Although I am happy with many of my life's accomplishments, my life seldom goes according to my plans. This time, I had hoped to live in Beijing for six months before moving on to Europe, but life got in the way.

Travelling can be a bother at the best of times. I have been through a lot in the six years I've now spent hopping from city to city. On top of this, add the reality that I find my jobs through the Internet [TEFL.com] and I must endure a fair amount of uncertainty. I went to China in the first place on promises based on a month's correspondence by email, and even though things worked out I still experienced difficulties. It had been a leap into the dark. Unfortunately, although I did as much as I could before accepting my position in Beijing (from asking all the right questions and thoroughly negotiating the terms of my contract, to seeking independent references and checking them out on the Internet), I was destined to experience the worst that working in corrupt countries can sometimes throw at you.

When I arrived in Beijing, there was no way for me to assess whether or not things would turn out okay, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The people I met were friendly, the school seemed considerably more organised than my previous school in Fuzhou, and I was allowed a few days to adjust before I had to start work. I had an apartment to myself near my boss's house. I felt pretty comfortable.

There were five or six other foreigners working there when I arrived. Three or four were from Ireland, as was my boss, and the other two - two girls - were from America. The Irish teachers were due to leave within a week, and so I had little to do with them, but I soon developed a relationship with the two Americans.

After about a week, I began to wonder about things. I sensed that the Irish teachers may not have left under the best of circumstances - there being no formal going away parties or anything - and my American friends were voicing their concerns. Also, my boss had less time for me than I might have liked and no attempt was made to finalise our agreement and to sign a contract. Contrary to our earlier negotiations, I was constantly shuffled about various Beijing schools and asked to teach children's groups.

These schools were a wonder. They still displayed portraits of Ingles, Marx, Lenin and Mao, and they were nothing more than concrete prisons. The 'richer' school was for children whose parents were merely cleaners, and the 'poorer' school was for those children whose parents were unemployed. In the latter, the lights would go out strictly about half-an-hour before the end of the last class, and so I would have to carefully feel my way down the dark, concrete stairs as little children would scurry about me seemingly unaffected.

On this night in particular he insisted that I go out with him and a friend of his for a bit of fun. We ended up at a karaoke bar where it's normal to hire your own room and to sing only in the company of your friends. Of course, a couple of pretty Chinese girls joined us. They helped us sing songs, helped themselves to our drinks, and sat on our laps. In between reciting poetry, my boss spent much of his time trying to negotiate that one of them should come around to his house once a week to spank him for 500 RMB [about $70 US].

The night had been going reasonably well until it became time for us to leave. Of course, it would be usual for our boss to pay for such an evening - as the invitation had been his and I was a new employee, etc - but it turned out that neither he nor his friend had any money. Instead, he decided that he would challenge the bill on account of the girls and refuse to pay. The next thing I knew, about eight angry and intimidating looking Chinese guys had surrounded us. We wouldn't be able to go without either paying the bill or fighting our way out.

Somewhat peeved, I offered to pay, but my boss wouldn't have it. He continued to argue with them, as the girls and matriarchs fluttered about us in panic, and before I knew it he had grabbed one of them around the neck and was holding him up against the wall. Luckily for us, most Chinese men are pretty small, and where we imagine them to be little Bruce Lees, they rather imagine us to be Schwarzeneggers and Rambos. One attempted to grab my boss's friend, but he shook the guy off violently. When he grabbed me I did the same, and so he backed away. Anyway, at this point I had had quite enough and so I paid the money.

Over the next week, nothing was said, and my boss made no attempt to pay me the money he owed. I began dreaming of returning to New Zealand so that I could be with Ting. The American girls continued to tell me how unhappy they were and as we began to share evenings together I learned something about the opinions of the previous Irish teachers. Indeed, everyone had left under bad terms. Supposedly my boss had several times used violence on some of the males.

It was Christmas day that clenched it for me. We had all been invited round to our boss's house for a party that evening, and when we arrived the air was stale from the start. We had some food and did rounds amongst one another in an attempt to start conversations. However, we could see that an argument was brewing between our boss, his wife, her family, and our boss's girlfriend. They soon excused themselves and didn't return for several hours. We were all left to pretend that we were having a good time and to pass around our presents.

When finally our hosts returned, we were all rather exhausted from dancing, but still my boss demanded that we dance with him for the sake of salvaging the evening. He had the nerve to express indignance, rather than gratitude, over the fact that we had succeeded somewhat at entertaining ourselves without him. As his dance moves gradually turned into boxing combinations, I decided to leave, although I felt very anxious that this would lead to a fight.

When I got home that evening, I packed my bags and resolved to leave that morning. I wrote about my woes in my personal journal, phoned Ting for some emotional support, and deliberated over how I would escape the compound without being observed - and consequently thrashed - by my boss. I then decided that I could trust the American girls and that I should probably tell them in case they should suffer my boss's wrath. I called them and told them about the events of the evening from when they had left. I said that this was the final straw and that I was determined to leave. They confided that they were also determined to leave and suggested that I wait with them for a few more days that we might be paid. We agreed that we would leave together as soon as we had our hard-earned money.

Normally I would have the courage and ethics to give any boss notice if I intended to leave. In this case, I was quite concerned for my safety. We recall that he's a sado-masochist former boxing champion with an observed bent towards violence. A few days after Christmas, as the girls and I continued to tour the schools, my boss explained several things: First, the Head Police Commissioner for the Beijing district where we lived and worked was bribing my boss for a share of the school's profits. To clinch the deal, my boss had had to find the Police Boss a Western prostitute.

Second, on Christmas night my boss's wife and her family had shamefully discovered that he had lost his wedding ring. It turned out that he had left it at a brothel and that some Chinese guy was now wearing it. As the Chinese guy didn't want to give it back without securing a small bribe, my boss decided to play dirty. He had the Police Boss send several police thugs around and "they beat the crap out of the guy his friend and demanded that they never return to this area [probably, their home suburbs] again". From what I gather, they were hospital cases.

So, given this and all my other reflections, the girls and I thought it best not to inform our boss of our intentions to leave. We were basically forced to run away. I continued to deliberate about how I would escape from the flats unseen, as I rightfully feared the results if I were to be caught in the act of escape. There would be no going to the police; that was for sure.

I can now bring my story to a conclusion. The day finally came for the school's remaining native English teachers to leave. We were each paid 75 per cent of our income - with 25 per cent being retained in case we should leave before our contracts expired - and we went home to pack our bags. With some clever planning, I managed to escape the compound unnoticed, and I spent another three or four days in Beijing living in a city backpackers. There I tried some new foods and had some fun with a Jewish guy from Israel and my Japanese friend, Masaki. Masaki and I went to the Great Wall of China together, and the guy from Israel came with me to see the Summer Palace. I visited the Forbidden City and partied with a group of people over the solar New Year. Having successfully negotiated entirely in Chinese for a flight to Auckland, I left for New Zealand and my Chinese girlfriend several days into January.


Racism