While I didn't ask for this teaching gig, and I by no means think I'm cut out for it long term, I am slowly beginning to enjoy it. Well, a little bit, anyway. The kids can be absolutely hilarious. As people, they're wonderful, and as students of English, they're entertaining. As overly tired teenagers, however, they're monsters. Regardless, like any other situation in life, you get what you give and as I am teaching, I find that I am also learning. For example, I came across this nugget of wisdom today and thought it would be nice to share :
HELPFUL TIP: When you meet new world friends, try using expressions like "Oh really?", "How interesting!" or "No kidding!" in a genuine way to show you are interested in them.
A Canadian living in deepest darkest Netherlands. Expect posts about life in a new culture, Celiac's disease, health, fitness, baking, cooking and my attempts at childrearing.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Where is that line?
If you really used to like going to see live music and hadn't had exposure to any, except Chinese opera, for several months, would you be tempted by a band that describes itself as
"often embrac[ing] odd time signatures, or odd phrasing, and we enjoy abrupt changes. Most of the pieces are dominated by the bass & drums, with the guitars pulling textures and occasional melodies from the rhythms. You can think of us as a 'Progressive Chinese Country Math Rock' band...or you can think us as a schizophrenic farrago of sound. If you can appreciate new kinds of music, or you have an eclectic taste in music, then you just might like what we are doing."
They aren't playing until April 7th, so I have some time to think about it. I think, though, that the fact that they throw in an occasional melody is the clincher. They're just going to be too tempting to pass up.
"often embrac[ing] odd time signatures, or odd phrasing, and we enjoy abrupt changes. Most of the pieces are dominated by the bass & drums, with the guitars pulling textures and occasional melodies from the rhythms. You can think of us as a 'Progressive Chinese Country Math Rock' band...or you can think us as a schizophrenic farrago of sound. If you can appreciate new kinds of music, or you have an eclectic taste in music, then you just might like what we are doing."
They aren't playing until April 7th, so I have some time to think about it. I think, though, that the fact that they throw in an occasional melody is the clincher. They're just going to be too tempting to pass up.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Karma, part two
I've never been a great student. That's not to say that I've flunked out of anything (okay, except for Math. I'm math illiterate and always will be.) but I've never really cared either. Very early on, I learned to walk that line between doing 'okay' but not putting in any unnecessary effort. Since I see almost all effort as unnecessary, it didn't take me too long to perfect this.
Consequently, I didn't go to school too often. (How telling is it that I went to school before big brother instituted all types of mechanisms to ensure that kids are not able to leave campus without everyone being aware of that?) I learned to know the difference between what I could intuit and what I would need to study for, and I learned to cram really hard at the last minute. Highly ambitious, I was not.
Nowhere did my skip class and intuit my way through the assignments manifest more than in English class. I like writing, and, not too be too cocky, but I don't think I'm too bad at it. I figure that I've grown up speaking it. I've been listening to it all of my life. And I like to read. How hard can writing be with that type of exposure? I have the basics. I know where capitals go and what they do. Ditto with periods. And I kind of have a grasp of how different combinations of words and sentences create different effects. Heck. I even know what effect means and what affect means. The rest of it was filler for me. Dangling participles, prepositions, complex clauses, erm....?
These were functions of language that I saw as something to simply get through. Fake my way through an exam and forget them forever. Well. I sort of did forget them, and wow, is it coming back to haunt me.
As we have moved schools recently, we have lost space and we have also lost a few teachers. Consequently, all hands are pitching in and that means that I am now in charge, not only of the library but, the development of grammar, writing and listening skills of 23 Chinese students. Somehow, it feels like the fates are having a good laugh right now.
Consequently, I didn't go to school too often. (How telling is it that I went to school before big brother instituted all types of mechanisms to ensure that kids are not able to leave campus without everyone being aware of that?) I learned to know the difference between what I could intuit and what I would need to study for, and I learned to cram really hard at the last minute. Highly ambitious, I was not.
Nowhere did my skip class and intuit my way through the assignments manifest more than in English class. I like writing, and, not too be too cocky, but I don't think I'm too bad at it. I figure that I've grown up speaking it. I've been listening to it all of my life. And I like to read. How hard can writing be with that type of exposure? I have the basics. I know where capitals go and what they do. Ditto with periods. And I kind of have a grasp of how different combinations of words and sentences create different effects. Heck. I even know what effect means and what affect means. The rest of it was filler for me. Dangling participles, prepositions, complex clauses, erm....?
These were functions of language that I saw as something to simply get through. Fake my way through an exam and forget them forever. Well. I sort of did forget them, and wow, is it coming back to haunt me.
As we have moved schools recently, we have lost space and we have also lost a few teachers. Consequently, all hands are pitching in and that means that I am now in charge, not only of the library but, the development of grammar, writing and listening skills of 23 Chinese students. Somehow, it feels like the fates are having a good laugh right now.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Guilty secret
When I first moved to Ontario, I was horrified by the state of my new apartment. It was filthy and I ended up spending three full days scrubbing it from top to bottom. Being from Alberta, where we clean when we move out and the are gauged by the landlords who take our full damage deposit for 'steam cleaning', it never occurred to me that it would be the opposite in Ontario. But it is - crazy province! To my Alberta mind, it seems totally backward, but there, you clean other people's messes and leave your own behind.
I'll admit, I was tempted. Who wouldn't be by the idea that they could live as they please and then move - consequence free. But, to me it seemed wrong. You just don't leave your mess behind for strangers to clean up. Upon vacating the premises, I fully intended to clean my London place when I moved out. Now, don't get me wrong. It's not that my apartment was disgusting (and believe me, I am now well familiar with disgusting); really, all it needed was a bit of polish. A good vacuuming, a bit of work on the windows, a quick wipe down of the freezer...nothing major. But...I was a student. I was working in one respect or another - assignments, networking (or, in other words, going away parties) until the last minute and was literally still packing as my ride came to take me to the airport. I just didn't get to it. I felt bad. I still feel bad
And, apparently, the universe wasn't too pleased with me either 'cause, boy, am I paying for it. Between late August and now, I have lived in 4 different apartments and of those, only one did not come covered in mold, dust, grease and garbage. A domestic goddess I'm not. I'm willing to admit that I'm a bit slack in the cleaning department. I tend to be a bit oblivious to the finer, dusty details, so you know that when I say I've spent a full 9+ days cleaning in the last seven months or so (and I do mean full - we're talking from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed), that these places are not fit for human consumption*. And every time I move into one, all I can think is that I brought it on myself.
Oh, and for the record, I leave them spotless.
*I would like to clarify that in the case of the first apartment, it was brand new and covered in drywall and dust only. In the other two, it was not because the recent inhabitants were filthy pigs; rather, they were filthy because there had been no recent inhabitants. The dirt that I spent (and continue to spend) my time cleaning is the dirt of ages. And ages. And ages.
Seriously. Karma's a bitch.
I'll admit, I was tempted. Who wouldn't be by the idea that they could live as they please and then move - consequence free. But, to me it seemed wrong. You just don't leave your mess behind for strangers to clean up. Upon vacating the premises, I fully intended to clean my London place when I moved out. Now, don't get me wrong. It's not that my apartment was disgusting (and believe me, I am now well familiar with disgusting); really, all it needed was a bit of polish. A good vacuuming, a bit of work on the windows, a quick wipe down of the freezer...nothing major. But...I was a student. I was working in one respect or another - assignments, networking (or, in other words, going away parties) until the last minute and was literally still packing as my ride came to take me to the airport. I just didn't get to it. I felt bad. I still feel bad
And, apparently, the universe wasn't too pleased with me either 'cause, boy, am I paying for it. Between late August and now, I have lived in 4 different apartments and of those, only one did not come covered in mold, dust, grease and garbage. A domestic goddess I'm not. I'm willing to admit that I'm a bit slack in the cleaning department. I tend to be a bit oblivious to the finer, dusty details, so you know that when I say I've spent a full 9+ days cleaning in the last seven months or so (and I do mean full - we're talking from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed), that these places are not fit for human consumption*. And every time I move into one, all I can think is that I brought it on myself.
Oh, and for the record, I leave them spotless.
*I would like to clarify that in the case of the first apartment, it was brand new and covered in drywall and dust only. In the other two, it was not because the recent inhabitants were filthy pigs; rather, they were filthy because there had been no recent inhabitants. The dirt that I spent (and continue to spend) my time cleaning is the dirt of ages. And ages. And ages.
Seriously. Karma's a bitch.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
One true thing
One of the best parts about travel is that it's a learning experience. You learn about yourself; what you are capable of and what the limits of your comfort zone are. Confronting the ugly Westerner can that lives within can be hard, but it's good to do, and usually I think we are surprised to find that we are capable of much more tolerance, generosity, resourcefulness and adventure than we would give ourselves credit for.
We also learn about the world around us. Being in a totally new environment forces us to interact with that world, and whether we really look for it or not, we still learn about the culture, history, food, art, almost by osmosis. Along these lines, we also learn practicalities that we may not have been aware of. Exchange rates, airlines that we might never have heard of. Our world grows and our knowledge increases, hopefully making us permanently better for the experience.
I don't know if that has, or will happen to me. I do know, though, that of all the things that I have learned on this trip, one will never leave me. It is important, and I would like to share it with anyone who comes across this blog....
Never ever. Ever. EVER ever. Ever. Fly Air China!
Seriously. Flying out of Shenyang, they delayed my plane for something like 4 hours due to a few centimetres of snow. Other airlines seemed to function despite the 'critical condition[s]'. I ended up in Beijing for 2 days. I was delayed an hour flying out of there to Kuala Lumpur.
On the way home, I was to catch a 1:30 am flight to Beijing; it didn't leave until 3:30 am. This time, however, I did not miss my connection as, conveniently it is also on Air China and is delayed 5 hours.
And, this is not an experience unique only to me. I've bumped into a few people and had emails from others. It seems that Air China just can't get the whole 'leaving on time' thing down.
So, if my experiences over the last month or so can serve any sort of purpose beyond my own self-growth, I hope it is this... Avoid Air China or bring a few good books.
---
Postscript : Since I was had a flight booked to Shenyang and then was planning to take the train to Dalian, and I had the time, I managed to get my flight switched (for a small cost) so that I flew straight into Dalian. It was scheduled to leave at 8pm. Any guesses on when it took off? Oh, I'll tell you. 9:30pm
Actually, pretty good by their standards.
We also learn about the world around us. Being in a totally new environment forces us to interact with that world, and whether we really look for it or not, we still learn about the culture, history, food, art, almost by osmosis. Along these lines, we also learn practicalities that we may not have been aware of. Exchange rates, airlines that we might never have heard of. Our world grows and our knowledge increases, hopefully making us permanently better for the experience.
I don't know if that has, or will happen to me. I do know, though, that of all the things that I have learned on this trip, one will never leave me. It is important, and I would like to share it with anyone who comes across this blog....
Never ever. Ever. EVER ever. Ever. Fly Air China!
Seriously. Flying out of Shenyang, they delayed my plane for something like 4 hours due to a few centimetres of snow. Other airlines seemed to function despite the 'critical condition[s]'. I ended up in Beijing for 2 days. I was delayed an hour flying out of there to Kuala Lumpur.
On the way home, I was to catch a 1:30 am flight to Beijing; it didn't leave until 3:30 am. This time, however, I did not miss my connection as, conveniently it is also on Air China and is delayed 5 hours.
And, this is not an experience unique only to me. I've bumped into a few people and had emails from others. It seems that Air China just can't get the whole 'leaving on time' thing down.
So, if my experiences over the last month or so can serve any sort of purpose beyond my own self-growth, I hope it is this... Avoid Air China or bring a few good books.
---
Postscript : Since I was had a flight booked to Shenyang and then was planning to take the train to Dalian, and I had the time, I managed to get my flight switched (for a small cost) so that I flew straight into Dalian. It was scheduled to leave at 8pm. Any guesses on when it took off? Oh, I'll tell you. 9:30pm
Actually, pretty good by their standards.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Achoo...
If Malaysia brought me back to those aspects of Western culture that I love and revel in, and Singapore brought me back to my bored suburban roots, then Phuket served to highlight all the things about Western culture that make me want to move to an isolated island and disassociate myself from humanity.
Thailand is supposed to be a fantastic place to visit. Beautiful people, beautiful culture, beautiful beaches, amazing food... I didn't care for it.
Just like there is no 'real' China, I'm sure there's no real Thailand. That said, there are always flavours of a country that seep through, regardless of where you go, but I'm pretty sure that in a place where the only person of colour in an given restaurant was my half-Japanese traveling companion, I didn't get it. The town of Phuket spreads across the entire island right down to the beautiful beaches marred only by the masses of red-skinned tourists sporting the unfortunate braids found in resort towns everywhere. Rows upon rows of streets full of shops, each touting almost identical shell necklaces, watches designed to stop within minutes of purchase and knock-off Billabong shirts compete with restaurants which serve less authentic Thai food than I've had in Canada. Who would have thought that Pad Thai could taste so much like spaghetti?
And, I caught a cold. It's hard to like a place that gives you a runny nose.
Thailand is supposed to be a fantastic place to visit. Beautiful people, beautiful culture, beautiful beaches, amazing food... I didn't care for it.
Just like there is no 'real' China, I'm sure there's no real Thailand. That said, there are always flavours of a country that seep through, regardless of where you go, but I'm pretty sure that in a place where the only person of colour in an given restaurant was my half-Japanese traveling companion, I didn't get it. The town of Phuket spreads across the entire island right down to the beautiful beaches marred only by the masses of red-skinned tourists sporting the unfortunate braids found in resort towns everywhere. Rows upon rows of streets full of shops, each touting almost identical shell necklaces, watches designed to stop within minutes of purchase and knock-off Billabong shirts compete with restaurants which serve less authentic Thai food than I've had in Canada. Who would have thought that Pad Thai could taste so much like spaghetti?
And, I caught a cold. It's hard to like a place that gives you a runny nose.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
A little town called....
My next stop was Singapore. I've been trying to think of something interesting to say about it, but really, I've got nothing. I had, not surprisingly, certain expectations of what it would be like. Seems I'm a little quick to jump to conclusions.
Singapore is, in part, famous for being a 'nanny state'. Gum chewing is a big no-no. Jaywalking and littering can incur some serious, serious fines. There is no smoking in public places and, of course, everything I read about it made sure to point out that drugs are met with the death penalty, which is regularly carried out. In retrospect, I think I expected a country of Stepford people.
There were a few indications that this is the case. Absolutely everything is neat and tidy. Unlike anywhere else I've been to lately, every single building had been painted within the decade. Traffic runs in an orderly fashion; not once did I see a cab drive onto the sidewalk. The lawns, trees, shrubs, flowers...all are immaculately manicured. Perhaps most Stepford of all, though, is the fact that there's very little else to do except shop. I'm willing to give them the benifit of the doubt on this, however. Quite honestly, more so than the strong colonial presence, shoopping may be due to the fact that Singapore is one degree off of the equator and if you're not inside and near an air conditioner by noon, you're either local or crazy.
Aside from that, there was quite a bit of litter on the streets. I was a few tourists chewing gum, and there was quite a lot of outdoor social gathering going on in Little India on Sunday night; another big no. I myself also jaywalked once; albeit at midnight on an empty street. I am Canadian after all. I can break the law, but only the small ones when they aren't really meaningful anyway. And I didn't take so much as an aspirin with me, so I can't speak to the drug laws.
Mostly, I would say that Singapore defied any expectations I had simply because of it's blandness. Or, maybe it's the 'if it's Sunday, it must be Singapore' syndrome setting in. I'm off to Phuket, Thailand today and I've never heard of anything but absolute raves so, if there's a litmus test for jaded traveler, I'm guessing that this is it.
Singapore is, in part, famous for being a 'nanny state'. Gum chewing is a big no-no. Jaywalking and littering can incur some serious, serious fines. There is no smoking in public places and, of course, everything I read about it made sure to point out that drugs are met with the death penalty, which is regularly carried out. In retrospect, I think I expected a country of Stepford people.
There were a few indications that this is the case. Absolutely everything is neat and tidy. Unlike anywhere else I've been to lately, every single building had been painted within the decade. Traffic runs in an orderly fashion; not once did I see a cab drive onto the sidewalk. The lawns, trees, shrubs, flowers...all are immaculately manicured. Perhaps most Stepford of all, though, is the fact that there's very little else to do except shop. I'm willing to give them the benifit of the doubt on this, however. Quite honestly, more so than the strong colonial presence, shoopping may be due to the fact that Singapore is one degree off of the equator and if you're not inside and near an air conditioner by noon, you're either local or crazy.
Aside from that, there was quite a bit of litter on the streets. I was a few tourists chewing gum, and there was quite a lot of outdoor social gathering going on in Little India on Sunday night; another big no. I myself also jaywalked once; albeit at midnight on an empty street. I am Canadian after all. I can break the law, but only the small ones when they aren't really meaningful anyway. And I didn't take so much as an aspirin with me, so I can't speak to the drug laws.
Mostly, I would say that Singapore defied any expectations I had simply because of it's blandness. Or, maybe it's the 'if it's Sunday, it must be Singapore' syndrome setting in. I'm off to Phuket, Thailand today and I've never heard of anything but absolute raves so, if there's a litmus test for jaded traveler, I'm guessing that this is it.
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