Of course there was my lovely flatmate from down under, Matt. Then there were the yanks. Adam, a massive, massive guy with a lovely little sense of humour from Ohio. A Mormon and a photographer. Zak, a DJ and model from Boston. A very good boy. We had some laughs and messy times that ended in a messy finish. Justin, American, surely ex military. Very secretive about his past. A safe bloke. He made his kindergarten's stand in line and salute to him in class. Of this he was most proud of as he informed during him training me. He has a hello kitty tattooed on his arm holding a gun. yep. Wesley's right hand man. A very interesting pair of cats. Then of course, the existing American there was the great Glenn. His Sunday night sessions were myths that I was told about and yet to experience. Good booze, music, and stuff that became so obsessed upon getting while here like imported cheeses and salt and vinegar crisps. A thoroughly top bloke who had previously spent ten years in Japan and was in his fourth year here. He showed me around the city and introduced me to the bars and restaurants. A class act with style. And, with a pure passion for teaching English which separated him above the rest of us. There was 'Old Rodge'. A young Canadian with a love of the asian ladies. Robert, a youthful Brit who had just arrived from a year in Indonesia. A definite sex addict and talker who had no qualifications in the business but seemed to talk his way from job to job. Very happy in himself and a solid guy. Another Brit was Nesh. Very fashionable and a bit of a class above the rest. He knew his way around the London scene and was just getting a buzz of being around this special lot. And of course, my sister, Nikki. An absolute legend from New Zealand, who was almost as big as her personality. She was not one to hold back on her thoughts; To us, the students and the parents. A great laugh and was and is a ridiculous laugh to hang out, or, go out with.
A very good group. Unique in their own way and sound as it could possibly get. There were more to come. But for now we would do.
We'll get to the local teachers later. But for now these rough dogs are certainly enough.
There was a large demand for teachers even though there were a fair few of us. This resulted in me having to begin my first full day on the following day with a nine o clock start of 'starters'. very young and very cute Chinese kids with parents hopes as high as many of us were from day to day. That night sleep evaded me. It got to five in the AM and I didn't know what to do. There seemed to be no sleepers knocking about or other tasty materials that could have helped towards a good nights kip so I took the plunge and went downstairs to the 'M Shop'. 'Baijiou' here was 5rmb. Equivalent to fifty of our pennies. I bought a small bottle in a dodgy brown paper bag and drank it with difficulty. But, it went down and I did, eventually, meet dreams and sleep. The next morning I awoke and swiftly put on my smart clothes. Went to the school and did a full day of classes. They went smoothly. I realised it was an easy gig as long as you weren't shy and enjoyed yourself. Ridiculously cute kids who all said 'I'm fine thank you' when asked how they were. A bit like most off the adults. Bit strange and that. Millions of people with the same answer to a normal question. After finishing the day we all went out and got smashed. What an excellent job I had stumbled across. Would this continue? Would it prove a fitting purpose? It would. Yes sir. A very jolly profession for one like myself for the meantime.
As it happened, after my first weekend here and my virginal weekend of teaching English, it was a festival. 'Tombsweeping day'. A festival celebrated to remember those that have passed on to another place. The Chinese celebrate this by going up a mountain their previous loved ones are buried upon and burning 'lucky money' and burning incense. A lovely way to remember the deceased. We celebrated by a staff evening out to the Brazilian BBQ. A night filled with overeating and over consumption of booze. The Chinese boss, as was previously warned, instructed as to when to down our drinks, girls included. Resulting in Red faced smashed Chinese females and battered Westerners becoming more and more chauvinistic by the glass. From there we went to bar street. Bar street. Places in Dongguan are done on streets. Bar street, restaurant street, gym street etc. Bar street was alive as always and luminous. Fit Chinese women everywhere you looked and washed up businessmen and teachers alike, out for their thrill. Wesley filled us in on the local whorehouses that were, 'very professional'. We spent our pre-club night in Beijing Bar. Where I eventually realised that THE SAME tunes are played EVERY night by the two massive black dj's. Not a bad place but you could sense the dodginess of it. We continued to BB club. A Chinese club that played poppy dance music. The rich spending some serious dough on alcohol and women. When they see a foreigner they beckon you to their table to play the dice game. You lose, you drink. Do the rounds of tables and your fucked. For free.
A good night had by all. I woke up in a Chinese house miles away from the action we had been playing. On a wooden bed and a slight headache. Immediately the random Chinese whom I could not remember took me to meet their friends. And after a ridiculous piss-up of beer, white rice wine and a dubious bottle of I really don't know but with several wasps floating at the bottom of it, I was luckily driven home by someone just as fucked as I, and got back. And went to bed. What a good introduction for a country that holds so much. mmm.