Wednesday 12^th May, 2021 1800

Early yesterday morning I emailed Brenda to push for an answer on next year because, quite frankly, it's late considering term ends in a mere two months.

She called me after lunch to tell me they were awaiting permission from the Foreign Affairs Bureau to apply for a residence permit. The issue is that I am now at another deadly age – 65. Ere long the Chinese themselves will have to work until 65 rather than 60 as at present but for now this place is so ageist it's unreal.

Personally I expect permission to be granted – after all, since the pandemic Lanzhou has hardly been awash with foreign teachers and by denying me they would leave City University bereft of any foreign teacher. Tut tut. According to Brenda the school want me to stay although on their behalf she did plead poverty and tell me she could only get approval for a modest pay rise. I couldn't give a mosquito's bite for a damned pay rise, I just want that last year of work. If all I cared about was money I certainly wouldn't still be here after five years of freezing my scrotum off for 8 months out of 12!

Another reason I pushed was because I have also asked the faculty when I finish this term. If I am staying I have that long holiday planned but before commencing it, as a matter of some urgency now, I need to whizz to Shanghai for a flying visit (2 nights) to apply for a new passport 14 months early. That's because Brenda is panicking and says that as my current passport expires next August and they won't issue a permit beyond that date, she wants to apply for my residency in July. Clearly if I retire next year in July and want to remain in China that's going to throw up problems with timing of visas and the like. I am hoping that I can have a new black British passport to replace that hideous EU one well before I need a new permit. And of course once I have applied, start that holiday.

Anyway, bugger me but wasn't I sitting watching The Killing in the evening when there was a knock at the door. I've had a couple of “wrong numbers” lately and assumed this was no different. Until I opened the door to be confronted by two extremely tall uniforms and a plain clothes bod. This was not the same as last time when they had a clipboard and were doing the entire building. No, they were only here for me. Showed them my passport, offered my wrists to be handcuffed, they laughed and left. Brenda said it was a routine job because they were checking if I lived in building 7 or 8. Well that's bullshit because last year when Jody went to the Nick not 200 yards away to get paperwork for me she told them exactly where I lived. It all seemed (and still seems) too much of a coincidence.

Nothing ever stays in equilibrium for long here. Time will tell what happens next.