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Archive for January, 2012

A rare excursion

The beach. We went. I promise this is news.

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french conversation

My french teacher persuaded me to go to conversation classes for a month. Oh there’ll be four or five of us she said. There were three; her,me and a really good french speaker.

It made me realise I’ve done a Neville* (Chamberlain that is). My exam isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.

* My slang not cockney rhyming slang…

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The Splendid Ningxia song and dance troupe

That’s what they were called, not that I didn’t think they were splendid, well, they were quite good. I had hoped that they name might be related to some western corruption of  the word Ninja* and that they’d come on in tight black body suits, leap around the stage, whirl their swords and break bricks with their head. Alas, it was not to be.

The first number ‘ the Red Lantern’ had sweet girls in silk pyjamas, running on tiptoes around the stage, twirling lanterns and smiling gaily. I think I might have been alone in finding it rather sinister. Isn’t China great?! It was  – trademark please -‘tourism porn’.

Wolf Totem, the boys number won ten out of ten for effort  – best camp impression I’ve seen in a long time. I was particular mesmerised by the guy with the justin beiber haircut. He could dance, but unfortunately, his hair took centre stage.

Then there was the Chinese lady compere – stunning in a ball gown and maybe tragically mislead; I think she may
have thought she had the Miss World gig, or an audience 100 times the size it was.  Boy, could she project. That she later powerfully belted out a number or two of her own, explained a lot.

I shouldn’t mock though. This was a performance to mark the Chinese New Year and a cultural exchange between Seychelles and China that meant it cost the other one and I a quid each to see. And I can’t remember the last time we’d seen anything at the theatre. Plus, guys dancing, fantastic really. And there some great moments; the girls juggling tables and massive vases with their feet and riding monocycles and kicking and catching bowls on their head and the golden kettle dance.

I think you’ll believe me when I say – it had to be seen to be believed.

* I wasn’t even thinking of the right country. A ninja (忍者?) or shinobi (忍び?) was a covert agent or mercenary of feudal Japan (wikipedia)

** Pictures from the The Nation (Seychelles). Thank you.

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Minxed

Don't be fooled, she's a tiger

Being able to control a roomful of  nine year-olds – not many people can do that, and the other one is very good at it. The problem is, it’s gone to his head, he’s got some God like complex thinking everything bends to his will, including the animal kingdom, Minx our cat of course having remembered his reprimand from six months earlier not to bring us any presents. Course she did. Needless to say, he wasn’t very godlike when minx deposited a dead rat at my feet. He wasn’t even remotely Dr Doolittle. Me, I was like David, I got my dustpan (long handled admittedly) and brush, and pushed the not yet stiff body onto the pan and scurried out into the garden and threw it.

NOT.VERY.FAR. I was like David. Still s**t at throwing then.

We’re both bloody useless.

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new newbies

I was looking for a matching picture and saw this. I love my hometown.

Like the passing of the seasons (as far as I can remember, we just get sunny + rain and cloudy +more rain), teachers come and teachers go. So some went before Christmas and some arrived and seeing as though we did naff all over the holidays, we thought we best make the effort. We didn’t go overboard you understand, I didn’t actually have to leave the house. A couple of the new guys came over – who I am happy to report are Social Seychellers – and we had beers and chatted about the island, and what a great place it is to live. And then I got drunk and told them the truth…I kid…I do really.

One of them was yet another south east London refugee so this tells you something. By god, there must be a case for twinning.

Victoria, Seychelles twinned with Thornton Heath,Croydon. 

Actually, no.

Victoria, Seychelles twinned with Purley Way ,Croydon [home to Sainsbury’s, B&Q and Ikea]

There’s got to be something in it for Seychelles, come on.

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Incroyable!

To the shock of everyone, most of all myself, I passed my French exam! More than that, I scored my highest mark for my conversation. WHAT IS GOING ON?

What next? Salma Hayek being given the French Legion of Honour?

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Resolutions…

Only the one.

Get off my (increasingly) fat, lardy ass.

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New Year…

Another quiet one. This time round ours, we had a friend leaving the island whose meal we’d been to the night before, and she came round with a few others for some food and drinks. They departed for the airport to wave her off and a couple returned, for some bubbly and the crappest countdown ever. The other one being all techno gadget with it (for the Shells) set the countdown on our laptop and realising it was close to midnight went to check the time.

’24 seconds’ he shouted. Which was just about time to fill my glass at least. Happy New Year!

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Lazy days…

I had the whole time from Christmas to New Year off. The weather was overcast and rainy, so despite our resolutions to get down to the beach (it’d been weeks), we ended up in most of the time and I spent the time writing while the other one played guitar and we steadily ate through the Christmas treats we’d bought.

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Christmas…

With none of the build up that we’re used to in the UK and certainly not the weather, it seemed that Christmas was suddenly upon us. From having lots of different ideas for what we’d do, in the event we didn’t do very much. On Christmas Eve, we went round to friends and on Christmas Day, having been to the beach last year, we opted to stay in, cooking up a feast and we hoped, watching lots of Christmas telly. The telly was crap, really crap and the best bit about our Christmas meal was our pudding, which was sent in a parcel from the other one’s mum, full of goodies and filling us with Christmas cheer. I must have really stumped the other one as the first present I opened was a hand blender. I hadn’t set my expectations that low. Then again, since our last one broke, I have to admit I rather missed it. The pressies got better, I got a gorgeous necklace and yup, DVDs too. The other one liked his squash racket, promised me he’d wear the goggles (I doubt it but what better gift than that of an intact eyesight,I ask you?!) and socks, and for the first time ever, liked the clothes that I’d bought him. A relationship first – and they fit him too – bonus! Our mums rang to wish us Merry Christmas and the day ended with a Bailey’s and me struggling to get off the sofa. Happy Days.

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