Yan lowered her head and, wearily, looked at her dust-covered shoes as she followed a group of children. She was hungry and wanted to get home as soon as possible after school, but the fear of passing the group and being ridiculed by them settled her small feet into a steady plod. Read more…

After all the fights on my "Are You a Player?" article, I still have some truculence left in me and want to talk about the same topic–SEX. John, I don't mean to start the Second CLM War here with this blog, but I feel that I need to talk about a problem that had been bugging me since I visited my current Chinese girlfriend for the first time. Read more…

"Are you a player?" A Chinese woman had asked me this question a long time ago when we talked on QQ one day. Read more…

I've been wondering, for a while now, about who's going to write an article about the perils lurking in the west or, in fact, in the entire world. There are a great number of people who are willing to follow their dreams and start new lives in a foreign country. So, this is my motivation for thinking that people, including Chinese and Asian ladies, should know a few things about their desired countries and the perils of the world. Read more…

Steam rose from the cups, floating slowly in the air, certainly not making my room warmer but surely making it look comfier. After I had set them down on the table, Kristy picked one of them up, drew her knees up into my oversized hoody that she had put on after we both had realized she was freezing because of the dank towel and nestled herself cozily into her chair. She looked like she was ready to watch a movie. The only thing that seemed to be missing was a bucket of popcorn–preferably with butter, (I guessed)–for her utter and complete comfort. Read more…

And there she was, coming through the door and closing it quietly after she had taken a shower. The big towel was wrapped tightly around her body–her clothes were still in the dryer, spinning in the hot air, just like my thoughts spun in my overheated head, quickly and urgently and in need of a cool-down cycle. I sat in a chair in my dry clothes and added to my attire a guitar, setting on my lap as protection (a cooling system) between me and her hot body. Read more…

There was a short interval of nervous silence after Kristy had sat down. Neither of us knew what to say or how to start. It was as if we were back in kindergarten where if a boy liked a girl, instead of saying something nice to her–even a simple “hi” would've done the job at that age–he just pulled her pigtails and ran away with a nervous laugh. Well, Kristy didn't have pigtails to pull, so I didn't run away; I just smiled at her nervously and asked, “Do you remember me?” Read more…

    I stepped closer. I didn't know the other girl, but I saw right away she was in bad shape. Read more…

    The week leading up to Marika's birthday was long and stiflingly hot. No one believed me in my family when I told them how hot the weather was in Toronto. For a few weeks, around July and August in every year, the mercury hit 35 and didn't go under 30, even at night time. People, especially elderly people, sought refuge in shopping malls if they didn't have air conditioners at home. Young people went to the beach for a dip (or two) and tried to enjoy their youth under the blazing sun. Read more…

   My winning prize came on a sweltering summer day, on the weekend. I had to work in the restaurant from noon to 11pm on Saturday and Sunday as well. I was tired. The weather was humid. The kitchen was boiling. My hands were in hot water for hours and hours. We were extremely busy. By the time the restaurant slowed down, everybody was exhausted. I was packing the final load of plates up into the dishwasher after lunch when I heard one of the waitresses from behind saying, Read more…