When in doubt post, post again

Thanks to all of you for the numerous prom posts. I love living vicariously by reading the blogs of others over the internet. I can't believe, however, that somehow the main event for Wellingtonians was a no go. Suffice it to say that last year over 200 people gathered in one place to socialize in a way meriting RCMP enforcement of a noise complaint. The secret? Nobody knew where to go until like 11:15 as prom was entering its final stages. "Hey what's up, know where the party's at?" "Uh, no I dunno. Some people are going to ------ ---------'s, so I'm following them."

In Art yesterday I had one of those little moments that make me chuckle and start narrating silently in the first person to no-one in particular. Or maybe I write it down in the 3rd volume of 'the Taiwan journals' just in case anyone is bored & persistent enough to tackle the work in all its obscure, illegible glory.

As I may have commented at the start of the year, my class started out gender segregated. Well, we were arranged by number, and the girls got the first half of the numbers, so there was a perfect line through the middle of the class: girls at the front, boys at the back. Of course, eventually that changed. But the culture that takes the pains to arrange those sorts of things did not abate. I doubt I can even take a dent at it in my time here; right now, all I do is berate people who say homosexuality is disgusting, and tell others to think for themselves when they consult others' work or a review book for help on a "The Lady or the Tiger?" essay.

Anyway, when French Alex & I were in a different Art class first semester, we sat with the girls and thought nothing of it--but of course, we're waiguoren (外國人), the exception, not the rule. So Sunny, a guy who I sometimes think is gay, but is handsome & popular with the ladies, was pimpin' at a table with 5 girls. The teacher asks (over the mic of course) "Is this a guys' table or a girls' table?" Some tools feel the need to respond "A girls' table!" Sunny, with a reluctant grin on his face, relocates.

At this point, just because I can, I wrote "where's the gender equality?" on the middle of a piece of paper. Well, more a sense of irony than anything. What surprised me was when my class leader (I still call him fubanzhang as he was 1st semester though) took the paper, wrote something and gave it back: "Not inside our school" was his answer, in nice legible characters that made my day. Well, at least there's hope for the new generation. As long as they don't become (or remain) tools or get into any wage slavery at any salary level, it should be all good.

[Providing China doesn't change the status quo.'