More questions about China

  1. What’s with the terribly drawn on eyebrows?
  2. Why does no one go to the gym in the morning (I’m not complaining about this! I love having the place to myself)?
  3. Why do people use hair velcro instead of hair clips?
  4. I swear my colleague clips his nails at least twice a week, always at his desk. Why does he need to clip his nails so often?
  5. On the subject of nails, why do some men have long nails or (ewwww vom) the one really long pinky nail? Please don’t answer this one…
  6. Why is it okay for grown adults to send “cute” pictures of kids as emojis/stickers on their WeChat?
  7. Why can’t people read maps? It seems to be some sort of national affliction.
  8. Why do people believe that Indian food isn’t spicy?
  9. Why do people think ducks can’t fly?

Do you have any questions about China? Let me know and I’ll try to answer them.

Visiting home

After circling Essex like a metaphorical drain in the sky, the plane finally landed at Heathrow. I looked out at the dark, the rain – home at last. I didn’t know if I was very tired or very awake, and in fact the only thing I could be really certain of was that I needed the toilet.

At baggage reclaim I sat on a trolley and watched the suitcases nose their way up onto the conveyor belt and snake their way around the carousel. I thought about the slaughterhouse I went to in Shanghai and all the channels for cows, people, blood, meat, all flowing with the same lumbering grace of Heathrow’s baggage reclaim. I tried to remember what my suitcase looked like. Black? Rectangular? Possibly with a handle? I wondered if I would be too tired to do anything if it didn’t show up.

Case in hand, I headed out into Heathrow, scanning the waiting faces in case anyone had come to meet me, trying not to feel hopeful. Oh. No. Okay. It’s fine. It’s what I was expecting. I need the loo anyway.

Everything felt so…. normal, like I didn’t live 10,000 miles away in another continent, in another language, with another font, in another colour scheme. Oh look, Marks & Spencer! I dragged my case down to the metro – no! It’s the tube! Tube, tube, tube, not a metro. My card worked, I felt like a local, the local I am or was or would be or should be or I don’t even know anymore.

Why are the seats fabric? Why is everything so familiar? Why are the announcements al in English? Why are there so few Chinese people? Can I stare at people? Should I do the laowai nod to other white people? Why doesn’t my phone work underground? Why are we only at Hounslow? Why does this feel so incredibly normal?

My life in Shanghai felt so normal until suddenly I’m not there and now this is normal, but Shanghai is normal too, and I wonder how many people I really am. Kaleidoscopic me, thousands of eyes and faces and hair (the thickest my hair will ever look) and limbs and suitcases.

Visiting home is so normal, so abnormal, so confusing.

Things I wish I understood about China

I’ve lived here for nearly two years now. I’d say I’m not completely unfamiliar with the language, culture and history, and yet there are still so many things that baffle me on a daily basis.

  1. Why are people so loud? Why doesn’t noise bother anyone? Related: why don’t people use headphones?
  2. Why do people panic so much? For example, at the airport, running to the gate for their reserved seat, or when they arrive at a restaurant 2 mins ahead of schedule and message you asking if they should order?
  3. Why does anyone like pork floss?
  4. Why did a major publishing house produce a textbook called “London Bridge” with a picture of Tower Bridge on it? It’s hard to convince anyone that they’re thinking of Tower Bridge when they say that they want to visit London Bridge. I can guarantee that anyone visiting London Bridge will be very disappointed.
  5. Why does everyone insist Theresa May is a strong leader? Also, when shown the video of her dancing, why do they say “ah, at least she’s trying!”. Trying what? Can you imagine Xi Jinping doing that?!
  6. Why do girls wear red eyeshadow? They look dead.
  7. When I ask a Chinese person where they’re from, why do they answer with just “China”? Then when I ask “but where in China?” they say the province (note that even the smallest province is bigger than England). Then if I ask further they will name a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. Isn’t there a step missing? If someone asks where I’m from I don’t leap straight from “Europe” to the name of the road I grew up on.
  8. Why can’t people knock once on the door? Delivery drivers shout to announce their arrival, then knock, then wait two seconds before knocking again, and even if you shout that you’re coming they will continue to knock. Friends will do the same but without the shouting. Chill out!
  9. Why do people walk so slowly? Even in rush hour, people amble along slowly. This is contested by pretty much every Chinese person, who will insist that people walk quickly in the big cities and that in HK people walk incredibly fast. While it’s true that people in HK do walk a bit quicker, it’s still really slow!
  10. Why do people think tap water in the UK will make your hair fall out, and why is this the worst possible thing tap water could do? I know I would rather be bald than die of heavy metal poisoning…

Changing jobs in China: the banking edition

Last year I changed jobs, and wrote about the ordeal here. I’ve recently changed jobs again, but it was a much smoother process:

  • 15 September: hand in notice
  • 31 October: final day, HR applied for the cancellation of my work permit
  • 14 November: work permit cancellation letter ready, take documents to the agency dealing with the process to start the online application for my new work permit
  • 28 November: online process approved
  • 29 November: counter application started
  • 3 December: apply to cancel residence permit and replace with stay permit
  • 12 December: stay permit collected ALSO work permit fully approved
  • 17 December: apply for residence permit
  • 26 December: passport with new residence permit ready

Everything went smoothly but you’ll notice I wasn’t allowed to work (no work permit = no working) from the day I left my old work (31 October) and mid December. Just as well I had some pennies saved up!

Speaking of pennies, obviously I do not work for free and I prefer to get paid. In China it’s pretty standard practice that your employer will specify which banks they will pay your salary into, and if you don’t already have an account with one of those banks then you need to open one. There are four big banks in China (all state owned, of course): Bank of China, ICBC, Agricultural Bank of China and China Construction Bank. I have accounts with Bank of China and ICBC, but don’t really use the ICBC account as my name is written differently to wherever else it appears on official documents and this causes issues.

On my first day at work I was told I could only be paid into ICBC or China Merchants Bank. As I can’t use my existing ICBC account, I would have to open a new account at either bank – and have heard so many horror stories about ICBC that I chose CMB.

First of all, I had to wait until I had my passport back from getting the residence permit. Once I had this I went to the nearest branch (right by my office, luckily). They immediately listed all the different things I would need to apply: residence permit? work contract? housing contract? police registration form? Shanghai phone number? Yes, to all these. They asked me to fill in a form while they photocopied my documents and then told me they would be in touch once they had authorisation from head office.

I went away and waited. HR messaged me several times asking me what was going on. Eventually I got a call to say I’d been approved.

I went back into the branch and the lady I’d been dealing with wasn’t there, so I explained the whole situation again. The new cashier got out all my documents and some more forms. She gave me a tax form to fill in… which is when things went bad.

I’ve been hearing things about tax changes here in China – essentially foreigners can now be taxed on global income, so they want our tax numbers. My ICBC account has actually been frozen because I haven’t supplied them with this number. But that’s beside the point. It’s never been particularly clear whether they want our Chinese tax numbers or the ones from our home country. After lots of hassle last week, I managed to almost get my Chinese tax number, but it turned out they wanted the home tax number (the form actually said the tax number where we are tax residents, which for me is only China currently, but hey).

I filled in the form – the first I’ve seen with a box for middle name. This caused some problems as China generally assumes I have two first names. The cashier was also confused that my middle name didn’t match what was on my passport but it turned out she was looked at the words “Eireannach/Irish”. The biggest problem was that my passport is Irish and my tax number is my UK national insurance number.

“You need to put your Irish tax number”, she said.

“I don’t have one, I’ve never worked in Ireland,” I told her. “I have only worked in China and the UK, so the only non-Chinese tax number I have is a UK one.”

“I don’t think we can open your account,” she told me. “It has to match your nationality.”

“But I also have British nationality…” I nearly said, before I thought better of it, dual nationality being an alien concept in China.

Eventually, after making some phone calls and involving almost everyone in the branch, it was decided that I could use my passport number as my tax number, and that they didn’t need my UK tax number.

Next up, my phone number had to be verified, by calling the phone company to check that the number was registered to me (and my passport number). I also got sent a 6 digit code to enter.

Finally, I signed my name several times on the screen, ticking “I agree” to things I hadn’t read (does anyone read these things?), set up my PIN, set up the PIN for the app, signed my bank card and got the bank to write down the SWIFT code for me.

1.5 hours later, I had a new bank account!

I went back to the office and let HR know, then downloaded the app. Of course, having a bank card in China is not that useful as it’s not like you can use it to do very much. Most of the time I do everything using Alipay or WeChat Pay. Amazingly I was able to link my new account to both these apps! I transferred some money to test it out and now I just have to hope that I get paid with no drama next week.

To think that in the UK, I’ve had the same bank account since I was six… I’ve been in China less than two years and I already have three! Still, a good test for both my patience and my Chinese skills.

Things I do that are rather Chinese

I wrote a while ago about why I think I might actually be Chinese. But having lived here for a little while now, I have developed some rather Chinese habits…

When I first moved to China I was amazed that everyone was glued to their phones. In the UK, there’s no signal on the tube so you have to read the crappy free papers instead, but in China (well, Shanghai at least) there’s 4G everywhere – and 5G coming soon. Now I am a phone zombie too. I stare at my phone on the metro, including when getting off (though I do hold on to it tightly as I brace for impact with all the people rushing to get on before anyone gets off), I read while walking down the street, I hold up traffic because I’m checking social media while cycling to work. I’m not necessarily very proud of myself but it’s easy to get sucked in. And sometimes, every now and then at least, it’s work related and then I feel entirely justified.

Speaking of social media… I joke that many people only do things so that they can post it on social media. In China, pretty much all foreign social media is blocked, and if you want to boast to your friends that you queued up at Hey Tea to get a boba cheese fruit tea then you post the picture on WeChat Moments. I mock this, along with the filters and the beauty filters (admittedly some of them are ridiculous and make people look like aliens), but guess what I did when I went to Hey Tea last week?!

People in the UK, my mum at least (hi Mum!), think it’s weird that people in Asia wear face masks. But you know what, it’s actually quite nice to have a mask on in winter as it keeps your face warm. It helps to let people know that you’re sick (eg. your boss), and it feels like you’re doing something about your annoying winter cold rather than just moaning about it. On polluted days, a mask is crucial, specifically one with a proper PM2.5 rating. I have one with filters that you change on a daily basis, and while I think it’s very effective, I can’t get the idea that I’m changing my mask’s nappy.

When I was growing up we used to go to Peterborough to the big shopping centre as a treat during the school holidays. Now, not only do I call shopping centres ‘malls’, but I go to one EVERY DAY. Every. Single. Day. China has an abundance of malls, far too many to be in any way commercially viable (the government has incentivised this, and as a result you see dead malls (very strange to see) and thousands of malls full of all the same shops), and a lot of services can be found in them. Normally on the basement level, or B1, there is a food court and superamarket. Floors 1-3 are shops, floor 4 is kids shops/services, floor 5+ are restaurants, hairdressers, beauty salons, etc, and then on the top floor there may be a cinema. If you want to buy something, you’re going to a mall. If you want to eat, the chances are you’re going to a mall. It’s a weird phenomenom. Actually, as I write this I am quite proud to realise I haven’t been to a mall today (I’m in a trendy coffee shop – so Shanghai).

I’ve saved the best for last… I was brought up to cover my mouth when I cough, but it turns out that the 1.4 billion people here were not taught the same thing. Now I’m not saying I do this all the time, certainly not when there are people around, but sometimes I cough and don’t bother covering my mouth and it feels simultaneously disgusting and OH SO LIBERATING.

Things that make me irrationally angry about living in China

Living in China can sometimes be challenging, and sometimes it can be rage inducing. Some of the things that grind my gears are (in my opinion, anyway) genuine issues. However there are some things that I know are not really big issues, yet they drive me nuts. For my friend, it’s the socks that old people wear, like mini stockings: slightly off-flesh colour, usually too tight to make little sausage legs. For me, well, read on…

1. The Shanghai Metro is a beautiful thing. There are 17 (?) lines now, a new one or two (plus extensions) every year. It’s cheap, it’s clean, it’s reliable. It’s also crowded and some of the people it’s crowded with have no concept of things like queuing, not pushing, talking at a reasonable volume, not playing music/videos at full blast, spitting, etc. But this isn’t what makes me angry (because it just can’t…. mind over matter). What I hate is that the hanging handgrips are positioned just at forehead height. Maybe this isn’t an issue for shorter people, but I’m not exactly a giant (1.76) yet these stupid hanging things smack me in the head all the time. They also have quite a bit of swing to them, so if someone lets go of one then it swings at quite a rate directly into your face. I bruised my eye socket this way.

2. Water bottles in China are often made of very flimsy plastic and filled completely to the brim, so that when you open them you compress the plastic and spill water all over yourself.

3. In hotels, the bathroom is usually separated from the rest of the room by a window. I asked a Chinese friend and he said it’s to make the room look bigger. No thanks, I’d rather have a smaller room with no toilet in the middle of it. Another friend said it’s so that when you’re having a shower the prostitute can’t do a runner with all your valuables.

4. Nailclipping in public. The sound of it makes me want to kill someone, possibly by clipping them to death.

5. Table manners in general. Slurping and burping just sound so awful to me. If I’m eating on my own in a restaurant I take headphones. Actually, that’s my China pro-tip: always have headphones. Noise cancelling if possible.

6. When you write Chinese characters, you have to write the strokes in a particular order, so this gets drilled into kids from the moment they learn to write. A lot of people apply the same order to writing in English, so they will cross the ‘t’ before writing the rest of the letter. It just looks so wrong, especially if they try to write in cursive (though admittedly very few people do this – my writing is “impossible to read”, according to my boss, which makes me happy as I can easily communicate with native English speakers/readers without my colleagues understanding).

7. Contrary to popular belief, milk is available in China. Some people are lactose intolerant, but most other people drink milky drinks like there’s no tomorrow. Usually I’ll order milk from the supermarket, but if I’ve run out and I need my morning coffee, I will grab some from the convenience store. Milk comes in little tetrapak cartons and is stored next to the yoghurt, also in tetrapak cartons, both in blue. And this is how I poured yoghurt into my coffee.

8. On that note… why is the yoghurt always runny? Where’s the Greek yoghurt at?

While I can be zen (or am becoming more zen…) about some of the big things (or at least I tell myself I can!), these little things cause me completely disproportionate levels of stress. If you’ve been to China, what little things drive you up the wall?

Toe Real

I enjoy running, although it leaves my feet looking pretty gross most of the time. I lost my first toenail a few years ago and although it grew back it was never the same again, and I’ve lost the same one a few times since. A few months ago I started having a terrible pain in my toe but I ignored it, as I was busy at work and my chiropodist friend recently moved back to Australia so it all felt like too much hassle.

Fast forward to October, and I ran the Changzhou Half Marathon. Changzhou is a small city of 5 million people about 200km from Shanghai. There was 30,000 people taking part and only 15 foreigners – our names were listed on a big board. People took photos with us the whole time. I don’t mind if someone is nice about it, maybe even asks, but when people photograph you coming out of a portaloo or when you’re at 18km and want to die then I’m not so happy with it. And don’t grab me and force me into your photo. I did that to a cat at a cat cafe the other day and it bit me, and you know what, I deserved it.

The Changzhou Half Marathon was probably the dullest route I have ever run – the first 6km were in a straight line on a completely soulless road – but in a way this is very Changzhou. We did go past Wycombe Abbey International School, which was exciting for me as the school is owned by my old company and I’ve taught a load of students from there. Otherwise, the day was grey and the lake was brown, and at around 10km my toe was really hurting. It felt like it was on fire actually, not a blister but an intense pressure from within, a sock volcano waiting to erupt. At the finish line we drank prosecco and I took my shoe off, saw blood through my sock and put my shoe back on.

Back in civilisation (AKA Shanghai) I took a closer look at my toe. When I prodded my big toenail loads of blood and pus came out. I decided to go to the doctors. My friend goes to the doctors on a pretty much weekly basis, so I got the details of the clinic and made an appointment. One of the joys of private medical insurance is that it’s super swanky. I think I’ve written about my guilty enjoyment of it before. This time I showed up and they gave me a pair of fluffy slippers to wear. It’s another world, I tell you (though due to billing cycles etc I ended up having to co-pay some of this treatment so I was milking the fluffy slippers as much as I could).

The doctor started telling me about how they didn’t like to remove infected toenails and instead would normally prescribe antifungals, but then I showed him my toe and he said that he’d definitely be removing it as it had two different types of infection (what can I say, I’m very talented). He gave me antibiotics to take and told me to come back in a week.

A week later I came back, no noticeable difference in my toe, and the nurse told me to lie on bed and wait for the doctor. She asked me if I was nervous and I said no, of course not. Eventually the doctor came in and got straight into the task of removing my toenail, zero chat despite my best efforts. He anaesthetised my foot, not well enough as he had to do it again once he started cutting, and I decided to stop watching and stared at the ceiling and felt miserable and lonely. After what felt like forever, the doctor announced that he was done, and I sat up and admired my toenail, sitting alone on the counter.

After bandaging up my toe, I was told to go and wait in another room in case I felt faint after the anaesthetic. The nurse asked if I needed a medical certificate to get signed off work. Off work?? Clearly they haven’t met my boss! The nurse was adamant that I couldn’t walk for the next week but also didn’t have crutches to give me, so I sat and waited to be discharged, texting a friend furiously.

Once at home, my toe did really start to hurt but I was teaching an online lesson so I took it out on the student. It hurt for a couple of days but very quickly felt fine. I’d been told that twice a day I needed to wash my toe with saline, use a special cream and bandage it up, and I was a bit wary about doing it at first as I thought it might look horrifying, but it was no big deal and I managed to keep up this regime for a good 10 days.

The worst thing is that after having the toenail removed I was told: NO RUNNING. I pressed the doctor on how long this was for, and he said “a long time” (ah, so scientific). I forfeited my place in the Shanghai Marathon (probably a good thing, as I wasn’t in any way trained and it absolutely pissed it down on the day) and still haven’t run… soon… soon…

Final note: aren’t you pleased this post had no pictures?

Grand Tour: Curry

Being British, I miss the fine cuisine found in the British Isles, and by that I mean curry. Last year my friend Ellie introduced me to an Indian restaurant in Shanghai, and we went along together. Other than that, I got my fix of Indian food when I went to Hong Kong for the week. This year I moved house and ended up 500 metres from the restaurant Ellie had recommended. I have been many times – including the day I moved in, which was a generally horrendous day, other than the curry, as it involved staying out salsa dancing (in a non-salsa bar) until 3am with my colleague, then having to try to find packing tape as I’d neglected to buy any, followed by packing all my belongings while trying to stave off a nauseous hangover of my life. Oh, and then getting stopped by the police mid-move and the removal man telling me off for having too many boxes. Let’s just say I earned that curry.

This year has also seen me start a Grand Tour of Shanghai’s Indian restaurants. I don’t really remember how it came about, but another friend and I started talking about curries and now we can’t stop talking about curries and are working our way around all the Indian restaurants we can find. Curries are changeable; garlic naan is non-negotiable.

Lotus Leaf, Tianzifang
Tucked away in the alleyways of Tianzifang, I came here after a day at the art gallery with another good friend. I’d been to another branch of Lotus Leaf but this one is more atmospheric. We ate curry and garlic naan. I got told that beer with curry was wrong and I should be drinking coke. I gave that a go. This is a great choice for dinner if you’re in Tianzifang.

Vedas, Changshu Lu
Despite being on a main road, I found this one harder to find than Lotus Leaf. Also, I’d walked there in the August sweatfest so I was “glowing”. There was a distinct lack of atmosphere in the restaurant but we got the party started with garlic naan and one of the best curries of my life. The vegetable kebab are out of this world. I could eat here every week.

Masala Art, Wuding Lu
After a long day at work, what I needed was a curry, though true to form I managed to get lost – right outside the building. At one point, a family came in and the two sons kept their helmets on for the whole meal. The food was pretty solid but despite a coke I was extremely sleepy and stuffing my face with garlic naan did not help to wake me up. I will have to go back.

Currify, near Nanjing Xi Lu
I’d spotted this place, next door to my beloved Sproutworks, a few weeks before, though had to wait until my inconsiderate friend came back from holiday. It seemed to be a collaboration between Currify and a bar, but the only nod to it being a bar seemed to be that we were perched on bar stools. The naan was garlicky and delicious, so we ordered more, and we went wild and ordered another coke each – then of course neither of us slept that night.

Nepali Kitchen, Julu Lu
A renegade choice, I went to Nepali Kitchen about a year ago when a university friend moved to Shanghai. Somehow it wasn’t where I thought it was, so yes, I inadvertently got slightly lost yet a-fucking-gain. Pineapple shashlik was the standout dish, garlic naan wasn’t very garlicky (sob), one of us had two cokes but one of us was smart and chose jasmine tea for their second drink. We managed to spend 4.5 hours here before we were finally kicked out by the waiter.

Teaching C this summer

I mentioned my student, C, before. He’s nearly 18 and has some challenges understanding what’s appropriate and what’s not. This summer I was teaching him GCSE Geography. Here is a selection of the conversations we had during our classes.

C thinks dinosaurs still exist, some of them at least.

C thinks young ladies shouldn’t go camping in case they have their period.

C also thinks young ladies don’t eat at McDonald’s.

“Miss, what would that teacher over there do if I punched you?”

“20% of people in China are lazy, 40% of people in the UK are lazy and more than 50% of people in France are lazy”

C asked if I’d ever stayed in a 5* hotel, and when I said yes, he asked how I’d paid for it. “But miss, you’re not rich, you work here!”

“America lost the Vietnam War because the soldiers were lazy and ate too much fast food”

“People deserved to die in the tsunami because they shouldn’t live in silly places”

“I think it would be too hot to live in the centre of the earth, I’m glad I don’t live there”

“Global warming will make Africa warmer but nowhere else”

C wanted to know why he wasn’t allowed to refer to another teacher, who is black, as “that dark man”, even behind his back.

“Miss, you are lucky you live in China because no one will punch you for being a lady. Five years ago this wasn’t the case, in Yunnan you would get punched for being a lady, now it’s fine though”

“Only China sent aid to Haiti after the earthquake”

C got angry with me for showing a video made by NASA and not the Chinese space agency.

“Miss, your skin is pretty and nice”

C was talking about responsibilities, and said that his responsibilities are to help ladies carry their bags and and their babies. When questioned about this he said that he would only offer to carry someone’s baby if they had two or three babies on their hands.

“The government of Africa is rubbish. I’m sorry to use such a strong word, miss, but they are rubbish”

C is adamant that the population of Canada is 2.4 billion.

“Urbanisation is bad because you then have to build a drawbridge for all the people”

“If you were my wife, I would protect you when you went swimming”

C thinks volcanoes are man-made.

“Miss, will you sleep with me in a hotel?”

My first ayi

When I lived in a shared house in London, we had a cleaner once a week. There were four of us, plus visiting partners and a cat, and the idea was that having a cleaner would help us to keep the place clean/tidy throughout the week. It cost us about 15 GBP per hour (I can’t find the pound sign on this keyboard…). Because I am middle class and British, I found having a cleaner really weird, but accepted that the alternative was to clean up after my housemates.

In Shanghai, I live on my own and so have been fighting getting a cleaner. But no more.

Yesterday I went on 大众点评 (an app that’s a bit like yelp or google reviews or something, but better – you can book through it) and ordered a cleaning lady, or ayi, to come this morning. It cost me 70 RMB for two hours.

She showed up 20 minutes early, which was a bit awkward as I was just going out to buy a milk tea and some more cleaning products – I was suddenly worried that she wouldn’t bring any… and I was right. We had a bit of a chat and I showed her around the flat and left her to start on the bathroom while I went to the shops to buy her a mop.

I came back and found her cleaning the bathroom with my face towel. “Is it okay to use this cloth?” she asked. Well, a bit late now…

I retreated to my bedroom where I attempted to look very studious. She didn’t care about this and kept popping in to ask me questions about why I lived alone, how much rent I paid, why I didn’t clean more often… In the meantime she made every surface in my flat damp, before sweeping the floor and making that damp too. I *think* she used some cleaning products but not really enough.

After about an hour she told me that she was done, and I pretended to inspect the place and said “yeah yeah, looks great, thanks” so that she could leave and I could use the loo.

Actually, she’s not done a bad job. Cleaning is boring and I’m happy to pay someone to do it for me, and I get to practice my Chinese in the meantime. And now I own a mop.

Here are my top tips for getting an ayi:

  • Don’t expect her to bring any cleaning materials or products. Mine literally just brought a straw hat.
  • Either get one through a recommendation or you can order one through the app if you can read Chinese.
  • Don’t expect her to speak any English whatsoever.
  • Expect lots of personal questions!
  • Hide anything you don’t mind her commandeering for use as a cleaning cloth. I’m serious: towels, pillow cases, sheets, underwear, clothes, etc.
  • Point out the cleaning products several times and make it clear that you want them used.
  • Don’t get stressed that her idea of cleaning is to make everything damp with a cloth. If you have specific things you want cleaning then either tell/show her or do it yourself when she’s gone – I have a bit of a mold problem and bought some fancy imported mold spray but I wasn’t going to go to the hassle of explaining how to use this to her.
  • If you book her for a certain time, eg 09:30, expect her anytime from 09:00. And don’t expect her to stay for two hours, she’ll tell you when she’s finished and then you can either say you’re happy with it or ask her to clean something she’s missed.

It’s pretty cool to think I have a nice clean(ish) flat now, having booked it on an app yesterday. That’s one of the cool things about living in China, you can order/book anything you like. If I run out of ice, I order some. If I’m hungry, I order food. If I want an inflatable ball pond to play in, I order one. Life is convenient. Life is good.