Don't feed the tigers – A short story by Josh Stenberg

THIS STORY FIRST APPEARED IN HALITERATURE

My editor signed off on the tiger story right away. “Yes, yes and yes again. Finally, you’re getting the hang of it. Endangered species, big scary-slash-noble cat, conservation, Chinese corruption—all of these are humdingers. Go for it. Way better than the poor-factory-conditions stuff you’re always trying to pull. Be sure to get a picture of a tiger roaring or something. Smiling tourists, taunting a cub or whatever. You know what works; you know what the public likes, ergo you know what I like. Things red in tooth and claw.”

I had proposed the topic after reading about the tiger park in a Chinese newspaper fluff piece, and now I searched the Internet to see what was current on the subject in the Anglo press.

 

偷吃还不知道怎么擦嘴" (tōuchī hái bùzhīdào zěnme cāzuǐ). This expression means you steal food (偷吃 tōuchī) but don’t know how to wipe your mouth clean afterwards (擦嘴 cāzuǐ), and is used to disparage someone sneaky enough to do the wrong thing but not smart enough not to get caught.

For example, I heard it used in response to a joke that's going around on the Chinese Internet about the MH370 missing flight. In the joke, someone asks help for a friend who went to visit his girlfriend, but told his wife he was going on a business trip to Malaysia, returning on MH370. Since the disappearance of the flight, the friend has been hiding out in a hotel and doesn’t know what to do, does anyone have any ideas?"

 

The hangover has faded, but the memories remain – of the first half of the night, at least. Writers and Rum, a storytelling evening with nine Anthill writers and nine hand-picked rums, in collaboration with Badr Benjelloun and Cuju bar on April 16, was a blast (see pictures from the night here). If you missed out, fear not! – you can now listen to a recording of the stories, which has been released as a Creamcast over at Beijing Cream, and is embedded below.

Plus a special bonus: During the night Hudson Lockett, co-host of the excellent China Hang-up podcast, was drawing sketches of the authors (unbeknownst to us, or we would have tried to look more intelligent and less drunk). Here are those sketches, along with bios of the authors and time markers for their stories – five of which have now been published on the site – so you don't get lost. Happy listening!

A fable from expat pond life – by Carlos Ottery

 

Some thought Leroy a loser. Honestly, he was probably more of a drunkard than anything, but first and foremost Leroy considered himself a DJ. Sure, he wasn’t averse to moonlighting as a language teacher for extra cash. After all, what was the point of speaking English if you couldn’t spread the love a little, now and then?

In fact, Leroy was doing rather well for himself, pulling in about 7000 kuai a month from the Old Oriental Learning Centre alone. And his income could easily jump up to nine or even 13K if he factored in the DJing, not to mention the bits of journalism, and the copy editing he did for hotel brochures. Let’s put it this way, Leroy had no problem getting a round of beers in.

A poem for lovers (and haters) of single malts – by Anthony Tao

 

To clean up a bottle of good whisky

        you have to get your hands dirty.

                Never mind how

seven hundred milliliters of Aberlour

        crashed onto my quarry-tile floor,

where it cried in the grief of shore widows

        an elegy for sea salt, shire boughs,

                        and citrus notes.

Inspire with the nose of the finger

        saturated earth off the burn,

the spirit of the air in highland mist.

        Tactile perception is truest.