The security at my school has increased this year. There are a lot more locked doors nowadays, and getting them opened can sometimes be a trial. There is nothing more obdurate than bureaucracy, nothing more intractable as people who accept senseless orders, and nothing more frustrating to someone who does not.
I teach a computer class, and one day I was told that we couldn't use the computer lab because the teacher who had the key was sick in bed at home. My Chinese assistant kept saying this to me, and didn't see the insanity of the statement that because one man was sick, everyone else had to suffer. So I had to go to the head teacher to arrange for the computer lab to be opened. It just seemed to me that somebody must have an extra key somewhere.
And so they did.
And so we had access to the lab for our class, as usual.
Sometimes I roll my eyes.
The dorms, where the students and some teachers have rooms, are also locked up, even more than they were last year. The doors are padlocked with chains around the handles, which makes me wonder what would happen if some students were trying to get out because of an emergency. I shudder to think.
Anyway, I need to get into the room I was given in order to put medicine on my bad skin. I'm seeing a doctor who has prescribed some traditional herbal ointment to rub on my eczema. It's doing the job slowly but surely. I usually put the stuff on after lunch, when the students have to take a nap. The doors are open, and access is freely granted.
Except on Friday, the day the students go home. They take their suitcases out and store them in the departmental office in the morning, so someone decided there's no need to open the dorms after lunch.
I have to get one of the Chinese teachers to call the attendant in order to get the door opened. And then I have to get another call put in when I want to be let out.
The guards at the school are a friendly crew, and they're always helpful when called upon. I always felt safe when I was living at the school, and I know they'll always take care of me and the rest of the students and staff. Also, no one dances or drinks more whenever we have a staff party. Their table is always the one with the most empty bottles on it at the end of the evening.
But I digress.
As you know, I'm an absent-minded fellow. One of the things that I'm afraid I will forget is to take my key when I leave my apartment. Well, I was locked out the other day, but it wasn't because I had forgotten my key. There's an extra little security device on the door lock, which is a cover that denies access to the keyhole. Someone had closed it while I was out, and I couldn't for the life of me get it to open. I had to call someone from the school to call a locksmith, who was able to pry it open and then replace it with a new one. It cost me 280 RMB, which is about $56.00.
If I ever find out who did it...
Fucking mooks.
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Politesse
A little while ago, a Facebook friend posted an article from the Straits Times regarding a Thai temple that was building separate toilet facilities for non-Chinese tourists. Apparently, the Chinese tourists' bathroom etiquette was so bad, and the state the bathrooms were left in was so nauseating, that they were relegated to separate facilities in order to protect people who were more familiar with things like indoor plumbing.
There was a related link to a story about why Chinese tourists are so rude. The writer suggests that education (or the lack thereof) plays a role in why they behave the way they do, as well as a general lack of understanding of culture wherever they go.
The writer says:
It seems that thousands of years after Confucius admonished his students not to
"impose on others what you don't desire," the Chinese now act in quite the opposite way.
Sounds like Confucius had a handle on the Golden Rule, something I try to live by myself, though I don't always succeed.
The writer goes on to point out:
Living in China, where the rule of law doesn't exist, means that everyone has to look out for their own interest. It also means that people have little or no respect for laws.
This is bound to happen when ordinary folk are forced to watch their laws being violated
every day by their leaders,... citing the Chinese idiom shang xing xia xiao, meaning
"people in lower class follow what their leaders in the upper class do."
I see this lack of respect for the law every day. One example is the way drivers ignore "the rules of the road."It's every man for himself out there. I usually sit shotgun, so I have the best seat in the house to observe this behaviour. People merge into traffic with out looking to see if anyone is coming, and if anyone is coming, they continue on anyway. Their attitude seems to be, "Fuck you, I'm coming in."
If anyone is ahead of your car, and you go to pass them, they automatically drift into your lane without signalling and cut you off.
I see fender benders every time I go out into traffic, and there've been the odd time I've seen pedestrians that've been knocked down while crossing the road.
Pedestrians take their lives in their hands every time they go out into the street, and I keep my head on a swivel. You just never know which way they're going to come at you. But pedestrians ignore the rules, too, and they're kind of putting a target on their backs the way they jaywalk and wander around out on the road.
To get back to toilets, it does seem to me that people think anywhere is as good a place to relieve yourself of quite a variety of bodily fluids.
Of course, there's a lot of spitting going on. The first thing any Chinese person does as soon as they get outdoors is to hhhhhhhhooooooooocccccccccchhhhhhhhhhhhhh up as much phlegm as they possibly can and let fly with the loogies. And its amazing the number of times they seem to need to do that. I was walking from the gate to my complex to the door of my building, about a minute's walk, and I passed a mook going in the same general direction who had to hhhhhhhhooooooooocccccccccchhhhhhhhhhhhhh and spit 7 times. The aural assault is sometimes a bit hard to take, and just how much phlegm can you hhhhhhhhooooooooocccccccccchhhhhhhhhhhhhh up that often anyway?
Another way that mooks get rid of phlegm is to blow their noses onto the sidewalk. I remember trying that once, and the phlegm just sprayed all over my face. I guess you have to get the knack, but how many times do you have to clean your face off before that happens? And why don't you just use whatever you're cleaning your face off with to catch the snot anyway?
Why do I always have to think of everything?
The public urination is even more prevalent than it was in Korea. It's not uncommon to see a mook, or a group of mooks, pulled over and peeing at the side of the road. As in Korea, I can usually shift my gaze from the urinator to a restaurant or other public place that must have facilities the mook could use instead.
But as the article mentioned, public toilets are not well used by their patrons. I've been in enough over here to know that they should be avoided like the plague. People just do not believe in leaving the toilet the way they found it, so the next user is not inconvenienced. I remember going into a stall just after an old man. He had not flushed, and the paper he used to wipe his ass was left on the floor in front of the bowl.
Fucking mook.
Besides peeing everywhere, mooks also poop everywhere. I've posted pictures about the pedestrian underpasses near my first apartment before. Every once in a while, I would see that someone had left a turd there. I've never seen anyone actually doing it, like I've seen people peeing, but the evidence is there for all to see.
I don't think the people doing this really need to. There are places close by that have toilets, and taking a piss or a dump just anywhere you please shows ignorance of basic manners, in my opinion. But maybe the condition the toilets are left in puts them off as much as it does me.
I have an agreement with my bladder and my bowels. They do not put too much pressure on me, and I will get them home where it's safe. I'm like the character in "American Pie," who doesn't poop anywhere but at home.
One of the greatest inconveniences is that most of the stalls have slits in the floor that you have to squat over rather than the "throne" that I'm used to. I only use the slits to urinate in. Having to squat and take a shit is just beyond my capabilities now. And the Chinese agree. I was in the Shenzen airport, coming back from Hong Kong, and the facilitis had only one stall with a throne. The sign on the door said, "For The Weak Only."
Heh.
There was a related link to a story about why Chinese tourists are so rude. The writer suggests that education (or the lack thereof) plays a role in why they behave the way they do, as well as a general lack of understanding of culture wherever they go.
The writer says:
It seems that thousands of years after Confucius admonished his students not to
"impose on others what you don't desire," the Chinese now act in quite the opposite way.
Sounds like Confucius had a handle on the Golden Rule, something I try to live by myself, though I don't always succeed.
The writer goes on to point out:
Living in China, where the rule of law doesn't exist, means that everyone has to look out for their own interest. It also means that people have little or no respect for laws.
This is bound to happen when ordinary folk are forced to watch their laws being violated
every day by their leaders,... citing the Chinese idiom shang xing xia xiao, meaning
"people in lower class follow what their leaders in the upper class do."
I see this lack of respect for the law every day. One example is the way drivers ignore "the rules of the road."It's every man for himself out there. I usually sit shotgun, so I have the best seat in the house to observe this behaviour. People merge into traffic with out looking to see if anyone is coming, and if anyone is coming, they continue on anyway. Their attitude seems to be, "Fuck you, I'm coming in."
If anyone is ahead of your car, and you go to pass them, they automatically drift into your lane without signalling and cut you off.
I see fender benders every time I go out into traffic, and there've been the odd time I've seen pedestrians that've been knocked down while crossing the road.
Pedestrians take their lives in their hands every time they go out into the street, and I keep my head on a swivel. You just never know which way they're going to come at you. But pedestrians ignore the rules, too, and they're kind of putting a target on their backs the way they jaywalk and wander around out on the road.
To get back to toilets, it does seem to me that people think anywhere is as good a place to relieve yourself of quite a variety of bodily fluids.
Of course, there's a lot of spitting going on. The first thing any Chinese person does as soon as they get outdoors is to hhhhhhhhooooooooocccccccccchhhhhhhhhhhhhh up as much phlegm as they possibly can and let fly with the loogies. And its amazing the number of times they seem to need to do that. I was walking from the gate to my complex to the door of my building, about a minute's walk, and I passed a mook going in the same general direction who had to hhhhhhhhooooooooocccccccccchhhhhhhhhhhhhh and spit 7 times. The aural assault is sometimes a bit hard to take, and just how much phlegm can you hhhhhhhhooooooooocccccccccchhhhhhhhhhhhhh up that often anyway?
Another way that mooks get rid of phlegm is to blow their noses onto the sidewalk. I remember trying that once, and the phlegm just sprayed all over my face. I guess you have to get the knack, but how many times do you have to clean your face off before that happens? And why don't you just use whatever you're cleaning your face off with to catch the snot anyway?
Why do I always have to think of everything?
The public urination is even more prevalent than it was in Korea. It's not uncommon to see a mook, or a group of mooks, pulled over and peeing at the side of the road. As in Korea, I can usually shift my gaze from the urinator to a restaurant or other public place that must have facilities the mook could use instead.
But as the article mentioned, public toilets are not well used by their patrons. I've been in enough over here to know that they should be avoided like the plague. People just do not believe in leaving the toilet the way they found it, so the next user is not inconvenienced. I remember going into a stall just after an old man. He had not flushed, and the paper he used to wipe his ass was left on the floor in front of the bowl.
Fucking mook.
Besides peeing everywhere, mooks also poop everywhere. I've posted pictures about the pedestrian underpasses near my first apartment before. Every once in a while, I would see that someone had left a turd there. I've never seen anyone actually doing it, like I've seen people peeing, but the evidence is there for all to see.
I don't think the people doing this really need to. There are places close by that have toilets, and taking a piss or a dump just anywhere you please shows ignorance of basic manners, in my opinion. But maybe the condition the toilets are left in puts them off as much as it does me.
I have an agreement with my bladder and my bowels. They do not put too much pressure on me, and I will get them home where it's safe. I'm like the character in "American Pie," who doesn't poop anywhere but at home.
One of the greatest inconveniences is that most of the stalls have slits in the floor that you have to squat over rather than the "throne" that I'm used to. I only use the slits to urinate in. Having to squat and take a shit is just beyond my capabilities now. And the Chinese agree. I was in the Shenzen airport, coming back from Hong Kong, and the facilitis had only one stall with a throne. The sign on the door said, "For The Weak Only."
Heh.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Standing In Line
One of my favourite comedians is John Pinette. He was a heavy guy like me, and so a lot of his humour was about eating, buffets, and the trials and tribulations he had to go through. One of the things that irritated him the most was idiots in front of him in lines at restaurants, dithering about what to eat while he was starving to death.
"Get out of the line!" he would say.
In line at McDonald's, he would wonder why these people were looking at the menu and deciding what to have. "It's McDonald's! I knew what I wanted before I parked the car!
"Get out of the line!"
Or at KFC, "You know what they serve? Chicken! You know what else they got? Chicken!
"Get out of the line!"
I have been similarly afflicted in line by mooks dithering about. Given the chance, I would treat them like the Soup Nazi.
"No soup for you!"
And then ban them for life.
I remember one time when I was waiting in line at the university cafe. It was early in the morning, and I needed to get coffee and get breakfast and get to class. But between me and my goal was that most dreaded of obstacles, a group of females.
The thing about some people is that when they're at the head of the line you would never know it, because they stand 3-4 feet away from the counter, not looking directly at the menu or the cook, and chatting away about this or that instead of taking care of business.
And then it's a lot of, "I don't know what I what I want. What do you want?"
"I don't know. What do you want?"
I approach standing in line like I approach shopping. I want to get in, get my stuff, and get out. I can't stand it when I get stuck behind mooks with no morning agenda other than to mook about like they've all the time in the world.
Get out of the line!
When I was in Korea, I got used to the rudeness of the average ajumma, and learned to keep my elbows up and ready whenever my Spider-sense started to tingle.
Here in China, there's a funny kind of schizophrenia about queuing for things. Sometimes, when I'm approaching a door with a group of colleagues, everyone becomes like Chip 'n Dale.
"After you."
"No, no, no, after you."
"Oh, I couldn't possibly, after you."
Oh boy.
But when we're in the cafeteria, it's every man for himself, and you'll get mooks elbowing you out of the way to get to the food. And God help you if you're caught going late, after the students are lined up. I've seen more order in a shark feeding frenzy.
I guess the fact that there's a billion people all trying to get the same thing as you means that for some people, there is no time for manners. I'm usually polite and wait my turn, but I'm always on the watch for that one mook who doesn't know that his place is behind me.
Get out of the line.
"Get out of the line!" he would say.
In line at McDonald's, he would wonder why these people were looking at the menu and deciding what to have. "It's McDonald's! I knew what I wanted before I parked the car!
"Get out of the line!"
Or at KFC, "You know what they serve? Chicken! You know what else they got? Chicken!
"Get out of the line!"
I have been similarly afflicted in line by mooks dithering about. Given the chance, I would treat them like the Soup Nazi.
"No soup for you!"
And then ban them for life.
I remember one time when I was waiting in line at the university cafe. It was early in the morning, and I needed to get coffee and get breakfast and get to class. But between me and my goal was that most dreaded of obstacles, a group of females.
The thing about some people is that when they're at the head of the line you would never know it, because they stand 3-4 feet away from the counter, not looking directly at the menu or the cook, and chatting away about this or that instead of taking care of business.
And then it's a lot of, "I don't know what I what I want. What do you want?"
"I don't know. What do you want?"
I approach standing in line like I approach shopping. I want to get in, get my stuff, and get out. I can't stand it when I get stuck behind mooks with no morning agenda other than to mook about like they've all the time in the world.
Get out of the line!
When I was in Korea, I got used to the rudeness of the average ajumma, and learned to keep my elbows up and ready whenever my Spider-sense started to tingle.
Here in China, there's a funny kind of schizophrenia about queuing for things. Sometimes, when I'm approaching a door with a group of colleagues, everyone becomes like Chip 'n Dale.
"After you."
"No, no, no, after you."
"Oh, I couldn't possibly, after you."
Oh boy.
But when we're in the cafeteria, it's every man for himself, and you'll get mooks elbowing you out of the way to get to the food. And God help you if you're caught going late, after the students are lined up. I've seen more order in a shark feeding frenzy.
I guess the fact that there's a billion people all trying to get the same thing as you means that for some people, there is no time for manners. I'm usually polite and wait my turn, but I'm always on the watch for that one mook who doesn't know that his place is behind me.
Get out of the line.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
A Clumsy Oaf
I am a bit of a clumsy oaf sometimes. I have good days and bad days, and the bad days are really bad. I channel my inner Kramer, and things go smash.
But sometimes, my clumsiness gets a pass, and I dodge a real bullet.
This is my computer setup, featuring a look at where all the wires go. My monitor is at the back on the right, and just in front of it, on the corner of my desk, is a 2 terrabyte storage device, That's the tower down on the floor, with the wireless router next to it. All of the plugs go in a power bar just underneath the corner of the desk.
I think you can see where this is going.
There was a glass of water on my desk just about where the Canadian flag is, and as I was reaching for the on/off switch on the monitor, I knocked it over. The water went under the storage device and down on to the floor where the power bar rests.
And nothing happened.
Not one device was affected by the water.
I switched everything off and pulled out all the plugs before going in there and wiping off all the water. When I plugged everything back in and switched everything back on again, it all worked just as well as before. I thought, when that glass went over, that things were going to short out, blow up, and never work again in a million years.
But I dodged a bullet.
God looks after fools, drunkards and small children.
But sometimes, my clumsiness gets a pass, and I dodge a real bullet.
This is my computer setup, featuring a look at where all the wires go. My monitor is at the back on the right, and just in front of it, on the corner of my desk, is a 2 terrabyte storage device, That's the tower down on the floor, with the wireless router next to it. All of the plugs go in a power bar just underneath the corner of the desk.
I think you can see where this is going.
There was a glass of water on my desk just about where the Canadian flag is, and as I was reaching for the on/off switch on the monitor, I knocked it over. The water went under the storage device and down on to the floor where the power bar rests.
And nothing happened.
Not one device was affected by the water.
I switched everything off and pulled out all the plugs before going in there and wiping off all the water. When I plugged everything back in and switched everything back on again, it all worked just as well as before. I thought, when that glass went over, that things were going to short out, blow up, and never work again in a million years.
But I dodged a bullet.
God looks after fools, drunkards and small children.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
What the... Chinese Postal Service?!
Arriving in China with just a coupla bags and a 'puter was a little different than when I first arrived in Korea, lo those many years ago. When I got to Korea, I had the feeling for the first few weeks of, "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?!"
When I arrived in China, however, I was an old veteran of foreign travel, and it would have taken a lot to faze me. It helped a lot that the people who met me were (and still are) very nice, and not a sick bunch of twisted weirdos out to squeeze every last unit of money out of the poor deluded soul they tricked into accepting employment with them!
But I digress.
(Flint and I have pretty extensively ranted about Korea elsewhere)
I wasn't able to bring everything that I thought I would need over here, not by a long shot. I am here for quite a while I think, and I need certain things (maybe too many things) to set up housekeeping, and live in the style to which I have become accustomed.
So, towards the end of November, I asked my parents to send me a few things: textbooks about teaching, some towels and sheets, and some Canadiana from the Dollar Store to use as Christmas presents for my students. The story of that parcel's journey is long and twisted, so bear with me. All of the dates and times were obtained by submitting the tracking number to Canada Post's website.
The parcel was accepted at the Sundre, Alberta Post Office at 1645 on November 25, 2013. On Nov. 27th, it was processed in Calgary at 0019, and then in Richmond BC at 0735. It left Canada that same day at 1315, and arrived in China on November 30th at 1811.
On December 1st, it was in transit at 0102, and it arrived at the Chinese Post Office at 1005. It took until December 5th at 0717 for it to be deemed successfully delivered at its address, which was plainly marked on the package as my school.
However, I was not the recipient. Just who had it is still not clear. Time passed, and as Christmas grew closer, I started to wonder just where the package was. My parents aren't young anymore, and things tend to slip their mind. I finally e-mailed them about a week before Christmas just to make sure they had sent the package.
They assured me that it had been mailed okay, and that I should have had it by then, considering how much money they'd spent on the postage. They sent me the tracking number, and I found out all the information described above. The question was, Where was my package?
I tried to contact the Chinese Post Office, but I couldn't find a legitimate phone number, much less someone who spoke English. I turned to my co-teachers, which I don't like to do, as they all work like dogs anyway. Adding this burden to their workload was just one more thing to distract them, but I was adamant. I wanted my package.
Dealing with the post office went on for weeks. Every department said that they didn't have it, the other department had it.This went on for quite some time, until all of the departments in the post office had denied at least twice that they didn't have my package.
Finally, the last week of term arrived, with no sign of it. On January 13th, the post office was informed that my school was going to the police to get some satisfaction on the issue. Someone came to the school the next day to see some letters that I had received to check the addresses to make sure they were proper.
Wednesday was the last day of term, and I left the school without my package or anymore news.
But later that evening my supervisor phoned and told me that she had the package (or at least it was at the school). She delivered it into my hands a couple of days later. Just where it had been, and why it took so long (as well as a threat) to get it to me, is still a mystery.
But be warned: if you are going to send me something, keep track of it, and if it's valuable make sure it's insured. The Chinese Postal Service has not satisfactorily explained what happened. Not to me, anyway.
When I arrived in China, however, I was an old veteran of foreign travel, and it would have taken a lot to faze me. It helped a lot that the people who met me were (and still are) very nice, and not a sick bunch of twisted weirdos out to squeeze every last unit of money out of the poor deluded soul they tricked into accepting employment with them!
But I digress.
(Flint and I have pretty extensively ranted about Korea elsewhere)
I wasn't able to bring everything that I thought I would need over here, not by a long shot. I am here for quite a while I think, and I need certain things (maybe too many things) to set up housekeeping, and live in the style to which I have become accustomed.
So, towards the end of November, I asked my parents to send me a few things: textbooks about teaching, some towels and sheets, and some Canadiana from the Dollar Store to use as Christmas presents for my students. The story of that parcel's journey is long and twisted, so bear with me. All of the dates and times were obtained by submitting the tracking number to Canada Post's website.
The parcel was accepted at the Sundre, Alberta Post Office at 1645 on November 25, 2013. On Nov. 27th, it was processed in Calgary at 0019, and then in Richmond BC at 0735. It left Canada that same day at 1315, and arrived in China on November 30th at 1811.
On December 1st, it was in transit at 0102, and it arrived at the Chinese Post Office at 1005. It took until December 5th at 0717 for it to be deemed successfully delivered at its address, which was plainly marked on the package as my school.
However, I was not the recipient. Just who had it is still not clear. Time passed, and as Christmas grew closer, I started to wonder just where the package was. My parents aren't young anymore, and things tend to slip their mind. I finally e-mailed them about a week before Christmas just to make sure they had sent the package.
They assured me that it had been mailed okay, and that I should have had it by then, considering how much money they'd spent on the postage. They sent me the tracking number, and I found out all the information described above. The question was, Where was my package?
I tried to contact the Chinese Post Office, but I couldn't find a legitimate phone number, much less someone who spoke English. I turned to my co-teachers, which I don't like to do, as they all work like dogs anyway. Adding this burden to their workload was just one more thing to distract them, but I was adamant. I wanted my package.
Dealing with the post office went on for weeks. Every department said that they didn't have it, the other department had it.This went on for quite some time, until all of the departments in the post office had denied at least twice that they didn't have my package.
Finally, the last week of term arrived, with no sign of it. On January 13th, the post office was informed that my school was going to the police to get some satisfaction on the issue. Someone came to the school the next day to see some letters that I had received to check the addresses to make sure they were proper.
Wednesday was the last day of term, and I left the school without my package or anymore news.
But later that evening my supervisor phoned and told me that she had the package (or at least it was at the school). She delivered it into my hands a couple of days later. Just where it had been, and why it took so long (as well as a threat) to get it to me, is still a mystery.
But be warned: if you are going to send me something, keep track of it, and if it's valuable make sure it's insured. The Chinese Postal Service has not satisfactorily explained what happened. Not to me, anyway.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
The End of Term
The end of the first term has finally arrived. Friday was the last day of classes. This Monday and Tuesday, the students will write their final exams, and on Wednesday the parents will attend a meeting with the staff of the International Department.
On Friday evening, the teachers of the department, the middle school teachers, and your humble scribe attended a dinner to celebrate making it this far. The whole affair was presided over by the school's headmaster, or Principal. I'm not exactly sure of his duties, but he comes around to visit every once in a while, and he makes a well-received speech whenever there is a school assembly. His looks remind me of Chairman Mao a little bit, and his gestures sort of bring echoes of the great man.
At his right hand sat the vice-principal in charge of the middle school and the International department. She is another person that visits every once in a while, and she has some English, as well. I have been training her and the other teachers in my department to stop turning the lights off all the time. I think they are trying to save money, but as I have trouble reading in the dark, I am urging them to let them burn while I'm in the staff room. I think they might be a little embarrassed about it, especially when I whip out my flashlight to see my way down the stairs.
Besides myself, there are four teachers in the International department. Linda is the supervisor, and she teaches some English classes every once in a while. She is kind of hard to take sometimes, as she has a tendency to get over-excited and distracted at times. When ever I need something from her, I have to make sure I have her full attention before making my request, or she will brush me off with a "Yeah, yeah," and then not get it done.
There is a tendency over here, and I noticed this in Korea too, to let me know what is happening last. I am told the day before that things like a report or a lesson plan are due. They aren't too worried about what I submit, as long as it's something in English. I have a suspicion that whoever sees this material just looks at the words, doesn't understand them, but gives them an official stamp anyway.
But all of my bosses have been very nice to me, and try to make my life here as pleasant as possible. I'm grateful for their patience with me.
My three co-teachers are a great help, as well. "Annie" co-teaches History with me, "Ocean" helps out with Geography, and Mrs. Zhang does the English classes that I or Linda don't teach. Mrs. Zhang also takes care of the discipline, and she has a very sharp tongue. Every once in a while, she will bring a naughty student (usually a boy) into the staff room for a dressing down. They don't use sticks on the students like they do in Korea, but they're not above giving them a real hard pinch or a slap.
The International class only has twenty students at this time. One of them, who's English is very good, is leaving for Canada soon, to attend classes in the Upper Canada District School Board.
I am the one full-time foreign teacher at the school so far. There is an Englishman who comes in on Fridays to spend time with the other classes. His name is Adam, and I don't know that much about him, as our paths don't cross very often. My school is out in the boonies, across the river from the main part of Harbin, so I rarely see any foreigners at all. And when I do, they are usually Russian.
But I digress.
I was talking about our dinner. With the rest of the middle school teachers, we were about twenty, seated around two big round tables with lazy susans in the middle crammed full of delicious food. There were many toasts, and it was kind of like many a dinner I attended in Korea. There, the director of whatever school I was working at would usually take us out for an evening of burning meat, cup after cup of soju, and many a toast to us, them, and everyone else in between.
The difference between those meals in Korea and these in China is that the toasts themselves do seem to go on for an extraordinarily long time. My glass is raised, and raised, and raised, and I wait and wait and wait to drink, and still the speechifying goes on and on. The people I work with are very long winded when it comes to making a toast. It wouldn't be so bad, but I don't understand much of what is being said, and I will admit to being bored after a while. I was sitting at the table with the principals, and it looked like the table with the teachers were having more fun, so that is where I ended up before long. I was sitting next to the English and Math teacher, who seemed determined to get me as drunk as possible.
I let him.
Heh.
So now I'm looking forward to six weeks off. The Chinese Lunar New Year, or Spring Festival, is coming up, and I look forward to seeing a lot of things blow up real good. Harbin is famous for its Ice and Snow Festival, which started on January 5th, and goes on for weeks. There are fantastic ice and snow sculptures all over town. There are some really nice pictures on the web, if you care to look for them.
And, of course, I will be heading down south to a much warmer place. I plan on going to Sanya, on Hainan Island, which is described as "China's Hawaii." But more of that another time.
On Friday evening, the teachers of the department, the middle school teachers, and your humble scribe attended a dinner to celebrate making it this far. The whole affair was presided over by the school's headmaster, or Principal. I'm not exactly sure of his duties, but he comes around to visit every once in a while, and he makes a well-received speech whenever there is a school assembly. His looks remind me of Chairman Mao a little bit, and his gestures sort of bring echoes of the great man.
At his right hand sat the vice-principal in charge of the middle school and the International department. She is another person that visits every once in a while, and she has some English, as well. I have been training her and the other teachers in my department to stop turning the lights off all the time. I think they are trying to save money, but as I have trouble reading in the dark, I am urging them to let them burn while I'm in the staff room. I think they might be a little embarrassed about it, especially when I whip out my flashlight to see my way down the stairs.
Besides myself, there are four teachers in the International department. Linda is the supervisor, and she teaches some English classes every once in a while. She is kind of hard to take sometimes, as she has a tendency to get over-excited and distracted at times. When ever I need something from her, I have to make sure I have her full attention before making my request, or she will brush me off with a "Yeah, yeah," and then not get it done.
There is a tendency over here, and I noticed this in Korea too, to let me know what is happening last. I am told the day before that things like a report or a lesson plan are due. They aren't too worried about what I submit, as long as it's something in English. I have a suspicion that whoever sees this material just looks at the words, doesn't understand them, but gives them an official stamp anyway.
But all of my bosses have been very nice to me, and try to make my life here as pleasant as possible. I'm grateful for their patience with me.
My three co-teachers are a great help, as well. "Annie" co-teaches History with me, "Ocean" helps out with Geography, and Mrs. Zhang does the English classes that I or Linda don't teach. Mrs. Zhang also takes care of the discipline, and she has a very sharp tongue. Every once in a while, she will bring a naughty student (usually a boy) into the staff room for a dressing down. They don't use sticks on the students like they do in Korea, but they're not above giving them a real hard pinch or a slap.
The International class only has twenty students at this time. One of them, who's English is very good, is leaving for Canada soon, to attend classes in the Upper Canada District School Board.
I am the one full-time foreign teacher at the school so far. There is an Englishman who comes in on Fridays to spend time with the other classes. His name is Adam, and I don't know that much about him, as our paths don't cross very often. My school is out in the boonies, across the river from the main part of Harbin, so I rarely see any foreigners at all. And when I do, they are usually Russian.
But I digress.
I was talking about our dinner. With the rest of the middle school teachers, we were about twenty, seated around two big round tables with lazy susans in the middle crammed full of delicious food. There were many toasts, and it was kind of like many a dinner I attended in Korea. There, the director of whatever school I was working at would usually take us out for an evening of burning meat, cup after cup of soju, and many a toast to us, them, and everyone else in between.
The difference between those meals in Korea and these in China is that the toasts themselves do seem to go on for an extraordinarily long time. My glass is raised, and raised, and raised, and I wait and wait and wait to drink, and still the speechifying goes on and on. The people I work with are very long winded when it comes to making a toast. It wouldn't be so bad, but I don't understand much of what is being said, and I will admit to being bored after a while. I was sitting at the table with the principals, and it looked like the table with the teachers were having more fun, so that is where I ended up before long. I was sitting next to the English and Math teacher, who seemed determined to get me as drunk as possible.
I let him.
Heh.
So now I'm looking forward to six weeks off. The Chinese Lunar New Year, or Spring Festival, is coming up, and I look forward to seeing a lot of things blow up real good. Harbin is famous for its Ice and Snow Festival, which started on January 5th, and goes on for weeks. There are fantastic ice and snow sculptures all over town. There are some really nice pictures on the web, if you care to look for them.
And, of course, I will be heading down south to a much warmer place. I plan on going to Sanya, on Hainan Island, which is described as "China's Hawaii." But more of that another time.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
People Are In A Hurry!
I don't often see the people in my building, except in the elevator. People riding the elevator are on the way to somewhere, whether they are coming in or going out, with little time to chat. Except for two ladies who always have a nice little natter with one in the hall and one in the machine, holding the door open until they finish.
I did meet the guy across the hall after I blew the fuses in my con-apt, though.
My washing machine is in the bathroom. Everyone who's lived in Korea or China will know what I'm talking about when I say that when I'm doing laundry, I have to stretch the cord across the room and up near the ceiling to plug it in. Well, one day I was stepping over the cord, lost my balance and came down hard on top of it. The cord pulled right out of the plug, but the wires touched long enough to overload the circuit breaker.
It was a struggle to get things back in order, I can tell you.
At first, I couldn't find the fuse box. There just wasn't one in view, and I didn't know if it was in another part of the building or what. I called my supervisor to ask for some help, but just trying to explain "circuit breaker" over the phone to her was enough to lay me waste for the rest of the day.
But I plucked up my courage, and knocked on a neighbour's door. He couldn't have been nicer, and he even spoke a little English. He found the fuse box hiding behind the wardrobe, reset the breaker, and then reset another breaker in a power closet next to the elevator, That restored the power. He even rewired the plug for me.
But, I digress.
I was going to talk about how much in a hurry the people in my building are, as demonstrated by their behaviour in the elevator.
When ever they get on, they always push the "door close" button as soon as possible. I have yet to see someone not push it. I've even seen someone push that button first, and then the button for their floor. Impatient much?
I have never worried about the door close button before. It would have to be an uncomfortably long time in the elevator with the doors open before I would think about pushing it. So when ever I get on, I only push the button for my floor. If I'm alone, the doors close after a second or two and I'm on my way, but if somebody else is on the elevator with me, they will push the close button for me. I've even seen someone pushing the door close button as the doors are closing!
That would be enough for me to award the prize, but the person who takes the cake was a woman who rode down in the elevator with me last week. As we arrived on the first floor, and I swear I am not making this up, she started pushing the "door open" button.
GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE A WINNER!!!
I did meet the guy across the hall after I blew the fuses in my con-apt, though.
My washing machine is in the bathroom. Everyone who's lived in Korea or China will know what I'm talking about when I say that when I'm doing laundry, I have to stretch the cord across the room and up near the ceiling to plug it in. Well, one day I was stepping over the cord, lost my balance and came down hard on top of it. The cord pulled right out of the plug, but the wires touched long enough to overload the circuit breaker.
It was a struggle to get things back in order, I can tell you.
At first, I couldn't find the fuse box. There just wasn't one in view, and I didn't know if it was in another part of the building or what. I called my supervisor to ask for some help, but just trying to explain "circuit breaker" over the phone to her was enough to lay me waste for the rest of the day.
But I plucked up my courage, and knocked on a neighbour's door. He couldn't have been nicer, and he even spoke a little English. He found the fuse box hiding behind the wardrobe, reset the breaker, and then reset another breaker in a power closet next to the elevator, That restored the power. He even rewired the plug for me.
But, I digress.
I was going to talk about how much in a hurry the people in my building are, as demonstrated by their behaviour in the elevator.
When ever they get on, they always push the "door close" button as soon as possible. I have yet to see someone not push it. I've even seen someone push that button first, and then the button for their floor. Impatient much?
I have never worried about the door close button before. It would have to be an uncomfortably long time in the elevator with the doors open before I would think about pushing it. So when ever I get on, I only push the button for my floor. If I'm alone, the doors close after a second or two and I'm on my way, but if somebody else is on the elevator with me, they will push the close button for me. I've even seen someone pushing the door close button as the doors are closing!
That would be enough for me to award the prize, but the person who takes the cake was a woman who rode down in the elevator with me last week. As we arrived on the first floor, and I swear I am not making this up, she started pushing the "door open" button.
GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE A WINNER!!!
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Why I Teach ESL
There is a funny website, engrish.com, that features the misuse of the English language by those who are not native speakers. Since I have been in China, I have seen many more examples to add to their site.
The area I live in is the site of a lot of new building, and there are billboards around the construction that advertise how great they are going to be when they're finished. Some of the English that they use is unintentionally funny.
But why use English at all? It isn't that prevalent here. I have met only a few who speak it, so it's a mystery why a developer would want to use it to advertise their product. Do they think that the people who see it (but can't read it) will be impressed?
But I digress.
One sign reads: "The Great House is on the Eastern City Hall and the Northern River." This is on a complex near the building that is North Harbin's City Hall, and it is close to the river.
Another building site's sign says "Deposit Gold Silver Than Save Shop."
?
Another sign on the same site reads:
"Great Appreciation of Space
Wealth is in our hands."
That's how it looks on the billboard, so I'm not sure if it's supposed to be one sentence or not. It makes a little more sense as two sentences, but as one... what is "Space Wealth?"
Yet another development sign advertises itself as "Water's Fragrant Dike."
Okay.
Here is a picture of a local business' sign:
Now I realize they are probably in the real estate business, but what if they are selling real property? Can you buy fake property, too?A restaurant across the street is the "Lotus Fishing Restaurant." I went there to eat with some of the department heads (both from Canada and here in Harbin), but we weren't asked to catch our own dinner.
Another restaurant is named "Splendid Restaurant" on the front, but "People Restaurant" around the corner. Which is it? And do you feed people, or serve them up? Whatever, I am going to be careful about walking near it.
Other businesses I have seen are: "Love's Witness," "Her Dress Box," "Happy Hour Time Hotel" (probably similar to the "love motels" I encountered in Korea), "Bird Nest Business Lnn" (my italics), and an ice cream parlour that tells us to "enjoy delicious enjoy life."
When I was taken to a hospital for a physical, I left my urine sample on a tray that had a sign:: "Leave urine after duct inserted on top of the shey." Boy, I hope I did it right.
I found a de-motivational poster featuring this backpack:
Heh.
Even my students are exposed unwittingly to poor English, in the form of the notebooks they use. One has this printed on the cover:
The area I live in is the site of a lot of new building, and there are billboards around the construction that advertise how great they are going to be when they're finished. Some of the English that they use is unintentionally funny.
But why use English at all? It isn't that prevalent here. I have met only a few who speak it, so it's a mystery why a developer would want to use it to advertise their product. Do they think that the people who see it (but can't read it) will be impressed?
But I digress.
One sign reads: "The Great House is on the Eastern City Hall and the Northern River." This is on a complex near the building that is North Harbin's City Hall, and it is close to the river.
Another building site's sign says "Deposit Gold Silver Than Save Shop."
?
Another sign on the same site reads:
"Great Appreciation of Space
Wealth is in our hands."
That's how it looks on the billboard, so I'm not sure if it's supposed to be one sentence or not. It makes a little more sense as two sentences, but as one... what is "Space Wealth?"
Yet another development sign advertises itself as "Water's Fragrant Dike."
Okay.
Here is a picture of a local business' sign:
Another restaurant is named "Splendid Restaurant" on the front, but "People Restaurant" around the corner. Which is it? And do you feed people, or serve them up? Whatever, I am going to be careful about walking near it.
Other businesses I have seen are: "Love's Witness," "Her Dress Box," "Happy Hour Time Hotel" (probably similar to the "love motels" I encountered in Korea), "Bird Nest Business Lnn" (my italics), and an ice cream parlour that tells us to "enjoy delicious enjoy life."
When I was taken to a hospital for a physical, I left my urine sample on a tray that had a sign:: "Leave urine after duct inserted on top of the shey." Boy, I hope I did it right.
I found a de-motivational poster featuring this backpack:
Heh.
Even my students are exposed unwittingly to poor English, in the form of the notebooks they use. One has this printed on the cover:
LONELY HEART
I stood in the memory of
the entrance
A collection of my left chest
Go Ballistic loneliness
Naked loses
Stick out a mile.
So I can not say tears
Because of hair
I walked along the fate of
the arrow
But moving to the next
You could make the case that it's poetry, because it works for me on that level.
But the best, the one that I absolutely love, is this paragraph written on the back of car parked in front of the apartment building next to mine. It reads:
JUNCTION PRODUCE
High Lovely Salloon Gallery
We, coordinate brand for "JUNCTION PRODUCE" of VIPCAR, are proud of be fed back aggresively to make full use of sensibility the tradition for as much of austerity. eeriness. rambunctiosness and austere elegance in which only prestige carhas. By so doing. we, junction Pproduce Would like to aim the way to the pinnacle of VP dress up and we want to be only the first and last memory keeper of by succeeding this point from everlasting to everlasting.
It's complete gibberish. It's fantastic gibberish, and I fell in love with it the moment I saw it. I mean, you can't make this stuff up!
What is the company selling? Cars (VIPCAR)? Produce, as in vegetables? Or clothes (dress up)? Who cares?
What is the company selling? Cars (VIPCAR)? Produce, as in vegetables? Or clothes (dress up)? Who cares?
As long as there are signs like this, my job is safe.
Friday, November 29, 2013
Why Do Chinese Cross The Road?
When I first went to Korea, I couldn't believe how poorly they drove. It was like they were given cars without being told how to use them properly. But I have written about that on "What the Kimchi?" I did not think that there worse drivers.
Then I went to Vietnam.
I find somewhat the same situation here in China. They just do not drive with any care or attention. I have been in cars where the driver will make a turn or change lanes without signalling or even looking to see if anybody is there. And the result is plain to see. It seems like every time I have been out on the road, I have seen an accident, or its aftermath. Most of them are simple scrapes and fender benders that could be avoided if the drivers hadn't been trying to one-up each other.
I have seen vehicles driving the wrong way, just to avoid making a little detour. Our bus driver has to avoid these idiots at a certain point on our trip to school each and every day.
So I have made it a rule, I am not going to jaywalk. Even crossing in a crosswalk with the light, I have had to avoid drivers making what in Canada would be illegal turns. You have to keep your head on a swivel or risk certain death.
But the average Chinese are braver (or stupider) than I am. They jaywalk at almost every opportunity, and turn their noses up at safety devices like crosswalks and pedestrian overpasses. They will cross wherever and whenever they want to, despite the traffic. Sometimes I think they are even trying to mess up traffic, like when they wait to cross until just after the light has changed against them.
In front of my apartment building, there is a huge traffic circle, which I have to cross on the way to the bus stop. There are pedestrian underpasses that I use all the time, but the average Chinese will avoid. They would rather cross the road just above the underpass, rather than take the few extra steps. I took the following pictures just in the time it took to go around the circle a coupla times.
Here's one of the underpasses:
Here are two men, walking in the street, RIGHT NEXT TO the underpass:
and then crossing in between speeding vehicles:
Here's another coupla mooks walking on the road:
and crossing straight towards the underpass.
I MEAN, IT'S RIGHT THERE! ARE YOU BLIND?!
A woman walking on the road (at least she's facing traffic. Many people don't):
Here's a woman actually using the underpass, the only person I saw doing so that day, though there were some tracks in the snow:
She walked on the road rather than the sidewalk, with her back to the oncoming traffic:
and she crossed the road while I took the underpass:
I don't know, maybe she thought I was the crazy one.
But how did the population of China get to be so large, with poor judgement like this?
Then I went to Vietnam.
I find somewhat the same situation here in China. They just do not drive with any care or attention. I have been in cars where the driver will make a turn or change lanes without signalling or even looking to see if anybody is there. And the result is plain to see. It seems like every time I have been out on the road, I have seen an accident, or its aftermath. Most of them are simple scrapes and fender benders that could be avoided if the drivers hadn't been trying to one-up each other.
I have seen vehicles driving the wrong way, just to avoid making a little detour. Our bus driver has to avoid these idiots at a certain point on our trip to school each and every day.
So I have made it a rule, I am not going to jaywalk. Even crossing in a crosswalk with the light, I have had to avoid drivers making what in Canada would be illegal turns. You have to keep your head on a swivel or risk certain death.
But the average Chinese are braver (or stupider) than I am. They jaywalk at almost every opportunity, and turn their noses up at safety devices like crosswalks and pedestrian overpasses. They will cross wherever and whenever they want to, despite the traffic. Sometimes I think they are even trying to mess up traffic, like when they wait to cross until just after the light has changed against them.
In front of my apartment building, there is a huge traffic circle, which I have to cross on the way to the bus stop. There are pedestrian underpasses that I use all the time, but the average Chinese will avoid. They would rather cross the road just above the underpass, rather than take the few extra steps. I took the following pictures just in the time it took to go around the circle a coupla times.
Here's one of the underpasses:
and a woman crossing RIGHT NEXT TO it:
I MEAN, IT'S RIGHT THERE! ARE YOU BLIND?!
Here's a woman actually using the underpass, the only person I saw doing so that day, though there were some tracks in the snow:
Here's a woman that I followed around the circle:
But how did the population of China get to be so large, with poor judgement like this?
A Chinese Fire Drill
This week we had a fire drill at the school. We were warned what day it was going to be, but I was a little disconcerted with the instructions about how to act during the drill. The supervisor of my department, "Linda," told me to run to the exit. I wasn't sure I would have to do this, and I didn't plan on trampling over the students in order to make my escape.
They do strange things here at the school, things I am sure would not pass muster in the west. Some of the exits from the school are padlocked shut. There are plenty of other exits, but I wonder what would happen if someone absolutely had to use one of those padlocked exits to escape.
Anyway, the siren for the drill sounded last Wednesday morning, and it was LOUD! It was like one of those old air raid sirens, only it was just in the hallway, so it kind of startled me. By the time I put on my hat and picked up my coat, the other teachers and the students were GONE.
I was astounded. In those few seconds, they had done what they were told, and had run right out of the building. By the time I descended from the third floor out to the walkway in front of the building (through an exit unlocked for the drill, and re-locked the next day), they were all in the athletic field.
They left me to burn to death!
Heh.
"Annie," who co-teaches History with me, said that I should have run. And when we had a second drill later that day, she kept urging me to go faster. She even got behind me and started giving me little nudges in the back.
Oh boy.
So that is a genuine Chinese fire drill.
They do strange things here at the school, things I am sure would not pass muster in the west. Some of the exits from the school are padlocked shut. There are plenty of other exits, but I wonder what would happen if someone absolutely had to use one of those padlocked exits to escape.
Anyway, the siren for the drill sounded last Wednesday morning, and it was LOUD! It was like one of those old air raid sirens, only it was just in the hallway, so it kind of startled me. By the time I put on my hat and picked up my coat, the other teachers and the students were GONE.
I was astounded. In those few seconds, they had done what they were told, and had run right out of the building. By the time I descended from the third floor out to the walkway in front of the building (through an exit unlocked for the drill, and re-locked the next day), they were all in the athletic field.
They left me to burn to death!
Heh.
"Annie," who co-teaches History with me, said that I should have run. And when we had a second drill later that day, she kept urging me to go faster. She even got behind me and started giving me little nudges in the back.
Oh boy.
So that is a genuine Chinese fire drill.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
JFK 50 Years Later
November 22nd next week will mark the fiftieth anniversary of John F. Kennedy's assassination, as you may have seen on television. The National Geographic channel is marking the occasion by airing "Killing Kennedy," which is adapted from a book by Bill O'Reilly.
I haven't read the book, but most reviews said good things about it. And the movie wasn't that bad, either. But it did stick to the "Oswald did it" storyline, which in my mind has been thoroughly discredited. I've written about my visit to Dealey Plaza before, and my reasons for believing in a conspiracy are explained there.
There is a principle known as Occam's Razor, that in general says that the simplest solution is probably the most likely. When people come up with insanely complicated conspiracy theories about who killed JFK, they are dismissed as nuts who just can't accept that a man as great as Kennedy could be killed by a non-entity like Oswald.
But the more I have read about the assassination, the more I believe in a conspiracy. Yahoo news recently ran a story called "Ten Facts You Don't Know About the JFK Assassination." I'm always interested in learning more, so I gave it a read.
The facts are derived from a book by Brad Meltzer, History Decoded:The 10 Greatest Conspiracies of All Time. They are things that not a lot of people know, such as that the window Oswald shot from disappeared and is in the hands of a private collector. The Sixth Floor Museum has a window it says is the one on display. I don't know, maybe they're mistaken.
Another fact given is that plenty of shooter's replicated Oswald's feat of shooting three times in less than six seconds. I don't think anyone ever disputed this. I think even I could (probably) fire the Carcano in six seconds. Whether I could hit the target, or an expert could replicate the wounds that the "magic bullet" is supposed to have inflicted, is another matter.
I have seen some documentaries try to demonstrate this, but I'm still skeptical. Even with computer modelling their conclusions do not shake my conviction that a bullet struck Kennedy in the front of his head, driving him back and to the left. Simple physics proves a conspiracy.
Meltzer's fact about the magic bullet is that rather than being pristine, which he says most people believe, it is flattened on one side. After traversing the bodies of two men, smashing bones and piercing tough skin, it is flattened on one side.
I roll my eyes.
Another fact, that Oliver Stone's film "JFK" damaged history, is probably true. People may have missed Stone's statement that he merely wanted to start a conversation, or that "JFK" is a film made in Hollywood, which is also known as the "Dream Factory." Anyone who relies on Hollywood for their facts probably believes there's a dinosaur park in Central America.
Heh.
The investigation by the Warren Commission was done behind closed doors, and the Kennedy family kept some of the photographs of the autopsy (as well as Kennedy's brain, probably buried privately by Bobby). Things like this led to theories gaining more credence and taking a foothold on the public's imagination. But the Watergate scandal and the revelations that followed also gave people a sense that their government wasn't to be trusted.
There are not a lot of files left in the vaults (the government says) because of recent freedom of information disclosures.
Meltzer pooh-poohs the statement that there were a lot of mysterious deaths after JFK's murder, as if some agency or organization was trying to keep them quiet. He says a lot of these "mysterious" deaths were merely serendipitous accidents or natural causes. An interesting article about some of those deaths can be found here.
Meltzer does say that people should investigate and make up their own minds, which I agree with. Whether or not you believe that Oswald acted alone, you are going to see a lot of films and documentaries, or read a lot of books, this month that may help you make up your mind.
I haven't read the book, but most reviews said good things about it. And the movie wasn't that bad, either. But it did stick to the "Oswald did it" storyline, which in my mind has been thoroughly discredited. I've written about my visit to Dealey Plaza before, and my reasons for believing in a conspiracy are explained there.
There is a principle known as Occam's Razor, that in general says that the simplest solution is probably the most likely. When people come up with insanely complicated conspiracy theories about who killed JFK, they are dismissed as nuts who just can't accept that a man as great as Kennedy could be killed by a non-entity like Oswald.
But the more I have read about the assassination, the more I believe in a conspiracy. Yahoo news recently ran a story called "Ten Facts You Don't Know About the JFK Assassination." I'm always interested in learning more, so I gave it a read.
The facts are derived from a book by Brad Meltzer, History Decoded:The 10 Greatest Conspiracies of All Time. They are things that not a lot of people know, such as that the window Oswald shot from disappeared and is in the hands of a private collector. The Sixth Floor Museum has a window it says is the one on display. I don't know, maybe they're mistaken.
Another fact given is that plenty of shooter's replicated Oswald's feat of shooting three times in less than six seconds. I don't think anyone ever disputed this. I think even I could (probably) fire the Carcano in six seconds. Whether I could hit the target, or an expert could replicate the wounds that the "magic bullet" is supposed to have inflicted, is another matter.
I have seen some documentaries try to demonstrate this, but I'm still skeptical. Even with computer modelling their conclusions do not shake my conviction that a bullet struck Kennedy in the front of his head, driving him back and to the left. Simple physics proves a conspiracy.
Meltzer's fact about the magic bullet is that rather than being pristine, which he says most people believe, it is flattened on one side. After traversing the bodies of two men, smashing bones and piercing tough skin, it is flattened on one side.
I roll my eyes.
Another fact, that Oliver Stone's film "JFK" damaged history, is probably true. People may have missed Stone's statement that he merely wanted to start a conversation, or that "JFK" is a film made in Hollywood, which is also known as the "Dream Factory." Anyone who relies on Hollywood for their facts probably believes there's a dinosaur park in Central America.
Heh.
The investigation by the Warren Commission was done behind closed doors, and the Kennedy family kept some of the photographs of the autopsy (as well as Kennedy's brain, probably buried privately by Bobby). Things like this led to theories gaining more credence and taking a foothold on the public's imagination. But the Watergate scandal and the revelations that followed also gave people a sense that their government wasn't to be trusted.
There are not a lot of files left in the vaults (the government says) because of recent freedom of information disclosures.
Meltzer pooh-poohs the statement that there were a lot of mysterious deaths after JFK's murder, as if some agency or organization was trying to keep them quiet. He says a lot of these "mysterious" deaths were merely serendipitous accidents or natural causes. An interesting article about some of those deaths can be found here.
Meltzer does say that people should investigate and make up their own minds, which I agree with. Whether or not you believe that Oswald acted alone, you are going to see a lot of films and documentaries, or read a lot of books, this month that may help you make up your mind.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Eating
I thought that for this post, I would share with you something about the food here. Taking influences from Russia, Mongolia, Korea, and of course, China, Harbin's food is a lot "heartier" than the rest of the country. Stews are very popular, and because the winters are a lot longer, you'll find that cabbage, potatoes, cucumber, and corn are used more here. Chinese BBQ and hot pot are also very popular.
I eat most of my meals at my school. The students board there during the week, and they and the teachers all eat in the dining hall next to the main building.
I take the school's bus in the morning, along with other teachers, getting picked up at 7:10 and arriving twenty minutes later. I go straight to the dining hall to have breakfast.
I eat most of my meals at my school. The students board there during the week, and they and the teachers all eat in the dining hall next to the main building.
The dining hall (left), opposite the main building
A typical breakfast consists of a hard-boiled egg, a couple of diced vegetable dishes, some watery rice (called congee), and some kind of biscuit. The ones pictured here are my favourite. They're baked to a golden brown. The other teachers go more for the other usual offering, which looks like a cinnamon roll. Except it doesn't have any cinnamon, and it's not baked but steamed. The consistency is kind of like raw dough, so I tend to avoid them.
After breakfast I head up to the third floor where the International classroom is situated, and gather my materials for that day's lessons. I teach History, Geography, and ESL, and I have a fourth class that is an extra helping of one of those three. So I have two classes in the morning, and two in the afternoon.
There are three other teachers in our staff room, plus a supervisor, and we all (except the one who is teaching) head down for lunch about 11:30, just before the student body.
Lining up to be served lunch
Serving up the food, noodles in this case
Utensils: wooden chopsticks, a spoon, and a wet cloth
Selecting sauce for the noodles
Lunch: a Chinese version of spaghetti and meat sauce
This is an unusual lunch, as we more often than not have a variety of Chinese dishes to choose from. I think they do this lunch for me. The cook asked for a list of food that I like, and this was one of the things on my list. It's pretty good, but I always wish for a fork when I eat noodles. I can use chopsticks fairly well, but I prefer a fork and a knife.
I like a little salt with my food, too, but my supervisor Linda looks askance when I bring out my salt shaker and keeps telling me it's bad for my health. I tell her that life needs a little extra spice to make it more interesting, but she's still dubious.
The students line up to eat
The dining hall
Dirty dishes: one big bowl for the soup bowls, another for the utensils, a garbage pail for leftover food, and stack the metal trays at the end
After lunch, I take a half hour walk around the school's athletic running track. If no-one walks with me, I listen to a Chinese language (Mandarin) learning course, and practice the words and phrases. I am getting a little better at it, and what I have learned has turned out to be very useful when I have to communicate when I am shopping or banking or whatever.
I also have a room where I can go to lie down if I want. Sometimes I listen to my language course a second time, but most of the time I just read. At 1:00, it's time to get ready for afternoon classes.
I head down to the dining hall at 4:30 for dinner. I have to eat early because the bus leaves just before 5.
A typical dinner is three or more of the six or seven dishes there are to choose from, a generous helping of rice, some soup, and a piece of fruit.
Like I said, there are a lot of stews on the menu, whether it is stewed vegetables or something with meat in it. There is a lot of pork and chicken. Beef is more expensive, so it is a rarity.
It's not usually very spicy, but sometimes I run into these pieces of a bark-like substance that is like to burn my tongue off if I bite into them.
The serving of rice you see here is considerably less than most others take. They really pack it away.
The soup is usually a clear broth with some vegetables or an egg stirred into it. And the fruit is usually an apple, an orange, or a banana.
On the weekends, I either eat out or make something for myself at home. It is then that I indulge my craving for western style food. But I haven't eaten at a lot of restaurants as it is still early days. There's a place near my house that makes fresh dim sum that I quite enjoy. You can get a plate of about 20 dumplings for about $2-3 Cdn, and a bottle of beer to go with is about another dollar on top of that. Pretty good.
I have seen western restaurant chains here, too: KFC, McDonald's, and Pizza Hut. Sigh. It's too bad that these represent us to the rest of the world.
I wanted to show you some pictures of the smog that enveloped Harbin a couple of weeks ago. It was a real pea-souper that literally shut down the city.
The dining hall from the main building. The smog was a bit clearer in the middle of the morning, but got worse as the day went on
Looking towards the athletic field
As less than half of the students had shown up that day, classes were cancelled, and we were given the next day off, as well. We had to make up those days we missed on two successive Saturdays. At least we would have, if on Friday the power hadn't gone out. They figured they couldn't get it repaired in time, so yesterday was a day off.
About the middle of last week, I felt an odd shaking as I was sitting at my desk. It was kind of like some sort of construction was causing the building to vibrate, but I later learned that there was an earthquake in Mongolia (just to the west of Harbin), and I had felt the tremor. It was a very odd sensation.
So there have been a few "disasters" here, both natural and man-made. I hope that that's as severe as they get.
This week coming up is going to be a short one for me, as I am going to Hong Kong on Wednesday to sort out my visa. The one I'm using now is only a temporary one, as this job came up so near to the start of the term they decided to bring me over as soon as possible rather than wait for a regular visa to be approved.
But that's a story for another time.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
I Am Hot
Well, not really.
But I will be once the management company that runs the building decides to turn on the heat. I have heard two dates: the 10th and the 20th of October. Flint will know what I am talking about. In Korea, they did not turn on the heat before a certain date, even if everyone was freezing to death. And in the spring, there is another particular date they wait for to turn on the air conditioning. At least in Korea, the con-apts that I lived in had personal controls so you could heat up or cool down on your own. But not in this worker's paradise. You have to wait just like the rest of the peons.
That's one of the things I will miss about Canada; the thermostat. How did Azrael put it?
But I will be once the management company that runs the building decides to turn on the heat. I have heard two dates: the 10th and the 20th of October. Flint will know what I am talking about. In Korea, they did not turn on the heat before a certain date, even if everyone was freezing to death. And in the spring, there is another particular date they wait for to turn on the air conditioning. At least in Korea, the con-apts that I lived in had personal controls so you could heat up or cool down on your own. But not in this worker's paradise. You have to wait just like the rest of the peons.
That's one of the things I will miss about Canada; the thermostat. How did Azrael put it?
No pleasure,
no rapture,
no exquisite sin is greater...
than central air.
On Wednesday last, the owner of this place came in with a workman to replace the radiators.
That's right. I said radiators. Hot water, hissing pipes, the whole bit. I haven't seen radiators since... well jeez, I may be old, but I'm not that old. I don't think I've ever seen a place heated by radiators.
I keep getting warnings from the locals about how bitterly cold the winter is going to be. I'm Canadian, so I just smile quietly to myself. But I guess they think I won't be able to handle it, so the existing rads in my place were replaced with much bigger ones.
The owner and a workman first arrived about 10:30 (I was expecting them at 9:00), looked over what I had, and went away for three hours. When they came back, they spent the afternoon replacing three of the smaller ones with two larger ones, and adding two small ones together.
So I guess I'll be warm enough this winter (once they actually turn the damn hot water on).
By the way, someone asked about the hot water for my shower, if it lasts long enough.
Don't worry, it stays warm plenty. I couldn't say the same about the first shower I had (in Korea), I can tell you. The roommate they stuck me with wasn't too bright, and he couldn't figure out how to make the hot water heater work properly. So he made the school put in a whole new water heater, similar to what I have here in China (only smaller). The problem was, the gas line for it, she came in through the bathroom window (Heh) so that you couldn't close it all the way during the coldest winter in Korean history.
The second roommate I had was much smarter, and he figured out how to fix the water heater so it worked properly.
So to keep on with the upgrades, I've been going to the main part of town as well as exploring my own area, and seeing what there is in the way of shopping. I went downtown to a Carrefour, just to pick up some things to eat. It's a pretty good store. There's not a lot of foreign foods, but I'm used to finding what I need in an Asian supermarket.
Yesterday (Saturday), I went to the big shopping centre, Hongbo Century Square. It is near Harbin's train and bus stations, so there were a lot of big crowds milling around aimlessly. As a manly man among men, I don't like shopping. I like to get in and get out as quickly as possible. But I had to put up with a lot of slow-moving objects in my way. Flint would hate it.
But I did get a good look at what they have there. It's a big underground shopping mall, built somewhat like a maze. I saw some mooks panicking when they couldn't find their way in.
Heh.
I did see some nice looking clothes that I would like to buy, including some jackets that my sister was talking to me about a while ago. They have these high Manchu-type collars. Very cool.
And I got lost. I got on a bus that I thought was going to take me back to my own neighbourhood, but it went in a whole 'nother direction. I was able to use what Chinese I have learned so far to ask for directions and tell people where I wanted to go, so it all ended happily.
At least I've got that going for me.
Today I went to another shopping centre near my house, just the other side of a university. It's a big one, and it has a lot of stuff that I need. I just may make it my primary shopping place, as it's so convenient.
So it's all coming together.
Now, about that hot water...
Monday, September 30, 2013
Life in Harbin (so far)
October has come in with fog and rain. Typical. I have a week off for China's birthday celebrations, and I'm stuck inside writing this post. Oh well.
On Sunday, our school had a "Sports Day," and all the parents came to see the students (and the teachers) take part in some running events. Even I got roped in to a three-legged type of event. Only it was a seven-legged race, as there were six of us tied together. There were three teams, each with three teachers and three parents. Our team came in dead last. We were co-ordinated enough to reach the finish line without falling over, we were just too damn slow.
I'm glad of the break, as it will give me some time to get ahead on my lessons. I want to add more than just me talking and pointing to things on the board or the Smartboard, which is what the students are used to, but not quite Canadian style.
I want to start doing a once a week class that will introduce them to some elements of the "Canadian lifestyle," so they won't be quite at sea when they get there. I know more than most how difficult it can be to make the transition to a new country, and I'd like to give them a little heads up.
So let me tell you a little bit about Harbin, which is China's northernmost city, with a population of about 10 million, with over 4 million in the city centre alone. The area where I am in is north of the river, and more sparsely populated. A lot of new development (including my school) being built.
The city was founded in 1897 as a camp for Russian engineers surveying the Trans-Siberian railway (see my earlier posts about my trip). The city takes its name from the original fishing village, which means "a place to dry nets." It kept on growing throughout the 20th Century, enduring occupation by the Japanese during the Second World War, and being fought over during the Chinese communist revolution after that. It is now a major city, a major player in China's economy, as well as the capital of the province of Heilongjiang.
People keep warning me about the cold winter that is coming, but I just come right back with tales of Canadian winters, and tell Harbin's winter to "bring it." I have a fairly warm coat.
So there.
Getting around is pretty easy. Cabs are plentiful and cheap. I took one from the south end of the city to my place for 30 yuan, which is about $5 Cdn. The buses are even cheaper. The one I take to the market costs about 1 yuan (around 16-17 cents. The buses are very similar to the ones I used to take in Korea. Old, uncomfortable, and driven by maniacs who race each other down the street, laying on the horn the whole time.
My first trip to the downtown area took me to the Zhongyang Dajie, or "Central Street," which is blocked off to vehicular traffic. It was Saturday, and the weather was good, so everyone was there. I saw the monument to Flood Control, which commemorates the several times the Songwha River has broken its banks.
A lot of the buildings are in the Russian style, and most of them have been kept up, though they have a variety of different kinds of stores and shops in them now. We found a bookstore where I got a map of the city (all in Chinese), and passed by several beer gardens. There is a beer festival every August, and the local brew is not too bad.
Of course, the big festival occurs in winter, when the main park on Sun Island becomes home to various ice sculptures and houses of ice. I'm looking forward to it.
I am studying Chinese, with a course from Pimsleurs, and I already know a few phrases, enough to get me around somewhat.
There is a Walmart on the central street, and there are various Carrefours, but the selection of foreign foods is limited. There is only one medium sized market in my area, and there are no open air markets at all. The one special treat that we had was an ice-cream bar that is particular to Harbin. There was a steady stream of people going to the various kiosks set up. The ice cream is not bad, kind of a cross between vanilla and white chocolate.
There were a lot of street foods available, from fresh fruit to barbecued meat on a stick. I also saw a lot of stalls that reminded me of the odang stalls back in Korea. Very thick noodles and fried dough. They also do a mean hotpot, and the Russian influence is still seen in the offerings of sausage and bread.
Near the market I go to is a string of restaurants that I have yet to sample. Nearer to my con-apt is a dumpling restaurant (dim sum) which cooks up some really good food.
I've read that there are some Korean restaurants in town, which might be good. I miss Korean food a lot. And when I get desperate, there are a couple of western style buffets at hotels like the Holiday Inn.
All of these things still have to be found and evaluated, the which task I am looking forward to.
On Sunday, our school had a "Sports Day," and all the parents came to see the students (and the teachers) take part in some running events. Even I got roped in to a three-legged type of event. Only it was a seven-legged race, as there were six of us tied together. There were three teams, each with three teachers and three parents. Our team came in dead last. We were co-ordinated enough to reach the finish line without falling over, we were just too damn slow.
The park near my house.
I'm glad of the break, as it will give me some time to get ahead on my lessons. I want to add more than just me talking and pointing to things on the board or the Smartboard, which is what the students are used to, but not quite Canadian style.
I want to start doing a once a week class that will introduce them to some elements of the "Canadian lifestyle," so they won't be quite at sea when they get there. I know more than most how difficult it can be to make the transition to a new country, and I'd like to give them a little heads up.
The city hall for that part of Harbin north of the river.
So let me tell you a little bit about Harbin, which is China's northernmost city, with a population of about 10 million, with over 4 million in the city centre alone. The area where I am in is north of the river, and more sparsely populated. A lot of new development (including my school) being built.
The city was founded in 1897 as a camp for Russian engineers surveying the Trans-Siberian railway (see my earlier posts about my trip). The city takes its name from the original fishing village, which means "a place to dry nets." It kept on growing throughout the 20th Century, enduring occupation by the Japanese during the Second World War, and being fought over during the Chinese communist revolution after that. It is now a major city, a major player in China's economy, as well as the capital of the province of Heilongjiang.
Walking down by the river.
People keep warning me about the cold winter that is coming, but I just come right back with tales of Canadian winters, and tell Harbin's winter to "bring it." I have a fairly warm coat.
So there.
Getting around is pretty easy. Cabs are plentiful and cheap. I took one from the south end of the city to my place for 30 yuan, which is about $5 Cdn. The buses are even cheaper. The one I take to the market costs about 1 yuan (around 16-17 cents. The buses are very similar to the ones I used to take in Korea. Old, uncomfortable, and driven by maniacs who race each other down the street, laying on the horn the whole time.
My first trip to the downtown area took me to the Zhongyang Dajie, or "Central Street," which is blocked off to vehicular traffic. It was Saturday, and the weather was good, so everyone was there. I saw the monument to Flood Control, which commemorates the several times the Songwha River has broken its banks.
A lot of the buildings are in the Russian style, and most of them have been kept up, though they have a variety of different kinds of stores and shops in them now. We found a bookstore where I got a map of the city (all in Chinese), and passed by several beer gardens. There is a beer festival every August, and the local brew is not too bad.
Of course, the big festival occurs in winter, when the main park on Sun Island becomes home to various ice sculptures and houses of ice. I'm looking forward to it.
Tour boat on the river
I am studying Chinese, with a course from Pimsleurs, and I already know a few phrases, enough to get me around somewhat.
There is a Walmart on the central street, and there are various Carrefours, but the selection of foreign foods is limited. There is only one medium sized market in my area, and there are no open air markets at all. The one special treat that we had was an ice-cream bar that is particular to Harbin. There was a steady stream of people going to the various kiosks set up. The ice cream is not bad, kind of a cross between vanilla and white chocolate.
There were a lot of street foods available, from fresh fruit to barbecued meat on a stick. I also saw a lot of stalls that reminded me of the odang stalls back in Korea. Very thick noodles and fried dough. They also do a mean hotpot, and the Russian influence is still seen in the offerings of sausage and bread.
Near the market I go to is a string of restaurants that I have yet to sample. Nearer to my con-apt is a dumpling restaurant (dim sum) which cooks up some really good food.
I've read that there are some Korean restaurants in town, which might be good. I miss Korean food a lot. And when I get desperate, there are a couple of western style buffets at hotels like the Holiday Inn.
All of these things still have to be found and evaluated, the which task I am looking forward to.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Stig Goes to China
It was a long summer of job searching. I must have sent out over a hundred resumes to schools looking for teachers in Alberta, B.C. Saskatchewan, Yukon, and the Northwest Territories. I had one interview, in a school near Edson, but they offered the job to someone else. Friends and former teachers offered me advice, and I tinkered with my resume and fleshed out my online portfolio, but I still received nary an offer.
A friend of mine who I knew from Korea was urging me to apply for a job teaching and China, and so I got in touch with a recruiter that he recommended. I got a job offer from them, but it was retracted after the principal of the school read this blog and "What the Kimchi?". He was upset by the language.
I was beginning to despair when one of my professors passed on information about a job in Harbin, China, teaching Canadian subjects to Grade 10 students who would go on to live and study Grade 11 and 12 in Canada. The recruiter and a representative of the school talked to me via Skype. I think I did most of the talking and asking questions, and I was offered the job fairly soon after the interview. There was some urgency about getting me there, as it was already late August, and classes started the day after Labour Day.
The school, the Harbin American-Canadian Foreign Language School (not sure I like the billing there), was a brand new facility, a branch of an already existing school in Suchow. There were 16 students when I arrived, and two have joined since then. I am thinking that more students will swell the class size as the year progresses.
When I was studying for my degree, and the conversation turned to what kind of school we wanted after graduation, I was always 50/50 on whether I wanted a job in Canada, or a return to overseas work. Since I have made the decision (and especially since I made the trip), I have committed fully to this institution, and intend to do the best job I can.
The need for me to be on the job so quickly necessitated some subterfuge reminiscent of how I used to go to work in Korea. To get a proper work visa would take too long, so I came as an exchange teacher, and I will go to Hong Kong at some point soon and get a proper work visa.
The visa process went smoothly, and the recruiter arranged for the ticket. All I had to do was endure the flight from Calgary to Vancouver to Shanghai to Harbin. I wish that I could sleep on airplanes, but nothing I try seems to work, especially when there are a lot of young children and babies making a fuss in the cabin.
I was met at the airport by a couple from the school, and we loaded my bags into the small car for the ride to the school. We all just barely fit inside. The school is set up in the northwest of Harbin, in an area of new developments the other side of the river from the main part of town.
It is quite a river. It is in flood right now, and some islands that are usually parks in the summer are under water. You can see trees and houses sticking up here and there.
The school is quite a facility, and it is so new the builders haven't finished yet. As I was escorted up to a third floor office with the classroom next door, I wondered where everyone was. It seemed like we were the only people in the whole structure. It turns out there are about 100 or so other students in the school. I wondered where they all had been hiding when they all trooped into the dining hall for the afternoon meal.
I didn't actually have to teach anything that first day, just meet the students for a couple of minutes. I slept in a hotel that night and moved into an apartment they'd found the next day.
The hotel was interesting. It reminded me of those "Love motels" in Korea, with the various products that complimented the nuts and pop in the mini bar.
There was a product of a company called "Shantone" that promised, "Let you are in intense emotion the safety slips," and "The Man Controls."
Also, "Woman Joy Sex Oil" magic herbs extraction, and his and hers socks and underwear (just in case).
Heh.
The apartment they found for me is pretty nice. It's on the 7th floor, with a view of the river to the east and west - directly in front is another apartment building. I asked if they could knock it down for me, but apparently there's some regulation against it.
Oh well.
I started in teaching straightaway, and have gradually begun to incorporate more into the lessons than just me talking to them. I have been teaching History, English, and Geography from the Ontario curriculum. There are four other teachers that work with me. They and the students have all taken English names. The supervisor is Linda, and she co-teached English with me when she is not busy with other matters. The other English teacher is Mrs. Zhang. Annie helps me with History class, and my co-teacher in Geography is "Ocean.
The students' English level is not as high as I was expecting, and there have been some struggles as we get used to each other. I have been trying to keep my voice and energy level up, and have had to ask for some interpreting of some of the more difficult language. I have also been trying to make the lessons as relevant and interesting as I can. I teach nineteen 40-minute classes per week. It's been difficult, as there are not as many resources to fall back on like you might find in the average Canadian school. We didn't even have internet for the first week.
But we have been persevering, and I have been working hard to establish a good rapport with the students. The lessons I learned at Ambrose have not gone to waste.I was told on the q.t. (so don't tell anyone, okay?) by Linda last week that the administration of the school has been so happy with my work so far that I may be in line for a bonus. I don't think that the work I have done so far is reflective of the best that I have to offer, but I do think of it as a good start.
A friend of mine who I knew from Korea was urging me to apply for a job teaching and China, and so I got in touch with a recruiter that he recommended. I got a job offer from them, but it was retracted after the principal of the school read this blog and "What the Kimchi?". He was upset by the language.
I was beginning to despair when one of my professors passed on information about a job in Harbin, China, teaching Canadian subjects to Grade 10 students who would go on to live and study Grade 11 and 12 in Canada. The recruiter and a representative of the school talked to me via Skype. I think I did most of the talking and asking questions, and I was offered the job fairly soon after the interview. There was some urgency about getting me there, as it was already late August, and classes started the day after Labour Day.
The school, the Harbin American-Canadian Foreign Language School (not sure I like the billing there), was a brand new facility, a branch of an already existing school in Suchow. There were 16 students when I arrived, and two have joined since then. I am thinking that more students will swell the class size as the year progresses.
When I was studying for my degree, and the conversation turned to what kind of school we wanted after graduation, I was always 50/50 on whether I wanted a job in Canada, or a return to overseas work. Since I have made the decision (and especially since I made the trip), I have committed fully to this institution, and intend to do the best job I can.
The need for me to be on the job so quickly necessitated some subterfuge reminiscent of how I used to go to work in Korea. To get a proper work visa would take too long, so I came as an exchange teacher, and I will go to Hong Kong at some point soon and get a proper work visa.
The visa process went smoothly, and the recruiter arranged for the ticket. All I had to do was endure the flight from Calgary to Vancouver to Shanghai to Harbin. I wish that I could sleep on airplanes, but nothing I try seems to work, especially when there are a lot of young children and babies making a fuss in the cabin.
I was met at the airport by a couple from the school, and we loaded my bags into the small car for the ride to the school. We all just barely fit inside. The school is set up in the northwest of Harbin, in an area of new developments the other side of the river from the main part of town.
It is quite a river. It is in flood right now, and some islands that are usually parks in the summer are under water. You can see trees and houses sticking up here and there.
The school is quite a facility, and it is so new the builders haven't finished yet. As I was escorted up to a third floor office with the classroom next door, I wondered where everyone was. It seemed like we were the only people in the whole structure. It turns out there are about 100 or so other students in the school. I wondered where they all had been hiding when they all trooped into the dining hall for the afternoon meal.
The teacher's room, with my desk on the far right.
I didn't actually have to teach anything that first day, just meet the students for a couple of minutes. I slept in a hotel that night and moved into an apartment they'd found the next day.
The hotel was interesting. It reminded me of those "Love motels" in Korea, with the various products that complimented the nuts and pop in the mini bar.
There was a product of a company called "Shantone" that promised, "Let you are in intense emotion the safety slips," and "The Man Controls."
Also, "Woman Joy Sex Oil" magic herbs extraction, and his and hers socks and underwear (just in case).
Heh.
The apartment they found for me is pretty nice. It's on the 7th floor, with a view of the river to the east and west - directly in front is another apartment building. I asked if they could knock it down for me, but apparently there's some regulation against it.
Oh well.
My apartment building.
My view to the east...
and the west.
The door of my apartment, with doors to the kitchen (left) and bathroom (right).
The kitchen. I have one, count it: one gas burner.
The bathroom. Note the hot water heater above the tiolet. I have to plug that in and wait 10-15 minutes before the water's hot enough for a shower.
That's the washing machine in the lower left corner.
My wardrobe and bed, with the usual far east style mattress: hard as a rock.
The "living room," with 'puter station, table, and... refrigerator?!
I started in teaching straightaway, and have gradually begun to incorporate more into the lessons than just me talking to them. I have been teaching History, English, and Geography from the Ontario curriculum. There are four other teachers that work with me. They and the students have all taken English names. The supervisor is Linda, and she co-teached English with me when she is not busy with other matters. The other English teacher is Mrs. Zhang. Annie helps me with History class, and my co-teacher in Geography is "Ocean.
The students' English level is not as high as I was expecting, and there have been some struggles as we get used to each other. I have been trying to keep my voice and energy level up, and have had to ask for some interpreting of some of the more difficult language. I have also been trying to make the lessons as relevant and interesting as I can. I teach nineteen 40-minute classes per week. It's been difficult, as there are not as many resources to fall back on like you might find in the average Canadian school. We didn't even have internet for the first week.
But we have been persevering, and I have been working hard to establish a good rapport with the students. The lessons I learned at Ambrose have not gone to waste.I was told on the q.t. (so don't tell anyone, okay?) by Linda last week that the administration of the school has been so happy with my work so far that I may be in line for a bonus. I don't think that the work I have done so far is reflective of the best that I have to offer, but I do think of it as a good start.
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