Rather than go through all the mundane details of my life in Beijing, I will describe some of the vaguely interesting things that have happened so far this term:

I bought a bike, like all students do here (except for Koreans - they all seem to prefer vespas). It doesn't have any gears and the shop assistants had to add in an extra bar to make the seat high enough for me. It seems to work well enough, apart from one occasion: one of the pedals fell off and I had to make the rest of my way to the university, pedalling with only one foot (it's impossible).

When I got to the university bike shop, the shopkeeper screwed a new pedal in. While I was waiting, an old man came into the shop. Seeing me, he turned to his friend, another old man, and said, "帅." ('Handsome'). His friend laughed and replied, "不帅. 美." ('Not handsome. Pretty.') What struck me most was that this entire conversation was only four syllables long. Pretending not to understand their little exchange, I took my bike and left. My bike's been robust since, but it won't be long until it gets stolen.

Charly, Lucy and I have taken up kendo (Japanese fencing). I was originally tempted to take up normal fencing again, but, having seen the introductory performance of the Peking University Kendo Society, couldn't resist.

Turns out it'll be a while until we do any real fighting - we spent the first few sessions learning how to sit down and stand up in the proper Japanese style (the longer your legs are, the more it hurts - imagine my pain). On the bright side we get our own bamboo swords and robes soon. The robes will even have our Chinese names printed on them, meaning '墨可飛'(literally 'ink can fly') will have to be permanent.

I have been tutoring a nine-year-old girl English. Her mother runs a company that publishes foreign language children's books in China. She told me that many Chinese parents are eager to make their children learn western languages, by making them read books in English, German, French and even Dutch.

When I first entered the room where I was to teach, the girl was nowhere to be seen. Seconds later, she ran out - she had been hiding behind the curtain. During lessons, she often hides under the table or behind her mother (who originally supervised every two-hour lesson). I have many more of these sessions to look forward to.

For pictures: http://christophmurphy.tumblr.com/