Send your observations of charva life to: editorial@newcastlestuff.com EARLIER THIS month I was approached by a young charva outside the Grainger Market, who asked me if I wanted to buy a china duck. I told him I had no use for Hilda Ogden-type ornaments, but he said it would make a good pet. He then produced a tiny, fluffy duckling from his pocket. “It’s a proper Chinese duck,” he said. “I imported it from China on the internet.” It was obviously no more than a couple of days old, so there was no way it had travelled half-way around the world. I suspected it came from somewhere nearer Newcastle. Not particularly wanting a pet, but anxious to give it a better home than his trousers, I asked how much he wanted. “Thirty quid,” he said. “Fuck off,” I said. His price was swiftly revised to a fiver, but a copper loomed in the background, and before I could reunite the poor bird with its family at Jesmond Dene’s Pets Corner, the charva was off. Marshall Hall Newcastle Stuff I HAD THE pleasure of spending five years in the North East before returning to the Southern Hemisphere last year. In my time in the Toon I saw a lot of funny charvas, but nothing tops the day I was at Gosforth Bus Station. It was a while ago but a tale I often like to retell to my Kiwi countrymen to illustrate the essence of Charva-ness. Girl at bus stop, about 18 years of age with two kids, one a boy of about 5 and the other a toddler in her pram. The boy kept staring at his (I assume half-) sister, until the mother said (between dragging on a tab): Mam: "Here man, why are ye friggin’ starin’ at her?" Charva boy: "Mam, when Shannon (the baby sister) got her ears pierced did it hurt?" Mam: "No and you're not havin’ yours done neither!" Boy: "But why mum, why?" Mam: "Because I've told ye son, they're for girls only" Boy: "No there not, boys can have them. Remember Dad?" I nearly cried laughing at the thought of her saying "Only vaguely son", till I saw the rings on her fingers and decided I didn't want them imbedded in my face. A classic charva tale, I'm sure you will agree! Bridget Cheesman New Zealand I WAS WALKING past the hostel at the foot of Westgate hill opposite the Tyne Theatre when there was a THUD! A charva had fallen two storeys from one of the open windows where he was blasting his Gabba tunes. He narrowly missed another charva pissing in a doorway. He got up, dusted himself off and walked round to the entrance, where he started bellowing into the intercom to be let back in. This leads me to one conclusion - he must have landed on his head. And there is a shattered paving stone to corroborate this From the desk of: Wolfman John I RECENTLY MOVED from the Toon to Vancouver, and a friend e-mailed your web address to allow me to reminisce about home. I have a story about charvas, although I'm not sure it is for publication, but it may make you laugh in private. A friend of mine moved up from Halifax to do his PhD at Newcastle University. When he first moved here, he didn't know the good areas or bad areas - and so rented a flat in Byker. One night, late on, he was on the bus back home when two drunken lasses got on the bus and sat behind him. In stage whispers they proceeded to tell each other about their respective sex lives with their latest blokes. The highlight of the conversation, and the most shocking revelation on a bus to date, was an insightful remark by one of the "young ladies" about anal sex. Turning to her friend who had asked, "if it hurt", she replied: "whey nah, a bit of butter and it gans in lush". Dr V.S.Conlin Department Of Physiology Vancouver, B.C. ME AND MY girlfriend where going to a Newcastle football match - I can’t remember which one. But we came out of the newsagents near the Monument after buying ten tabs and a scratch card. I'd already scratched the scratch card inside and hadn't won, so I was waiting till I got outside to throw it in the bin. This charva lad came up and said: "Here pal can ya lend uz a couple a quid so a can get to Gatesheed on the Mettie". So I gave him the scratch card and said “there you go there’s 3 quid on there”, and he ran in the shop happy as Larry - thicko !!! Kev Reay mansy03@hotmail.com