Now, this may seem a little vulgar. But I beg your patience. I’m here to talk up the pleasures of burping. As the father of a new baby, it’s a proud moment when I bash a burp out of her, especially a good dry one; there are no marks for puking the baby. But I’m here to talk here about the pleasure of the adult burp. You see, food that “repeats” is my kind of food; garlic or jiucai (韭菜) may only be a one-dimensional reminder of a good meal well had, but...

So I’m a red risk all of a sudden. It’s a shock for someone who’s conjured only green codes from so many apps this past quarter-of-a-decade. My red code will be a shock for some reading this, too.  Perhaps, blissfully green for as long as such colours existed, you just experienced a twinge in your buttocks, before remembering that, no, printed paper cannot transmit pathogens from some guy in Shanghai, and nor can an LCD screen. Mindful of the two negative results after my near-exposure and before my colour-slander, it’s not concerning me...

Let me tell you about this green tea I’m drinking. Laoshan tea (崂山茶), from Qingdao. It’s all a bit of a mystery. But, as these leaves unravel (slowly), I’m building up more of a picture. Let’s be honest; Baidu is helping out as well. This tea was a gift from a friend, who, like the tea, hails from Shandong,that peninsula jutting out from the east of China. It’s not North China. But Shandong is distinctly “northern” in tea terms; further north than Henan, home of the previous, most-northerly tea plantation mentioned...

When I lived in Beijing, students hoping to study abroad would travel half a day to a certain shrine, praying to receive an “offer”. They were practicing hieroglossia. That’s because they deemed the shrine’s name; 卧佛寺 similar enough to the English word ”offer” to place their trust in, or hedge their bets on, this place for a few hours of their lives. I was intrigued that students treated it as more than just a joke, more than just an excuse for a jaunt. I was curious about this geomantic...