Escaping the familiar Bruce Highway south towards Brisbane, I’d headed down into the Mary Valley. Stumbling on the village of Dagun. Intending only a brief stop. Perhaps a quick coffee. Nothing more.
Left a few hours later. Invited to the local school to give an impromptu talk to the pupils. Met by head teacher Jane. Then thrust into the lions den. For no question is ever off-limits to children. Tough audience. Great fun.
"Never tire to study – And to teach others" – Confucious
Explaining the relationship between terms like UK, England and Britain probably wasn’t the simplest of topics to tackle, but I was pleased we’d avoided plunging further into ethnicity, my knowledge of Angles and Saxons hazy at best. I’d been invited to give a seminar at Zheng’s English language school.
Some had studied English at University, keen to polish their skills, others still grasping the rudiments of the language. But all hugely enthusiastic. And joined by a couple of Pakistani medical students, studying in the city.
Lots of questions. Curiosity. Why had I come to China? What did I think of the country? Except for the medical students, and Zheng who’d previously worked as an interpreter, none had ever been beyond their own borders. That, I was told, was not easy to do. Red tape.
