一，二，三，死，五

My new, disimproved teaching timetable has afforded me the opportunity (i.e. forces me to be awake in time to) witness the students' daily exercise routine. It's something I've wanted to see for a long time, and what teacher wouldn't be attracted by the sight of his young charges being forced to march in unison for the glory of country and good posture?

The bell at ten past nine signals the two thousand or so kids to stream from their classrooms like a colony of shell-suited lemmings towards their daily constitutional, accompanied by music that sounds bizarrely similar to Liberty Bell – better known as the Monty Python theme music. Within minutes, every available square foot of space outside is covered by files and ranks of kids.

We've all seen it on television from various communist regimes across the world; the propensity for, and proficiency in, marching. Communism may have failed in its Leninist ideals, but one thing it can be relied upon for is some synchronised stamping of the first order. I think North Korea leads the world on this one, but with China a close second, so I was expecting a military style drill from the kids. No tanks though, eh?

So it was pleasant to see a display not of a well-oiled auxilliary fighting force to be, but exactly the kind of listless efforts you'd expect from a group of sixteen to eighteen year olds forced to go through the motions of the ridiculous routine they've probably had to endure since the age of four. Some put in even less effort on seeing me trying my hardest to twist my mocking grin into a big smile of encouragement.

Yes, the entire thing is pointless as a workout. It only lasts for ten minutes, and I've seen more strenuous moves enacted by the ninety-year-old tai chi practitioners. But its value to me was as a display in collective realisation of the practice's own inherent ridiculous, and an insight into the at times refreshingly cynical perspective some of these kids have. No zealous exercising for good of the nation here; just the kind of half-arsed effort you'd see in a UK comp.

Not that being anything like a British school is a good thing; just that there are far more parallels than one sometimes realises. Ask any of the kids, or even the teachers, for their thoughts on the value of the collective exercise periods, and they will probably laugh and tell you not much.
Which gives me the suspicion that the whole thing is part of the Chinese sense of humour - one big joke, endured by the kids, who in turn will have the pleasure years from now sagaciously witnessing their own offspring going through the whole rigmarole.

While taking over the world.