Pissue Paper

Day 6 in India

2009-03-22T21:08:00.003-04:00

Feb 21/09

We're in Haridwar now. We decided against Varanasi. Actually, the fully booked train decided for us.

Back in Canada I had decided not to bring my Lonely Planet Guide book with me to India because it was huge and weighed a bajillion kg and I'd have had to pay extra for the extra weight on the plane (K, maybe it's not that heavy), so instead I photocopied what I thought would be the necessary pages. And what I thought were only necessary were Delhi and Varanasi, not taking into account the total unreliability of trains and buses and general transportation in India.

So based on the recommondation of Rajan we hopped on a whiplash-inducing 8 hour, dirty, gross, squishy bus ride and started heading to Rishikesh.

I cannot fully emphasize the state of this bus. It had plastic seats, was small and crowded and was more reminiscent of a city bus like the TTC than a long-distance bus meant for hours and hours and hours of SLAM stop. SLAM go. SLAM stop. SLAM go. And oh man, the insistent, steady horns! Just like in China, the way vehicles announce their presence is by blaring on the horns and when you have hundreds of vehicles on any given road at any given time, it gets loud.

Very, very loud.

And then... oh, this is hard. I'd rather put it out of my memory. Oh my word, the mosquitoes. The mosquitoes! Constantly buzzing, flitting around your exposed sandal-clad feet. I nearly drowned myself in repellent, but I'm proud to say that I escaped with only one bite on my toe. Thus far, anyway.

So yeah, we're in Haridwar. We're supposed to be in Rishikesh but when there's a bus strike going on between Haridwar and Rishikesh, what can one do?

Well, if you're Indian you can easily make a few calls and find a place to crash for the night (at this point, it was midnight). And if you're a young foreign girl, you can blindly trust a nice man when he tells you he'll find you a cheap hotel.

So here we are. In a 500INR per night hotel. In Haridwar. With no way to get to Rishikesh.

And this hotel is really gross. I don't know if this is my Canadian standard speaking or if I'm basing it on what I expect Indian conditions to be like. The pillows were once white and now they're a deep grey. The sheets were also once white but are now a muddy brown, with splotches of blood. Yes, blood. Oh wait, did I say sheets (plural)? I mean sheet (singular). There's just the one covering the mattress. And then there's a 50kg duvet insert folded up at the foot of the bed. No cover. Just insert.

We met another Canadian (represent!) on the bus. We saved her from the same man who tried to direct us to the wrong bus. She's been travelling around Australia, Nepal, India and surrounding areas for the past two months and is going to continue on for another three months. The stories she has are pretty incredible and make me regret further that I actually agreed to come for only two weeks. Two weeks! What was I thinking?

Anyway, hopefully the buses will be running tomorrow and we can get over to Rishikesh. It sounds like an interesting city. It was apparently put on the map by the Beatles in the '60's as the place where they found enlightenment and transcendental meditation. It is also the birthplace of Yoga and has the nickname of The City of Yoga.

Our loose plan thus far for the weekend (if we can get there) is to do some yoga, maybe some white water rafting, lots of meditating and attempting to find our inner selves. We also hope to hit up Rajiji National Park which is supposed to have every animal under the sun but whether or not you see them is a different issue.

Day 4 in India

2009-03-21T19:55:00.000-04:00

Feb 15/09

Today we went to Connaught Place Area: a huge traffic circle that branches off into many smaller streets filled with shopping of all kinds. Everything from Western shops like Levi's to smaller Mom and Pop shops selling custom-made traditional Indian wear.

The whole place was pretty cool, hectic beyond all belief though with all the cars, trucks, taxis and scooters etc.

We went to the underground bazaar where I bought myself a bag for this weekend in Varanasi, since all I have is my massive backpackers bag. So this one's a nice cute little thing that will fit one or two changes of clothes. I paid 300INR or approximately $7.50CAD.

And then I bought a pashmina for way more than it is worth but the man selling them was so cute and friendly talking about wanting to take his fiance to Cape Town for their honeymoon, that I just fell into his trap, hook, line and sinker and paid about $8CAD.

Day 3 in India

2009-03-20T18:50:00.000-04:00

Feb 18/09

After we finished teaching at 12:30 we were picked up, quickly ate a hot, delicious lunch and were driven through ridiculous, insane traffic with construction galore (they're building a Metro system here in Delhi), overcongestion of cars, rickshaws, 3-wheel taxis, bikes, scooters, motorcycles, buses, trucks, cows, pedestrians, dogs and whatever else could possibly squeeze itself onto the road.

After about an hour and fifteen minutes of dangerous navigation on behalf of our driver (who later ripped us off), we arrived at Jama Masjid - the largest mosque in India. Truly stunning.

It took about 14 years to build and is made of red sandstone and white marble. Apparently the view is particularly stunning from the towers but as unaccompanied women, we were not allowed to go up.

When we first arrived, we were not allowed in because our arms were showing and this is indecent exposure for a holy place. So they provided us with robes that looked like hospital gowns. Sexy! We didn't feel that out of place or ridiculous though, as every other foreign woman there had one on.

We braved the traffic some more and next headed to Red Fort (Lal Qila), a huge fort that took 10 years to build - which isn't surprising as it's 2km long and up to 33m high in some parts. Unfortunately, we didn't realize just how huge is is and didn't give ourself nearly enough time to explore. And just to make matters worse, my camera battery died. But the pictures I would have provided you with would have looked something like these.

After that we were rushed off to Raj Ghat, the place where Mahatma Gandhi was cremated after being assassinated. It's a large park, and in the very centre is a very simple marble slab with a flame marking Gandhi's cremation spot. The whole park is quite beautiful, well-kept, green and filled with many trees.

Our driver then took us to ITDC - Indian Textile Development Corporation. An Indian fabrics factory where the prices are fixed and supposedly cheapest (but isn't that what they all say?). We might head back another day because I really would love to get a saree or a pashmina.

I've decided that I'm in love with India - it's big, loud, suffocating, dirty, poor, polluted and - at times - unsafe, but it's so completely and totally full of life that I think it's hard not to get a second-hand high off of it.

Happy School

2009-03-19T13:33:00.003-04:00

So a bit about the school at which I'm volunteering.

We were supposed to be situated in an orphanage for mentally and physically disabled children in the outskirts of Delhi - about 45km outside - but Rajan decided for some reason that we'd be better off in the middle of the city at the school run by volunteers, and for students who can't afford public school.

So instead we're staying with Rajan in quite comfortable accomodations - I mean, yeah, we had to give up the luxuries of the orphanage such as squat toilets, no electricity, no running water, no clean water, lentil soup, lentil soup and more lentil soup, but I supposed we'll manage here.

We teach from 8am until 1pm, including a short break and a small bowl of lunch. Today, my first day, we taught them volleyball, which none of them had ever played, seen or heard of before. And then we moved on to English lessons where I basically tried to gauge what level they are at.

The school is called The Happy School and is run entirely by volunteers. The story behind it is quite incredible.

It was started by the principal Kamil Capoor on her front lawn with only 5 students from her neighbourhood. It quickly began to grow as more students showed up in her classes and people began to offer their assistance and to volunteer time. Eventually it moved to the road, and then a small building nearby until it finally grew to the small school that it is now.

All of the teachers are volunteers, all the food is donated, all of the books, computers, playground equipment, and even the school itself was technically a donation.

You can check out the website, http://www.thehappyschool.in/ and feel free to donate in any way you can. Trust me, they can always use the help and this way you know where it's gonna go.

Day 2 in India

2009-03-18T13:02:00.001-04:00

Feb. 17/09

So this is technically my second day in India and I feel a lot less of a culture shock than I thought I would feel. It reminds me a lot of certain areas of China, specifically Xinjiang province.

When we were flying over Delhi, at first my thought was "oh wow, big buildings" but then it became about the smaller buildings. And then about the big houses. And then about the smaller houses. And then I fixated on the huts, the hundreds of huts dumped together on one block, housing how many hundreds of people, I couldn't even begin to guess.

It was remarkably easy getting out of the airport. It never ceases to amaze me how generally universal the whole airport ordeal is: customs, security, ridiculously long waits for your luggage.

I found Rajan, my coordinator easily enough, he had a sign with my name. We hopped into his car - on the left side, I might add - and started heading towards the city of Delhi. Honestly, I didn't pay that much attention to the scenery as I couldn't get over how much like bumper cars it felt, sitting on the driver's side without driving.

We've spent our afternoons exploring the general area around us, managing to find a Baskin Robbins! And it looks and tastes exactly the same as it does in Canada.

And today we made horrible pasta with tomato sauce for Rajan and his wife. The only thing we could find in the 'grocery store' (more like a convenience store) was a massively large can of pureed tomatoes and a small can of Ragu pizza sauce.

We ended up boiling the water with a bit of onion and garlic and added half the can of pureed tomatoes with the whole can of Ragu sauce and way, way too much pasta.

The whole thing was ridiculously bland. Not just by Western standards (which is remarkably dull compared to the wild, spicy, exotic tastes of genuine Indian food) but by every standard in the world.

We were embarrassed.

Very, very embarrassed.

I'm not even sure how we ended up agreeing to make the pasta for them, and honestly, if I wanted to go about making Western food for other people, it wouldn't be through half a can of pureed tomatoes, a can of pizza sauce, and two bags of macaroni pasta.

Nah, I'd go with a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich.

PS when I say "we" I'm generally talking about myself and the other Canadian that I met in China last year. We kept in touch over the months and decided to go on another adventure together.

London Calling

2009-03-17T12:13:00.004-04:00

Feb. 15/09

I'm now on the Underground in London heading to the stop called Piccadilly Circus which is where all - or most - of the big tourist sites are.

The Underground kind of smells, but the seats are comfy and it's rather clean.

There is an oddly large number of advertisements for Canada. Specifically Alberta.

I'm at the airport now. Once again with far too much time to waste. I'm proud to say that even with the shortage of touring time, the utter lack of knowledge of London, the rain, and being alone, I got a lot accomplished and had tonnes of fun.

I got off at Piccadilly Circus and ended up walking the wrong way from - literally - just about everything.

So typical.

I didn't really clue into my going the wrong way until after I'd walked for maybe 25 minutes. And yes, I did have a map - but in my defense, a map is useless if you don't even know where you're starting out.

Eventually, I turned myself around and found St James Park with Buckingham Palace next to it - honestly, that bit was kind of boring. I don't remember Buckingham Palace being that... I dunno... plain. Which makes me wonder if it was actually Buckingham Palace I was looking at. According to my very close analysis of the map, it was. But that's really not saying much, considering I walked in the wrong direction for nearly half an hour.

My camera battery died right before I got to Buckingham Palace. I did, however, get some shots on my phone.

I saw and took many pictures of the Parliament Buildings, Big Ben, Westminster Abby, Westminster Cathedral, Wellington Arch, Westminster Bridge (I was too far away from London Bridge, unfortunately) and the Thames River.

I walked through St James Square, Leicester Square and Trafalgar Square.

I watched part of a cavalry show at the Horse Guards Parade Ground.

One thing I would LOVE to live in London for: their libraries. They have so many of them! All over the place! If I had only a week to get a better dose of London, I would spend at least 3 days devoted to exploring the various libraries.

On the way back from my day of vigorous sightseeing and getting lost, I actually managed to find the correct route back to the airport, and I think this fact alone makes me eligible to live in London - there are 14 different routes, and in Central London they all merge and crisscross.

So you all need to know that I'm a truly amazing person, just for that fact alone.

Pre-departure

2009-03-16T11:51:00.003-04:00

Feb. 13/09

It seems to be a sort of ritual of mine to stay up until ungodly hours the night before travelling. I've convinced myself it's to get used to the time difference. I don't want to be caught jetlagged and utterly exhausted.

Yes, I realize that's rather a moot point as I'll be exhausted from getting a mere 2-3 hours of sleep for several consecutive nights.

Feb. 14/09

I'm at the airport. It took me exactly 14 minutes to check my baggage, go through security and find my gate. I've got 2 hours and 20 minutes until boarding and I've already been here for 40 minutes.

I'm deathly bored.

It's Valentine's day so there's no one I feel I can safely annoy with phone calls.

What's likely to happen is I'll stop at one of the restaurants here and eat my boredom away. And then I'll regret having done that - having eaten as much as I did - because I won't have the luxury of a stable private toilet or space to move around, sprawl out and be comfortable. Then I'll land in London and be bloated and possibly constipated and how much would that suck? Being bloated and constipated in London? Probably almost as much as it'll suck being bloated and constipated in India.

Although, by the sounds of it, with the warnings people have given me, I'm more likely to have problems of the other variety - the explosive variety.

This is what happens when you're sitting in an airport bored and alone, you start writing about explosive bowel movements.

I've just discovered that my flight has been delayed. Oh joy. I'm making the best of it by sitting here with a grande Double Chocolatey Chip Frappuchino from Starbucks.

I just changed $40CAD over to Rupees. It came to 1400INR. I can't even begin to describe how rich that makes me feel.

Pissue-Paper has Moved On

2009-03-16T10:13:00.003-04:00

I have been really lax in my blogging, I realize. Actually, that really doesn't sum it up, does it? "Lax" implies that I was merely slacking, when in fact, I completely stopped. No excuses, really. I'm sorry.

But! I'm back! And I just had a lovely time in India. I spent two weeks volunteering at a school in Delhi. The kids were awesome. The other teachers were awesome. The school itself was awesome. The four days of touring at the end was awesome. The whole goshdarned experience was just awesome!

My one and only regret is that two weeks was not nearly enough time. But that's ok, that just means I'll have to go back some day.

But for now, I will actually be updating this blog with pictures and stories of my far-too-brief stay in India.

T-Minus Six Hours

2008-06-28T01:24:00.003-04:00

So, school is done.

The children have left.

I'll be leaving for my next adventure in a few hours.

Gah.

This is all incredibly bittersweet.

I'll be heading out to catch an 18 hour sleeper train that will take us to Xi'an, where the infamous Terra Cotta warriors are. After that we're catching another billion hour train ride to Lanzhou, the home place of pulled noodles where there is the most incredibly precise and specific technique to making them. It's insane. And delicious.

After a day or two there, we'll be hitting up the province of Xinjiang. The most western province of China, it borders 8 other countries, most of which are middle eastern, there is a major influence of said countries and in many places one can expect to forget they're even in China: the language is different, the food is different, the writing style is different, the religion is predominantly Muslim, it should be awesome! We'll be touring the Silk Road and the Gobi desert before eventually flying back to Shanghai.

At that point I will be leaving the rest of my fellow travellers and making my way up to Beijing for about a week before I fly home to CANADA on July 22nd.

I plan on taking approximately 38, 000, 002 pictures and then posting them along with my adventures (of which I'm sure there will be many) when I get back to Canada and to the land of non-dial-up and crappy connections.

Until then...

Apples vs Watermelon

2008-06-12T07:00:00.003-04:00

Let me explain to you the Chinese education system as it was explained to me:

You go to the supermarket where there are apples and watermelons. Apples are university and watermelons are high school. Apples are 9RMB and watermelons are 8RMB. You can afford apples, and you can afford watermelons. You may want both, but your mother told you to get apples. What happens if you only have 7RMB? Too bad, you can't have either, go back to work and make more money.

For all you non-metaphorically inclined people: if you have good enough grades you can go straight into university after middle school if that's the direction your intended career path is heading.

Apples = university.
Watermelons = high school.
Money = grades.
Mother = career path.

This may seem crazy until you consider how different the age and grades are:

Kindergarten - age 5/6
Primary School, grades 1 to 6 - age 7-12
Middle School, grades 7 to 9 - age 13-16
High School, grades 10 to 12 - age 17-20

So there ya go, bit of random edumacational trivia for you.

Right Now!

2008-06-11T07:29:00.003-04:00

I'm on TV right now!

WJTV - I speak (mumble) a bit of Chinese, I welcome the viewer to the school (in English, with lots of enthusiasm), I teach one of my lessons, I play games with my students and I talk (pretend to - there's a massive language barrier) with the other teachers.

Such fun!

It'll be on again in a couple hours, so if you're skilled at time travel, are in the area and have a television nearby you can check it out!

Canadian

2008-06-09T01:05:00.000-04:00

You know you're Canadian when...

You make a slide show for your grade 7 students about different food in Canada and how it's usually quite international, and then devote two entire slides just to Tim Horton's.

Beast

2008-06-06T04:29:00.002-04:00

Last night at around 9:00, one of the teachers came knocking on my door. She came to deliver some of these funky fruits for me to try.

It's some kind of a berry with a pit in the middle.

I don't know what it is about the teachers here, but they'll never fully enter my room, but nor will they stay outside. Instead they stand just inside the doorframe so I can never actually close the door.

9:00 in the evening is a bad time of day to keep the front door open. Check out the absolute beast she let in. Scared the crap out of me when I went to turn out my light and the creature flew into my peripheral vision.

Speaking of bugs and creepy crawly things, I found this huge dragonfly in the stairwell today.

Smelly

2008-06-04T08:42:00.001-04:00

I wish this blog could post smells.

There are a lot of things in China I wish you could smell.

Like the sweet-flavoured popcorn I just made to absolute perfection (for once).

Or the deoderant I bought yesterday (yay!).

Or the smell of bus exhaust mixed with cigarette smoke mixed with chow mien mixed with raw meat.

Ok, maybe not the last one. Unless I was in a particularly bad mood and felt that misery deserved company...

Oh Happy Day!

2008-06-03T09:58:00.004-04:00

I FOUND DEODERANT!

Seriously, there were several days and several moments where I felt like posting about my lack of deoderant and subsequent fear of BO, but there's a reason it's called "personal hygiene".

I felt that this was a cause for celebration though, and since a celebration is always merrier with more people, I figured, "meh, presumably my readers are all human, of course they'd understand, so why shouldn't I share this fantabulous news?!"

I FOUND DEODERANT!

I found three sticks in the supermarket, snuggled between the condoms and the hair removal products.

China doesn't really have deoderant, I'm not sure what they use - if anything - to make themselves smell pretty, but honestly, I've never noticed an intense BO smell, so I never really thought anything of it.

Until I ran out of my own personal stash of deoderant.

I had read before I moved out here that deoderant hardly existed, so I stocked up on what I doubted would be enough but figured I could easily have some sent over. The thing about this logic, is that it's best to ask for some more before you run out.

Or it's best not to rely on the Chinese post when you choose to ask for more.

The post is extraordinarily late in sending me my deoderant. I don't even wanna tell you how late, because it's not a pretty number. Of course, now that I've found some here, I can guarantee it'll show up tomorrow or the day after.

You know how you don't realize how much you love something until it's gone? Deoderant is a perfect example.

I got really paranoid about how I smelled: I showered two or three times a day, focusing especially on my armpits, which just gave me a rash; I changed my clothes constantly; I minimized my movements as best as I could, standing at the front of the class, stiff as a board, with my arms at my side. I was like one of those meerkats with their nose always in the air, sniffing away, and the second I smelled something funky I'd freak out that it might be me. In the meantime, in the back of my head, there was always that bit of trivia that you can never really smell yourself, and that made me freak out even more, because if that smell I smell is actually me, good lord, I feel sorry for everyone else.

It was a vicious circle because I'm pretty sure all this paranoia and worry about how I smelled just made matters worse.

But it's all good now, because...

I FOUND DEODERANT!

Storm

2008-06-02T07:42:00.020-04:00

We had the most awesome storm last week. It was so incredibly intense that there's honestly nothing I can compare it to in Canada - well Southern Ontario, anyway.

Naturally I left my window open, because it really couldn't work out any other way, could it? All my clean clothes that were hanging to dry were soaked and muddied because the screen was so dirty, there's water damage on the walls and around the windows, and the front door leaked enough water to flood a quarter of my room. The field was basically just a giant puddle by the time it was all finally finished.

I had a couple classes during the storm, which was actually a great educational experience for the kids: at the beginning of the semester I taught them about weather and "storm" was one of the words, but because we never had storms at the right time of day they only knew the English words through the photos I showed. So now they can say "it is stormy." Isn't that exciting?

It was so adorable though, because they were so terrified of the thunder and lightning, they'd jump in their chairs and their eyes would go super wide, and they'd run up and hug me for protection from the storm - I felt like Maria from The Sound of Music. Again. Except I didn't "sing" this time.

It's my birfday

2008-05-30T04:08:00.002-04:00

Hello folks!

21 year old Natalya comin' at ya!

Today is my birthday in Canada, and yesterday was my birthday in China and for another couple hours it's my birthday still in Hawaii. I figure since I'm all the way out here in China I might as well celebrate in an international manner and therefore I am selflessly stretching my birthday out for a full 36 hours.

Yesterday the school gave me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and a large, lavish cake with lots of sugary, sweet icing. I found that the cake was more air than it was substance, but it was pretty good nonetheless.

Anyway, happy birthday to me!

Earthquake

2008-05-13T09:45:00.003-04:00

Hey folks,

Just sending out a note to all you concerned and wonderful people:

I am alive and well. Only very minor tremors were felt in my area, even though we are a huge distance away. I personally did not feel it, but people downtown in the city just a few minutes away did and were obviously startled. A piece of my school's roof fell off - but I don't know if that was because of the earthquake or just ridiculously coincidental timing.

It was, however, definitely felt in Shanghai and in Beijing - cities over 1500km away from the quake as well as in a few of the surrounding countries. This is said to be the worst earthquake to hit China in over 3 decades - registering at a 7.9 on the Richter scale - and the death toll has now reached an estimated 1200 people. In the meantime there are thousands of survivors buried under fallen buildings, just waiting to be rescued.

Unfortunately, it's events like these that remind me how fragile a life is and how insanely grateful I ought to be that I'm even alive.

It also reminds me that I have many awesome, kind, caring, and concerned people in my life. So I'd like to thank you all for your emails, messages and phone calls - I am indeed alive and physically far away from the tragedy.

Watermelon

2008-04-30T08:48:00.002-04:00

It's pretty self-explanatory if you just watch it.

Lobsters

2008-04-30T07:47:00.000-04:00

As you know, my school gives me gifts. Strange gifts. Well, I think they're strange anyway. That's not to say I don't like them. I most certainly do. I like strawberries, and pears, and apples, and oranges.

Tomorrow is May Day. China gets the day off basically to thank its workers and labourers for all they do. So I guess in celebration of May Day and the long weekend, my school gave me lobsters.

A great big, steaming bowl of lobsters.

I swear the bowl had to weigh about 10lbs. I am honestly not exaggerating.

What They Said

2008-04-29T05:49:00.003-04:00

I was reading old entries from my journal from before I left Canada for China and I thought I'd share this one with you over a couple of posts.

"You know, their food is so fresh you have to catch it yourself, eh? "Here chicken, c'mere chicken, cluck cluck." And when you want milk, you'll have to catch the cow..."

The Country

2008-04-28T11:30:00.002-04:00

This weekend I hung out with a couple of my students – cousins that live about 45 minutes out into the country.

I was super excited as I’ve wanted to see what the country life of China is like. Not that I know a whole lot about country life in Canada. But still.

Before going to their house we went to Dalin Temple to do some praying. I was given a bundle of incense sticks labelled with “happiness” in Chinese. After lighting the entire bundle I held it in both hands, raised it to my head and lowered it down to about my waist, and repeated that movement twice, followed by three short jerky shakes before sticking the whole bundle into a pile of previously lit sticks that had disintegrated to ashes.

After roaming around and checking out some more of the temple, we climbed a mountain.

It’s not really a mountain but a big hill that’s been given the name of a mountain. At the top of the mountain was a pagoda about 5 stories tall. We climbed this too and were rewarded with a magnificent view. And this time, my camera worked.

On the way back down I found a cemetery. The others weren’t as interested in it as I was so we didn’t get to explore, unfortunately.

We stopped at their place for some lunch. In parts of Canada, living in the country means driving up to twenty minutes (or more) to visit your next door neighbours. It’s not as drastic in China, but given the population that’s really not surprising. There were a lot of fields surrounding the area with various plants, veggies and fruits growing.

And they had dogs! I was too busy petting them and playing with them to take pictures. Apparently I was well-liked with these dogs. The family seemed genuinely surprised that the dogs took to me as quickly as they did. Made me miss my pups back home though.

After eating a delicious meal – in which they seriously over-fed me with everything they could think of because they didn’t know what I liked - we headed down the block to a farm park

The park had playgrounds with climbing equipment; a pond where we played our own version of bumper boat; an obstacle course in water (which I was reluctant to join but glad when I did); and a small museum chronicling the use and growth of farm equipment.

On the way back to the school, we stopped at a fruit market where I was completely spoiled with various kinds of fruit and I can now officially say the infamous jar of fruit in my fridge now has company.

*Will add pictures when my internet stops being an ass. You can expect a sudden, dramatic overload of posts (most likely without pictures) as I get frustrated with the accumulation of unpublished but completed ones gathering in the edit posts folder.*

I'm On The Radio-oh-oh

2008-04-25T03:22:00.003-04:00

Today, just before heading for our lunch break, one of the Chinese English teachers approached me and asked if I was busy after lunch, and if not, would I go to the local radio station and record an advertisement for our school? Um, heck yes.

So directly after lunch we trooped on over to the local station where I was asked to simply say (in English) the full name of our school.

I’m embarrassed to say that it took several tries and that at one point they were considering just having the Chinese English teacher say it instead. But they realized that my accent would almost definitely work at bringing in curious people. Apparently my first several tries weren’t enthusiastic enough, were too quiet, I didn’t sound happy, or they wanted me to sound younger (what? Really? You want a twenty year-old teacher to sound younger?). So finally I refused the chair and did it standing up in only one take.

Afterwards, though, they asked if I’d be willing to do an interview for the local news (or it maybe a commercial, I’m not entirely sure), I’d most likely just have to talk about some aspects of my Canadian life and talk a bit about teaching in China. Naturally, I said yes.

Anything for my fans.

Fire!

2008-04-24T07:11:00.007-04:00

So I was in my room this afternoon, getting ready for my last class when I heard the usual chatter and screaming of my students outside. When I looked out the window in passing, I saw what appeared to be all of my students heading out to the field.

Curious as to what was going on and whether or not I’d still be teaching my usual class, I grabbed my camera and ran out to join them.

In Canada, a fire drill consists of notices being sent out to teachers ahead of time with the approximate time of the upcoming drill and any further instructions needed. A piercing, annoying, and ridiculously loud alarm goes off; the students freak out in excitement, are yelled at (in vain) to line up single-file and then traipse out to the outskirts of the school property – all the while chatting to their friends over the scream of the alarm.

In China, a fire drill consists of everyone in the entire school traipsing outside to the track field, bunching up in their classes behind boundaries drawn out in chalk in the grass; directly in front of them are about 100 dust-covered fire extinguishers. The local fire chief (dressed in a suit) talks into a mic for a while, demonstrating how to use said fire extinguishers (the first try will be on a faulty one that refuses to work). The students then take turns using the extinguishers to put out one of three fires steadily roaring in a big bowl, after which point they’re re-lit by one of the off-duty security guards. The whole process is repeated about 380 times.

That’s China vs Canada for ya.

Check It Out

2008-04-17T09:12:00.005-04:00

The day after I post a blog about random, unknown fruit I get an entire box of that exact fruit. I kid you not, there are approximately 54 of these things in that box.

And the school gave me a box of strawberries to go along with them. Yay!

PS: this is my 100th blog post. I'd like to dedicate this particular post to the wonderful, kind, far too modest person who made this all happen: me. You saw that coming, didn't ya? Oh well, it's my blog and I'll do what I want.

Cheers to enough inspiration and adventure for another 100 posts!