KFC and the police

The day began as any other and though my night was interrupted by some awful nightmares I got up cheerfully looking forward to another day of work. The lessons went well and the students still managed to surprise me with their choirs of “good morning teacher!”

After work I went to the south campus to meet with Osmond for my certificate of expertise and my registration of residency. Any foreigner coming to China must get their residency registered at the police station.
What we hadn’t foreseen was that this registration must take place within 24 hours after entering the country otherwise there is a feign and instead of filling in a form yourself and be done, the police has to fill in all kinds of forms in three-fold, which normally takes two hours.
Thankfully the police officers where very friendly and swift, in the end it took one and a half hours and a 300 yuan feign which I must pay at the bank tomorrow. Still, both being tired of a days work, the wait in a smoky office with walls turning brown, water strains on the ceiling and two goldfish in a plastic bucked parked on the floor in a corner was very long and seemed like days.
We had passed a KFC on the way to the station and by now, after only having eaten a bit of rice at lunch, the “weKeepFuckingupChicken” place became more and more attractive.
The two officers who helped us were very clear and friendly in their explanations and advice, and after having signed what seemed like a hundred forms they escorted us out of the building.
I had already told Osmond I was going to the chicken hell place to pick up some food… He remembered my story about the chickens and didn’t want anything even though he loves KFC.
After picking up the “food” we parted ways, both taking a bus home.
When I reached my door, there was my nemesis! I am sure it was him, the way he moved his head stringy things as if he where saying “I’m still here, you stupid woman, let me in!”
I opened my door as fast as I could, shutting the monster out, only to find two of its offspring in my bathroom. I quickly dealt with them by crushing them back to the dark pits where they had crawled out of.
At this time I was beginning to feel faint and weak, so I sat down and began eating.
And eat I did, like a shipwreck survivor who spent an enormously long time at sea on a raft made of some oil drums and rope without food, while I tried my very best to suppress the thought of the chickens who had been though hell so I could chuck the French fries, chicken burger and spicy chicken popcorn down my throat in record time, all the while watching the Tango Lesson without subtitles.
After this “wholesome” meal I needed three cigarettes to recover, still trying not to think about the chickens.
Now its half past ten and I feel I could sleep for days!


About alastor993

artist, Art teacher Interests: Drawing, Painting, Experimental film making, writing, philosophy, motorbikes, sleeping!
This entry was posted in Complaints, Life 'n shit, Travels and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to KFC and the police

  1. Dasha says:

    Hey Liza,
    Jeetje wat een verhaal weer. Het is wel een apart land, of iig heel anders dan wat je hier gewend was.
    Whats up met alle beesten trouwens?
    Gaat het slapen beter?
    Jor en ik zitten nu nog in Portugal, maar zaterdag gaan we weer naar huis. Hebben tot nu toe niet echt goed geslapen, de portugezen houden van enorm harde bedden, een plank is er zacht bij.
    Nou voor nu dikke kus, X 😉

  2. alastor993 says:

    Hi Das!
    Hebbie t fijn in Portugal?
    Hier alles goed! Kwam gister thuis van de pub en werd niet geconfronteerd door monsters! Dus ben blij! De Chinesen houden ook van harde bedden, maar ik lig prima, het bed wat ik nu heb is iets minder hard! haha
    Dikke KUS!

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