Aye. just when yuo think things can't get much worse, they do. Damn. And how. Finding people lying to me pisses me off, and I don't care what culture you're from, this is business, and if it means you lose face in order to get things moving, then so be it.

Our techie tells me he has not seen the products that got returned three days previously. Even though he signed for them and took them to his office. So I suggest that the box uppon which his cookies are sitting might be a good place to look, in front of the whole office, brought me no friends. As he had promised to get me some answers as to potentially WHY the products had failed by Thursday evening, and it was now Friday, I had just had enough of this face saving bullshit. You want to be an international company, stop thinking like a local one.

Saving face usually means finding a bit of middle ground, and so the bullshit excuse of "misunderstanding" comes in to play very often. Rob, however, takes none of that, and even took the risk of making El Pres lose face. Once. not sur eit's good to play that game too often though, especially given the fact that there is a recession on and my next job interview is not scheduled until October. Hehehehe.

In the months of being single, I have enjoyed the being at home alone bit. Sure it is not always so easy, and you want someone there to be with, but we come through issues somehow, and with 2 kittens keeping me awake at night, it's definitely not quiet in Rob's house. There are some who would say that I love my cats much too much, and to those people the No Shit Sherlock award will be delivered soon.

So a lack of sleep and people lying to me about stuff made me in a bad mood, and then clients telling me more products have failed was - I thought - the ultimate. Could it get worse? Then the rain on the way home, soaking me and the whistle. Ok - surely that's it? No mucker. Not by a long chalk.

In the Friday meeting, El Pres was not there, so I was unable to get my views heard by anyone who can actually make a decision. And a client got pissed off big time by my colleague who promised exclusivity for France (yea right!) and now went in to a project against another of my clients. Dick wad. This week has been the worst in the office so far, but I know it can get worse. I just hope it won't. It did end though with 2 new orders so the money is coming in. And it appears that I outsold the whole of the rest of the sales team combined in Q2. However, as I tell El Pres, I need to prove my worth to him this quarter and next quarter as well, so I am taking nothing for granted.

And Joanne came back in to my life yesterday.

I was riding home after 2 days of absolute shit at work and the strangest thought came to me. As the rain started to come down in torrents and I was in my suit on the Skywave getting absolutely drenched, I thought that coming home to two kittens is rather like getting a massage in a Bangkok massage parlour. No matter how shitty you feel, no matter how bad the day has been, you're assured of a happy end.

Loads of technical problems at work, loads of people talking bullshit and not solving problems. Should I care? Damn right I should. I get paid much too much not to.

Tomorrow's another day. Let's hope it gets better. I would say it can't get much worse, but tempting fate like that is not something I particularly want to do right now. I just hope the suit dries out in time...

RED

It was my own fault – and I should, at my tender age, have known better. But Rob usually learns the hard way – if indeed at all. So I was commenting about how good the Suzuki is, and how it had not needed to be in the work shop for months. All this though whilst at the same time contemplating very seriously the procurement of a 600cc GSX. 30% more expensive than the Kawasaki I like, it is a pip of a machine, matched only by my desire to actually own one. Given my recent good fortune in obtaining a job which pays me real cash money, the time is right for this investment, if that is the correct terminology for it.

 

And when the lao ban from the motorcycle mechanic called me to let me know he had found something, and needed me to being in some documents, that was essentially the end of the line for the Skywave. It had had enough. Like a jealous woman, accusing her husband of infidelity, it was angry. At a red light it decided to become noisy, the newly changed exhaust just suddenly becoming a barrage of ugly sound, as if I was the Le Mans 24 hour race all on my own.

 

I made it to the office, but was not too keen on my chances of making it home that evening after work. Should I chance it? I decided I would, and so in a manner that would make Lewis Hamilton look fast, I slowly made my way home, more noticeable than someone doing a rather loud fart in church. Pbbbb.

 

I was not going to chance anything the next morning, so I called up the lao ban and asked him to collect the bike from my home the next day, whilst I took a taxi to work. The joys of cheap public transport in Taiwan make even a 20 km drive to the office nothing more than a small dent in the finances. By the evening I had received a call from the mechanic saying come and collect the bike – it’s ready. Nice one. Hardly cost me a bean as well.

 

It was my own fault – and I should, at my tender age, have known better. But Rob usually learns the hard way – if indeed at all. So I was still mourning the kitty, and really not in the mood to have any more cats, not just yet, when I saw, in one of the offices next to ours, 2 kittens in a cage, being fed. Not being able to resist, I had a look, and the lady who was feeding them asked me if I wanted to hold one. Well, holding one wouldn’t harm, so I said sure. And then I had to hold the other one too. And then she asked if I wanted one, and I said could I have both, and the deal was sealed.

 

Grace and Halle are now seriously messing up my sleeping habits and my apartment. After 9 days of being very wary of me Halle – the Ginger one – climbed up the back of my chair and slipped in to my lap. So I gave her a cuddle, and – much to her surprise – she liked it. In fact, she liked it so much, she purred for the first time.

 

Grace needed a few more days to get in to such an affectionate state, whilst Halle just gets more and more cuddly. I miss Kahukura so much, more and more, but these two babies fill some of the huge gap that was left behind.

 

It was my own fault – and I should, at my tender age, have known better. But Rob usually learns the hard way – if indeed at all. Commenting about how long it had been since I had received a speeding ticket, I got home one evening to find a familiar envelope waiting for me, with a photo of me, and my bike, tonking along. Usually a fine of $1400 - $1600 (Taiwan dollars!), I was not ready for the bashing my bank account was about to take. 

 

Having been caught on camera doing 111km/h in a 50 limit, I was not exactly the happiest of campers to find that my fine was a whopping NT$8000. That will stop me from speeding that fast again. At last the Taiwanese government has done something to stop the mega amounts of dangerous racing by making the fines hurt.

 

I tried to pay the bill. I went to the OK mart, which is where it says I can pay, but they said I had to go to the police. So I went to the police but they said I had to go to the post office. I went to the post office, and they just refused flat down to take my money. So I called up the number on the envelope, but no one wanted to talk to me. When I finally got through to someone, the guy said that he would call back later.

 

“When later?” I asked.

 

“Huh?” the rude, bin lang chewing tosser said.

 

“What time will you call?”

 

“2”

 

He still has not called. As I have made 5 very valid attempts to pay this fine, I will now no longer do anything. I have done what I can to pay, but the Taiwanese government seems not to want my money. Thankfully I got flashed again this morning on the way in to the office, so another fine will come to my home soon, a much more affordable one which is payable at the 7-Eleven. Now that’s much more convenient.

You've got to love Taiwan and the Chinese culture. In one James Bond movie, the one with that gorgeous Malaysian babe Michelle Yeo, the evil one jokes about the Chinese, always eager to save face. But it is like that - losing face is about the worst thing that can happen to people here.

So when some beetle-nut-eating Taiwanese nob ran a red light, causing me to brake hard and avoid him, I hit the horn, and flipped him the bird. Eager not to lose face, he zoomed in behind me and got stuck in traffic. Alas I also got stuck at a red light, and watched in my mirror as the guy got out of his mini van, filled with similarly beetle-nut-eating Taiwanese guys, and walked towards me.

With my crash helmet and shades, I was not immediately visible as a non-Asian, but as soon as he got to me, I turned around and - in English - said "WHAT?"

His face for an instant was saying "Oh shit - what do I do now?"

And then he made the mistake of having a go at me.

So I retorted in Chinese, green and red are not the same. You see a red light, you stop.

Beetle Nut Guy wanted more, and tried to shout at me. Rob remains cool.

"Red Light. Stop Car"

Beetle Nut turned and walked away. Tosser.

Last weekend saw a company excursion to the riverside park just outside the town of Ping Lin, famous for tea. As I had a client in, I was able to not have to wake up as early as the other guys. This trip was mandatory, as the company had given us 2 days off the previous week, instead of the one which was official from the government.

I had arranged to take my client to Shenkung, famous for tofu, and then we would head up to Ping Lin. To his credit, my client did not mind the ride on the Suzuki, so we went to see Mr Chen, whose food was once more simply fantastic.

The weather was amazing, and so we then took the mountain road to Pinglin, a ride of about 20 km, winding our way along until we caught up with the road that heads down to Ilan, hardly used now thanks to the tunnel that reduced driving time from an hour to 15 minutes. I called up the guys from the office, told them to find me, and we met at the tea museum.

I then followed them a short distance until we got to the others, where fish were being grilled, as well as bamboo and meat and all sorts of stuff I would rather not know about. Having just eaten, I was once more excused having to partake in eating this weird crap, which was just fine for me!

Given the heat, the office staff was all playing with water, filling buckets and trying to drench the others. Rob strips off the football shirt, puts the money and cellphone in a dry place, and jumps in to the river. Despite not having the finest body in the universe, it got the desired looks from some of the girls in the office, who were quite taken aback by this audacity from the foreigner.

Apparently Chinese - despite the fact that it is hot and there is a river in the midst - will not strip off to the waist. They rather get absolutely drenched and then uncomfortable. The sun dried my body afterwards, and so back went the football top, and I looked the same as before. Unlike a lot of my colleagues, who looked like drowned rats.

But at least they saved face. I'm just wondering how (if indeed at all) I lost mine

In this seemingly never ending saga of world leaders visiting our factory and offices, the third from an island nation, another of Taiwan's ever-shrinking amount of allies coming over, essentially made his way over to fill the few final hours of his and his delegations trip to Taiwan. Thinking we can get some more business from one of the poorest nations on earth by offering them products that the average population of the country could not afford with 2 months wages, more grandiose obnoxiousness and self-loving from the one who arranged and organised it was on the cards. Still no red carpet, but this time flowers and the presentation. Far from interesting for the president of the nation, mainly because he has already signed a deal for products similar to ours anyway, for which he will pay with fish and vegetables, as there is no money available.

Imagine that. And try to work out what our company is thinking by trying to get business there.

"Rob," came the command, "you will take the Q and A session."

This came as absolutely no surprise as the previous other sales manager had been fired in the most public of circumstances, sparking a wave of resignations. Admittedly, it was not the most discreet way of getting rid of someone, but with reasons that are incontrovertible, I personally feared not.

So after the presentation, the self-importance started, with a butt-kissing speech by the mayor of our town, followed by an arse-kissing speech by one of the President's delegation. It was embarrassing.

"Now here's our sales manager for the Q & A session"

"The what?" asked the President. Obviously a man who obtained his position through his ultra-high intelligence.

"Q & A. Question and Answer," the self-important tart said, hardly able to contain her obvious arrogance at such a stupid question.

As the president had almost been sleeping through the presentation and speech, there were no questions and so I got off scot-free. Another afternoon wasted though. Nice one. Off went the delegation, heading for the airport where they would travel home. The speed with which they left the complex tells me they were very very bored. no amount of additional arslikhan could make up for that.

Surely there could be no more presidential visits to be had? Please ... no more!

But instead of that, apparently comes the decree from one of our previous visits that they want to order our products. And with that, along comes a big order, the glory of which is claimed immediately by obnoxious, arrogant one. Despite the fact that the proposal was written by someone else. Modesty forbids me though from telling you who the author of this proposal was.

The main thing is that we as a company won the deal. So shortly afterwards, whilst obnoxious girl was still basking in the glory, when 2 large deals were closed by your humble scribe, and the focus of our company president's happiness shifted slightly, same girl did everything she could to make sure that my name was muddied. Alas for her, the plan backfired, because our numero uno knows where the money comes from. Someone is now looking very stupid.

There's something very wrong in Paradise. Now... is there someone who will pay the price?

A week after meeting El Presidente of the African nation, we received a visit from the Prime Minister of another. Mistakes from the first visit had been learnt from, and this time almost everything was better. Except they forgot the flowers. And no red carpet again. Thank GOD the person who organized it had done all this before, otherwise we would have been in some serious trouble.

 

After the presentations, both of them essentially saying the same thing, it was question time, and this time your humble chronicler was introduced immediately, perhaps my ability to answer direct questions proving beyond any shadow of a doubt my capabilities. Once more I gave the spiel about how we foresee the future cooperation, and when the issue of quantities came up, I suggested that this should be a matter to discuss behind closed doors. Our company president, who speaks very little English, was getting a translation, and I could see him smile when I made that comment.

 

It was decided that we would meet at the Grand Hyatt Hotel the next morning, a delegation from my company, led by my good self, to go through the points discussed and brought up during this initial briefing. So the following morning I arrived on time, my colleagues also getting there pretty much on schedule, the Africans – of course – being late, despite the fact that they were residing in the hotel itself. TAB – That’s Africa Baby. You can take the man out of Africa, but you can’t take Africa out of the man.

 

During the discussion, one of the delegation from this African nation asked me the question I knew would come, in some format or other.

 

“What will you give the ministers to motivate them to promote your proposal?”

 

I was not going to fall in to this one. I knew something like this was going to come, what I was not certain of was what format the question would take. My reply though was class:

 

“Surely leaving a legacy of helping to improve the economy of your country” (and by now I had already lost him) “and bring down unemployment is the ultimate motivation for any minister?”

 

Tosser.

 

After half an hour, the Africans decided they were hungry, so some breakfast was ordered, some tea, some coffee, and we continued talking. The discussion had to be cut short though due to other commitments, which they were of course already late for, and the sandwiches and tea and coffee all arrived just as the proceedings were coming to an end. Cue African anger and impatience. Typical – as soon as someone has a little power, they think it is alright to hassle the poor person who – through no fault of his or her own – happens to be in the way.

 

The Africans left, leaving the company contingent to drink the coffee and eat all the sandwiches, and your humble scribe had a word with the lady who had served us and been on the receiving end of the African rant. Thankfully I also know the manager of the hotel, so I said I would write to him and tell him the story. I know Africans – they would complain. Up from where they sit, right up there where they are so far detached from the real world, the real Africa, they forget where they have come from. All it is, is about lining their pockets and the pockets of those who they have to suck up to in order to keep their share of the linings of their pockets.

 

Ah the joys of corruption. Brought back memories of my trip to Cameroon back in 99. Arriving, having forgotten my yellow card with all the injections and stuff I had had. Apparently it was needed. I had forgotten. So theoretically I was not allowed in. But for a mere $20 I was given a brand new one, with all the immunisations I had had, as well as some I had not. Cameroon was seen as the most corrupt nation on the planet for 7 years running. Now it’s been overtaken – that does not necessarily mean the country is less corrupt (I would doubt that)… just others have improved on the system Cameroon works on.

 

You got to love Africa.

1 week gone. Seems like an eternity since she left. But today her spirit should return to my home. Some say that if she does not return to my dreams tonight then she is at peace. I like to think she must be. She is under a tree on Guanyin Shan. She has the birds, the view of the river. She has everything she had with me, but also her freedom.

Farewell Rainbow Goddess. Always in my heart, and in every tear I cry.

10:42 on 16th May 2009, Kahukura, the Rainbow Goddess, died.

Damn I miss her so much - just one day has gone, but so much is missing from my life. I had started writing a post about her, which I will finish and post later, but she has been such a huge part of my life for the last 9 years.

The vet injected her with an anaesthetic, then with the drugs that stopped her heart. My former girlfriend Emily came with me - she had looked after the kitten many times during my trips abroad, back in the day, and loved Kahukura probably as much as I did.

Afterwards, we took the kitty up Guanyin Shan, and buried her under a tree, which is what Eric the vet said is what should be done to help her spirit in to the afterlife. We found a tree that I thought would be nice for her, dug a hole, and placed her inside.

In to the hole also went the brush that she loved so much, a little button she used to chase around, a little mouse, a food bowl and a pouch of Whiskas  her favourite food. I covered her up, walked back down the mountain, and then went to the temple.

I've cried so much the last couple of days. I and other friends who had the pleasure of meeting such a precious and affectionate cat.

Rest in peace, Kahukura. You will always be my baby girl...

The new job is a little interesting, a little different to the way it was portrayed in the interview, but what company is not? Still, when you get a visit from a foreign head of state, wanting to know more about your products, it’s quite a boost to the ego.

 

With a youth program in place, it was down to our interns to present the company, your humble scribe being put in to the background for the moment, just observing. Not too surprising really, given the fact that I had only been there a few weeks. So the presentation was handled – was done not fantastically, but in a way that gained respect from our guests.

 

Alas El Presidente (for it is he) was not properly catered for – water merely in bottles provided for him, with no glasses, and plastic chairs that would make anyone uncomfortable, especially a fat, African dictator who stole power in a bloodless coup. The seats were changed before the guests arrived, but still far from the luxury a man in his position is used to.

 

After talking through the blurb, and planting in their minds a seed of thought that we want to have an office and factory in their country, El Pres spoke. The other sales manager was introduced, taking all the questions, but doing it in an Asian way. Africans though are direct. Asians just don’t like this kind of direct question and so the sales manager was trying to duck for cover.

 

Your humble chronicler was trying to make eye contact with the sales manager to tell her I can sort this, and after much looking around for some help from somewhere, she finally saw me and introduced me. I showed that I had done my homework on the country by stating facts about his reign as president, without taking the piss too much about the coup. Or the embezzlement. Or the corruption.

 

I have essentially found a new career path – one that would never have been thought imaginable back in my younger, more carefree days. Diplomacy has – miraculously – become my thing. I answered the question with all the information he needed to be satisfied, and just enough to make him realise that I do actually know what I am talking about, and got all the smiles from the top government leadership that told me everything I needed to know.

 

As they then went on to a tour of our manufacturing line, I slinked back to where I had come from, keeping a low profile once more as our company president showed the  Africans around. In typical African fashion, they were late (by a long way) for their next meeting, and after some frantic attempts at gaining their attention by the Taiwanese officials, it was off for a quick photo op.

 

But on the way out, El Pres is walking along, sees me in the background, and – much to the surprise of pretty much everyone in the office – changes direction to walk over to me and shake my hand. Yes mucker. I know you. He looks me in the eye, I look him back – nothing serious or threatening from either of us – just a mutual knowledge and understanding of one another. Just the way I like it.

 

Strange – other people were visibly nervous about being in the presence of this guy. I just looked down on him. Whereas he is the leader of a whole nation, he did not get that nation in a fair and democratic way, so why should I give him all the respect of being nervous in front of him? He does not deserve it. What he has done in the country is also not that good for all of his people. So in business I will show respect, on the outside, but the truth is… he’s just another tosser.

This one was composed for the Grecian magazine - in case we made the play offs. Getting automatic promotion instead means it is obsolete, unless used for the next season where Exeter will be playing in League 1!

Back to back promotions! Tis is a fugging hero!

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/paulfletcher/2009/05/ecstatic_exeter_scale_the_heig.html#080985

Back in my student days, I was attending (although that is probably the wrong word for it, seeing how many lectures I skipped) Greenwich university. I think it is safe to say my attendance record was poor due to an intense lack of motivation to study and a high motivation to watch City games. Most of the debt I racked up over my time “studying” was incurred by my travels to watch Exeter play midweek games.

 

One game at the Park was against Hartlepool, but I was running late (having made a rare appearance at a lecture), so I managed to get in 3 minutes after the game had kicked off. As I went through the turnstile, I asked if there was any score.

 

“Yes mate – we’re 1 up!”

 

Sure I was delighted, but gutted that I had missed the goal. Thankfully there was a second, which I did actually see. City won 2-0. That was probably one of the earliest goals I have (kind of) experienced at the Park.

 

As mentioned in my previous article, the Taipei Red Lions recently hit the Bangkok Easter tournament, and I was left rather red-faced after conceding the quickest goal in tournament history. In the first game of the tournament, 3 games were supposed to kick off simultaneously. By the time the other 2 games had started, 5 seconds after our ref started the match, we were 1-0 down.

 

Having been to many tournaments and seen players try to score from the half way line several times, I should have been ready. But I wasn’t. Standing on the edge of my 18 yard box, I have absolutely no idea what I was thinking. And as the ball was hit – and it was hit as sweetly as Ryan Harley’s goal against Morecambe – there was only one place it was going. Despite scurrying back for it, the ball snuck in just below the bar, giving our opponents the lead after just 2 seconds.

 

For the rest of the tournament I was on the receiving end of more than just a few jokes about this faux-pas, one that all goalkeepers make at least once in their careers.

 

On the final day of the tournament though, like Christ on Easter Day, I rose once more. This time though playing for the Taiwan Mongrels, who had lost players through injury, and asked for some ringers.

 

“Didn’t you see me getting lobbed yesterday Dave?” I asked the captain.

 

“Yes mate,” came the reply. “That’s why we want you to go up front.”

 

A sign of just  how desperate the Mongrels had become.

 

A goal down, and just a couple of minutes before half time, your humble chronicler (also the most rotund person on the pitch) had somehow lost his marker, and – from a pinpoint cross that even Moxers would be proud of, a header that was mildly reminiscent of Rob Edwards’ goal at Wembley. Although slightly further out. And slightly more powerfully hit. In fact, the only reminiscence is the fact that they both hit the back of the net.

 

The strength of any team is how they recover from the tough times. Exeter City has come through some torrid moments in recent history, but how many of our most optimistic fans would have dared suggest that the Grecians would end their first season back in the league for 5 years in a play-off place?

 

Tis and the bauys have worked miracles to get us here today, and I am sure I speak for all City fans around the world when I say we’re proud of you.