Day 1-Tuesday: I was up at 5:30 with a detailed plan on the 45 min walk, followed by which buses I would take and which metro stop I had to get off at. Conveniently the bus didn't show up so by 7:20, exasperated, I got a taxi to the closest metro station and arrived late for the first day of work. It was a bit of an anti-climactic day, because after dreams of wrestling lions and chasing gorillas I was placed in Children's World, inhabited by rabbits, ferrets and a miniature horse named Hobbit. The work I did for the two weeks was all manual labour, such as sweeping or picking up poo, but I was perfectly happy doing that as I find it to be very fulfilling work. Shattered at the end of the first, this bloody woman who I volunteered with that day wouldn't let me leave and started taking me around in circles looking for someone who was actually at the front gate the whole time. Finally, "Eddy' popped his head around the door, grinning, and gave a very enthusiastic "HEY!". All that was in fact just for a hello.
Day 2: Spent the day at the giant tortoise exhibit with Hafiz, raking damp leaves off sand for 8 hours whilst a bonfire raged. The piles of leaves I constructed gave me great pride, but one tortoise, whom I named Lucifer, kept coming and eating part of them, then lying on them and sometimes defacating on them, thus ruining them. I had a few physical encounters with him, but he was unstoppable. I also found out that I had to pay if I wanted to work with apes, to my great disappointment.
Day 3: Savannah exhibit with my buddy Zaid. It was ridiculously hot, even in the shade, and I got a nice sunburn and heat rash. I was dealing with a pregnant giraffe who charged at me when I entered her pen. After my first escape, we ended up getting along quite well because I was cleaning up her poo and feeding her leaves. I also fed some bulls, walking along a wall whilst balancing large bundles of grass which I would throw down to them, hoping I didn't fall in. Finally we fed some camels, who were very feisty and kept rearing up. I found it very amusing because Zaid (the keeper) got very cross and was shouting "SIT DOWN. SIT DOWN." at one of the bewildered camels.
Day 4: Lions and tigers. I forgot that I was allergic to cats so was sneezing all day but it was still awesome. They were all enormous and super aggressive but amazing to be with. The tigers were actually stalking me, like a cat with a mouse. Yes, that would make me the mouse in this situation. I spent a lot of the time cleaning their night quarters (which were sadly in very bad condition). One lovely and gigantic female without a tail called Ella was trying her best to eat me as I cleaned up the cage next to her, and when she realised this was fruitless she rolled onto her back and showed me with her paws what she would do to me when she caught me. When they were fed it was awe-inspiring. The male tiger was a good head taller than me when he stood up and the alpha lion was even more impressive, roaring away with all his muscles bunched up. I felt his roar go right through me. He also managed to consume 8 kgs of chicken in just over 5 minutes. I noticed in my day with the lions that they are ferociously sexual beings as the male was uncontrollably aroused and constantly mating with one of the females. They are cleverer and more social than tigers but tigers are actually stronger and faster, and can jump 30 feet in one go.
All in all it was a shattering week, in which I lost 2 and a half kilos. We were going out for tea every night which was fun and although not the most comfortable, I was perfectly content sleeping on the floor. One inconvenience was the typical Malaysian replacement of loo paper with a hose. I refused to do this, not because I am closed-minded and didn't want to try something new, but because I genuinely do not believe this method to be effective. Needless to say, I restrained myself all week.
mardi 27 mars 2012
lundi 26 mars 2012
The Zoo-intro
Because my adventurous soul was getting a little restless, I decided to spice things up a little bit. Speaking of spice, I continuously tried in vain to improve my tolerance and after months of profuse sweat and burning mouth, I remain intolerant of Asian spice. One day, after lunch I ate a big green chilli ("chilli paddy") whilst having no other food to compensate for it, and it hit me so hard that I really struggled to pay the bill and left in a daze, eyes watering, nose running and ears popping, incapable of speech. I stumbled into a bush and was on the brink of vomiting when Ezra fortunately happened to be driving back to the office and picked me up.
The zoo I worked at was the national zoo and is called Zoo Negara. It is a third world zoo, and as the staff repeatedly told me, very understaffed. It was a 2 and a half hour journey from the Zaids' to the zoo so I went and stayed with 6 very nice chaps in an apartment which was only a 25 minute walk away. I was sleeping on the floor without a pillow but it was very good fun.
The zoo I worked at was the national zoo and is called Zoo Negara. It is a third world zoo, and as the staff repeatedly told me, very understaffed. It was a 2 and a half hour journey from the Zaids' to the zoo so I went and stayed with 6 very nice chaps in an apartment which was only a 25 minute walk away. I was sleeping on the floor without a pillow but it was very good fun.
The joys of Islam
Due to conservative restrictions there was little partying for me in Malaysia, so a lot of the time I would go out with people to mamaks, which are local outside food and drink stalls where people eat cheap local food and drink tea until the early hours of the morning. It is true that I missed bacon and beer, but there were things to fill that hole. For instance, one night, after dinner, I ate 12 chicken wings. Another night, 4 of us went with a very large individual named Azim, whose drivers license happened to have expired a year ago (I very quickly understood why it hadn't been renewed), to a Chinese fish mamak, which is known as "crazy fish" to them. It was absolutely delicious. It also kept with the Chinese tradition of having awful toilets, this time the urinal being a wall. There is a saying in Malaysia which is "jalan jalan chari makan" which basically means walk around looking for food. This became my signature statement, naturally, and a lot of time was spent at the mamaks, which would also play Manchester United games. This was great fun, as Malaysians are passionate followers of the Premier League, and spend all night whooping enthusiastically at the TV screens. What I loved about the mamaks is how nobody needed to be doing any hardcore partying, and everybody was cheery and there was a sort of "bien-vivre" about the whole thing. Amongst other various experiences, I also held an albino Burmese python around my neck at the Batu Caves, went to a hilariously rude stand-up evening, hit the town in a sports tshirt and visited the Petronas Towers. I arose at 6 AM for this and it took me 2 hours to get there, after which I found out that, contrarily to what I had been hold, it was not actually a free visit. I then had to wait another 2 hours in a ridiculous queue that involved being given 3 different tickets. I also went to a Muslim wedding with the family I was staying with. I was unbelievably out of place and it was extremely awkward, particularly when I extended my hand to certain people and was left hanging. This is where Ezra first coined his famous "Don't take it personally, it's a cultural thing" saying.
I also visited Putrajaya, the political metropolis which is a bit out of town and is where the big dogs reside. It's a massive, futuristic-looking place which holds the parliamentary offices. It has two huge mosques, one of which is completely metal, which hold 15000 and 20 000 people inside. In one of these, I met a female imam named Norma who was trying to convert and, as if this would persuade me to join, she told me that it's OK to steal in a time of famine. I therefore contested this, saying that if I had one single sandwich and she took it then I would be left sandwichless and die. We debated for a while but I don't think she understood the sandwich analogy.
Speaking of government, many laws in Malaysia are ridiculous. If your ethnicity is Malay, then you have no choice but to be a Muslim and this is imprinted on your ID card. You will therefore be arrested and/or whipped, and/or jailed if you are caught doing anything un-Muslim. If a Muslim is caught in a dark corner with someone, even if they were just being a bit passionate, they could very well be arrested, humiliated in front of their families and made to marry. Malays joke that it's a great country to be in unless you're a Malay.
Finally, as the house was far out of time I had a lot of spare time, so learnt a breakdance move called the helicopter.
I also visited Putrajaya, the political metropolis which is a bit out of town and is where the big dogs reside. It's a massive, futuristic-looking place which holds the parliamentary offices. It has two huge mosques, one of which is completely metal, which hold 15000 and 20 000 people inside. In one of these, I met a female imam named Norma who was trying to convert and, as if this would persuade me to join, she told me that it's OK to steal in a time of famine. I therefore contested this, saying that if I had one single sandwich and she took it then I would be left sandwichless and die. We debated for a while but I don't think she understood the sandwich analogy.
Speaking of government, many laws in Malaysia are ridiculous. If your ethnicity is Malay, then you have no choice but to be a Muslim and this is imprinted on your ID card. You will therefore be arrested and/or whipped, and/or jailed if you are caught doing anything un-Muslim. If a Muslim is caught in a dark corner with someone, even if they were just being a bit passionate, they could very well be arrested, humiliated in front of their families and made to marry. Malays joke that it's a great country to be in unless you're a Malay.
Finally, as the house was far out of time I had a lot of spare time, so learnt a breakdance move called the helicopter.
lundi 5 mars 2012
"Don't take it personalky, it's a cultural thing"
I worked for the son of the Zaids, Ezra. Ezra is a fascinating character, who knows everything that one could possibly know about Malaysia (and probably the world). He works for a radio station, BFM, and has his own publishing company, which is fairly revolutionary because it publishes things the government, still on a shaky path of censorship, does not like to hear. He was also the guru who, every time a Malaysian ignored me or did not want anything to do with me, would wisely say these classic words: "Don't take it personally, it's a cultural thing." I did various things in my time working for him. I searched a lot of news stories and read through a few potential publications. Some of the things people send can be really good, but you can also run into the most ridiculous drivel. One story was about a magician named Denzyll, and a djinn named Nigel, his enemy, along with a ghost who "smothered people with her barrage-like breasts". I also helped out at 2 book launches. In the first of these, I was prancing around a mall trying solliciting strangers to come and spectate. I received many frank "no"s. In the second, we were launching a book by a fairly well known ex-communist who had spent a good time imprisoned through censorship called Kassim Ahmad. I helped write Ezra's speech so the deal was that I could write a rap song and rap it to him. I actually did it in the end (what an idiot) and it was highly embarrassing. I do have a humiliating video but here are the lyrics:
Buy it, try it, shelf and scry it
It talks laws, in mighty roars, exposing reprehensible flaws as he opens the doors.
From Russian rev to a great return
He made it through on strength alone
He fights and fights and he'll burn and churn
Till the king once more sits on his throne
Kassim, one dream, boiling so hot that he'll go up in steam
Ahmad, said he's bad, had ups and downs but such a lad
He'll strive fervently
He'll shout urgently
Taking down the rich
With candour and certainty
He'll pave a path
For the aftermath
Giving them all a stitch
With his mighty staff
Kassim, man of steel who leads the way
But keeps his morals as he bows to pray
And though the future may look grey we ask him to stay cause at the end of the day he's gotta make em pay.
Kassim is now a fervent Islamist (yes, this happened before my rap song).
Buy it, try it, shelf and scry it
It talks laws, in mighty roars, exposing reprehensible flaws as he opens the doors.
From Russian rev to a great return
He made it through on strength alone
He fights and fights and he'll burn and churn
Till the king once more sits on his throne
Kassim, one dream, boiling so hot that he'll go up in steam
Ahmad, said he's bad, had ups and downs but such a lad
He'll strive fervently
He'll shout urgently
Taking down the rich
With candour and certainty
He'll pave a path
For the aftermath
Giving them all a stitch
With his mighty staff
Kassim, man of steel who leads the way
But keeps his morals as he bows to pray
And though the future may look grey we ask him to stay cause at the end of the day he's gotta make em pay.
Kassim is now a fervent Islamist (yes, this happened before my rap song).
The Malaysian Invasion (invAsian)
I accidentally booked a very snazzy, comfortable bus to Kuala Lumpur, with TVs and leather seats, for probably less than an economy flight there. Good start. However, the bus dropped me off in a hell on Earth, a vast maze of incomprehensible construction that would plague me again several times during my stay in Malaysia: The 1 Utama Mall. This mall is the 4th biggest in the world and is something like 7 malls in one. So, walking around in this crowded behemoth, sweaty and carrying 30 kgs on my back, I walked around in frustration trying to find shaving cream, a money changer and food/drink for over an hour. Fortunately I found the latter because otherwise I would have faced certain death. I was picked up by Mrs Shamsuddin, who very kindly let me stay in her house for 7 weeks, and instantly found everything in another, far, far smaller mall. It should be said now that KL is just one big mall. They are indeed the main attraction, and in KL and its surrounding Klang Valley, there are over 100 malls. They even have a "Top 20".
The house I stayed in, with the Zaid family, was AMAZING. There was a pool table, with which I spent a good amount of time honing my skils. I was able to try a lot of local cuisine, and it is incredible. There is no porc as it is a Muslim country, so I had a steamy love affair with chicken for 2 months. There is a lot of it in all its various forms and it is delicious. Fish is also very popular, although hard to eat with one hand (explained later). Spice is everywhere, most commonly found in a sort of sauce called sambal. Of course, rice is omnipresent, and in the most popular dishes such as nasi lemak (coconut rice with nuts, egg, chicken and sambal), nasi ayam(chicken rice), nasi goreng(fried rice) and all the various curries. Malays eat with their right hand, which is difficult but the rice and curry tastes much nicer in fact when this is done and you get the hang of it quite quickly. It was harder with meat, so I cheated and used my left hand. Tea is wildly popular, and wildly sugary. It has dollops of sugar, along with powdered milk. Diabetically dangerous, but addictive and delicious. It is called "teh tarik", although for the sake of my fitness I balanced it with "teh o kosong", which means no sugar no milk (it was actually still a little sugary). They use banana leaves as plates, which is quite fun, and a lot of meals revolve around "roti canai", a sort of pancakey bread. I was also introduced to many fruits and vegetables, which did taste rather odd to my unaccustomed mouth. One of them, durian, tasted like cake and smelled very pungent. It's actually banned in public places in Singapore because of the smell.
Of course, with all this curry came many uncomfortable moments in which I was sweating uncontrollably and could not even think because the mouth was so fiery. All part of the fun.
The house I stayed in, with the Zaid family, was AMAZING. There was a pool table, with which I spent a good amount of time honing my skils. I was able to try a lot of local cuisine, and it is incredible. There is no porc as it is a Muslim country, so I had a steamy love affair with chicken for 2 months. There is a lot of it in all its various forms and it is delicious. Fish is also very popular, although hard to eat with one hand (explained later). Spice is everywhere, most commonly found in a sort of sauce called sambal. Of course, rice is omnipresent, and in the most popular dishes such as nasi lemak (coconut rice with nuts, egg, chicken and sambal), nasi ayam(chicken rice), nasi goreng(fried rice) and all the various curries. Malays eat with their right hand, which is difficult but the rice and curry tastes much nicer in fact when this is done and you get the hang of it quite quickly. It was harder with meat, so I cheated and used my left hand. Tea is wildly popular, and wildly sugary. It has dollops of sugar, along with powdered milk. Diabetically dangerous, but addictive and delicious. It is called "teh tarik", although for the sake of my fitness I balanced it with "teh o kosong", which means no sugar no milk (it was actually still a little sugary). They use banana leaves as plates, which is quite fun, and a lot of meals revolve around "roti canai", a sort of pancakey bread. I was also introduced to many fruits and vegetables, which did taste rather odd to my unaccustomed mouth. One of them, durian, tasted like cake and smelled very pungent. It's actually banned in public places in Singapore because of the smell.
Of course, with all this curry came many uncomfortable moments in which I was sweating uncontrollably and could not even think because the mouth was so fiery. All part of the fun.
dimanche 15 janvier 2012
HK to Singapore
New Years Eve was particularly good in Hong Kong. We had dinner on the Peak and a large party was going on in the restaurant, and although we didn't really get a countdown (it somehow always goes wrong) we had a very merry beginning to the New Year, in which I shared my hugs with just about everyone inside. To get from the Peak into Central/Wanchai (where the bars are), we had to get a bus and even at 2 in the morning the queue was enormous and looked like it would take at least an hour. I then knew, with a sense of fate, that it was time for the true test of Mandarin. I went up to the two policemen manning the queue and began a very jolly chat with them that lasted about 10 minutes in which we got along very well. Just as the bus was about to leave, they told us to cut the line and get in. Massive success. I then proceeded to make Chinese buddies in the bus on the way down, which would have seemed a bit odd because while I was chatting away in questionable Chinese, my lense was being silly and one of my eyes was crying spontaneously (they very kindly gave me a tissue). We got back around 6 30 after having to bribe several taxi drivers to take us. This is because on events such as these they turn their meters off and become very annoying indeed, making you pay something like quintiple the normal price. After 4 hours sleep, Alexandra and I arose, ready (or not) to spend the day on a boat. I was woken up pretty quickly by this, as I tried one of those rubber "biscuits" where you're pulled along by a speedboat for the first time. I was terrible at it and couldn't keep my knees on, so every time I would just be holding on with my hands while the rest of my body was flat out behind and smacking against the waves. I'm glad no-one filmed it. It was a bit humiliating in fact because the other person doing it was an 11 year old girl who was doing a really good job.
The family left, leaving me alone in someone's flat for a final night, which I decided was a good reason to hit the town one last time before my flight the next morning. We went to Lan Kwai Fong and met some very cool Dutch individuals, wrapping up what was a very fun part of this trip. I missed my alarm clock the next morning, shouted "S**T" and ran out the door with all my stuff; I couldn't even call a taxi because it was rush hour but fortunately when running down the street I found one. It all went surprisingly smoothly after that thanks to the efficiency of Hong Kong. A fantastic feature of the airport is that you can check in your bags at the train station before taking the Airport Express! However, due to Herbert Smith getting my visa wrong, it had expired 6 days earlier and I was detained at the airport in a tiny room while they made me fill out paperwork and give them money.
Singapore was none other than awesome. It is a truly funky town. In my few days there I did the usual tourist things, such as the Botanic Gardens, the zoo and the Science Centre. A nice man at a restaurant introduced me to a local dish called "laksa" which was spicy and delicious. "Chicken rice" is another local dish that is delectable. One thing about Singapore is that it has the slowest subway in the world. I'm sure one could bike faster, and you tend to be forced into taking irritating detours to get to the right station.
The family left, leaving me alone in someone's flat for a final night, which I decided was a good reason to hit the town one last time before my flight the next morning. We went to Lan Kwai Fong and met some very cool Dutch individuals, wrapping up what was a very fun part of this trip. I missed my alarm clock the next morning, shouted "S**T" and ran out the door with all my stuff; I couldn't even call a taxi because it was rush hour but fortunately when running down the street I found one. It all went surprisingly smoothly after that thanks to the efficiency of Hong Kong. A fantastic feature of the airport is that you can check in your bags at the train station before taking the Airport Express! However, due to Herbert Smith getting my visa wrong, it had expired 6 days earlier and I was detained at the airport in a tiny room while they made me fill out paperwork and give them money.
Singapore was none other than awesome. It is a truly funky town. In my few days there I did the usual tourist things, such as the Botanic Gardens, the zoo and the Science Centre. A nice man at a restaurant introduced me to a local dish called "laksa" which was spicy and delicious. "Chicken rice" is another local dish that is delectable. One thing about Singapore is that it has the slowest subway in the world. I'm sure one could bike faster, and you tend to be forced into taking irritating detours to get to the right station.
HONG KONG
I have now got into a stage where I am much too far behind on my blog posts and am therefore forced to put more compact posts a while after already having left somewhere. The good thing about this is that I consequently post a lot less petty, silly stories and unnecessary details, which let's be honest, this blog is mostly comprised of. Upon arriving in Hong Kong, I was wearing about 6 layers because I couldn't fit all my clothes into my bag and this was the only way to take them with me. It was a sweltering day and I was waiting in the very slow immigration queue for over an hour in all this kit, gradually creating a sauna inside my clothes. The fact that there was no air conditioning in that room was also unfortunate. I worked in a law firm for 3 weeks, although I wasn't particularly useful to anyone and my more than ample spare time was spent on the BBC or trying to compose haikus in Korean. I managed to forget my reference at the office on the last day and came back a few days later, unshaven with jeans and a tshirt to collect it. Fortunately the lady at the front desk was amused and I didn't run into anyone I knew.
Hong Kong has a ridiculously good transport system and is very well organised, so getting around was easy enough. Every one also seems to know everyone. I also got a good taste of Hong Kong's night life with a few wild nights out. In one of these I lost my phone in the middle of Wanchai and walked halfway up the Peak hill because I had no money, and in another I had to climb from the roof of a 7 story building onto the roof of a 6 story building using a scaffolding (did I mention that I'm bad with heights?). Another tedious task that I was unwillingly involved in far too often was going on useless shopping trips, which created experiences for me that will forever live on as some of the worst things I have ever done. My eating hit a peak in Hong Kong and I gained 9 kgs in the space of a month... It was not all muscle.
I did a mountain race while there, called the Tai Po King of the Hills. It was a 36 kilometre run with 2500 metres of elevation gain and another 2500 of elevation loss. Daunting as this challenge was for me, I succeeded in doing an unreasonably small amount of training, comprising of a few sprint sessions up hills that never exceeded 15 minutes. The beginning of the race was a little slow because we went straight up an endless hill and there were several hundred runners (about 500 for the half run at least). It was gruelling as it was literally just straight up with a few steep downhills for the first 11.5k, finishing with a devastating little trail that went straight down, through bushes and whatnot so that I couldn't see, for 2.5 kilometres. All of the trails on this race were rock too, so my legs took a battering. After the first hour, my hip was already in serious pain but, being stubborn and irresponsible, I reminded myself that if I started it I was finishing it. The half (14k) took me 2 AND A HALF HOURS, and I was probably just in the top half at this stage. The trails remained rocky for the rest of the race and by the 3 hour mark I was already starting to hurt, a lot, because it got flat for a long stretch and my legs didn't appreciate this much. My race was almost ended by a wrong turn that I took, straight up a hill. It had the same yellow ribbons as the race, so I figured it must be right, until after 40 minutes I ended up on a beach in the middle of nowhere. Extremely frustrated, I headed back up the same path, and over an hour after originally taking it I came back to the spot where I had taken the wrong turn. It was a mental blow, and the rest of the race was very grim. I caught up with a good amount of people who had passed me during my little escapade, but although at the checkpoints I was keeping hydrated and had my own drinks anyway, I hit a pretty long stage where I was in serious need of vomiting. After what seemed like an eternity of going up and down hills again and just putting one foot in front of the other, I reached the 5k left mark and although I had to keep stopping to wiggle my legs (they were trying very hard to cramp up on me and the "wiggle" is a good defence mechanism against this), I finally reached the finish line in 6 hours and 33 minutes. It took me another hour and half to get home, and I had only had some chicken nuggets and two Starbucks quiches. I didn't get anything like enough post-race food and didn't sleep enough the next week due to a little excess partying, so had and still have some tiresome hip problems. I figured that the hour I lost accounted for at least 6 k, so I have decided that I am an illegitimate marathoner now.
Hong Kong has a ridiculously good transport system and is very well organised, so getting around was easy enough. Every one also seems to know everyone. I also got a good taste of Hong Kong's night life with a few wild nights out. In one of these I lost my phone in the middle of Wanchai and walked halfway up the Peak hill because I had no money, and in another I had to climb from the roof of a 7 story building onto the roof of a 6 story building using a scaffolding (did I mention that I'm bad with heights?). Another tedious task that I was unwillingly involved in far too often was going on useless shopping trips, which created experiences for me that will forever live on as some of the worst things I have ever done. My eating hit a peak in Hong Kong and I gained 9 kgs in the space of a month... It was not all muscle.
I did a mountain race while there, called the Tai Po King of the Hills. It was a 36 kilometre run with 2500 metres of elevation gain and another 2500 of elevation loss. Daunting as this challenge was for me, I succeeded in doing an unreasonably small amount of training, comprising of a few sprint sessions up hills that never exceeded 15 minutes. The beginning of the race was a little slow because we went straight up an endless hill and there were several hundred runners (about 500 for the half run at least). It was gruelling as it was literally just straight up with a few steep downhills for the first 11.5k, finishing with a devastating little trail that went straight down, through bushes and whatnot so that I couldn't see, for 2.5 kilometres. All of the trails on this race were rock too, so my legs took a battering. After the first hour, my hip was already in serious pain but, being stubborn and irresponsible, I reminded myself that if I started it I was finishing it. The half (14k) took me 2 AND A HALF HOURS, and I was probably just in the top half at this stage. The trails remained rocky for the rest of the race and by the 3 hour mark I was already starting to hurt, a lot, because it got flat for a long stretch and my legs didn't appreciate this much. My race was almost ended by a wrong turn that I took, straight up a hill. It had the same yellow ribbons as the race, so I figured it must be right, until after 40 minutes I ended up on a beach in the middle of nowhere. Extremely frustrated, I headed back up the same path, and over an hour after originally taking it I came back to the spot where I had taken the wrong turn. It was a mental blow, and the rest of the race was very grim. I caught up with a good amount of people who had passed me during my little escapade, but although at the checkpoints I was keeping hydrated and had my own drinks anyway, I hit a pretty long stage where I was in serious need of vomiting. After what seemed like an eternity of going up and down hills again and just putting one foot in front of the other, I reached the 5k left mark and although I had to keep stopping to wiggle my legs (they were trying very hard to cramp up on me and the "wiggle" is a good defence mechanism against this), I finally reached the finish line in 6 hours and 33 minutes. It took me another hour and half to get home, and I had only had some chicken nuggets and two Starbucks quiches. I didn't get anything like enough post-race food and didn't sleep enough the next week due to a little excess partying, so had and still have some tiresome hip problems. I figured that the hour I lost accounted for at least 6 k, so I have decided that I am an illegitimate marathoner now.
mercredi 11 janvier 2012
The End
I entered a group Mandarin course for the final week, which was a lot more fun. We got a lot more interactive work done and it's always easier because when you hit the nodding off stage, there's other people to answer the questions. One amusing aspect was that on two different days, both chaps, Dom and Kabir, arrived late and extremely tired. On both occasions, however, it wasn't because they'd been hitting the town or partying late. Dom's "Chinese mum" who he was staying with woke him up at 3 AM one night and insisted he take her to the hospital because she was supposedly in agony and dying... It turns out she had had a cramp in her shoulder and just needed to take a paracetamol. Kabir's unfortunate experience was even worse. He has a fear of animals, insects, other living creatures in general apart humans, and returned home to find 3 dead wasps in his bath. He could hear that there was a 4th one somewhere but could not find it, and consequently did not sleep at all for the entire night because he was so worried and determined to catch it. During this week, I upgraded my status from subway animal to subway warlord. I was particularly aggravated because it was freezing outside but I would overheat in my coat inside the subway, and this time there was no mercy. One morning I accidentally stepped on the toes of a woman about half my size wearing heels and although she shouted in pain, I was a hardened warrior and refused to apologise, or even acknowledge my crime. I just stared straight ahead into the window and could see her in the reflection, glaring up at me, waiting for me to notice. I can't say I'm proud of this, but all's fair in metros and war.
The time was finally upon us for our final hash run, which we were haring for (this means we were setting the trail, live, and had 15 minutes head start before the pack could chase us). Apart from not getting caught, a hare's duty is to set a great run and make sure everyone enjoys it, so after having publicised it for 2 weeks as "the best hash ever", we set off to Hangzhou in a crowded bus full of expectant hashers. Hangzhou has always traffic, so we told the driver that whatever he did, he was not to go through the West Lake. I don't need to tell you that he went through the West Lake, lost us an hour and got lost. He was getting out of the bus and asking for directions. By this time, there was a general feeling of irateness in the bus, which is never good. Terrified at the prospect of getting caught, I shot off and was not caught, although very sore the next day. It was a crazy hash, in which I was finally named after participating in at least a dozen runs. The name chosen for me was New Fresh Meat due to a young lady complaining about the amount of old men present, and I was made to strip off and be publicly doused in beer by said lady in order to make it official. I had about 2 hours of sleep that night and was leaving two days later, so figured I had better lay low (which was a little bit silly). My final meal was a final chao fan(fried rice off the street from my favourite local shop), a massive double burger with fries and a chicken burger with fries. I then went out again and got 3 hours of sleep before flying. The next morning my gap year very nearly came to an end when, loaded with my 23 kg bag on my back, I tripped and nearly fell face first down a flight of steps. I had a very satisfying conversation with the taxi driver on the way to the airport, it lasted for about 40 minutes, and although it was in very broken Chinese it was a conversation nonetheless.
My initial plan to sleep on the plane was, as usual, thwarted by some annoying little man in front of me who was trying to lean back on me. I spent the entirety of the 2 and a half hour journey holding his headrest in both hands and pushing so that he couldn't destroy my knees. This is a regular occurrence with me on planes, of course, where I entertain a sort of cold war with the rude idiot who is trying to crush me.
The time was finally upon us for our final hash run, which we were haring for (this means we were setting the trail, live, and had 15 minutes head start before the pack could chase us). Apart from not getting caught, a hare's duty is to set a great run and make sure everyone enjoys it, so after having publicised it for 2 weeks as "the best hash ever", we set off to Hangzhou in a crowded bus full of expectant hashers. Hangzhou has always traffic, so we told the driver that whatever he did, he was not to go through the West Lake. I don't need to tell you that he went through the West Lake, lost us an hour and got lost. He was getting out of the bus and asking for directions. By this time, there was a general feeling of irateness in the bus, which is never good. Terrified at the prospect of getting caught, I shot off and was not caught, although very sore the next day. It was a crazy hash, in which I was finally named after participating in at least a dozen runs. The name chosen for me was New Fresh Meat due to a young lady complaining about the amount of old men present, and I was made to strip off and be publicly doused in beer by said lady in order to make it official. I had about 2 hours of sleep that night and was leaving two days later, so figured I had better lay low (which was a little bit silly). My final meal was a final chao fan(fried rice off the street from my favourite local shop), a massive double burger with fries and a chicken burger with fries. I then went out again and got 3 hours of sleep before flying. The next morning my gap year very nearly came to an end when, loaded with my 23 kg bag on my back, I tripped and nearly fell face first down a flight of steps. I had a very satisfying conversation with the taxi driver on the way to the airport, it lasted for about 40 minutes, and although it was in very broken Chinese it was a conversation nonetheless.
My initial plan to sleep on the plane was, as usual, thwarted by some annoying little man in front of me who was trying to lean back on me. I spent the entirety of the 2 and a half hour journey holding his headrest in both hands and pushing so that he couldn't destroy my knees. This is a regular occurrence with me on planes, of course, where I entertain a sort of cold war with the rude idiot who is trying to crush me.
The Hangzhou Mountain Marathon
Having never run more than 3 hours before (and that was a hash run so it's not the most serious running), I opted to take the 28 kilometre option, knowing that it was going to be incredibly steep and would take ages. I was not wrong. After an hour, we had completed 6k. This involved a stretch where it was literally straight down the side of a very treacherous mountain for about 1,5k. I soon got into a good rhythm and was fairly well equipped with goos, sports bars and whatnot. At about the 2 hour mark, I was dropped by the group I was running with on the downhills, as it is a skill that I definitely have not acquired yet (you need to be a mountain goat to run fast down these things without breaking everything). I thus spent a period of 2 hours running alone, stopping along the way to buy and consume an entire packet of Bourbon-like biscuits that I found when we passed through a little village. After running up a hill named Heartbreak Hill (this thing went on forever, it took one guy 45 minutes to get up it), I entered a painful period of running around the hills on cobblestones, but was determined to catch those that had dropped me. After the occasional chat with walkers, I ascertained that I was finally close on their heels and, at last, dying, I caught up to them. We were at the 4 hour mark by this time. I asked them what distance we'd completely and to my utter devastation we'd only gone 23 kilometres. I had the impression that we'd be at something like 30 and was thus considering just toughing it out and going for the full Monty. After another hour/5k of slipping and sliding up and down hills, I reached the 28.5k mark and, knees on fire, agreed that it was definitely time to call it a day after 5 hours. The ending was pretty inglorious, there was no-one there and I had to try and find a taxi which took ages. Upon arrival at the Love Shack (our favourite hotel), they wouldn't let me in because I needed ID to confirm the room and I therefore had to spend a good 20 minutes trying to explain to them that I just wanted to leave my bags in the reception while I went to McDonald's (I was in serious hypoglycemia) but they were having a lot of trouble understanding my reasoning, even when I said I'VE JUST RUN FOR 5 HOURS I NEED FOOD. This feast was followed up with another feast a few hours later (and a healthy quantity of beer)...followed by a burrito feast right after that.
The next morning, I was hungry again. Unfortunately, while I can happily Chinese food for lunch and dinner, all Westerners are in agreement that the breakfast is un-stomachable. By 12 o clock, we still hadn't found an open place so we settled for the Shangri-La Hotel's buffet. Here hatched a scheme: I would take the buffet while everyone else bought a small course and over the course of an hour and a half I would bring back food for everyone whilst trying not to get caught. This plan worked, and aside from the food I shared with the rest, I managed to consume about 11 stocked-up plates of buffet food. I was shamelessly emptying the dishes on the buffet table and can safely say that on November 20th, 2011 they made a loss off me. Unfortunately the rest of the afternoon was spent climbing up hills again to create a hashing trail. This was hard for me as I had such a vast quantity of food inside me so I spent a lot of time huffing, puffing and sweating intensely. On the way back, I was hoping I could sleep in the train but I was struck by the Baby Curse: a little child, two rows down from me, actually spent the entire ride SCREAMING... But he wasn't actually upset about anything, there was no crying or sad expressions. He was just enjoying screaming and making me very angry indeed.
The next morning, I was hungry again. Unfortunately, while I can happily Chinese food for lunch and dinner, all Westerners are in agreement that the breakfast is un-stomachable. By 12 o clock, we still hadn't found an open place so we settled for the Shangri-La Hotel's buffet. Here hatched a scheme: I would take the buffet while everyone else bought a small course and over the course of an hour and a half I would bring back food for everyone whilst trying not to get caught. This plan worked, and aside from the food I shared with the rest, I managed to consume about 11 stocked-up plates of buffet food. I was shamelessly emptying the dishes on the buffet table and can safely say that on November 20th, 2011 they made a loss off me. Unfortunately the rest of the afternoon was spent climbing up hills again to create a hashing trail. This was hard for me as I had such a vast quantity of food inside me so I spent a lot of time huffing, puffing and sweating intensely. On the way back, I was hoping I could sleep in the train but I was struck by the Baby Curse: a little child, two rows down from me, actually spent the entire ride SCREAMING... But he wasn't actually upset about anything, there was no crying or sad expressions. He was just enjoying screaming and making me very angry indeed.
A tumultuous end to Beijing
The previous experience left me with a fairly sour taste in my mouth (foolishness be damned!) and so that night it was naturally time for some mega eating. We went to a restaurant that basically had nothing that was on their huge menu except 2 different noodle bowls. This experience did little to improve Dad's patience with the Chinese, as whenever we asked if a certain dish was available (we did this around 10 times, until we realised all hope was lost), the waitress would aggressively wave her fingers right in Dad's face and say"Mei you, mei you!" ("not have"). Because of their small selection of food, the Rorinator still required feeding afterwards so we gave Burger King a try, hoping for my first "Whopper". I ordered the quadruple one, was given a triple one and when I took it back to complain they changed it to a Quintiple Whopper. The lady then shouted "Hey be quiet" at us while we were having a laugh about something and, predictably, Dad the cross-cultural communications expert flipped and got extremely angry with her, particularly because the Chinese people inside Burger King were allowed to bellow.
By this time we were ready to leave Beijing, but we weren't getting away that easily. Once we were in the plane, as it appeared that we were going to leave on time, the lights flickered a few times, which is a standard occurrence on planes about to take off. Unfortunately, a few of the Chinese on the plane flipped and insisted they get off. More and more followed this trend for the next half hour and we lost 2 and a half hours because they had to not only try and calm every one down but also find the luggage of the deserters and take it out of the cargo. Allegiances were also beginning to form; there was one little group near us, plotting away suspiciously, headed by a portly woman whom we gave the code name "Chairman Mao" to. I was genuinely considering the possibility of the plane being taken over by a mini-revolution. Did I mention that the next morning we had a mountain race in Hangzhou and needed to wake up at 5 to get the train?
We finally made it back to the flat at 2 AM. This allowed us 3 hours of sleep followed by a quick guzzling of oats before the race, in other words, the greatest pre-race preparation of all time.
By this time we were ready to leave Beijing, but we weren't getting away that easily. Once we were in the plane, as it appeared that we were going to leave on time, the lights flickered a few times, which is a standard occurrence on planes about to take off. Unfortunately, a few of the Chinese on the plane flipped and insisted they get off. More and more followed this trend for the next half hour and we lost 2 and a half hours because they had to not only try and calm every one down but also find the luggage of the deserters and take it out of the cargo. Allegiances were also beginning to form; there was one little group near us, plotting away suspiciously, headed by a portly woman whom we gave the code name "Chairman Mao" to. I was genuinely considering the possibility of the plane being taken over by a mini-revolution. Did I mention that the next morning we had a mountain race in Hangzhou and needed to wake up at 5 to get the train?
We finally made it back to the flat at 2 AM. This allowed us 3 hours of sleep followed by a quick guzzling of oats before the race, in other words, the greatest pre-race preparation of all time.
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