Ye Olden Days #3- Being Lynched

I hope the original author would approve of me reproducing this tale- though I was there and had a part in the original editing. These are true events from while I was living in Asia (this event was in early-mid September 2003) told from the original author's perspective.

Some names and places have been changed to protect identities.

Vicious Attack on Foreigners at "Olympia" Nightclub

Last night I witnessed the unthinkable.

I showed up at a new bar which had not long opened for business, Olympia, to meet my girlfriend. The bar was rather busy and seemed to be doing quite well.

At about 3am the music stopped. We were sitting at a table near the exit. About a minute after the music stopped, a waitress said we had to leave. I replied "I just bought this drink two minutes ago and we will leave as soon as I have finished it.".

My girlfriend commented on it being rather abrupt service ie- If you want people to leave, dont sell them drinks two minutes earlier.

All that aside, we decided to just drink up and go. I am a Canadian and I teach English here. I saw that there was a group of about thirty Irish men and women who went to Olympia together. They were also asked to leave the bar. I did not see any confrontation and watched them start to pack up and move towards the door.

As they were slamming back the last of their drinks and getting ready to leave they were singing the popular "Fairytale in New York" song by the Pogues. They were very happy and friendly, and my girlfriend and I enjoyed listening to them sing.

They hadn't even finished singing that song and five or six local bouncers started circling the group. I was starting to feel uneasy. Then I watched as one of the bouncers, possibly the supervisor, began instructing the other bouncers to go somewhere. They diligently went back behind the bar and came out with bats and clubs.

I could not believe my eyes. Were they doing what I thought? They completely surrounded the group of Irish and started pushing them out. They knocked over chairs and physically pushed them towards the door. I have worked in bars and I have never, ever seen anything like this.

I was in absolute shock. Olympia served thirty or more expats people many, many drinks throughout the course of the night., who were not unruly, out of control or causing trouble They probably took over a thousand dolalrs from that group alone. Then five minutes after they serve the last round of drinks, they come over with bats and clubs and physically begin throwing them out.

This would be enough to start a major brawl in many bars, but I was impressed by the behaviour of the Irish group. They actually did not start fighting. Several of the group were angry but were being held back by fellow Irish men. The Irish were taking their own people out of the bar- but that still wasn't enough. The bouncers started hitting them with the clubs.

I was sick to my stomach. I was disgusted. olympia places advertisements in English magazines and newspapers. They claim to cater to foreigners. This is not the case. They was foreigners' money, but that is all. The minute they get your money, you had better get out quickly or you will regret it.

Trust me.

This is where things started to get really, really ugly. I had not witnessed this kind of violence carried out by bar staff anywhere. As a group of six or seven bouncers, they began to follow the Irish onto the street, even pushing one girl with a broken leg, already on crutches, down the stairs. Once they got the Irish onto the street, utter mayhem broke loose.

I am still in shock. I cannot believe this happened. The bouncers started hitting the expats with clubs, bats, spraying the area with pepper spray and shooting a canister gun of some sort. About twenty of us hit the ground when we heard the first round of what we thought was gun fire.

One of the Irish guys was shot in the head. We first thought it was a real bullet and he was going to die. I don't know what they shot at him with, but blood was racing down his head, neck and body. I was frozen for a second in disbelief. There were people scattered everywhere and trying to run away.

I am proud of my girlfriend. She quickly ran to the aid of the man who had been shot, With the help of his friend, she tore off his shirt and wrapped it around his head tightly to minimise the bleeding. We were trying to get some help and to get an ambulance.

They did not care. Not one bit. It was the most disgracedful lack of concern for human life I have ever seen. They shot the patron in the head and looked at us like annoying insects as we screamed for help and an ambulance.

They were completely unfazed and demanded we leave, now from a public street. We managed to carry the man who had been shot to a Taxi and send him to hospital with a friend. I do not know what happened or what the outcome was- I hope that he is alive, as there was a lot of blood.

My girlfriend was crying and crying, with her hands and legs covered in the man's blood. She screamed at the bouncers "WHY?!"

The ppolice soon arrived on the scene. My girlfriend has so much blood on her that they thought she was seriously injured, and she was now hysterical. The police asked what happened and she replied "the bouncer from Olympia attacked the expats in the club with pepper spray, bats and guns". As she started to describe this, one of the bouncers came running over and said she was lying.

I had been quiet until this point, but I could not believe the gall of this bouncer. I shouted "look at the blood on her! Where the fuck did that come from if she's making this up?!". As she held up her bloodied hands, one of the bouncers laughed.

Apparently it was not just Olympia that does not give a damn about foreigners. I am not a fighter. I don't even like to argue. At this point I took it apon myself to get the name of this "concerned officer" of the law, as they started to dismiss the situation and refuse to file a report by a foreigner against a local. He wouldn't give me his name. If you get hurt in this city you will certainly not get help from him.

Some people one the street had noticed the events and were gathere nearby- I asked if any of them had witnessed the events. Several came forward, but still the police refused to make a report. I started taking email addresses from people. There were so many people lining up to give me their details- outraged at what happened. Not just Irish, as were mostly attacked, but other non- local asians, African people, Russians, Morroccans, Canadians and others.

Seeing this, the police officer became concerned, and started shouting at me "Get away!" and trying to stop people from giving me their details. His only concern is that I would share this tale with the rest of the world. In this respect, he was right. I am doing that.

I am a journalist. I report events like this. In the eyes of the officer, I was now the most dangerous person there. They will blame me for saying negative things about the locals and try to stop this, and so I will not give me name. They will not be concerned about physically attacking foreigners.

The following night the Olympia management met with representatives of some of the victims, apologizing for the incident and admitting they had overreacted. They also offered to pay the medical bills (thousands of dollars) of the people who needed their scalps stitched etc. The bullets were rubber, and although wounds were not fatal they did create some large gashes in flesh that night.

Needless to say, the loss of goodwill from the incident was considerable.

Ye Olden Days #1- Pronounciation is Key

I love telling a good story, whether you like hearing them or not.

I've heard that some of my stories are a bit like "this one time, at band camp", but shmeh- I care not- my reminiscences entertain me!

I'll start with one of my favourites:

Pronounciation is Key

I used to teach English in Asia. The classes consisted of various groups, one of which was an evening class of businessmen.

Given the group, I would teach themes which they would find more relevant to their use, and on one occassion this was a restaurant scenario, as when traveling on business it was a likely situation they would encounter.

I assumed the role of "waitress", and we practiced ordering items from a menu. After taking a first order of drinks, I moved on to taking their food orders.

One student in the class, "J", was in his mid twenties, as was I, and had been known to regularly get flirty, make jokes and generally play around. When it came his turn to order a meal, instead I was met with the following awkward situation-

Me: J, what would you like to order?
J: Please feel my cock

Thinking I had possibly misheard him (as you would- I mean, he couldn't have actually said that, right?)

Me: I'm sorry, I didn't understand you, what would you like to order?
J: Please....Feeeeeeel... My.. Cock!

Now undoubtedly flushing bright red with a mixture of embarrassment and panic, I began losing my cool and trying not to giggle.

Me: Errr.. What?! Sorry?
J: *gesturing* Please *lifts hand as if holding a glass* FEEEEEEEEEEEEEL *lifts other hand as if holding a bottle, to pour into the aforementioned glass* MY COCK!

At which point I could not control myself- both with relief and the sheer hilarity of the situation.

Me: OH!!!! FILL! Please FILL your COKE!
J: Yes- that's what I said- Please feel my cock!
Me: Okay... class- time for a pronounciation lesson!...

Eventually I did explain to him what he had said and, predictably, he responded with a wink and "Yes- *wink* please feel my cock!".

The other classic was when one business- aged- student, who was a Doctor, told me that he was "...a very impotent man"... and again the lesson ensued on long vowels and the imPORtance of prounounciation.

Almost nine years after the event it still makes me laugh every time I think of it.

Beating the Big C.

I was supposed to get my pathology results on Thursday, but instead they arrived on Friday. I understand that while the Drs probably saw the result, and thought that since it came back clear, there was no urgent need to tell me to book in for more surgery etc, as the "patient" and since it's my body, I would like to be informed in a timely manner that I no longer have detectable cancer cells where my adenocarcinoma used to be!

Anyhow, with that news now [eventually] received I cannot express the relief.

I've been at work full time throughout the process, minus a few days post surgery each time, partly because it's a good distraction from what's happening. At work on Friday afternoon, after receiving the good news, I was half laughing at myself because every time it struck my mind I got this uncontrollable urge to start crying. At least my desk faces a window/ corner, and not other staff.

I can imagine how that conversation would go (if seen crying by colleagues):

" Oh are you ok?!"

"Yes, actually... yes I am!"

*other staff dismiss as completely insane*

I think it's just that the "what if"s have been spinning through my head and weighing heavily for so many months now, and I've been trying to hard to hold it all together:  continue as normal, work, talk to people like a normal human being, not show what's going on -because I really didn't know, and the pressure of having to explain it to others might just tip me off the brink of "coping" down the other side (great sentence there I know, but I can't be bothered fixing it). And now all that is over, so the flood gates open.

There have been so many times where I've wanted to say something, scream at people, cry or go catatonic for a while. One situation was that a colleague was talking about her personal challenges trying to have another baby by IVF (her first two children were conceived by IVF as well). Comments like "last time they implanted two embryos and one didn't take, so to us, as Christians, that's a soul- it's the same as losing a baby, even though our one beautiful healthy daughter was born... and now other other embryos we had from that cycle have been deemed not viable, so we've lost 5 more children.".

Oh how much I would have loved to tell her to go jump- that I was possibly about to lose my uterus and any possibility of having children, and/or possibly even my own life when she already has two kids, a happy family and... and... just STFU with your self-centred whinging will you! I won't even get into the irrationality of the religious aspect of her "suffering" (today)!

It's funny how you can even feel like your cancer isn't bad enough/ good enough to warrant sympathy. The other day a friend announced she's now successfully in remission a year after having a brain tumour removed.... two days before I got my diagnosis. While I have been very fortunate to not have gone through radio or chemotherapy- just two surgeries to remove the cancer- I wouldn't say it's been easy or insignificant, yet I felt that compared to her, what I've been through is nothing and perhaps I shouldn't be celebrating my recovery as much as hers, or I'm less entitled to feel such elation perhaps.

All I know is it's probably a different experience for everyone, and I'm glad it's over for now.