At the start of this semester, I was asked by the university I work at to give the students a pre-test, a sort of mock exam to establish their English level.
I live in what is often termed a "Chinese compound" which, unlike the "international compounds" of Beijing supposedly made to international specifications, is a simpler residence constructed to local standards - or rather the local standards of the 1970s.
The smell of metal under duress pours out of the kitchen. I race in, scoop the frying pan off the heat and dash it into the sink - only to be told: "You ruined my eggs!"
I got into a taxi one day after work and recited my address to the driver. The loquacious, middle-aged man with a pronounced double chin turned around and asked: "Where are you from?"