The next time you look at someone who does not match your own culture or background keep this short video in mind. It shows us how we look at others and make assumptions that do not match reality. Click on the link below and open the video to full screen so you can see the minimal text.
wrong assumptions
WILD LIFE IN MY NEW RAINFOREST
VIA ONE RAINFOREST TO ANOTHER - thought these guys were more appropriate. I see their cousins every day
Friday, September 26, 2014
Monday, September 22, 2014
nothing really new here
Now having been home for many months, I have discovered that moving back is a tad similar to moving to. Just like being a foreigner in a new country, we return to find out that we have to make adjustments to what we thought was known. The one thing I craved was to be alone. Living in a country about the size of the island where I now call home but with a greater population than my whole country made me want solitude and quiet. Landing in one of our country's largest cities and staying there for months did not address that need. But eventually I got here and spent an incredible summer trying to figure out how to be a gardener. If there are marks given for gardening I scored -F. But it was fun, it was exercise, and it entertained me for quite some time. The end result is several beds of dirt, picked clean by the bunnies and deer. They are not all that bright either. If they had any amount of patience they could have scored some mighty fine veggies instead of small 2 leaf plants that they constantly raided when the farmer went to bed.
No one understood that I did not want to drive a car. No one here knew what kind of driving I had been doing for three years in an insane country as far as driving goes. I certainly did not want to drive a car with my precious grandchildren in it. Never sure which way to look for traffic, never sure which side of the road I was supposed to be on; especially after making a turn; was not the time to take little people for a spin in a frantic paced city where they live.
Bliss - almost - was mine when I came home to the island. Not knowing what was in store for me with the dishonest, derelict, dumb** construction workers, I made my way to the island paradise to settle in and study for final exams. Almost having an emotional breakdown as I witnessed their stupidity and realized I could do nothing about the situation, I also realized I had to stay there to possibly avoid even worse. Just like the famous Beetles song - I get by with a little help from my friends - I survived the ordeal. I am sure they all wanted to change their phone numbers, but they kindly talked me through the days of hell. Thank you friends!
Now as the summer sun drops further to the south, causing me to readjust my chair when I do crossword puzzles in the morning on the verandah, I look forward to another new experience. Fall leaves. I have not seen fall leaves for four years. It makes me recall describing this phenomena to my Asian friends who had never seen them. They honestly did not believe that leaves can turn into the brilliant array of a crayola crayon box each year. Come to think of it, they don't even know what crayola is. But I am sure I am going to be magically mesmerized as I watch this annual event occur over the next few months. Living in the tropics gave me thought to ponder. After the second year of living in my house, which was directly across a road from a jungle, I looked up from my keyboard and thought 'these trees looks exactly like they did last year, in fact exactly like they looked all year'. After a google search I discovered that although they look exactly like deciduous trees, these guys do not go through a shedding of leaves and budding of new ones. The same leaves I had looked at last year are still exactly there for me to see this year. Being a season person it really felt strange to think that leaves do not die.
It is strange knowing that whatever I might want from the grocery store, I can have. When away I was always thinking I had won a lottery if I found an apple or a piece of beef that resembled a steak. This became so ingrained in me that shopping here brings out the same joy when I score a fresh peach or fall apple. I have to admit though, I do miss the fabulous fruit that I gorged myself on and switched from one to another as the seasons presented the bounty. I think I exaggerated. There was never a piece of beef that resembled anything other than maybe some lumps of stewing meat. Whenever I returned for a visit I begged my friends to not serve me chicken. Chicken was the only meat that I could get there, and if prepared for me, it was 'rare'. Having never eaten rare chicken before that, I never acquired a taste for it then or since. It took me a long, long, time to be able to eat chicken again.
Something that puzzles me now that I am back is the background required to teach English here. I always felt that international experience is a bonus on the resume. What I have discovered is that people are working here in this field having never stepped out of the country. How can they understand the cultural differences of those coming here trying to fit into ours? I am having enough difficulty myself, and I am a native. When I hear these teachers moan about the lack of enthusiasm in the class, and lack of participation from the students I don't bother to tell them that these people need to build a relationship before they begin to participate. I hinted at that, and was told that if they are here they have to figure out how to fit in. I don't agree. Ooops.
I am not sure that this blog will have a long life. Somehow I think that I have assimilated back into home, and that could become rather dreary in reporting here.
No one understood that I did not want to drive a car. No one here knew what kind of driving I had been doing for three years in an insane country as far as driving goes. I certainly did not want to drive a car with my precious grandchildren in it. Never sure which way to look for traffic, never sure which side of the road I was supposed to be on; especially after making a turn; was not the time to take little people for a spin in a frantic paced city where they live.
Bliss - almost - was mine when I came home to the island. Not knowing what was in store for me with the dishonest, derelict, dumb** construction workers, I made my way to the island paradise to settle in and study for final exams. Almost having an emotional breakdown as I witnessed their stupidity and realized I could do nothing about the situation, I also realized I had to stay there to possibly avoid even worse. Just like the famous Beetles song - I get by with a little help from my friends - I survived the ordeal. I am sure they all wanted to change their phone numbers, but they kindly talked me through the days of hell. Thank you friends!
Now as the summer sun drops further to the south, causing me to readjust my chair when I do crossword puzzles in the morning on the verandah, I look forward to another new experience. Fall leaves. I have not seen fall leaves for four years. It makes me recall describing this phenomena to my Asian friends who had never seen them. They honestly did not believe that leaves can turn into the brilliant array of a crayola crayon box each year. Come to think of it, they don't even know what crayola is. But I am sure I am going to be magically mesmerized as I watch this annual event occur over the next few months. Living in the tropics gave me thought to ponder. After the second year of living in my house, which was directly across a road from a jungle, I looked up from my keyboard and thought 'these trees looks exactly like they did last year, in fact exactly like they looked all year'. After a google search I discovered that although they look exactly like deciduous trees, these guys do not go through a shedding of leaves and budding of new ones. The same leaves I had looked at last year are still exactly there for me to see this year. Being a season person it really felt strange to think that leaves do not die.
It is strange knowing that whatever I might want from the grocery store, I can have. When away I was always thinking I had won a lottery if I found an apple or a piece of beef that resembled a steak. This became so ingrained in me that shopping here brings out the same joy when I score a fresh peach or fall apple. I have to admit though, I do miss the fabulous fruit that I gorged myself on and switched from one to another as the seasons presented the bounty. I think I exaggerated. There was never a piece of beef that resembled anything other than maybe some lumps of stewing meat. Whenever I returned for a visit I begged my friends to not serve me chicken. Chicken was the only meat that I could get there, and if prepared for me, it was 'rare'. Having never eaten rare chicken before that, I never acquired a taste for it then or since. It took me a long, long, time to be able to eat chicken again.
Something that puzzles me now that I am back is the background required to teach English here. I always felt that international experience is a bonus on the resume. What I have discovered is that people are working here in this field having never stepped out of the country. How can they understand the cultural differences of those coming here trying to fit into ours? I am having enough difficulty myself, and I am a native. When I hear these teachers moan about the lack of enthusiasm in the class, and lack of participation from the students I don't bother to tell them that these people need to build a relationship before they begin to participate. I hinted at that, and was told that if they are here they have to figure out how to fit in. I don't agree. Ooops.
I am not sure that this blog will have a long life. Somehow I think that I have assimilated back into home, and that could become rather dreary in reporting here.
I Can See Why People Keep Coming Back Here
I did a google check on the new blog and it seems to return you to this one. So, I guess I will plod along here as I see there are many followers.
Nothing much new here today. I am trying to figure out what size of beast is attacking my compost bin at night. I am thinking it is a bear, because removing the locked lid and tossing it a considerable distance is not something a smaller critter could do. As long as he visits in the night when I am definitely not outdoors I guess we can co-exist. Maybe I should just package him a snack before I go to bed and leave it on top of the bin lid.
Nothing much new here today. I am trying to figure out what size of beast is attacking my compost bin at night. I am thinking it is a bear, because removing the locked lid and tossing it a considerable distance is not something a smaller critter could do. As long as he visits in the night when I am definitely not outdoors I guess we can co-exist. Maybe I should just package him a snack before I go to bed and leave it on top of the bin lid.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Time to go
I have decided to sign off here. The readers are dwindling, and I really don't have a lot to say about the adventure any longer. Probably due to the fact I am not on that adventure any longer.
If you want to follow my new adventure you can find me at The Stubble Jumper Goes Home
If you want to follow my new adventure you can find me at The Stubble Jumper Goes Home
Friday, September 5, 2014
Thursday, September 4, 2014
My First Labour Day and More Adventures
What I have learned since I returned to Canada is that much like an immigrant moving to a new country, and much like I felt going to Malaysia, I did't fit. I am not sure why this happened. I just know that it did. Three years away from what I knew left me looking from the outside in. I knew it all, but I was no longer a part of it all. I had to learn how to be here. Maybe it was because I had no home. That sounds dramatic, because my daughter wanted me to live in their home. They had a room for me with privacy, but in that room I had luggage full of tropical clothing. All else was in storage on the island. I arrived in near winter. I was frozen. Not wanting to buy more winter clothing, I would traipse down to Fraser street and buy the odd fleece or sweater to wear over and over until I got back to my things on the island. Now what? I had to do another semester of my master degree, so settled into writing the papers and completing the assignments. It was wonderful reacquainting myself with the grandchildren. But exhausting too. In Malaysia I loved all the little children, but I could go home after a day with them. Here, it was 24/7. Then my wonderful son surprised everyone and got married and bought a house on the island. Not intending to live there immediately, they asked me to stay there to keep an eye on the place. Now several months later, tons of construction, and now more construction, I still have not been able to deal with my own stuff. My things are out of storage, but still boxed up with nowhere to go. I am so fortunate to have children who want me. Many others do not have the same.
This labour day weekend was fantastic. After a $ store trip gathering all sorts of trinkets and toys for the kids we had scavenger hunts, a trip to the Victoria petting zoo, movies, and $store shopping for the kids. We played games, we drew pictures, we ate birthday cake. Seeing this island paradise through the eyes of children is a gift one appreciates. Although the trip is just across the Straits, I appreciate all the time and stress it takes to make it happen. Thank you Jennifer for making it happen.
Now I see that I need to realize I do belong here. I know I can drink the water from the tap. I know that I drive on the right side of the road. I know that we have seasons, and each one of them has its own beauty.
I also know that I better get my butt in gear and finish that thesis. No one is going to do it for me. Right now I will climb up on those bunkbeds and put the clean linen on, ready for the next journey back to see Nana.
But first, a delightful Canadiano from my red espresso that waited those three years for my return.
This labour day weekend was fantastic. After a $ store trip gathering all sorts of trinkets and toys for the kids we had scavenger hunts, a trip to the Victoria petting zoo, movies, and $store shopping for the kids. We played games, we drew pictures, we ate birthday cake. Seeing this island paradise through the eyes of children is a gift one appreciates. Although the trip is just across the Straits, I appreciate all the time and stress it takes to make it happen. Thank you Jennifer for making it happen.
Now I see that I need to realize I do belong here. I know I can drink the water from the tap. I know that I drive on the right side of the road. I know that we have seasons, and each one of them has its own beauty.
I also know that I better get my butt in gear and finish that thesis. No one is going to do it for me. Right now I will climb up on those bunkbeds and put the clean linen on, ready for the next journey back to see Nana.
But first, a delightful Canadiano from my red espresso that waited those three years for my return.
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