I Almost Worked for a Cult 29

Mao, Mao, don’t commit forgery!

Documents required to work in China that we had:

  • Degree scan
  • Police certs
  • Full medical
  • CV
  • Written references
  • Photos of us together (weird, but ok)

Documents required to work in China that we did not have:

  • AIDS tests
  • Chest x-rays

AIDS tests. Ok, they might be difficult to obtain. Where would you start to even find out how you’d get one done in Korea? It seemed to me like the kind of thing they’d deport you for over there.

“Hello, I, a foreigner, would like to apply for an AIDS test please.” I pictured two strong men injecting me with a heavy sedative and coming to in Heathrow. Why Heathrow? Well, the cunts would more than likely assume I was English, like everyone else in this country did.

The school had supplied a further medical questionnaire to be filled in by our doctor that would answer some fairly specific questions about our medical backgrounds. They were looking for history of debilitating diseases, mental health problems in the family, and counter-revolutionary tendencies. Ok, I made the last bit up.

I was going to have to engage an agent back in the home country to help us with this. Double O Mammy. Well, my mother. She was going to ask the family GP to fill the documents in for us and try get a negative AIDS test while she was at it.

It was a huge disaster. Mam tested positive for AIDS! Ah no, the doctor was terrified of creating an international incident, and would not fill in the forms without speaking to myself and herself first. I suspected there wouldn’t have been an issue if a large sum of cash was involved.

We were at an impasse. If an Irish doctor wouldn’t help, and a Korean doctor was out of the question, well then maybe forgery was the only answer?

I could mimic the signature of the doctor that had signed our original medical documents. However, my colouring skills did not include the ability to mimic a stamp from their surgery. Also, how the fuck can you forge a chest x-ray? Herself was good at art, maybe we could get some black photographic paper and white paint and draw a skeleton.

No, it was a ridiculous idea. The documents had to be brought by a family member to the Chinese embassy in Dublin for approval. We’d be hanging them, it wasn’t worth the risk. I can’t imagine my mam doing well in a Chinese jail. Dad on the other hand, he’d probably end up starting and coaching a GAA club made up of political prisoners.

No, the Chinese dream was over. Cambodia, we’d try Cambodia.

Next time: We try Cambodia