The Blahg

Profile Blog Archives Twitter Chatbox

No responsibility will be accepted by the author for the wastage of your valuable time whilst reading this. Any claims that she has forced you to visit this site in order to inflate her ego will go ignored, and will only go to show your vulnerability to the author's exceptional persuasive skills as developed in Year 12 English. That is all.

Bonne vivante. Raconteur. Procrastinator.

Yesterday - yes, I am one day behind - was our much-anticipated jaunt to Hangzhou, a small tourist hotspot outside Shanghai.

As it was a casual clothes day (at the risk of appearing extremely superficial) I decided to fully embrace this rare opportunity to flaunt my recent purchases. Thus, I donned massive hoop earrings, a Burberry scarf, a gold bag and matching gold flats... on a caustically cold day. Eileen and I had a substantial - and free - breakfast of tapioca soup, buns and an egg in the school canteen, while the morning exercise track blasted rather bootlessly through the school's PA system into the teacher's canteen and deserted halls. Wolfing down the last remnants of our meal, Eileen and I dashed (which was, to my standard, exercise enough) to see the entire school in their rows upon rows of rigor-mortis-like snakes.

Furthermore, to the left of the crowd was a strikingly wonky row of brightly clad students. That's right, my fellow travellers had been forced, no doubt, by over-zealous PE teachers to participate in this rather embarrassing routine. Therefore, clutching my stomach in laughter, I pointed and laughed at the unfortunate exchange students ensnared by the teachers' passion for apin, whilst approximately three thousand eyes in turn flicked upwards to stare at the impertinent foreigner poking fun at their 'bootylicious' moves. Intelligent.
Unfortunately, due to my flamboyant fanfaronade, Eileen and I were quickly spotted by the roving eyes of vigilant teachers, and were asked to take part in the 'beneficial' - but highly hazardous to my octagenarian-like joints - exercise. Thus, as the Gao San (Year 12) students assumed their positions for their morning routine (apparently, the court ain't big enough for the lot of 'em) the exchange students (I was mercilessly placed in front) lined up behind Eileen to commence the exercise. Flailing our arms wildly like a million fat kids reaching for the one cake or a million people reaching for the ticket touchpad on the 5:45pm bus, we made a rather poor attempt to imitate Eileen. Hence, we resorted to doing the Macarena and the YMCA, which pretty much passed off as the real routine.

After systematically over-exerting and destroying my fragile joints with ostensibly tame bunny hopping, I then had to crawl up and down the stairs in search of fellow PLC students.
Once the flock was entirely herded (that didn't seem very logical), we squashed into a inibus with the teachers, as well as another one of the school's 22 English teachers for a two hour ride to Hangzhuo, the capital of the Zhejiang province.

We stopped on the way to relieve ourselves, buy some snacks (what kind of snacks, I am still not clear. It'd be nice if I could read Chinese...) and feasted on some pecular fruit. Its name went along the lines of 'li' something, and looked and tasted like a lemon suffering from severe elephtitis. however, there was a sweetness to it, so I was able to consume it without much complaint.

With the exception of the aforementioned pit stop, the ride consisted of some more witty (that is, self-deprecating) banter from me; gossiping and speculating about something that I shall not allude to ehre due to my previous post's NOTE; admiring my stunning gold flats as well as some happy snapping. If you haven't been following my Mr Wang Photo Count, I am referring to taking stealthy photos of Mr Wang in his twentieth wink. In case you still don't follow, we spent a considerable amount of time zooming onto a sleeping Mr Wang's face, pausing while we collapsed in laughter, and then assuming raunchy (JOKING) poses with him as someone took the photo. Yes, good times.

We eventually arrived in downtown Hangzhou, which was a close replica of Shanghai minus the psychotic traffic, ruthless motorists, incessant red-light-beating and the towering giants polluting the skyline. Bruce eventually manouvred the bus into a parking lot outside a large and affluent hotel-like building, and we entered an opulent reception hall filled with luxurious looking chairs, paintings, a dazzling chandelier and a undescribably beautiful and detailed carving of a village scene along the walls (yes, see the photos). After searching for a table big enough to fit the entire party, we were eventually slotted into a private function room and dined on a lavish feast of fatty pork, buns, fried rice, 'beggar's chicken' and sweet bamboo pieces (I think), among others. After feeling pangs of agony in our abdomen with the now familiar post-meal bloat, we climbed onto the bus rather laboriously to go to shopping for silk and 'ou fen' or lotus powder before sailing on the famous Xi Hu (West Lake).

Although we drove for what seemed like ages past several rather familiar landmarks (we passed the 'Shangri-La Hotel' sign three times...) to the lake that was already on our left side for the entire duration of the trip, we did arrive eventually. First, we decided to go shopping, and dashed through the rain to a small lotus powder and souvenir store. With some impressive bargaining from Edward (he got us the price of 15 yuan per packet from 22 yuan), we bought our lotus powder. Irrespective of what they said, I felt obliged to buy my family some gifts, and settled for no less than six - count 'em - six packs. I carried this massive weight to the silk store, and bought two authentic and gorgeous silk scarves for 10 yuan (which was originally 38 yuan - thank you Edward).

Next, we boarded a boat, which appeared to have a small house atop its platform. However, due to the fact that it was raining heavily, the putative beauty of Xi Hu was obscured by fog and water droplets, and we could only make out fuzzy outlines of nearby islands and fishing boats (they still fished...?!). Climbing onto two islands in total, we walked through each of them; admired its souvenirs (whose rather useless but nevertheless cute bric-a-brac was same throughout); watched Edward and Michael play 'Rattlesnake Rocks', which was the sound made when two magnetic rocks collided in mid-air; failed to copy Edward and Michael; observde the stunning scenery and viewed some architectural gems (such as the oriental gazebos and belvederes). Dwelling in a souvenir shop on the second island, however, I was left behind (as usual in Australia) by the group. Hearing Mr Wang shriek "Melissa!" in both exasperation and apprehension, I eventually joined him under the umbrella to catch up with the group after some liberal video-cameraing with Mrs Buckman and him.

Due to the bitter cold as well as not being able to bear my complaining any longer (my poor shoes' lace ornaments were absolutely mangled by filthy water), we decided to head home after my statue-whoring (I have taken several photos with male statues apparently in mid-kiss), before the deadline and before our hosts declared us as 'presumed dead'. Thus, hopping onto the bus, we informed our hosts that we would reach there by about 5pm to 5:30pm latest, and commenced the long ride home (with the heaters graciously turned up full blast in order to combat frostbite and the strong possibility of amputation). The bus ride continued on in the same fashion as the bus ride to Hangzhou (with the exception of a blissful one hour nap), as I established a reputation as an absolutely insane psychotic bitch, or, as Lora put it, 'Mello the psycho bitcho'. Yes, I went slightly too far with the banter, and crossed into unspeakable territory, earning the title of a statue-whoring, strip-whoring, drug-whoring, drug pushing (Kathryn and Carrie were already undergoing a suspicious 'high', prancing through the rain and singing like a broken violin after sitting behind me on the bus) and hearing impaired rapist (don't ask...). Really, that's what they teach me at PLC (JUST JOKING, PLEASE DON'T EXPEL ME...).

However, due to some unforseen and mystifying reason (possibly traffic or the fact that rain on the road causes extreme slowness), the deadline creeped forward to become later and later, and we were rapidly running out of credit from calling our hosts innumerable times to reschedule. 5:30pm changed to 6pm, which then moved to 6:30pm, which then shifted to 7pm, which became 7:15pm and then 7:30pm, before becoming slightly later than that. Very organised and accurate, I must say, Mr Wang.

When we finally reached the school to meet with our hosts who had been at school for more than 12 hours at that point, Eileen took me to 'Xiao Fei Yang' or literally, 'Little Fat Sheep' for steam boat. Although it was difficult to carry my unbelievably heavy luggage without arms (yes, they had fallen off already), we eventually arrived alive (and not squashed by fellow bussers) at the restaurant to find Eileen's parents (who had waited up to four hours) sitting there. We had an absolutely scrumptious banquet of lamb and steam boat soup (although it tastes uncannily like water in Australia, it was incredibly rich and brimming with flavour over here). Feeling queasy with the usual PMS (Post Meal Satiation, not Post Methods Syndrome, Pre Menstrual Syndrome or Pre Marital Sex), we decided to take a taxi home due to my heavy bags and inability to walk in the cold (that is, the inability for my shoes to make contact with any more puddles).

Here's to some more PMSing of a different kind!

-MelMS

Mr Wang Photo Count: 16

Random Scream Count: 2 (Andy and Eileen in the ping pong room on Monday. Apparently, Pauline challenged me to scream randomly at any and every person in sight. Furthermore, if they don't clutch their heart in agony and shock, it doesn't count, so I decided to satisfy her with at least two. I will try to do better tomorrow...)

PS. Excuse any blatant typos and grammatical errors, as speaking and listening to Chinese as well as being in a country devoid of any proper-sounding and properly translated (without countless typos and tense problems) English has caused my own English to deteriorate at an alarming and exponential rate. 我真的不会说英文了。

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Outings

0 comment(s)

NOTE: Due to the fact that I rather foolishly gave Eileen my blog's address, her entire class spent their computer class today reading my Shanghainese adventures with much fervour. In doing so, however, they came across my mathematical misadventures and unhealthy paranoia with regards to tinea; hence, they simultaneously obliterated any self-respect remaining in my body. Thus, in a ditch to preserve any last iota of dignity, I have decided to keep my complaints, rants, perve-ntures, and potentially embarrassing anecdotes to myself: I'm sure you've had your dose for now.

Infinitely more organized today, Eileen and I set out to school at the same time to go to school. Again braving the life-threatening squeeze on the bus, we reached a pleasant dumpling shop for an unusually (in Australia, anyway) substantial breakfast and made it to school without much incident. However, upon reaching the class (I went by lift) after admiring the students on-duty (they were to catch any latecomers or students with untidy uniforms), I found the entire class dressed in their PE uniform. Hearing a bell, I joined up with Swee and Yin Ling to go to a small balcony above the mammoth sports oval (the rough equivalent to PLC's luscious sports grounds). There, we watched a thousand(or perhaps two)-strong crowd – the entire school – commence with their daily morning exercise. With a saccharine-sweet female voice blasting through the speakers and counting, the students lined up and adjusted themselves in order to form incredibly straight lines both horizontally and vertically. Then, they began a well-memorized routine, although my host and her friend had taken the opportunity to wag. After watching literally countless robotic manouvres and star-jumps, they all turned around and sang the anthem (my host and her friend included) as five students raised the flag. Feeling overwhelmingly vulnerable in the case of a bomb threat, we quickly headed back to class when they were done.

Today, all of us had resolved to be authentic exchange students and attend class with our hosts. Thus, as Swee attended Physics, Lora and I attended Maths (*cough*). It was much better than I expected; because of the notation as well as the universality of maths, I could make out most of it as well as the teacher’s jabbering: something about increasing, decreasing, odd and even functions as well as frequent allusions to ‘dan diao zeng han shu’, which literally translates to 'boredom increasing functions'. Amen, sister.

After that, we had a Gao Er or Year 11 (I think) biology class by Ms Bao. It was taught in English (thank God), although her relatively laboured tirade hinted that it was usually in Chinese. It consisted of much information on photosynthesis and the like; however, having learnt it in Year 7 as well as feeling simply exhausted and slightly bored, we did not manage to catch the majority of the lesson.

After that, we had English, English being the best subject there for me for obvious reasons. Already familiar with the amiable teacher Jenny as well as the 'unchallengeable giant' Lin Hwaimin (don't ask...), we listened to her loquacious introduction, in which she spoke about her personal life rather candidly but remained entertaining and witty, and shouted us a round of milk tea following her first-prize victory in a speech contest. However, after she finished chatting rather genially, she turned to me, her 'little Australian friend' and asked me to read the last section of an article in their English books: Embracing Society: the Life of Lin Hwaimin. Trembling with apprehension as fifty pairs of eyes scanned me and expected a shining example of perfect English, I began. Despite stumbling slightly in the first paragraph and adopting an unusually fobby accent, I eventually waded through the article and finished reasonably articulately, much to the admiration (or it could have been sheer horror – I'm not exactly sure) of my peers. Following some more discussion, Jenny asked students to stand up (yes, in China they don't remain in their seats when answering a question) and describe their idea of the best place for settlement. After several mentions of Australia (I'm still figuring out whether it was due to my presence or they genuinely wished to see kangaroos and koalas literally jumping across the street, as they so eagerly expressed...), it was Hart or Chen Bing's (the guy who gave up his seat for me, or better known as Lora's perve-target) turn. Bursting out of his seat, he spoke animatedly about the aforementioned fauna bouncing across his front door, as well as the apparent peacefulness of Australian life. Hearing this, Jenny looked directly at me:

"That's simply excellent, Chen Bing! Well, perhaps it is best that you improve your English and then marry an Australian girl so that your dreams will come true. That's right, Chen Bing, an Australian girl. Hmm, I wonder if there are any single Australian girls that are in Shanghai. Tell me when you see an Australian girl, and I will help you woo her..."

Yes, she may well have said it another fifteen hundred billion times, but I did not notice, due to the fact that my head was pressed painfully on my desk to avoid blinding fellow students with my tomato-red cheeks. That welcome was too warm for my liking, thank you very very much...

After a forty minute lesson of English and describing to Swee in detail the catastrophic class, I sat down as the Chemistry teacher burst authoritatively into the room. However, this class was not as enjoyable as the previous one, as the teacher began speaking what seemed to me fluent gibberish. All of elements were removed beyond recognition due to the fact that they had been translated into their Chinese form, with the exception of their symbols. It could have quite possibly been something about dissociation or running electricity through an aqueous solution, but I really could not make it out. Moreover, during the class, seeing my rather barren desktop, the Chemistry teacher froze mid-speech and stomped towards me, asking in rapid Chinese:

"Where are your books?! WHERE ARE YOUR BOOKS?!"

In panic, I wheeled around and looked at the boy behind me, hoping desperately that she was referring to him. No such luck. The class erupted into gales of laughter, as I smiled in absolute bewilderment and intimidation, while Eileen quietly explained the situation to the teacher. Hell, give me a Chinese boyfriend any day.

After having another ambrosial lunch (compared to our canteen food, anyway) in the Ge Zhi canteen of ham omelette, fatty pork (mmm, fat...), vegetables, rice and soup, we set off for the Shanghai Museum. Walking through dirty streets paved with ominous patches of phlegm-like substances, we walked into the lavish museum to see the several sculptures and pottery exhibits on display. The works were absolutely stunning, given the time period (almost all were before 1000BC); however, we were unfortunately forbidden to take cameras in. Personal favourites included the several detailed carvings and paintings on wood, pottery and bronze; the frequently seen chicken head motif (I don't know either...); a chamber pot; a bronze spittoon and most of all, the angry camel (there happens to be a replica in Eileen’s lounge room). However, due to our insatiable lust for cheap imitation goods as well as the shooting pain in our joints, we headed off within an hour to Hong Kong Shopping Centre.

Given until 3:15pm to shop, Lora, Swee and I headed to various shoe shops in search of flats. However, as we reached the end of the chains of proper, trustworthy shops, we found ourselves in the cheap imitation goods district, otherwise known as heaven. Browsing a jewellery store, we were simultaneously grabbed, pinched and shouted at from all directions from desperate self-disrespecting sellers. All seeming to boast the exact same variety of goods, I ended up looking at a nice pair of star-shaped studs. However, hearing its high price, I attempted to bargain rather indifferently, and then began to walk away when I didn't get what I wanted. Suddenly, the girl grabbed my arm with the grip of a voracious vulture, saying (in Chinese):

"Okay, okay, I'll give you (insert price two yuan higher than my asking price)!"

"No way, I don't want it anyway."

I began to writhe in her grip in a futile but agonizing attempt to get away.

"NO NO NO!!! I'll give it to you! I'll give it to you!"

Ladies and gentlemen, that is how you do it in China.

After doing this in several stores, I found myself with several goods before my rather indolent sense of frugality kicked in. However, during this shopping experience, I managed to help Swee and Lora immensely with their bargaining (yes, I'm boasting yet again, Swee and Lora, but people have the right to know). For example, while they were willing to settle for 25 yuan for a 58 yuan keychain and with the frugality already pumping through my veins, I dragged them away, citing "15 yuan or nothing!" in Chinese. After some fervent bickering (but not too much, due to their desperation), I quickly got what I wanted, and consequently got an immense confidence boost. Ah, I love being a tightass.

This continued for quite a while, as I saved my dear friends and myself from being ripped off by over-complimentary (not that it's a bad thing...) stall owners. After ten minutes, I had already bought a gold bag for 50 yuan (much to my dismay, it was 50 yuan first offer at another store) and another pair of hoops. After losing Swee, getting extremely distraught and then finding her again, I remembered a passing desire for a long necklace from a long time ago. Thus, I returned to the first store to have a look. Despite warnings from Swee and Lora about a terrifyingly roguish middle-aged vulture that ceaselessly referred to herself in third person (Ah Yi, or Aunty), I headed to her stall to have a look. Feigning horror at the price of 98 yuan, I began to argue for 30 yuan. However, after Ah Yi modeled the necklace and attempted to persuade me to buy it for 50 yuan, I raised my price to 32 yuan, much to the shocked exclamations of both Ah Yi and an adjacent shop owner:

"How brilliant is that foreigner? Raising it by two yuan..."

Not falling for the compliments (that much...), I eventually raised it to 33 yuan and got what I wanted after performing the "Meh, I don't really want it anyway," trick. Take that, Ah Yi.

After walking to the end of the shopping centre and back, as well as blowing two chances at a cute, stripy and thin casual scarf due to my over-stinginess (hence causing my confidence to be shot), I found Mrs Buckman at the Ah Yi store looking at some watches. Looking at the 18 yuan price, I asked the three stall owners whether they could make it 5 yuan. With much irritation and hostility, however, they rebuked me, telling that it was a fixed sale price. Trying the "Meh" trick and failing, I heard the sounds of swearing and jeering in rapid Shanghainese behind me, which possibly went along the lines of "damn foreigners...". Almost turning around and performing taekwondo on those [insert expletive], I eventually returned to the meeting place to wait several hundreds of hours for Carrie and Kathryn to return.

We had a long pep talk (or 'pow-wow') from Mrs Buckman about punctuality and basic safety advice in Shanghai as a result, and then headed back to school. However, due to the fact that our hosts had their electives until 5:30pm, Swee and I armed ourselves with a detailed map and headed to the shoe shops that I had seen yesterday (I felt immense travail when I saw my gorgeous gold flats were 15 yuan only one day later) to commence a shoe spurge. I bought an exquisite pair of black pointy flats (almost exactly in the style that I had always yearned for) for 39 yuan, while Swee, after much goading and cajoling from yours truly, bought a pair of brown boots that were apparently of 'high quality'. Of course, as 'high quality' is really a synonym for 'cheap imitation'...

After screaming shrilly and flailing our limbs while crossing the road (hmm... spot the foreigners...), endless witty (by that I mean toilet humour) banter as well as laughing and speculating about a suspiciously large human-sized mound of excrement in the middle of the footpath (I wonder how it got there, with the massive amount of people passing every second), we eventually returned to school (surprisingly promptly, might I add) and headed home for a dinner. This consisted of pork chops, bread, ABC soup (vegetable soup named by Mum for the massive amounts of vitamins A, B and C in it) and rice (shockingly, for the first time in China).

I believe it is okay to assume that Swee arrived at home rather safely, without being attacked and mauled by a particularly bitter vulture by the name of Ah Yi.

-Mel

Mr Wang Photo Count: 11

PS. If any hot Chinese boys in Gao Yi (11) Ban happen to be reading this, I was serious about the Chinese boyfriend thing...

PPS. As we were very generously and kindly given a Ge Zhi postcard pack and official badge (designed by the Mao Zedong himself!) by the staff, we decided to pin the badge onto our fancy blazers while on outings. However, this was the biggest mistake you could make, especially if you were a naturally self-conscious person like yours truly. With the 'gorgeous' and affluent-looking uniform as well as the smart badge of one of the most famous schools in Shanghai, EVERY SINGLE person on the street that happened to lay eyes on us promptly performed a double take, wheeled around, stopped in their tracks and stared shamelessly at our breasts (which turned out to be the location of the Mao Zedong badge, thank God). For example, a woman did just this while we were outside the museum, and stood still for so long and so close (perhaps she had poor eyesight) it appeared that she was attempting to blend into our exchange group. After what seemed like twenty minutes of relentless staring from her (as well as every single person on the street, and I am NOT joking), she turned around to leave, much to our relief. However, one minute later, the same lady returned, dragging another friend of hers, and promptly dashed to my backside and stared and pointed at my ass (presumedly my skirt). Yes, the people of China know not the meaning of subtlety.

Labels: Blog, Chinese Exchange, Maths, Outings, School

0 comment(s)

After crashing the computer last night (well two nights ago due to the lateness of this post) at 10:45pm (and thus failing to play another round of poker), I gave up and went to bed on the sofa, which was infinitely more comfortable as the wooden boards that are the beds here. Although I planned to sleep in as much as possible, I was awoken by the now familiar Shanghainese babble (or exceptionally fast and incoherent Mandarin... if so, I feign deafness or assume that it is truly Shanghainese) at 6am. Accustomed to the morning rush to get ready for school, I fumbled around as usual for several missing items (although they are never missing when not needed). After proving myself to be an extremely disorganised, messy and simply infuriating person in the mornings, we eventually got ready to go, walking out of the door clutching our breakfasts. We waited for the bus, and it eventually arrived with nearly ten hundred billion trillion passengers uncomfortably squashed into the windows. Thus, when I was forced to ask Eileen to pay my fare with the swanky transport card due to the fact that I had barely even managed to climb onto the bus, I squeezed myself onto the bus' steps and was almost knocked out by the hydraulic door. Excellent start to the day.

However, as I was situated at the front of the bus, I was able to watch the astonishing sights in Shanghai fly past, particularly those on the mammoth Nanpu suspension bridge. During the ride, I irritated Eileen with relentless "Are we there yets?", and eventually reached the bus stop without falling out of the bus as a result of the countless other people (seriously, it's impossible to count due to the fact that your face is pressing against someone else's ass). However, on account of being a spoilt and posh PLC snob, I persisted with the "Are we there yets?" as we walked through the darkness for what seemed like hours to reach Ge Zhi High School before 7:30am.

We passed several roadside stalls (which are to China as ants are to jam donuts) and, at about 7am, finally joined the floods of Ge Zhi students seeping into the school gates. Seeing Mr Wang and Mrs Buckman, I again experienced a Paulinesque fit of elation: yes, they were English speakers! Hallelujah! I then proceeded to knock Mrs Buckman out with an animated hug and chatted to her in rapid English. Is there no better cure for home sickness than speaking to an Aussie? I think not.

After that, we ascended the stairs (yes, due to my alarming weakness, I was completely exhausted by the third floor) to Eileen's classroom on the seventh floor. Yes, the stairs were an absolute 'biatch', and only managed to destroy my emaciated chicken legs with absurd amounts of lactic acid. Despite meeting a familiar face - Andy - as well as being introduced to a multitude of curious students (and being asked whether there were many kangaroos jumping along the suburban streets of Melbourne), I craved the presence of more English-speaking Australians and began an extensive search across three floors - not more stairs, oh God, please - for my fellow travellers. I eventually found Mao Ling, Carrie, Shermayne, Kathryn and Yin Ling, but failed to spot my tattooettes (yes, we were planning to get tattoos where the grass don't grow instead of hoodies as a memento of the trip) Lora and Swee, the latter of whom actually happened to be right next to my class...

After the bell (which sounded strangely like a phone ringing), I grudgingly bid goodbye to my fellow Australians and sat down in English class with Eileen. It was rather interesting to see Chinese people idolising bad American-accented English and comprehend and read remarkably advanced 'English as a Second Language' or 'ESL' articles so articulately. However, after watching to the English teacher's PPT (Powerpoint presentation) backfire and receiving hospitable praise for teaching the students how to pronounce 'choreography' correctly, I was asked by Edward - an English teacher at Ge Zhi and our guide - to go to the eighth floor (out of ten) for a meeting.

I used the lift (praise the heavens... although it took more time waiting for the lift than it would take to climb one flight of stairs to the eighth floor) and milled around awkwardly, unable to remember Edward's directions to the meeting rooms (yes, I had assumed that he was babbling in Shanghainese). Eventually, Edward, Lora and Swee emerged from the lift to my thrilled squeals and we went into the meeting room, which was already filled with other more attentive students as well as the teachers. We then received an extremely warm and amiable welcome from the Ge Zhi principal himself (as well as massive amounts of praise for PLC), although this too sounded uncannily like Shanghainese babble. Luckily for Mrs Buckman, however, she was given a personal translator, so I was forced to watch, smile and nod in dismay as everyone understood the principal but me. Yes, me speak and hear Chinese very very good... Argh.

After the meeting, we were taken to our exchange student meeting room and had a comprehensive and access-all-areas guided tour of Ge Zhi High School (see above photos). Without going into much detail (yes, a picture is worth a million of my words), the facilities were simply mind-blowing: it was like a whole fitness centre, entertainment centre, school and office building all rolled into one, and more. Not only did they have a larger diversity of school facilities (such as a rooftop garden, a chess and checkers room, a tea ceremony room, a ping pong room and a whole room dedicated to snooker and pool), but their facilities far outstripped and outshone those of PLC: there were whole labs dedicated to Chemistry and or Physics (with separate computer and experiment labs or rooms for learning about electricity, which were complete with built in ammeters and voltmeters into the tables). Thus, with the PLC snobs completely dumbfounded by the extraordinary school, we managed to take incalculable photos of each and every room in the tour.

By the way, highlight of the tour included a tour of the several pool and snooker tables in the pool and snooker room, which also consisted of rather subaltern games of pool, unbelievable

With piercing trevail shooting up our legs, we were rewarded with free time, in which we could do anything and everything we wanted. Yes, we were the equivalent to monarchs and royalty at Ge Zhi, and that's the way (a-huh a-huh) I like it. Feeling the enticing and beguiling influence of the pool tables calling us, Lora, Swee and I headed downstairs in order to satisfy our yearning for the pool tables. Although we were lost in the labyrinth that is Ge Zhi High School, thanks to Swee's marvellous sense of direction and some valuable advice from an amiable woman, we eventually found ourselves in front of the room. Asking a kindly man and lady from the chess room to open the door for us, we whiled away the time teaching Lora the 'complexities' of the game and simply entertaining ourselves by tapping balls into some holes. Yes, fun fun.

Without a working clock in the room, we allowed ourselves navigation time (for obvious reasons) and headed back to the meeting room early. However, after making innumerable wrong turns, we ended up being the last there, albeit at the prompt time of 11:15am. That's right, the ingenuity demanded of the Chinese students to simply attend Ge Zhi High School, let alone pass their grades, will never cease to baffle me.

Taking a lift down to basement level, we found ourselves in a colossal canteen burgeoning with teachers and chefs armed with massive stacks of cartons of food (the adjacent separate student dining room was still empty). Following Michael’s (another English teacher and guide) lead, we collected a tray bearing the Ge Zhi insignia of rather scrumptious-looking lunch from the chefs. This consisted of vegetables and rice; a bowl of soup; fried fish; a nashi pear (which I declined); chopsticks from what was supposed to be a straw dispenser in Australia and a soup spoon from a nifty dispenser. Wolfing down our meal rather edaciously, we spent our time marvelling at the nourishing deliciousness of canteen food in China, as well as the fact that it was free. That's right, the exact opposite of what you will find in Australia...

After being candidly interviewed on camera by Mrs Buckman (yes, it wasn't exactly very shrewd to proclaim that Ge Zhi was far better than PLC on a PLC video camera), we finished our lunches and returned, rather satiated again, to the meeting room. We viewed our itineraries and engaged in leisurely chit-chat while marking Chinese students' English homework (yes, Edward took full advantage of our presence). Their work was remarkably articulate, with the exception of a few tense and grammar problems. However, due to the fact that I had spoken almost entirely in Chinese for the entire duration of the trip so far, I found myself making countless grammatical errors: "You should join you sentences so that [it] sounds better". Yes, it must be infectious. Moreover, Swee, Lora and I spent much time laughing at their sentences: I did the housework today. Sometimes labour is so pleasurable, isn't it? Also, we read an absolutely hilarious anecdote about Simon and Debbie (see photo), before heading off to a music lesson with a Ms Young at about 12:30pm.

We were lead by Michael and Edward to a music room and seated ourselves at the front of the stand, in front of some (perhaps they were Gao Er or Year 11) students. After watching an excerpt from 'Breakfast at Tiffany's', listening to Ms Young's melodious warbling and the learning how to sing an Audrey Hepburn classic (Moon River), she showed us a video of an elegant waltz. At this point, the PLC girls' hearts began to pound vigorously against our chests: we were going to dance.

With many male students nominating themselves to take part in the waltzing class in front of the disparaging eyes of their peers, they proceeded to choose their female partners: PLC girls. With a cocky male student apparently infatuated with Kathryn, we watched, amused, as Shermayne, Lora (humorously partnered with a monolithic male) and she mimicked the dancing positions as illustrated on a Powerpoint image onto a widescreen TV behind them. We had several rounds of dancing, which consisted of PLC girls, Ge Zhi girls and boys learning how to waltz. However, when approached by prospective partners, I hastily quickly averted my gaze and thus, with Yin Ling and Swee, avoided the putatively inevitable waltz class. After watching as the same cocky male student again picked Kathryn a second time and waltzing with her yet again with amorous eyes, we listened to two Ge Zhi boys and Shermayne (rather tunefully) crooning to a Chinese song of their choice. During this, we heard every student exclaiming in absolute astonishment when they realized that the Australian exchange students could actually speak Chinese (heaven forbid... this continued the whole day. Yes, even my host parents were so shocked I could use chopsticks on the first night, they still ordered a knife and fork specially for me). At the end of the class, we saw Kathryn escape swiftly from the room, much to the mystification and dismay of that male student. Well, there is such a thing as subtlety, you know.

Due to (Lora and my) shameless braggadocio, Swee was obliged to play a match with Michael, a self-proclaimed badminton star. Amidst more brazen cheering, we watched as Swee proved to be a rather challenging underestimated opponent, although Michael seemed to be emerging the overall winner and complacently jeered at such a virile young badminton player's (Michael) defeat over a fragile sixteen year old. However, after ten minutes, I found the badminton match rather tedious and headed off towards the classrooms in search of my host. After getting hopelessly lost and enlisting the help of several staff members, I found an empty classroom in place of where they should have been. Thus, groaning in utter dismay, I again fluked myself all the way to the badminton courts and lost a badminton game to Mao Ling.

After meeting Eileen at the end of the day, I took a lift downstairs while she was forced to descend the innumerable flights of stairs without the company of her particularly uncharitable exchange student. Walking home, we found a charming little shoe shop in which were the several of the most exquisite flats I had ever seen (yes, Australia isn't exactly renown for its 'unparalleled' style...). Thus, after much deliberation over the colour and size (yes, the cumbersome Western paddles on the bottom of my body are tres inconvenient in a country burgeoning with cute little Asians), I collected my jaw off the floor and paid a measly sum of 29 yuan for a dazzling pair of gold flats with a lace ribbon on the front.

Oh, Shanghai, Shanghai, wherefore art thou not situated near my abode?

-Mel

Mr Wang Photo Count: 11

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Outings, Rants, School

0 comment(s)

In spite of the fact that I was suffering from a severe shortage of sleeping time, I got up at the nice and early time of about 6:30am to the ceaseless beeping of cars below our 9th floor apartment.

After brushing my teeth (which tasted like conditioner due to the fact that it had spilt all over my precious toiletries), cleaning out my toiletry bag and thus throwing away some precious conditioner-saturated belongings, I consumed the massive amounts of leftovers from yesterday as breakfast as well as forcing in some dumplings (gosh, the amount of food that these Chinese trenchermen eat will never cease to shock and frighten little me) that my host mother bought for us to eat. Consequently I found myself unusually bloated after breakfast, which is a relatively light meal as what I'm used to.

During the meal, I spotted my host's Maths homework. Yes, despite escaping to a whole other continent far across the globe, the pervasiveness of my fearsome arch-enemy will never cease to pursue its hapless and helpless victim. Excellent. Anyway, feeling my 'Mathematical Peak' after revising relentlessly for the Maths Methods exam, I confidently asked for a Maths problem from my Year 10 host sister. Yes, and it turned out to be the biggest mathematical mistake I could ever make in (literally) the world. Armed with an ostensibly good mathematical background thanks to my good friend MM3/4, my mouth hit the floor rather painfully when I saw their 'standard Year 10 ' exercise: If f((x+1)/(1-x))=x, f(x)=____? Three letters: WTF. Although I managed to score several dead-ended and bootless attempts in solving this rather uncooperative conundrum, I found myself utterly stuck, like a fat lady in a training bra. My host father came over, saw me and asked if I was okay before hearing my host sister reply that "No, she can't do it." Argh! Thus, I was extremely resolute: I had to finish it. But after another 10 minutes with no success, I capitulated to this psychotic mind-basher of a problem and asked my Year 10 student for help, please. She laughed it off (almost certainly at the mindless braggart seated next to her), and promptly gave me the solution, which I still could not make any sense of. However, in a desperate attempt to preserve any last shreds of dignity (if applicable), I did not ask her about it, and nodded vaguely to signal my comprehension... Of course I understand. But damn Chinese ingenuity and DAMN Australian stupidity. ARGH.

Shrinking to her parents room to go on the computer, I attempted to finish my previous post whilst my host practiced her oboe. After spending aeons simply attempting to decipher the incomprehensible code (Chinese) before me, I completely gave up and simply relied on A: pure instinct from my previous experience with Windows XP and B: icons (ah, icons... not only aesthetically pleasing but absolute life savers). However, due to an unforseen crash (I shall now shake my fist vigorously at Bill Gates and company), I lost some of my post and thus gave up to go shopping for clothes, shoes and fobby scented stationery at around 10:15am with Eileen.

Clutching my camera rather enthusiastically (as I had forgotten to take it to the opulent five star restaurant), Eileen and I took some photos and also attracted the dirty looks and disapproval of several passers-by. After tapping our public transport cards (which can apparently also be used for anything from taxis to airplanes) on the cool touchpad thing to pay our fare, we settled down in an extremely crowded bus (as is every other bus in China) and watched the two TV screens installed in the bus (heavenly). It was a rather lengthy ride, and I was deafened by the constant unnecessary horning as a result. As we walked towards our destination, the famous shopping heaven Nanjing Lu (Nanjing Road), I succumbed to my consumerist desires in the underground tunnel and bought a Burberry-printed scarf for a mere 10 yuan (which is about AUD$1.67). Although I ruefully spotted several nicer scarfs of infinitely better quality during my trip, I was still extremely pleased with the outrageously cheap purchase.

When we reached Nanjing Lu, I marvelled at the absolute size of the colossal shopping heaven: it was exactly like the mall in Burke Street in Melbourne, except that it was approximately ten trillion times fuller, bigger, longer and wider. After bumping into countless people (with good reason), we decided to head into an adorable kid's department store (which was full of Barbies, cute clothing and everything else you can find at Myer except smaller) in order to satisfy my craving for fobby Asian stationery. Although I managed to buy Pauline's cheap eraser (haha) for about 2 yuan, there was no scented stationery (yes, I am a self-confessed pen-sniffer); thus, we decided to go somewhere else for cheaper and smellier pens.

After trawling the gargantuan street, Eileen and I went to a Japanese store for some noodles. We ordered some noodle soup (with frighteningly large ladles as soup spoons...?), chicken (shock horror) wings and enoki mushrooms wrapped in beef. It was divine, although she again ordered a ridiculous amount of food and I found myself excruciatingly bloated (but I am proud to proclaim that I did finish the noodles I ordered for myself).

We tried another cheap clothing store, but, craving for the even cheaper but squalid Asian clothing market stalls, we left Nanjing Lu (but took a crazy Mr-Hankin-amount of photos on the way) on a bus to go to the aforementioned market stalls. It took a while to get there, but there were again countless shopping centre burgeoning with the stalls. I immediately found a nice pair of knee-length cargo pants to replace my rather tight pair at home, and paid 90 yuan (AUD$15) for both the pants and a belt. Seeing the presence of several fashionable overcoats, I tried on several with no avail; they did not seem to suit me at all. Perhaps it was the pair of Adidas shoes on my clumsy Western feet, but I just did not seem cute, Asian and fobby enough to pull it off. Thus, after giving up the search for some imitation haute couture (fashionable Supresque clothing was disappointingly and surprisingly scarce), we decided to pursue my lust for FAS (Fobby Asian Stationery).

We took the same route 66 bus to a stationery shop somewhere (I have given up attempting to remember the actual Chinese names of districts for at least three seconds), and navigated boldly through red lights (yes, I'm getting a hang of this whole Asian road-dominance thing, except for that fact that I'm still getting almost run over twice per crossing) and relatively squalid streets on the oh-so-wrong right hand side of the road. Eventually, we reached a medium-sized bookshop with a corner (or shrine, rather) dedicated to stationery. Due to the several 'sheng ci' or new Chinese words that I requested my host sister to give to me, we bought a gorgeous pack of 'sheng ci' flash card things as well as some FAS (Fobby Asian Stationery), much to my delight. Yes, I was drooling with ecstasy: I was actually in the fabled FAS heaven. However, due to the fact that there was another stationery shop not far away, we paid (I watched as Eileen argued about the dodgy price calculation and listened to the shoplady's incoherent Shanghainese rantings) for our pens and walked quite a distance past several of those notorious and dirty road side stalls and such to the next stationery shop.

After looking through several glasses filled with scented pens (nasal bliss) and what not, I managed to buy approximately around ten scented thin-tipped gel pens, ten scented highlighters, two scented blue ball pens, some name stickers, some 'Sign Here' kind of tags, whiteout tape as well as another blue Burberry-like pencil case. Yes, you can see that I splurged on this FAS, but due to the extremely cheap prices (about 1 to 2 yuan per piece and 12 yuan or AUD$2 for the pencil case), how could I resist?!

We then walked what seemed like ages on the dangerous roads (never in Australia...) to meet Andy, who was Eileen's friend and my host for next week, and Bill, who was his friend. We were picked up in front of Bill's school by Andy's father Tony (yes, they actually had a car) to go to Central Avenue, which was, true to its name, a major road in the centre of Shanghai. After marvelling at a peculiarly-shaped concert hall and sundial clock thing (refer to pictures), we took full advantage of the rather windy conditions that day and bought a kite for a mere 20 yuan to fly in the stunning square before us. Satisfied with his 20 yuan, the man was kind enough to help us fly the kite, and managed to reduce it to a diminutive spot in the darkening sky. We each took turns attempting to maintain its height, as well as tormenting and teasing a poor little boy beside us who didn't manage to get his kite that high (well... it was just me, really).

After a while, we took a leisurely stroll through the square, past a bunch of extremely tall posts (and wasted speculating about the actual number of posts from a distance, only to find out that Andy was right in saying there were eight - not sixteen or thirty-two... argh...). We walked past these posts; the architectural gem that was the colossal Shanghai Science and Technology Centre; a massive welcome sign (I think...) on the front lawns made entirely out of red flowers; as well as several roadside sellers to enter another architecturally superior square. While the Shanghainese students shrugged the sheer beauty of it all, my eyes had begun to ache painfully due to my absolute amazement and wonder at the rather busy Central Square.

We spent a long time simply wandering down a long and wide footpath gazing at the well-kept gardens lining either side. However, due to the fact that we were supposed to meet Tony back at our starting point at 5:05pm, we decided to head back. When we ran into Tony (with good timing), we were then chauffered to a large stadium, in which was a classy restaurant that served famous Shanxi noodles (don't ask me... just smile and nod). In spite of our reservations resulting from a hearty lunch of noodles, we ordered several dishes (again... God, it's shocking how Chinese people still manage to appear underweight given the circumstances), consisting of a plate of tofu-like meat and 'wood ear' (the actual English word for it was debatable) as well as noodles of many forms: fruit-peel-like hand cut noodles, carrot-coloured noodles, quaint scab-shaped noodles and crystal noodles were among these. After impressing or disgusting the waitresses with our gluttony, we eventually found ourselves too full to finish our meal, and decided to take some home for Eileen's parents.

We were picked up at 6:30pm and taken home to more find that Eileen's parents had more food. Honestly, they should know that it is possible to kill someone with roast beef, irrespective of how succulent it appears.

-Mel

Mr Wang Photo Count: 6

PS. Please excuse any trace of intense sarcastic bitterness in the post as Internet Explorer crashed and lost this post YET AGAIN.

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Maths, Outings

0 comment(s)

Due to the alluring call of poker as well as general indolence, I failed to post yesterday; however, rest assured that Melissa Tam has not been run over by a rogue motorcyclist (just yet).

After two hours of leisure time at Changi Airport, Singapore, we boarded the plane SQ 826 at 7:40 for a five hour flight to Shanghai. With the party divided into two rows, I found myself seated adjacent to a Shanghainese man with a spare seat in the middle. Throwing our luggage on this chair, I waited an hour before finishing 'My Super Ex-Girlfriend'. We were also served brunch (which was again slightly bland); however, to my absolute horror, the flight attendant cleared the set of cutlery (which this time included a metal butter knife in lieu of the flimsy plastic one on SQ 218) that I had deliberately placed far from her reach. Rats.

Although I had resolved to watch the spirited teen fluff 'John Tucker Must Die' for some mindless garbage entertainment, I found myself dozing off due to my unpleasant lack of sleep (four hours on the previous flight). To my pleasant surprise, I managed to grab myself another two hours, and thus satisfied my bare minimum sleep requirement for function. Although I only managed to pilfer a small sample of jam as well as a small cup of water, the ride was smooth.

Reaching Shanghai around midday, I found myself plunging into a wave of Asian-smelling air (by that I mean suffocating), which was reminiscent of the humid air in Singapore. Passing a total of five SARS warning signs (which, by the way, is oh-so welcoming for paranoid foreigners such as us) as well as a special SARS and avian flu monitoring office, we joined the queue for the passport check. In spite of the fact that Carrie, Kathryn and I joined the shortest queue, we also happened to join the slowest. The line next to us was more than twice as fast, and hordes of travellers (including several of the other exchange students) to our right were trickling through the gate at a leisurely (but still fast) pace. After watching as refreshments marched past in a disciplined straight line and replaced their exhausted colleagues, I finally found myself in front of a cranky (but unfortunately, not hot) officer that stared at me condescendingly several times with the 'Evil Eye'.

After indulging in some vanity shots, we collected our luggage (which was already conveniently placed in front of an empty baggage carousel due to our slowness), went through customs and reached the arrivals gate to see some Ge Zhi High School English teachers waiting for us. Although we did get lost in an elevator (the elevators at the airport are absolutely massive, and are capable of fitting 73, I repeat, 73 people) at one point, we eventually squashed into the diminutive bus with our large amounts of luggage. Due to unfortunate timing, I found myself to be the one without a seat, and was consequently forced to share a seat with Mao Ling, adjacent to the notorious Mr Zheng Hua Wang.

During the ride, I watched in sheer horror as Edward (an English teacher at Ge Zhi) turned around from the putative drivers seat to face us and learn of our names. My eyes widened in bewilderment and I felt an oncoming panic attack: oh my God, oh my God, oh my GOD, you psycho, turn around and drive before you run into a cyclist! However, it wasn't long before I realised that as well as adopting the rather peculiar custom of driving on the right side of the road (which to me is just immoral and plain wrong), the driver was seated on what was supposed to be the passenger seat. After taking a long period of time in order to just adjust and process this absolutely bizarre practice, we turned around to marvel at a magnet train as it rushed past. In fact, the magnet train is capable of reaching speeds of about 430kph, which is about four times the speed of a car on a freeway and half the speed of an airplane (yes, I am an avid fan of the flight path and statistics channel). However, in order to combat dizziness and motion sickness, passengers apparently have to wear special glasses. Anyway, we also observed the countless skyscrapers in the Shanghai skyline (which starkly contrasted with the amount of skyscrapers - or lack thereof - in Melbourne), as well as the Pearl Tower, made famous in a particularly challenging sample essay given to us in Chinese class by Ms Liu.

After getting horned at by other cars for no reason whatsoever; cutting into lanes like a psychotic Road Raged driver and listening to continuous horning in the distance (which eventually became a constant background noise), we reached Ge Zhi High School about forty minutes later and got off to meet our host students. My host student was a sixteen year old Gao Er (Year 10) girl (see photos above) by the name of Eileen Gao. However, due to the fact that I desperately needed an international phone card in order to call Mum and confirm that I was still alive, I was forced to cart my heavy and turgid luggage bag through the streets of Shanghai, much to the exasperation of several citizens (damn foreigners!), especially when it veered off course whilst I was crossing the road. We eventually got to the phone card store and I paid 35 yuan (AUD$1 is equivalent to 6 yuan) for a card with a rather battered and ripped (damn paper money) note, which was almost rejected. After walking for what seemed like aeons back to where we started (Ge Zhi), we were forced to comb the streets again for a taxi. We managed to find a taxi, albeit without seat belts (shock horror) and with a protective plastic compartment for the taxi driver, either to protect us or protect him (I'm still trying to figure out which is true). It took us half an hour to go to her house; but I was thoroughly entertained by some passenger rules (NO psychos or drunkards allowed in taxis and NO conniving at poor driving) and some taxi driver rules (NO spitting or vulgarities, which I must admit, were rather apathetically cast aside...).

We we reached home, I received an extremely accomodating and warm welcome by her parents, who promptly offered me several items they had bought specially for me (such as slippers and a big red mug). After dropping and almost shattering their phone in my apprehension, I managed to call my parents and hog their computer MSNing (thank God they had it).

After settling in, we headed off in a taxi to a five star hotel to eat Peking Duck (a superlative welcome feast to China) at a famous restaurant. After witnessing several weddings in several different restaurants (apparently it was an exceptionally auspicious date on the 25th of November for weddings), we went to an extremely large and opulent restaurant. We ordered from the waitress with a handheld computer (ah, the luxury) and went out to buy some beverages, due to the fact that stingy Asians like to charge fellow stingy Asians for bare essentials such as water. However, the items were extremely cheap, and we the equivalent of about AUD$1.50 for three or four bottled drinks, whilst a bottle of water (I won't mention any names) in Australia would cost this much.

The food (Peking duck, lamb meatball things, sweet corn slices, dumplings, an endearing serve of duckie-shaped biscuits and so on) arrived extremely quickly in spite of the fact that a wedding banquet of approximately 200 people was taking place in the restaurant. A chef came over to cut the Peking duck, which turned out to be absolutely sumptuous. Yes, according to Eileen's father (who turned out to be a cook) and mother (a dentist), this was real Chinese food, not the Australian-pleasing serves of reheated dim sims and fried rice (I beg to differ, however: you just have to know where to go), and the food turned out to be simply ambrosial, as one would expect from a famous five star restaurant.

Unfortunately, Eileen's parents had severely overestimated my appetite, and ordered no less than nine separate dishes, which, in Australia, would be enough to satiate three families. Thus, suffering from excruciating abdominal bloating, I gave up and headed out with Eileen for some shopping. Due to the burgeoning population of 18 million in the city of Shanghai alone (the whole continent of Australia only has a population of 20 million), the streets were absolutely chock-a-block full of people, which is only akin to last-minute-Christmas-Eve shopping in the Melbourne CBD (times two). However, it is hard to complain due to the sheer magnitude of the shopping experience. Melbourne has a shopping centre in a suburb here and there, and Singapore even has the massive and famous Orchard Road, which is lined with shopping centres; Shanghai, on the other hand, has several shopping centres on one street (much like Orchard Road), and contains innumerable 'Orchard Roads', all of which intersect each other in a chaotic patchwork of sheer shopping paradise. Yes, as described in great detail in a particularly flowery and complicated sample essay given to us in Chinese class by Ms Liu, it is truly a shopper's utopia, and is beyond anything anyone can ever imagine to imagine. The clothes and shoes are absolutely divine, and are cheap (with the exception of department stores) beyond our wildest dreams.

However, let me take this opportunity to say that Shanghainese roads and traffic are virtually the most psychotic, heart-attack-inducing things I have ever experienced in my life. In Australia, a green pedestrian light will guarantee you a carefree traipse across any zebra crossing: you could even somersault across it blindfolded without the fear of being run over. However, a carefree traipse in Shanghai alone is almost certain to turn you into roadkill: cars plough through chains of pedestrians indifferently, and you are not expected to look both ways but ALL ways. Furthermore, pedesterians are expected to treat the roads as their own personal footpath, and walk through the centre of major intersections in red lights as if they were walking in the park. It's hard to tell who is really ruling the road, and I don't think I will ever be able to figure it out. That's right, the traffic systems in China are oh-so reliable.

After window shopping for an hour, we took a taxi back home (luckily, the taxi drivers are not dodgy chain smoking rapists like in *ahem*). After taking a shower and cursing at the conditioner bottle which had leaked all over my toiletries for a mysterious reason, the family and I had a webcam chat with my parents and pets, I sat down and began to teach the whole family how to play poker in Chinese (but failing). Yes, I have corrupted my innocent Chinese host family with no knowledge of the evils of Western gambling. However, after some clever interpretation by Eileen, we eventually managed to teach her father (her mother had fallen asleep at this point after listening to my animated drone...) and played several rounds of poker until 10:45pm (1:45am in Australian time, which is amazing due to my supposed lack of sleep and drowsiness). By the end of the night, I had managed to steadily lose all my savings; conversely, the newbies had managed to gain substantial winnings.

Yes, I have managed to bring my suckiness all the way to China.

-Mel

Mr Wang Photo Count: 6

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Outings, Rants

0 comment(s)

Hey guys, I am currently typing this at Changi Airport, Singapore, in the two hours of free time graciously given to me whilst in transit.

After finishing some frenzied and last minute packing, I eagerly left my house yesterday at 8pm, in spite of the doe-eyed look of sorrow from my dog (either that or she was constipated) when seeing me go. In the company of my aunts and uncle, I bid bon voyage to Bap and Mum at the restaurant (the latter was rather emotional as well) and went to the airport.

However, due to my zeal, I reached the airport at 9:30pm: one hour early. Dragging my uncle on my arm in order to deceptively give the impression that he was a sugar daddy of sorts, I browsed the Duty-Free shop and stole no less than ten samples of a large diversity of perfumes, ranging from Dior to Givenchy. Smelling rather pungent and looking like a crazed psychopath at this point, I was forced to leave the store in order to preserve the last shreds of my dignity.

Eventually the time came and several of my fellow travellers arrived at the airport. After receiving phone calls from Mandy and Yee (both of whom I successfully creeped out with stalkerish declarations); not-so-discreetly discussing my liberal use of DRUGS(!!!) whilst queueing for check in; furtively taking photos of the delightful Mr Wang as well as generally poking fun at myself for the sake of comedy, we eventually made it to the check in. Surprisingly, I did not surpass the baggage limit by the magnitude that I had previously envisaged: my rather turgid bag weighed in at a mere 20.5kg.

After bidding our au reviors at the customs gate and dashing into the passport check (and running into a rather hot but cranky officer by the name of Andre), we finally made it to the airport lounge. We explored the ludicrously overpriced souvenirs and bric-a-brac before heading to the toilets tentatively a la Japanese school girls in China. Because of our tardiness, however (which we can attribute to the ridiculously long chain of travellers in the queue at check in), we had to leave almost immediately to go to the Singapore Airlines plane.

The staff were extremely accomodating; however, due to the fact that they were all Singaporean, they closely resembled several of my friends and family, which was both refreshing and disconcerting. Seated between Lora and Yin Ling, I spent the relatively smooth plane ride indulging in in-flight entertainment (the absolute highlight of otherwise mundane flights) and, during meal times, stealing the generous amounts of metal cutlery given to us by the staff. So far, I have taken advantage of two cutlery sets as well as establishing a reputation as a possible cutlery-brandishing psychopath with airline and customs staff. After watching most of 'My Super Ex-Girlfriend' whilst in a semi-inebriated state, I succumbed to my somnolence and fell asleep in a rather unusual and uncomfortable upright position. After three hours of broken sleep, I was awakened by Lora for a 'refreshment', which turned out to be a rather substantial (although slightly bland-tasting) dinner. After attempting to watch an excerpt from 'You, Me and Dupree' as well as finishing the conclusion of 'My Super Ex-Girlfriend' (but failing due to the fact that it was literally 5am), I managed to wrap myself in the 'economy' (that translates to cheap and extremely thin) blanket and go to sleep for a little while.

It didn't seem long before we got to Singapore, however, and I was again submerged in the familiar blanket of humidity. Given two solid hours to roam around before heading off to Shanghai, Swee, Lora and I ambled around the 'in transit mall'. We read magazines in the bookshop (yes, these stingy cheap Asians); browsed the internet and examined the amount (or lack thereof due to their substantial prices) of items in haute couture shops such as Prada and Gucci. Ah, no matter what country you're in, they never seem to change.

Anyway, also due to Asian stinginess, consequential time limits on the airport computers as well as the fact that I am (was) webcamming and chatting to Mum, Bap and Chloe on MSN, I am actually completing the Singapore part of my post in Shanghai. Asian stinginess. Trust me, there is more to come...

-Mel

PS: Current Mr Wang Photo Count: 3

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Outings

0 comment(s)

After half a day at school, I am almost prepared for the trip at five minutes past midnight today (well, it is technically tomorrow).

Yes, I was still obligated to return to the dark corridors of PLC for Unit 3/4 Preparation classes, which were almost devoid of any students except for ambitious Physics and Specialist Maths students. However, after enduring Jaque's spirited and seemingly endless tirade about the dos and don'ts of Shanghainese tourism, several of us then had to go through relentless scare tactics and long winded pep talks about the horrors of Year 12 Maths and Physics. Also, due to the fact that I am leaving 'today', I had to collect my English exam (strangely, Mr Morrissey seemed to be more entranced by the mediocre creative story rather than the thorough and coherent essay) as well as some pre-Year-12 preparation material and information.

Thoroughly intimidated, I took a tram and made my way to Malaya restaurant at Knox City for a light lunch in a bid to finally escape the fearsome clutches of Year 11, only to be ensnared in the infinitely more terrifying net of Year 12.

-Mel

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Maths, Outings, School

0 comment(s)

Today was my first day of freedom from anything remotely academic; it was the first time in an entire year where I was not obliged to study like a lunatic. However, I am rather ashamed to admit that instead of spending a blissful day off from the usual academic barrages at school, I whiled away the time engaging in scholarly activities. This apparent 'addiction' to study probably provides a rather impressive indicator of the extent of the influence of my school subjects. Argh.

Unfortunately, I did not sleep in this morning, and woke up at the usual time of approximately 7:30am. Whilst Mum would usually be shrieking at me at this point, I awakened to the sound of silence and the occasional chirping of my cockatiel. I managed to climb onto my computer for the rest of the day, taking countless Mensa IQ and Admission Tests as well as several brainteasing puzzles in order to boost my self-confidence and establish myself as a 'talented wunderkind' in their books. Although this did not exactly amount to anything and only seemed to give the impression that I was either teetering on the borderline between average and intelligent or -especially when I had already learned of the answers from previous discussions with fellow sloths - comfortably within the 'intelligent' section of the scale.

Following these rather bootless tests, I spent the entire day eagerly looking forward to the flight tomorrow (oh my gosh!) and referring to the textbook and TSFX notes in a vain attempt to have a head start in Chemistry Unit 3. Although this was again rather fruitless due to the fact that the hordes of information would be completely forgotten tomorrow without the aid of any practice questions (yes, the procrastinatory side of me persisted as I vowed to do the questions 'some other day...'). However, I almost managed to get through a whole 'Area of Study', which translates to over half a term's work. I can also proudly proclaim that I now know what 'gravitometric analyses' and 'aliquots' are. Until tomorrow, anyway.

Anyway, tomorrow is sure to be extremely exciting, and I am enthusiastically awaiting my flight with anticipation. Armed with several paranoid health tips from all my over-paranoid relatives (which include but are not limited to: "Carry antiseptic hand wash with you AT ALL TIMES", "Clean the plane headrests and suspiciously oily windows in case you catch ACNE" and "BUY GASTROLITE IF YOU HAVE THE RUNS"). Sure thing...

However, to inject some hilarity into the exchange trip that commences tomorrow (well, it's Saturday five minutes past midnight, really), I decided to send an email to my fellow spirited travellers issuing a challenge (which echoes my previous post 'What Not To Do To An Exchange Student') to whoever feels particularly audacious:

Hey girls,

Before we set off for our fortnight-long 'hen's night' to improve our Chinese, buy illegal DVDs and generally just enjoy ourselves before the impending doom that is Year 12, I have decided to create something rather exciting.
In order to liven up our trip as well as provide some comic relief during tedious bus trips or vent some frustration from 24 hours of your host's incessant and incoherent Chinese chitter-chatter, I've decided to issue a set of challenges to you and the rest of the exchange students.

I challenge you to:

Take as many pictures with Mr Wang as possible.
Steal as many of Mr Wang's personal items (bonus points for toiletries) as possible.
Get Mr Wang to say the word 'asthma' or 'ASHMAAHHHHH' as many times as humanly possible.
Sit next to Mr Wang at every available opportunity: buses, airplanes, meetings, even on the toilet if you can.
Scare Mr Wang by jumping out of corners or behind doors as many times as you can.
While Mr Wang is asleep, try to pick out as many hairs as you can without him noticing.
Steal your host's toilet rolls and stash them in your bag. When you are about to leave, dump them in your host's sibling's room.
Swear at your host in English, only to tell her in Chinese that it means 'Hello' in English.
Explain to your host in detail that kangaroos are Australian athletes dressed in a fur coat, and tell them that you ride them to school.
Accidentally throw some white talcum powder on yourself whilst in transit.
Go into your host's toilet wearing a surgeon's mask.
Cough loudly when in the company of your Chinese friends.

Good luck girls, and pass this on to our fellow travellers.

-Mel

PS. Please please please, for the sweet love of God, don't ever pass this to Mr Wang or Mrs Buckman, or I will get deported. However, if they have already read this, LIGHTEN UP! I SWEAR, I'M JUST KIDDING!

Fingers crossed that I really do not get deported a la Naomi Robson.

-Mel

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Meh

0 comment(s)

As indicated in the above title, today marks the beginning of the end. That is, the end of the days in which our year level would while away the time rocking in our budget chairs whilst hyponitized by the monotononous drone of the teacher; the days when we would sit and 'innocuously' play several rounds of poker; the days when the locker bay was not a study area, but a sanctuary; the days when procrastination was our number one priority; the days when school was an idyllic paradise in which we could tumble through without consequence; and the days when we could ramble on incoherently in a seven line sentence without incurring severe penalities from meticulous teachers. Yes that's right, the everlasting party land that was the Year 11 area has been deserted and is soon to be passed down to posterity (namely, the Year 10s). Now, we are to ascend the proverbial thrones that were not so long ago occupied by the Year 12s. We are to be the leaders and the next batch of VCE (and IB) study whores.

Yesterday, I could almost taste - excuse the cliched phrase - the 'freedom' (the inverted commas are there for good reason). After studying minimally for Chinese, that is, studying during the twenty minute tram ride that ended up to be ten minutes due to cranial vacancy, I went into the examination room rather unprepared. However, due to our rather loquacious teacher Ms Liu's chattiness, we were thoroughly relaxed and began our exams without much fuss. Whilst listening to the stoned drone of Colin Chen and company, I realised that this exam was, in fact, notably easier than our weekly practice papers in the double LOTE periods. Feeling rather confident, I waded my way through each section with ease, and managed to write a satisfying essay advocating the Chinese LOTE subject to Year 7s in a speech format. What's more satisfying is the large number of 成语 or 'idioms' I peppered throughout it as some impressive mark-boosting embellishments.

Finishing rather early with twenty or so minutes to spare, we were treated to a prolonged lecture about the 'Detailed Study' in the oral component of our assessment next year. However, with the culmination of our Chinese exam as well as some of the usual chitter-chatter with my peers, I was picked up by my parents and went to Box Hill in order to indulge in a large steaming bowl of scrumptious egg noodles and crispy roast pork at Canton Lake. This was then followed by some grocery shopping and a sizeable cup of Bubble Cup ice blended strawberry with pearls. Yes, you can just see the post-exam luxuries!

Today was our last exam: Physics. In spite of the fact that I was generously allocated two full days in total to study for this, I opted to procrastinate as always, and studied minimally; this means that my study basically consisted of skimming old notes whilst watching repeats of Futurama. Excellent preparation!

This 'tried and true' method of achieving continued today, where I spent time lamenting the sweltering heat and marvelling at the new look of my dog Chloe: Bap and I spent one and a half hours in the blistering heat stripping her thick, hot and wiry canine overcoat to expose her soft undercoat. This was in order to reduce the exasperating hair loss all over the furniture and reduce the horrible effects of a Melburian heat wave. Due to my formidable hand and fine motor skills, Chloe was left with several conspicuous bald patches as well as the absence of the endearing Border Terrier beard, which, to Mum, is the defining feature of my little canine. As a result, she now resembles a pointy-faced rat suffering from severe stress or hereditary hair loss. Much like Pauline's mysterious hair recession. But anyway, I seem to be digressing.

So anyway, after bursting outside to enjoy the cool breezes in the late morning, Mum and I went to buy some last minute travel essentials (such as shampoo bottles) from the local $2 shop (where else do Asians go for 'quality' goods?!) and have a hearty brunch while Bap indulged in an ignorantly blissful sleep. We ended up going to a cafe on Stud Road. I ordered their passionfruit cheesecake and bacon and eggs on toast, while Mum had a serve of pumpkin soup. Reading the latest women's gossip magazine whilst gorging ourselves with fine food at a slothly pace (is there any other way?) in lieu of studying for my end of year exam, we eventually waddled to the grocery shop and returned home saturated and bloated to a ravenous Bap. Bad luck, eh?

Finally remembering that I had an exam that afternoon, my parents, Chloe and I went to school. Instead of writing a 'Cheat Sheet', which we were ostensibly allowed from a rather clueless Mrs Hondrakis, I spent my time doing you-know-what-by-now-or-at-least-by-looking-at-my-nickname.

However, let me take this opportunity to say that the exam was extremely hard, and was the most abstract, psychotic and generally bizarre exam I had taken so far. Littered with random questions and obscure concepts, I spent much time just trying to grasp the actual question. However, after reading time and fully diving into the exam, I found it easier and began to instinctively comprehend the exam, as I usually seem to do.

After the exam, discussing the extreme difficulty involved with fellow Physicists (so much so that we could not compare answers - they were all too far apart) and desperately purchasing cheap second hand Physics books from a passing Year 12, I went home to relax for a few minutes before taekwondo began.

Yes, this again was the first taekwondo session in ages. Again there were several new faces (including one that closely resembled and even sounded like Sylvester Stallone), but the same cocky teenager with Krakatoan offspring erupting on his face (Luke) was still there. After bludging a grading lesson with him, I was left completely outshined and humiliated by his ludicrous sharpness and competence in taekwondo. Moreover, I am extremely lucky that I am going to China on Friday (only two sleeps!), otherwise I would be vociferously terrorized or sworn at by our Master Burai to participate in the 'Club Championship', much in the way that he did to my brother and several other members or members' parents (he even spoke to Mum).

Let me tell you that an impassioned body-building sixty year old taekwondo master flanked by an army of associate black belts is infinitely more daunting than any Mathematical Methods exam.

-Mel

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Outings, School

0 comment(s)

Today was the last day of Year 11 Maths for 2007, excluding the excruciatingly GM*-like Physics on Wednesday. However, many students will rejoice tonight with the culmination of all purely mathematical subjects for this year.

Getting up and emerging into the blistering Melburnian summer much earlier than usual, I made my way to school whilst beginning my GM* revision in the twenty minutes I had on the tram to school. With such exceptional scheduling, I managed to complete approximately one or two pages out of a total of about ten. Proud of my shining achievement, I hiked up the PLC hill pumped for the exam, until I froze suddenly (which was the exact opposite of Pauline's habitual seizures). The 'Cheat Sheet' that I had completed last night (and happened to be the only piece of 'revision' I had truly completed prior to the exam) was thoughtlessly left among the innumerable papers, tissues, Yakult bottles and what not at home.

Realising the incoming tsunami threatening to topple my recently rebuilt village as well as the expensively restored infrastructure following the Maths Methods exams, I dashed up and down the Year 11 corridors in search of prospective wunderkinds generous enough to allow me to photocopy their Cheat Sheets. After checking Leonie's rather barren Cheat Sheet (for obvious reasons), I enlisted the help of Yee Ling, who was willing to lend me her Cheat Sheet in the final crucial moments before the GM* exam.

However, with the new photocopy credit system (which required an ID card and a photocopy card purchase at the PLC shop) that was ingeniously designed by notoriously bitter librarians in order to cause even more inefficiency and inconvenience to the fee-paying students than ever thought possible, as well as the fact that the Library was still closed for some obscure reason, I began to panic. Leaping up the stairs to the computer rooms, I burst into them in search of a working scanner as a photocopier's substitute. Failing to scan in the first room, I ran to the next one (which happened to be the only other room out of four that was open for another obscure reason). After reaching meltdown-point whilst waiting for a junior student to finish scanning a random anime CD cover onto her comprehensive album of random anime photos, I jumped onto the computer and proceeded to scan the Cheat Sheet. However, as I attempted to print it, I remembered that the 'scanning' computer did not print, and that the computers that were closer to the printer were infinitely more reliable in the printing department. Jumping on a different computer, I spent much valuable time waiting for the infuriating Macintosh cursor to finish with its exasperating rotations and log me in. However, after listening to the signal bell; wiping off perspiration on my forehead as well as trying two computers with no success, I dashed back to the first computer room to take a chance with the trusty old printer in there.

Again jumping on a computer auspiciously located adjacent to the printer, I attempted to print with still no success. Several other students who were also joining me in the hunt for a Cheat Sheet were in there, and managed to get the obstinate scanner to work as well as getting the rather inert printer to work for them. After trying to print several more times with no avail, I ran to their already abandoned computers and feverishly pressed the 'Print' button innumerable times on two different computers in order to get at least one full Cheat Sheet. However, in spite of the fact that they, for some arcane reason, managed to print several copies of the Cheat Sheet for their own purposes, the printer remained pervicaciously still in my presence, and refused to print out my desperately needed Cheat Sheet. My whole body suffering Mathspox-like spasms in the final five minutes before the exam started (might I add, two floors and a long driveway away), the printer finally choked out half of Yee Ling's Cheat Sheet and half of Jo's (which I disposed of due to the evident intense panic and irrationality at that point). With no time to waste, I made do with what the printer offered me and flew to Hilda Mackay Hall with Yee Ling's Cheat Sheet in hand.

Despite feeling flustered, disadvantaged and generally panicky at that point, I stumbled into a chair and commenced reading time. Thus, let me emphasise my ire at the PLC IT facilities and or staff.

I AM ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS AT YOUR INABILITY TO PROVIDE THE STUDENTS OF PLC (WHO PAY TENS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS A YEAR FOR YOUR FACILITIES AS WELL AS A HEFTY, OVERPRICED AND UNNECESSARY COMPUTER LEVY TOTALLING SEVERAL HUNDRED DOLLARS) WITH A FUNCTIONAL AND RELIABLE COMPUTER SYSTEM. I AM DISGUSTED AT YOUR LACK OF SUPPORT FOR THE MATHSPOX-SUFFERING STUDENTS OF THIS SCHOOL, AND YOUR INSENSITIVITY DURING EXAM TIME. IS IT SO MUCH TO ASK YOU, OSTENSIBLY TRAINED AND EVEN PHD-HOLDING STAFF, TO MAKE THE COMPUTERS ACTUALLY WORK? FOR THE AMOUNT OF LABORIOUSLY EARNED MONEY THAT WE PAY, IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK? WILL ANYTHING BUT A JUVENILE HEART ATTACK AND A RESULTANT LAW SUIT CONVINCE YOU? IS IT SO MUCH TO ASK?

But anyway, taking my blatant lack of preparation and revision (as well as the absence of my own Cheat Sheet) into account, I did surprisingly well in the GM* exam with the exception of the usual careless and overwhelmingly excruciating arithmetic errors and so on. I managed to finish work within the allocated time (whilst many didn't), and answered every question confidently and to the best of my ability. I am rather proud of my skilful 'tumbling'.

After the exam, I discovered that the girl with the ludicrously cheap Physics books (a textbook and two Neap SmartStudy guides for a mere $25) had conveniently been unable to pass the books over to her messengers (argh, the reliability of PLC and everything in it just amazes me). But feeling so slothly in the Post-Exam 'slump', simply insert 'girl with the ludicrously cheap Physics books' into the above rant as well as several miserly-Asian complaints for the desired effect.

Anyway, in the aforementioned Post-Exam 'slump', I spent several hours eating ridiculously inflated and overpriced canteen food (the exemplar of the demand vs. supply economic theories); lazing around with a group of fellow sloths loquaciously discussing every film under the Tuscan sun (okay, that was slightly lame) and generally procrastinating and enjoying ourselves doing so.

And I will continue with my admirable tumbling until the tram ride before the Chinese exam tomorrow.

-Mel, who is now Maths-free (with the exception of Physics... argh!)

Labels: Maths, Meh, Milestones, Rants, School

0 comment(s)

Today is my 'Study Vigorously for GM* Day', which is conveniently scheduled one day before the actual exam. Hurray!

Although I haven't exactly pursued mathematical enlightenment just yet due to a busy schedule, rest assured that I have finished watching the swashbuckling 'The Mask of Zorro' for the sixth time. I promise to begin immediately after I condense and solidify after overcoming the horrid melting-in-the-blistering-heat period during a particularly torturous weekly bike ride this morning. Trust me.

However, with the Shanghai trip preparations at full steam ahead, I have been rather busy. For example yesterday, Mum took me to Knox City Shopping Centre for some supplies as well as a $20 backpack on sale, which was then reduced to $15 due to a minute stain the size of the ends of my mullet (argh). Ah, such miserly Asian abilities demand respect! Anyway, today we will pack a fortnight's worth of clothing as well as a fortnight's worth of bottled water and a tinea-proof pair of Havaianas. Such paranoia demands ridicule!

-Mel

PS. In case you were wondering, no, Chloe did not get trampled on by rogue ponies again; instead, she was almost run over by a cyclist. However, swerving in time to avoid this rather turgid specimen of a Border Terrier, the nice man fell off his bike into some rather hostile bushes. Yes, accidents and Chloe go together like a fat kid and some cake.

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Maths, Outings

0 comment(s)

Today marked the beginning of the academic onslaught that are the Year 11 exams. Ludicrously unarmed with the usual ammunition of facts, quotes and concepts tucked under my proverbial belt, I prepared myself for the possibility of the dreaded 'UG' (or 'Ungraded'), which is an erudite and teacher's euphemism for a failure in the respective exam.

Climbing onto the tram, I pulled out Shakespeare's unfortunately neglected 'Macbeth', and resolved to memorise every highlighted quote of significance in the play. Within twenty minutes, I had managed to skim half the play as well as managing to further obfuscate myself with the complexities of Shakespearean language. Sufficient preparation, indeed. However, trudging up the black asphalt road towards the wondrous Year 11 corridors, I sighted several Year 11s keenly delving into their books, several of whom were simultaneously losing their Shakespearean virginity, so to speak. Yes, I watched as my peers plunged into Shakespeare's world of confusing contents, bewildering beasts, strange soliloquys and excruciatingly enigmatic erm, plays, particularly those that go by the name 'Macbeth'. However, knowing that my revision time was limited, I decided to leave the Shakespearean delights to the crammers, instead opting for spirited sloth and gossiping about nothing in particular with the likes of Pauline. After all, an exam by any other name (than you-know-what) smells just as boring.

The exam commencement time came and passed, and I found myself seated in the hallowed Wyslaskie Hall, the menacing room in which innumerable sanity-pilfering exams would have taken place. As I peered at the examination paper, I expected an obscure thematic discussion or a long-winded thesis on the bearded witches; instead, however, I had been graciously given the following topic:

Macbeth: Villain or Victim?

Harking back to an essay written in class with a similar topic, I felt as if I had been granted a reprieve from the usual monotonous topics attached to Lady Macbeth's psychotic tendencies. I managed to write a rather satisfactory essay (in my opinion, anyway) within the given time limit. However, when it came to the creative writing, I was not so complacent. Warping a pre-devised plot and squashing into the rough shape of one of the creative 'prompts' (I looked the other way), I wrote a short story about the rape of a young 'voluptuous breast(ed)' girl (don't ask... it seemed dramatic enough at the time), which was unfortunately insufficient in the word length department. However, reaching the pinnacle of my indolence, I decided to leave it at one and a half sides (as opposed to my pleasing essay, which was three) and proofread and waited as the clock counted down to 'Pens Down Girls'.

Feeling rather complacent following the English exam, I decided to continue with the aforementioned bout of indolence, and did not pursue the obscure and abstract mess that was Chemistry. Instead, before heading off to a meeting at 12noon with Ms Dunn about the Shanghai exchange, I lounged around with fellow spirited sloths and discussed paranoic fears about China (including the prospect of being randomly stabbed in the posterior by rogue pickpockets) as well as issuing several challenges, such as coughing and spluttering when in the vicinity of your SARSphobic host family or taking as many vanity shots with Mr Wang as humanly possible. I believe that the former is much more inviting.

At 12noon, I headed off with Lora and Swee to the Principal's Foyer in order to collect our passports, visas, itineraries and what not from Ms Dunn, but not before running into the unfortunate subject of our conversation, Mr Wang. As many Chinese people claim, “说曹操，曹操就到！” or basically, "Speak of the Devil". 说曹操 indeed. After being informed of the horrors of Chinese water (conveniently after the payment for the exchange trip), we returned to the 'study group' (I use this term loosely) proudly clutching our travel packs, exchanging humiliating pre-pubescent ID photos as well as discussing the cheap quality of stingy Asian airlines and vomit. Yes, the latter was felicitously inserted for good reason...

After beginning my frantic Chemistry studying and cramming with fellow sloths five minutes prior to the exam, we made our way to Wyslaskie Hall yet again to take our Chemistry exam. It was (obviously) mostly straightfoward with relation to my previous failure (which was then promoted to a scraping pass) of a Chemistry test, and I managed to process the calculations by identifying the required numbers and units in lieu of actually reading and comprehending the question at hand. In spite of this rather unorthodox approach to the Chemistry conundrums in front of me, it was feasible enough to gain me a pass mark for the measly Unit 2 (hallelujah).

After the Chemistry exam, I continued with my rather persistent bout of indolence, and continued my extraneous discussions with fellow sloths.

Here's to tumbling through the exams (hence the name), as opposed to prancing through them in a Leoniesque manner.

-Mel+

Labels: Chinese Exchange, Meh, Milestones, School

0 comment(s)

Today was the last 'Study Day' before a flotilla of Year 11 Exams would be relentlessly fired at my fellow Year 11s and me, round after round.

Due to the extended gaze at the 'big picture' during the Pre-Maths-Exam period, I have still remained unnervingly calm and rather apathetic to these diminutive tests. Instead, I have spent my time procrastinating and indulging in guilty pleasures on TV, such as 'Neighbours', 'The OC' and various other pieces of sudsy fluff. Yes, shame on me indeed.

Today was the day of the prearranged book exchange. Recognising my desperate need for cheap second hand books, a Year 12 girl and I arranged to meet at school at 9am today, so that I could buy her Specialist Mathematics textbooks and revision material (excuse me while I shudder at the prospect of more Methodesque material), which were significantly thinner and smaller than the Methods textbook, which provoked a Pauline-like fit of mathematical ecstasy. I got it for a feasible price, and the stingy Asian miser within me was reasonably satisfied with the deal. However, as I met another girl for a SmartStudy Chemistry book, the Year 12 girls seemed to rally together and convince me that ten dollars was an excellent price. The miser was prodded ruthlessly by the purchase, but my desperation prevailed.

Afterwards, my parents and I made our way to Box Hill Central to pick up some groceries and some brunch in the form of sushi-sushi and hand-made noodles. In light of my upcoming exchange trip to Shanghai, China, we also exchanged AU$400 for ¥2400. Unfortunately, the Chinese denominations are all paper, which implies that it is easily ripped and non-machine-washable. But feeling the nagging call of my Chemistry and English books, I returned home and embraced them for a few seconds before returning to my duties as a blogger.

Ah, Year 12 will be bliss.

-Mel

Labels: Meh, Milestones, Outings

0 comment(s)

Due to the upcoming exams, PLC graciously allowed the entire Year level a 'Study Day', which translates to 'You'd Better Get 99.95 Or Else Day'. Thus, I spent today doing things I would never even imagine to imagine about during the hectic frenzy that was the pre-Methods-Exam period and Post-Methods-Syndrome period.

Firstly, I began the day at 10:30am with something that used to be commonplace before the aforementioned period of time: a luxurious, blissful half-hour back massage at Box Hill. It had been ages since my mathematical burdens were assuaged by the therapeutic effects of a good massage, and thanks to Dr Yau, anything that began with the word 'Math' was instantly forgotten. My back muscles feeling rather supple and rejuvenated, I made my way to commence a session of shopping with my parents before settling down to a sumptuous lunch in a quaint little Asian cafe.

At 1:30pm, I leant back into the hair washing basin at the Korean shop 'Good Morning Hair', feeling thoroughly relaxed. My mastermind of a hairdresser, Charlie (the boss), graciously used a menthol-based shampoo, which metaphorically draped a heavenly blanket of minty freshness over my head before he doused it with warm water. Yes, my affinity for soothing menthol shampoos make me weak at the knees, which is why I have such a passion for the Head and Shoulders Freshmint range, despite any trace of dandruff on my little head. I think.

Looking at a few pictures that I pinched off Ciara the previous night, I decided to try something new with my rather static hairstyle and opted for a funky Asian mullet. Having a bad experience with mullets previously, I shivered with fear at the thought of it; however, looking at her exemplar of the funky Asian mullet, which, in TB-speak is 'teh sexiness', I decided to try it out.

Showing Charlie the pictures as well as marvelling at his ever-changing hairstyle (well, he is a hairdresser), he instantly knew what to do and set to work on my hair without a second glance. Well, if his skills with his own hair are this good, I don't think I can comprehend the exquisteness of his wife's hairstyle! Cutting off large chunks of my voluminous hair with several instinctive and professional cuts, he managed to shape my hair uncannily like those in the photos without much prompt. After meticulously spending much time and effort into making my hair look absolutely perfect, he made several cuts with the bizarre zig-zag layer scissors; a careful blow wave and hair-straightening as well as some citrus-scented hair wax to accentuate the spiky top of the mullet. The amount of work he put in contrasted (but not too much due to his marvellous meticulousness) with the usual blow wave and use of saccharinely scented hair serum associated with my rather low-maintenance old cut.

However, when it came to pay time, I shuffled my feet and looked down at the sparkling white floors.

"Erm, I have a loyalty card, and apparently I get this cut free..."

Yes, all his hard work and devotion to my hair's appearance as a follical aesthete and professional went without pay. However, he smiled it off as he dashed off to his delayed lunch (as he was cutting my hair), leaving me feel like a common thief. Excellent... However, in some hope of redeeming myself, I would just like to give a plug to 'Good Morning Hair' in the mall outside The Glen Shopping Centre in Glen Waverley, opposite the cinemas.

Finally, returning home (with a brief stop at Rich Maha for a quick pig out on delectable Indian yummies), we prepared ourselves for a much-missed bike ride (for the same reason as the others). Donning my new pair of bike leggings, we again went down to the Dandenong Creek Trail. Funnily enough, all of us were wearing helmets. However, as Chloe (my dog) entered the paddocks to visit her much-missed ponies at the pony farm, she was promptly trampled on by not one, but two ponies. In spite of this, she remained adamant in frolicking with these rather hostile equines. Very intelligent.

Now, please excuse me while I escape the study before I am suffocated by my sibling's rancid flatulence.

-Mel

Labels: Outings

0 comment(s)