Charming David Beckham Gracing the Chinese Supermarkets

Five months into 2013, I have been to China on business twice, when I accompanied two UK companies to various cities in the south and southeast of the Asian giant. While one of my corporate clients has already established a steady, on-going business in the Far East, with a chain of suppliers from Mainland China, Hong Kong and beyond, the other is a keen, enthusiastic company who is determined to penetrate the Chinese market, taking its already successful business to a new, international level.

Chinese workers making Costume Jewellery for western consumers

It seems to me that many western corporations, big or small, are gripped by the desire to explore the seemingly endless opportunities in this vast land, and perhaps it’s no exaggeration to say that in order for any western businesses to remain competitive in the 21st century, they will have to look East. The tides have indeed changed.

An Open Market, Everyone Welcome!

Who would have thought? A quarter of a century ago when I headed West, the West is where everyone wanted to be, at least, for many highly educated Chinese like myself, and a western degree or a green card was something to die for – how many people actually died in their quest to migrate to the the more developed western countries? I am not sure if there are any such statistics available but it would be interesting to know for sure. I have shed light on some of the bitter sweet stories of immigrants in my own “Journey to the West” trilogy, especially in Land of Hope.

Hope for all, or just for some?

Land of Hope, book three in my tale of trials and tribulations in modern times, refers to no other than the United Kingdom, and one can easily extend that notion to all developed countries. Would it remain so in the 21st century and for how long? With the ever-dwindling of public services and further cuts on the welfare system, not to mention the increasing tightening up of the immigration policy, would the future economic migrants head west still, risk their lives and all, or is that whirlwind already on halt and in fact no longer the trend.

Border crossing from Shenzhen to Hong Kong

Perhaps I am not in the best position to pass judgements on the politicians’ voter-appeal policies, nor the most qualified to do so. After all, I have left academia long ago, before I made much headway. However, in my capacity as a professional interpreter, I have been equipped with some kind of an insider knowledge. Barely two years ago, I had been fully occupied in helping the UK Police, courts and Immigration, and once in a while, I had witnessed the rather lame attempt to discourage and deport illegal immigrants. Then all of a sudden, my language skills became redundant – the government decided to undermine a whole bunch of linguists and outsource highly skilled work to exploiting agencies; in the process losing many of the best professionals in the field. Perhaps that is just another way for the government to turn away highly skilled work force and to make the UK an undesirable destination for future migrants. If so, it’s a job well done. I have seen colleagues changing careers and quite a few relocating to Hong Kong, China or elsewhere.

Thank God that my language skills can still be of use – with Claire, James and Mark – TEAM GB

What would the world be like in twenty, fifty or 100 years time? Would we still have a huge divide between the East and the West, or would that gap be closing, just like the ocean plates, forever shifting and changing, separating one continent from another? What kind of a world our future generations will inherit from us? I could not help but wondering, in my jet-lagged, sleep-deprived, utterly exhausted mind.

Red Flag – An exclusive car in which sat Chairman Mao and President Nixon now on display at Hangzhou Airport

(Written at 5am Beijing Time, 10pm GMT, in Shangrila Hotel by the West Lake, Hangzhou – do come back next week when I shall share a more light-hearted post for you to enjoy )

China Welcomes You !

Ever taken a bus in England?

A week passed. We did not see that much of Julie; her bus driving schedule either started early or finished late.

“James, I think we’d better talk to Julie about this, whether she did it or not. If she did, then she’ll probably stop when she knows that we know.” I reasoned with James, after my purse went missing the night before. After searching the whole house, James eventually found it stuffed under the sofa, with £50 cash gone but otherwise intact.

“Julie,” James raised the matter with her that evening. “We’re not sure who took the money, and we’re not saying that it’s you. But it’s happened, and we’re very concerned.”

“I certainly didn’t take it, but I’m not sure of Hugh though. All I can say is that I’ll keep an eye on him when he’s around next.” She looked calm, no sign of a guilty party.

That afternoon, James went to town and bought a safe.

***

Bacelona Familia Sagrada

Our wedding anniversary came. James and I flew to Barcelona for a weekend to celebrate. My brother-in-law Joe agreed to ‘baby-sit’ our son, even though Tom, at 15, would be perfectly happy to look after himself.

On landing at Luton Airport on Monday morning, I drove back alone – James flew to Belfast for a job interview. When I arrived home, our lodger was sitting in the kitchen with her tea.

“Tom had his mates over and made a lot of noise in the house.” She began, no polite enquiry about my holiday. Instead, she showed me her two new mobile phones. “I can use the other one to call my parents. They live in Spain.”

Yes, she had mentioned before that she had no family left in the UK.

Is that your phone?

Two hours later, Tom returned from school.

“Uncle Joe could not find his mobile phone this morning. He left it in the lounge last night. We have looked everywhere.” He reported.

Julie immediately came to my mind, and the Chinese cover story of “There is no gold here”, when she proudly showed me ‘her’ two phones.

When James returned that evening, he was outraged: “She can’t stay here any longer.”

“Let’s talk to her first.” I went to knock on her door, still hoping that she hadn’t stolen from us.

No answer. I knocked again, louder.

“What do you want?” She opened the door and barked, loud and aggressive. I took a step back, her face furious and only inches to mine; her big frame appeared ready to jump on me and tear me to pieces. Until that moment, we had been civil towards each other.

She continued to throw abuse at me, until James came upstairs and intervened. “If you weren’t here, we wouldn’t have to suspect you, would we?”

***

CD Collections

Guard dog James slept downstairs that night. Julie ‘the lodger from hell’ moved out the next morning. She left without paying her last week’s rent and took our keys with her. Some of our CDs and other items disappeared with her too. She left without Big Hugh to hump her stuff this time, her clothes still intact in the polythene bags.

A letter from her previous address arrived. It turned out that she had lived only a few streets away, on the other side of the A6. Her previous landlord called us back, after James’s note through his door. Mr. King was a young teacher who had suffered Julie as a lodger for three weeks, like us.

“I found my wallet gone within days, then my mobile phone and other stuff. I became so worried that I started to move valuable things to my mother’s house. I eventually plucked up courage to ask her to leave.” Mr. King said to James.

We contacted the police and reported what happened.

“You have not caught her stealing in the act. We cannot do anything. That’s the law.”

“Do you mean that people like Julie will be allowed to carry on, going to people’s houses and stealing from them?” I asked, incredulous.

“I’m afraid so. Our hands are tied.” The Policeman shrugged his shoulders.

The last thing we received from Julie was a threatening letter.

I know you have contacted Mr. O’Neill, my referee, and I have your letter as evidence. I’m going to seek legal advice, and sue you for blackening my name. Unless you pay me compensation, I shall withhold your keys.

The letter bore exactly the same handwriting as on the reference, supposedly written by a Mr O’Neill.

Home, Sweet Home

“Sally, it’s for you.” James was holding the phone, as I came out of the kitchen.

“Who is it?” I asked, reaching for the handset.

“I don’t know. A woman,” He said. That was helpful, I thought.

“Hello, my name Julie Knowles, and I’d like to rent your room. I saw it in the Post Office window. Can I come and view it tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sure.”

***

It had been a year since I become involuntarily unemployed. Then out of the blue, James was made redundant. Trying times.

“Why don’t we make use of our resources and start a home-based business venture?” I said to James, having been toiling with the idea for a while. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense, but what?

Taking a look at my CV for the umpteenth time, all I could see was that the most ideally suited job had failed me, and the dire, ever-worsening economic depression did nothing to help. “You’re overqualified” felt like a constant, bloody slap on the face.

***

I joined a short training course provided by the local Job Centre, and wrote a business plan. “Let us advertise for a lodger. It would give us a little income.” I needed to persuade James.

His response was exactly what I had expected: “It’s not worth the hassle.” 

Time and increasing financial pressure proved the best persuasion. He typed out a short advert and shortly after it appeared on the window of the Post Office.

Room to let

Double bedroom in modern, warm and well-equipped family house. Room only – £50 per week or half-board – £80 per week. Non – smokers preferred. References required. Telephone Sally on 0161 293 5432 .

****

“You’ve got a nice house,” Julie commented.

“Thank you,” I smiled, “We like it here. Where do you live now?” I asked.

“Not far from here.” Short answer.

“How long have you stayed there?” I showed her the spacious kitchen.

“About a month” was her reply.

“Why do you want to move?” Curiosity crept in my voice.

“Oh, I had something stolen from the house. You know, some cash. My camera disappeared. You know, pictures which have sentimental value to me…”

“Oh, I am so sorry,” Geniune sympathy filled in my reply. “I’d lost a camera once myself.” It touched a nerve when I remembered my train journey through the South of France and the sudden, mysterious disapperance of my treasured camera.

***

“So what do you think, James?” I asked when she’d gone.

“Well, she seemed mature. I used to work as a bus conductor during university holidays. A non-smoker, and at 42, she’ll probably be low maintenance.” He replied, slowly coming around to the reality of having to tolerate a stranger in the house.

I laughed, “When she first came into the house with her uniform, I thought she was a policewoman.”

“I can see why. She did look a bit butch, burly with those awful dark-rim glasses. Anyway, we’ll see how it goes.” James turned back to his football match – the Owls were losing to its arch rival the United.

***

Burly Julie moved in the very next day, her clothes neatly packed in polythene bags, with the help of her even burlier boyfriend. “Hugh is a builder and is going through divorce,” Julie volunteered the information.

“Can we have your reference, please?” James asked.

“Of course,” she handed him a hand-written piece of paper. “Mr. O’Neill is an Education Officer at the Thameside Council.” She added with pride.

“I’m sorry but I can’t afford deposit,” she continued. “My salary as a trainee bus driver is not much.”

The day before we had agreed on a deposit for one week’s rent. I was put on the spot; throwing her out seemed not an option. “In that case, you can give us this week’s rent,” I conceded.

I showed Julie her cupboard in the kitchen and her personal fridge, which I had emptied for her. She had opted for cooking for herself.

“Better than the last place. The landlord was mean;” Julie commented.

“That’s a shame. What did he do? ” I asked.

“He’s a retired teacher. A strange old man, I must say,” she went on, chatty. “I am from Huddersfield. I’ve moved here to be closer to my boyfriend.”

No kidding. Big Hugh was often around and stayed over, moaning sounds mixed with the bed creaking noise, sending shocking waves across the house, up and down, like minor, yet continuous earthquakes.

“They’re treating this house like a knocking shop,” James observed, with more than a trace of displeasure.

Where the Story Started and Ended

(End of Part One – Part Two to be published on the 20th May 2013)

Most up-to-date paperback cover

Don’t judge a book by its cover.

I am not sure which wise man or woman first made that statement, but how many of us DO judge a book by its cover?

To be honest, it was not a question I ponder too much on when I choose a book, as a reader, not consciously anyway. Before the days of Kindle and e-books, I used to go to a book store and browse the books on the display stands or the shelves. Sometimes a cover did stand out and I would pick it up. Whether I decided to buy it or not, in the end, it was the first lines of the “blurb” on the back jacket – if it said something to me about the story, or the setting, or if it was from an author whose work I was already familiar with, then I would happily hand over my money and take it home.

Since I became an Indie author and published my own three books, the book covers have become a different animal. All of a sudden, I faced the challenge of deciding on a cover before I could actually publish the book which I had spent years writing!

An Earlier Version for The Same Moon

It took me about three goes to finally settle for the current cover of The Same Moon,   with which I am delighted. I think many of my readers would agree that Yongqun Guo’s original painting of the beautiful Yellow Mountain was a perfect choice, and I could not be happier with it!

The Beautiful Yellow Mountain by Yongqun Guo

Even so, don’t expect it to come out perfect when you order your printed copy – right now I have several copies with my name spilling over the spine, and another with part of the Chinese characters disappearing into abyss – I had to spend more hours measuring the front, the back, and the spine, and eventually I’ll get there, and perhaps seeking a vacancy as a book cover artist !

Oh yeah, read from the side & see J on the spine

When my third book Land of Hope came along, I seemed to be getting the hang of what would make a good cover, and I picked another painting from my favourite artist – all I had to do, was to get a little technical help from fellow author Eri  a wonderful cover was born – first with an English title, then finalised with a bilingual touch. Again I couldn’t be happier with the final product.

Paperback Front Cover

My post today, however, will focus on the book cover of my second book, Trials of Life. It had been a book which took me the shortest time to write, and all the feelings in there were raw and genuine. I had some trouble in designing a cover of which I could honestly say: this is it!

Two years ago when I rushed out this book, shortly after publishing The Same Moon, I struggled to match one of Yongqun’s painting with the title . Let’s face it, Trials of Life, may not be an easy image to call to mind when someone thinks of trials and tribulations in one’s life. So my very first choice was a boat in the sea – I loved all paintings by Younqun, and the raging waves threatening the small boat seemed a pretty good choice at the time. I asked help from someone I knew who had more technical ability and could use Photoshop – so my first cover with title and author name was born.

The First e-Book Cover

Very quickly the problem appeared – the painting did not quite look like a book cover, so size does matter – for an e-book, perhaps it was no big deal, or so I thought .

Second e-Book Cover

The second version came not long after, when I opted for another of Yongqun’s original masterpieces – this time it was a village scene with trees as old as many civilisations, and perhaps even older – would that speak of Trials of Life? In my view, it certainly did.

The only problem? The dark background may appear to have a mystery feel, but bluring the title somehow, especially after I added the Chinese characters. Even if you read Chinese, you probably struggle to see them clearly

Recently, having turned both my 1st and 3rd book into good-looking paperbacks, I turned my attention to this troubled ‘middle child’ – Trials of Life suffers from that syndrome. Was it the content, due to its quick and easy ‘birth’, or the cover, or something else, perhaps the title?

“Perhaps the title is a problem,” John said. “Who is going to read a book called ‘Trials of Life’, and what does it mean exactly?”

Exactly! If you have read it, you would know exactly what it means and more. I know it heart and soul, because when I was writing it, the title came to me, and I never even paused for a moment to think if it will sell and who will read it. It was just a book I had to write!

Would I change that title now, so I can sell more copies? I don’t think so. It is fixed! However, I have spent months re-reading it, editing and rewriting many parts to make it a better book, and by the time I finish this round of editing, it will be a book which I can leave alone, and start my new project – there are other books to be written, and it will be time, when “Trials of Life” comes out as a paperback, completing my trilogy, and standing proudly between the other two on my shelves and those of my readers!

So here I am, doing the final push for this ‘baby’ of mine, with a brand-new book cover waiting in the wings. I am so blessed with my artist friend Yongqun sort of giving me permission to make use of any of her paintings, which possess such beauty and variety.

Potential New paperback cover in the making

Please comment on my final choice of the cover above – it is still in the design stage, and hopefully with comments from readers and supportive friends of mine, I will have a real winner this time. If all goes well, the new version of Trials of Life will be out in print this summer – I, for one, cannot wait, can you ?

Do any of you fellow authors share my frustration and joy in this publishing process? I’d love to hear from you.

Birdnest in Papaya 木瓜炖燕窝

Have you ever visited this wonderful Chinese city in the south, known as the ‘Flower City’? Don’t worry if you have not, or your knowledge about China is limited to Beijing and Shanghai. By the end of this post, you would have added one more Chinese gem in your future China tour, provided that you carry on reading now and I get you tempted

My very first visit to this fabulous city dates back to 1984, en-route from another Southern city of Xiamen. I had an university mate, Gene, who hailed from that part of China and was working as an interpreter then (He is now a successful businessman in Melbourne). I remember visiting his home in Guangzhou, when he showed me around the city, which in the middle of 1980s, was far more developed than the other parts of China, due to its close proximity to Hong Kong and the special economic zone status she enjoyed following Deng Xiaoping’s open door policy. Years later, I can still hear the Teresa Deng‘s sweet songs on video which Gene played for me.

Visiting Gene and his family in Melbourne, Australia in 2001

My second, third and fourth visit to Guangzhou happened this year in January and February. I flew in from Hong Kong for a day for business, then followed by a more leisurely stay with Milin, the young lady who is working in Guangdong TV station, who interviewed me for a programme last August and which aired earlier this year (My First TV Appearance on Guangdong English Programme Facetime).

Treats before Karaoke – Milin with her friends

For a few days, I tagged along Milin, experiencing what it is like to be working for a state-owned TV station. As it was near the Chinese New Year, plenty of eating and celebration was involved. According to my hostess, “It’s actually much better when it comes to the frequency of banqueting, especially on public money, due to the restrictive current policy from the new leaders.”

Delicious Treats from Chaozhou 潮州小吃

No kidding! I was out for every lunch and dinner with Milin, and sampled a great variety of the food that Guangzhou is famed for – by the way, even if you’ve never been to China, you would have heard about Cantonese food. Canton is Guangzhou, if you are wondering.

crispy baby pigeon

plater of small treats

delightful fresh seafood

The first night in Guangzhou, Milin took me to a karaoke place before belting out Canton pop and more Teresa Deng, I indulged in the biggest buffet I have seen. There must have been well over 100 dishes to choose from, and I wished that I had a bigger appetite!

Cantonese Buffet, one of many plates I had

Follow up treats from Milin were too many to name too, from various small treats from Chaozhou to crispy baby pigeons, not to mention the numerous fresh seafoods on offer, and keeping-you-forever-young, nutritious birdnest in papaya. I even enjoyed an amazingly authentic Italian meal in one of the best eateries in Guangzhou, when I was ‘dragged’ along to Milin’s business-cum-pleasure meeting with an Indian Consulate.

Italian Starter

Pizza – I could be in Italy

second plate

Yummy Desert

All this feasting was so tiring so what better relaxation than a full body Thai massage? In between two full- on feasts, I luxuriated in a 4-hour beauty treatment from head to toe, making me unwilling to leave.

What a pampering & well deserved

No, that’s not the end of it either. On the final day of my 3rd visit, another friend Kevin came to see me from Shenzhen. “We’ll go for a dim sum before your flight,” he kindly insisted.

Busy dim sum place in Canton – no, it was not a wedding

What could I possibly do, except going on to consume as many delicacies as I was able to? Look at the pictures below and tell me honestly that you are not tempted

Heavenly Cantonese Dim Sums

I shall conclude my post with more pictures I took on my very brief fourth visit, en-route back to Hong Kong, via Guangzhou, Shenzhen and Hong Kong. It was a beautiful evening, with the sun setting over the fabulous Pearl River.

City of Flowers

and Beautiful Sunset on Pearl River

Hope you have enjoyed my virtual tour to Guangzhou, without much detail about its many sights and sounds. Maybe you”ll one day visit and see them for yourself!

“Excuse me,” I said to John, who was watching TV on the couch sitting next to me. I had to reach over him to get to a tissue box for my tears.

No, I wasn’t watching a sad movie, although nine o’clock in the evening has been my usual routine. Instead I was engrossed with The Skin of Water – I have come to the last part of the story.

Wiping the salty waters from my eyes, I said to my husband: “You should read this book, John. It’s one of the best books I have read by an Indie author.”

No doubt, it is one of the most engaging books I have come across in a long time. In my vivarious appetite for written words, I sample a lot of works by Indie authors and I regularly feature them on my blog and post my reviews if they are worthy. It is, however, not often that I would recommend a book to my husband, before I even finish reading it.

The Skin of Water, a beautifully told romance between an elegant, enchanting French woman and a young, handsome Hungarian youth, whose passionate affair will set your heart on fire. Despite their age difference, and the fact that she was married to an incredibly wealthy and influential industrialist, the illicit affair between Catherine and Zeno began and blossomed, transcending the boundaries of their many differences includimng that of class. However, their fate was sealed by the times they lived in, an unforgettable historical period when Germany was at war with the best part of Europe, and Hungary, where the story was set, was no exception.

I loved revisiting Hungary through the pages. I went to Budapest one winter, to celebrate the New Year, coincidently with my German boyfriend at the time and his friends. I felt her wintry chill, although I very much enjoyed her amazing sights, on both Buda and Pest. It has been a wonderful experience for me personally to follow Zeno through his lenses, with the entrancing historical backdrop, and heart-tugging romance between the two protagonists.

Author Profile from GoodReads

G.S. Johnston did a brilliant job bringing these characters alive, flesh and blood, their stories tantalising and exquisite, their uncertain future intrinsically linked to that of a nation and of many nations, in fact.

The author expertly built in an intrigue, which drew me in immediately, leading me along to an eventual climax of events which had me in eager anticipation and great expectation, although I did not know what exactly to expect. I was in for the ride, wherever that may take me.

This is story-telling at its very best – it has kept my attention all the way. There are books which have a fantastic start but eventually fall short of readers’ expectations, and others take forever to get to the point and many readers simply give up half way. For me, The Skin of Water is a wonderful read from beginning to end, my interest never sagging for a moment. I could not wait to get to the final pages and when it eventually did, I wish there were more.

Would I recommend this book? You bet I would, without hesitation. I hope that you would not hesitate in indulging your senses in this amazing book, savouring its sheer beauty of words, characters and stories of another time, a time which we should be reminded of often and etched in our memories forever.

Excellent job, Mr G.S. Johnston – I look forward to reading your other book set in Hong Kong !

I am featuring The Skin of Water as my Book of the Month in May 2013.

My final note is to Malika Bourne, who recommended this book to me – thank you, my friend, for bringing this little gem to my attention and enriching my reading life!