Wednesday, 10 October 2007

Illegitimi non carborundum?

Right. I’ve been nice. I’ve done my best. I’ve tried. I’m not int mood to be nice anymore. Today I am eev-il Soupy, like fru-its of the dev-il. I’ve had enough. I’m not putting up wi’ it.

In a word: students.

Example A:
Four year old brat who finds it funny to bite me on the hand. Lucky I have my Tetanus jab up to date, isn’t it? And when I snap and shout “NO!” at him, I get his mother complaining because I frightened the little fucker. Excuse me? To whom do I complain that the wee carnivorous shit has bitten me? Are kids allowed to bite teachers now? And I’m not talking the nip on the arse that wee Jack used to do for fun, like a puppy and its favourite slipper. No, I’m talking proper teeth on bone, intentional-pain biting. So I’ve shouted at him, he’s ran out the classroom wailing, and I’ve felt much more relaxed. Until the complaint.

Riiiiiiight. I want to complain then. No wait, I just never want to see the fucking annoying little goit again, seeing as he’s about as stable as a yo-yo and spends all his time squealing like a stuck pig because someone’s accidentally touched his elbow. Which is because he’s already sprawled over the table like it’s all too much. Well screw him, and screw the whole fucking system. I’m sick of it. I swear to any gods and any of their brothers, if one more kid slaps, bites or kicks me “for fun”, I shall punt them through the plate glass window. Let’s see how funny it is with my foot up their arse, shall we?

Example B:
A rather rotund student comes in, and has been one of mine for a while. She sits down and her mother waves at her through the window as usual. We start the lesson. Halfway through, the admin. assistant knocks on the door and asks if I’ve two minutes just to explain the last report for the mam. As the kids are int middle of a grammar exercise, I leave ‘em to it and go to talk to her. Her English is ok and we discuss how to help Little Rotund One in between lessons. I go back int lesson, finish it, and everything’s fine. When Little Rotund One comes back the following week, she says (and I quote): “My mother say you is very nice for such a fat girl.”

Now, far be it for me to go on about sizes in Hong Kong, but let’s start with manners, shall we? Normally I shrug off these comments – yeah, a five foot eight bird weighing twelve stone must be a shock to anorexic normal’ sized birds in Hong Kong, and I’m used to clumsy translations where people are rude when they don’t mean to be. What gets at me is the way this mother’s kid – who let’s face it, could do wi’ a diet far more than I could – has seen fit to voice these comments to her kid int first place. So instead of the usual sarcastic ‘thank you’ that I trot out, I instead went for the barbed alternative:
“That’s because fat people actually take the time to develop a pleasant and interesting personality, where as thin people in this town tend to be shallow and obnoxious with no manners. I know which one will have more friends.”

Yeah, ok, so I had to bite my tongue after that cos I felt really rude coming out with this to a bunch of twelve-year-olds, but please, let me off. If one more kid tells me I’m the fattest person they’ve seen in their life, I’ll go home and watch TV instead of wasting my time trying to teach ‘em proper bloody social behaviour and conversation skills.

It’s not the comment about being fat that annoys me. It’s actually the lack of manners. I am staggered at just how bald-faced some people can be about how they treat people in Hong Kong. I know it’s the same all over, but sometimes I feel like I’m the only one teaching kids to say ‘thank you’ and ‘excuse me’ to squeeze through the crowd of people on an MTR platform, rather than just barging through like no-one else exists.

You know what? Fuck it.

Maybe I should start barging into people, stepping on other people’s feet at every opportunity, and pushing people out of my way. It’s my turn.

I’m off now to mix about 90% vodka wi’ 10% orange juice.
And watch gratuitous amounts of ‘Psych’ and ‘Supernatural’ till I feel better.

Summat tells me a combination of James Roday and Jensen Ackles will make me feel so much better… Dean Winchester in a big car wi’ a big gun? That’s girlie porn, that is…

And then there’s always this piece of uplifting news to, er, uplift me.

Soopytwist. No bugger’s getting peach nor lube tonight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Anonymous said...

Surely you've been in Hong Kong long enough to know that people calling you "fat" is not always an insult.

Many times I have been asked by colleagues why I am so fat. It sounds bad, but they don't mean it that way.

I've always wanted to answer with the question "why are your tits so small?"

Soupdragon said...

I know they don't mean to be rude, it just comes out wrong...
Still feels better to get it off me chest.

And speaking of chests, I do sometimes grin in the knowledge that, yes, she may be thinner than me, but I can diet and I'll STILL be a 36C.




You could dance to 'Fatty Reggae' wi me but you'll need a fair few stone to catch me up.

Mind you I've lost a few pounds I think. Saw me feet the other day...

Disadvantage to being skinny. If the wind blows I've got to keep hold of Caz or she'd be gone...

Camera Obscura said...

Medical staff said the patient had made a full recovery, and the hangover had worn off by the time he woke up.

Only in Australia... would they worry about the hangover of a man they've saved from antifreeze poisoning.

Soupdragon said...

Ans that's another thing - barge into me while waiting at traffic lights, and I'm not the one bouncing off and trying to not fall over.

I loved the way they were worried about his hangover, LOL
Cos obviously that's the most important thing....

Aussies, eh? Lovely people. Have their priorities right.


weenie said...

Oh hello - I was reading about the fat comments and then that last picture took me by surprise - niiiiice! :-)

Anyway, tis a HK cultural thing. I remember when I first came across it (aimed at a relative of mine) and was shocked but you know in some cases, it's actually meant as a term of endearment, particularly with children!

And yeah, Hong Kong people do seem pretty rude and lacking in manners, especially when you're used polite Brits.

I'm surprised you've restrained yourself after all this time - if I were living there, I'd be barging and queue jumping with the rest of them!

I may get practising as have a visit planned next month!

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