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Top o’ the morning. What a f*cking way to start a day. Just tried to put down a deposit at the internet cafe with a 50 kwai note, and the guy mimed to me, ignominiously shaking his head and holding the note at arms length, that it was fake. I’m fairly decent on spotting them normally, and upon finally escaping this nasty beijiu hangover, I recognise that its glossy, near fire-retardant surface and bright, blotchy colours are tell-tale signs. A standard Chinese 50 is inked with variagated greens that run the spectrum and occasionaly lapse into blushing pinks and aquamarines. This counterfeit one seems as if it has been set at by one of my students with leaky felt-tips. On one side of the standard fifty, an elderly, benevolent Mao is austerely simpering, gazing out into the far distance. On the other is the vast majesty of Lhasa’a Potala Palace, built into an immense escarpment. Its not for me to point out the irony of these two images sharing the same note, as I possess neither the inclination nor the political astuteness to do do. Everyone’s familiar with the T-I-B-E-T controversy already and there are a multitude of political blogs and Hollywood actors outh there pontificating upon the same issues by rote. The 50 kwai note is a nice symbol to consider though.

I was slipped the dodgy one late last night by a taxi driver after a few drinks. It must be the easiest way to ship fake notes out, drunken laowai getting out of a taxi at night. I’ve been ripped off five quid!
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Euufff. That’s the sound of having just had my first tough week in China after 3 exhilarating ones. I suppose the honeymoon with the kids wears off eventually, perhaps the big hairy laowai novelty that has veiled my ineptitude thusfar won’t last forever. One particularly wet Wednesday, 8 x 40 minute periods and 10 hours in total spent at the school will cause sweat-soaked Nam-style flashbacks for years to come. The kids weren’t allowed out into the pouring rain for their morning exercise or break-times, so they were confined in their classroom for the 12 hour duration of the schoolday. They were absolutely seething with aimless energy, fighting, shouting, chasing, playing with toys, throwing putty, smearing eachother with chalk, all-the-while the great white baboon was standing shell-shocked in the centre vainly trying to catch their attention… Apocalypse Now.
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