Poagao's Journal

Absolutely Not Your Monkey

Apr 09 2003

It was raining, and I was going to be late for the…

It was raining, and I was going to be late for the radio interview, so I took a cab. I told the cabbie the address, but he couldn’t find it, so I told him it was the Hansheng Radio Station; he knew exactly where that was. “I listen to the old Chinese songs on there all the time!” he said.

My host, aka “Bimuyu”, was waiting outside. A young woman with dyed hair, she seemed disappointed to learn that I’d been out of the military for a number of years already. Apparently she thought I’d just gotten out. She was also worried that I was a morose bastard who would ruin her show with excruciatingly long silences and a lot of “Uh……I dunno”-type answers. “By the way, welcome back to base,” she said as we passed the guard station. Hansheng is run by the military, thus their interest in my book I guess. Bimuyu isn’t a soldier herself, but she said she got a lot of ribbing from the employees who were in the military. The offices were almost empty save for a couple of lucky conscript soldiers carrying out important Instant Noodle-related missions. Bimuyu went in to the studio first and then called me in when it was time for the show to begin. We began chatting, and before I knew it, the half-hour was up. At one point she laughed at the name of one of the officers I mentioned, and I said “You should talk with a name like Bimuyu!” She just laughed. Most of her questions were good, though. Apparently it went well. I had fun.

Afterwards I was walking across the CKS square when I noticed some familiar vision problems. Uh-oh, I thought. Migraine. A bad one, by the look of things. I stopped off at a small pharmacy and got some Panadol, and then went to a noodle shop for something to down the pills with. The old lady was watching the news about SARS on TV and complaining that no-one came to eat at her restaurant anymore. “Everyone’s afraid! Nobody ever comes here to eat anymore!” she said to me.

“I did,” I said, unable to think of anything else to say. She nodded and went back to her TV news.

My headache got worse on the MRT up to Yuanshan for sword practice. There were some new guys there tonight, and one of them turned out to a an English teacher, a Taiwanese fellow who had apparently spent some time in the states. We chatted a bit, but I’m afraid my conversation wasn’t too stimulating due to the intense pain. I only get these things once every few months, but when they do come they can be pretty bad. I started getting migraines when I was a teenager; my dad gets them too.

Despite the pain, practice wasn’t too bad. I concentrated on some rough edges, and the teacher told me about opposites in concentration vs. movement. By the time practice was over the pain wasn’t quite as bad, but even now I can still feel it. Looking at this screen isn’t helping, either, so I’m going to wrap this one up, turn off the lights and listen to some classical music in the dark.

P.S.: I’ve added a nifty little translate tag on the menu. It looks neat, and who knows, someone might even use it someday.

posted by Poagao at 3:47 pm  

No Comments »

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a comment