I have tuned into the Olympics and discovered that Canada never is shown. I accepted this thinking that North America would likely show western competitors more than Asians. Then, occasionally I would see someone from team USA listed in a competition or at least, mentioned. I decided to do some internet searches and discovered that Canada is not showing very well at all. With only 4 medals, and all of them bronze, I guess that explains the lack of conversation about Canada. Diving, judo, and weightlifting are the only categories we have managed to place. Looks like we are winter athletes, so I will settle back in and cheer for Singapore who yesterday were doing well.
I must be showing my age as I watch these performances. When I tuned in yesterday I was entertained with beach volleyball. What happened to the original game of volleyball? Why some distraction that beach bums entertain themselves with on vacation? I don't for a second claim to have the stamina or skill to qualify for this sport. However, a bikini for the chicks, and a backwards baseball cap with a long flowing ponytail for the dudes, all in bare feet make me question this as an olympic sport. Their attire and attitude does not appear they take this seriously. Neither do I. When one witnesses other events that take years of training and focus to get to an olympic level I question the fact that a few people who spend their day on the beach think they are athletes. Even ping pong had some class - much like the attire of the tennis players. I thought bikinis, swim trunks, and bare feet were for water sports?
I hope Canada can surprise us all and collect at least one gold medal. I wont hold my breath.
WILD LIFE IN MY NEW RAINFOREST
VIA ONE RAINFOREST TO ANOTHER - thought these guys were more appropriate. I see their cousins every day
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
Who to Cheer for What to Watch
Our local Singapore station is carrying the Olympics. In fact, it normally begins airing around 9 am, and when I turned it on this morning at 5:15, it was showing Olympic synchronized diving. Watched a bit of that and then it reverted to table tennis. Ping pong, as I know it. I recall teaching my own children how to play ping pong, but my expertise was very short lived. They were whacking that miserable little ball beyond my poised body, causing me such angst that I never returned to the basement and tournament site again. Anyway, it was odd - I watched a match, could not figure out the scoring, and could not read the points as they were awarded, due to a very small tally box in the left corner of my screen. The two top competitors were Asian girls from Germany and Singapore. It just seemed natural to cheer for Singapore. And I did. And she won. Best of 7. I assume because the wins kept going back and forth for the first few games. Maybe would have been best of 3 if someone had that in their pocket. Not sure. In any case, my competitor won, and that made me happy. Will likely tune into more Olympics for the rest of the day. The channel I normally tune into simply because it is consistent English is carrying it.
I was happily distracted by Kolly and her mom with a Skype call. As they prepared hummus for a snack, Kolly entertained me with peek a boo and a maraca cup full of cheerios. Nice to know my granddaughter is so international and cross cultural at such an early age. From middle eastern to Mexican, she dines and entertains from an international palate.
I was happily distracted by Kolly and her mom with a Skype call. As they prepared hummus for a snack, Kolly entertained me with peek a boo and a maraca cup full of cheerios. Nice to know my granddaughter is so international and cross cultural at such an early age. From middle eastern to Mexican, she dines and entertains from an international palate.
Staying Home for a Few Days
Don't think there will be much happening here for a couple of days. I have given in and am staying home to try to get over a miserable cough and stomach issue. Every little person in the schools is coughing and hacking and it was only a matter of time before I contracted their ailments myself. Although kleenex and other brands are widely available here, even at Econsave, no one seems to use these products. If anything, they will use an old washcloth for the entire duration of the cough or cold, and occasionally swipe their face with it. Usually it is just their hand or sleeve, which is a nice way to pass on the germs. As for the stomach issue; I have to remember to not buy lunch in the villages. I know better, but running short of time, hungry, and a KFC outlet was in my path. Although KFC should have a certain worldwide standard, they fall short here. The chicken is usually undercooked, and always left out at room temperature until sold. My mistake is that I ordered the 'original', not 'spicy', so it does not move quickly. You can be sure it had been sitting since the shop opened. No one here eats 'original' except foreigners. Top all this off with constant sneezing, which even awakens me if I manage to fall asleep, and you can imagine what I vision I am these days.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Ready for The Postman
Spent a few hours with the kiddos who fine tuned their origami products to send to Canada. It was not the most productive day we have had but they needed to demonstrate their skills to me, and that they did. Each one came to me and went through the actions of manipulating the fortunetellers. Then, as they relaxed, they wanted pictures of their various poses taken.
here are a few.
here are a few.
Now I Know
I have been trying to figure out when to expect the next onslaught of baby geckos. Now I know. They take about 11 weeks before they invade me again after I have recovered from the previous invasion. I guess this breaks down as 1 week for mom and day to get acquainted, 9 weeks gestation, and then another week to find their way into my space and annoy the hell out of me until they discover there is a big world out beyond my patio doors just waiting for them to explore. I am currently in the 11th week of the cycle. I am not amused.
I braved the roadways and traipsed into downtown Kota Tinggi. I have had a nasty cough and even nastier stomach, so only foods I have been eating lately are mangos and ginger. I have consumed my entire stash of little apple sauce cartons, and have not got the energy to drive into the big city to get more. Mangos sit well, especially if they are laced with ginger. In fact, for a few days I only consumed ginger tea. Driving into the downtown area on a Saturday is usually a challenge, but with Ramadan in full swing, it is almost impossible. The gridlock begins at the entry to the main road from my own street. You sit, you wait, you snarl, you flip the bird at morons who push you past your pushing point. They will drive right into the side of your car and can get poised to overtake your lane (because they are not in any lane at all themselves) by intimidating drivers to keep moving further to the right than they should be. I kind of like that dance - I keep as far left as I can without getting into their ditch lane, but the odd idiot does not care and will scrape off the side of my car if I don't let them get ahead of me. Finally at Kipmart, I was heartily greeted by all the fruit sales gang who wanted to sell me everything they had. As usual, I went to me Chinese grocer to help me with the attack. Oh no, he is no longer there. I had to do this myself. I was not going to let them bully me into buying a bushel of mangos, so opted to choose my own produce. I even shocked them - I did buy a very large bag - 2.5 kilos. I normally buy 3 - 4 pieces at a time. After my purchase of mangos, mangosteens, and limes, I headed to the chicken man. The gang there were poised and ready, wanting to know how many boneless breasts I wanted today. Where was my son was their immediate query.
Then I tried to pick up the movie Milk. I finally gave up when all the vendors of the pirated movie sellers kept directing me to the food stalls. They of course thought I wanted to buy milk. Found something starring Eddie Murphy - Meet Dave. So now will whirl up a smoothy of mangos, mangosteens, lime juice and oat bran and settle on the sofa to watch my movie and get well.
I braved the roadways and traipsed into downtown Kota Tinggi. I have had a nasty cough and even nastier stomach, so only foods I have been eating lately are mangos and ginger. I have consumed my entire stash of little apple sauce cartons, and have not got the energy to drive into the big city to get more. Mangos sit well, especially if they are laced with ginger. In fact, for a few days I only consumed ginger tea. Driving into the downtown area on a Saturday is usually a challenge, but with Ramadan in full swing, it is almost impossible. The gridlock begins at the entry to the main road from my own street. You sit, you wait, you snarl, you flip the bird at morons who push you past your pushing point. They will drive right into the side of your car and can get poised to overtake your lane (because they are not in any lane at all themselves) by intimidating drivers to keep moving further to the right than they should be. I kind of like that dance - I keep as far left as I can without getting into their ditch lane, but the odd idiot does not care and will scrape off the side of my car if I don't let them get ahead of me. Finally at Kipmart, I was heartily greeted by all the fruit sales gang who wanted to sell me everything they had. As usual, I went to me Chinese grocer to help me with the attack. Oh no, he is no longer there. I had to do this myself. I was not going to let them bully me into buying a bushel of mangos, so opted to choose my own produce. I even shocked them - I did buy a very large bag - 2.5 kilos. I normally buy 3 - 4 pieces at a time. After my purchase of mangos, mangosteens, and limes, I headed to the chicken man. The gang there were poised and ready, wanting to know how many boneless breasts I wanted today. Where was my son was their immediate query.
Then I tried to pick up the movie Milk. I finally gave up when all the vendors of the pirated movie sellers kept directing me to the food stalls. They of course thought I wanted to buy milk. Found something starring Eddie Murphy - Meet Dave. So now will whirl up a smoothy of mangos, mangosteens, lime juice and oat bran and settle on the sofa to watch my movie and get well.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
My second Ramadan
We are well into the Ramadan season for 2012. Drivers have not improved over the year, but I really didn't expect them to do so. Nice to be home for the weekend out of their way. I had hoped to go to the Tesco mall for a reflexology with my Thai therapist but when I began that journey after my school visit I found myself embedded in a non moving clump of vehicles in 2 legitimate lanes and 4 pretending lanes. My feet would not appreciate the reflexology enough to stay in that mess.So I found a way to get out of it and do a u turn on the highway and just head home. I stopped in at my trusty 2 ringgit shop to pick up a small watering can as my neighbour blessed me with a pretty little potted daisy sort of plant. I really don't appreciate that sort of plant - it requires too much attention from me. Anyway I thought I should at least try, so a watering can for the little lovely was in order. Now, for those of you who have been reading the blog since last year, you will recall my visit to that shop in mid August when I watched some grampa put his little granddaughters into some car car thing and then plug in the coins to make it start up. And the best of all was the singing of we wish you a merry christmas. It must be a Ramadan thing, because today, outside the shop was the same little piece of machinery but today it churned out 'away in a manger. There has to be someone, somewhere having a good chortle by putting these Christmas songs on kiddy rides and then shipping them off to a muslim country during Ramadan.
Christmas songs in July could bring a smile to one's face in a Christian community, but in July, in a muslim country is brings more than a smile.
Christmas songs in July could bring a smile to one's face in a Christian community, but in July, in a muslim country is brings more than a smile.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Holy Batwars, Batman, What is Their Reality?
I worry when morons watch a movie or read a book and then cannot separate reality from fiction. This latest killing rampage proves this. Censorship has gone too far in the western world. It has gone too far because there does not seem to be any. What kind of person gets joy out of watching or reading carnage that would make your hair curl? Because the world appears to be going in the direction of voyeurism it looks like many of the people on this planet do not know what is real and what is not real. Maybe I am being kind and giving them an excuse. Maybe I am wrong and there are just many very defective people on this planet. Whatever the reason, I continue to wonder what kind of mind is attracted to the violence that box offices make a fortune on and actors become wealthy producing.
I recall the days of rushing home from school to watch Batman. We would curl up on the sofa and watch Batman and Robin speed out of the bat cave to save Gotham City from Pruneface, Catwoman, Joker, and all the other villains trying to destroy their community. It was all about good and evil, right and wrong. What the masses seem to need now is violence beyond what a human should witness because constant assault of this only numbs the senses and requires a larger dose of violent acts in order to keep one's attention and interest.
For those who have not heard about this stupidity, following is a line from a news story carrying the message.
I recall my son wearing his superman cape and costume from Halloween all year. Every day after school he and his best friend would take turns being superman. These episodes only lasted about a year, because the boys grew and could no longer fit into the costume. They still tried to wear it and managed to salvage the cape, which looked more like a bib tied to their backs. A year was probably enough to sate their imaginary roles. But this creep in Colorado must never have had his own batman costume to act out his super hero powers. Instead, I guess he felt he had to be the villain, and Joker became his moniker in that devastated movie theatre.
Has anyone pondered why these violent shooting rampages seem to be exclusive to North America? Specifically USA? I cannot plead innocent as a Canuck, we had our own massacre several years ago in an engineering class full of women in Quebec. Not to downplay that one, I still see the yanks seriously f'ed up in their interpretation of right and wrong, and normal. Maybe the fact that everyone there has the 'right to bear arms' according to the Second Amendment of the Constitution of the United States plays a big role in these problems. This right is being interpreted by people who cannot interpret a menu at Denny's. Just like many of them think a menu is what they are supposed to eat, not choose from, these creeps think that bearing arms must be interpreted to using them, in whatever fashion they see fit.
I recently was having a conversation with a colleague about movies. Turns out she has never seen Dr. Zhivago, The Sound of Music, or To Kill a Mockingbird. She, like many others her age has managed to grow up with violence as the entertainment hook in movie theatres.
As long as producers continue to hype these movie launches and citizens have the need to be at those premiers of such garbage we will continue to see carnage and acting out of fantasy that is sub human and frankly, pathetic. Maybe there should be a law that states every child in the western world will be dispatched a super hero costume to satisfy their imagination while growing up. My spider senses are catching the waves and I think I am on to something.
Yes, colleagues here made sure they were at the premier performance of The Dark Knight Rises, so that they can compare their experience with other dolts. The dark curiosity has not travelled across the globe. The theatres were nearly empty, save for the whities who occupied the seats. Says something, n'est pas?
I recall the days of rushing home from school to watch Batman. We would curl up on the sofa and watch Batman and Robin speed out of the bat cave to save Gotham City from Pruneface, Catwoman, Joker, and all the other villains trying to destroy their community. It was all about good and evil, right and wrong. What the masses seem to need now is violence beyond what a human should witness because constant assault of this only numbs the senses and requires a larger dose of violent acts in order to keep one's attention and interest.
For those who have not heard about this stupidity, following is a line from a news story carrying the message.
Holmes, a graduate student at a nearby college with a clean arrest record, entered the movie auditorium wearing a ballistics helmet, bullet-proof vest, bullet-proof leggings, gas mask and gloves. He detonated multiple smoke bombs, and then began firing at viewers in the sold-out auditorium, police said today.
(This small excerpt is enough to get the idea - I do not want to contribute more to encourage notoriety because that simply fuels the fire)
I recall my son wearing his superman cape and costume from Halloween all year. Every day after school he and his best friend would take turns being superman. These episodes only lasted about a year, because the boys grew and could no longer fit into the costume. They still tried to wear it and managed to salvage the cape, which looked more like a bib tied to their backs. A year was probably enough to sate their imaginary roles. But this creep in Colorado must never have had his own batman costume to act out his super hero powers. Instead, I guess he felt he had to be the villain, and Joker became his moniker in that devastated movie theatre.
Has anyone pondered why these violent shooting rampages seem to be exclusive to North America? Specifically USA? I cannot plead innocent as a Canuck, we had our own massacre several years ago in an engineering class full of women in Quebec. Not to downplay that one, I still see the yanks seriously f'ed up in their interpretation of right and wrong, and normal. Maybe the fact that everyone there has the 'right to bear arms' according to the Second Amendment of the Constitution of the United States plays a big role in these problems. This right is being interpreted by people who cannot interpret a menu at Denny's. Just like many of them think a menu is what they are supposed to eat, not choose from, these creeps think that bearing arms must be interpreted to using them, in whatever fashion they see fit.
I recently was having a conversation with a colleague about movies. Turns out she has never seen Dr. Zhivago, The Sound of Music, or To Kill a Mockingbird. She, like many others her age has managed to grow up with violence as the entertainment hook in movie theatres.
As long as producers continue to hype these movie launches and citizens have the need to be at those premiers of such garbage we will continue to see carnage and acting out of fantasy that is sub human and frankly, pathetic. Maybe there should be a law that states every child in the western world will be dispatched a super hero costume to satisfy their imagination while growing up. My spider senses are catching the waves and I think I am on to something.
Yes, colleagues here made sure they were at the premier performance of The Dark Knight Rises, so that they can compare their experience with other dolts. The dark curiosity has not travelled across the globe. The theatres were nearly empty, save for the whities who occupied the seats. Says something, n'est pas?
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Offer Made
Well, the sleepy little taman has been offered internet connection and phone lines. Guess the noise was worth the effort. Not sure how worthwhile, but I think it will be better than what we have now. Slow, but consistently slow rather than some connection, some times, for some time, slowly. Now I had to smile - just as I wrote that last line I was kicked off the connection three times.
We will apparently be blessed with overhead phone lines that carry the internet through those lines as well. Some time in October. I am trusting that October means 2012.
If it were not affecting me I could probably have a giggle. These clowns are willing to install as they say, cooper wires, which I think they mean copper, line poles, and of course I would imagine, surveyors in order to line up these poles properly. That should employ a dozen or so installers for a month or two. The alternative would be to send out a couple of employees to trench in the fibre optic lines to our homes and be done in an afternoon. I have seen the speed of this system in Canada. I had a new line brought to my home for fibre optic internet and it took a matter of minutes, well maybe an hour to complete the task. I am not going to tackle this issue. I am agog with anticipation of having a phone my friends can call me on, an internet connection 'on demand'. I am guessing I can have internet wirelessly in my home. I am afraid to ask. I have checked and never seem routers available for sale here, so don't want to even rock that boat right now.
We are not talking high speed. I do not profess to understand connection speeds but I did some little meter test this morning on what I currently have. At my best with the 'dongle' I can get download speed of 3 Mbps and upload of .4 Mbps. Not knowing what that means, I only know that it is a far cry from what I am familiar with back home. Home - connection is a blink of an eye. Here, with the numbers I quoted gives me time to fill the kettle, prepare some coffee in the press, open the doors on the main floor and put in a load of laundry before I am given the opportunity of opening a web page. That all can only happen if the internet actually connects. So, I am guessing that the 1 GB offered to me with this cooper line will be a shock to my computer. I just googled shaw, a provider of internet back home. Their mid-range package offers 50 Mbps download and 5 Mbps (not .5) upload, so I think I will be far behind that one with the new offer. But considering that I am no where close to that now I guess I will feel like I have joined the technical age anyway.
We will apparently be blessed with overhead phone lines that carry the internet through those lines as well. Some time in October. I am trusting that October means 2012.
If it were not affecting me I could probably have a giggle. These clowns are willing to install as they say, cooper wires, which I think they mean copper, line poles, and of course I would imagine, surveyors in order to line up these poles properly. That should employ a dozen or so installers for a month or two. The alternative would be to send out a couple of employees to trench in the fibre optic lines to our homes and be done in an afternoon. I have seen the speed of this system in Canada. I had a new line brought to my home for fibre optic internet and it took a matter of minutes, well maybe an hour to complete the task. I am not going to tackle this issue. I am agog with anticipation of having a phone my friends can call me on, an internet connection 'on demand'. I am guessing I can have internet wirelessly in my home. I am afraid to ask. I have checked and never seem routers available for sale here, so don't want to even rock that boat right now.
We are not talking high speed. I do not profess to understand connection speeds but I did some little meter test this morning on what I currently have. At my best with the 'dongle' I can get download speed of 3 Mbps and upload of .4 Mbps. Not knowing what that means, I only know that it is a far cry from what I am familiar with back home. Home - connection is a blink of an eye. Here, with the numbers I quoted gives me time to fill the kettle, prepare some coffee in the press, open the doors on the main floor and put in a load of laundry before I am given the opportunity of opening a web page. That all can only happen if the internet actually connects. So, I am guessing that the 1 GB offered to me with this cooper line will be a shock to my computer. I just googled shaw, a provider of internet back home. Their mid-range package offers 50 Mbps download and 5 Mbps (not .5) upload, so I think I will be far behind that one with the new offer. But considering that I am no where close to that now I guess I will feel like I have joined the technical age anyway.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Tuesday Tidbit
I came across a webcam for the links to Singapore. These live shots show what the causeway looks like this morning. There are two access bridges to Singapore. I know I have taken both, I think the second link is reserved for transport trucks and drivers with passengers. The crossing is insane from about 4:30 am onward. Residents of Malaysia work in Singapore so the bridge is alive with commuters on a daily basis. Sure glad I don't do this. The roadways here are enough for me to deal with.
Both views are from JB to Singapore. The congestion is only one way and then of course from 4 pm onward it reverses. The view of these crossings reverses in congestion on Friday evening and Sunday evening when the Singaporeans go to JB and go home again after unloading their cash in Malaysian shops.
Both views are from JB to Singapore. The congestion is only one way and then of course from 4 pm onward it reverses. The view of these crossings reverses in congestion on Friday evening and Sunday evening when the Singaporeans go to JB and go home again after unloading their cash in Malaysian shops.
there are clearly no gaps in either picture
I Drew a Line
I guess everyone draws a line in the sand eventually. I drew mine two days ago. As the neighbours came clamouring to my home asking me to continue the quest for phone lines I made sure they understood my posture at this time concerning this issue. I have turned over every stone to get the phone/Internet cables here and have a bevy of residents hiding behind my skirt as I do this. But after a million different excuses, as many different answers simply to appease me, that have no truth in their words, I give up.
The neighbours continue to ask, what now? I have told them constantly they need to contact their elected government representative. Do they do this? No. I tell them to follow this with the letter I wrote for them to be published in the newspaper. Do they do this? No. I have made it very clear to them I am no longer calling the elected official. I have no clout there. I do not have a vote. They do. I will not have the letter published in the newspaper. It just gives the readers to once again say ' those white people think they can have everything the had back home - over here'. Believe me when I say I have nothing close to what I had back home, but I accept most of it with grace. It is time for the group here to stand up and take action for themselves. They sit back and say ' we tried before, we cannot get it'. I guess they never will, and neither will I with that attitude.
I must remember who I am and where I am. I am here teaching a Western methodology of learning along with English language. I need to remember that all that I do here also has a cultural sensitivity issue. I need to keep that in mind while I interact with the locals. I know now that I will never be a true local in that sense. I will not ever adopt the group mentality that makes that collective culture unique. I am western, living in an eastern culture. As long as I think I can convince these people to adopt my way of thinking, even though they are professionals, I am trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. Their thinking filters into every aspect of their lives. An example of this is driving here. I was warned when I first arrived that in any road collision with a scooter, the driver of a car is always at fault. You need to understand that scooters follow no road rules, they drive like little bees swarming a hive, but the hive is your car. They come from all sides, cut you off, bash into your side view mirrors because they are too close; yet if they collide with you it is your fault. End of story. I have a neighbour, who had just such a collision with a scooter last week. She had damage to her vehicle, driver door needs repair in order to open it. Side view mirror ripped off. She stopped to be sure the scooter driver was not injured. He appeared OK, with perhaps minor injury. He begged - no police report. Why? He has no license to drive. She agreed. Why? She was driving a car, and if it did get reported, she would be at fault anyway. He drove into her - running a red light. But when it comes down to the final decision, she is driving a car, she is at fault. Would anyone in North America accept these rules? No, of course not, but here the collective culture just accepts and licks their wounds and keeps on ticking.
No, I am not dealing with scooters when I try to get Internet in my home. But I am dealing with the same mentality and for that reason I say enough. I tried. I can look back at all I have done knowing that there is nothing further I can do. I cannot make someone else do something they don't want to do. I can only give my list of needs and rights, and let the other side decide if that works for them. The hardest part of any such relationship is knowing when to throw in the towel. I am not throwing in the towel, I am doing that which I have a history of difficulty with, I am letting it go. I have done my part. And now it is their turn to see what they can do for themselves. Wish us all a bit of luck.
The neighbours continue to ask, what now? I have told them constantly they need to contact their elected government representative. Do they do this? No. I tell them to follow this with the letter I wrote for them to be published in the newspaper. Do they do this? No. I have made it very clear to them I am no longer calling the elected official. I have no clout there. I do not have a vote. They do. I will not have the letter published in the newspaper. It just gives the readers to once again say ' those white people think they can have everything the had back home - over here'. Believe me when I say I have nothing close to what I had back home, but I accept most of it with grace. It is time for the group here to stand up and take action for themselves. They sit back and say ' we tried before, we cannot get it'. I guess they never will, and neither will I with that attitude.
I must remember who I am and where I am. I am here teaching a Western methodology of learning along with English language. I need to remember that all that I do here also has a cultural sensitivity issue. I need to keep that in mind while I interact with the locals. I know now that I will never be a true local in that sense. I will not ever adopt the group mentality that makes that collective culture unique. I am western, living in an eastern culture. As long as I think I can convince these people to adopt my way of thinking, even though they are professionals, I am trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. Their thinking filters into every aspect of their lives. An example of this is driving here. I was warned when I first arrived that in any road collision with a scooter, the driver of a car is always at fault. You need to understand that scooters follow no road rules, they drive like little bees swarming a hive, but the hive is your car. They come from all sides, cut you off, bash into your side view mirrors because they are too close; yet if they collide with you it is your fault. End of story. I have a neighbour, who had just such a collision with a scooter last week. She had damage to her vehicle, driver door needs repair in order to open it. Side view mirror ripped off. She stopped to be sure the scooter driver was not injured. He appeared OK, with perhaps minor injury. He begged - no police report. Why? He has no license to drive. She agreed. Why? She was driving a car, and if it did get reported, she would be at fault anyway. He drove into her - running a red light. But when it comes down to the final decision, she is driving a car, she is at fault. Would anyone in North America accept these rules? No, of course not, but here the collective culture just accepts and licks their wounds and keeps on ticking.
No, I am not dealing with scooters when I try to get Internet in my home. But I am dealing with the same mentality and for that reason I say enough. I tried. I can look back at all I have done knowing that there is nothing further I can do. I cannot make someone else do something they don't want to do. I can only give my list of needs and rights, and let the other side decide if that works for them. The hardest part of any such relationship is knowing when to throw in the towel. I am not throwing in the towel, I am doing that which I have a history of difficulty with, I am letting it go. I have done my part. And now it is their turn to see what they can do for themselves. Wish us all a bit of luck.
Thank You, Please and Greek Martoonis
For those who have spent any time in S E Asia, they will know this phrase. Thank you, please is what you will hear from people in Thailand and Bali on a regular basis. They always want to please and use manners far more than Westerners could ever imagine. Even those with very limited English will say this to you if you buy something from them or do anything they feel the need to thank you. I was not disappointed on Saturday when I went for my 2 hour massage in JB. The therapist needed to ask me to turn over. I knew it was time, there is a pattern, but before I could begin the journey from my front to my back, she tried to say something in English that did not quite work, so I just did on cue what I knew she wanted. Relieved, she sighed and whispered her 'thank you please Fras (the best she can say my name). Another amusing response I discovered on my Bali vacation was when I greeted the concierge in the morning as I went for breakfast. I would nod with a smile and say 'good morning' and his reply every time was 'I am fine'. I still like the 'thank you please' the best.
On the same day as the massage I stopped in at Tesco. There before my wondering eyes did appear a bottle of Absolut vodka on special. I can't really say that vodka is something I would head for back home. But one cannot be choosey in the land of 'none'. One never buys the hootch we are familiar with over here. It is taxed to the hilt so if we buy anything, we buy local stuff. It is an excellent way of never becoming a dependant on liquor. The stuff is like Russian roulette. You never know if you will become blind, seriously ill, or even dead. White Lightning is safer to drink than this stuff I think. Anything I buy gives me a serious headache - instantly. But a good friend put me onto a remedy. She got me one of those Brita water filters and a filter. I have set up my own distillery in the kitchen and pour the stuff through the filter a couple of times and then decant it back into the bottle. It kinda works. However, on this day I thought I deserved a treat, so I parted with my ringgits and bought the pricy (even after the discount) Absolut treat and headed home. Tonight I felt I would like to be sophisticated and opted for a martini. No vermouth did not stop me. A short swatty glass with the cool liquid (refrigerated) and voila - a martini. Hmm, no olives. But wait, there are some kalamatas in a jar left over from a Greek salad I made a few weeks ago. So a twist of the top and a spoon to dip a few out and I have invented a new cocktail - A Greek Martooni. And it was fine.
On the same day as the massage I stopped in at Tesco. There before my wondering eyes did appear a bottle of Absolut vodka on special. I can't really say that vodka is something I would head for back home. But one cannot be choosey in the land of 'none'. One never buys the hootch we are familiar with over here. It is taxed to the hilt so if we buy anything, we buy local stuff. It is an excellent way of never becoming a dependant on liquor. The stuff is like Russian roulette. You never know if you will become blind, seriously ill, or even dead. White Lightning is safer to drink than this stuff I think. Anything I buy gives me a serious headache - instantly. But a good friend put me onto a remedy. She got me one of those Brita water filters and a filter. I have set up my own distillery in the kitchen and pour the stuff through the filter a couple of times and then decant it back into the bottle. It kinda works. However, on this day I thought I deserved a treat, so I parted with my ringgits and bought the pricy (even after the discount) Absolut treat and headed home. Tonight I felt I would like to be sophisticated and opted for a martini. No vermouth did not stop me. A short swatty glass with the cool liquid (refrigerated) and voila - a martini. Hmm, no olives. But wait, there are some kalamatas in a jar left over from a Greek salad I made a few weeks ago. So a twist of the top and a spoon to dip a few out and I have invented a new cocktail - A Greek Martooni. And it was fine.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
First Mentoring Day of Ramadan
As I recall from last year, the energy level is low, the attendance is poor, and the attention span short. For the next month I am going to have to be creative in how I do my job. I was in the extremely rural schools last year during Ramadan, so maybe things will be different here. Maybe not.
What is working for me this year is there are a Chinese and Tamil school each in my cluster, so they will not be affected, and some of my public schools have Indian and Chinese teachers. They should be 'as usual' which means I can work 'as usual' with them. I have to hide my water bottle - not nice to take a swig in front of those who are fasting. The best part of the month is I will not be constantly asked 'have you taken your breakfast?' I will not have to beg off of going to the canteen to face what they serve there - always saying I am not hungry. I have already put together the professional development session I have today. I have not been able to convince them that writing a good lesson plan means that their work is actually much easier to perform, these lesson plans can be filed to be used again and again, and anyone can take over a lesson if they themselves are absent on the day it was planned for delivery. In all the mentees I visit there are only two who actually develop a proper lesson plan. Those two are exactly what I expect to see - some written log of what they will teach that day, how they will teach it, what resources they will need, what expectations and outcomes will be anticipated, and how to manipulate it for those who are low level, and those who are high achievers. One of those star mentees has left for a maternity leave. My goal is to have a good majority of the others achieve this level of skill during the next month, by watching me model a lesson, they as students learning it, and then after the lesson completion, they write the lesson plan as it unfolded before they eyes. I have even developed a template that they only need to fill in the slots of the various components of the lesson plan. I have already tried this on them in the past, and each lesson plan template gets lost, forgotten, and ignored. It is my hope that I will have their complete attention during the next month and actually have an outcome produced that demonstrates they have learned how to use one and realize how it actually is easier than what they have been doing thus far.
What is working for me this year is there are a Chinese and Tamil school each in my cluster, so they will not be affected, and some of my public schools have Indian and Chinese teachers. They should be 'as usual' which means I can work 'as usual' with them. I have to hide my water bottle - not nice to take a swig in front of those who are fasting. The best part of the month is I will not be constantly asked 'have you taken your breakfast?' I will not have to beg off of going to the canteen to face what they serve there - always saying I am not hungry. I have already put together the professional development session I have today. I have not been able to convince them that writing a good lesson plan means that their work is actually much easier to perform, these lesson plans can be filed to be used again and again, and anyone can take over a lesson if they themselves are absent on the day it was planned for delivery. In all the mentees I visit there are only two who actually develop a proper lesson plan. Those two are exactly what I expect to see - some written log of what they will teach that day, how they will teach it, what resources they will need, what expectations and outcomes will be anticipated, and how to manipulate it for those who are low level, and those who are high achievers. One of those star mentees has left for a maternity leave. My goal is to have a good majority of the others achieve this level of skill during the next month, by watching me model a lesson, they as students learning it, and then after the lesson completion, they write the lesson plan as it unfolded before they eyes. I have even developed a template that they only need to fill in the slots of the various components of the lesson plan. I have already tried this on them in the past, and each lesson plan template gets lost, forgotten, and ignored. It is my hope that I will have their complete attention during the next month and actually have an outcome produced that demonstrates they have learned how to use one and realize how it actually is easier than what they have been doing thus far.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Zambonis in Malaysia?
Clearly I had nothing else to ponder when I spied this marvel in the Tesco shop a few weeks ago. Browsing through my phone images I have captured and needed to delete, I found the Zamboni look alike and thought it deserved a place here.
A Zamboni is a machine that every Canadian knows and understands. It comes out onto the rink during breaks between hockey periods to resurface the ice - spreading water across the rink while brushing the surface to give the players a fresh gleaming patch of ice to slide across to score their goals. Mockery of cheering for the Zamboni man is a common place event at a hockey game.
I am not a veteran hockey fan but as a Canuck, I have the built in spidey sense of the sounds of Canada - Zambonis. Shopping in the Tesco produce area I heard the groaning noise of something familiar. Looking behind me I saw the Zamboni. What the heck? It took me by surprise, so camera was in my pocket. Once he did his lap past the roots, twigs and vines that had offended the floor in that space, I was ready to capture his image for you to see. Moving swiftly and deftly between the aisle, he cleansed the floor, giving it a marvellous sheen. What would have produced a pail and bucket back home I witnessed a greater technological advancement applied to a spill here. No one cheered. No one even acknowledged his presence. Wonders never cease.
A Zamboni is a machine that every Canadian knows and understands. It comes out onto the rink during breaks between hockey periods to resurface the ice - spreading water across the rink while brushing the surface to give the players a fresh gleaming patch of ice to slide across to score their goals. Mockery of cheering for the Zamboni man is a common place event at a hockey game.
 |
| What I know |
I am not a veteran hockey fan but as a Canuck, I have the built in spidey sense of the sounds of Canada - Zambonis. Shopping in the Tesco produce area I heard the groaning noise of something familiar. Looking behind me I saw the Zamboni. What the heck? It took me by surprise, so camera was in my pocket. Once he did his lap past the roots, twigs and vines that had offended the floor in that space, I was ready to capture his image for you to see. Moving swiftly and deftly between the aisle, he cleansed the floor, giving it a marvellous sheen. What would have produced a pail and bucket back home I witnessed a greater technological advancement applied to a spill here. No one cheered. No one even acknowledged his presence. Wonders never cease.
 |
| What I now know |
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Deciduous Trees Here?
Why don’t all trees lose their leaves?
It really depends on the climate in which the trees are living. In areas like tropical rainforests – which are warm and moist – there is moisture available all year round. This moisture allows trees to keep their leaves year round.
When I read this I still made me wonder - how can a leaf remain a leaf after years of being a leaf? I witness this across the road from my home. On the highways to and from work I see nothing but palm plantations, but here at home I have my own personal jungle across the street. One never sees dead leaves below the trees, so don't you find it amazing that a little leaf can continue to be just that for years? I do.
You can find all sorts of information online regarding conifers and deciduous trees, but nothing much about tropical trees. Of course palm trees fit the general information online. Because palms have long thin leaves, they apparently do not shed. But I am talking about a forest of what we would deem to be a deciduous forest across the street from my home and it has never changed since I moved in here a year and a half ago. I guess it is a good thing if you are the gardener. No raking to do. But still makes me curious.
The picture of a tree (above) is a rose apple tree. My neighbour has it in front of his home and shares all the little delights that grow a couple of times a year. I still don't understand the cycles here, the tree itself never looks any different than this except for the abundant fruit that grows a few times a year. All the leaves are still intact always. Maybe I will tie a string around a leaf and watch to see how long it stays there. Behind the rose apple is the jungle across the street which is green always as well. Weird huh?
Now for my warped sense of humour. The schools often paint murals or English phrases on the walls. I found this tidbit which I had to quickly photograph in hopes of not drawing attention to myself. Maybe what you see here is why we have a job as a mentor?
like a graffiti artist, I quickly pencilled in the correct verb
TFIG OMG and other drivel
Today is not really TGIF. Not in my mind. I have to travel to Batty Pahat for a state meeting. I really detest these meetings. You drive for a few hours on the road that make you crazy, all to be able to meet with colleagues that whine about having to work, then drive home again after that. Nothing productive, nothing useful. Plus, I lose a day of real work which I actually enjoy. On the flip side, the lazy a** mentors love it - means they don't have to work, can get into their cars and go to a big city, in the event they live in the 'sticks', and then party all night at that meeting place. I go home.To top it off, deadbeats call me - me, the one who HATES DRIVING, and ask me for lift. They expect me to go out of my way to pick them up sort of enroute, and then await as they have a few drinks or stuff their faces before getting back in the car and chauffeured home again. Not bloody likely! I have told them just that.
Tomorrow is the first day of Ramadan. This makes the trip even nastier than usual. Every Malay in this country is going to be on the roads dashing to their home villages to do whatever one does on the first day of Ramadan - which is supposed to be fasting. Liken the family gathering to Christmas Eve. You know what the highways are like just before Christmas? However, banquets are being prepared all day for the setting of the sun and putting on the feedbag for a month, not just one day. Then look out for Hari Raya - a solid week of eating with no boundaries after that month of fasting.
We have had torrential rains this past week - most out of character because we are not in monsoon season. The forecast for Johor state is the same for today. I am counting on being in the part of Johor that misses this event. Our state is huge, so a general forecast cannot really apply. I just want clear vision to and from the meeting, and then who cares if we get hit with 'sky juice' once I am locked in my property.
Yesterday I was summonsed to evaluate preschool teachers in a micro teaching setting. That event just confirmed to me that Lesson Plan training is still high on the list of 'what to teach these guys' in professional development. They always plead 'no time' to write a lesson plan, but you can imagine what kind of mishmash occurs when one is not written. That was what I had to adjudicate yesterday - all the while being sensitive and gentle in my comments.
Saturday should be a fine day. I intend to turn on the stereo, blast the neighbourhood with my tunes and just relax. That will be my defence to the constant din of firecrackers (not fireworks) every bloody night, which for some reason the Malays set off in the evening. Feels like you are in a war zone every night. You can be sure that the medical clinics will have a number of casualties during that week. I witnessed a lot of them last year when I attended one. Some dufus about 18 or so ( I judge this by his accomplices) was being guided into the clinic bandaged across his face, over his left ear (if it was still there), and his entire left arm and (perhaps) his left hand dressed with enough gauze to cover an Egyptian mummy. Guess he didn't count too well once he lit the explosives.
I have also made a decision regarding my invitation to the TAO temple in Singapore. I took in the Johor temple a few months ago, and now the Singaporeans want to meet the white lady too. I was gonna do it, but it is becoming such an event I have decided to beg off. I really have to keep reminding myself I have boundaries and only I can honour them. I will have to tell my neighbours that I will not be going. That should be worth some coaxing and pleading. But I am firm on my decision. What I do for my weekends and travel time are my decision - not some obligation to others. And so it is. A minimum of 400SD (translates into RM980), a weekend without my own recuperation of the week, and obligatory making nice is not what I define as a weekend get away. Plus, two more pages of my passport will be filled for this excursion.
Now time to hang the laundry before I hit the happy trails to Batty Pahat.
Friday funnies: licence plates here are part of the vehicle. the plate goes with the car. Everyone knows me as a foreigner, not only because of my colour but also my licence number. Johor plates all begin with J. There are three letters and then 4 numbers. There are no letter not used - as in North America. We, in North America do not use certain letters because they can be confused with other letters. Example - no Q or D - confused with O, and some others I can't recall right now. Anyway, W is my first letter - and it signifies I am from K L. So, my licence number gives me away right away. The other day I saw a series of letters and knew right away they were from K L. But what caused a giggle was the series of letters - WTF
Tomorrow is the first day of Ramadan. This makes the trip even nastier than usual. Every Malay in this country is going to be on the roads dashing to their home villages to do whatever one does on the first day of Ramadan - which is supposed to be fasting. Liken the family gathering to Christmas Eve. You know what the highways are like just before Christmas? However, banquets are being prepared all day for the setting of the sun and putting on the feedbag for a month, not just one day. Then look out for Hari Raya - a solid week of eating with no boundaries after that month of fasting.
We have had torrential rains this past week - most out of character because we are not in monsoon season. The forecast for Johor state is the same for today. I am counting on being in the part of Johor that misses this event. Our state is huge, so a general forecast cannot really apply. I just want clear vision to and from the meeting, and then who cares if we get hit with 'sky juice' once I am locked in my property.
Yesterday I was summonsed to evaluate preschool teachers in a micro teaching setting. That event just confirmed to me that Lesson Plan training is still high on the list of 'what to teach these guys' in professional development. They always plead 'no time' to write a lesson plan, but you can imagine what kind of mishmash occurs when one is not written. That was what I had to adjudicate yesterday - all the while being sensitive and gentle in my comments.
Saturday should be a fine day. I intend to turn on the stereo, blast the neighbourhood with my tunes and just relax. That will be my defence to the constant din of firecrackers (not fireworks) every bloody night, which for some reason the Malays set off in the evening. Feels like you are in a war zone every night. You can be sure that the medical clinics will have a number of casualties during that week. I witnessed a lot of them last year when I attended one. Some dufus about 18 or so ( I judge this by his accomplices) was being guided into the clinic bandaged across his face, over his left ear (if it was still there), and his entire left arm and (perhaps) his left hand dressed with enough gauze to cover an Egyptian mummy. Guess he didn't count too well once he lit the explosives.
I have also made a decision regarding my invitation to the TAO temple in Singapore. I took in the Johor temple a few months ago, and now the Singaporeans want to meet the white lady too. I was gonna do it, but it is becoming such an event I have decided to beg off. I really have to keep reminding myself I have boundaries and only I can honour them. I will have to tell my neighbours that I will not be going. That should be worth some coaxing and pleading. But I am firm on my decision. What I do for my weekends and travel time are my decision - not some obligation to others. And so it is. A minimum of 400SD (translates into RM980), a weekend without my own recuperation of the week, and obligatory making nice is not what I define as a weekend get away. Plus, two more pages of my passport will be filled for this excursion.
Now time to hang the laundry before I hit the happy trails to Batty Pahat.
Friday funnies: licence plates here are part of the vehicle. the plate goes with the car. Everyone knows me as a foreigner, not only because of my colour but also my licence number. Johor plates all begin with J. There are three letters and then 4 numbers. There are no letter not used - as in North America. We, in North America do not use certain letters because they can be confused with other letters. Example - no Q or D - confused with O, and some others I can't recall right now. Anyway, W is my first letter - and it signifies I am from K L. So, my licence number gives me away right away. The other day I saw a series of letters and knew right away they were from K L. But what caused a giggle was the series of letters - WTF
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
How to Write My Name
Some of the students cannot connect the dots to why we have letters and how we will use them. Some even cannot comprehend that these letters actually signify their name when put together in a particular sequence.
Armed with boxes of play dough I took myself to a class and demonstrated with my own little box and we wrote a series of letters together with strings of rolled and manipulated play dough to form the word STOP. Everyone understood what they had done and could even sound out the word when finished. Happy smiling faces with this accomplishment moved us to spelling their own names. I had initially had them write their names on the boxes so I had something to follow. The names here are not familiar to me, so I would have no idea how to spell them if the child told me verbally. Their teach assisted with that operation.
Now with the boxes in front of them, and not knowing what those letters were, the children began play dough writing their names on their desks. You can only imagine how pleased they all were when they realized they had written their names and they looked just like the ones on their own little play dough boxes before them. Now they also realized they had a gift from me - a box of play dough to take home!
Armed with boxes of play dough I took myself to a class and demonstrated with my own little box and we wrote a series of letters together with strings of rolled and manipulated play dough to form the word STOP. Everyone understood what they had done and could even sound out the word when finished. Happy smiling faces with this accomplishment moved us to spelling their own names. I had initially had them write their names on the boxes so I had something to follow. The names here are not familiar to me, so I would have no idea how to spell them if the child told me verbally. Their teach assisted with that operation.
Now with the boxes in front of them, and not knowing what those letters were, the children began play dough writing their names on their desks. You can only imagine how pleased they all were when they realized they had written their names and they looked just like the ones on their own little play dough boxes before them. Now they also realized they had a gift from me - a box of play dough to take home!
Last one was lucky - 3 letter name! All were delighted - and some tried to peel the name off the desk to take home to show their parents.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Bird's Eye View of Ramadan Here
Ramadan has not begun, but you would not know that when driving on the highways. People thinking that they must drive in the middle of the painted line that marks the two lanes has begun in earnest. That is only the beginning. It gets worse.
I was in downtown K T today and saw all the marquees being erected everywhere in anticipation of the month of fasting. Of course it is important to raise a marquee in every spare square centimetre around here because under each roof is as many food stalls one can pack into the covered area. After all, Ramadan is signified by fasting.
Sorry, the logic in this whole exercise completely escapes me. It has been noted that the time of year that people put on the most weight is during Ramadan. Hmm. Fasting and gaining weight?
You will see every parking lot filled with the white marquees, and every area that would have been used to approach a restaurant on foot is filled with newly ordered tables and chairs all ready for hungry diners during the next month. All along the highway individuals erect food stalls, cooking meat, rice, fried bananas and whatever else they can put together in a makeshift shack. Kind of like a drive through McD. So, on top of dodging people who are straddling two lanes on the highway, one has to avoid collisions with those who just stop their vehicle - sort of pulled off the main road to buy their 'fasting food'.
It should again be interesting to get any work done. Lucky for me, I have a Tamil and a Chinese school in my mixture so should be able to remain productive there. For the others, they begin to fade by 10 am at the start of Ramadan and then good luck for anything productive for the last couple of weeks at any time. Then, after all this 'fasting' they take a week off and eat even more!
I have done juice fasts, cleansing fasts and various other fasts that at different times of my life I felt were good for me. My understanding of a fast was to consume no solid foods. And consume no solid foods is exactly what I did. Once again, I guess culture changes the rules of certain words. Fasting here is not stopping the consumption of solid or liquid foods at all. They apparently do not consume through the day, but look out at the end of the day. When I asked someone why they cannot be productive in the early afternoon during Ramadan I was told that I should think like they were preparing a Christmas dinner - every day for a month. Their whole focus every day of fasting is making a banquet they can eat after sundown each day. So all they really do is turn their days around and eat all night and then get a bit of shut eye and wander around the next day in a haze again preparing the banquet for the evening. I still don't get it. How is that fasting?
I was in downtown K T today and saw all the marquees being erected everywhere in anticipation of the month of fasting. Of course it is important to raise a marquee in every spare square centimetre around here because under each roof is as many food stalls one can pack into the covered area. After all, Ramadan is signified by fasting.
Sorry, the logic in this whole exercise completely escapes me. It has been noted that the time of year that people put on the most weight is during Ramadan. Hmm. Fasting and gaining weight?
You will see every parking lot filled with the white marquees, and every area that would have been used to approach a restaurant on foot is filled with newly ordered tables and chairs all ready for hungry diners during the next month. All along the highway individuals erect food stalls, cooking meat, rice, fried bananas and whatever else they can put together in a makeshift shack. Kind of like a drive through McD. So, on top of dodging people who are straddling two lanes on the highway, one has to avoid collisions with those who just stop their vehicle - sort of pulled off the main road to buy their 'fasting food'.
These two photos are just a view of only one corner!
I have done juice fasts, cleansing fasts and various other fasts that at different times of my life I felt were good for me. My understanding of a fast was to consume no solid foods. And consume no solid foods is exactly what I did. Once again, I guess culture changes the rules of certain words. Fasting here is not stopping the consumption of solid or liquid foods at all. They apparently do not consume through the day, but look out at the end of the day. When I asked someone why they cannot be productive in the early afternoon during Ramadan I was told that I should think like they were preparing a Christmas dinner - every day for a month. Their whole focus every day of fasting is making a banquet they can eat after sundown each day. So all they really do is turn their days around and eat all night and then get a bit of shut eye and wander around the next day in a haze again preparing the banquet for the evening. I still don't get it. How is that fasting?
More Resignations
I know I am stubborn. But at what cost? More colleagues resign and I stay. I am not sure if I am missing some point, and completely missing the boat, or they are not really resigning but being asked to leave. I will likely not really know the answer to this ever. But still I ponder. There are a couple of factors that I do know that may influence these happenings. One; these people never assimilate into the communities where they reside. Always foreigners looking in but not fitting in. Two; many of them never really do their job. Thinking that a work week can be whatever they make it - Tuesday to Thursday, or whatever days and hours of those days that works for them at that moment. Having spent the majority of my career as a private contractor, I do not understand that sort of work ethic. If I am working, I am being paid. If I am not working I am not being paid. But this lot knows that if they are not work, they are still being paid. Sadly, because it is difficult to replace us - not because many of them are valuable assets, but simply the cost, time, and recruiting process for a partial contract where we are now at make it difficult to find someone willing to take the trip here to finish something coming to a close. The deadbeats know this and do you-know-what to the dog while smirking over the latest way to not work and get paid. When I moan about this to other colleagues and they flip me off with instances of their own no shows at work I am shocked. Are they all part of that Y generation?
I grew up as a baby boomer, my children grew up as x generation. Boomers had many privileges growing up, but we still had a strong work ethic and lived our lives by that philosophy. The 'X' gens also accepted this way of life and managed to be so technically adept they made our heads spin, leaving us wondering how the heck they could be such computer and technology gurus. Those X generations have built careers that my own generation had never heard of. They also are intelligent and brave enough to know how to change careers and become experts in a new field and work hard there too. But this latest group only defined as y generation I think lives by defining themselves taking the 'y' as the word 'why' why should I work, why should I bother. For some reason they think the world owes them something. The majority of them here are an odd bunch. They are incapable of stringing a coherent sentence together in communication. In fact, there is little communication among them. They all plug into their iPods, watch a movie on their computer, and yet have the need to all occupy the same room doing individual things. I have gone to dinner with some of them and each takes their laptop out and disappears into their own world while slurping soup, gnawing on food and generally ignoring the rest of the people at the table. I think they honestly believe they are valuable assists to society, but I cannot see their contribution. Watching their movies online keeps them up til 3 or 4 am, so they never leave for work until 10 or later, or not at all. Their excuse? I don't like getting up early. Then why the heck did they take a day job? Their social and academic skills are more suited to being a bar maid or bar tender. The hours would work for them as well.
I think what annoys me the most about this whole scene is that I see it blatantly acted out with no consequences. I am not going to tattle. It would fall on deaf ears, and I would just have to pick up the slack if I did. The 'y' group would not know how or ever think they should have to. Rant over.
I grew up as a baby boomer, my children grew up as x generation. Boomers had many privileges growing up, but we still had a strong work ethic and lived our lives by that philosophy. The 'X' gens also accepted this way of life and managed to be so technically adept they made our heads spin, leaving us wondering how the heck they could be such computer and technology gurus. Those X generations have built careers that my own generation had never heard of. They also are intelligent and brave enough to know how to change careers and become experts in a new field and work hard there too. But this latest group only defined as y generation I think lives by defining themselves taking the 'y' as the word 'why' why should I work, why should I bother. For some reason they think the world owes them something. The majority of them here are an odd bunch. They are incapable of stringing a coherent sentence together in communication. In fact, there is little communication among them. They all plug into their iPods, watch a movie on their computer, and yet have the need to all occupy the same room doing individual things. I have gone to dinner with some of them and each takes their laptop out and disappears into their own world while slurping soup, gnawing on food and generally ignoring the rest of the people at the table. I think they honestly believe they are valuable assists to society, but I cannot see their contribution. Watching their movies online keeps them up til 3 or 4 am, so they never leave for work until 10 or later, or not at all. Their excuse? I don't like getting up early. Then why the heck did they take a day job? Their social and academic skills are more suited to being a bar maid or bar tender. The hours would work for them as well.
I think what annoys me the most about this whole scene is that I see it blatantly acted out with no consequences. I am not going to tattle. It would fall on deaf ears, and I would just have to pick up the slack if I did. The 'y' group would not know how or ever think they should have to. Rant over.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
T M Has Brought Out the Worst In ME
I have still been fighting an uphill battle with the internet providers here. They have no conscience or honour when they talk with me. I have had confirmation, but only by word, from the freaks at the office here in Kota Tinggi, that we will have our phone lines installed in August. Once the phone lines are in place, the internet just runs through those lines. No one will put it on paper. Now I know why. The deadbeats that I have been corresponding with via e-mail just confirmed to me that they have no intention of providing these lines. The freaks said they did a survey and only 4 residents want the service so they will not provide it to any due to low demand. I canvassed the neighbourhood and no one has been asked if they want the service.
How the heck do these people sleep at night when they know they have lied through their teeth, cheated people and refuse to give an essential service to the citizens of their own country. Shame on them.
They have not heard the last from Frannie. Oh no. Not at all. I have prepared a petition and my neighbour will take it around the Taman while I am at work, and gather signatures. This will be in the newspapers and worse if they do not respond with honour this time around. The sleeping dragon has awakened, and God help those in her path.
I finally have on paper the deceit I wanted to be able to print. Some dufus was stupid enough to write the lie and sign on behalf of the company. Plus they made the mistake of telling other Taman residents that we will be having our internet delivered in August as well.
How the heck do these people sleep at night when they know they have lied through their teeth, cheated people and refuse to give an essential service to the citizens of their own country. Shame on them.
They have not heard the last from Frannie. Oh no. Not at all. I have prepared a petition and my neighbour will take it around the Taman while I am at work, and gather signatures. This will be in the newspapers and worse if they do not respond with honour this time around. The sleeping dragon has awakened, and God help those in her path.
I finally have on paper the deceit I wanted to be able to print. Some dufus was stupid enough to write the lie and sign on behalf of the company. Plus they made the mistake of telling other Taman residents that we will be having our internet delivered in August as well.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
New Pictures for Alphabet
You new parents will be able to connect with your babies as they learn the alphabet according to your lifestyles
Here is something you can paste on your fridge for early practice
Here is something you can paste on your fridge for early practice
Blackberry Failing?
No, I don't want to hear that. The world is making a big mistake, I think. I recall many years ago when I had my first blackberry in my sweaty fists, I balked and resisted the little back marvel, but quickly became very adept at using its incredible features. My daughter got her first blackberry after me. Wow, that is something in this world of technology and which generation dictates the popularity of new toys. After several pokes at me calling it a crackberry, she soon joined my sorority and was tapping out bbms to me in no time at all though her company berry. Not to be left behind, her husband joined the ranks, feigning broken or unsuitable flip phones. Everyone in her circle of friends had crackberries and the bbms were flying through the airwaves at incredible speed. We could stay in touch even though I was living on the island and she on the mainland, all with a quick note sent through this sorority of users. No longer is this quick messaging available when we need it the most. Somehow, someone, has been able to disable this easy little feature that would mean the most to both of us now that I am across the globe and so very far away. All for the sake of the almighty buck!
The greed of corporate business appears to be the demise of blackberry as it seems to be falling into the abyss of redundancy. This seems to be the demise of all that begins big and falls away without fanfare. I liken this to the cell phone service providers in Canada. I do not think there is a country in the world that yanks money from its customers quite like they do in Canada. I have never seen the cost of long distance charged to customers elsewhere like it is charged in Canada. A cell phone does not work like a landline where long distance charges can be applied. But yay Canada, they have found a way to charge you a fee for a call from one area to another as close by as 20 km. You can make a call considered a local call from the east coast of USA to the west coast of USA, but in Canada you cannot make a local call from Calgary to Banff - a matter of 30 minutes driving time. Shame on you greedy bastards. Even here in Malaysia, where technology is lagging behind the world in every way, I can call all parts of the country, including the island area of Malaysia next to Brunei, as a local call. Something the RIM company has forgotten is who they are marketing to. I am an oldie, who will stay there indefinitely. But there are many younger people who love bling. Their insatiable need to have everything bling in their lives dictates that something blingy has to be offered. A touch screen face was added to crackberry - they listened. I was able to keep the wonderful querty keyboard, but the touchscreen face that made the user feel in the loop kept buyers coming back. But they seemed to stop there. Was it because they had the corporate world already? Big mistake. Many of those bling addicts were entering the corporate world and they demanded this toys to fit their needs. Just like politicians who lose touch with their voters, realtors who do not pay attention to location, location, location, RIM lost touch with their buyers because they had such a long time in the marketplace as the one and only and most successful business communication system in the world.
To focus back on the blackberry saga, I think, because it too is a Canadian company, they have taken the same stance as the marvellous Canadian cell phone providers and want to suck every cent they can out of the customer and forget that they are only in business because there are customers. To bad. They had a product that lead the industry. They had/have a product that I love to use. They had/have a product that led the others in security and product performance. What happened? I think they found themselves on a pedestal, and forgot that they need to work in order to stay there. I will not join the android copycats - they tend to be just that. Copcats. And poor ones at that. But my resistance to iPhone may not be forever. I will continue with crackberry, simply because I tend to keep a phone for so many years it could be deemed an antique or something named in my will. But I also admit that when that time comes that the little gem quits, I too will go to the iPhone, if they are still in business. My forecast is that by the time I need a new device, someone will have invented a way to implant some chip into my skull, leaving me with no need to find my phone when it rings. Simply recharge my skull in a charging dock beside my bed when I turn off the lights. In fact, maybe, like the clapper of years ago, I can clap my hands three times, click my heels twice and fall asleep while my phone charges in my dreams.
The greed of corporate business appears to be the demise of blackberry as it seems to be falling into the abyss of redundancy. This seems to be the demise of all that begins big and falls away without fanfare. I liken this to the cell phone service providers in Canada. I do not think there is a country in the world that yanks money from its customers quite like they do in Canada. I have never seen the cost of long distance charged to customers elsewhere like it is charged in Canada. A cell phone does not work like a landline where long distance charges can be applied. But yay Canada, they have found a way to charge you a fee for a call from one area to another as close by as 20 km. You can make a call considered a local call from the east coast of USA to the west coast of USA, but in Canada you cannot make a local call from Calgary to Banff - a matter of 30 minutes driving time. Shame on you greedy bastards. Even here in Malaysia, where technology is lagging behind the world in every way, I can call all parts of the country, including the island area of Malaysia next to Brunei, as a local call. Something the RIM company has forgotten is who they are marketing to. I am an oldie, who will stay there indefinitely. But there are many younger people who love bling. Their insatiable need to have everything bling in their lives dictates that something blingy has to be offered. A touch screen face was added to crackberry - they listened. I was able to keep the wonderful querty keyboard, but the touchscreen face that made the user feel in the loop kept buyers coming back. But they seemed to stop there. Was it because they had the corporate world already? Big mistake. Many of those bling addicts were entering the corporate world and they demanded this toys to fit their needs. Just like politicians who lose touch with their voters, realtors who do not pay attention to location, location, location, RIM lost touch with their buyers because they had such a long time in the marketplace as the one and only and most successful business communication system in the world.
To focus back on the blackberry saga, I think, because it too is a Canadian company, they have taken the same stance as the marvellous Canadian cell phone providers and want to suck every cent they can out of the customer and forget that they are only in business because there are customers. To bad. They had a product that lead the industry. They had/have a product that I love to use. They had/have a product that led the others in security and product performance. What happened? I think they found themselves on a pedestal, and forgot that they need to work in order to stay there. I will not join the android copycats - they tend to be just that. Copcats. And poor ones at that. But my resistance to iPhone may not be forever. I will continue with crackberry, simply because I tend to keep a phone for so many years it could be deemed an antique or something named in my will. But I also admit that when that time comes that the little gem quits, I too will go to the iPhone, if they are still in business. My forecast is that by the time I need a new device, someone will have invented a way to implant some chip into my skull, leaving me with no need to find my phone when it rings. Simply recharge my skull in a charging dock beside my bed when I turn off the lights. In fact, maybe, like the clapper of years ago, I can clap my hands three times, click my heels twice and fall asleep while my phone charges in my dreams.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
I Should Not Admit It, But...
I mentioned that I picked up the book everyone seems to be talking about in North America. 50 Shades of Grey. I will not bother to tell you what the sentence in the book describes as the 50 shades.
Don't buy it. I have never read a more pathetic bunch of trash in my life. But read on, I do. Why? I crave reading, and there was nothing else available. Think of a Harlequin romance novel, with the trash that I think one would find in a column in 'trash' magazines and this is the book. Beyond that, it is written by some Brit who sets the story in Washington state but does not change the language or demeanour of the people speaking from her own British style to North American style. Very odd indeed. I find her constant and his breath hitches, and he stills' so completely ridiculous, yet I keep reading. If I read one more sentence that says he cocks his head to the side while he hitches I will explode! I have read far enough into the book that now even her breath hitches. I think I am hoping that there is a real plot in this environmental destruction of trees bound into a book.
I should have known what I was getting myself into when I noted that there were no recommendations from respected sources. In fact, there were no recommendations at all. Tells me something huh?
Save your money and if you need to buy a book, buy a Dr Seuss book and send it to my library. That will have value.
Friday's rant complete. Over and out.
Don't buy it. I have never read a more pathetic bunch of trash in my life. But read on, I do. Why? I crave reading, and there was nothing else available. Think of a Harlequin romance novel, with the trash that I think one would find in a column in 'trash' magazines and this is the book. Beyond that, it is written by some Brit who sets the story in Washington state but does not change the language or demeanour of the people speaking from her own British style to North American style. Very odd indeed. I find her constant and his breath hitches, and he stills' so completely ridiculous, yet I keep reading. If I read one more sentence that says he cocks his head to the side while he hitches I will explode! I have read far enough into the book that now even her breath hitches. I think I am hoping that there is a real plot in this environmental destruction of trees bound into a book.
I should have known what I was getting myself into when I noted that there were no recommendations from respected sources. In fact, there were no recommendations at all. Tells me something huh?
Save your money and if you need to buy a book, buy a Dr Seuss book and send it to my library. That will have value.
Friday's rant complete. Over and out.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
What's a Stubble Jumper?
I have again had a number of people ask me what's a stubble jumper.
I looked online to find a definition, and I think this one fits best.
Stubble Jumper , stubble jumper meaning , definition of stubble jumper , what is stubble jumper - 1. Someone from a prairie province or state.2. A farmer.3. A red neck or hickStubble is the end of a wheat or hay plant after it has been havested. It is usually about 6-12 inches long, sticks vertically out of the ground and is very stiff.
Some examples : The Saskatchewan Ruffryders are just a bunch of stubble jumpers.
personally - I am from Saskatchewan, not a farm, but a city. Maybe flatlander is more suitable to describe my roots.
So, when you think of a person who's roots are in the prairies of Canada, think of them jumping through the stubble that is left at the end of the harvest season there. No, most of us don't actually do that, but there is always some term of endearment to define each of the various regions of Canada. Another term of endearment for my roots is flatlander. I don't think any explanation is required for that one. Albertans (my second home province) are defined as rednecks. (not a flattering term) My final stop over before heading to SE Asia was B C. I have not found a term to describe that lot, but what comes to mind is hippy, and bud. If you said you were from the land of hippies and weed, everyone would know you are from BC.
What I did find on the web for a description of BC residents feels closest to the truth: The coolest people you will ever meet are from B.C. Laid back-fun-don't take life too seriously-know how to have a good time.
Because I began in Saskatchewan, moved to Alberta, and then on to BC, I guess I am a stubble jumper redneck hippy. And I am proud to be all that, except for the redneck part - which I never was anyway.
HTH
I looked online to find a definition, and I think this one fits best.
Stubble Jumper , stubble jumper meaning , definition of stubble jumper , what is stubble jumper - 1. Someone from a prairie province or state.2. A farmer.3. A red neck or hickStubble is the end of a wheat or hay plant after it has been havested. It is usually about 6-12 inches long, sticks vertically out of the ground and is very stiff.
Some examples : The Saskatchewan Ruffryders are just a bunch of stubble jumpers.
personally - I am from Saskatchewan, not a farm, but a city. Maybe flatlander is more suitable to describe my roots.
So, when you think of a person who's roots are in the prairies of Canada, think of them jumping through the stubble that is left at the end of the harvest season there. No, most of us don't actually do that, but there is always some term of endearment to define each of the various regions of Canada. Another term of endearment for my roots is flatlander. I don't think any explanation is required for that one. Albertans (my second home province) are defined as rednecks. (not a flattering term) My final stop over before heading to SE Asia was B C. I have not found a term to describe that lot, but what comes to mind is hippy, and bud. If you said you were from the land of hippies and weed, everyone would know you are from BC.
What I did find on the web for a description of BC residents feels closest to the truth: The coolest people you will ever meet are from B.C. Laid back-fun-don't take life too seriously-know how to have a good time.
Because I began in Saskatchewan, moved to Alberta, and then on to BC, I guess I am a stubble jumper redneck hippy. And I am proud to be all that, except for the redneck part - which I never was anyway.
HTH
Wizards, Sorcerers and Fortunetellers
An encounter at a school found me among a gathering of sorcerers and soothsayers all wanting to read my fortune through their new medium they created in the classroom. With new skills learned in moving their thumbs and index fingers in unison, these little magicians with focused concentration advised me of the future through their newly acquired talents.
 |
| quiet please, I must concentrate |
 |
| Pick a colour |
 |
| Pick a number |
 |
| pick me |
 |
| or me |
 |
| or me |
 |
| Finally! a group of girls. The boys outnumber the girls in all the schools here. |
Gluttony Reigns in the Neighbourhood
I speak unkindly of others who belly up to the food troughs and here I am posting my dinner feast today. But at least my gastronomic delights are prepared with love in a family kitchen, not from a paper bag filled with cardboard buckets. My talented neighbour who wanted so badly to meet Ry sent all my favourite foods tonight. Curried veggies topped with crisp curry leaves, steamed baby xiao bai chai, and a mountain of cool refreshing watermelon. Should be enough to sustain me for a few days. I had to disappoint them and let them know that Ry will not be coming back this weekend after all. Honestly, they make you feel like royalty. And I hope Ryan realizes that he is even higher up on that admiration than myself. He is the real foreigner, while I have just become a local now.
So here is the feast he could have dined on. Guess he will have to find another reason to take a trip this way and try again.
So here is the feast he could have dined on. Guess he will have to find another reason to take a trip this way and try again.
Yes, I did work today. Also have several pictures of talented children discovering that they can become fortune tellers. Much like the first group I taught this skill, they were completely in awe with the ability to manipulate little pieces of paper with only two fingers and two thumbs. So much so that they would not release them for fear of getting it wrong for the fitting of fingers again. My phone is blinking at me, so no power to upload tonight. Look again tomorrow for the soothsayers of Malaysia.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
defensive driving - Wednesday Rant
Once these hair brain colleagues figure out that one must drive defensively we might have a set of mentors that actually go to work on a regular basis. Many of these western people grab the car that we get dispatched and burn up the highways and byways exploring the country. Many have apparently never had a car before - they think these plastic-mobiles are grand! Lots of kms get registered on the odometer from weekend getaways and late night tours. I guess that is why they have such a difficult time getting up for work. One even told me she needs to go to work late because she is not accustomed to getting up early. How the heck did she get the job in the first place? How the heck does she keep the job? No thought of other drivers on the roads and always 'knowing their own rights'. There are few rights here, and even fewer if you come from the west. What a bunch of ka ka !
Living here you have to drive for everyone else on the road. Life is cheap. There are millions of people vying for their place on the roads, and none consider keeping a distance between each other or respecting a stop sign or red light. If you come here and drive as they do, you will suffer the consequences. My neighbour did just that yesterday and then expected an entourage (she called everyone in her address book to rescue her) to come and bail her out. The biggest annoyance was there was no need for any of us to be there. No injuries, but good at feigning them until I advised I had been an expert witness in court for insurance fraud (in the past) for just that thing. Still managed to get a 2 day leave from work - trauma reason. Good grief!
I realize it is a challenge to avoid collisions here, but when you know the situation, you make sure you drive your car with the mindset that you are also driving everyone else's car and anticipating their careless ways that can affect you. I am very short on patience for people who do not do their work. I have no sympathy for those that cause their own problems. I have no tolerance for people who fake ill health. I guess this post is my current rant, especially when they cause others to not be able to do their own job.
Living here you have to drive for everyone else on the road. Life is cheap. There are millions of people vying for their place on the roads, and none consider keeping a distance between each other or respecting a stop sign or red light. If you come here and drive as they do, you will suffer the consequences. My neighbour did just that yesterday and then expected an entourage (she called everyone in her address book to rescue her) to come and bail her out. The biggest annoyance was there was no need for any of us to be there. No injuries, but good at feigning them until I advised I had been an expert witness in court for insurance fraud (in the past) for just that thing. Still managed to get a 2 day leave from work - trauma reason. Good grief!
I realize it is a challenge to avoid collisions here, but when you know the situation, you make sure you drive your car with the mindset that you are also driving everyone else's car and anticipating their careless ways that can affect you. I am very short on patience for people who do not do their work. I have no sympathy for those that cause their own problems. I have no tolerance for people who fake ill health. I guess this post is my current rant, especially when they cause others to not be able to do their own job.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Kolly size Baju Karung
I had a little dress made for Kolly when she was born. It was fabric from the school where I was working at the time. Her portrait as a baby sits on a shelf there even now. The youngest to wear the school colours so far.
Now that she is manoeuvring herself on her own steam, she wears the dress again - with even more style. Much prettier than her Nana in her own version.
Now that she is manoeuvring herself on her own steam, she wears the dress again - with even more style. Much prettier than her Nana in her own version.
Baju karung is the Malay Batik dresses they were here.
Lunch and Adieu after a too short Weekend
Not sure if we were grinning because we were so happy to be together, or anticipating the real meat western style restaurant where we were.
I think he was thinking about the food he was about to receive. real beef!
(He's very good looking isn't he? Apparently he looks very much like his mother)
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Some Humour I Received
I had a wonderful weekend with Ryan. We talked for hours, we spent every minute we could together, we Skyped with Sumi, we Skyped with Jenn, Levi, and Kolly, and then suddenly, Sunday arrived, and the visit is over. I sent him off with my friend Karen who also left this weekend. Nice for both of them to cross the border and get into Singapore with company. We all gorged ourselves on steaks at TGIFriday before they left, and then two other colleagues and myself got back into our WUT-mobiles and travelled home to prepare for another week of work. I now await Ry's call to make sure his old ma got home safely. There is no greater gift that having a child who is now an adult and actually wants to come to visit you. I am a lucky lady.
I found this e-mails in my inbox, and because it made me chuckle, thought you could enjoy it too.
So what did Ry and I do? We went to my schools so he could see where I work, we went to the big mall so he could see that I can find 'real' food here, and we dined at home on foods that he remembered from home. It was eerie as we sat on the patio last night waiting for the chicken breasts to finish barbecuing; both feeling like we were back at Katepwa. The quiet, the heat, and the aroma of the herbs searing on the chicken were as if we had taken a quantum leap backwards many years. We talked about swimming lessons where he froze his skinny butt early in the morning at the lake. We talked about Jennifer and him doing the same thing on his last journey back to Canada, and we talked about everything else we had time to fill that small space of time we knew we had this weekend.
He brought me the most exquisite shawl from India. A huge cashmere wrap that will guarantee no cold days in BC this winter. And I think he thinks it is time for me to be open to having a boyfriend. I also received a decadent set of ivory silk sheets. I can hardly wait to go to bed tonight - alone. I have shovelled far too much food into my face today and all weekend. I think a cup of tea and maybe one of the cookies Jenn sent will be dinner. I was afraid to open the cookies - they will be a soggy mess in no time at all. Be we figured out a way I could open the package and not have to consume the entire thing at once. Glad bags that she sent me will be put to use, and the treasures stored in the lizard fridge for treat time.
I agree, I think God did a great job when he invented the stapler. Too bad they did not get the blueprint for these technical masterpieces in Malaysia.
I found this e-mails in my inbox, and because it made me chuckle, thought you could enjoy it too.
So what did Ry and I do? We went to my schools so he could see where I work, we went to the big mall so he could see that I can find 'real' food here, and we dined at home on foods that he remembered from home. It was eerie as we sat on the patio last night waiting for the chicken breasts to finish barbecuing; both feeling like we were back at Katepwa. The quiet, the heat, and the aroma of the herbs searing on the chicken were as if we had taken a quantum leap backwards many years. We talked about swimming lessons where he froze his skinny butt early in the morning at the lake. We talked about Jennifer and him doing the same thing on his last journey back to Canada, and we talked about everything else we had time to fill that small space of time we knew we had this weekend.
He brought me the most exquisite shawl from India. A huge cashmere wrap that will guarantee no cold days in BC this winter. And I think he thinks it is time for me to be open to having a boyfriend. I also received a decadent set of ivory silk sheets. I can hardly wait to go to bed tonight - alone. I have shovelled far too much food into my face today and all weekend. I think a cup of tea and maybe one of the cookies Jenn sent will be dinner. I was afraid to open the cookies - they will be a soggy mess in no time at all. Be we figured out a way I could open the package and not have to consume the entire thing at once. Glad bags that she sent me will be put to use, and the treasures stored in the lizard fridge for treat time.
I agree, I think God did a great job when he invented the stapler. Too bad they did not get the blueprint for these technical masterpieces in Malaysia.
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