It’s rat week!

It all started when I was having dinner with a friend in a restaurant called the “Sahara” since it focalises on Arab cuisine. We were having an OK couscous (which felt real nice; even though YOU couldn’t understand, you being a privileged fat european eating and living in front of your computer) when all of a sudden I hear an uproar of voices echoing from behind. The restaurant wasnt full but there were enough people to make enough noise to catch your attention. So I spin around and notice approximatly two meters away from me two large, fat rats smiling towards my dinner and speaking in my head: “Oy mate! Mind if we tag along and take a bite wit’ ya?”. They must have been the size of my forarm and as hairy as the chin of the goat I used to have (may her life as a doener kebab bring eternal wisdom to her).
So there those rats sat looking jolly surprised to be the center of attention for an evening while in the back one could hear the stampede of the crowd as well as that of the cook with his butcher knife plungeing forward trying to grasp these uninvited guests and swiftly kill them. Not feeling hungry anymore I decided to follow the crowd outside. The restaurant manager came to apologise and closed the restaurant (for the night? for a week or until somebody from chinese hygene shows up to see what happened, which also means never.) So we left without paying. That’s part one.
Part two: While doing my daily routine in the hotel lobby I had to assist to a particular scene that might scar me for some time. It was around 13h00 and the hotel was void of souls. I could hear the background music playing softly in the distant cieling. The receptionnists where quietly typing on their keyboards the daily mountain load of information. I have to admit that I was bored stiff (keep your vicious thoughts to yourself reader. I don’t need to know what stiff thing you have!). When all of a sudden (it’s always very sudden as you might have noticed) I see a black/grey thing sprinting across the drive-by and hide behind a post. Huh? I can’t beleive it! I lean forward against the glass to get a better look. That’s when I see the security guy running towards the hiding place of the poor creature. As it starts sprinting for it’s life the guard starts stomping the ground around it like a drummer for a heavy metal band. I bet he would have done a great job at that too, however fate wanted him to be chinese. The rat runs back and forth with his orchestra making the situation pretty funny during the first two minutes. It’s like Tom and Jerry in real life. However here the rat gets crushed and ends up dying in spasms while thevictorious kicks him around and displays the bounty to his admirative collegues.
Last night in my room just after I turned off the lights I heard in a erratic rythme a sound similar to that of a cat scratching under a door to get in. The sound was however very soft and came from my closet. Rather bodly I stuck my head under my blanket and proceeded to the mosquito technique (read previous articles) and thought happy thoughts.

Petite entorse a la regle du blog englais:

Lauhu bigu mo bu de (prenoncer "La-haut hou pi-gout mot poux deux")

Qui veut dire: "Ne touche pas aux fesses du tigre".

Back down to earth we stumbled and into the airport of Kuala Lumpur (also known as KL. Not to be mistaken for Kowloon, which would be situated in HongKong you ignorant schmuck). This airport is the most modern one I have been given to see up to this date. The terminals are star shaped and well litten with glass walls on all sides. The roof seems to be made of local wood and ressembles that of a tent ondulating its way across the structure. In the center as well as around the building are these huge tropical trees that seem to be sweating water on a nonstop basis reminding travellers that they barely are 100km away from the equator. Inside the terminal is a maglev which brings passengers around to other terminals distributed all around. That way one can “glide” his way from one terminal to another above tree lines and overlooking fields of planes taking off and landing. It’s quite fun and would be a really interesting place to be high on something if only the local law didn’t punish drugs with death penalty.
My flight leaves before that of Marie and so we hang out in various terminals to check them out and have fun on the train. Eventually my plane is due and I am forced to leave behind me this adorable girl. I board again with Malaysia airlines in the identical plane (a Boeing 747) and find myself stuck in a corner next to the window (again. sons of bitches!) surrounded by lound and revolting chinese. “Thats it!” i told myself, “You’re back in this crazy China.” The flight was a little more deceiving than the previous. As if the fact that 85% of the plane being occupied by chinese made it less worthy working. A few smiles and less patience is what I noticed for differences from the staff. And the asian food sucked too!
Anyway here I started to dose off big time into the twilight zone only to be awakened by sudden drops of altitude. On and off I slept during the three full hours and awoke only when we touched ground. Being groggy and all that I stepped out a bit disorented (and jet-lagged. You too would be in this state if you had 15 hours of flight and 3 hours waiting without sleep) to find myself queing the passport zone. Again WELCOME IN CHINA feeling in which you have to pass 3 different check-points before being able to go anywhere. I find my way to the “City Express” and didn’t take a ticket because I didn’t have the cash for it. I’m praying with all my awoken body for the controller to be sick or at home. The train takes off in a quite admirable speed without leaving the ground however. In the seats are small TV’s with various programs such as: weather, transport info, bloomberg ect... Quite nice indeed. This is where I find out that the train is free and that it leads right into the center of HongKong island, the business district. That was sweet since my hotel, as far as I remember, was real near.
Outside I decide to walk to the hotel instead of taking a taxi. Dragging my extra heavy bag behind me I walk through smelly and noisy streets. The double-decker bus zip by in a old and metallic clinking. Dry fish and Ginseng roots are to be seen every 20 meters in small dirty shops and abuse your sense of smell. I start sweating like a fountain. I had totally forgotten about the humidity and temperature, at that moment it was about 14h00 local time and the temperature must have been around the 26°C. And there I am dragging this huge rock of weight with my personal affairs through the ups and down of fucking HK. Suddenly I start looking around and notice that I am lost. To make a long story short I get to the hotel after 50minutes instead of 20. Oh well... I guess the movie Dumb&dumber inspired me too much. I check in, take a shower, open my bag to get some clean clothes and smell the cheese my mom was nice enough to hide in my bag! Now the huge stench has impregnated my whole luggage and I am forced to dress as a huge colorful walking cheese (this is a moment in life where you curse the good intentions of your family). Just for info the cheese turned out to be unedible (I can’t explain. It just tasted like rotten socks) except for the goat cheese whose inside was still OK. A hint for life folks: NEVER take cheese on a long trip and by God never store it next to your clothes!

Update has been late; i apologise but work has been hectic and the hotel is running at full capacity.

Leaving Paris for china (again) was painful but surprisingly i was looking forward to getting my hands back on work. Now that i have a idea of how they function (or so i think) i hope i’ll be able to maneuvre more easily (through this fat wicked stench and anarchy)(“You know you don’t have to read what is in the parenthesis, it’s only my evil Me talking”).
Back to Paris CDG airport: as expected there is a huge line of people at check-in dully waiting their turn as a pack of sheeps of to the barbors who in fact might be a butcher with cruel instincts impatiently waiting to get his fingers on some fresh blood as some evil associate of Ben. This last part was not in parenthesis because I wanted you to read it. Luckily for me I end up waiting alongside a charming (I said charming, not gorgeous note the difference you pathetic web-blog-readers) Belgian girl who seemed all hyped about going to Asia (you might get insulted reading whats inside the parenthesis. Yes! It’s dangerous. Yes we’re still on NoFrag, thats why).
We end up chatting, mostly because of her mother who decided she could not spend the last hour with her doughter without submerging her and her environment with words. My mom of course catches the opportunity to tease these people from the north (she teases anything that moves: adults, children, dogs and horses). The Belgian girl’s name is Marie and at that moment i’m asking the lord what I did to meet soo many Marie’s in such a short span of time. We decide to take seats next to each other so we can at least enjoy french speaking people a last time before falling into the big mess that awaits us.
The flight was from Malaysia Airlines and I must admit that it was comfortable. For the first time in my life while flying in a student priced seat I didn’t have my legs crammed in wierd positions inbetween two seats. The airline crew responded at lightning speed and was present permanently. They carried trays of glasses filled with water or orange juice and smiled at every-one. THAT however, got me a bit freaked out since I remember having an experience of somebody staring at me with huge bulging eyes and smiling a insane smile (wait, that was me I think... but it’s another story).
Marie and I talked about everything. Mostly our ambitions and expectations of the world to come. I discovered that she was going to Bangkok (Thailand you nitwit) to join her boyfriend. Apparently it’s “In” to do things like that. I guess i’m lucky that I don’t have a boyfriend to meet up with. That sucker could even blow my plans of conquoring asia! Really! Stay away from men, they are evil. Of course I end up exchanging e-mail with Marie as she seemed to be a person interesting enough to be keeping contact with (and maybe because I sat there for 12 hours stuck next to the window needing to pee unable to get out because i’m too polite to inturrupt and say “Excuse me, but i REALLY need to take a piss!”). Did i talk about her eyes? No? Well she’s got extremely nice dark eyes with infinite tenderness who occasionally get hidden by a strain of long dark hair. Marie if you read this blog I wish you all the best for your career and future.

Here i am back in communist contradicted country. The flight was very long and I am F.U.B.A.R . I must say i had a very nice time on the plane with a little belgian girl. Miam! Will keep you guys posted i'm going to crash now. Night

From this day on all my blogs will be in english. Yes, life is shit if you can't keep the pace.

Anyway, just had three brilliant days in Paris in which the weather was more than comfortable and kind. Met up with good friends and some shadowy NoFraggers in the bar ChezU. I'll type up something on my way back to china since ill be having a 14 hour flight via Malaysia tomorrow.

Finalement je suis descendu sur ma république privée: Genève. Quel doux soleil se creusant son chemin entre les montagnes pour venir se refleter sur un lac aussi pur et bleu que le ciel. L’air a un certain éclat de pureté. Ca me fait du bien. L’automne vient a peine d’arriver mettant le feu aux feuilles avant les abbatre avec le froid plus tard. L’air est frais (ca me choque) et fait revivre mes poumons atrophiés par les fumées d’usines et de fabriques chinoises qui reignent dans ma province si lointaine.
Je découvre mon père a la gare, le téléphone a l’oreille comme d’habitude qui s’empresse de finir sa conversation. Nous nous mettons tout de suite a débattre de “quand fut la derniere fois que nous nous sommes vus?”. C’est drole et triste a la fois de se dire que cela fait plus d’un an et demi. Il n’a pas changé, peut etre plus de cheveux grissonants. Je ne sais pas. Sa grosse barbe d’il y’a dix ans me manque, j’aimais ce coté teuton et sauvage qu’il avait, pret a prendre une hache pour degommer un sapin afin de construire une cabane. Peut etre qu’il aurait fait un bon trappeur.
Nous marchons le long du lac qui ne cesse de refleter des éclaires de lumière, discutant de cette experience incroyable qu’est la chine. Il compare sans cesse mon expérience a la sienne du Japon il y’a un peu plus de 20ans. C’est peut etre meme a cause/grace a lui que je suis la-bas maintenant a la recherche de cette expérience et challenge. Nous mangeons dans un restaurant japonais ou nous critiquons les chefs qui ne ressemblent en rien a des japonais. Ceci n’empeche cependant pas que la nourriture soit bonne. C’est drole en fait: combien de fois etes vous vraiment en présence de cuisiniers japonais dans ces restos? J’imagine ne pas etre le seul a remarquer que dans plus de 80% des cas ils ne sont pas du pays du soleil levant.
J’accompagne mon père a l’aeroport d’ou il va rejoindre les lointaines provinces du nord. La rencontre fut brève mais sympa; plus le temps passe plus je cherche a comprendre mon père et a vouloir découvrir ce qui l’a rendu ce qu’il est maintenant.
Je prends le tram. Quel sensation de retourner dans cette machine qui tous les jours me transportait dans ce village qu’est Genève. Les arrets n’ont pas changés, les feux non plus, les vieilles encore moins. Leurs petits chiens sur leurs genoux coiffés de petites vestes contre la fraicheur automnale. Des vieux batiments datant du début du XXeme avec des toits tout ronds. Le sommet de la cathedrale Saint-Pierre s’élevant pardessus de la vielle ville tel l’embleme de la cité de Calvin, rapeller qu’ici les montagnes ne sont pas les seules d’avoir le droit de vouloir atteindre le ciel. L’embleme de la ville est pourtant le Jet d’eau. Ah! En voila un qui ne cesse de prendre des metres depuis 100ans. C’est con je ne me rappel pas de la hauteur exacte du jet d’eau, meme ayant travaillé a l’office du tourisme il m’est difficile de deviner. Allons: disons 120metres!
Oui c’est haut.
Je me prends quelques heures de libres pour me ballader dans la ville. Et la je déambule sans objectife dans “ma” ville. Bizzarre. Je ne percois plus les memes choses qu’auparavant. Peut etre es’ce moi qui souhaite créer un froid entre elle et moi. La ville me semble quelconque et je ne ressent rien de spécial en repassant pour la millième fois dans les rues. Je me retrouve a penser de mon boulot en chine et mes ambitions de l’avenir. (Ecouter: Des’ree ; “Feel so high”) D’un coté je m’en veux d’avoir quitté la tranquilitée de la vie en suisse, son confort, sa propreté, mes amis et ma famille. Mais d’un autre coté cette “monotonie” m’exaspère. J’ai besoin de cette excitation, cette anarchie qu’est la chine (Merde, je suis en train de passer aux aveux la. mais il faut que ca sorte). Pourtant je devrais ne pas encore etre contaminé a ce niveau la. En tout cas je l’espère.
J’organise quelques rencontres avec des amis. C’est sympa, mais je sens comme si quelque chose me retenais. J’ai de la peine a leur expliquer ce qu’est la chine pour moi. Les mots sont imprécis et mal choisis. J’ai de la peine a écouter leurs propos d’une “banalité” qui me frustre et pourtant je ne leur en veux pas. L’erreur c’est moi. Je m’attendais surement a pouvoir tout leur dire et qu’ils puissent participer. Certains me disent “Ah! Tu n’a pas changé.” ou “C’est comme si t’étais jamais parti.” Merci mais ca me blesse plus qu’autre chose. Encore une fois c’est moi qui ne comprends plus, qui ne suis plus sur la meme longueur d’onde. D’un autre coté c’est sympa de voir qu’eux aussi avancent dans leur vie et que dans certains cas ca se déroule pas mal. Devenir papa ou avoir une promotion sur Zurich par exemple! J’en ris encore mais je suis content pour eux. Je sais je suis méchant.

Maintenant je rentre sur Paris. J’organise un rendez vous ou deux avec des potes puis au bar ChezWat afin de rencontrer quelques belles gueules de la NoCorp.

Ca y'est! Je suis sur Paris. Mon dieu le bien que ca fait de pouvoir manger un croissant frais!
Le vol s'est bien passé. J'ai bu 5 cafés et étudié en route. L'avion était bondé de chinois et je n'ai pas échappé au raclements de gorges et crachats durant le vol. Le staff a eu l'idée ingenieuse de proposer des "cup noodles" entre les repas qui fait que le peuple goinfre qu'est la chine s'est mis a aspirer bruiyamment ses nouilles. Ceci durant 12 heures de vol je vous le garantit peut rendre fou.
Ma mere est venue me chercher a l'aeroport ce qui est bien sympa. J'ai passé une soirée sympa avec elle a discuter autour d'un pain, du fromage et d'une bouteille de rouge. Expériences, idées, opinions un bon petit débat quoi. Puis a 22H00 j'ai commencé a m'écrouler sur mon assiette; en effet cela fesait bientot 23 heures que je n'avais pas dormi.
Dodo dans la minute ou j'étais au lit pour me reveiller vers 6h du mat plein d'énergie. J'ai fait une petite ballade dans la foret a coté ce qui était vraiment plaisant. La nuit régnait encore sur les ombres tandis qui l'aurore gagnait en puissance pour reprendre sa part du travail en une luminosité blanche sur l'horizon. L'air frais vous saissisant les poumons, les odeurs des feuilles qui pourrisent et la rosée finement déposée sur la nature somnelante dans ces premieres fraicheures d'automne.
Je devais malheureusement descendre sur Genève ce matin mais que ma surprise (ironie®) de trouver tous les services publiques en greve. Une chance encore d'etre arrivé me disje. Cependant j'ai rendez vous avec mon père a Genève a midi (de passage en sachant qu'il travail en allemagne) et du coup le plan tombe a l'eau. Ces fils de putes de fonctionnaires m'ont bien niqués et me ruinent une partie de mon séjour. Je me permets de le dire en mots vulgaires mais je trouve ce comportement innaceptable et indigne d'un pays avec une renomée si grande. Je suis content d'etre revenu mais la france me dis MERDE.