It has been rough few days. Emotionally rough. In fact, so rough that I couldn’t even blog about it. I had to let it simmer in my mind and let it cool down first.

Let me see what I can remember. I don’t really remember what happened after K visited the Moneyman in his office. That was Wednesday. On Thursday, the Sadist (the teacher who,it seems,is employed only to intimidate and punish the students) gave her two extra classes with the Grade 7’s. So, if I remember correctly, our date was delayed.

After that it was very short. She had to go home to rest, was her reason. I managed to get some information out of her about what else the Moneyman had talked about. “Funny”, she said, “he had asked about you.” Apparently about how my classes were, and about my accent. I was offend by the accent question.

On Friday, J invited me and a couple of other teachers out to dinner. There was the Short Round Guy with Glasses, the Computer Guy, the Student Teacher and, of course, K and I. I wondered to myself why I said yes to this outing as they got into a cab, and nearly left without me. I knew how it would be, and I knew that a night of frustration was lying in wait, because they would speak mostly Chinese. I tried to prepare myself but failed.

I was already tired and a bit emotional, because K had been very light on conversation and overall contact with me in the week. At dinner, it went as expected, and lots of Chinese conversation took place. So, I drank beer. A bad habit, I know.

The dinner went ok. They had K and myself sit next to each other. We pretend nobody knows, everyone else pretend they don’t know, and then they insist that we sit next to each other. Perhaps because her English is good.

We ate what looked and tasted like small lobsters. “What are these?”, I had enquired from J in one of few opportunities I had to engage somebody in conversation. “Not sure what it is in English”, he replied. “Where do they come from?”, I asked again. “They swim around in the rice fields” was his reply. I was a bit sceptical, as that meant that these were really just huge insects. They were delicious nevertheless, and I paid no further thought to their origins.

We were wearing plastic gloves to eat them as they were quite messy. K had literally torn a path through the large bowl, as she was munching through them. She had a clearly well practiced technique. Her hands, consequently, were quite messy. J said something in Chinese about a bit of lobster being displayed on K’s face. He lent forward from where he was sitting opposite her at the other side of the table, and awkwardly tried to flap the tidbit of her lip. Sort of the way you would try to shoo a fly. He failed. I noticed, took a clean napkin, attracted her attention and with the care of a mother towards her new-born child, I softly, slowly and carefully wiped her clean.

I know J’s mouth was hanging open, and I didn’t then notice the rest of the table.

“Can I have some green tea, please?”, was one of two sentences she had said to me all night, me wiping her mouth obviously making her lips dry (haha, ego alert). She was sitting to my left and I had earlier moved her green tea to my right where there was space and it would be out of reach to be knocked over.

I picked up the bottle (yes, in a bottle), opened it, and placed it softly in her hand. She precariously balanced it and put it to her mouth. It sort of fell the last bit of the way, as it wasn’t balanced well. She drank a sip, and I could see that because of the balance and her grip by only her fingers on the bottom part of the bottle, she wouldn’t be able to bring it up right again. As she brought the end of the bottle down and anticipation of the end of her sip, I swiftly, yet softly, assisted the bottle and carefully took it out of her hand.

I screwed back the cap and as I turned my head from left to right to place the bottle back in the safe area of the table, I had the whole table in my field of view. I noticed everyone had stopped what they were doing for a second and was staring at me and K. I could feel myself flush a wee bit. The rest of the dinner was uneventful. I, by then, had chalked up an impressive collection of empty beer bottles, as the only thing I could really do, was toast the other members of the party.

Somebody suggested, as somebody usually does, that we should go sing. Off we went. I didn’t walk near K on purpose, so as to strengthen the illusion that there was nothing between us. In hind sight, I remember her walking with J and the Computer Guy, and I was walking with another teacher who had joined us.

The Karaoke was a disaster. Post the walk the alcohol had spread nicely through my body. I was a little drunk. We sat down, and again people ‘arranged’ for K and I to sit together. I was to her right again. She shifted her weight a little on her left hip, as a result tilting away from me. Not entirely by accident, I suspect. I felt a little frustrated. I was left with the other teacher and the Short Round Guy. We didn’t talk. I simmered. Somebody said sing this, sing that. I declined, and drank. Quickly.

I noticed K toasting everyone but me. She poured beer for the people close to her, but ignored me. I stood up and left, without saying a word. I was waiting for the Zhong Ba (the small, reckless bus) down stairs, when she came running down. “What are you doing?”, she asked, out of breath. “Going home”, I said, “I’m being ignored, I might as well not be there”. “Come back, please”, she said. She said some other things, but I now cannot remember them.

I returned and sat down. I emptied my half-cup of beer. The Short Round Guy half-filled me up, but before he had put the jug down, I emptied my glass again. He obviously saw this as a challenge and filled me up again, I emptied it again. He filled me up once more, only for me to empty it again, before K turn and took my glass away. I thought she was going to fill me up, and in my state of drunkenness only realised some time later, that she did in fact take my cup to prevent me from drinking anymore.

I sat there, emotionless. She joked, poured and drank with J and the Computer Guy, ignoring me. The computer guy lent over, said something, and she threw some pop-corn at him. I got really pissed off. She ignores me and then play-plays with this guy? I stood up, told the new teacher and the Short Round Guy that I had an early class in the morning and should go, stood opposite J, told him the same thing, and left.

I didn’t wait for the bus, instead I walked away as fast as I could. A little down the road, I flagged a Zhong Ba, and zoomed off. I had travelled for maybe 5 minutes when I realised what I did was stupid. Walking away from my emotions is not a habit, even though my track record might testify differently.

So I stopped the bus, crossed the road, and caught another Zhong Ba back. Within moments (I was a little drunk, it could have been longer) I was back at the place. Remarkably I found it quite easily. I zoomed up the stairs, and stood at the entrance, trying to see K. I couldn’t clearly see the whole area, but I could see her seat, and I saw that J was sitting in it. She was not there. Just then the other teacher came past. “Where’s K?”, I asked. She pointed up stairs to the loo, and she walked pass.

A while later she came back down. “It’s quite busy,” she said, “maybe you should go.” “Go where?”, I asked. “Home”, was her simply reply. I went upstairs, saw the lights were off (they are noise activated), knocked on the door and saw there was nobody there (small loo). I was confused. I thought K had left, so I left too.

I walked out, feeling very frustrated, very hurt, very confused, and very drunk. I punched a tree. Hard. I wanted my hand to hurt so that my head and heart could divert their attention. It worked, my hand hurt. I walked fast. My phone rang. It was J. “We’re going home, where are you?”, he asked. “I’m walking home”, I said, before asking, “is K there?”. “Yeah,” he said and passed the phone. I had a brief conversation with her, I can’t remember what we said. I continued walking.

After some time, a taxi stopped next to me. It was K, alone in the car. She jumped out, walked up to me and said “Hey, what are you doing? Go home safely, ok? Remember, I love you. The taxi is waiting, I gotta go”, jumped in the taxi and disappeared. I felt stupid. I felt embarrassed. I made two fists and beat my hands together. It hurt almost as much as the tree did.

I decided to take a bus. I was at least another half hour’s walk from home, and now had not so much angry energy anymore. I waited at the bus stop - another taxi stopped. This one was packed. It was J, the other teacher, the Student Teacher and either the Computer Guy or the Short Round Guy. J got out and said “get in the car, lets go home together”. “No”, I replied stubbornly, “I’m ok, thanks. I’m waiting for the bus”. A short backwards and forwards ensued. J insisting I go with them, me insisting I wait for a bus.

I felt annoyed that I had been just a table decoration for the entire evening, and now they wanted to pretend they care and force me to do something I didn’t want to. I won out and they left, J saying that he’d wait for me at school. I caught a bus shortly after that.

And true as Bob, they waited for me at the gate. I saw them from a distance as I walked down the short road leading from the main road where the bus dropped me. I didn’t look at them, but I politely said “Thank you for waiting” as I walked pass. “Good night”, said somebody. I raised my hand in a brief wave and replied in a pleasant tone of voice “good night”.

I got naked, stashed my contacts, brush my teeth and plopped into bed. I knew things would be awkward the next day.

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Yesterday was a day filled with insecurities, unsurities and general not-so-good feelings.

K came into work in the morning, already overcast and shadowy. I tend to not meddle too much in the mornings, save, perhaps, a peek and a friendly smile. I get the feeling she’s not really a morning person.

But lunch time, she hastily gulped down her food and went outside. I had my usual two bowls and then went outside. Usually, as it was a nice’ish day, she would be strolling around the field with a friend, but today she was at the far end of the field, alone, talking on the phone.

I peeked at her as I walked the length of the dormitory to my stairs, and when I got to my room I stood looking at her from the balcony. From her body language it was clear that she was in distress, and at one point, from a distance of 200m no less, she appeared to be crying.

I took my Silly Hat and went for a casual stroll towards her, trying not to be too obvious in plain view of anybody who looked. As I approached her, I could see her dabbing her eyes with a tissue, and as she noticed me, she turned and slowly walked the other way. I got the message. I walked back to the end of the field opposite her, and sat down, expecting her to join me after her conversation.

But she didn’t, instead she stood around for some time and pretended to watch the kids play basketball. I went over to a young student sitting in the shade, and sat by him. She eventually walked past, pointed to the office and mouthed to me that she was ok. I messaged her to ask what the matter was, but she just replied that she was ok.

I tried a few times, unsuccessfully, to get a reason out of her or get her to talk, but she didn’t say anything. I asked her if she was talking to her friend (her previous boyfriend on who’s current status as her-what I’m not entire clear), but she denied it, saying only she spoke to one of her Uni friends, and cried because she felt like it and wanted to. I felt helpless, as she didn’t want to talk to me.

Towards dinner, something strange happened. J hovered about near me whilst I was on the computer, talking to a teacher sitting close behind me, when suddenly he turned around and said “would you like to have dinner together?”. I was surprised at him inviting me and involuntary raised my eye-brows and stared blankly for a view seconds. “If you have time”, he added, “together with K”.

Mentioning the last part things became clearer, or at least, it did to my suspicious mind. “Aha!”, I thought, “Your wife has clamped down on you eating dinner alone with female colleagues, so now you want to invite me as a guise for your transparent plan”. “Yes”, I said, “sure. Why not.”.

“Ok”, he replied, “K is in class, I’ll go down so long and order the food, you bring her when she’s done”. He left, leaving the feeling of suspicion lingering. I was unsure if my suspicion was founded and on what exactly it was based. K soon returned and I told her what had transpired. She seemed indifferent.

I felt slightly detached from her as she seemed like she didn’t want to share her feelings with me. I’m not sure how to feel about that. But I opted for feeling not good about it.

K indulged in Chinese only conversation with J, both of them seemingly didn’t mind me. They tossed me an English bone every so often in the form of a question which had no context to me.

“Don’t just sit there and say nothing”, K had told me at a previous dinner with The Talker. “What?”, I had barked, “you want me to interrupt you at intervals with bits of English unrelated to what you’re talking about?” “It’s better than just sitting there saying nothing,” she clawed back. “Yeah,” I sarcastically thought to myself, “how about I do that and let you be the judge afterwards of whether it really is better.”.

Luckily, as had been at the other dinners, beer was available. Weak, 3.6% beer, but they were big bottles. I indulged. I downed the first not-so-big cup without paying attention. I was reading the label to find how much alcohol it had. I looked up into J’s stretched eyes.

“Wow,” he mused, “you drink fast”. I looked down and noticed I drank the whole cup. “Not on purpose”, I said, pointing out what I was doing. “He’s a heavy drinker”, K chirped in. She has been accusing me of being a heavy drinker for a while, not entire understanding the term heavy drinker.

“I’m not a heavy drinker,” I defend myself. “A heavy drinker drinks regularly and drinks large amounts. I hardly drink once a week and then only small amounts”. “Well, maybe you’re not a heavy drinker,” said J, chipping in, “but you’re a good drinker.” “Not really,” I said in the tradition of Chinese modesty, “but that label is closer than ‘heavy drinker’.”.

So, I poured and downed another cup of beer to substantiate my denial of being a heavy drinker. Clearly an argument winner.

K’s phone rang. I could hear it was a male voice. She had some chit-chat and then said, in Chinese, she would phone back after class.

Past dinner, and slightly buzzed from the beer, I strolled back to school with them, where they still had a few evening classes. I didn’t pay much attention to K, because firstly, with J there I couldn’t, and secondly, with her not letting me close to her, I didn’t feel like it.

“I feel you don’t like me anymore,” came her message as I was walking up the stairs to my room. “Not true.”, I quickly replied, “You don’t tell me why you’re crying, I feel I’m the problem.” The bell rang and I knew she wouldn’t reply to my message for at least the duration of the class. I sat in my room thinking about it for a bit, and then sent another message: “This has not been a good day. I feel bad, and then a guy phones who you speak softly to and say you’ll phone back. I don’t understand, try not to be jealous, but I can’t help it.”.

She has a way, not entirely unfamiliar to me, to avoid things that I bring up that bug me. As if she doesn’t have to talk about it. But let it be her who is bugged, then I have no right not to talk about it.

Her only reply came some time later, “You have to know I love you”. Sweet words, but entirely unsatisfying in the circumstances. I went down to the running track and did a few 100m sprints as fast as I could. It made me feel better.

I went to the video store to rent some movies as I didn’t feel like sleeping. I happened upon an interesting Italian film. One of those porn-that-passes-as-art movies, of which that video store seems to have a lot. It wasn’t really porn-porn, but they sure did show a lot of one of the characters. It was in Italian with Russian subtitles, but I followed the story. A woman unsatisfied with her husband/boyfriend who gets entangled with an artists who’s fast and hot and everything that happens in between.

And a Wesley Snipes offering, The Detonator. Clear images, no sound and no English sub-titles. But I followed that story too. I’m getting very sharp honing my visual perception like that.

This morning I felt better. K has messaged me to enquire as to my well being. I lied and said I was ok, but I’m still concerned about her. She sneaked a smile when she saw me in the office after class. At one point we were alone.

“My dad went to dinner with the Money Man last night”, she started. I moved to the edge of my seat. “But,” she continued, “he didn’t say anything. So, the Money Man didn’t tell him about seeing us”. Phew, I thought, disaster averted.

My thoughts had barely formed when her phone rang. “Uhu, uhu, hao”, she said before hanging up and flushing. “The Money Man,” she said, eyes widening, “he wants to see me.”. She walked out the door to his office and stayed away for the whole period.

After the bell rang she came back, red in the face. I just peeked at her, but she didn’t look in my direction. She grabbed her stuff for the next class and started for the door. “It’s very annoying when you don’t talk to me”, I said having stood up to see her. She stopped and turned around, looking annoyed. “He talked about my work, it’s ok.”. “Was it good or not?”, I asked, annoyed myself. “Not so good,” she said, “but it’s ok”.

I left it. Hopefully we will have a chance to talk tonight. It’s Thursday, we both don’t have class, so usually we can steal away somewhere to chat for at least a while. Her mom is still not back, so I’m hoping she doesn’t dump me for this ‘date’.

Maybe, being the heavy drinker that I’m not, I will have some wine.

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This evening I sat staring blankly at my new Lesson Plan Book. It’s empty pages beckoning to be written on. But, like the pages, my mind too was blank.

Although, not completely blank, perhaps only so far as the lesson plans were concerned. For thoughts abound; in particular about one particular lady.

So, I flipped open my phone and fired off a message: “My mind is full of you. Any chance of a coffee after class?”.

I was under the impression that K had two classes tonight, I had just heard the bell ring for the second period and I was very surprised when she replied, almost instantly: “I’m waiting for you”.

I was confused and rushed to the balcony. I saw her slowly stroll towards the bus stop. I switched off the TV and lights and bounced down stairs. I caught up with her at the bus stop. “No”, she said, “I only have one class tonight. I moved the other to Wednesday”. I was happy. I asked why she had replied so quickly.

“Because”, she blushed, “I was about to send you a similar message”. Great minds think alike. We headed, as usual, to the KFC for a fix of caffeine.

After we enjoyed our first cup, we pondered the need for a second. “Yeah”, she said with a twang, “I think so”. I went to the counter. There was a man busy ordering the entire menu, it seemed. It took me longer than usual to get my two re-fills.

I was on the approach to sit down at our table when K jumped up and nearly ran to the door. At first I thought it was her friend, but as I sat down and turned around I saw him… The Money Man himself. The Headmaster of our school. Busted! I thought. K had greeted him, and suspiciously hastily I thought, told him that we had bumped into each at the KFC.

“Shit”, she said as she came back, red in the face. She hissed through her teeth “now my goose is really cooked.” The Money Man and her dad are, as far as I can gather, colleagues of sorts in that her dad is his boss, or something like that. “Will he tell your dad?”, concern evident in my voice. “Maybe”, she replied.

“No matter”, I said implementing a strangely familiar damage control plan, “when you get home tonight, just tell your dad that you’re sorry you’re a bit late, you met your foreign friend for coffee”.

A sound plan in principle, because the annoyance her dad may or may not experience at this news, will be dwarfed by the anger he might feel at hearing the news second hand and after the fact. She pondered the suggestion, unwilling to except it. “Maybe he won’t say anything”. “Sure”, I said playing Devil’s advocate, “if you’re happy to take the risk”.

The Money Man plied his kid and the kid’s friend, grade 1 students of ours, who’s class we have tomorrow, with junk food and left. We calmed down slightly and sipped our coffees. We shared a laugh around the small size of Shiyan and text messages we had recently sent each other. Digital mementos of our modern woo’ing.

The time had flashed passed and I suggested we head for home so as to not aggravate with being late, what trouble she might be in for being with me. The bus once again featured, as did our splitting point.

At the school gate I purposefully attracted the attention of the guard at the gate so that he could mentally note the time I got back. Inevitably the Money Man would enquire what time I got back so as to puzzle pieces together. Juicy goss, he is probably rubbing his hands together at this very moment.

Pumped on two coffees, sleep is, of course, far removed from my list of things to do. So, I came up to the office to complete a few tasks.

First one was to email my mom to ask about diabetic products she might know of in South Africa. K’s parents are diabetic, and I will need something to impress them with. I feel a meeting with them is on the near horizon, if not wanted, necessary. And I will need something to impress them with. Importing something for their needs from another country seems impressive, doesn’t it?

With that done, I surfed some info on a new phone. I saw on TV, this afternoon, an advert for the Nokia 6270. Looks like a nice phone. It has a camera and MP3 capability, two toys I am in need of at the moment. I read some user reviews and also found some links to pictures taken with the phone. Not great compared to dedicated digital cameras, but it seems good enough for what I might want to use it for. At 2 mega-pixels, it does in fact not look too shabby in good light conditions.

I might just visit a store tomorrow to see what this toy will set me back. I fear it might be more than what I’m willing to spend on a phone.

Now it’s getting quite late, so I need to head home. I don’t have any classes tomorrow morning, so I plan on sleeping perhaps and hour later. Yah. Also an opportunity to do some washing and clean the house again.

I was sitting on the couch this afternoon, thinking that now that I will spend another year here, I have to make my abode more livable; a bit more personal. I didn’t bother before, because I saw it as temporary, but now it’s slightly longer term and needs some work. With assessing what needs to be done, I saw quite a few places where dust have gathered unnoticed.

I have, repeatedly, tried to figure out where the dust comes from. I realise the air is full of dust and rubbish and the wind moves it about, but there is no constant movement of air through my apartment. Or perhaps there is and I’m just not sensitive to it. Sigh.

Another thing is that it’s starting to become mosquito season. King warned me and tonight I saw the first real mosquito in my room. One of those that might just come and pin me down before it sucks me dry. Big mother fluffers.

I’ll keep my doors and windows closed and a bat to defend myself with.

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Sunday morning was my second early rise of the weekend. It was for a sports day between the staff of the school and a few bus companies.

The school and the bus companies are all owned by the same person, thus the connection.

During the week King and I were invited to take part in a 100m race, a 4 x 100m relay race and a 20 x 75m relay race. We reluctantly excepted, as we know we are only there to be exhibited.

I was ready, clad in racy track-suit pants and sneakers, looking very athletic and falsely intimidating. My clothed body has an athletic appearance, whilst my naked body less so.

I knocked on King’s door. He appeared moments later, clearly fresh from bed. “Were you still sleeping?”, I asked, knowing the answer. “No,” he said, voice crackling like somebody who was sleeping, “I was awake, but still lying in bed”.

Down on the sports field, arranged along the track, there were about 6 groups of staff members, representing the various companies. Our school’s staff were all there, clad in black suits and white shirts. “Oh”, I snided, “nice of them to invite us.”

“You know how it goes”, King lamented. I do in deed. We’re only ever recognised as part of the staff at public events, but in any other respect we’re only the foreign teachers who are mostly excluded from everything else.

As King went through he motions of his morning routine, I got a bottle of water from my apartment and sipped it whilst staring at the people below. Eventually King appeared with a bowl of rice and fufu, a traditional Ghanaian dish which he improvises with local ingredients.

I call it baby elephant, because he invited me to eat it a few times, and a relatively small bowl of the stuff lies very heavy in your stomach and makes you feel as full as if you’ve eaten a small elephant. “Not really food for running”, I said. “Yeah, but you can’t run on an empty stomach”, he retorted.

I had a banana and was drinking some water. Probably not really food for running either. At that moment, J waved from below for us to come down and join them. “Oh sure”, I thought continuing my bitter line of thought, “now you wave at us.” We passed some more time and then went down at our own pace. We were dressed in sports gear and sneakers and looked quite out of place in between the black suits and white shirts.

The Talker, K’s friend, standing near the front of three lines of staff, immediately started doing what she’s good at; talking. She spoke about King to some of her colleagues and they looked around and stared. “Yeah”, I shouted to her from my position at the back, “it’s because nobody gave us or told us about the suits”. “Ehhhh?”, she asked as she didn’t hear / understand. “Nothing”, I waved with my hand.

Shortly after that, music started playing and the groups paraded around the field, each being introduced as they passed the ‘podium’.

Then the races started. First the women ran their 100m in heats. The race track only has 4 lanes and there were many participants. So, they ran in groups of 4 and were timed.

The men’s heat came around and everyone ran in fours until it was my turn. I was alone. J came back from the other side of the track, having just run his race. “I’ll run with you”, he said, huffing. Sure, I thought, so you can say you lost because you had just run a race before. Turns out though, he just started with me, because 10 meters into the race he quit, and I was tearing along the track all by myself.

I felt a right plonker, but my time was third fastest. The ‘relay’ race was not around the track as you might expect, but instead they placed metal bars upright at opposite ends of the 100m stretch. Then you run from upright to upright and pass the baton like that. Our team of four, J, myself, King and another teacher who’s name I don’t know, won that race. As did our team of 20, which consisted of 10 men and 10 women. The rumour is we won some prizes, but we’ll see about those.

After the races I was dead tired. “Let’s play some football”, King shouted, obviously not as tired as I was. Perhaps there is magic in the fufu afterall. “Sure”, I said, thinking it would be a good thing to warm down. We kicked the ball until I nearly fell over. I went for a well deserved afternoon nap.

I woke up at around 2pm and messaged K to ask if she was coming to the school to meet her students, or whether they would meet at the venue for the speech competition. “There”, she replied. I rushed over and met her there. We listened intently to the speeches, many of which were the same as the day before. It was difficult to judge whether our school would get a placing or not. The results will be made public later in the week on some website.

I didn’t sit close to K as the chairs were noisy, the speaker system wasn’t working, and our students had to move around as their turn came around. Besides, I wanted to show some independence, so as to quell the rumours the students might have been passing around. After the speeches everybody walked to the gate. “Where are you going”, K asked me. “Back to school”, I said with a tentative tone of voice, making myself available for any plans she may or may not have, “and you?”.

“I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch”, she hinted. “Oh, well”, I offered, “let’s go eat lunch”. “Ok”, she answered without hesitation. After some brief indecision about the venue, we once again ended up at that restaurant, Yon Ho (but pronounced Yong He in Mandarin). We whiled away the time, eating slowly.

Afterwards, with K having evening classes, we took the usual bus and split at her usual stop so we both could get some rest. I went home and cleaned my apartment, something I have been neglecting recently. I didn’t want to take a nap, but eventually succumbed.

The night passed uneventfully.

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On Friday I was informed that in addition to the primary school English competition, there was also a middle school competition held at a separate location. K was escorting the middle school students to this one, so when she asked if I would accompany her, the answer was obvious.

Early morning on Saturday, I tried to avoid the Money Man’s Right Hand, but as we started off I literally bumped into her at the gate. “I’m going to the competition with the students”, I said, stating what she wanted me to do. She had however meant for me to attend the primary school competition, but she had not specified this fact. I cleverly exploited the loophole.

“Fine”, she said, “where is King?”. “In his room”, I replied. She agreed that we should each support one, and I left with the secondary students.

The secondary school competition was more interesting than the primary school’s competition had been the week before. They had actual speech topics and didn’t just recite stories which everyone else had heard a thousand times. The level of English was also quite impressive, and the head judge asked interesting and challenging questions.

There were 63 participants, of which only 20 were to be chosen for the next round. We had 4 students enter from our school, and 3 of them qualified. We were all elated by this result.

Afterwards we headed back to school, but K and I, together with two students wanted to get off in Liuyan. Upon hearing our plans, the students gave each other a knowing look. I’m sure many students at school have been whispering about K and I. The look on these two’s faces smacked of confirming a rumour.

We all got off and I invited the students to join us for lunch. They decline and stopped walking with us so as to let us get ahead, so K and I walked about for a bit trying to decide where we should eat. We have exhausted most possibilities, known to us, for places to eat. We each only know so many places.

Eventually we went down a set of stairs that were all too familiar to me. The stairs down to The Restaurant, co-located with a Taiwanese-style fast food joint. As we went down the stairs, there stood The Waitress. “Hallo….”, she nearly sang. “Hi”, I said, waved briefly and walked past.

I had told K about this place before and that, last year, I had spent too much time there. “Oh”, she started as we sat down, “she knows you?”. “Yes”, I admitted, “they all know me”. And I reminded her of what I had told her before.

As we entered this restaurant, K had asked me if I wanted to see a movie. I had said yes, but then the plans fizzled a bit. As the waitress took the order for our food, they happened to have a ’special’. Food and movie tickets for cheap. We were both slightly surprised by this co-incidence and bought the tickets. We ate some interesting food.

As we were leaving there were 3 waitresses at the reception desk of The Restaurant. “Hello”, one of the new ones said as she waived. I waived back noticing that The Waitress and the other one standing there were not looking at me, but they were intently eye-balling K. K in turn didn’t look at them and just walked up the stairs. I followed her up, noticing that all three the waitresses were now staring at K, trying, it seemed, to get a glimpse of her face trough the back of her head.

We crossed the road and meandered through the People’s Square across from which the cinema was located. We were ushered into a cinema in which a movie was already playing. It was pitch dark and we found our seats with the help of a torch-wielding usher. It was a twin-seater couch with a high back and sides. Not a comfortable couch, but the high back and sides meant that we were out of sight of everybody else. I didn’t mind that it wasn’t comfortable and, I think, neither does anyone else who obviously comes to this cinema not so much for the movies.

The movie playing was a Hong Kong production, dubbed in Mandarin with Cantonese sub-titles. Or perhaps it was the other way around; what do I know? It was dark, the couch was small, it had a high back and sides. We didn’t see too much of the movie…

After the first movie, a second started playing. This one was Korean with Mandarin sub-titles. K had fallen asleep on my shoulder, and I saw a great deal of this one, although I didn’t understand any of the language. Fortunately, I have found Korean movies all really have the same plot. It’s just the location and characters that vary, so if you’ve seen one, you can figure out the rest. Language or no language.

After the Korean movie the first movie started playing again and we could see the parts that we missed. When we had caught up with where we started before, we left.

We went to KFC for a coffee as we both felt sleepy and had dozed off in the cinema. We needed something to perk us up. We sat chatting for a long time and eventually it was almost dinner time. “Would you like anything to eat?” I enquired. “No, I’m fine”, she said at first. We continued talking.

A few minutes later, surrounded by the smell of food, she crumbled. “Er…”, she said looking at my empty cup of coffee, “why don’t you get a refill…”, her eye twinkled with innocence, “and get something to eat?”. She threw her head back and laughed out loud.

I swiftly ordered two burgers, some skewers of chicken and a large french fries. Off all the Mandarin I know, I am most proficient at ordering at the KFC. Perhaps because I do it so often.

We ate, and eventually we nibbled the chips, until there were only a few left. She pretended to scoop them all up for herself and, with the chips hovering near her lips, looked at me to see my reaction. She knows I love chips and I was eating them with relish and thought I would show mock surprise. I smiled at her. “Just kidding”, she said putting some back. “No no”, I said, “you’re more than welcome to eat them. I love you more than chips.”

She looked at me, puzzled by the analogy. “Hmmm”, she commented, “not sure if I like being compared to chips.” “But,” I replied, “you know how much I love chips.” She thought about it for a moment and then saw my point. “How much do you love chips”, she asked.

“Chips”, I said feeling an onslaught of prose, “have been part of my life ever since I was a child and could cut and fry my own.”

“And ever since, chips have been my friend. When I feel sad, I can eat chips. When I feel happy, I can eat chips. When I left home, I could always find chips. In England, Brunei, Malaysia, Australia and even here in China; they have chips.”

“Everywhere you go chips are always there for you.”

“And”, I continued, “as nice as chips are and as much I love chips…”, I paused for effect and looked her straight in the eye, “I love you more than chips”. She batted her eye-lids and probably thought ‘corny, but sweet‘.

Afterwards, we headed to the bus stop to catch a bus back to school. She had to go coach some of the students for the second round of speeches on Sunday. Not sure how we go onto it, but we talked about The Waitress and T, the manager of the Japanese Restaurant and my involvement with them. I said it was unfair of her to doubt me on these things which have not been part of my life since February, when she is still weening her previous boyfriend. She saw my point but was slightly miffed about the whole incident.

On the bus, she sat down on an available seat near the front, but as it was crowded I moved to the back and stood near the rear exit. I peeked at her, but couldn’t really see her through the crowds. At a stop near to where she gets off for her home, she moved to the door, and without looking at me or saying anything, got off the bus. My first thought was to jump after her, but I knew that not 50m down the road the bus would stop again. So I stayed on the bus. As the bus drove off I tried to catch her eye, but she didn’t look.

A few seconds later the bus stopped again. I got off and immediately spotted her a short distance down the road. I made myself comfortable against a railing, and stood there pretending to be angry, my eyes locked on her, waiting for her to notice me.

As she came closer I saw she was busy with her phone. Probably typing me a nasty message, I thought. She looked up to see where she was going, and noticed me. She stopped, and I could see her trying to hide a smile.

Between us were three trees. She walked so as to put the tree closest to her in our line of sight, and hid behind the tree. She stood there for a moment, before she peeked out and jumped back. Then she tip-toed to the next one, hiding again. I had to smile. She peeked out again, saw me smiling, and hid again, before quickly tip-toeing to the tree closest to me.

She peeked out to the left, and then the right, and then walked closer with all the style and elegance of a runway model. By now I was laughing and when she stood next to me I said “Silly girl. Are you glad to see me?”. “Yes,” she admitted, “very.”

We got on the next bus and headed for school again. As it turned out she didn’t need to be at school anymore. We stayed on the bus and went to the train station. Having no idea what to do, we got on the K59 bus to see where it went. It went right to the back of Zhang Wan where we got off and walked back for a while, before catching the bus again.

This time we got off at that expensive coffee place where we ate some fruit and ice-cream and spent a few long hours talking about serious and less-serious stuff.

Our night ended shortly after that as we took the same bus and parted ways at her stop.

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