singapore?’
It is.
When I reached the falls, what I really expected to find was this (above). Instead, it turns out I was perhaps, a week or two too late and was presented with the scene below. It’s still a stunning scene but more closely resembles Cormac McCarthy’s The Road than that famous autumn scene in When Harry Met Sally.
By this point, I hadn’t eaten in roughly 6 hours so it was time to walk back down the hill and try some local food. Nikko is famous for ‘yuba’ - a type of tofu skin - and it seems to be incorporated into a number of dishes here such as with ramen, as ice cream or in cookies. I decided to take the horribly British option and ruin the goodness of it by getting it deep fried. It tasted amazing though and the saltiness of the batter combined with the sweetness of the red bean wrapped in yuba, was something I’ve never experienced before. The moral of the story here - ruin more of your healthy foods with batter.
There are a large number of temples and shrines in Nikko; many of which are contained within a large heritatge site that includes Toshogu Shrine and Rinnoji Temple. The temple is currently being renovated, however, so if you go now, you will be treated to the site of a giant warehouse which could include anything from the ruins of the Titanic to Hugh Heffner’s collection of pornography. You can venture inside, however, for a small fee. To reach them, I walked for about 15 minutes from Nikko train station along it’s spacious but homely main street. The street sells everything from crepes and mochi - a sticky rice snack smashed into a gluttonous ball - to antiques, crafts and other local delicacies. Eventually you will reach Shinkyo Bridge, which you can see below and is regarded as the gateway to Nikko’s major religious complex. Rumour has it that locals found it impossible to cross the bustling river below until two magical snakes were cast to create the beautiful bridge pictured. Due to St.Patrick banishing all of the snakes from Ireland, it must be the reason we have very few spectacular bridges back home. That pesky Welshman. You can actually cross the bridge for around 300yen but you have to return from whence you came; completely defeating it’s purpose as a bridge.
You just know somebody has pulled their pants down and learnt this the hard way...(Above)
Whilst Nikko’s temples and shrines may be one of their most popular tourist attractions, if you’re like me and don’t particularly like queuing and large crowds then maybe avoid them on the weekend. Whilst Toshogu Shrine, in particular, is one of the most lavishly decorated shrines in Japan and worth checking out, on the weekend it’s really difficult to appreciate the beauty of it with the amount of noise, people and selfie sticks floating dangerously close to your face. Temples and shrines are meant to be tranquil and peaceful places but, unfortunately, on weekends, bloody tourists like myself who have no idea what they’re taking pictures of just fill the places up. Definitely go here on a weekday though. Or if it rains...
‘Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil.’ You heard it from these monkeys first...
The gate to Toshogu Shrine (above) and some of it’s intricate carvings and detail (below).
Toshogu Shrine itself is also being renovated and entry is forbidden but you can see some of it’s lavish detail (above) and the picture below was taken from the hall of the ‘Crying Dragon.’ In truth, the dragon doesn’t look so much like it’s crying but more having a really sucky day at the office but a tour guide will give you a demonstation on the acoustics of the hall which is quite impressive before plugging some religious charms they’d like you to buy. This is all included in the price of your entrance ticket to the shrine (1300yen/£7-8). Unfortunately, photography is banned in the hall but a simple Google search should show you the world’s most downbeat dragon.
As the sun began to set I wanted to explore one final location in Nikko - the Kanmangafuchi Abyss. The Abyss is a small gorge formed by a previous volcanic eruption from the nearby Mount Nantai. The gorge is lined by around 70 Bodhisattvas called ‘Jizo’ which are said to look after and care for the dead. Their size and shape vary whilst they look out peacefully, in sharp contrast to the raging gorge below. As I went around sundown, unlike the complex before, there were very few people in the area which has more of a rural, countryside feel. The dying light created a very eerie scene, fitting for those watching over the dead which you can check out in the video and photos below.
Bill and Reggie living the Jizo life. Bill hasn’t quite made the transition to horn-rimmed glasses yet and Reggie, well, he ate all the pies...
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Konnichi...say wa now?
I finally saw a giant panda! Yes, you read that right and no, I haven’t returned to China. Despite living in the middle kingdom - the home of the panda - for nearly three years, it wasn’t until I arrived in Japan three months ago that I got to experience the wonder of watching a panda take a massive, green shit in it’s own water bowl. God, it was worth the wait.
Yes, it’s been nearly four months since I moved to Tokyo and crapping pandas aside, it’s been quite the experience. I spend the majority of time at work, which, in a lot of ways limits what I can tell you, only that I’m no longer ‘Mr. Pee-Pee’ but am now officially, ‘Mr. Pizza’ to 3-5 year old children. It’s great to no longer be referred to as a form of excrement, but instead, a delicious Italian feast of carbs, cheese and tomato. One of these days, Asia will get to grips with my name and I will die of glorious happiness. I spend about three hours a day, now, commuting to and from work. At first, this was hell on earth for me. Why was God punishing me in such a way? Why was he taking away from my precious Netflix and Xbox time? (Which was obviously so productive.) However, as my stress levels have gradually lowered over the weeks and months, my attitudes towards things and people have also changed. I now try to use that time on the train to study Japanese, at which I’m still awful, or if I’m feeling particularly adventurous intellectually, play Draw Something with strangers. Am I particularly different as a person? No. I still call a spade a spade and I’d still tell Theresa May she was a right rascal for running through those fields of wheat. Yet, I think I’m close to the Peter of 2014 again - inwardly content, a little bit poorer and most importantly, not having to deal with ridiculous shit, every single, living day. Every once in a while, someone will cut across me or walk too slowly because they’re playing Bejewelled and the Mercutio inside me will rise up, placing curses upon houses big and small. Thankfully, this is the exception these days, rather than the norm.
There are many differences between here and China which have seriously contributed to my newly relaxed persona. The main reason being, that almost anywhere you go, it is peacefully quiet. The main avenues are bustling and noisy like anywhere else in the world, but you only have to walk around 5 minutes in Tokyo to find a little peace and quiet and (usually) cute streets and houses. Anybody who knows me well, knows that this would suit my personality perfectly, as there were times where I felt like I just couldn’t escape the noise in China. Another reason is my job. Whilst I officially worked less hours in China, during that time, I was worked to the bone. My schedule is generally a lot better and it gives me time to have a bit of a mental break between classes. There is also, virtually no emphasis on sales which allows me the time to get on with my classes and not have to worry about issues other than teaching. The weather in Tokyo is also considerably better than where I lived before in China. Whilst rainy season is starting, the temperature has generally been around the 25-30 mark for almost the entire time I’ve been here. As the humidity is far lower, I can actually go outside and enjoy myself when it’s sunny. A friend once referred to my old city - Changsha - as feeling like for six months of the year, you were walking through custard. The humidity was so stifling that sweat would exit from orifices you didn’t even know existed. Combine that with considerably less pollution and most days have beautiful blue skies and melting sunsets which would make, even Ebenezer Scrooge a happy man.
It’s not until you leave somewhere like China that you sometimes realise what you’ve been missing. For example, the pollution, at least in the south of China, never seemed as bad as what is produced in by the media with photoshop etc. and it’s not until you leave that you realise what a real overcast day looks like. Grey, but with a variation of tone and breaks in the cloud. Another thing which you can sometimes take for granted is internet freedom. This is something which I’m going to touch on in a later post, but it’s amazing to be able to use normal websites, applications and social media again. People reading this may think, ‘What a loser’ but try going to China and having many of your civil liberties taken away from you and then tell me how you feel. There were a lot of very good Chinese alternatives but most have little or no English interface and when you’re living abroad, the more familiar tools you have to make life easier, makes such a difference.
I would be lying if I said it’s been easy to get used to living in Japan, however. There are many things that are very different from western culture and many things different from my own expectations. These range from the small and comical to bigger and deeper issues. For example in Japan, many toilets - as well as having all the usual anus cleaning gadgets - have a tiny sink built into the lid of the tank. This is designed in order to save water when flushing the toilet, as the water used to clean your hands is then recycled to clean the toilet bowl afterwards. I, however, am not always the brightest spoon in the set and hadn’t worked this out. Japan is quite a strict and conformist society, which if you ever visit, can be quite intimidating if you don’t know what’s happening. So, for my first week, unsure whether or not it was acceptable to use the kitchen sink to clean my teeth, I instead spent the first seven days flushing the toilet every time I wanted to brush my teeth in order to use the tiny lid sink, before rapidly cleaning my teeth and brush so I didn’t have to flush the bog again. As a result, I probably wasted more water than I saved any and actually ended up breaking every social etiquette rule anyway by gobbing Colgate down the toilet sink. Nearly four months in and I’m pretty comfortable with these kind of things now, but issues do still arise and presumably will still arise for a long time to come. That, however, is on the smaller end of the scale along with other bad habits such as slouching, putting your hands in your pockets, folding your arms or eating/drinking whilst walking or standing up. That last one is an annoying one. This is the 21st century. Sometimes there are simply not enough hours in the day.
On the larger end of that scale, there are things you can do which can deeply offend others due to Japan being an honour centred society. I thought I was prepared for this after my experiences in China where I dealt with constant lying and saving face, but the level is so much higher here than I ever expected it to be. From my experience so far, Japanese people never say ‘no’. That doesn’t mean they’re saying ‘yes’, however and it can be very hard - as a foreigner - to gauge people’s true emotions and feelings. People will often tell you one thing to protect their reputation but actually mean something totally different. As someone who is foreign to Japanese culture, it can feel deeply offensive when this kind of thing happens, such as making new friends or when trying to date. However, after two years in China, I had begun to work out when others were ‘saving face’ in a social situation, so I try to think in the same way here. Eventually it will become clearer and easier to understand. It’s generally easier to accept in Japan as Japanese people take care of themselves with such grace and dignity most (if not all) of the time as well as being very respectful of others around them.
To finish and summarise the courtesy shown to each other in Japan; one day I was walking through the streets of Shibuya - one of the busiest areas of Tokyo and home to the Scramble Crossing which you will have undoubtedly seen on TV - when I heard the sound of sirens. People began to look around the we saw an ambulance approaching from behind, so naturally people stopped to let it turn off onto a side street. As the ambulance turned at the crossing I was waiting at, the next I heard over the vehicle’s microphone system,
‘Arigatou gozaimasu.’ or, a polite way of saying, thank you very much. I just hope some poor patient wasn’t dying in the back due to politeness and courtesy...
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Kama kama kama kama kama Kamakura...
During my time in Tokyo, I’ve rarely ventured out of the city limits meaning that at times, I have felt a little bit like a cooped up chicken. Albeit, one who drinks beer and eats at a copious number of restaurants.. Firstly because my Japanese is still in that phase of, what’s it called? Oh yeah, sucking. Secondly though, Japan is pretty expensive. Eating out is actually really reasonable but the price of transport and hotels compared to other East Asian countries nips at the pockets, to put it mildly. Recently, I wanted to watch some rugby in a neighbouring city, only one hour by bullet train from Tokyo but for a simple day trip - train and match tickets - not including food, transport to the stadium and, of course, beer, it was going to cost me around £130. But, for only a snip at around £14 return, you could visit the lovely seaside town of Kamakura situated in Kanagawa prefecture, also only an hour from Tokyo by slow train. Well, that’s exactly what I did.
Kamakura is the former political centre of Japan so there are many temples, shrines and other attractions as well as being popular as a seaside resort. Kamakura is one of the most densely populated places in terms of temples and shrines, I have ever seen. Just one look at the map of the town and you can’t help but notice the sheer number. Plan for a couple of days if you really want to see them all. Combined with it’s surfer town culture, you could literally bring six generations of a family here and manage to keep everyone entertained. I started off by visiting the beach, meandering past the surf shops and trendy cafes before sitting with my packed lunch and enjoying the sound of the ocean for the first time in a long time. It was a Sunday, so despite it being cloudy, the beach was packed. There are also numerous beach bars similar to the one pictured below for those like myself, who love a beer and a strawberry daiquiri chaser. I then walked up into the town, visiting first, the Goryo Shrine and then Hasedera Temple. The former is dedicated to a brave samurai warrior, whilst the latter displays an eleven-headed Kannon statue - a buddhist statue. Two of the statues were commissioned in 721 AD before one was thrown into the sea. When it returned in 736, it was enshrined in Haedera, now representing compassion, mercy and love. The scale and presentation of the Buddhist statue were particularly impressive, especially in comparison to others that I’ve seen in the past which often look like Charlie from down the street has bought a mould your own Buddha set and painted it, whilst high on acid. There were rather large crowds, however, so if you enjoy the tranquillity of religious locations somewhere like the Goryo Shrine can be a better option.
After visiting the shrine and temple, I decided to go for a very slight change of scenery and visit the Daibutsu Great Buddha of Kamakura. It was only around a ten minute walk from Hasedera and along the way, you can check out local cafes, souvenir shops and even pick up some Great Buddha beer and ice cream. The beer was particularly good - a light tasting black beer, brewed locally - and apparently only available to buy in Kamakura. Hipsters in the audience...come on down! However, it is only about £3 a bottle, depending on where you buy it so seriously, fill your pockets. By the time I reached Daibutsu it was already around 3pm and what had been an overcast day, was now a beautiful summer’s day. Great, you may think, but not for this Ulsterman. To cut a long story short, I got thoroughly sunburnt like the curly potato that I am and even by 3pm, I could feel my skin reddening, tightening and generally pressurising like a cartoon kettle. As a result, I spent most of my time observing the Buddha from the side, draped in the shade of the temple grounds. Half observing how big the thing was and half thinking about which aftersun lotion I would need to buy on my journey home. I read that it’s the second biggest Buddha statue in Japan at around 13m behind one in Nara’s Todaiji Temple, however, I did spot another in Ibaraki prefecture that was similar in size to the Statue of Liberty. Whether this isn’t considered a real Buddhist statue, similar to the knock-off Sphinx or Eiffel Tower replicated in Las Vegas, I don’t know but it was bloody massive. So massive I felt like Godzilla was watching me from across the valley.
After visiting the Great Buddha, I figured it was time to get the hell out of Dodge before I burst into flames, possibly to be spoken of as an ancient myth another 1300 years down the line. On my way back to the station, I picked up some local crisps which are fried in front of you meaning they’re fresh and hot. Seriously, get some! I got matcha salt on top of mine which was strange, new and delicious but there are other toppings such as chilli or garlic to choose from. Finally I stopped off at a shopping street adjacent to the train station and picked up some lovely stuff which I can honestly say I’ve never used again. There are a good selection of street foods and drinks though as well as sweets and desserts so it’s definitely worth having a look!
Finally check out some of my photos from the day below!
Above: Daibutsu in all her (...or his) glory.
Below: Turns out my dog has ran away from home and is now running her own cafe by the coast. What a rascal.
Above: A view over Kamakura from Hasedera temple.
Above: An example of the typical kind of shop you might find in Kamakura. I particularly liked the name of this place. After much thought though, I still don’t know what I want to do...
Below: One of many beach bars that serve big people drinks.
Above: The quieter ‘Goryo Shrine’. So quiet, in fact, this guy could hear my camera in silent mode.
Below: The delicious crisps I mentioned earlier. Seek them out like they’re gold.
#An Ulsterman Abroad#Kamakura#Travel#Blog#Travel Japan#Japan#Tokyo#Religion#Satire#Lit#Funny#Kanagawa
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Two very special guards at this Tokyo car garage on Tuesday. Welcome to Japan lads!
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Just over three years ago, an Ulsterman went to work where few Ulstermen and women have worked before - China. There were many adventures. Many amazing people. Many tantrums and much disbelief. But there was also an abundance of warmth and experiences. Today, that Ulsterman returns, determined to bring a new meaning to the term ‘food coma.’ Posts to follow soon! 我哥哥中国我回来！
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Welcome to the Land of the Rising Sun
So, the next journey begins. If you haven’t been clued in by the title already, I’ve since packed up my life once more and moved to Tokyo, Japan. I don’t know if there are any other Tokyo’s in the world but I felt that added ‘Japan’ was necessary for some reason. I made this decision with a little more trepidation than the last one. Despite the fact I never actually wanted to go to China, to cut a long story short, I basically packed a bag and left and never really thought twice about it. The experience was great and despite the many problems, there were many more positives than negatives. Again, for any potential new readers, don’t take this blog as the be all and end all of my life, I tend to focus on the differences in culture of living abroad than the overwhelming number of positives which come out of it. And trust me, there are many. However, this time, I knew I would encounter a lot of similar problems to those which I despised the first time around and I thought to myself, can I really be fucked with this again? No prizes for guessing the answer to that question - sorry. So here I am, ready to take on potential earthquakes, Japan’s appalling standard of English and hopefully not sumo wrestlers, as I would most certainly melt into a pile of wax before living to tell that tale.
I visited Japan last year, so I wasn’t going in blind this time. Think less Stevie Wonder, more jumbo jet pilot. After two flights, long-haul resulting constipation and a monster ten hour lay-over in Dehli, I made it to Tokyo, struggling like a burger in a vegan beauty contest, craving nothing but a good afternoon’s sleep. My second, first impressions of Tokyo were, ‘Why is it so quiet?’ and ‘Can I get off this train without accidentally killing someone with my magnitude of luggage?’ I don’t know if it’s because I came, indirectly, via China but Japan is always so quiet and people seem constantly on edge. It’s like if someone were to drop a loaf of bread; the impact noise alone could result in someone having a heart attack, only to be proceeded by someone giving deathly silent but massively efficient CPR in the corner. Then out of sheer duty and significance of honour, if they’re not already dead, the recovering patient would most likely go and pick up the loaf of bread, returning it to it’s owner, apologising in the process for having a heart attack in the corner.
Another adjustment I had to make since coming to Japan was the introduction of bowing. Until the date of my entry into Japan, I think I had bowed a grand total of three times in my life - all delivered during an horrific portrayal of Uncle Henry in a primary seven, school production of the Wizard of Oz. Honestly, I’m still not totally sure when I really should bow to people so I’ve found, if in doubt, just bow like it’s the king in the north. As a result I’m walking about like a 32-bit video game character, making tiny bows towards every Tom, Dick and Harry. I witnessed a hairdresser and his customer exchanging this custom about a week ago and it was both fascinating and enraging. It was wonderful to see the respect that these two people had towards each other but as the girl was leaving, she obviously bowed in thanks, before the hairdresser bowed lower. The girl then bowed lower again and this continued for what felt like an eternity. I was wondering what would happen first; either one of them would get stuck mid-bow or we would all die waiting for the process to end. I was quietly ecstatic, even, to receive a bow from a local security guard one morning as I was merely passing by. To say that my experience with security/bouncers in the UK was less than favourable would be an understatement. I had a friend - a good bloke I should add - who was qualified in security and he admitted to me that he and many others often do it to wind people up. I guess the less said about the that class of people, the better.
My plan for this year is to inform you about weird and wonderful things every week so keep your eyes open on a Sunday night/Monday morning for wacky shit. I was actually planning on going to a penis festival next weekend out of sheer, journalistic purposes and to smash the boundaries of my comfort zone but it turns out that was this weekend. I guess you’ll have to wait until next year to see all those dicks...
Ulsterman
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I'm Gonna Take You To A Game Bar
It’s no secret that in East Asian countries such as Japan there’s a massive anime and fantasy culture. I won’t claim to know the full ins and outs of it but I’ve largely gathered it’s used as an form of escapism from the strict and family based, traditional society which is still very prevalent in countries like Japan and China. This sort of escapism is also very common in China and above you can see, to some extent, the level of indoctrination in society that these games can hold.
This gaming tournament, exhibited to the public was relatively low scale, however, it was complete with supporters, commentators and a seemingly endless renewal of free snacks for the competitors. Not mention the prize money - a whopping 100,000RMB (£10,000 or about £1.6bn in post-Brexit sterling) whilst second place took home 30,000RMB (£3000). Not bad for a few days work. And yeah, you heard that right. Three days of constant gaming. A daily hour of Fifa is about the limit of my attention span, although that’s the same for most of the things in my life. Given the option, I’d still probably be playing in a ball pit, eating crayons and throwing up on my fingers 24/7 if I didn’t have so much ‘adulting’ to do.
Joking aside, however, it is crazy what you will often see in day-to-day life whilst walking around China. My grandma was barely able to turn on her mobile phone when she did, actually, have one before yet it’s common to see 70-80 year old women playing Candy Crush while they take their grandchildren on the bus or metro. Guess who gets the most attention. I’ll give you a clue, it’s not the unruly and unsupervised little snotters left to freely impale their faces on a bus seat…
During my time in China it was very rare that you would even catch a glimpse of a book store. I’m not saying books are the be all and end all of life, but it becomes much more difficult to educate your people if books become harder to obtain than Adele concert tickets on Valentines Day. It wasn’t actually until my final journey out of my city that I spotted the state-run book store after over two years. Whilst it’s often filled with shameless propaganda, the insightful books are also there which could be key educators, if study and diversity were better promoted by the government.
For now it’s time to say 再见中国 (Goodbye China) and Konnichiwa Japan こんにちは日本! The Ulsterman Abroad is seeking a happier and calmer life in the Land of the Rising Sun and I look forward to sharing my new adventures with you. This time, hopefully with a glass half full attitude. Or at least a quarter…
This isn’t the end for China, however, over the next few weeks I will be sharing some stories I considered too sensitive for within the borders of the Middle Kingdom, so stay tuned for those! Whilst this blog has mainly focused on the ridiculous or the negative, I’d like to let it be known that I will never forget the wonderful memories I have from China that I don’t talk about in this blog often. From the wonderfully friendly people, the amazing friends I’ve made, the beautiful food I’ve ate to the often beautiful, if not a little polluted scenery, it’s been an amazing experience.
Goodbye China and thank you for the hospitality!
谢谢你
P.S For those asking, the X-Rated version will not be included in the sensitive stories section...
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Shang-Hiya!
Over three years ago, I left my home in the UK to embark on a journey that I have been terrified to bring to an end ever since. Over two of those years were spent in China in what can only be described as a love-hate relationship but what can’t be argued against, are the amazing opportunities and memories it provided me with. For my two week winter break (now extended for four as I lost my passport), I decided to return to where it all began and spend two weeks in Shanghai. How did you lose your passport Peter? I literally have no idea. Six hours before my flight back to Japan, I realised it had simply vanished off the face of the earth, or been stripped and sold for spare parts by triads. (Probably not the latter) As a result, I have some spare time to explore Shanghai and show you a side that you may never have seen before. Happy new year everyone and check out some of my journey below!
While there are many shining and modern high-rises in Shanghai, many Shanghainese still live in more traditional housing such as above, full of character and stories. One of the downsides about China is that there is such a boom in property development and this has led to the arguably the same style and layout of apartment being reproduced, millions of times across the country. Many times, you will go to a friend’s house and you’ll think, this is spacious, clean and airy but it lacks a personal touch.Often, it doesn’t feel like a home. Areas such as this have a different feel and walking through them, you can feel the soul of the people bursting from the windows. Below, you can see the old mixed with the towering new in the background.
College dorms at Jiaotong University looking out upon local students playing basketball.
Many of Shanghai’s streets, like below, are lined with beautiful trees which hang over the roads like a canopy. It’s a sight which I have very rarely seen in China and gives Shanghai a very different feel to many other cities I’ve travelled to. Despite it being the deep of winter, the leaves are still falling from the abundance of trees, swirling in the air, leaving you feeling a connection to nature, even in the heart of the city.
One of the greatest things about China, for me, is the food. Every area of China offers a different array of food. The Chinese food offered up in the west isn’t really indicative of what’s on offer. Often, what looks like the dingiest and dirtiest place on the street is where you will get the best food, cooked like a homemade meal. Above, you see a bowl of pork and scallion wonton which cost me 12rmb for 12 (about £1.40) and you can literally watch it being made in front of you. Below is a type of steamed bun, however this one is mainly fried and with a selection of flavours. These are filled with pork and as you bite into them, scalding soup bursts out of them which is eventually cool enough to consume without causing premature death.Mushroom, shrimp and mixed vegetable fillings are also popular. These cost me 8rmb for four(about £1) although the child’s foot below isn’t included
The modern finanacial area as seen from the Bund contrasts distinctly in comparison to the European and Chinese architecture on view in much of the rest of the city. Unfortunately, I’ve never been lucky enough to see this sight on a really clear day where the buildings really light up but it’s still an amazing spectacle.
Below: A photo from July 2016 of the skyline at night.
One area of Shanghai which is worth checking out is TianZiFang, the photos of which you can see below. Many cities popular with tourists in China usually have an area, seemingly traditional in architecture and selling all the crap of the day and usually X is a carbon copy of Y, but in another city. For example, if you go to Lijiang (featured on Ulsterman before) it seems like a beautiful and unqiue city but when you realise it’s maze of streets are just a copy of each other, selling the same snacks, teas and souvenirs, it’s quite disappointing. Despite my initial prejudice, though, TianZiFang felt a little different for me. There were locally made snacks on offer by people selling out of their own homes. Shanghai-based clothes sellers are selling independent clothing. There are tiny bars where you can sit outside and watch people going about their day, all amongst a labyrinth of small streets and alleyways. The traditional feel of the old homes and factories is still in tact and if you don’t go on a weekend (when there are considerably less people), it is actually quite pleasant to walk around. Check out the bottom for my personal favourite shop in TianZiFang.
Above: If you’re feeling cramped in TianZiFang’s tiny streets, you can take a short walk to the avenues surrounding it for a breather and this wonderful scene.
Below: I personally loved this ice cream shop using Vladimir Putin as an advertising tool to entice customers, as if Putin bloody loves an ice cream from TianZiFang. As we say in Ireland, ‘Get it down ‘ye big lad!’
My personal favourite: Childhood. As I walked past, I was enticed by the warm interior of the shop. And the candy...
Take a look at what I found.
Nothing screams childhood for me like chocolate condoms. I remember at ten years old asking my parents what condoms were. This would’ve been a much easier answer for them.
We all used candy sticks like cigarettes. Let’s not lie. It was cool as fuck and buying a box of Tom and Jerry Candy sticks essentially made you the godfather. Marketing them as actual cigarettes in the west nowadays, however, would be a dream of a lawsuit for the politically correct raccoons, I mean, very intelligent people of the free world. China, you go girl!
Edible fanny pads. I have no more...
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I’m a Foreigner, Get Me Out of Here
It’s famously said that money only becomes unimportant when you have it, making it easy to say that making money isn’t everything in life. Maybe this is true, as right now, I make more money than I’ve ever made in my life and more than I’m likely to make for the foreseeable future. Yet I’m glad to come to the realisation that, for me, money isn’t everything in life. In my current situation, if I were to continue as I am, I would have a considerable pay increase, year-on-year, several opportunities for promotion as well as continuing professional development. However, despite all of this, I’ve decided to bring my time in China to a close in the early part of next year. When I say China, I don’t mean just Changsha - the city which I currently live - but everywhere. I also find it very unlikely that I’ll ever return, such is my dismay at the moment. In the past year I have travelled to five countries, I’ve saved money, I’ve eaten luxuriously and I’ve bought what I wanted, yet I’m happy to trade it all in for a culture in which I don’t feel like some form of paraded and prized cow.
In a recent conversation I was asked,
‘Foreigners come to China and they take our money, Yet why do they constantly complain about how money-orientated Chinese culture is? Foreigners are just the same.’
Ignoring the widely-held Chinese belief that there are simply two countries on this earth - China and this so-called ‘Foreign’ country, I responded by saying,
‘Yes, foreigners do come here and make good salaries and yes, they often make much more than the normal Chinese citizen. However, from common experience, other than those who’ve settled down with a family, these ‘foreigners’ always leave, despite the magnitude of money on offer. Very few people, unless they’re in a difficult situation, are willing to actually tolerate the amount of shit they have to experience on a daily basis to make that money.’
The worst part about my situation is that as a white, British, native-English speaking male, I have it better than most others. It’s very rare that I encounter anyone, on a professional basis at least, that isn’t educated or doesn’t speak English. When ignorance is rife amongst that class of people, you know you’re going to have serious problems. Those with dark-skin have it the worst of all, despite China’s many, ‘friendly’ links with a multitude of African countries. They may make deals with fellow governments but the Chinese government seems to do very little to educate its own people as to the nature of other cultures and races. In essence, ‘if you’re black, you’re from Africa. If you’re brown, you’re from India and everyone else is from America’ and that’s if you’re lucky.
One of the biggest problems you would expect to have when moving to any country, not just just China, is the language barrier. Over the past two years, I have made great efforts to learn Chinese to the extent that I’m actually quite proud of what I’ve accomplished. On a daily basis, has it helped? Yes, definitely. I’m largely able to look after myself without relying on others for help and in my first year here, in particular, it was useful for generally socialising and experiencing a different aspect of Chinese culture.
In my second year though, I’m sad to say that has changed, greatly. What I hear now though, are mainly negative things. I hear people asking if they’re going to have a black teacher or white teacher. I hear people saying that all foreigners are they same. There’s no such thing as a difference between Americans or British or Australians because it’s said ‘it’s none of our business.’ The concept of ‘saving face’ becomes more apparent as you can tell people are lying straight to your face to protect their own honour. The ability to understand Chinese becomes both a blessing and a curse as you really begin to see how people think and operate. As a result, despite having the potential to really excel in learning Chinese, over the past six months, my interest has waned significantly as I realised, I never want to have to use this language again. I don’t want to deal with these businesses again or these people which, for me, is actually really sad. I’ve had too many conversations with people who have told me, ‘Oh yeah, I had a black teacher once, he was actually ok.’ Or others who’ve said, ‘I hate Japan so much,’ yet six months later they’re on holiday in Tokyo, being driven to and from the airport in their own, Japanese car. Maybe I have been really unfortunate but I’ve met very few people who are actually able to present objective opinions on any kind of subject matter, whether that relates to mental illness, religion, sexuality, racism, society or other cultures. I try to think about this objectively, myself. Maybe the people here aren’t to blame. China has only recently began to open up and the media is heavily influential with no real scope of opinion but ignorance isn’t an excuse. We don’t accept it at home, so why should we here?
I will leave you for now, with one final story. I was working out in the gym about a month ago and a man approached me and started speaking with me in English. I usually work out alone so I usually enjoy talking to others in the gym, despite my usual reservations. We talked for a little and after a few minutes, he told me he had his own English school. If he was a cartoon I would’ve seen the money signs flash across his eyes. I knew what was coming next and I only had to wait a few minutes to hear it.
‘So, would you like to come and work for me in your free time?’
I politely declined as I already have very little spare time and went back to my workout. He asked for my number and I reservedly gave it to him. I could tell he was disappointed I’d turned him down but I also felt disappointed that I was able to work out, for exactly what reason he was talking to me. For someone of my race and nationality, I knew he would probably make around £100-£150 an hour, for a class of ten kids roughly, if not more. After declining, I can confirm I never heard from that guy again.
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Pick It and Flick It, Just Don’t Lick It
Over the past two years I’ve been lucky enough to have two fantastic jobs and as a result, the opportunity to travel to some wonderful places. In my previous post, I mentioned one of those places - Japan. I’ve wanted to go to Japan for a few years now, so when I got the opportunity to go at last minutes notice, it was a chance I jumped at. My time in Shanghai, while reasonably pleasant, was hotter and stickier than an Arab’s g-string and I knew this feeling would accompany me in the majority of places I was open to going to China. I booked a flight and 12 hours later I was on the plane to Tokyo, swapping chicken feet for sushi and delicious breaded pork cutlets.
The first thing that struck me about Japan was that I was, in fact, lost. I assumed, like every other major city I’ve been to, there’d be a direct metro link to the city centre were I could easily transfer to find my hotel’s nearest metro station. There wasn’t. There were multiple options to get out of the airport but nothing clear or concise to the point that I may as well have been looking at multiple quadratic equations - something I never mastered at school. It turns out that some of Japan’s transportation system seems to be publicly owned, whilst some publicly which leads to what is known as an utter mind-fuck. By the time I found my hotel it was almost 12 hours after leaving Shanghai and I was suitably shagged.
Spending a lot of time on public transport however, gives you time to observe those very people - the public. The comparisons between the Chinese and Japanese couldn’t be more stark. Firstly, on the trains themselves, you’re not allowed to speak on the phone or loudly for that matter. In China, while the metro is probably the more civilised of the public transport modes on offer, it can sometimes feel like you’re at a public auction, with eyes often on you, being sold to the latest, nouveaux-riche country bumpkin. Getting on and off the train can also feel like sparring with gladiators until the death as people battle past each other both getting on and off the train. Before getting accustomed to Chinese public transport in my early days, only my sheer size prevented me getting eaten alive by hunched grandmothers with better clearing skills than NFL linebackers. In Japan, the patience and respect shown to others came like orgasmic relief, being able to board a train without using my elbows as makeshift tridents.
Flashback to just last week, whilst riding the bus, I was fortunate enough to sit next to Chinas equivalent of Posh and Becks. Whilst Becks was clipping his nails and firing them here, there and everywhere, his wife was picking her nose so violently there was danger of her self-lobotomising. She was picking so viciously that I concluded she must have been searching for some form of benign tumour, lodged on the inside of her skull. To finish, she looked at it and hurled it, landing like a javelin in the middle of the aisle.
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Commencing Countdown, Engines On
Dear readers, I’m sorry for the quiet 2016 thus far. A friend recently described China to me in this way - first, comes the honeymoon period in which everything is rosy and the sheer madness of China tends to fascinate you at every turn. For me, I would say this period lasted around 7 to 8 months, nevertheless, with a few minor issues thrown in during that time. Secondly, comes the period anything and everything drive you, to what feels like the point of insanity. After a brief respite in Ireland around the turn of the year, I am now firmly at this point. Finally, there’s the period where you’re just used to it. This is a period which I hope never to reach. My silence in 2016 is down to the second factor - the fact that simply nothing is funny anymore. Just disgusting. That will come at a later time, however. Right now, I’m back to talk about the weird and wonderful as I embark on my final six months in China.
One of the main reasons I came to China in the first place was not to travel, but to extinguish my own, narrow-minded prejudices of the world, which, growing up in Northern Ireland, seem to be easily developed. I think I have went some way to improving on those prejudices I previously held. For example, the recent debate around immigration in the UK and subsequent vote to leave the EU put my faith in British people in serious doubt. Those who voted to leave, thought that by voting to leave, the UK economy could recover sufficiently because of a lack of EU migrants claiming benefits. In actual fact, there were more UK citizens living abroad in the EU, claiming benefits than there were the other way around. Rather than say the vote to the leave was a bad decision, I think it’s better to say that the true facts and figures weren’t there to make such a drastic decision. This is something that, before coming to China, I myself probably couldn’t have rationalised either. During a recent trip to Japan, I went someway further to further rationalising my own prejudices. Ashamedly so, I came to China with the assumption that everything in Asia was a bit mental, but I was prepared for the challenge. The people of Japan changed that however and quietly, both surprised and scared me.
Before travelling to Japan, I spent a few days in Shanghai towards the start of July, expecting it to be a bit more rational than the area in which I live and to a large extent, it was. You could cross the road safely, people seem to have a better appreciation of rules and personal space, despite it being a very busy city and the metro is less like a cattle grid, but more of a space for actual human beings. But there were times were you realise, you’re in China, and you can’t escape it’s negative aspects sometimes. For example, when standing at the Bund, it felt like more people wanted to have a picture taken with me than the fascinating buildings behind. Obviously this is a slight exaggeration but as a foreigner living in China, you expect to escape that kind of segregation in a place like Shanghai. A similar incident occurred when I was sitting quietly alone, at a highly commercialised ‘old town’. I was simply minding my own business, eating some tasty street food I’d bought when a kid came up to me and got his phone out, turning the camera on. I wasn’t particularly happy but he was only a child so I let it pass. His family took this, however, as an invitation for more photos and the next thing I know, I’m wedged between 5 people with a battered shrimp in my mouth and five phones in my face. Shortly after, a man approached me and started to talk to me. A lot of people in China want to practice their English so I chatted with him and he told me a little about the local area. After about five minutes, I asked him what he did and he said he was an artist.
‘Let me show you.’ He said. Oh no. Here were go again. After cutting my face out of a piece of paper with some tiny scissors, giving me a hook nose and three chins, he tried to charge me £4 for the bastard thing. He claimed I should’ve paid for it as I’d been living in China for two years and I should have understood his dishonesty. That night, thoroughly fed up, I booked a flight to Japan and left at 8AM the next morning...
To be continued.
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2015: The Year of the Bucket
Hello faithful readers!
As 2015 comes to a close and 2016 beckons, I thought it fitting to reminisce on the past year and the many adventures with which it’s brought. As is usually true for most people, it’s been a year of both ups and downs, but for me personally, one of self discovery. After the final chaotic months of 2014, the new year brought me a chance to finally settle and begin to achieve things outside of academic progress. Life in the real world began and boy, has it been wonderful. I’ve met some of the best people I think I’ll ever meet, whilst also encountering some utter fucking morons. But with every tasty Big Mac you eat, comes a wealth of saturated fats and horrible flatulence, so I guess, that’s something you’ll never avoid.
2015 started in somewhat dire circumstances in fact. That is, unless, you call waking up on a pool table at 6AM a good start to the new year. Followed up by walking through a McDonald’s drive-thru, it wasn’t a successful beginning. The bitter coldness of January ensured it was a thoroughly miserable start to the new year. It would be another three months before it would become warm enough for testicle descent to happen once again. Life as a kindergarten teacher, whilst often rewarding, is one of very few holidays. So, after four months in China, it was great to finally get the opportunity in February to travel around the country for the first time. I visited some beautiful cities, towns and cities but the one memory I took from it was the fear I experienced waking up shortly after midnight on Chinese New Year. Shortly after going to bed early due to being horrifically burnt in 12 degree heat, I was awoken at midnight in what I thought was 1960s Belfast. It turns out it was just the Chinese going mad in the streets with fireworks, but nevertheless, the next half an hour was spent cleaning the metaphorical shit that had escaped all over the bed.
March was an utterly miserable month as the pollution took over, I lost half a stone because of illness and we then got kicked out of our apartment for refusing to teach a couple of rich, fat Chinese kids English for free. This was one of a number of factors that prompted me to return to the UK at the end of the month. Myself and China were in a face-off and I decided to run for the hills - the Antrim Hills to be precise. The Ulsterman was home. My time at home was refreshing and after remembering how to use a knife and fork, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about saying ‘zai jian’ (goobye) to China and packing it all in. Matters were made worse after I returned two weeks later and one of the first things I saw was a child - permitted by his mother - pissing all over the floor of a train station. A few days in Hong Kong though, calmed me down and I returned to my job, refreshed and invigorated. Not to mention, the weather at that point was absolutely beautiful.
April became May and May became June and the beautiful weather turned to hell. Literal hell. 38 degrees and 80-90% humidity, if not higher, was something I’d never experienced before. Sweat began to pour out of orifices I never even knew existed and I was left with no option but to shave my beard as the moustache developed into a sweaty, humid sponge. As a result, I looked ten years younger but felt ten years older as most of my free time was spent nakedly star-fished below my air conditioner whilst I wasn’t at work. I then became the pastiest man in China, to the extent that by the time summer was ending in August, I was whiter than in February. Going outside just wasn’t an option. A trip to Hong Kong and Macao in July provided a bit of relief as the humidity wasn’t quite so bad by the sea. In true fashion, we visited the famous casinos of Macao but as usual, had absolutely no money to gamble. Talk about the shittest James Bond ever.
August passed with few revelations and with September came my 23rd birthday and one of the best birthdays I’ve probably had. One whiskey bucket too many came into play, however and as usual, it all ended prematurely. A potato themed party was the result of global stereotypes coming into play, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it. In October, I took a trip to a smog-free Beijing, much to my amazement and because of the weather, it was a wonderful place. When the smog started to form again on the final days, however, it started to feel like living in Stalin’s arsehole and I was glad to be leaving by the end of the week. I also think I consumed a ‘donkey burger’ at one point by accident and it’s something I’m keen to forget as quickly as possible. A few weeks later I was brought to a Buddhist mountain which was fantastic and beautiful but at the summit, the Chinese were testing the boundaries of general health and safety by throwing fireworks into a live fire. It’s safe to say, I didn’t hang around in fear of prematurely meeting my maker.
It turned out that was my final trip in China before departing in December apart from one, smoggy stopover in Guangzhou. In my final weeks however, I came to love the people I was connected with, both Chinese and foreign friends/co-workers and it was with a hint of sadness that I eventually left. Something was calling me home, even though it was wildly inconvenient and pricier than a Soho hooker. This will be the last Ulsterman Abroad, for a while at least, and while I will most likely return to China in the new year, it has been a pleasure to share my ridiculous journey with you and thanks for reading! Until next year, it’s goodbye from the Ulsterman Abroad!
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The End’s Not Near, It’s Here
With only three weeks remaining, my time in China, for this year at least, is gradually coming to a close. It’s hard to believe that it’s been over a year since I embarked on my journey of discovery, but it’s safe to say that it’s been a hell of a rollercoaster ride. Ironically, I’ve never been on a rollercoaster except for the kids’ one at Barry’s by the sea in Northern Ireland and it’s one of the few things my friends here have been pestering me to do. I’m afraid though, that there is probably a better chance of me indulging in three courses of stinky tofu, frogs’ bollocks and a rabid alsation than getting on a rollercoaster any day soon. Adapting to standing up on buses and trains in China is quite enough excitement for one year I think. Perhaps next year, after a refreshing winter break in Ireland, we may be able to organise a quick ride on the teacups.
One of the main arguments I have faced over the past year, both internally and externally, is the East v West debate. After moving to China, I all of a sudden became a Westerner. This was not a term I was altogether comfortable with if I’m honest. To be categorised in the same band as the toffy, ‘politically correct’ English and the stupidly happy, obese Americans wasn’t entirely flattering. However, it could be argued, I guess, that they in fact are also offended at being associated with a ‘drunken, potato-eating cunt’ like myself. So, it’s swings and roundabouts, I guess. Whilst I’m still firmly of the belief that the ‘free and democratic world’ of the West is a better and more prosperous place to live, by living in China, you do begin to see how the shoe looks on the other foot. When you notice America being caught red handed, spying on more countries than a virigin on hookers and the increasing poverty gap in the UK, you wonder, are we so much better? From the outskirts, China is openly spying on everybody and whilst the percentage of poverty stricken people is still enormous, at least there seem to be, ironically, capitalist opportunities for Chinese citizens to make their fortune here. If you’re poor in the UK, well, you’re lucky if you can get a 1000 week unpaid apprenticeship, with little or no guarantee of employment at the end of it. It’s either that or you work for Poundland, selling mutipacks of Kit-Kats to Fat Dave from up the street, making two buttons and a piece of string per hour on a zero hour contract.
Anyway, it wouldn’t be An Ulsterman Abroad without a few gifts from the Chinese people themselves. As I have previously mentioned, I’m starting to become accustomed to their ways so very little seems as ludicrous as it used to. But every now and again, a little gem pops up. To begin with, I was unfortuntely sprayed on with vomit a few weeks ago, yet again. I remember it clearly. It was approaching the end of shorts season. The weather was still unbearably stuffy, but you could tell, winter was coming. As I was sat with my wonderful friends, enjoying my cheap Chinese beer and the final days of summer, I felt the familiar sensation of warm vomit spraying up my leg. A Chinese man had projectile vomited in the booth across from us, impressively reaching my now, soaking wet leg. Note to the West. If you ever want to win a war with China, give them a fucking beer. I have also been the victim of assault on two separate occasions also. On the first occasion, an eldery Chinese man tried to run me over with his own wheelchair. Yep, you read that right...Whilst walking up a small hill, I saw that man come at me with hatred in his eyes. As he pushed his own wheelchair up that hill, he came at me like I was the final capitalist pig on earth and I’d just opened a Starbucks on his dead wife’s grave. Someone call the Benefit Busters, I think we have a winner on our hands. On the second occasion, a man tried to hit me with his scooter. He had his girlfriend on the back so I think he was trying to be the ‘big-dick’. I guess if you don’t have one, try to be one. He seemed to find it pretty funny and I was in such shock that I didn’t do an awful lot. I did, however, for the next few hours wish I’d kicked the cunt off his bike in blind rage. I guess that’ll have to wait for another day. Projectile spewing over his head should suffice, if nothing else.
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