hey lady's Finale

What I did this year

I left home and crossed an ocean in search of independence and adventure
I became close friends with some very unlikely people
I ate scorpion twice—and liked it
I drove a scooter
I crashed a scooter
I managed to have my passport held for ransom
I kissed some boys from other countries (tee hee!)
I started listening to club/dance music—and I like it.
I gave some kids confidence and taught them to use it
I climbed the Great Wall of China—twice.
I learned that no one else makes you happy—it’s a personal choice that takes work
I started wearing cute high-heeled shoes and boots everyday—and I look like a rock-star’s Mum in them! Go Mum-in-me!
I learned that ‘venting’ only increases my anger-so I shut the hell up for a change.
I learned that the best thing you can wear is your confidence, and the worst thing you can wear is a see-through dress in front of a projector screen.
I saw someone eat a snake. It was enthralling but sad
I learned that all people who travel are just looking for the next thing to anticipate—and that describes me—and I never knew that before—I thought I was content
I learned that communism looks really harsh-but it’s actually just capitalism with sharper traditional edges
I learned that you can lose it on your students when you have to, but as long as you show them you care and want to help them-they will love you ‘til death
Also, it’s okay to yell in the library and steal their food from their hands—next time, they’ll bring you a snack too!
I learned that I own and want too much, and though my salary is about 8 times larger than the Chinese English teacher that I work with, who essentially has the same job and works longer hours than me—what I make is still not enough and that is disgusting in my gut. How did I become so gross?
I turned 26 and I love being closer to 30! Really!
I realized that all these things and more take time and patience, so it’s MOST important to be good to yourself, good to those who love you, and good to those who need something ‘good’ in their life.

Thanks to everyone back home for their selfless support and love (and for keeping me in your 'loops'). I'm going to miss my best friends out here at Teacher Camp--I'll never forget the huge impact you had on me this year--it's so special to have family all over the world. Finally, I'm going to send a "good wishes" fire ballon over the sea and into the sky in Thailand next week for all my students who made this year so inspiring for me--you made my first year as a teacher so memorable and warm and I am indebted.

So here I go, ending a chapter I've worked so hard on and beginning a new one. But before I do, it's time to go back to Thailand with my Mum to help her with her own adventure. To leave this final blog on a high note, I'd like to share with you all something my Dad wrote to me before I went to Thailand last February (if you have a drink in hand, put it down):

Hi Michelle, thanks for the message..You are starting to worry me with your escapades in the far east!! please be careful of:

- giving over your passport to anyone for the luxury of a brief bit of fun!
- never give your passport to anyone not an "official" required to view it!
- dont talk to strange men......unless you want to go missing.
- keep an eye on your vital organs, they are worth a ton over there!!
- dont talk to strange (albeit charming) men!
- dont accept drinks from strangers!
- watch your drinks!
- never take your eye off your drink!!!
- dont accept drinks, rides, bong hits, etc of ANYONE!!
- keep an eye on your drinks!
- keep your guard up!
- keep your wits about you!!
- travel in septuplettes!!
- go to the loo two by two by two by two = 8!!

You are in a strange land...their turf...please be careful.

I love you, and want to see you again.....alive!!!!
Dad
xoxoxox


I come from good people; and I take them into my classrooms, my relationships, and my likes & loves.
Farewell,

xox
Micha

PS. Playlist: "Way Too Long" by David Myles

Drawing Conclusions

The most important week of the year has finally drawn upon our grade eleven students and teachers. Nerves are shot. Eyes are wide and slightly panicked. The halls are quiet and everyone is looking for some love. I knew this week would come, but I never imagined it would be this strange. My grade elevens are being tested on their reading, writing, listening and speaking skills so as to pass the infamous ESLA exam for their Canadian high school diploma. Without this pass, they can’t even apply to a university outside of China—and that application is the light at the end of the tunnel for most of them.

I know many Canadians struggle to get into university, but I didn’t. My friends didn’t either (not like this). I now see that it is a huge gift that we take for granted because we can speak English and we just don’t understand what that means to millions of non-English speaking people in the world who are struggling because of it. I’m not kidding—these kids fight every day to keep their hopes high, their grades up, and their ESL vocabulary memorable. I mean sure, to be fair, I do teach many students who are what we tag, “yes, no, toaster,” meaning-well-exactly. That is the extent of their English ability-and they could reach further and achieve more-but, to be just-a fair number of them also have undiagnosed learning disabilities that the Chinese education and medical system turns a blind eye to. The rest of them are just regular kids who want to play world of war craft and b-ball instead of studying something incredibly unnatural and difficult.

But I digress…the kids who are wide eyed and needy this week are the ones who cram 100+ new English vocabulary words into their brains each week, use their pocket translators more than their toothbrushes, and strive to have a conversation with me everyday-just to practice. They have big dreams of going to U of T, UBC, U of O, and York—all their family wants for them is to study in Canada and make something of themselves. Imagine having those shoes on your feet, except you are learning French or Spanish and have to leave a well overpopulated Canada in search for an overpriced education and underpaid job so that your parents can eat when they are old.

So when my students come to me before the speaking test this week, just looking for a smile, some words of confidence, or a huge hug—you bet I get emotional. Every so often I peak over the library walls and watch them being interviewed by a foreigner from Canada, my hands get kind of sweaty and I feel uncomfortable and excited. And then afterwards, they find me at my desk and they looked flushed and relieved, telling me the questions they were asked and how they responded—I just wanna whoop and holler like some ballistic mother at a soccer game.

At times I feel completely inadequate for this job-constantly second-guessing what I’m teaching and how I teach it. I wonder if I prepared them for this exam, and am I getting them appropriately prepped for university. I question whether I should be teaching from worksheets, and rule based grammar lessons more and lessening the ‘fun’ aspect of my classroom. In the coffee room today, I was commenting on this with one of my fellow teachers, she is from Newfoundland, retired, international teacher-older than the hills and wiser than we give her credit for. She pointed at the papers I had on the table and she says, “My dear, do you think they’ll remember any of this stuff you taught? Do you remember much of what you were taught in school?”
“No, not really. I could have worked harder I think, then maybe I would.”
“No…no…your wrong there (I love her style). They won’t remember a damn thing you taught them this year—but they will remember how you made ‘em feel. I had a student once write to me after he graduated, and he said, ‘Mrs. _____________, you were the only teacher that ever smiled at me.’ And I tell ya, that really kicked a hole in my bucket.”
No word of a lie—this really happened—and the woman gave me goose bumps and a massive lump in my throat. She went on to tell me that I have the makings of a great teacher, and the way I rail against the unfairness of the Chinese school system reminds her of herself at my age, but she had to learn to choose her battles, and one day I will too. I think she’s right. But earlier this week I discovered one of my students has severe dyslexia, and that’s why her marks have suffered so much this year. It’s June, people. I JUST discovered this. That was a low, loooooow point in my week. It ‘kicked a hole in my bucket.’

Anyway, to conclude, it’s a big week for everyone, and being reminded of how invested I am in my student’s aspirations and day to day choices is the most rewarding feeling I have had a in a long time. I really was meant for this job and I’m grateful to realize that.

PS. One of my students did a PPT about Vancouver for a project we’re doing, and misspelled Stanley Park and wrote Stanky Park instead. Another group of students did a PPT about Montreal attractions and one of them was “Homosexuality Paradise” with an arrow pointing at a subway sign. Gold!

xox

Mix & Match June

My last weekends are for exploring, touching, snapping, and purchasing. I feel in love with this city again this past weekend as I wandered through Hutongs and rode Rickshaws through narrow streets. I also miss being on a boat in Thailand. What adventures I have to reflect on--Oh! The places I went!











June 1st. I now know why teachers complain so much in June despite the fact that an outrageous stretch of holiday time is just around the corner. It's actually something much more human than burnout (what could be more humanistic than that, you ask?),well since I am an expert on humanism and everything **ahem** I think the bedraggled complaints come from a place of sadness over not be needed anymore. I mean, while we are on the topic of honesty here (I know, we're not, but now we are), the truly inspired teachers are the ones who feed off the kid's energy and ride the roller-coaster with them. These teachers feed off of being needed, liked, wanted, admired, and challenged by their classroom families. As I see it, it's an ego boost, and not a bad one. This kind of ego boost gives us intention, unstoppable drive, and unconditional love for the communities we built all year. The trick is to not let it all go to your head and turn into a manipulative power-trip; especially in June, when the kids are checked out and have very little energy to give you.
I gave more "this assignment has stains on it, very few full sentences, and do you have a last name--because apparently on your essay you don't" lectures this week than I had given the whole year. My attitude all week was preposterous! I blamed it on Aunt Flo, the 35 degree classrooms, my diet, the smell of Spam, my excitement over going home soon, sad music, a lack of Youtube, finishing two great TV series' that I love (HBO's Big Love and The Office), running out of hot sauce, not having a coffee shop down the road, my desk mate's ability to check out and watch Oprah during the day, the wind, and my student's half-assed work.
My power trip this week was shameful. They look at me with big sad eyes, offer me weirdo Chinese snacks at the start of class, and try not to sigh too loudly when I keep flipping to the next PPT slide. I feel badly. I'm a monster! But I'm just sad because it's ending, my kids are tired and nothing shakes the classroom walls like it used to, and I have no idea how to make the roller-coaster go through some loopdeeloops, a stiff climb and then a death-defying drop. Do I bring them popsicles? Take them on a field trip to the local public squatter toilet down the street, maybe look at some chickens on the way? I don't have any answers yet, I just hope they can hang in there with me until the bitter end. At least I figured out the root cause to shitty humanism within teachers throughout June. I can check that off the list. Phewf...

I'm just a bag of mix&match emotions these days! My poor students...how I adore their sweet, funny natures.

xox

Birthday Wish

Healthy Choices Don't Exist in Teaching-or-Why I Smell Unwashed

All my students have a MAJOR English language assessment on Wednesday and Thursday this week, which determines whether they are eligible for a Canadian high school diploma. People are stressing, and I am no sunny vacation sitting over here in my cubicle. I spent every available hour prepping them in the library, I am up until midnight still doing term 3 evaluations, and when my principal sent an email reminding our grade eleven team to relax, I could have cried. Haha!

I confess the last two weeks have been stress-filled, what with midterms last week and ESLA exam this week; which is probably why I have been stress-eating Ichiban noodle soup, and why I have fallen madly in love with the lead singer from The Strokes. I sent a drippy email to Chad this morning complaining about how love sick I am for this sketchy-lookin' dude, and I download music video upon music video just to watch him out of the corner of my eye while I am lesson planning.

Little Michelle in the back of my brain is warning me to implement some healthy choices to relax and unwind so I don't crack; but I'm still a first-year teacher and this really isn't the time of year to practice new career skills. So instead, I blog, I kick co-workers yoga mats around the office, and listen to terrible music (like Timbaland's 'Undertow').

Oh! Before I skip out on this blog, I met Helen's parents on Sunday afternoon and she was a riot as usual! She nearly tackled me when she saw me crossing the courtyard, and was complaining how her parents went inside the cafeteria where all the other students were and she was so embarrassed of them. Later, she introduced me to her mother and I commented how beautiful she was, to which Helen translated and then leaned in and said, "Yes, I think so too, but a little fat I think." Haha! The next day she told me how proud she was to have me meet her parents, and she was sorry for yelling at them in front of me. "That's okay Helen, I don't understand Chinese and it doesn't matter because Chinese people are always yelling at each other. Loudest people in the world."

Gotta go, thanks for listening.
PS. I love and dedicate this blog to my deskmate Jess-she is the best.

Happy Birthday Chad!

I Heart Nanliguxian and Pie, Always

I watched a live Improv showdown in Beijing last night and soaked up every moment-I think I was the loudest laugher in the whole room! 7 improv teams from around Asia (Tokyo, Korea, Shanghai, Beijing) came together for a weekend Improv showcase and I got to watch the round robin event. I thought it was so awesome because many of the teams were mixed nationalities, the whole thing was in English except for the occasional Chinese phrase thrown in there for giggles, and it was just really cool to see Asian performers jump the second language barrier time and time again in something as high intensity as improv. Outrageous!
The theatre was in this hard-to-get-to-as-a-white-person kind of place, so Jess and I were really lost, but when the show let out we decided to find some good on sticks for dinner, and wandered through the area. The area was called Nanluguxian, and it is hands-down my new favourite spot in Beijing. It's all cute little stores and boutiques, cafes, pubs, and clubs all set inside these teeny tiny Chinese Hutongs (which are very very small traditional Chinese houses with cool looking thatched roofs).The streets are cobbled and sometimes you catch the strong whiff of toilet outrage as you walk along the streets-but the place is rad! I can't wait to go back next weekend! I think I might even go there for my birthday in a few weeks! YeeYee! On another note, May is an fabulous month because next weekend I am going to an international/local music festival that features many great local bands as well as Avril Levigne (!!!), The Editors, Hot Hot Heat (!!!), and Ladytron. Actually, I am excited fro them all. It will be hilarious to see literally millions of Chinese teenagers rocking out to Avril-they abslutely LOVE her over here. They are OBSESSED with her. And in turn, I too have grown to appreciate the tattered and torn acoustic side of fair Avril. Go girl.
And this month of May also brings my 26th birthday, which officially means there are sections of H&M that I can no longer shop in, there are certain neons colours I should not wear unless I am crunk, it means I am a couger (yep-it does), and that my high school reunion is only two short years away. Yay 26. To celebrate, I have planned a day of rollercoasters at the Happy Valley themepark here in the city-it's like a smaller Disneyland and super cheap. Then, we are ordering pies from the pie shop to be delivered to a location and we are eating many kinda of pie for dinner. Pie for everyone. EVERYONE! PIE!

So I love what is to come in May. And I love Beijing Improv. And I need to work on my concluding summary-writing skills because I am setting a very poor example for my students: "To conclude, improv I like and pie very delicious. Go roller-coaster! You too?" Yep. I've got some work to do.

PS. Today I am going to a tailor to have some clothing made!!!
PPS. Tonight I am seeing a great band, The Radio Dept. from Sweden, in a teeny tiny club in Beijing. Stoked. STOKED!

Mich
xox

Hey Lady! is Ms. Frizzle for a Day

I hate it when those nagging life/career lessons show up in the classroom and cause me to walk back to my desk with sinking shoulders, biting my lip and feeling like a total sack of crap. A sack of crappy crap. It’s also raining today, and I look awesome—but now I am having a hard time enjoying those two things (just sayin’).
As I mentioned in my post before, it is mid-term week and I am done marking (Hallelujah!), and compiling all the grades for term 3. Most of my student’s marks are considerably lower this term because many bombed the exam (they always go into the exam thinking it’s too easy so we kind of slammed them this time-but in a healthy way…)-well they bombed heinously, made sloppy mistakes and rushed outta there. We also introduced a few new skills this term, like essay writing and a hefty novel study and more speaking tests-so their marks were lower in the assignments/testing areas too. It was a hard term, okay!
So I decided the marks should be posted by student number and after my mini lecture on grades being lower, and how they should light a fire under they asses for term 4 because universities look at their grade 11 final grades etc etc…(same lecture I heard in high school, yes, I know-shoooooosh!) I put their grades on the wall.

Well I must have forgotten to remind them to not cry until after I left the room, because holy mo it was heavy in there. My 11-4’s are needy anyway and they think they are absolutely brilliant (all needy people do)—so I was expecting some dismayed looks—I mean, and let’s put this in perspective here—they all scored over 72, so tears are a little dramatic and as they quickly discovered, an ineffective way of earning my sympathy. Naturally I invited them to speak to me after school and work harder than ever in term 4, and come see me for help as much as possible—but many just refused to even acknowledge me in the room. Fine. Play your game. I’ll be waiting for you at my desk with a chipper smile and a little candy in the jar for you.

I did the same song and dance for 11-11, and there were more 50’s and 40’s in that class because though I love those kids, many are lazy, or cheat, or sleep. Beggers can’t be choosers…what? Anyway...**Lucy scored 1% higher than Helen and Helen hit the roof (to the point that I had to remind her that I am the teacher and she is the student and if she wants to speak to me about HER grade, she needs to be polite and respectful and stop demanding my mark-book and poking my arm). Actually it was more like this, “Helen, stop being crazy and stop poking me!”

So my crappy sack of crap lesson is that it’s tough to give out grades and become the most hated person in the room, but it’s true that I’m not their friend—I’m their teacher and teachers have shitty jobs. Wait—no—that’s not the lesson. I need to feel okay about being hard as nails about their grades this term-and being hated for a little while. These kids get the best of me, everyday—my roommate would be happy to confirm that for you. They get all my patience, my leniency, creativity, generosity, smiles and sarcasm. The rest of the world gets my nuggets. Sorry world.

But it is time for me to be more firm (here we go): a deadline is a deadline and yes I give zeros if you waste my time or hand something to me that was due 2 months ago just because you failed the class. I will not tell you your essay is great if it reads like a bunch of chinglish sentences on a T-shirt sold for 30 cents beside the sugar-roasted rat stand. If you get a 58% on the midterm exam, I will make you write a whole other exam to try to score higher, but that is the pinnacle of my leniency. You will work hard and type everything, and ask for help for every assignment until you are blue in the face because I notice those who ask for help and those who don’t, it’s true—and it matters to me. I will spend hours with you after school practicing your English and I won’t even complain about how hungry I am and how my ears sometimes bleed from listening too closely, and I do this because I like you and I know you can make it to university because I have never seen anyone so young want something so much. We have crazy classes where we build and mold and watch and record and create and explore and laugh and share-but if you ever stop reflecting on what you are learning from the assignments, I will notice you slacking and don’t you dare utter the words, “The E.L. midterm is so easy, teacher, we don’t have to study” because I will make sure you spend the rest of class with duct tape over your mouth. GREENZO OUT!! (Thank-you Taylor Mali and 30 Rock for that moment).

Holy-I’m not even kidding-Helen and two other students came by my desk just now and apologized for what happened in class and promised to work harder. I gave them cute Canada pencils and used encouraging adjectives. I love these kids and the ones with low marks keep me awake at night, but upping their grades into the 80’s doesn’t do them any favours down the road. It’s just for some of them, they work so hard and they really want to master English and go straight to university in Canada and make their families proud and have the prosperous lives they were promised—so when they only get 72% and they look at me like, “how could you betray me like this? I worked hard for you!” I get all messed up and crappy-feeling.

So why is it that I work my butt off all term to motivate and give them the skills they need, they end up with low marks and disdain in their mouth anyway, and I am awake until 3am asking myself, “Am I doing enough?” “Does this get easier?” “Is now the time to have children?” Wait—that last one is a digression and completely off-topic.

It’s really hard.

I only have 70 days left with these guys and 70 days left with this blog.

Okbye.

Midterm to Homeward Bound

It is mid-term week and I am marking what feels like hundreds upon zillions of exams. This morning I listened to 3.5 hours of the Weakerthans while marking and I feel like a renewed woman all zipped on caffeine, HiChew candies, and outrageously addictive lyrics.

Last night, Mark and I played badminton with Helen, JW, Sunny, Lucy and Paul (our 11-11 gangstas-because Mark teaches them too) and I am certain that it was the best night I have had yet in China! The girls cornered me and made me choose my favourite male teacher on staff--since they really can't let it go that neither Mark nor Kyle is my boyfriend (this just baffles them to no end)--they were severely disappointed and confused when I made up a name and insisted that I loved this person they'd never heard of. That'll stall them for at least another week. "But Michelle, why no Mark, why no Kyle?" "No why, Sunny. No why."
When Helen challenged me to a badminton-off she walked up to me like some kind of concert security figure and pointed her racket at me and said, "I show you how to be great woman of sport!" She whooped my ass and owned her sport. The funniest point was when someone's Tennis ball flew into out court and Helen picked it up and tried to throw it back over the fence, but she couldn't get it high enough so each time it would rickashay off the the fence and go hurling across the court. She freak out and have to go get it and try again while we all just stood and laughed.

I'm gonna miss that girl more than anyone.

I'm out, the bell just rang and it is snack time.
PS. I'll be home in 90 days! Meep!

xox

Google Translate is Ruining My Sunday

I just...need to share...because...it's, just, so, exhausting.

Watching movies and reading books are two ways to learn. I think they both have good points and bad points. But to me. I prefer to watch movie.
Watching movies is the most interesting way to learn. For example, math is so boring and I do not like math. But I will like math if I watch movies to learn math. If math teacher could show us the geometry by movies, we would study effectively. I think the joy of (math-learning) would be found by me. I also think to young students who do not have interests in learning, will enhance their learning skills dramatically. When students are tired or they fell boring, watching movies will carry more fun.
There are also have good point to reading, it can help us understand knowledge better. But this world is changing rapidly. We need to adapt to this world. For example, “1+1=2“may be true, but may be wrong next week. By contrast, watching movies is more quickly. we can learn from many area-learn for people’words.action.cases and situations. So watching movies is a fantastic way to learn.
I strangely suggest every teachers to teach by watching movies. It will give students a chance to learn happily. This is a new, innovative learning method. So let’s make a change.


I love this student, she is just a gem, but not only does she need to read more books, she also needs to write more.

Worst Sunday ever. I want to go back onto the patio into the sunshine, reading my trashy summer novel like I did at 8am this morning. Who could have known that I'd have 25 of these to mark? I really need to stop assigning essays.

Help.
xox

This One Is For Liz

Summer has arrived in Beijing! Everyday the sun shines (even through the smog!), the cherry trees blossom bright pink and then turn to green within a few hours...a place that once looked like black and white Pleasantville now looks like the height of a great renaissance! It's a wonderful time to live in Beijing! Supposedly the weather is magical for a few weeks, and then the epic sandstorms hit and we are covered in dust and dirt for about a month, and then the heat wave washes over us and we claw our way toward the airport to get the heck outta China. Supposedly...

This is the first time I have ever taught classes everyday through the winter season and then transitioned into Spring, and I have to admit; it feels like a rebirth in the classroom. Students shed layers, and wear the coolest converse shoes and brighter clothes, we laugh more, and listen to music in class while we work, there is less complaints about quizzes and late assignments, I give them more independence and raise my expectations to which they meet without hesitation--it's just the greatest feeling for everyone. We have midterm exams next week and the their Canadian High School diploma mock-exam the week after, so everyone is wound tightly in periods 1, and 4 (at least this is what I have observed-the one after lunch is a killer because their brains are buzzing from cramming too much information into their brains while sipping litres of prune juice and eating dried fish snacks). This is why I was not surprised at what happened first period today-my class 11-4 was working really well, finishing a written assignment before the weekend, I noticed a bit of quiet commotion at the back of the room and so asked what was going on. "An insect."

"Gross," I responded, "I want to see-what kind?" They couldn't think of the name, but it didn't matter, I took one look and panicked-it looked like a cockroach to me! Naturally I lifted my leg dramatically and they screamed, 'Nooooooooo!!!" It was too late, I crunched that sucker insect before it could pray for forgiveness. The class was silent. I turned and looked at them, realizing that I might have made a huge cultural mistake-but how? They eat bugs on sticks all the time!!! They eat baby birds! "Well--it was an insect! It could carry diseases and it could hurt you!! I had to kill it to protect you!" They started murmuring to each other, and staring at me, some staring in disbelief at the smooshed bug on the floor. "Teacher, it smells." "Huh?" I've had the most discusting cold for a week now, so I haven't been able to smell anything for a week (which is great because I can use the toilet at the school without gagging-result!), "That bug, it smells when you kill it. It smells bad." "Oh. Sorry guys. I can't smell it because I'm sick." Then the bell rang. "Well, Have a good day and weekend, everyone! Sorry..." And I left them with that putrid stink and the smooshed insect on the floor.

I had two great "teacher moments" this week that I have to write about because I'm scared that if I don't I won't remember them for next time--plus, I like to brag! One of my students, we'll call him Peter, is so smart-he loves facts about wars and countries-he talks a mile a minute and no one understands him, I just adore Peter. However, as with most brilliant people, he is an absolute mess of a boy. His desk always looks like a horder's dream house, he is never working on what I give him whenever I walk by him, he hands nothing in on time, and never seems to know what is going on. Like-this kid is a mess. Even his glasses are so smudged I can't look at them. I gave up on trying to organize Peter into a successful human in November; now, I just choose to accomodate him and play "baby-sitter" only for really important things. The students had to give me a persuasive speech after school this week, they had to book an appointment and I even gave them 2 library periods to get ready. But when Peter didn't show up on Monday, I reminded him. No show Tuesday also. By Wednesday I was at wits end. I stalked into the library to find him reading Forbes Magazine (what??!!), "Peter you missed you speech again today." He gave another weak excuse. I explained that this is the third time and I've lost patience. He asked if he could do it right now. Yes. He asked what topic he should speak about. I explained that he was to pick the topic last week and do research, I am not looking for an impromptu speech, Peter. (How dare you waste my time-I'm a busy woman on beautiful afternoons, I like to eat meat off sticks down the street, don't you know?!) I repeated the assignment instructions for him and he said he would be ready tomorrow for sure. I wanted to walk away and just leave it, but I was annoyed, there has to be some consequence for this behaviour. "Peter, this can't keep happening. You rarely hand assignments in, you never know what the assignment is, you have missed your speech time three days in a row now--I am having a hard time respecting you as my student right now. I need you to think of some kind of consequence for yourself and your actions. I am not going to punish you, or suggest a consequence for you, you are going to think of one and tell me what that will be tomorrow. Okay?" He tells me he will be better, he promises, but I stand firm-the child must put lotion on his skin. So the next day rolls around and he gives me his speech, it's not bad, scattered, but not bad at all. He also informs me that he will punish his actions by asking me to take three marks off his total grade for this assignment (Impressive!), and in the future, he wants to bring his calander to me and ask me to write deadlines on the calender dates for him, and furthermore, can I please make him come in after school for a "make up class" if he is late with an assignment?

As he was saying all this, I was pretty sure the heaven's opened up. I don't know where he got this performance from, but I was melting.

The next great moment this week was when I decided to give some recognition to my improving students by giving them a little EL Improvement Award in class, wagonwheels for everyone, and an encouraging letter home to the award winner's parents. Well, **Chris really struggled in term 1, and 2. I mean, that kid was on every hit list-he did nothing, he talked non stop, he was getting suspended for spoking, and sneaking "outside food" into campus over the wall at the back, he had zero regard for EL class and he was a scrapper. But Chris also had this sense of humour that would come out, and this is why I still thought he was gold even when I wanted to throttle him in class. He'd make me laugh when I was angry and it just about killed me every time. Chris hadn't passed EL in term 1 and 2, but somewhere along this term, I began noticingthat Chris was handing in assignments, they were finished and pretty decent for 11-11 standard. He was working with **Paul a lot and together they were becoming a force to be reckoned with in my class-they even had Helen on edge sometimes! But Chris is still a fighter, so he was still catching hell from for touching people, I made him sit on his hands for 5 minutes one day! What is this--1919?? Chris' attitude has changed too, he is helpful and funny--earlier this week when **James asked if I like "SM" (Thanks Rhianna and Brittany for that one...) I was shocked and Chris immediately stood and told James to shut up in Chinese, to which I could only answer, "Yes James, shut up."

So Chris got an award this week and a letter home to his folks, he was blown away in class, and blushing like crazy, I saw him reading the letter afterwards and Paul patted him on the back and he just smiled and shook his head. I seriously wanted to cry. It was awesome. It made me think about that Taylor Mali sketch, "What Teacher's Make" and how he says something about calling home during dinner time, and it sounds so sinister, but he just wanted to tell the kid's parents how awesome the kid was, how he was courageous and stood up to a bully in class and they should be proud of him. Well yeah! I know I'm new at this, but it is so rare that as teachers we even think to reward the kids for just working hard that week, finishing their work early, or that we think to contact oparents and say how rad their kid is. I'm excited to integrate this into my teacher-lifestyle in the future. Sigh. I could really go for a hot lunch hot dog and icecream cup right about now.

I just bit my co worker, Jess, lightly on the arm a moment ago. She is so patient.

Anyway, I'm feeling good about the weather, I'm feeling good about eating meat and tofu off of sticks at the BBQ down the street again, I'm feeling good about coming home in a few months, and I'm feeling good about my students and their efforts. I am so lucky. I even applied for a teaching job in Calgary at a charter school, and will continue to apply to every vacancy I come across. Feels good.

This weekend will be a balmy 33 degrees, and I plan to take my denim shorts out for a stroll in a trendy area called Hou Hai, it's on a lake and there are bars on rooftops and cool antique stores and vintage fashions up and down the streets. I'm going to stroll and sip my coffee and snap my camera, and then plant myself on a roof and drink cheap beer for a few hours in the heat. I'm really looking forward to the subway ride home when I am sunburned and tipsy, surrounded by hot, sweaty Beijingers who can't help but stare incessantly at "Whitey with the pale legs in the denium cutoffs." It doesn't get more American than that.

Tell me some fun Spring stories of your own via email, I need some sugah!

exes and ohs

PS Playlist: Adele, 'Rollin' In The Deep' and 'Rumour Has It'
Neon Indian
Theophilus London

Lazy Sunday + I ran 10km

I ran 10km's in 1:03 today. I didn't come in first, not even close; but I am pretty self righteous at the moment! ESPECIALLY because I have a sinister chest cold that leaves me coughing up all kinds of special treasures on the side of the road.

And now that that accomplishment has a checkmark beside it, I have an afternoon planned with my good friends Mr. Couch, Mr. Toast, and Mr. Mark (who is lovely, risking his own health to sit with me and watch Kill Bill 1 and 2 all afternoon). He says he likes my raspy voice. I do too!

Have a beautiful Sunday, my lovelies-another week gone!

exes and ohs

I Got My Hur Did...

I took a vote a couple weeks ago after showing my students a picture of a total babe with short hair, asking them if I should also cut my hair. In each class, at least 85% of them said “no.” So naturally, I did. I’ll admit, it looked pretty les’y when I was sitting in the stylist’s chair, and I was really bummed when I got home. Luckily, I work with some of the greatest girls and they crowded into my apartment to do damage control. There was hair straightening, hairspray battles, pomade wars; before I knew it, I was pulling on tights, a rad black dress and high heeled boots-ready for a night out in the city. They taught me that the best way to deal with a lesbian haircut is to rock it out on the town and tell yourself you love it until you do. And now I do (even if it still is a teeny-weeny bit short ;))
As for my students; they were shocked, some were hurt. Haha! Keep in mind that Chinese students will tell you exactly what they think without care for how it might make you feel-I admire their bluntness, but I also fear it as if it were a Lamper Eel. I explained that in the Spring, I need a change-but the change can initially be shocking and upsetting. Sometimes in life, you get a bad hair cut, but you need be a big girl and make yourself love it. So in turn, they must call me beautiful every single day. When my 11-11’s come into class late, they stand at the door and say, “Beautiful teacher, may I please come in?”
This is what I will miss about teaching in China.

This weekend a number of us flew down South to Wunan and Xiantou to witness a traditional Chinese wedding between one of our Canadian co-workers (Rod) and his beautiful Chinese wife, Jo-Jo. Imagine 17 ‘whiteys’ flying to a remote place in China (okay-it was explained to be a small town-but with a population of a little over a million!), to not only bear witness to a Chinese wedding, but to BE THE WEDDING PARTY! Typical unexpectedness for China…The city we were in actually did act shocked to see so many white people-there were hard stares, and lots of giggles. One woman came up to me with her baby and put her face 3 inches from mine! It was the coolest thing! In a Chinese wedding, the wedding party are dressed in Chinese garments and some walk in front playing instruments, carrying signs, and some carry a giant box that the bride is supposed to sit in once we go to her home and pick her up. Imagine our surprise when we were handed Chinese clothes and instruments. Basically, we participate in a LOUD OBNOXIOUS processional around town for a couple hours in the morning, stopping traffic, and drawing crowds, setting off fireworks, and banging drums. Then, we go to the bride’s home and the groom gets off the horse he has been riding (yep!), and goes inside with us all. His family asks a series of questions about the bride and he has to answer them perfectly and each time hand over a red envelope with money in it-essentially buying her from her father. Then he is permitted to see her in her childhood bedroom, made to search for her shoes, and then together they bow and are blessed by the family. He must carry his bride out into the streets and place her into her big box, and then the processional carries on through the town to the ceremonial place. Another ceremony occurs, they must walk down an isle and she must step over fire and an apple, they must pour tea for the sets of parents and then are again blessed by a ‘host.’ After which, we all take photos, back out into the street, more fireworks, more hubalaboo, shots of bijou (like tequila but so much worse), confetti-and on to the after party. It was a real honour to be invited to the wedding, and also to be a part of the wedding party. I can honestly say that I ate so much duck that I think I might be off duck for life. On the other hand, I am obsessed with tofu skin now—oh me oh my—It is “delicers,” as my students would say! Also, a newfound dish that I love is white rice, spinach paste, and salty peanuts all mixed together. Simple and earthy. I love. OH! I forgot this one piece of gossip from the wedding (because all good weddings have drama)—so—the bride’s family were incredible, they were the best hosts and some spoke English and really helped us out-we were very gracious. But the night of the wedding, we arrived at the reception to find there were no tables left, so the bride’s father asked a couple families to leave the tables and cram into other tables (which, by the way was really awkward for us because we felt like assholes and had no way to communicate it), so the women at the table got all crazy and started screaming, and one man flipped two tables that were covered in dishes to be served the guests. It was a total scene!
After the wedding, we all went out with the bride’s drunken cousins to KTV (karaoke), and sang as much Lady Gaga as we could.

Lastly, MY MUM IS COMING TO BEIJING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She arrives July 29th at 4:15 pm, school is done on July 1st, and on July 4th we are flying to Thailand to celebrate her 50th and my 26th birthday in bikinis with Muai Thais in hand! I am so excited to show her off to my friends out here and to take her shopping and to the Great Wall. I feel like I might explode! It means that I won’t be arriving back in Calgary until 4pm on July 18th, but I WILL be home for Folk Fest! It also means that I get to go back to Thailand for a 3rd time in my life—which is the coolest thing ever. It also means that my Mum gets to meet Helen-also the coolest thing ever.

Time to scoot to class,
exes and ohs, mon amies.
M.

100 Days Until School is Out

I’ve got cockroaches and the new Hey Rosetta album. I guess I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t. Oh China.
Last Thursday night, the staff had a raucous St. Patty’s day party at the local beer hole in the Chinese alley across the street. This place is called Wei Wei’s and Wei Wei is pretty cool I think, but I don’t know if I actually know which one he is. I’ve never asked, now that I think about it. But he must be cool because his hole serves cheap, cold beer to teachers and students on any given day. The walls are covered in Polaroid photos of the regulars from the past ten years in BCCSC history. Students sign their names and write Chinese quotes and Chinglish sentiments suitable for the bathroom stall. On this particular day, we requested that all students be turned away at the door so that they teachers could sing Maritimer-Irish songs, blare Great Big C from the boom box, and drink as much beer as $15 Canadian dollars can afford (30 bottles--for the record). I can actually say this was the best St. Patty’s Day I have ever had. Our principal dropped $150 on the whole night, food and drinks for 20 people-amazing! The green beer took its affect rather quickly, as we met there immediately after a notoriously useless staff meeting, and had nothing on the brain but consumption. After a few carols, we started to edit the student’s writing on the walls with our red markers, noting verb tense problems and punctuation issues we’ve stared at for months now. It felt good. We must have been a good crowd because Wei Wei, or whoever, caught us all on video. I pity the foo who feels compelled to show that to our students one day.
But then there were the cockroaches. Bri and I headed back to our apartment to finish the night off with water, carbs, and a St. Patty’s Day Office special (the one where Jim builds mega-desk, thus infuriating Dwight-love it). Well, that was the idea anyway, but there were cockroaches all over the place, you see. So that really killed it for us. We freaked. We were not in a good head-place to deal appropriately with the little creepy crawlies, so we ‘raided’ the dorms for “Raid” and sprayed every nook and cranny of our home. This only brought out more cockroaches, willing to die in the light after crawling for freedom from underneath sinks and dressers. It was sad, but vindicating to see them on their backs, gasping their last breaths. Poor Bri, one took a poop on her bathroom floor before kicking it. We both tossed and turned all night and woke up with headaches and likely a respiratory problem from breathing in Raid all night.
Luckily, our principal demanded that our apartment be fumigated, but forgot to mention us to when this would happen. When I came home after school to get ready to go into Beijing, the house air was putrid and burned my esophagus. Thanks for the heads up, guys. You’d think that if you fumigate an employee’s apartment, you’d find them a place to sleep for the night, and WARN them when it will take place. But no…not in this country. TABERNAC!

But the new Hey Rosetta almost makes up for the entire scandal. Almost…it’s not the same, listening to it outside of New Brunswick, apart from Jen, Cate, Greg, and Amy. It makes me miss the rain, and Snooty Fox nachos.

Today I woke up freezing (the shut off the heating a week ago and it is still cold out), and I was immediately in a grumpy mood. I bored my first class with a lame power-point lesson on writing a persuasive essay, I had 11-11 for a double after that, and the work I gave them was way too hard and so instead I babysat, nagged, chased, glowered, pouted, and tracked my plummeting self worth as a decent educator. By the time I made my way into my advanced 3 class, I had no joy. Straight off the bat I took the route of honesty, I said, “Guys, I am so grumpy. I am really sorry, I am just in a bad mood today and I can’t hide it anymore.” One of my wittier boys asked, “Teacher, what the meaning of grumpy?” “It’s like, I dunno…just…in a bad mood…angry, sad…mixed up.” “Oooohhh” they resounded. “Maybe you can help me by thinking of something to say that will make me happy,” I suggested They were quiet for a minute, I wondered if I had made a mistake by throwing my emotions at them and being honest, Maybe I made them feel uncomfortable. “Be a man!” one of the boys in the middle suddenly yelled out. Everyone lost it. Of course! We all laughed. I skipped the shitty lesson on persuasive writing and instead tested their listening skills. I told them a dramatic version of the story of the Boy Who Cried Wolf and asked them to make up a thirty-second play displaying what they heard me tell them. The results were undeniably the most atrocious recaps I had ever seen-I don’t even think they listened!! I don’t think I understood anything they said in their plays because their actions were so ridiculous and unexpected that we howled the whole time. So my day took flight and ended much like an episode of Full House: Danny Tanner is holding me in his sweet loving arms right now and the angels are singing.

I've got some collating to do, you kids have a good day, now!
xox

Here She Is

Chinese does not translate easily to English. Some of my students take shortcuts in life: they cut their own hair, they leave class early to go the 'bathroom' aka the bathroom stall where they smoke their faces off and retch into the sink, and they eat Choreos-which are like Oreos, but Chinese tasting. Different. Not gross, but not the same all-American taste that I love. The shortcut that really grinds me is the "I'm going to write you an essay, but I'll do it in Chinese and then google translate it, before copy-pasting into a word document and printing it off for you, Teach-yo-face." You try it! This is the insurmountable reason for Chinglish! The first month, it was cute. The fourth month, it was my fault-I'm the crap teacher that can't properly teach them how to use 'articles' like "and" "but" "the" "is" "for" in their writing. I've entered my 7th month-I'm like a saucy stuffed cabbage casserole ready to give birth to these young literary genius', but still, I am reading sentences that start with words like, "runnly fast I did."

Mmm. Yes. Yes you did. I'm certain.

It's good to return from a hot vacation in Thailand and sit down to 90 memoirs written in google translate. It's a relief to have three beautiful friends back home who gather to watch the Oscars and wind up bored and on Skype with the intention of blowing my mind with their smiles and stories of butterflies. I love home...ness. Heh.

Some of my students went to Canada on a school trip for their vacation, I made them do a PPT presentation and tell the class of their adventures in the big cities (Vancouver, Edmonton, Montreal and Toronto), and small New Brunswick towns like St. Stephen and Bathurst. Haha-yes-I know what you are thinking, Cate and Jen! In their reflections, they realized that they need to know how to speak and hear English to get by in a grade 9 class (fooled me), they need more practice at snowshoeing to join the winter Olympics (Haha-a small lie on my part), and they respect teachers so much more than the kids in St. Stephen Senior High school do. Obviously, why else do young teachers head to China to teach? I was, however, abashed at how much their English improved in four weeks. I felt like a proud Mum having conversations with them and I got all teary when I complimented their speaking skills. My little monsters-taking on the world!

In the two weeks I've been back in school, we've been playing lots of speaking games and practicing our 'th' and 'v' sounds, as well as a new game that has only left me red faced and vulnerable. The object of the game is to see who can avoid being asked a personal question by me. They can choose to either ask me one, or I get to ask them one. Thinking they would ease into it with questions about my favourite colour and my middle name, I felt calm. However, Chinese students are always saying the first thing they think: "What's wrong with your hair?" "My Mom is fat but lovely," "Coffee makes you stink." Naturally their questions surrounded my personal life: boyfriends, marriage, babies, nightbar frequenting, preference-chinese vs. whitey men...oh the list. Anyway, my 11-11's are focussed on setting me up with my co-worker Mark because he is 28, athletic, white, and loves pizza best, like me. Mark and I giggle about their attempts at the water cooler after class and then trade Helen stories. At least they are speaking excitedly in English. Lots of yelps and arm flapping from that class.

Outside of Teacher Camp, I've been getting ready for a 10km run for the British International school (I got roped in by some friends) and really hating my life around the 3Km, wanting to rip off my legs around 6km, and cheating around 7-claiming that I'm at 8-surely! I also went snowboarding on Sunday! Holy Mo. It was a meek hill with a ski lift, so that was a plus, but have you ever driven in China? No. Course not. Uumm..dare I say this...you know when your Mum screams at 'that idiot driver' and upon further investigation exclaims, "A Chinese! Of COURSE!" Well... I snowboarded their hill. Enough said? Hope so. I still love the Chinese, it's just, I nearly lost my life 9 times 500 on Sunday. Oh the rage.
I'm going back this Saturday.

Other than all that sass, the countdown has started-4 months and 7 days until I get to drink Tim Horton's coffee, walk into Beano and order a bagel and butter, scoff at the unoriginality of Aritzia compared to Chinese thrift stores, and maul my dearly beloveds until they beg me to let go and get off. Pretty excited. BUT-I still have lots to do here, so that's my other primary focus before I close my eyes at night.

And with that, I leave you, mommy needs another nightcap. Gots to go to bed so I have fresh eyes for the darlings tomorrow (yesterday one my of students asked why I have dark lines under my eyes and in my head I whimpered, 'It's the addictions-they're killing me." Instead i asked why she wears fake eyelashes, "It's pretty" "Oh yeah? Well in Canada, girls with bags under their eyes have stories to tell-and that makes them attractive.")

Don't let the bedbugs,

xox

Where Two Cents Can Take You

Ko Samui--

Ko Samui has more of an urban sprawl than Ko Tao; it's commercialized and busy, but is large enough of an island that you can choose your damage easily. We are staying on Chaweng Beach, which is known as the party beach and high commercial area, but even within Chaweng there is a slower, quieter end (which is where we are staying). Our "hostel" is partnered with a fancy resort hotel (Seaside Hotel) so essentially, we are staying at a resort and using all it's ammenities on a backpacker's dime! It was complete luck that we found this place, and we have settled comfortably into the retirement section of the poolside. Everyday we wake up, put on our suits, grab an ice coffee from the bar and laze around the pool or on the beach. We bought boogie boards and so I make a point of near-drowning myself in these waves everyday. We contemplated renting seadoos, but with our recent luck and with Jesus taking a break from our wheel, we decided otherwise.
An entertaining portion of Chaweng is what I call Jersey Shore. Around Al's Resort is a section of professional tanners and body builders who are either italian, scandinavian, or arabian; and it doesn't matter who you are, how old you are or how attractive you are-they will catcall you. A daily jaunt down to Al's Resort will cure even the most hate-filled of the self-haters. After the sun falls, we crash in our hotel room and watch Top Model, nap, shower, and plan to hit the dirty streets of Samui. Recently, we went to the Fisherman's Village and tried an array of scary and unidentifiable food items and set off fireworks on the beach. Livin' large.
Yesterday I was thinking about how easy it is to 'fall off the grid.' I never considered a lifestyle of traveling and teaching until last Spring when I decided to plunge into a teaching job in China. I never viewed myself as an international teacher, and I still have a hard time finding an identity in that-I just feel like Im on a long vacation and running away from my student loans. I have talked to other travelors who have motor-biked through Vietnam, taken the slow boat on the Mekong for days, slept on the side of the road in Cambodia, danced until dawn at the Full Moon parties on Panyang, gotten married underwater while scuba diving, jumped from the highest waterfall in Indonesia, rode an elephant through the jungle, played with monkeys, lived in trees and ziplined from destination to destination, and dranken too many "special milkshakes" in Laos. Those people are true travelors living off a backpacker's dime and looking for the next conversation, the next soul-mate, the next close call, the next ferry ride out of here. Those people have truly fallen off the grid, they teach english and don't worry about their professional lives back home. They live off Thai Baht, and still make a killing out here. I envy their life, their scars, their discusting matted hair and perma-tanned-cancerous skin. I wonder, could I be like them one day? What would it take? Is that the life I'm supposed to choose or is there something else?
But the beauty of Ko Samui is that these thoughts are fleeting because this place is so chill, and while it might seem like I'm thinking too much about it, it's a passing thought that I know I can always return to later. I don't need to decide my professional fate this year or even in the next few years. I could teach at home for a year and then go away for a year, every year, for the rest of my life. If you don't want to be on the grid, you don't have to-but there is safety on the grid and I think that is enticing to most North Americans raised in the public or private school system.

Anyway, those are my two cents for the day-and two cents here can buy you a fruit shake, and now I'm craving one of the those so I gotta go.
I love you,

xox

PS Playlist: Owen Pallett, "Heartland" (holy moly!)

'Teacher Man' by Frank McCourt

I love this exerpt from "Teacher Man" by Frank McCourt (also wrote 'Angela's Ashes' and 'Tis'):
Find what you love and do it. That's what it boils down to. I admit I didn't always love teaching. I was out of my depth. You're on your own in the classroom, one man or woman facing five classes everyday, five classes of teenagers. One unit of energy against one hundred seventy-five units of energy, one hundred seventy-five ticking time bombs, and you have to find a way of saving your own life. They may like you, they may even love you, but they are young and it is the business of the young to push the old off the earth. You have to learn the tricks. It's hard, but you have to make yourself comfortable in the classroom. You have to be selfish.
The classroom is a place of high drama.You'll never know what you've done to, or for, the hundreds coming and going. You see them leave the classroom: dreamy, flat, sneering, admiring, smiling, puzled. After a few years you develop antennae. You can tell when you've reached them or alienated them. It's chemistry. It's psychology. It's animal instinct. You are with the kids, and as long as you want to be the teacher, there's no escape. Don't expect help from the people who have left the classroom, the higher-ups. They're busy going to lunch and thinking higher thoughts. It's you and the kids. Find what you love and do it.

And now I'm reading 'About A Boy' by Nick Hornby! I love vacay...

How I Retrived My Passport Without A Hammer To The Head

Ko Tao--

This is a rad little island where youngsters from all corners of the world come to dive, meet, talk, drink, eat, and dance early into the morning. It is a consistant hub of barefoot vagabonds looking to chill out and forget about the pressures of home or even the next stop on the travel itinerary. We've met a number of people from Englang, Ireland, Denmark, Norway, Austria, New Zealand and Australia; and each seems to ask the same question, "what are you doing later on tonight?" in a variety of ways. My answers become increasingly more creative depending on the level of English the person can speak. As much as I love Ko Tao, it is meat-central, and it takes some getting used to, especially with people being so forward while on the booze. I've had some good laughs at their expense. On a similar note--I keep getting chatted up by men over 50...this perplexes and entertains me to no end. I know I'm almost 26, but, come on. They do make great conversationalists in comparison to the young ones, I'll give them that.

Okay, so onto more important details of the week, let me begin by stating that I am an absolute idiot. We rented scooters a couple days ago, and without even second guessing my choice, I left my passport with the sassy little Thai girl who owns the company. What she failed to mention is that all the roads outside the town we are in are basically an off-road dirt biking track and many include inclines of like--70 degrees. I was driving alone and doing pretty well for the first 20 minutes, but then I lost momentum and kind of went off a small cliff...yeah. The bike was flipped over and comehow I managed to plant my feet and remain unscathed. Shockingly, there were only a couple small scratches on the bike, but I was all shook up, so I flagged down a local to help me drive the bike back into town. Naturally, the Thai was irate, and wanted $600 to cover the damage of the scratches. When I refused, we were in an all out battle over my passport. I decided to sleep on it and think of other options, all of which were entirely complicated. The next day we battled some more and I walked away sans-dignity again. In the end, I managed to barter her down to $300 in exchange for my passport but she was getting all sketchy and she wouldnt give my passport up until she had the money in her hand. I of course began to rage on the inside-which I'm sure showed in every inch of my face and she even offered me a hammer to hit her in the head with if she decided to run with the money and my passport into the back of the shop. Eventually, I found a Thai person from my hostel to do the exchange for me and I am happily holding my passport in my undies at all times, and thinking of all the other things I could have done with $300. Ce la vie.
Other than that, I went diving one day and pretty well decided to move to Ko Tao and become a mermaid...I've never seen more beautiful sights in my life, and I am not just referring to the ocean--the dive master was a total babe and had me tongue tied all day. Way to go, Crimmins. I could have cried when I saw this dark sea plant (maybe a plankton?) that had glowing neon lights all over the inside, I just wanted to crawl into it and have a onsie-dance party for the rest of my life!

We've also been on a Ko Tao 'Bloody Mary' search, wherein each day we try a new Bloody Mary (because Ceasars only exist in Canada), and even instruct bars how to make them for us if they are not on the menu! The best one yet is at this seaside patio called King Crab-it was almost the real deal and was paired nicely with a BBQed Blue Marlin kabob and potatoe. We celebrated Australia Day at this Aussie pub in town and danced our faces off with the most beautiful people with the worst accents. I put my personal distate for the Aussie accent aside and even posted their flag via temporary tattoo on my face.

Other than that, we've jumped on the European "football" train and I am avidly cheering for Blackpool at every game. It is my favourite place in England afterall, and when I inform the English of this fact, they all puke in their mouths a little and turn away desperately looking for a distraction.

Tomorrow we head to Ko Samui so tonight we are going to watch the fireshows on the beach and dance until we wanna die.

exes and ohs,
Mich

The City That Never Sleeps But Wants to Sleep With You.

Hello from Thailand-this place was built for criminals. But before I go throwing around discriminatory slander, I'll explain...
If you go to Bangkok, please note that Bangkok for four days is too much sleaze even for the best of us. I still really love the city itself, and the people are really happy and relaxed; however, we stayed on Koh San road and did everything on Koh San road, and that road is designed to attract all kinds of slimeballs-which was entertaining for two nights, but then it got old. The first night we managed to get into two fights with other foreigners and danced for free cigarellos. Word of advice-if you see a funny looking french guy who looks like puss in boots and you want to capture a photo of him without his permission, he will try to punch you in the face and steal your camera. Luckily, if you are on Koh San road, there will be older men who will jump in there and protect you and then buy you drinks. However, once you realize what the older men are actually after, you will have to flee quickly. At this point, if you happen to play a friendly game of pool with some nice boys from England, they might proceed to get really angry with you when you tell them you teach english in China. They will be appalled and tell you that you can't teach english because you don't speak the queen's english and they will proceed to tell you that all canadians are rum drinking indians. Then you and your friends will flip a few birds, spill a drink, and slink out into the sleazy Bangkok air. If you visit Bangkok-do go to the Mai Tai boxing match, but do not pay full price for seated tickets outside the ring, the place will be empty and you could have paid a quarter of the price for the same seats. If you go to Bangkok, do go see the Red Shirts protest, but make sure you wear red, otherwise people will not want you there. If you go to Bangkok, skip the pingpong show. It is shocking and sad and is much cheaper to hear someone's account of what really goes on with those crazy pingpongs and goodnessknowswhatelse being shot out of a young woman's privates. I can't even write in here what I saw or how I felt, just trust that I had a lump in my throat the whole time.
In short, Bangkok was much crazier than I anticipated and I'm not even sure what to suggest as the most important travel tip for Bangkok outside of "get a fanny pack while you are on Koh San road." You just have to see it to believe it-that place is the wildest place on earth. Holy moly. I'm still shell-shocked.
Time to scoot, tomorrow's entry is entitled: "When you are warned not to do something and you do it anyway-you should be shot: or, How I paid too much money to retrieve my passport."

exes and ohs
Mich

From Bangkok to Calgary

I have arrived safely in Bangkok for my one-month vacation. I have been here less than 24 hours and I am madly in lust with this city. It's January and 30 degrees during the day, everything is lush green and tacky gold. Thai people smile more than clowns and speak better English than the Chinese. I haven't put a single thing in my mouth that didn't taste like a thousand flavours kidnapping my 'buds in the middle of the night. I love this city. What really relaxes me are the people; all around me is a nonstop flow of eclectic hippies and travelors who look like they just woke up from the most dangerous Full Moon party. My synapses are firing at a dealthy rate. I know I sound like I'm on ecstacy, but I assure you I am as clean as a toot.
Today we hit Koh San Rd and the weekend market and purchased beachwears and lazy thrifts (I basically packed nothing in expectation for this shopping day). I also love that Chinese goods are sickeningly cheap, but Thai goods are half the Chinese prices, so I haggle for nothing. We enjoyed Thai foot massages and fresh fruit before hitting the Tiger beer. I want for not. Our hostel is bright, clean and trendy, I can't wait to come back to the Nap Park Hostel on our way back through mid-February. I can't wait to eat pad tai and pork skewers with peanut sauce at eleven 'o clock tonight! I really can't wait to get to Ko Tao Island and wear my new shirt that reminds me of Chad and says, "Ride That Shit," or my "Same Same" tank top that I know Sherah would love. I'm just crazed for this life!
Also, in preparation for my ever-impending future as a wandering career woman, I have also researched the Canadian International School of Bangkok. Wow wow wee wow...something to think about for 2012-2013 school-year! It would be the best place to teach, really: year-round weather greatness, cheap flights all over Asia, a flow of foreigners, cute clothes, adorable Thai co-workers, cheap beer, and tuk tuks.
So--who wants to get their ED degree and come with me? I can promise you a tan and some dancing, but beyond that I probably have nothing to offer you.
Keep life simple.

One that note, I need some watermelon and a nap.
Missin' you, and you, and you.
xox

Helen's thoughts

Today is exam day, which means tonight is marking night. For the written portion of the exam, my lil' gangstas had to write me a letter requesting that I give them 100% in the course. This was Helen's:

"Dear Teacher,
I'm Helen, your good student. I think you are a sexy woman. You always dressed up fashionable and thin. Even you have nose ring. You always laugh and give us fun talks, test, and task. Your music is funny. I like you. You powered my heart and my Itouch.
I always try my best to talk to you. And answered your questions in the lesson. You ask too many questions you know? It so good! I help you explain to other classmates. I finished my every task carefully. I just like to hit you to express close but you do not accept my poking the rib. If you give me high mark, I didn't too pride. I'm hard, so you can let me mark higher than Mary is okay. I'm sorry about I have many wrong place in this letter. Thank-you teacher.
Your lovely student,
Helen"

This letter is going on my fridge when I return to Canada, I don't care what my Mum says.

xox