I had a response to an application from a school in China. A school in Shanghai was considering me for a September start. This was more than exciting – I felt that I was getting somewhere and despite my age I was still employable, at least by a school in China. Shanghai – who wouldn’t be entranced by the oriental mystery that is Shanghai?
It’s a name that conjures up a million images, mostly stereotyped and hackneyed images of pigtailed coolies pulling rickshaws, while beautiful black haired Chinese girls in qipao’s lounge in the seat smoking, and looking sexy and exotic while the sharp suited Westerner shouts at the locals. All in sepia tones, because for some reason, my daydreams of Shanghai were all set in the 1930’s.
But I was offered another option – Mongolia. My inner adventurer told me straight away to choose Mongolia. For me it was the place to go, I mean who wouldn’t want to choose Mongolia – Inner or Outer? The wide-open steppes and grasslands dotted with yurts and gers, Genghis Khan, men on horse back playing ‘polo’ with a decapitated goat.
But first I had to start to think about the process of getting my Chinese Visa which meant a visit to the doctor to pay for a medical.