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Showing posts from November, 2017

I am not a gold-brick

When my director took a walk with us around the campus where I work, he asked me if I had taught everything that I knew to my students, obviously doubting my loyalty to my job. I did not answer him directly, but drew his attention to himself by asking him how he, as a child, loved the food cooked by his own mother. He said "Very much" without any hesitation. I continued to ask him if he had ever complained about the home-made dishes with requests for a king's cuisine. He said "No" smilingly, seemingly guessing my plan. I explained that was my case. If my students had asked me for a king's service without a king-sized pay, there was nothing more than normal teaching that I could supply them with. The same kind of story had happened again when a friend of mine grumbled about my meanness. He complained that I seldom treated him. I, as a return, asked him why he had never remitted some money to me but a net friend, with whom he was together for no more than s

The two encounters with Nicolas Sarkozy

On one morning September in 1995, I walked with Mom and Himmel, looking for a travel agent along the pavement before Meridian Gate of Forbidden Palace in Beijing. All of a sudden, I saw Nicolas Sarkozy walking along nearby with a handful of bodyguards surrounded. I told my mother to check quickly. Then I shouted at my brother, since he had left us far behind after a small quarrel about our journey. "Himmel, Klima sah!" On the moment, Mr. Sarkozy noticed us and turned around to stop me with a hey, smiling like Mona Lisa. Without any hesitation, he began with one question and another. "Est-ce que tu parles Français?" "Un peu" I said, thanks to my curiosity about languages since junior high school. "Do you speak English?" "Yes, it is going to be my major in college in four years." I answered proudly. "Do you like French?" "Yes, I do. That is why I can speak a little." "What is your name?" "Duh

The two encounters with Nicolas Sarkozy

In September in 1995, I walked with Mom and Himmel one morning, looking for a travel agent along the pavement before Meridian Gate of Forbidden Palace in Beijing. All of a sudden, I saw Nicolas Sarkozy walking along nearby with a handful of bodyguards surrrounded. I told my mother to check quickly. Then I shouted at my brother, since he had left us far behind after a small quarel about our journey. "Himmel, Klima sah!" On the moment, Mr. Sarkozy noticed us and turned around to stop me with a hey, smiling like Mona Lisa. Without any hesitation, he began with one question and another. "Est-ce que tu parles Français?" "Un peu" I said, thanks to my curiosity about languages since junior high school "Do you speak English?" "Yes, it is going to be my major in college in four years." I answered proudly. "Do you like French?" "Yes, I do. That is why I can speak a little." "What is your name?" "Duhsch-Kufu

Why I am a weirdo

I have always felt like a foreigner who scrapes along hardly with the people that I do not like all my life living in China. It is parties that trouble me so much that I can not escape from being eccentric, especially the ones either for the wedding of one's families and for the first month of a newborn babies. Actually, almost all Chinese parties are not free at all. Traditionally, guests at party are encouraged to "eat more", the platitude that are repeated by hosts as a sign of hospitality; however, not all of the invited are happy to hear the encouragement, because they might fail to give a party of their own. If they do not have a chance to win their money back, they would lose money. After a party, guests are expected to leave a certain mount of money to the host as investment. The host must write down each sum so that he could pay it back whenever they are invited. It is the investment, or exchange of money, that get Chinese people "united". Due to the

The Unforgettable hurt on me

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The revenges of the old on the young in China

China boasts of  being an ancient country and civilized state, with a tradition that old people have precedence over young people in public transit. Distasting the convention, most young people are fond of seats in the back of a bus, so that they need not resign their seats to old passengers. And the old travelers, familiar of the political slogan, are habitually to find seats in the back whenever a front one is not available in the front. A few stories had mushroomed after a teenager refused to give up his or hers. At 4:30 on 9th September 2014, in Zhengzhou, in a 919 bus to Central Plain Road, after four slaps onto a boy, an old man dropped dead due to a heart attack at Qinling Road intersection. On the evening of 6th June 2017, in Changzhou, in a 43 bus, an 70 years old man forced to kiss a 10 years old girl. On 18th September 2015, in an elevator, an old woman forced to kiss a schoolboy for nothing. These scandals have definitely ruined the efforts of the Chinese Communist Party, w