Gus Tate had a crack last week (June 3) at defining how his Cantonese students define "strong", and that might work down South.

Up here in the North, my Mandarin speakers have a different definition altogether.

I know I'm not a weightlifter, and that my muscle structure is not exactly going to win any prizes next time Arnold Schwarzenegger judges Mr Universe. But I, too, have been labeled strong.

Let's be honest, here, Li Min's cartoons are painstakingly accurate portraits of me. I'm a hefty lad, or, as South Park's Eric Cartman would say, "Big boned!"

So the first time one of my students called me "strong", it came as a shock.

I wasn't holding anything, I wasn't lifting anything, I was just standing still with a stick of chalk, standing on tiptoe to write on the top of the blackboard.

When quizzed, I got a stuttered reply of, "You know strong!"

And a hand gesture, you know the one, the one that signifies "wide load"

Now, I could have been insulted, and let it get to me, but instead I took the bull by the horns, and simply stated, "I'm not strong, I'm fat."

Yes, fat.

I'm fat, and I'm not ashamed of it. I used to be greyhound thin, one of those lean wiry chaps you see strolling energetically around the place.

And then I got old.

When you get older, your body plays all sorts of lovely tricks on you. Your joints decide not to work so well, and then other bits unilaterally move to pad themselves with whatever comes to hand Which isn't helped when the thing that comes to hand is cake.

Sorry to say it, but cake and I have an excellent relationship.

But I can't make my students see that, so I just tell them I'm fat.

Delving into the mystery of why well-rounded people are called strong was no easy task. My students weren't exactly forthcoming with explanations (I think that they might have been in shock from having heard the words "I'm FAT!"), so I turned to my wife, Ellen.

"Hmm. You're not fat. You're cuddly," she said soothingly.

That didn't answer the question either, so it was off to gently prod a few people around the place, and do some research.

It transpires that no one wants to hurt a fat person's feelings, so the euphemism "strong" has emerged to replace it.

After all, "You're very strong" is much more pleasant to hear than, "Are you auditioning for the role of Jabba the Hutt?"

Strong is also used to describe people who like a drink. I'm not sure if it's a measure of gastric or mental fortitude, but it's strange to be told, "My friend's very strong, he can drink three big bottles of beer without falling over!"

I make no bones about it, I need to lose weight, before I need six strong people to hoist me up in a pine box.

Lately, I've been trying to coax people into telling me the truth, as in "Put the fork down, porky, you're spreading out wider than the Gulf oil slick!"

During the summer, I'm going to make a concerted effort to lose a lot of weight, and get back to something like the lean figure I was.

It's going to take some doing, and I hope that I'll get the support I'd like from Ellen and those around me - before it's too late. After all, I'd rather be known for my strength of character, than to have people refer to me as "strong".