Some teaching days are rough. Many of my students have tough lives and are turning into tough kids as a result. Which makes me sad.
And then there are days like today. When one of my students, who I've never actually heard speak of her own accord, came up to me at the end of class and said "Teacher I love you!"
Obviously this made me happy because it seems she likes me. Let's not lie. But, seriously, I felt equally happy that she took it upon herself to express this sweet thought on her own and in English!!
Makes it all worthwhile.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Do you know the Bao-zi man?
The Bao-zi man is a man who sells Bao-zi on Cijin Island, on Cijin Road, next to Cijin Elementary School. Which, if you remember, is where I teach.
Bao-zi is pronounced kind of like “bow-zuh” except with tones. Bao-zi are steamed buns (think chewy bread rolls) and normally have ground pork and non-spicy spices inside. Or nondescript, mostly cabbage-y vegetables. Or other things that are also delicious but less common.
In the lower left-hand corner of this picture, you can observe a Bao-zi in all its glory. There is a red dot on top to indicate that it has meat inside instead of cabbage-y vegetables.
I like Bao-zi. I like Bao-zi because they are yummy. I also like Bao-zi because although I am basically illiterate when it comes to Chinese, I can recognize the Chinese characters for Bao-zi because the first character looks kind of like an “e” if you squint and the second character looks like a “3” with a line through the bottom. When I walk to Cijin on Tuesday and Thursday morning I feel hungry. When I couldn’t speak Chinese at all, I learned how to say Bao-zi. And then I recognized the character at this little, green stand on the side of the road near my school. And then I met Bao-zi man. I also like Bao-zi because they introduced me to the Bao-zi man.
Bao-zi man is elderly and wears a striped polo shirt. It emerged the other day when Bao-zi man was not standing in his stand that he is shorter than I previously thought he was. Bao-zi man has a wife who makes the food.
I normally can’t understand Bao-zi man and he normally can’t understand me. This is because he speaks fast and slurred Chinese and I speak quietly and poorly toned Chinese all on a busy, noisy road. It took us a few weeks to figure out what I really wanted when I added milk tea to my order. And a couple more weeks before we clarified that I wanted the milk tea to be hot. But it’s ok. We are chums. Once my order was established, he remembered it. Which I appreciate. And when I come to his Bao-zi stand he starts to prepare me my Bao-zi and hot milk tea. Awesome.
No offense Bao-zi man, but I got a little tired of Bao-zi EVERY Tuesday and Thursday morning and now only go to him once a week. Bao-zi man did not take offense. We still wave at each other friendly-like even when I don’t make a purchase. Also, out of respect, I carry my alternate breakfast decision in an inconspicuous fashion so as not to flaunt the fact that he has competition. The other day, I decided to change it up with Bao-zi mand and I ordered “dan-ping” which is egg and green onion and a tortilla like something all rolled up together and cut into bite sized pieces. I think I might make a permanent switch to this order. But he will always be the Bao-zi man.
Bao-zi is pronounced kind of like “bow-zuh” except with tones. Bao-zi are steamed buns (think chewy bread rolls) and normally have ground pork and non-spicy spices inside. Or nondescript, mostly cabbage-y vegetables. Or other things that are also delicious but less common.
In the lower left-hand corner of this picture, you can observe a Bao-zi in all its glory. There is a red dot on top to indicate that it has meat inside instead of cabbage-y vegetables.
I like Bao-zi. I like Bao-zi because they are yummy. I also like Bao-zi because although I am basically illiterate when it comes to Chinese, I can recognize the Chinese characters for Bao-zi because the first character looks kind of like an “e” if you squint and the second character looks like a “3” with a line through the bottom. When I walk to Cijin on Tuesday and Thursday morning I feel hungry. When I couldn’t speak Chinese at all, I learned how to say Bao-zi. And then I recognized the character at this little, green stand on the side of the road near my school. And then I met Bao-zi man. I also like Bao-zi because they introduced me to the Bao-zi man.
Bao-zi man is elderly and wears a striped polo shirt. It emerged the other day when Bao-zi man was not standing in his stand that he is shorter than I previously thought he was. Bao-zi man has a wife who makes the food.
I normally can’t understand Bao-zi man and he normally can’t understand me. This is because he speaks fast and slurred Chinese and I speak quietly and poorly toned Chinese all on a busy, noisy road. It took us a few weeks to figure out what I really wanted when I added milk tea to my order. And a couple more weeks before we clarified that I wanted the milk tea to be hot. But it’s ok. We are chums. Once my order was established, he remembered it. Which I appreciate. And when I come to his Bao-zi stand he starts to prepare me my Bao-zi and hot milk tea. Awesome.
No offense Bao-zi man, but I got a little tired of Bao-zi EVERY Tuesday and Thursday morning and now only go to him once a week. Bao-zi man did not take offense. We still wave at each other friendly-like even when I don’t make a purchase. Also, out of respect, I carry my alternate breakfast decision in an inconspicuous fashion so as not to flaunt the fact that he has competition. The other day, I decided to change it up with Bao-zi mand and I ordered “dan-ping” which is egg and green onion and a tortilla like something all rolled up together and cut into bite sized pieces. I think I might make a permanent switch to this order. But he will always be the Bao-zi man.
Friday, March 13, 2009
(Not) really cute
Since I haven't updated in a month, I thought I'd update twice today.
The following is another example of the truly stellar quality of the English textbook I get to teach from at one of my schools. I am pretty sure it is made by an American publishing company- I've looked it up online. Recently, I have also developed some theories on the religious leanings of its writers.
In every chapter there is a small story geared towards helping the students learn the words. At the end of each story there is a "funny" or "interesting" thing that happens. Something designed to really engage those innocent little 5th graders with such innocent, undeveloped senses of humor... (you guessed it, they don't find them interesting at all)
Currently we are teaching the students different animal names. Here's the "story" I'm expected to read to them to practice recognizing the words:
Look familiar?
Better build a boat... or maybe even an ARK... fast "Old Man."
..."There went in two and two unto Noah into the ark"...
Pretty bad, right? Bible story time in a public school makes me feel a little funny. But. It gets BETTER. Because kids, there's a part of the story which is not so commonly known. Although, it's a really logical step to take if you stop to think about for even a few minutes.
And THAT small, heathen, non-English speaking children, is why dinosaurs no longer walk the earth. And for the teacher who just might not get the point, there are helpful teacher's notes at the top of the page. You might not be able to clearly read it from the picture. The notes say "Why does the old man want two dinosaurs? (Because he wants dinosaur babies)" and "If there's only one dinosaur, what will happen? (No more dinosaurs)."
Sheesh. This is, I would argue, even more absurd than the chapter about professions where the woman only got to be a "housewife." I am not reading this story to my students. But, I must admit, that although I took offense, I also laughed with incredulity. So, at least the writer's "kicker" ending achieved it's objective of entertaining. If not for the reasons intended.
The following is another example of the truly stellar quality of the English textbook I get to teach from at one of my schools. I am pretty sure it is made by an American publishing company- I've looked it up online. Recently, I have also developed some theories on the religious leanings of its writers.
In every chapter there is a small story geared towards helping the students learn the words. At the end of each story there is a "funny" or "interesting" thing that happens. Something designed to really engage those innocent little 5th graders with such innocent, undeveloped senses of humor... (you guessed it, they don't find them interesting at all)
Currently we are teaching the students different animal names. Here's the "story" I'm expected to read to them to practice recognizing the words:
Look familiar?
Better build a boat... or maybe even an ARK... fast "Old Man."
..."There went in two and two unto Noah into the ark"...
Pretty bad, right? Bible story time in a public school makes me feel a little funny. But. It gets BETTER. Because kids, there's a part of the story which is not so commonly known. Although, it's a really logical step to take if you stop to think about for even a few minutes.
And THAT small, heathen, non-English speaking children, is why dinosaurs no longer walk the earth. And for the teacher who just might not get the point, there are helpful teacher's notes at the top of the page. You might not be able to clearly read it from the picture. The notes say "Why does the old man want two dinosaurs? (Because he wants dinosaur babies)" and "If there's only one dinosaur, what will happen? (No more dinosaurs)."
Sheesh. This is, I would argue, even more absurd than the chapter about professions where the woman only got to be a "housewife." I am not reading this story to my students. But, I must admit, that although I took offense, I also laughed with incredulity. So, at least the writer's "kicker" ending achieved it's objective of entertaining. If not for the reasons intended.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Lovely Things
There are many lovely things in Taiwan that are not lovely in America. They remind me daily that I am far away from home. Here are two prominent examples:
7-11.
In America, 7-11s are really sketchy. They are the places you go when you’re underage and want to buy cheap substances that you are too young to purchase legally. Counters at American 7-11s are monitored by about three video cameras because people like to rob them. And slurpees. Ew. American 7-11s are not pleasant places.
In Taiwan, 7-11s still have Slurpees. Still Ew. In Taiwan, 7-11s are everywhere. Essentially 7-11s are to Taiwan what Starbucks’ are to America. They are clean. Really clean. You can do a great number of convenient and useful things there. Like pay your bills. And buy concert tickets. There is a 7-11 right next to our apartment building. Very convenient.
The subway.
In America, subways are dirty. And there's often the need to closely monitor the whereabouts of your belongings.
In Taiwan you call the subway the MRT. And the MRT is not sketchy. In Kaohsiung the MRT is brand, spankin’ new. Although way more expensive than the 12 NT$ bus ride, MRT rides are still very cheap: approximately 25 NT$ a ride (a little less than 1 US dollar). The thought of being robbed on the MRT is a little laughable. As far as cleanliness goes, I normally opt to use the toilets in the metro stations before using public toilets in other places like restaurants. That’s how clean they are. Hard to believe, but true. Here’s a picture if you require further proof (I took this picture at the "terminal station" which is why there are no people). Look at those shining floors!
Also, in Taiwan MRT employees are friendly. There are yellow vested men that stand on the platform and enthusiastically watch out for travelers, wayward tourists and would-be miscreants. Aside from the fact that these yellow-vested men sometimes mistake me for a wayward tourist, which I find alternately sweet and irritating (I’m thinking maybe it’s the hair… just a guess), these employees are very comforting.
7-11.
In America, 7-11s are really sketchy. They are the places you go when you’re underage and want to buy cheap substances that you are too young to purchase legally. Counters at American 7-11s are monitored by about three video cameras because people like to rob them. And slurpees. Ew. American 7-11s are not pleasant places.
In Taiwan, 7-11s still have Slurpees. Still Ew. In Taiwan, 7-11s are everywhere. Essentially 7-11s are to Taiwan what Starbucks’ are to America. They are clean. Really clean. You can do a great number of convenient and useful things there. Like pay your bills. And buy concert tickets. There is a 7-11 right next to our apartment building. Very convenient.
The subway.
In America, subways are dirty. And there's often the need to closely monitor the whereabouts of your belongings.
In Taiwan you call the subway the MRT. And the MRT is not sketchy. In Kaohsiung the MRT is brand, spankin’ new. Although way more expensive than the 12 NT$ bus ride, MRT rides are still very cheap: approximately 25 NT$ a ride (a little less than 1 US dollar). The thought of being robbed on the MRT is a little laughable. As far as cleanliness goes, I normally opt to use the toilets in the metro stations before using public toilets in other places like restaurants. That’s how clean they are. Hard to believe, but true. Here’s a picture if you require further proof (I took this picture at the "terminal station" which is why there are no people). Look at those shining floors!
Also, in Taiwan MRT employees are friendly. There are yellow vested men that stand on the platform and enthusiastically watch out for travelers, wayward tourists and would-be miscreants. Aside from the fact that these yellow-vested men sometimes mistake me for a wayward tourist, which I find alternately sweet and irritating (I’m thinking maybe it’s the hair… just a guess), these employees are very comforting.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Dear mosquitoes, go away. Love, Kate
One thing that I don't like about Taiwan is: bugs. Another is: thousand year eggs. More about that another time.
Those of you who are faithful blog followers will know that I have had several harrowing experiences with bugs to date. Such as the time a cockroach FLEW on my pillow. yeah. And the other time when I bought a magical tennis racket of doom that had powers to kill mosquitoes. If you're not a faithful follower of my blog, well, you know, whatever.
Anyway, the problem with the tennis racket of doom is that it is retaliatory, not preventative, in nature. The way you are alerted to a mosquitoes' presence is when it bites you. That's when you know it's time to kill it. But it doesn't change the fact that your leg now itches. And that there are probably mosquito friends lurking somewhere in the shadows, waiting.
This morning, at 3am, I received alerts that there was a mosquito I needed to kill. Twice. Once on the eyebrow and once on the lip.
Have you ever heard the story of the rookie soldier and the war veteran? And the rookie soldier is complaining about how he broke his fingernail. And then the war veteran is like "you wuss" and he breaks the rookie soldier's pinkie finger. And the rookie soldier says, "owwwww, why?" And the war veteran says, "well now your fingernail doesn't hurt, right?" Let's just say the mosquito bite on the lip FAR overshadows the mosquito bite on the eyebrow. I've forgotten I even have a mosquito bite on my eyebrow.
As I was saying, I woke up at 3 in the morning thinking "owwww, why?" and then looked in the mirror. And realized. There was a mosquito that definitely needed to be killed. Because not only do mosquito bites on the lip feel more painful than itchy, they also make you look pretty darn foolish:
That mosquito is dead now. Thanks, tennis racket of doom.
Side note: when I was getting ready to come to Taiwan, the Americans told me I should get vaccinated for Japanese Encephalitis, this unpleasant brain swelling virus carried by mosquitoes. And I was like "ok, if you say so" and started the three shot procedure. I needed to finish the last of the three shots when I went to Germany. So I went to this German doctor who told me "you silly American that's totally unnecessary and dumb." So I said "ok, if you say so." I think of that doctor sometimes. Particularly when I get mosquito bites. On my LIP (and eyebrow). Kind of close to my, as yet, unswollen brain.
Those of you who are faithful blog followers will know that I have had several harrowing experiences with bugs to date. Such as the time a cockroach FLEW on my pillow. yeah. And the other time when I bought a magical tennis racket of doom that had powers to kill mosquitoes. If you're not a faithful follower of my blog, well, you know, whatever.
Anyway, the problem with the tennis racket of doom is that it is retaliatory, not preventative, in nature. The way you are alerted to a mosquitoes' presence is when it bites you. That's when you know it's time to kill it. But it doesn't change the fact that your leg now itches. And that there are probably mosquito friends lurking somewhere in the shadows, waiting.
This morning, at 3am, I received alerts that there was a mosquito I needed to kill. Twice. Once on the eyebrow and once on the lip.
Have you ever heard the story of the rookie soldier and the war veteran? And the rookie soldier is complaining about how he broke his fingernail. And then the war veteran is like "you wuss" and he breaks the rookie soldier's pinkie finger. And the rookie soldier says, "owwwww, why?" And the war veteran says, "well now your fingernail doesn't hurt, right?" Let's just say the mosquito bite on the lip FAR overshadows the mosquito bite on the eyebrow. I've forgotten I even have a mosquito bite on my eyebrow.
As I was saying, I woke up at 3 in the morning thinking "owwww, why?" and then looked in the mirror. And realized. There was a mosquito that definitely needed to be killed. Because not only do mosquito bites on the lip feel more painful than itchy, they also make you look pretty darn foolish:
That mosquito is dead now. Thanks, tennis racket of doom.
Side note: when I was getting ready to come to Taiwan, the Americans told me I should get vaccinated for Japanese Encephalitis, this unpleasant brain swelling virus carried by mosquitoes. And I was like "ok, if you say so" and started the three shot procedure. I needed to finish the last of the three shots when I went to Germany. So I went to this German doctor who told me "you silly American that's totally unnecessary and dumb." So I said "ok, if you say so." I think of that doctor sometimes. Particularly when I get mosquito bites. On my LIP (and eyebrow). Kind of close to my, as yet, unswollen brain.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
It's all in the timing
This morning I stood outside of my English classroom waiting for class to begin and sipping my morning milk tea. My classroom overlooks the school track. I watched as a little boy, probably in 2nd or 3rd grade, walked across the grassy area in the middle of the track. The sprinklers were on. He was very carefully avoiding the water and somberly enjoying his obstacle course. He would wait till the sprinkler spun the other way to proceed. He held up his sweatpants so that the cuffs would not get wet. It was sweet. I felt myself hoping he would succeed in the challenge he had created for himself. And then, the minute he reached the other side of the grass, perfectly dry, the sprinklers turned off.
I laughed out loud. Lucky little guy... two minutes later and your walk would have been totally boring.
I laughed out loud. Lucky little guy... two minutes later and your walk would have been totally boring.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Ode to my Breakfast
Good morning America. Meet my breakfast. It consists of three types of fruits: a guava, a green-egg-New-Year's-fruit, and a thing that looks like a small orange and you eat the peel not the inside (sounds like a bad idea, but isn't).
I did not know two of these fruits existed until I came to Taiwan. This is why I give lengthy descriptions instead of names: I don't actually know their names. Although my suspicion is that the orange one is a kumquat- a mythical fruit I had heard of but never seen in America. I think the green fruit looks like an egg. And someone told me you eat them during Chinese New Year. So that's the origin of my highly imaginative name. I have absolutely no idea what it is called in English. My guava is sprinkled with this sugary-not-sugar substance which I learned how to say in Chinese but not English. I believe it is dried, pulverized plum sugar. It's good. That's for sure. It is kind of tart and puckery and is really good with guava.
My breakfast also included homemade starfruit juice that my host family made. Starfruit juice is not photogenic. But it is good to drink.
My point, essentially, is that Taiwan is full of delicious fruits that, unfortunately for your tastebuds, you have never tasted before. There are fruit stands everywhere, where you can buy a huge variety of yummy fruit for very small amounts of money. Every few months a new fruit comes into season and you enjoy it while you can until the next delicious mystery fruit ripens. The argument that everything delicious is bad for you does not hold on this island.
I did not know two of these fruits existed until I came to Taiwan. This is why I give lengthy descriptions instead of names: I don't actually know their names. Although my suspicion is that the orange one is a kumquat- a mythical fruit I had heard of but never seen in America. I think the green fruit looks like an egg. And someone told me you eat them during Chinese New Year. So that's the origin of my highly imaginative name. I have absolutely no idea what it is called in English. My guava is sprinkled with this sugary-not-sugar substance which I learned how to say in Chinese but not English. I believe it is dried, pulverized plum sugar. It's good. That's for sure. It is kind of tart and puckery and is really good with guava.
My breakfast also included homemade starfruit juice that my host family made. Starfruit juice is not photogenic. But it is good to drink.
My point, essentially, is that Taiwan is full of delicious fruits that, unfortunately for your tastebuds, you have never tasted before. There are fruit stands everywhere, where you can buy a huge variety of yummy fruit for very small amounts of money. Every few months a new fruit comes into season and you enjoy it while you can until the next delicious mystery fruit ripens. The argument that everything delicious is bad for you does not hold on this island.
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