by Steve Howrie
* * *
Good news! Received an email from Anton this morning saying that the Writers group is going to publish an anthology of our writings, and he’s asking for submissions! So Julie and I spent the rest of the day putting pen to paper. I’ve never been published before (except for the time the Manchester Evening News printed a picture of me stuck in a drain whilst collecting samples for my microbiology course. It took three firemen to get me out). So, this is very exciting!
Monday 22
Couldn’t concentrate on my teaching today – kept thinking about having my name in print for the first time. Unreal! Consequently, made thirteen mathematical mistakes on the blackboard today (three more than usual). Told my students I was going to be published. “In a mathematical journal?” they asked. They were so full of admiration for me that I didn’t have the heart to say no. What harm can it do?
At the meeting tonight everyone was excited about the new anthology. Melissa contributed ‘Confessions of a Nymphomaniac’, Maddy gave us ‘Mad about Syd’, Anton brought ‘A treatise on Ming Dynasty Philosophical Thought’, and Toni showed us a painting. Maddy did wonder how a one by one–and–a–half metre painting would fit into a book, but Anton patiently explained how it would be photographed and reduced in size. Julie then offered her cheery poem ‘Ruth’ (see Monday 15 November). That left just me, and my contribution was Zero.
ZERO, by Simon Broom.
It’s nothing, but only because of no.
It’s orez, if you backward go.
It’s my life, the sum and total, when I’m sad.
It’s the start of a journey
From a rocket launch pad.
It’s a round number, a whole number.
It’s never positive, never negative;
But when the two combine,
They add up to zero every time.
“Marks out of ten?” I confidently asked the group. I wish I hadn’t. I felt very let down – the only one to have a piece rejected for the anthology.
Then Julie said, “What about that thing you wrote on Saturday?”
“I didn’t write anything on Saturday,” I said. “We had the party, remember?” But she meant my poem called ‘Saturday’ (see Sunday 10 October).
“I thought you said that was crap?”
“That was then,” she said.
So I got it out, and passed copies around. They thought it was great – so it’s going in the anthology – hurrah! Of course, six pieces is not enough for the book, so we’ve all got to get busy writing for next meeting. Can’t wait!
Tuesday 23
Must admit, I do like teaching maths. I think it’s the essence of discovery I really enjoy. I start a problem on the board in class, and I’ve no idea if I’m going to get the right answer or not. Sometimes I’m completely lost, and the class help me out. They’re so smart. I tell them that maths is not my strongest subject, and they always look so surprised. Great kids.
Julie’s no good at maths – she told me so herself. Just as well I don’t give her all my money. Big Ron’s different – he’s just a Biology teacher, and they can’t do maths for toffee, so you can understand him giving all his dosh to Venus. Talking of couples, Google brought me a couple of forms today for me to fill out.
“Do you have any impediments?” she asked.
“Does Julie count?” I asked her.
“I’ve seen her count on her fingers,” she said.
“No, I mean is Julie an impediment?” I asked.
“Only if you’re married to her and want to marry someone else.”
And then I got it. This was the certificate I was going to get from the Embassy two weeks ago so I could marry Julie.
“Ming buy,” I said in Chinese.
“You want to buy some Ming?” she asked. I explained that I was saying ‘I understood’ in Chinese, and Google said my pronunciation was ‘interesting’.
Wednesday 24
This morning Nigel from the Guidance Office asked me if I’d like to talk to the students tomorrow about Britain. He said they want to know what it’s like to live and study in the UK, and Nigel thought I’d be the best person to talk to them – mainly because I’m British and I’m very popular with the students. That’s nice.
Spent most of the day writing a few things down, and checking a few facts on the Internet. Sorted.
Wasn’t sure about giving the CNI (certificate of no impediment) form to Julie just yet. No need to rush it – I’ll surprise her one weekend.
Thursday 25
Gave my UK talk to the students today – think it went down very well indeed, once I got into my stride. Didn’t need a script – just spoke off the cuff – and it went something like this:
“Hi kids – good to see you here. Today I’m going to tell you ‘Everything you ever wanted to know about the UK, but were afraid to ask’.” (Thought that might get a laugh, but must have got lost in translation.) “First things first: booze and sex. Yes, there’s tons of that in the UK, and you’re gonna have a ball. Pubs and clubs everywhere you go – and you can get pissed every night if you want to. But steady on – don’t forget you’re actually over there to study. So be sensible: get plastered at the weekend if you want, but just a couple of pints weekdays. Same goes for sex. Guys, you won’t believe how much...”
At this point I received a hand–written note from Nigel, saying: ‘Please talk about Study and Culture.’ No worries. Just reliving my student days for a moment.
“Okay, now about your uni. There’s an awful lot of choice in the UK – and some are truly awful. Oxford and Cambridge for starters. What! Full of stuffy, rich kids who can solve Einstein’s Twin Paradox, but can’t even tie their shoelaces! Forget it – go for the universities like Bolton, Coventry, and Keele.”
Received another note from Nigel, saying: ‘I went to Oxford!’ Oops!
“Studying. Yes, I’m sorry, I know it’s a pain, but you do have to do this at University. But don’t go crazy about it – you don’t want to get burn out. Pace yourselves. Go to some lectures if you must, but make sure you find a good mate – preferably a swatty one who always goes to every lecture, however deadly boring they are. He’s your man (or woman). Actually, more likely to be a woman. Anyway, buy her coffees; take her out to dinner; a few little prezzies – anything to get her on your side. Then ask to borrow her notes – and copy them. Now, you’re Chinese, so copying is no big deal – right?”
Nigel was now looking rather anxious, and started waving his finger in a circle – no idea why.
“Books. A waste of time. Your lecturer has done all that reading for you, so what’s the point of doing it all over again? Just get his notes from your mate, copy them, learn them, and that’s that. Now, I’m not going to tell you to cheat, but anything you can do to get that degree is vital – and I mean anything…”
Just then Nigel cut in, clapping his hands. “Well thank you Simon for such an illuminating and insightful talk about studying in the UK. Of course, the UK is only one option – and perhaps some students would prefer to study in America…”
Friday 26
Couldn’t get off to sleep last night, had a lot on my mind. Tossing and turning for ages, which eventually woke Julie up. “Just let go,” she said.
“Okay,” I said, moving over to my side of the bed.
“No, not me – let go of your body.”
Apparently Julie thinks we all leave our bodies every night. This worried me somewhat. What if she couldn’t get back? What if someone else saw her body and thought, ‘Mmm… that looks nice – I think I’ll take that one.’ This would of course explain Julie’s erratic personality swings.
This did get me thinking about sleep and dreams though. Read an article recently which said we don’t really sleep to rest our bodies – it’s a rest for the mind, from our daily routines. Never did fully understand that escalator dream, but Julie said it just represented life’s ups and downs.
Big Ron had anothe
r run–in with Dr Wang in the teachers’ office at school today. Everyone heard the row – but no–one seemed to know what it was about. Took Ron for a drink after school to talk about it.
“Bollocks,” he said sipping his pint as we watched Chelsea score a goal against Arsenal.”
“So what was that all about, Ron?” I asked him.
“Terrible defending,” he said.
“No, not the football – your tiff with Jessica today.”
“Oh, that was all about sex.”
“What, between you and her?”
“No! Sex lessons. I want to give them to the students, and she says they’re not ready yet. Not ready! They’re eighteen for god’s sake!” He took another sip of his beer then said. “What age were you when you had your first sex lesson at school, Simon?”
I thought about this for a minute, then said “Twenty–three.” Ron couldn’t quite believe it. “It was my first teaching job, and only my second week in the school and I was packing up in the classroom after the last lesson of the day. All the kids had gone home, and one of the cleaners came in to tidy up. Fairly young, athletic type – not really pretty though. She said ‘Hello’, so I said ‘Hello’. She smiled, so I smiled back. Then she said, “Would you like to have sex with me?”
“Really? She said that? What did you say?” asked Ron.
“What could I say? It wasn’t like someone asking you out for a walk. Eventually I said, ‘Er… thanks – but I’ve got a girlfriend.”
“Did you?”
“No – I lied. So then she said, ‘That doesn’t stop Mr Jones.’”
“Who’s Mr Jones?”
“A Geography teacher – who was married to Mrs Jones, the History teacher.”
“In the same school?” I nodded, and Big Ron smiled. “And I guess Mrs Jones knew nothing.”
I told Ron that I couldn’t look at Mr or Mrs Jones in the same way after that. It did cross my mind that I could quite easily blackmail Mr Jones with this info, and get lots of dosh; but if it backfired I could be.
“You could be what?”
“Fired.”
“That was a bit of an education,” Ron admitted. “But it wasn’t really sex lessons.”
“Ah,” I said, “well, the next day I thought, ‘why not?’”
“You did it with her?”
“I did – and she taught me an awful lot.”
“You dog!”
Saturday 27
Was going to give Julie her CNI form this morning – but there’s no hurry.
Couldn’t help thinking about Julie’s idea of leaving her body – she really does seem like an alien being at times. Then I had an idea: I’ll stay up all night and see if I can detect the moment she leaves her body, and when she comes back. This could be cutting–edge research in this field – I could be published in Scientific American, New Scientist or Nature. But what puzzles me is this: if we’ve got a life outside of our bodies, why bother coming back to this crappy planet?
Anyway, despite trying to stay awake, I just couldn’t… and the next thing I knew it was morning and Julie was up.
At breakfast, she was very impressed with my open–minded attitude to her out–of–body stuff. “Oh, I do love you baby… you’re really not as stupid as you look.” I think that was a compliment. She reached over and gave me a big kiss. “By the way,” she continued, in between mouthfuls of cornflakes, “did you ever get those CNI forms from the Consulate?”
“CNI?” I said dumbly.
“So we can get officially married.”
“Oh, those CNI forms... yeah, well… they’re here somewhere…”
“Brilliant – we can fill them in today!”
Why am I so scared of getting married? Is it because I’m afraid of losing my freedom? Or am I afraid of Julie?
Sunday 28
Wash–day. I seem to remember that when I was a kid, it was mum, not dad, who did all the cooking, washing and cleaning. So how come I’m doing it all now?
Gave dad a call today to see how he was. “Couldn’t be better Simon – how’s things with you?” He really sounded perky.
“Great! You sound good, dad – what have you been up to?”
“Oh, working on a new project, a bit of golf, rejoined the local Speakers’ Club...”
“Wow, dad, that’s fantastic! What’s her name?”
“What’s whose name Simon?”
“Your new project?”
“Ah! Well, that would be telling!”
“Yeah…?”
“It’s Audrey.”
“Wicked dad!”
“I don’t think the Lord would see it like that... we’re both divorced…”
“No, it’s just an expression, dad. That’s brilliant! Will you bring her over to Shanghai at Christmas?”
“Not this time... it’ll be just me and Tara coming over to Shanghai.”
Suddenly remembered that mum is arriving on the same day. This will need careful, logistical management – or we’re stuffed.
Monday 29
My students asked me for the name of the mathematical journal – the one I’m going to be published in. Groan! I either had to come clean, or… ‘Mathematics Today’, I said.
“Which issue?” they asked.
“Er… December… but you won’t be able to get it in Shanghai.”
Of course, there had to be some bright spark who knew how to get a copy.
“It’s okay, my father is going to America next month – he’ll get one for me.”
Met up with Klaus in the coffee bar after lunch to have a chat. “I hear you’re being published in ‘Mathematics Today’ Simon – congratulations!”
“Oh not you as well! How did you hear that?”
“Your maths students are my physics students, remember?” I’d forgotten that. How did I get into this hole? “Well, what’s your article on?” he asked. I thought quickly,
“Complex Subliminal Vector Integrals for Differentiated Topographical One–One Functions in a Null Space.” (First thing to come into my head.)
“Interesting… I look forward to reading it.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t understand it,” I said, clutching at very thin straws.
“I sink my mathematics is pretty sound, Simon. Why wouldn’t I understand it?”
“It’s in Chinese.”
“No problem – I can get it translated.”
“It’s very old Chinese – very difficult to understand. Even Chinese people today can’t fully grasp it.”
“Then, why write in zat language?”
Checkmate.
“To tell the truth, Klaus, I haven’t written an article in any mathematical journal – I’m being published in a writers’ anthology. It’s just a poem – but the students thought I was being published in a journal, and I didn’t want to disappoint them.”
Klaus nodded. “Why don’t you just tell them the truth – I’m sure they’ll understand. They will probably be very impressed zat you’re being published as a creative writer.”
“Really?”
“Sure – I’d love to be... tell me more about this Writers group…”
So I did – and he said he’d like to come to the next meeting. So how about that?
Tuesday 30
Last day of November! We’ve been here over three months now – who knows what the next three months will bring?