24 hours in Xi'an

China is strange. Really, really strange. I regularly wonder what on earth I am doing here. I often feel like I'm in an upside down dream. Sometimes it's a nice feeling, sometimes not. The last 24 hours have just been ridiculous.

I've been thinking of, next term, not going back to study at the university. The teaching is so bad, but more importantly they've raised the tuition fee. For a very simple reason, I should be paying the lower fee from before, but they don't agree. Trying to sort this out is almost impossible. I agreed to meet someone from the office to talk about it, and he just didn't turn up. I phoned him and he said he went out. Hiding from problems rather than dealing with them is really common, and it drives me nuts. What I also find strange, is that when I go in there to ask about this problem, they always pretend this is the first time they've heard it, even though I've spoken to them a few times about it. It's so strange.

So I go to a Chinese language school nearby, where I've been looking to study instead. I wanted to make sure that I could change study places without his affecting my visa. So it's a simple question - Can I legally study in this school? Did I get a simple answer - of course not. Eventually, I get to speak to the boss. She first says, yeh, no problem. But when I pressed her for written proof of this, she started changing tack. It turns out she has no idea about this. She also said it would be better not to tell the university I won't be going back, and suggested I tell them I'm sick, or going travelling with my mother for 4 months. It's so strange - does she really think this is an acceptable solution? Two minutes before, she had said to me, 'I never lie, I'm very honest, bla bla bla'. And then right after she suggests I tell the university a ridiculous lie.

I find this often happens when I talk to people. To start with, everything seems so straight forward. But the more simple questions asked, the more it turns out they are either lying, or don't have the foggiest idea what they are talking about. Also, a lot of people are terrible liars - you can normally rumble them after 5 minutes, and a lot of the people who have lied to me have this habit of laughing and smiling as they lie, so they give themselves away. I'm sure this sounds all rather rude, but I'm just describing my experiences.

So now I have this potentially big problem. I have to go to the Public Security Bureau on Monday to ask them if I can change study places. With the university so far continuing to act without a shred of decency and a huge amount of greed, laziness and stupidity, and this new school seemingly not a whole lot better in terms of how they deal with things, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.

So after talking to all these idiots, it was 5 o'clock. Not being in the mood for study, I dropped in to a local bar where I know the bartender. I have a couple of beers, spend most of the time feeling Mao ZeDong's shirt collar on 100 yuan notes to see if they are fake, then head home. Then my German flatmate - Clemens - gives me a call. He says he's had a strange afternoon, and is currently on his way to a club with several random people, they're paying, and do I want to come. I say sure, why not.

Afterwards, I realise why not. I've been to clubs once or twice before in China. It's mostly people sitting around eating watermelon, but still with exceptionally loud music. So before I go I think it would be a good idea to buy a small bottle of baijiu - Chinese vodka - and polish it off on the bus into town. Mistake number One. Baijiu, it turns out, is much stronger than I thought, and my alcohol tolerance has evidently plummeted recently.

So I'm walking to the spot where Clemens was waiting for me. And standing next to him is probably the most attractive girl I've ever seen. According to what Clemens said this morning, my jaw nearly hit the floor when I saw her. Also, wearing board shorts and flip flops probably wasn't the cleverest - mistake number 2.

We go into the club, which seemed to be full of young woman, moneyed middle aged men and the occassional foreigner. Clemens' friends and their friends - mostly fat men - were sitting round a table, where one of some had bought a huge bottle of whiskey or something like that. Seeing as I wasn't paying for it, I had a glass or two (or three) - mistake number 3.

From here on, my recollection is hazy and I was informed of it this morning. This guy wearing fur trousers and a small fur waistcoat came along, and was playing a varient of 'rock-paper-scissors' with these friends for some of the evening. It was quite a good evening, I think. After some time, me, Clemens, and some other people leave and are outside. Apparently, some guy comes out and I started doing my 'Robert DeNiro-in-the-film-Casino' impression, which involves a lot of finger pointing and liberal use of the F word. Mistake number 4. I don't know why he warranted such a talking to, Clemens said he didn't do anything. And as it was his expensive drink we had been drinking and everyone probably now thinks I'm Joe Pesci, I currently feel particularly stupid.

Next thing I know I wake up this morning, still rather drunk. In the flat is XiaoMing - Chinese flatmate - talking to some random guy in the balcony with the door closed, two random girls (XiaoMings classmates) who have been living in our flat for a couple of days sitting on the sofa eating what looked like gruel, and some other random guy in the other Chinese flatmates's room. As usual, I have no idea what's going on. This feeling is normally quite interesting, but with a hangover, it isn't, particularly when you can't for the life of you get hold of a cheese and bacon toastie.