The monk came by and put the tiger's head in Perrine's lap. The tiger didn't seem to mind.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Panyee
We stayed a night at a guest house on this small fishing village. It's a Muslim village off the coast of Phang Nga in southern Thailand. Of all the places we visited, I liked this one the best. It was quiet and peaceful and while tourism is clearly the main source of income, the place wasn't crawling with people and it was very much an active, living village. People kept all their doors open and children ran around everyone. There were old women sitting on porches, mending fishing nets and fishermen could be watched dragging in their catches. The place we stayed was just a very clean room with a wooden floor and two matresses. The windows opened with shutters and no glass and the bathrooms were shared, the toilets being of the self-flushing variety, that is, you had to pour the water in with a ladle.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
So. I know. I haven't posted in awhile. BUT I HAVE BEEN BUSY! Really!
I am spending lots of time studying of late. Work. Study. Work. Thinking about studying. Worrying about deadlines. Work. And so on...
Here is something interesting from my studies:
Income distribution is measured using the Gini coefficient. A rate of 0.0 means that income is distributed equally across the population. A rate of 1.0 means that it's distributed exclusively to one group. (That's how it works in a nutshell, anyhow.) So the lower the number, the more evenly income is distributed. Sweden has one of the lowest. In 2000, it was .25. Namibia, in 1993 (the most recent report) came in at .707.
China, 2001 .447
USA, 2000 .408
Long live the American dream...!
I am spending lots of time studying of late. Work. Study. Work. Thinking about studying. Worrying about deadlines. Work. And so on...
Here is something interesting from my studies:
Income distribution is measured using the Gini coefficient. A rate of 0.0 means that income is distributed equally across the population. A rate of 1.0 means that it's distributed exclusively to one group. (That's how it works in a nutshell, anyhow.) So the lower the number, the more evenly income is distributed. Sweden has one of the lowest. In 2000, it was .25. Namibia, in 1993 (the most recent report) came in at .707.
China, 2001 .447
USA, 2000 .408
Long live the American dream...!
Sunday, November 06, 2005
We've got a scratcher!
I know you've got to look hard, but what you see on my wrist is a scratch. A scratch that has broken the skin!
One of my kindergarteners, Robert, wanted something in my hand and when I wouldn't give it to him, he grabbed my wrist and scratched me. I told the Korean teacher she explained to him, in the most patient of tones, that he cannot scratch people. He told him to say "sorry," but he wouldn't. He did manage, after some coaxing, to come up with "Lao shi, dui bu qi," the Chinese for "I'm sorry, Teacher."
One of my kindergarteners, Robert, wanted something in my hand and when I wouldn't give it to him, he grabbed my wrist and scratched me. I told the Korean teacher she explained to him, in the most patient of tones, that he cannot scratch people. He told him to say "sorry," but he wouldn't. He did manage, after some coaxing, to come up with "Lao shi, dui bu qi," the Chinese for "I'm sorry, Teacher."
Friday, October 28, 2005
Discipline is the foreign teacher's greatest challenge. Different cultures and language barriers, on top of the mysterious ways of children, make knowing what to do foggy, but as anyone who has ever taught, even for a very short time, knows, discipline is essential if you are to get anything done.
In general, for the sake of my sanity, I rule my classes with an iron fist. I have found (through intimate experience) that leniency resulting from the desire to "be a friend" and "make learning fun" is the gaff of a beginner, especially in Confucian Asia, where education is serious business and social lines are quite clear. And I know, that even at my strictest, I am nowhere near the level of fascist at which most Asian (especially Chinese) teachers rule. I have never hit a kid, and I don't think I could (although I understand now why someone would), but some of the Korean teachers I work with keep long sticks on their desks.
My least favorite class is my third and fourth grade "B" class (the classes are graded "A" through "D," "D" being the near equivalent of "gifted and talented" in the States, and "A" being "you are here because you are too young for prison"). As kids, the kids in this class are alright. They're pretty cute and pretty social, but as students, but for a few exceptions, they suck. They play, draw, talk too much, or not at all, sleep and take frequent trips to the toilet and clinic. We actually get very little done in this class, as they are slow to catch on to new ideas (go ahead, blame the teacher) and I spend much of my time telling them to stop throwing, eating, sleeping, drawing, hitting, kicking and talking.
Ron sits in the back of the class. He wears glasses, is always quiet and, except for when I stand directly behind to monitor his activity, he is endlessy drawing pictures of tanks, guns and people shooting each other.
I usually get to class a few minutes early and on Monday, Ron came up to my desk as if tell me something. But, instead of saying anything, he sticks his tongue out at me then walks away with a very slight smirk. I held back the laughter. To be fair, he caught me off guard, and it was pretty funny. I was going to let it slide until Eric, another student, yells across the class "Teacher! He --points to his tongue and then to me--you?!" The little punk me the butt of the joke (and let's face it, I have a hard enough time preventing myself from making me the butt of many jokes)and because of that, just to maintain some semblance of authority, Ron had to be punished.
The bell rang and I called Ron up to the front of the class. I pointed for him to stand just next to me and he knew exactly why as he instantly got down on his knees (as Asian thing). The whole kow-tow routine makes me a bit uncomfortable, so I told him "Just stand there and don't move until I tell you." And he did. For about 43 seconds. I turned back, "Ron, stand still. Put your hands down. Look forward!" He did. For a bit. And then I corrected him again, and this carried on for about five minutes until he finally gave up and just stood there.
Class continued and Ron stood there. It was my intention to keep him there the duration of the class, or until he started looking genuinely sorry, but when the class got into their readers, the kid started wiggling. "Ron, stand still," I ordered and then, for no reason apparent, Ron started back for his desk. "Ron...!" I started when, after two feeble steps the kid's legs went out from under him. He fell off the step (my desk is on a riser), and went down head first smacking his face, hard, against the corner of another student's desk. He hit the floor with a thud then rolled onto his back, tangling up his feet in the legs of student's desk across the aisle. I dropped the book and ran. "Ron!" I yelled. By this point all of the kids were out of their seats and hovering.
"Teacher! Teacher! You --drags his finger across his neck--him!" one kid yelled! "He's not dead! I said, allowing the notion to cross my mind, "Go get another teacher!" I told one of the girls.
Ron lay there and but for tears welling up under his glasses, he didn't move. The corner of his right nostril was clearly torn and started bleeding. And then gushing. "Go to the toilet and get paper!" I told another kid. I moved the desk he had his legs caught in out of the way and I put my sweater under his head.
Kids are really tricky. It's hard to know what they're up to sometimes. A stomachache might be a stomachache, but 70 percent of the time, it's scam to get out of class, and teachers bear the burden of having to act on what we perceive to be the truth. Having relatively little experience with kids, I tend to err on the side of caution, but this can often be the wrong thing to do, too, as the kids can and will take advantage of it. So with Ron, I was caught. He was clearly hurt, but the nagging voice of reason was telling me he was camping it up for effect ever so slightly.
Fortunately, two teachers from the next door classes came to my rescue and the kids rattled away recounting the tale in Korean. "Did he hit his head?" they asked. "Really hard!" I explained. I showed them what happened. The Korean teachers fussed over Ron and I ran out for more tissue as his nose was really going. He was up off the floor when I got back and the teachers hauled him off. I apologized profusely, but they didn't seem to think anything was too serious.
Needless to say, class was difficult to resume, but I got the kids back into their chairs and we finished our reading. Class ended without further incident and I went straight to my boss to tell him what happened. Ron was in there in the teacher's room, waiting for his parents, his nose held shut with a giant strip of tape, when I came in. He refused to look at me.
"These things happen," my boss said, much to my amazement and relief, "kids are kids." My Korean co-teacher (we teach the same classes alternately), Wendy, tended to Ron. I explained the whole story to her. Apparently, they all thought he just fell - the part where he was punished for sticking out his tongue at me was neglected somehow. "I see..." she said, which made me feel worse, like I was ratting the kid out.
After school, Ron's parents came. They were an exceptionally well-groomed Korean couple and instead of being pissed and litigious, as I feared (as any American parents would be), they were very polite and grateful for our care. Wendy explained the story and on the way out, much to my astonishment, Ron's mother smacked him upside the back of his head.
I was in the clear.
So from this ordeal, lessons have been learned: Korean parents are reasonable, kids are kids and the next time someone is naughty, I'm sticking them in a chair.
EPILOGUE:
Ron missed class the next day, but came back the day after with huge swathes of gauze taped to the middle of his face. I caught him drawing again, and took away his sketch books, WITH RESISTANCE.
In general, for the sake of my sanity, I rule my classes with an iron fist. I have found (through intimate experience) that leniency resulting from the desire to "be a friend" and "make learning fun" is the gaff of a beginner, especially in Confucian Asia, where education is serious business and social lines are quite clear. And I know, that even at my strictest, I am nowhere near the level of fascist at which most Asian (especially Chinese) teachers rule. I have never hit a kid, and I don't think I could (although I understand now why someone would), but some of the Korean teachers I work with keep long sticks on their desks.
My least favorite class is my third and fourth grade "B" class (the classes are graded "A" through "D," "D" being the near equivalent of "gifted and talented" in the States, and "A" being "you are here because you are too young for prison"). As kids, the kids in this class are alright. They're pretty cute and pretty social, but as students, but for a few exceptions, they suck. They play, draw, talk too much, or not at all, sleep and take frequent trips to the toilet and clinic. We actually get very little done in this class, as they are slow to catch on to new ideas (go ahead, blame the teacher) and I spend much of my time telling them to stop throwing, eating, sleeping, drawing, hitting, kicking and talking.
Ron sits in the back of the class. He wears glasses, is always quiet and, except for when I stand directly behind to monitor his activity, he is endlessy drawing pictures of tanks, guns and people shooting each other.
I usually get to class a few minutes early and on Monday, Ron came up to my desk as if tell me something. But, instead of saying anything, he sticks his tongue out at me then walks away with a very slight smirk. I held back the laughter. To be fair, he caught me off guard, and it was pretty funny. I was going to let it slide until Eric, another student, yells across the class "Teacher! He --points to his tongue and then to me--
The bell rang and I called Ron up to the front of the class. I pointed for him to stand just next to me and he knew exactly why as he instantly got down on his knees (as Asian thing). The whole kow-tow routine makes me a bit uncomfortable, so I told him "Just stand there and don't move until I tell you." And he did. For about 43 seconds. I turned back, "Ron, stand still. Put your hands down. Look forward!" He did. For a bit. And then I corrected him again, and this carried on for about five minutes until he finally gave up and just stood there.
Class continued and Ron stood there. It was my intention to keep him there the duration of the class, or until he started looking genuinely sorry, but when the class got into their readers, the kid started wiggling. "Ron, stand still," I ordered and then, for no reason apparent, Ron started back for his desk. "Ron...!" I started when, after two feeble steps the kid's legs went out from under him. He fell off the step (my desk is on a riser), and went down head first smacking his face, hard, against the corner of another student's desk. He hit the floor with a thud then rolled onto his back, tangling up his feet in the legs of student's desk across the aisle. I dropped the book and ran. "Ron!" I yelled. By this point all of the kids were out of their seats and hovering.
"Teacher! Teacher! You --drags his finger across his neck--
Ron lay there and but for tears welling up under his glasses, he didn't move. The corner of his right nostril was clearly torn and started bleeding. And then gushing. "Go to the toilet and get paper!" I told another kid. I moved the desk he had his legs caught in out of the way and I put my sweater under his head.
Kids are really tricky. It's hard to know what they're up to sometimes. A stomachache might be a stomachache, but 70 percent of the time, it's scam to get out of class, and teachers bear the burden of having to act on what we perceive to be the truth. Having relatively little experience with kids, I tend to err on the side of caution, but this can often be the wrong thing to do, too, as the kids can and will take advantage of it. So with Ron, I was caught. He was clearly hurt, but the nagging voice of reason was telling me he was camping it up for effect ever so slightly.
Fortunately, two teachers from the next door classes came to my rescue and the kids rattled away recounting the tale in Korean. "Did he hit his head?" they asked. "Really hard!" I explained. I showed them what happened. The Korean teachers fussed over Ron and I ran out for more tissue as his nose was really going. He was up off the floor when I got back and the teachers hauled him off. I apologized profusely, but they didn't seem to think anything was too serious.
Needless to say, class was difficult to resume, but I got the kids back into their chairs and we finished our reading. Class ended without further incident and I went straight to my boss to tell him what happened. Ron was in there in the teacher's room, waiting for his parents, his nose held shut with a giant strip of tape, when I came in. He refused to look at me.
"These things happen," my boss said, much to my amazement and relief, "kids are kids." My Korean co-teacher (we teach the same classes alternately), Wendy, tended to Ron. I explained the whole story to her. Apparently, they all thought he just fell - the part where he was punished for sticking out his tongue at me was neglected somehow. "I see..." she said, which made me feel worse, like I was ratting the kid out.
After school, Ron's parents came. They were an exceptionally well-groomed Korean couple and instead of being pissed and litigious, as I feared (as any American parents would be), they were very polite and grateful for our care. Wendy explained the story and on the way out, much to my astonishment, Ron's mother smacked him upside the back of his head.
I was in the clear.
So from this ordeal, lessons have been learned: Korean parents are reasonable, kids are kids and the next time someone is naughty, I'm sticking them in a chair.
EPILOGUE:
Ron missed class the next day, but came back the day after with huge swathes of gauze taped to the middle of his face. I caught him drawing again, and took away his sketch books, WITH RESISTANCE.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
The Scuttlebutt
I'm back in Beijing and for those of you not in the know, that means I was away.
I finished up the Puma gig in the middle of August, got back to Beijing, found a new place to live (it's awesome, by the way) and got set up with a new job at the Korean International School in Beijing.
Over the October 1 holiday, I went to England to start my masters course at the University of Sheffield, and after England, I went to the South of France to play.
Life is Beijing in good. I work a lot, play a lot, and things have become quite usual.
I finished up the Puma gig in the middle of August, got back to Beijing, found a new place to live (it's awesome, by the way) and got set up with a new job at the Korean International School in Beijing.
Over the October 1 holiday, I went to England to start my masters course at the University of Sheffield, and after England, I went to the South of France to play.
Life is Beijing in good. I work a lot, play a lot, and things have become quite usual.
Saturday, October 22, 2005
University of Sheffield
My new alma mater: the University of Sheffield. Despite it's noble and ancient appearance, the school I went to in Boston for my undergraduate degree is actually older by 25 years.
Carcassonne
From England, I flew to Carcassonne in the South of France. Carcassonne has an ancient walled city at its center (La Cite). The youth hostel is located within the walls and that's where I stayed.
Collioure
I stopped in Collioure on what became a two-day mission to see the sea. Collioure is a very cute, rather touristy town on the Cote Vermeille.
Cerbere
Cerbere is the last train stop before the Spanish border. I got off just to see what there was to see, and aside from it being quite pretty, there wasn't much. I was there in the middle of the day and all the shops and restaurants were closed. The harbor is very pretty and the beach is a pebble beach.
Old men in the park...
They invited me to play with them, but I was shy, and on my way to catch a train. (She must be Japanese, I heard them whisper to each other.)
Perpignan
Perpignan is the capital of the Roussillon province. It's Catalan country (Catalogne in French) and everywhere you go, you see pro-Catalan posters and slogans and flags.
These are posters for a protest to demand some kind of governmental recognition for Catalan people.
These are posters for a protest to demand some kind of governmental recognition for Catalan people.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Those damned A-rabs!
If little old ladies (I was accosted by a few) are any indication as to the average Frenchman's mindset, Arabs are on everyone's shit list.
"Abat les arabe" is something
like "Down with Arabs." An understandably irritated Arab with a pen turned the message's meaning against the French.
"Abat les arabe" is something
like "Down with Arabs." An understandably irritated Arab with a pen turned the message's meaning against the French.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
No rest for the wicked.
Without further delay, here are photos from this summer's internship with Puma. As mentioned in a previous post, my friend Benny got me the gig and the four of us, me being the only non-German, made our way through Hong Kong, Taiwan, Korea, China and then back to Hong Kong.
Superauditor!
So being an auditor requires stamina, speed, a cunning wit and a super accurate thumb for hitting the "on" button on the voice recorders. Daniel was in the zone that day.
Was hast du gesagt?!
This photo was one of the first to spawn our Puma Summer Internship "Oh Hell!" Campaign. (It's an obvious pun on the company's "Hello." advertising campaign. The model pictured is clad from head to toe in Puma apparel and footwear and is displaying items key in the retail shop auditing process: hair pomade, USB cables, cigarettes, various foreign currencies of various denominations, digital cameras, voice recorders, Puma item catalogues and an indignant mug.
Just like Mama used to make...
Whilst in Taipei, Benny and I cruised one of the night street markets. Stalls and kiosks open up after dark, and the streets are blocked to let pedestrians tend to their consumption. Far and away, my favorite dessert, quite possibly in the world, is Taiwanese shaved ice: nuts, beans and fruits smothered with ice slivers and drizzled with sweet milk. I'd only ever had the concoction in California and without dispute, it's better in the homeland.
Germans!
Daniel and Sara made up the non-Benny and Maile Puma team. Sara was studying Chinese in Beijing before the trip, and Daniel flew in from Germany. We were all quick to become pals and when I got back to Beijing, Sara let me live with her for two weeks while I sussed out new digs.
A silent 24-hours...
So instead flying back to Beijing, I took the slightly cheaper 24-hour train option.
This is a soft-sleeper cabin, and for about HK$900, I shared it with an older Chinese man who did not once let sound escape his lips. He did however, spend most of the duration of the ride clipping newspaper articles and pasting them, with notes, into scrapbooks.
This is a soft-sleeper cabin, and for about HK$900, I shared it with an older Chinese man who did not once let sound escape his lips. He did however, spend most of the duration of the ride clipping newspaper articles and pasting them, with notes, into scrapbooks.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Alas I have no photos for this post, but so much has been happening that an update, however literary it might be, is necessay.
I am writing from my hotel room in Korea. I have been in Seoul for six days and I leave for Beijing tomorrow. I am currently working for Puma (yes, like the shoes) as an auditor. My friend Benny, who is also here in Korea, got me the job and we, a team of four, have been touring Asia since the 12th of July.
The job's for a month and what we do is go into retail stores that carry Puma products, take inventory of what they have, poke around a bit to get an idea of the store's atmosphere and environment and then we go to the next place on the list and do it all over again. It's actually a lot of work as we also have to write reports (and I am the only native English speaker), but my teammates are cool and we're having fun. We started in Hong Kong, then we went to Taiwan (where Benny and I audited Hsinchu and Taichung, while the other two did Taipei), and now we are wrapping up Seoul. We do Beijing and Shanghai next week and then we go back to Hong Kong to compile and present our reports for the folks at the home base.
So, I hear you say, what has happened to the slick television job in Beijing? The short answer to that is: Chinese business. The kind that rumors are made of. As it turns out, the company hired me knowing full well that they were in dire financial straits. The money from a huge project we completed was supposed to save the day, and would have according to all accounts, but a newly hired manager ran off with the cash and now the office has been shut down and no one has been paid. As far as I understand, there is no legal recourse to pursue and no one has tracked down the manager since. The big boss, Jack Pan the Man, is apparently not responding to anyone and I have been told that my co-workers are owed up to three months salary. I am owed wages for about a month and a half and I have already decided that spending much time chasing after it would be wasted effort. Life must go on and I have learned in a most direct and intimate way that China really is the Wild Wild East.
In other news, I have been accepted into a graduate program at the University of Sheffield! Studies commence in October and I'll have to go to England for an orientation program. It's a MSc course in Chinese Business and International Relations and I will be completing it through the university's distance learning program, which I think is really cool, as I'll be able to stay in Asia while I work on it. Hee hee! I'm going to grad school!
The last bit of update is a sad one. My beloved Macintosh iBook has shit the bed and is no more. This happened two days ago. I took the sick baby to the local Apple doctor and they diagnosis they gave me was that the repairs necessary for a healthy recovery would cost more than the price of a newer, sleeker and sexier baby. Truth be told, the computer is not so new. I've had it nearly two years and I got it used from my friend Baron who had it for at least year or two before that. But it's still sad. And so fucking typical for this burn and churn society in which we find ourselves. Anyhow, Granny Smith is getting the heave ho and I've already decided to change parties and get a some kind of PC when I get back to Hong Kong. As much as I like the slick Mac design and the idiot friendly OS, in Asia, PC is really the only way to go. It's cheaper, there's plenty of software and plenty of support.
So that's me in a nutshell. Back to work...
I am writing from my hotel room in Korea. I have been in Seoul for six days and I leave for Beijing tomorrow. I am currently working for Puma (yes, like the shoes) as an auditor. My friend Benny, who is also here in Korea, got me the job and we, a team of four, have been touring Asia since the 12th of July.
The job's for a month and what we do is go into retail stores that carry Puma products, take inventory of what they have, poke around a bit to get an idea of the store's atmosphere and environment and then we go to the next place on the list and do it all over again. It's actually a lot of work as we also have to write reports (and I am the only native English speaker), but my teammates are cool and we're having fun. We started in Hong Kong, then we went to Taiwan (where Benny and I audited Hsinchu and Taichung, while the other two did Taipei), and now we are wrapping up Seoul. We do Beijing and Shanghai next week and then we go back to Hong Kong to compile and present our reports for the folks at the home base.
So, I hear you say, what has happened to the slick television job in Beijing? The short answer to that is: Chinese business. The kind that rumors are made of. As it turns out, the company hired me knowing full well that they were in dire financial straits. The money from a huge project we completed was supposed to save the day, and would have according to all accounts, but a newly hired manager ran off with the cash and now the office has been shut down and no one has been paid. As far as I understand, there is no legal recourse to pursue and no one has tracked down the manager since. The big boss, Jack Pan the Man, is apparently not responding to anyone and I have been told that my co-workers are owed up to three months salary. I am owed wages for about a month and a half and I have already decided that spending much time chasing after it would be wasted effort. Life must go on and I have learned in a most direct and intimate way that China really is the Wild Wild East.
In other news, I have been accepted into a graduate program at the University of Sheffield! Studies commence in October and I'll have to go to England for an orientation program. It's a MSc course in Chinese Business and International Relations and I will be completing it through the university's distance learning program, which I think is really cool, as I'll be able to stay in Asia while I work on it. Hee hee! I'm going to grad school!
The last bit of update is a sad one. My beloved Macintosh iBook has shit the bed and is no more. This happened two days ago. I took the sick baby to the local Apple doctor and they diagnosis they gave me was that the repairs necessary for a healthy recovery would cost more than the price of a newer, sleeker and sexier baby. Truth be told, the computer is not so new. I've had it nearly two years and I got it used from my friend Baron who had it for at least year or two before that. But it's still sad. And so fucking typical for this burn and churn society in which we find ourselves. Anyhow, Granny Smith is getting the heave ho and I've already decided to change parties and get a some kind of PC when I get back to Hong Kong. As much as I like the slick Mac design and the idiot friendly OS, in Asia, PC is really the only way to go. It's cheaper, there's plenty of software and plenty of support.
So that's me in a nutshell. Back to work...
Monday, July 04, 2005
Sexy...
By no means am I a fashionista of any variety, however I know enough to realize that this Chinese affinity for wearing ankle hose with skirts, shorts or really anything shorter that something dragging on the ground, is clearly a fashion faux pas of the highest offense.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
I am not dead, just exceptionally busy. The month of May was crazy for me: I went to Shanghai; I've been unusually social, of late; I've been teaching my kids the Huki Lau and spending hours cutting out little paper flowers for leis; I got a new apartment, and I got a new job.
I hope to expound on some of these topics soon, but until then, enjoy the photos.
I hope to expound on some of these topics soon, but until then, enjoy the photos.
Rock Stars!
Not really, but other people thought they were rock stars. The guy on the right is Benjamin, a German. I met him just before I left for Shanghai and he invited me to an art project where more than 400 foreigners got together in these blue suits to be photographed.
The suits they are wearing is what maintenance workers all over China wear. Not a single person I spoke to could explain the objective of the piece, but in the end, I guess it was just something to do. I didn't participate (not foreign-looking enough), but took lots of pictures of Benny and his friends who were willing and accomodating models. This picture is definitely one of the better ones.
Since then, I've hung out with these kids a lot.
The suits they are wearing is what maintenance workers all over China wear. Not a single person I spoke to could explain the objective of the piece, but in the end, I guess it was just something to do. I didn't participate (not foreign-looking enough), but took lots of pictures of Benny and his friends who were willing and accomodating models. This picture is definitely one of the better ones.
Since then, I've hung out with these kids a lot.
House Party
I had a house party this month. A couple dozen people, a good mix of Chinese and foreigners, crammed into my one-bedroom apartment and drank copious amounts of alcohol whilst trying to understand each other. It was a tremendous success.
Chinese people don't have house parties and more than two who came thanked me for their invitation saying "it's like a whole different world!" Go figure.
Chinese people don't have house parties and more than two who came thanked me for their invitation saying "it's like a whole different world!" Go figure.
Shanghai Holiday
For the May 1 holiday, I went to Shanghai and stayed with my pal Tony. (We met in Dalian last summer.)
It was a short trip and all we really did was hang out, eat, buy DVDs and fight the hoardes of tourists also spending their May 1 holiday in Shanghai.
Good times, though.
It was a short trip and all we really did was hang out, eat, buy DVDs and fight the hoardes of tourists also spending their May 1 holiday in Shanghai.
Good times, though.
Tony and I
The only decent picture of Tony and I from the trip came out blurry, so I doctored it up to look like this.
Tony's doing well. He's teaching in Shanghai and dating a local girl who's a journalist.
Tony's doing well. He's teaching in Shanghai and dating a local girl who's a journalist.
Oh we're going to a huki lau!
Children's Day was June 1. It was a big to do for the school and our department spent two weeks teaching the children songs and dances. There was supposed to be a performance competition and my boss made a huge effort to be sure that our routine was the most original and creative. Any ideas as to who came up with the Huki Lau?
The competition was cancelled in the end (we all suspect that the other departments caught wind of what we were up to and called the whole thing off), but the kids performed non-competitively.
Our kids made waves with their Aloha shirts, leis and skirts and for the most part, the parents were thrilled to see their little darlings steal the show against their uniform clad contemporaries in the other departments.
This is Lauren, one of my best third graders. Here is she doing an excellent job of hiding her protests of "Miss Cannon, can I go now?"
The competition was cancelled in the end (we all suspect that the other departments caught wind of what we were up to and called the whole thing off), but the kids performed non-competitively.
Our kids made waves with their Aloha shirts, leis and skirts and for the most part, the parents were thrilled to see their little darlings steal the show against their uniform clad contemporaries in the other departments.
This is Lauren, one of my best third graders. Here is she doing an excellent job of hiding her protests of "Miss Cannon, can I go now?"
Becoming a Young Pioneer
In China, you'll see most Chinese school students wear a red scarf around their necks. This means that the child has attained the status of "Young Pioneer," the party equivalent of having received first communion.
Up to rather recently, children had to prove themselves fit for the honor by demonstrating their academic prowess and mastery of all things Young Pioneerness, but now, especially at my school where the children come from affluent families, all of the students receive the title.
On Children's Day, all of our first graders received the stamp of Young Pioneer and in this photograph you can see the older students bequeathing the little ones with the red scarves.
The children, of course, take all of this rather seriously. If my third and fourth graders are any indication of what's to come, I'm sure the little ones will wait almost a week before they start wrapping their scarves around their heads, their waists and sucking on the ends until they're gooey and frayed.
Up to rather recently, children had to prove themselves fit for the honor by demonstrating their academic prowess and mastery of all things Young Pioneerness, but now, especially at my school where the children come from affluent families, all of the students receive the title.
On Children's Day, all of our first graders received the stamp of Young Pioneer and in this photograph you can see the older students bequeathing the little ones with the red scarves.
The children, of course, take all of this rather seriously. If my third and fourth graders are any indication of what's to come, I'm sure the little ones will wait almost a week before they start wrapping their scarves around their heads, their waists and sucking on the ends until they're gooey and frayed.
The new job...
So the big news is that I have a new job. I work for this man. The one who is not the governor of California. The man is Jack Pan and he hosts a television show called 21@21. It's a half-hour interview show where Mr. Pan gently grills pretty high profile folks such as Arnold, Nicole Kidman, Yoko Ono, Madeline Albright...
My official title is PRODUCTION ASSOCIATE and what I do is help with research, offer input during question drafting and I make sure that all correspondences leaving the office are well-crafted and Chinglish free.
If you want to read something about my new boss and the show, checkout these links:
http://www.cityweekend.com.cn/en/features/2005_08/S1113877953
http://www.fredonia.edu/department/communication/schwalbe/chinalk.htm
Imagine that. I'm back in the media and in China of all places.
My official title is PRODUCTION ASSOCIATE and what I do is help with research, offer input during question drafting and I make sure that all correspondences leaving the office are well-crafted and Chinglish free.
If you want to read something about my new boss and the show, checkout these links:
http://www.cityweekend.com.cn/en/features/2005_08/S1113877953
http://www.fredonia.edu/department/communication/schwalbe/chinalk.htm
Imagine that. I'm back in the media and in China of all places.
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