I’ve been trying to fit some ‘culture’ in while I’m here, and this week that meant a trip to the ballet. I’m not sure that I’m cut outfor ballets, generally, to be honest – I did enjoy it but there’s onlyso much I could watch. My favourite bits were where they were pretty much miming a love story, which was phenomenal, so affecting. It’samazing how much you can express with just body language, especially if your body language includes seemingly unlimited flexibility in all your limbs and the ability to dance close to flight.

Last week I went to see my first-ever Chinese Opera; it’s an interesting art form. The singing is so shrill that it technically shouldn’t be pleasant but it somehow still is. Like Joni Mitchell, perhaps? The movement is slightly stylised, which is awesome, because all the actors are wearing wedged shoes and often flit across the stage like birds. The form is laced with vocalised inner monologues and dramatic irony, with one memorable scene featuring the lead male thinking (loudly) “Ah, let me hide in this grass!,” then his girl sing-thinking “oh, I have such feelings for him!,” then the boy again “ah! She has feelings for me!” but somehow the girl doesn’t hear that, I’m not really sure how it works.

I should probably explain. The story starts with a group of Buddhist nuns, then a beautiful girl joins their order, then a handsome boyshows up to ‘study’ at the monastery. I don’t think I’m ruining it for anyone if I say that the girl and the boy fall in love and that’s pretty much it, for six scenes, with lots of high-pitched singing. There isn’t much will-they-won’t-they because they blatantly will. The main drama of the first part, for me anyway, was why a group of religious celibates had put so much care into their hair and make up –I’m telling you, these were some ridiculously attractive nuns. That’snot a line I’d ever thought I’d write, but seriously they were great.

I guess my biggest question right now is why the true-love story line is such an overwhelming, almost exclusive staple of our dramatic storylines, apparently across cultures. Why don’t we have more stories where the obstacle the lovers have to overcome is trying to decide whether they really like each other enough to make it work, or if maybe they’re more into someone else? What I’d really like to see is an opera where the girl meets a guy and falls head over heels, decides after a month that it’s not such a great idea, leaves him for someone quite nice but pretty uninspiring, then spends the rest of the play quite happy with her decision and cultivating various interests in a wholesome but not particularly fervent way. Is that too much to ask? Surely all-or-nothing love is not the only kind worth staging.

My ticket for next week? “Assassins and Monks,” which looks to be anabsolutely disastrous movie, but hopefully in a good way. Will letyou know how it goes.