Jay from Head Office came to observe my teaching today. Things did not go at all well, for a few reasons.
The first was that Jay surprised me by telling me, beforehand, that he wasn't going to stay for the whole lesson. Okay, I could understand that--it is New Year's, after all--but it threw me for a loop, largely because he would only stay for the Review portion of the lesson. And I didn't really have one. The class he observed is on the first unit of a new level. I had not planned on much review. So what I did, ad hoc, was very bad. I had not properly thought of how to present or practice the review language I cobbled together on a moment's notice.
Ithink this is pretty much the end of things for me at Shane. The thing is, I don't really much care for the way we do children's lessons. They're very drill-oriented and don't teach very much, or very quickly. At best, they get kids able to answer questions in a very mechanical way that doesn't bear much resemblance to how people actually use English in real life.
The other issue I have is that I don't get much leeway to adapt material to the needs of my actual students. The worst case of this came when I was still in the Taoyuan branch, and I had to spend three lessons--six hours--doing things that taught my two charges not much more than the difference between an escalator and an elevator. That was the only part of the lesson my kids didn't know. But I wasn' t really free to move on.
Never, in all the times I've studies languages, has the class had to be as much of a production as children's bushiban classes are. We learned the words for escalator and elevator, for instance, when I took French in high school--l'ascenseur (elevator) and l'escalier (escalator). But it never took anything like the amount of time I am expected to spend on the simplest vocabulary with bushiban kids. My French teachers would have been horrified at the idea of spending ten to fifteen minutes, in three separate classes, chanting sentences like, "I took the wrong escalator." Or of treating all language as though it could be broken down into simple question-and-answer pairs. Practice was in the form of real conversations, not repetitious drills.
You can dress up a drill as a "game" a number of ways--hit the flash card with a big plastic hammer, have kids race to build a tower of blocks after repetition, and so on. But it's still, ultimately, a drill. And the time it takes is not, in my opinion, very conducive to getting language across.
I want to be a real language teacher--the kind of language teacher I had in high school and, a couple of times, in college. It frankly sickens me, for instance, that after two months of two-hour classes three times a week, my very-beginner class of kids in Taoyuan did not know personal pronouns. At the end of this period, kids were still giving me sentences like, "No, it's handsome" (referring to a man in a picture) or "he's small" (referring to a picture of an inanimate object).
Every time I've taken a language, the personal pronouns were the first thing taught on the first day. Or damned close to it. Maybe they got presented in class once. But generally, you l earned them by taking them home and learning them for a test. You kept knowing them because you had no choice but to keep knowing them.
To me, learning language means learning meaning. It means learning real grammar--you know, spending some time figuring out how the past perfect differs from the present perfect. And that involved some explanation that couldn't be accomplished with a sticky ball and a big plastic hammer.
31 December 2007
30 December 2007
The Wheel of Possibility, However It May Roll
Sometimes, I find myself missing '90s music. I should qualify that a bit. I really don't have an extensive knowledge of my generation's music--just a little bit from a brief period in 1998 and 1999 when I became suddenly and inexplicably fascinated with Top 40 radio hits. Every Saturday, I would come back from breakfast in Main Building of boarding school and flip on Casey Kasem to find out whether my favorite songs had risen or fallen in the week's rankings.
I remember being particularly fond of a song by a group called Fastball, called "Drunk Behind the Wheel." No, this was not a depressing song about someone dying in a car crash due to a drunk driver. It was a fairly typical plaintive song about long gone wrong. But I liked it, for some reason.
I still remember the opening lyrics: "Sometimes I feel / Like I am drunk behind the wheel / The wheel of possibility / However it may roll." I was never exactly sure what this meant, but I took it to mean that he was giddy with life's possibilities.
These days, I find myself feeling that way, a little bit. It's amazing what taking your life off to a foreign country can do to you. When I was in New York, I often felt trapped within the confines of the Five Boroughs. I wasn't making much money, even when I was working, and even a day trip to Boston or Philadelphia seemed beyond my means. I had recurring fantasies about relocating to Philly, but it always seemed a little like an impossible dream. Finding a job in New York, where I knew a few people, was hard enough. How hard would it be in a city--even a city only 100 miles away--where I knew no one?
Those fantasies of Philadelphia have been coming back lately, with a vengeance. I actually spent a bit of time this weekend looking at housing ads in Philly to see what rents and home prices are. As someone used to the craziness of the New York real estate market, I was shocked. I knew Philadelphia would be cheaper, but I had no idea how much cheaper.
A few comparisons:
In New York City, $200,000 gets you maybe a shoebox studio on the ground floor, in a bad neighborhood. That is, unless you're willing to go out to Far Rockaway--it's called Far Rockaway for a reason--or into Bronx.
In Philadelphia, less money than that will get you a genuine one-bedroom in nice, central parts of the city. If you go only a little further out, into University City (the area around Penn), the same money gets you several bedrooms. And University City is fairly gentrified, from what I hear.
I'm starting to look into master's programs in teaching ESL at Penn and Temple. For the first time, Philadelphia seems like something I could actually find a way to make happen, not just a pipe dream.
I remember being particularly fond of a song by a group called Fastball, called "Drunk Behind the Wheel." No, this was not a depressing song about someone dying in a car crash due to a drunk driver. It was a fairly typical plaintive song about long gone wrong. But I liked it, for some reason.
I still remember the opening lyrics: "Sometimes I feel / Like I am drunk behind the wheel / The wheel of possibility / However it may roll." I was never exactly sure what this meant, but I took it to mean that he was giddy with life's possibilities.
These days, I find myself feeling that way, a little bit. It's amazing what taking your life off to a foreign country can do to you. When I was in New York, I often felt trapped within the confines of the Five Boroughs. I wasn't making much money, even when I was working, and even a day trip to Boston or Philadelphia seemed beyond my means. I had recurring fantasies about relocating to Philly, but it always seemed a little like an impossible dream. Finding a job in New York, where I knew a few people, was hard enough. How hard would it be in a city--even a city only 100 miles away--where I knew no one?
Those fantasies of Philadelphia have been coming back lately, with a vengeance. I actually spent a bit of time this weekend looking at housing ads in Philly to see what rents and home prices are. As someone used to the craziness of the New York real estate market, I was shocked. I knew Philadelphia would be cheaper, but I had no idea how much cheaper.
A few comparisons:
In New York City, $200,000 gets you maybe a shoebox studio on the ground floor, in a bad neighborhood. That is, unless you're willing to go out to Far Rockaway--it's called Far Rockaway for a reason--or into Bronx.
In Philadelphia, less money than that will get you a genuine one-bedroom in nice, central parts of the city. If you go only a little further out, into University City (the area around Penn), the same money gets you several bedrooms. And University City is fairly gentrified, from what I hear.
I'm starting to look into master's programs in teaching ESL at Penn and Temple. For the first time, Philadelphia seems like something I could actually find a way to make happen, not just a pipe dream.
29 December 2007
The East Side of Europe Minyan?
Given the unsettled nature of my relationship with Shane, it's hard not to start contemplating where I might leap if things go south. A few thoughts about this have occurred to me over the past three or four weeks.
The first is to find a position at another school in Taiwan. There are other schools where I would be more settled and have a better time. Kojen, in particular, seems to have a good adult program and I would at least be in places where I would have real colleagues.
But I have also given some thought to leaving Taiwan altogether and finding work somewhere on the globe that interests me more. Nearly anywhere I go, I could find colleagues and an interesting cultural experience. I admit to not having come to Taiwan for the best reasons. I came because, it seemed, the best-paying EFL/ESL jobs were here, in Korea, or in Saudi Arabia.
Well, Saudi Arabia was clearly out of the picture. Even if the Saudi government did not bar Jews from entering the country, I have no interest in going to live on an American compound in the middle of the desert. Since North Korea is currently ratting sabers at South Korea, I felt that wasn't a good scene, either. So Taiwan it was.
The last couple of days, the thought of going to teach in Russia has been on my mind. Russia, unlike Taiwan, is a country I have had a longstanding interest in. Salaries are not high like in Taiwan--I'm told $950 to $1250 a month is about the most you can expect in Russia, though this usually comes with free accomodation--but there is so much more to capture my interest there.
Some pluses and minuses of Russia:
Pluses:
1) Personal interest in the culture. And if I went to Russia, I would make sure it was to Moscow or St. Petersburg, not the Russian equivalent of Taoyuan, which seems to be the Taiwanese equivalent of Pittsburgh.
2) Chance to learn Russian. I took a semester of Russian in college. I wouldn't have done badly had I not fallen behind on homework corrections I wasn't even aware I had to do, and which counted toward my overall grade. Having an instructor whose native language was Italian didn't help, either.
3) Synagogues are more readily available--I'm sure there has to be a good one in Moscow or St. Petersburg--and I could see all kinds of sites of Jewish interest. I almost feel fraudulent, at times, calling this blog the Far East Side Minyan, as my Jewish activity since coming to Taiwan has been all but nonexistent.
4) I would not have to commit myself to a full-year contract, which would make getting back and getting into graduate school easier.
Minuses:
1) Pay is lousy, as mentioned above.
2) In addition to the pay being lousy, Russia is apparently experiencing galloping inflation at the moment. This would necessitate being very frugal and converting whatever money I made back into dollars on a regular basis to wire home.
3) As much as I loved Dr. Zhivago, do I really want to contemplate a winter in St. Petersburg?
4) There is no Russian consulate or embassy in Taiwan. I would certainly have to go back to my country and my kindred and my father's house to apply for positions in Russia and find a school that would send me an "invitation," which would take at least a month to reach me by post.
The first is to find a position at another school in Taiwan. There are other schools where I would be more settled and have a better time. Kojen, in particular, seems to have a good adult program and I would at least be in places where I would have real colleagues.
But I have also given some thought to leaving Taiwan altogether and finding work somewhere on the globe that interests me more. Nearly anywhere I go, I could find colleagues and an interesting cultural experience. I admit to not having come to Taiwan for the best reasons. I came because, it seemed, the best-paying EFL/ESL jobs were here, in Korea, or in Saudi Arabia.
Well, Saudi Arabia was clearly out of the picture. Even if the Saudi government did not bar Jews from entering the country, I have no interest in going to live on an American compound in the middle of the desert. Since North Korea is currently ratting sabers at South Korea, I felt that wasn't a good scene, either. So Taiwan it was.
The last couple of days, the thought of going to teach in Russia has been on my mind. Russia, unlike Taiwan, is a country I have had a longstanding interest in. Salaries are not high like in Taiwan--I'm told $950 to $1250 a month is about the most you can expect in Russia, though this usually comes with free accomodation--but there is so much more to capture my interest there.
Some pluses and minuses of Russia:
Pluses:
1) Personal interest in the culture. And if I went to Russia, I would make sure it was to Moscow or St. Petersburg, not the Russian equivalent of Taoyuan, which seems to be the Taiwanese equivalent of Pittsburgh.
2) Chance to learn Russian. I took a semester of Russian in college. I wouldn't have done badly had I not fallen behind on homework corrections I wasn't even aware I had to do, and which counted toward my overall grade. Having an instructor whose native language was Italian didn't help, either.
3) Synagogues are more readily available--I'm sure there has to be a good one in Moscow or St. Petersburg--and I could see all kinds of sites of Jewish interest. I almost feel fraudulent, at times, calling this blog the Far East Side Minyan, as my Jewish activity since coming to Taiwan has been all but nonexistent.
4) I would not have to commit myself to a full-year contract, which would make getting back and getting into graduate school easier.
Minuses:
1) Pay is lousy, as mentioned above.
2) In addition to the pay being lousy, Russia is apparently experiencing galloping inflation at the moment. This would necessitate being very frugal and converting whatever money I made back into dollars on a regular basis to wire home.
3) As much as I loved Dr. Zhivago, do I really want to contemplate a winter in St. Petersburg?
4) There is no Russian consulate or embassy in Taiwan. I would certainly have to go back to my country and my kindred and my father's house to apply for positions in Russia and find a school that would send me an "invitation," which would take at least a month to reach me by post.
28 December 2007
It Must Be Sweden
I dragged myself out of bed comparatively late this morning. My first alarm went off at 7:45, but I set it for 8:30 and went back to sleep. At that point, I got up and took a look at the notes in Shane's procedure manual about being "on standby" (meaning, being forced to be available to come in if another teacher calls in sick). The rules said not to call before 9:35. So I went back to sleep again until it was relatively close to that, then got up and called in from the payphone across the street as my cell phone balance is depleted and I had no idea how to refill it until today.
When I called in, I was told to report to a school Taipei for two classes: a kindergarten class in the afternoon, followed by a children's class. I was to be at the school by noon, as the kindergarten class started at 2:00.
I really have no idea why I was called in to teach this kindergarten class. Had the manager looked at the schedule for the class for half a second, she could have realized that there was not a single thing to be done that a Chinese teacher could not have handled adequately. Apparently, on Friday afternoons this class has songs for half an hour--somethng we did with the class next door--and plays with toys brought from home before having their snack and a brief Chinese lesson.
Yesterday and today, my kindergarten classes were remarkably docile compared to the "class from hell" I've taught at another branch. It still doesn't make me want to teach kindergarten, but I've realized it isn't always as hellacious an experience as I had at first thought.
My second class today was much more interesting. This was a CE22 class--Shane elemenentary (CE) classes go as high as CE27--and was quite advanced. In fact, classes at this level are so advance that there really isn't an appropriate book for them. The book we use at this level, American Wow, is really meant for junior high or possibly even high school kids. It's hard to adapt the book to the kind of activities we do with little kids.
Luckily, these kids were also amazingly docile. And it really was amazing to hear Chinese kids this age using the first conditional perfectly, every time. We played a few different games: one where they had to make first conditional sentences with varying vocabulary based on a roll of the dice, and another where the students had to guess countries based on clues and answer with the words "it must be," which is part of their current target language. I let the kids pick the countries in teams beforehand, to make the game a little more interesting for them.
Their clues were often very clipped ("The country' s name begins with an S....oh, it must be Sweden"), and I quickly had to disallow any references to Chinese words after one student said something like, "its Chinese name has three words"). But they did amazingly well.
In some ways, I hate lessons like these because I don't feel they really reach very much new language. But I did at least manage to concept-check (the twenty-dollar word for "make sure they understand the meaning of") the first conditional and a few odd words like usual, polite, impolite, etc. i just kind of wish I could have done more.
But I've found I really like having an office of other teachers I can seek advice and support from. One of the teachers today, for instance, gave me a great activity to do with reading. At this level, the kids have readers (usually shortened and sometimes bowdlerized versions of English-language classics--in this case, Dracula) that we do group readings from. One of my teachers suggested setting up the reading as a game in which, ever time you shouted out a number, some students had to come up to the board and write the last word we had read. This activity helps keep the students paying attention to where we are and not nod off during reading, which can be a problem.
I will probably recycle this activity next week, when Jay from Head Office comes to observe a cover lesson I'm giving at a different school. That observation, though not "official" (meaning that it won't count toward my quota of observations should I be placed elsewhere) will likely have a big effect on whether I stay with Shane, or possibly even in Taiwan, long-term. So I am going to pull out all the stops for it. At least this is one I know I can pull.
When I called in, I was told to report to a school Taipei for two classes: a kindergarten class in the afternoon, followed by a children's class. I was to be at the school by noon, as the kindergarten class started at 2:00.
I really have no idea why I was called in to teach this kindergarten class. Had the manager looked at the schedule for the class for half a second, she could have realized that there was not a single thing to be done that a Chinese teacher could not have handled adequately. Apparently, on Friday afternoons this class has songs for half an hour--somethng we did with the class next door--and plays with toys brought from home before having their snack and a brief Chinese lesson.
Yesterday and today, my kindergarten classes were remarkably docile compared to the "class from hell" I've taught at another branch. It still doesn't make me want to teach kindergarten, but I've realized it isn't always as hellacious an experience as I had at first thought.
My second class today was much more interesting. This was a CE22 class--Shane elemenentary (CE) classes go as high as CE27--and was quite advanced. In fact, classes at this level are so advance that there really isn't an appropriate book for them. The book we use at this level, American Wow, is really meant for junior high or possibly even high school kids. It's hard to adapt the book to the kind of activities we do with little kids.
Luckily, these kids were also amazingly docile. And it really was amazing to hear Chinese kids this age using the first conditional perfectly, every time. We played a few different games: one where they had to make first conditional sentences with varying vocabulary based on a roll of the dice, and another where the students had to guess countries based on clues and answer with the words "it must be," which is part of their current target language. I let the kids pick the countries in teams beforehand, to make the game a little more interesting for them.
Their clues were often very clipped ("The country' s name begins with an S....oh, it must be Sweden"), and I quickly had to disallow any references to Chinese words after one student said something like, "its Chinese name has three words"). But they did amazingly well.
In some ways, I hate lessons like these because I don't feel they really reach very much new language. But I did at least manage to concept-check (the twenty-dollar word for "make sure they understand the meaning of") the first conditional and a few odd words like usual, polite, impolite, etc. i just kind of wish I could have done more.
But I've found I really like having an office of other teachers I can seek advice and support from. One of the teachers today, for instance, gave me a great activity to do with reading. At this level, the kids have readers (usually shortened and sometimes bowdlerized versions of English-language classics--in this case, Dracula) that we do group readings from. One of my teachers suggested setting up the reading as a game in which, ever time you shouted out a number, some students had to come up to the board and write the last word we had read. This activity helps keep the students paying attention to where we are and not nod off during reading, which can be a problem.
I will probably recycle this activity next week, when Jay from Head Office comes to observe a cover lesson I'm giving at a different school. That observation, though not "official" (meaning that it won't count toward my quota of observations should I be placed elsewhere) will likely have a big effect on whether I stay with Shane, or possibly even in Taiwan, long-term. So I am going to pull out all the stops for it. At least this is one I know I can pull.
27 December 2007
I Scramway from Amway
I didn't really have the opportunity to do much of anything special for the Christmas holiday. Even as a Jew, I usually make some effort to do something enjoyable with the day off--not in a religious way, but one might as well enjoy a day off as not. But this year, there really wasn't much to do.
One of my now former students invited me to a party a business associate was involved with. Thus turned out to be some knd of shindig for Amway salesepeople. I was not pleased.
My former student indicated to me that there would be several people who spoke English there, and I would have a good chance of striking up a friendship. He was wrong on both counts. I spoke English with only one person in more than an hour and a half at the party, and the person with whom I spoke tried to recruit me into Amway. I declined with as much politeness and dignity as I could.
The remainder of the evening I spent with my former student (after insisting that we leave), discussing his marital problems and my career problems. He offered me the piece of advice that he thinks I will be a find ESL/EFL teacher, for high school age and above, when I am more experienced. And I don't doubt that. I just need to figure out how to get someplace where I don't spend all of my time doing hammer slap drills for little kids. These couple of days of teaching kindergarten have confirmed for me that I really am not a good teacher for small children. I like teaching better when my students have at least a little bit of experience of the world that I can work with. Children, by definition, have little to none.
By the way, to those of my family who may be reading, I apologize for not calling on Christmas. I didn't have access to an international calling card, and my cell phone minutes have all expired (again) and I have no way of getting new ones.
One of my now former students invited me to a party a business associate was involved with. Thus turned out to be some knd of shindig for Amway salesepeople. I was not pleased.
My former student indicated to me that there would be several people who spoke English there, and I would have a good chance of striking up a friendship. He was wrong on both counts. I spoke English with only one person in more than an hour and a half at the party, and the person with whom I spoke tried to recruit me into Amway. I declined with as much politeness and dignity as I could.
The remainder of the evening I spent with my former student (after insisting that we leave), discussing his marital problems and my career problems. He offered me the piece of advice that he thinks I will be a find ESL/EFL teacher, for high school age and above, when I am more experienced. And I don't doubt that. I just need to figure out how to get someplace where I don't spend all of my time doing hammer slap drills for little kids. These couple of days of teaching kindergarten have confirmed for me that I really am not a good teacher for small children. I like teaching better when my students have at least a little bit of experience of the world that I can work with. Children, by definition, have little to none.
By the way, to those of my family who may be reading, I apologize for not calling on Christmas. I didn't have access to an international calling card, and my cell phone minutes have all expired (again) and I have no way of getting new ones.
26 December 2007
When It Rains, It Pours
When Jay first told me I would be doing cover work in Taipei last week, he gave me a schedule that included no assigned work on Thursday and Friday, but the stipulation that I was to call in on standby these days. Standby, essentially, means that you call in very early in the morning (by the standards of an EFL teacher, anyway) to find out if you will be needed that day to cover for anyone who's sick.
I had no idea whether any work would materialize for these days, but somehow, I have an assignment for tomorrow, teaching kindergarten at a school I've never been to before and am certain to get lost on the way to. And--here's the best part--it starts at 9:00 in the morning. This means I'll need to get there by 8:00 or so to prepare (assuming the school is even open that early--my branch in Taoyuan never was, when I had a 9:30 class twice a week). Which means I'll need to leave home by 6:00 to get there. This, after having worked until 10:00 tonight and not having gotten back to Taoyuan until midnight. It's a miracle I'm hear blogging; I wouldn't be, if I didn't feel an urgent need to check my e-mail and have some semblance of communication with the world beyond this small island.
I have realized these last couple of days that I loathe teaching kindergarten. Loathe, loathe, loathe, loathe, loathe it. Nothing ever made me want to be a kindergarten teacher before, but teaching a class the other teachers at the school call the kindy class from hell has made me really not want to teach kindy. And those classes were only for an hour a piece.
Luckily, from what the teacher I'll be covering said, I don't have to do much.
And so, off to bed.
I had no idea whether any work would materialize for these days, but somehow, I have an assignment for tomorrow, teaching kindergarten at a school I've never been to before and am certain to get lost on the way to. And--here's the best part--it starts at 9:00 in the morning. This means I'll need to get there by 8:00 or so to prepare (assuming the school is even open that early--my branch in Taoyuan never was, when I had a 9:30 class twice a week). Which means I'll need to leave home by 6:00 to get there. This, after having worked until 10:00 tonight and not having gotten back to Taoyuan until midnight. It's a miracle I'm hear blogging; I wouldn't be, if I didn't feel an urgent need to check my e-mail and have some semblance of communication with the world beyond this small island.
I have realized these last couple of days that I loathe teaching kindergarten. Loathe, loathe, loathe, loathe, loathe it. Nothing ever made me want to be a kindergarten teacher before, but teaching a class the other teachers at the school call the kindy class from hell has made me really not want to teach kindy. And those classes were only for an hour a piece.
Luckily, from what the teacher I'll be covering said, I don't have to do much.
And so, off to bed.
25 December 2007
Reading Tea Leaves
Yesterday, I started my stint as a cover teacher in Taipei, which I hope will eventually lead to a more permanent position as a "floating" or "DTE' teacher--in Shane parlance, teachers who work in Taipei for schools that are not franchises but rather directly owned and operated by Shane. I had two classes--a kindergarten class and a 14-year-old private student to whom I had the chance to explain the third conditional ("if you had...I would have", etc).
Oh...and my turn as Santa Claus went about as I expected. My main duty was to draw names out of a box for a raffle and let the winners be photographed sitting on me knee. Most of these kids were really too old for sitting on a grown-up's knee, but I played along.
It's weird being in this sort of limbo state with Shane. The one thing I hate the most about job hunting is the way that it so often forces you to try to read tea leaves. What does this statement mean? Are they interested or giving me the brush-off?
In this case, I think it's clear Shane wants to do the right thing by me, one way or another. But I know this only because my recruiter, Mitch Gordon, has told me so, from conversations he has had with Shane management that they would not have with me. But it's not so clear to me what that means, to their way of thinking.
It's also unclear to me how long they are willing to let this situation go on. I will try not to be impatient--something I've never been especially good at--but this kind of temporary cover situation can't go on forever, and I think both they and I know it. I have to fly out again by January 8th, so I should definitely talk to Jay about this tomorrow when I go back for my second day of cover work. I would be willing to let them have until February to decide, but sooner or later, I need to make other plans and try to cover my bases.
At least in this field, there is no shortage of opportunities. Dave's ESL Cafe, the biggest clearinghouse of ESL-related information on the Web, has no end of jobs available all over the world, with especially large job boards for China and Korea. I see advertisements all the time for Russia and Brazil that are tempting. Wages are not that high in Brazil, and from what I gather, Brazil's visa system is even more convoluted than Taiwan's. Russia does not pay especially well, but the ads I see all mention a large housing allowance on top of the wages, which might make the situation almost as good as Taiwan. And I think I would be more interested in Russia.
We'll see where all of this goes.
Oh...and my turn as Santa Claus went about as I expected. My main duty was to draw names out of a box for a raffle and let the winners be photographed sitting on me knee. Most of these kids were really too old for sitting on a grown-up's knee, but I played along.
It's weird being in this sort of limbo state with Shane. The one thing I hate the most about job hunting is the way that it so often forces you to try to read tea leaves. What does this statement mean? Are they interested or giving me the brush-off?
In this case, I think it's clear Shane wants to do the right thing by me, one way or another. But I know this only because my recruiter, Mitch Gordon, has told me so, from conversations he has had with Shane management that they would not have with me. But it's not so clear to me what that means, to their way of thinking.
It's also unclear to me how long they are willing to let this situation go on. I will try not to be impatient--something I've never been especially good at--but this kind of temporary cover situation can't go on forever, and I think both they and I know it. I have to fly out again by January 8th, so I should definitely talk to Jay about this tomorrow when I go back for my second day of cover work. I would be willing to let them have until February to decide, but sooner or later, I need to make other plans and try to cover my bases.
At least in this field, there is no shortage of opportunities. Dave's ESL Cafe, the biggest clearinghouse of ESL-related information on the Web, has no end of jobs available all over the world, with especially large job boards for China and Korea. I see advertisements all the time for Russia and Brazil that are tempting. Wages are not that high in Brazil, and from what I gather, Brazil's visa system is even more convoluted than Taiwan's. Russia does not pay especially well, but the ads I see all mention a large housing allowance on top of the wages, which might make the situation almost as good as Taiwan. And I think I would be more interested in Russia.
We'll see where all of this goes.
23 December 2007
Please Clue Me In
Okay, in the same vein, things I really need someone to tell me about, since on this side of the Pacific I have no idea what's happening with them:
1) Is Anna Nicole Smith still dead?
2) Which of the new fall shows were any good? Is the WGA strike likely to end? Okay, I could find this one out by looking around a bit on the Net, but I want the recommendations of people I know.
3) Is West Side Judaica still in business, or has it gone under?
4) Are there any new Hollywood power couples I should know about? What word has been made up to describe the hype surrounding them? In other words, who's the new Bennifer, TomKat, or Brangelina?
5) What ridiculous form of self-promotion is Donald Trump currently using?
6) What outrageous thing is Cindy Sheehan saying these days?
7) What outrageous thing is David Klinghoffer saying these days? Is he still a shill for the Discovery Institute?
8) How much negative equity is there, exactly, in the City of New York these days? How many people on the Upper East and Upper West Sides now owe more than they can ever hope to repay?
9) Can you still rent a one-bedroom in Philadelphia for $700 a month?
10) What stupid excuse for a protest is currently in vogue at Columbia?
11) Who's the current Missing Pretty Girl in heavy rotation on CNN?
12) What's the stock market doing? What are the wonks saying about the housing "correction"?
1) Is Anna Nicole Smith still dead?
2) Which of the new fall shows were any good? Is the WGA strike likely to end? Okay, I could find this one out by looking around a bit on the Net, but I want the recommendations of people I know.
3) Is West Side Judaica still in business, or has it gone under?
4) Are there any new Hollywood power couples I should know about? What word has been made up to describe the hype surrounding them? In other words, who's the new Bennifer, TomKat, or Brangelina?
5) What ridiculous form of self-promotion is Donald Trump currently using?
6) What outrageous thing is Cindy Sheehan saying these days?
7) What outrageous thing is David Klinghoffer saying these days? Is he still a shill for the Discovery Institute?
8) How much negative equity is there, exactly, in the City of New York these days? How many people on the Upper East and Upper West Sides now owe more than they can ever hope to repay?
9) Can you still rent a one-bedroom in Philadelphia for $700 a month?
10) What stupid excuse for a protest is currently in vogue at Columbia?
11) Who's the current Missing Pretty Girl in heavy rotation on CNN?
12) What's the stock market doing? What are the wonks saying about the housing "correction"?
What I Don't Miss at All
To be fair to my native country, and to the one in which I presently find myself, a list of things I do not miss from America at all:
1) Real estate fever and obsession. I can't tell you how many people I met in New York who were living two hours, three hours from work just so that they could build equity. What a waste of time and sanity.
2) Hearing anything about Britney Spears or Paris Hilton. But somebody please tell me--what are Brad and Angelina up to these days?
3) Corporate culture. Even my tussles with Eve and Ruby are not nearly as bad as what I dealt with being a corporate paralegal at Mayer Brown. Shane has not so far shown itself to have much of a corporate culture. Or if it has one, I'm very removed from it. I will never go back to the corporate world, period.
4) SUVs and minivans. The Taiwanese seem to have a saner approach to car buying, because gas is more expensive and there's hardly anywhere to park.
5) Traffic lights with no warning about how much time you have to finish crossing the street. If Taiwan can have count-down lights, why can't we have them Stateside? An inquiring mind wants to know.
6) Dr. Pepper. Used to love it. I've adjusted to drinking mostly milk tea, black tea, or Coca-Cola. Don't think I'll go back to it when I go home, whenever that may be.
7) People telling you inappropriately personal things. Here's a clue, people: if I don't know you very well, I don't care about your recent gall bladder operation, the second hole at the end of your dick, or your feelings about your gender identity.
8) Going out to Gravesend to see my friend David. No offense, David--I miss you very much. What I do not miss is the elevated subway stops in outer Brooklyn, or the general griminess of the area.
9) Not getting to see friends in the Bronx or more distant parts of New York, because of subway issues. The couple of friends I've made here so far are pretty local.
10) Planning my life around weekend subway madness.
11) Being treated as if I had moved to Mars because my idea of where to find a place to live didn't end at the East River.
12) The words "flyover country," "red state," and "blue state."
13) New York grime in general. Taiwan has a bit of grime from pollution, smoke, and the like, but you don't see trash everywhere.
14) Constantly being bombarded with images of how the upper 1/3 of one percent of the population lives. It's amazing how freeing it is to be away from American television. You stop thinking you're the only person out there who doesn't need a 50" Plasma TV right this minute.
15) New York magazine--or, as I prefer to think of it, Snotty Upper East Side, Upper West Side, Tribeca, and Certain Trendy Parts of Brooklyn that You Don't Live In Magazine.
16) Paying $20 for mediocre meals out.
17) Paying $20 for a movie, a tub of popcorn, and a Coke.
18) Hearing about all the latest electronic gizmos and gadgets. Some day, I aspire to having TiVO or similar. I don't give a flying leap about the iPhone, however, and don't need to hear about Yuppie toys.
19) Yuppies in general. I don't think the concept quite exists here. There are rich people, to be sure. But Yuppies as they exist in America, no. People do not seem to be obsessed with exposed brick, lattes, wine racks, Details magazine, or arugula.
20) People stopping at the entrance to the subway to make phone calls. What is it about Americans that makes them not know how to behave properly in crowded situations? I have never seen Taiwanese people in crowds act the way Americans in general, and New Yorkers in particular, act--with total cluelessness that there are other people around them.
21) Debates about the N-word.
1) Real estate fever and obsession. I can't tell you how many people I met in New York who were living two hours, three hours from work just so that they could build equity. What a waste of time and sanity.
2) Hearing anything about Britney Spears or Paris Hilton. But somebody please tell me--what are Brad and Angelina up to these days?
3) Corporate culture. Even my tussles with Eve and Ruby are not nearly as bad as what I dealt with being a corporate paralegal at Mayer Brown. Shane has not so far shown itself to have much of a corporate culture. Or if it has one, I'm very removed from it. I will never go back to the corporate world, period.
4) SUVs and minivans. The Taiwanese seem to have a saner approach to car buying, because gas is more expensive and there's hardly anywhere to park.
5) Traffic lights with no warning about how much time you have to finish crossing the street. If Taiwan can have count-down lights, why can't we have them Stateside? An inquiring mind wants to know.
6) Dr. Pepper. Used to love it. I've adjusted to drinking mostly milk tea, black tea, or Coca-Cola. Don't think I'll go back to it when I go home, whenever that may be.
7) People telling you inappropriately personal things. Here's a clue, people: if I don't know you very well, I don't care about your recent gall bladder operation, the second hole at the end of your dick, or your feelings about your gender identity.
8) Going out to Gravesend to see my friend David. No offense, David--I miss you very much. What I do not miss is the elevated subway stops in outer Brooklyn, or the general griminess of the area.
9) Not getting to see friends in the Bronx or more distant parts of New York, because of subway issues. The couple of friends I've made here so far are pretty local.
10) Planning my life around weekend subway madness.
11) Being treated as if I had moved to Mars because my idea of where to find a place to live didn't end at the East River.
12) The words "flyover country," "red state," and "blue state."
13) New York grime in general. Taiwan has a bit of grime from pollution, smoke, and the like, but you don't see trash everywhere.
14) Constantly being bombarded with images of how the upper 1/3 of one percent of the population lives. It's amazing how freeing it is to be away from American television. You stop thinking you're the only person out there who doesn't need a 50" Plasma TV right this minute.
15) New York magazine--or, as I prefer to think of it, Snotty Upper East Side, Upper West Side, Tribeca, and Certain Trendy Parts of Brooklyn that You Don't Live In Magazine.
16) Paying $20 for mediocre meals out.
17) Paying $20 for a movie, a tub of popcorn, and a Coke.
18) Hearing about all the latest electronic gizmos and gadgets. Some day, I aspire to having TiVO or similar. I don't give a flying leap about the iPhone, however, and don't need to hear about Yuppie toys.
19) Yuppies in general. I don't think the concept quite exists here. There are rich people, to be sure. But Yuppies as they exist in America, no. People do not seem to be obsessed with exposed brick, lattes, wine racks, Details magazine, or arugula.
20) People stopping at the entrance to the subway to make phone calls. What is it about Americans that makes them not know how to behave properly in crowded situations? I have never seen Taiwanese people in crowds act the way Americans in general, and New Yorkers in particular, act--with total cluelessness that there are other people around them.
21) Debates about the N-word.
What I Miss Most
Culture shock has set in. Scratch that. Culture shock set in about day one of my time in Taiwan. But lately, homesickness has definitely been creeping up on me.
I know this is normal. Experts say that culture shock becomes most acute after being in a country for about two months and generally gets better in month three and beyond. But given the shake-up at Shane, I am really starting to miss the United States. By this, I don't really mean my old home in the United States. I am unable to miss an apartment in Brooklyn an hour from anywhere I wanted to be, that made it impossible for me to be anywhere later than midnight, and where I preferred not to walk around at 2:00 in the morning.
No, I am missing the kind of middle American life I thought I had left behind forever when I moved to New York. Looking through American Hotline for my class with Mickey this week, I started to wax nostalgic about the kind of typical American teen life "Jefferson Road" seeks to show: the mall, the local burger joint, the quiet houses on what I can only guess is a suburban cul-de-sac.
Here are the things I miss most (I will discuss people I miss most another time--I am not presuming to put missing people in the same category as missing things), in no particular order:
1) Having books Amazoned to me. I miss being able to get a hold of just about any English-language book in existence, for relatively little money. I looked into ordering Amazon books to be shipped to Taiwan, and the charge for shipping was $4.99 per book plus $4.99 per pound. No thank you. I'll make due with what I can find at Page One in Taipei. And put off reading A World Lit Only by Fire and various books about slavery in the Old South until I get home.
2) Netflix. Similar fixation to missing Amazon. I miss being able to get Mildred Pierce or Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion sent through the mail to me. Man, I have a craving to see All That Heaven Allows right now.
3) Not being asked to give the "American point of view" on things, as if there is such a thing. Admittedly, this hasn't happened more than a couple of times since I've been here. But I find myself ill-equipped to represent 300 million of my fellow countrymen, even if I wanted to.
4) Tuna melts with really good cheddar cheese.
5) Cheese in general, and Murray' s Cheese Shop in the Village in general. I suppose the latter I will miss permanently, as my post-Taiwan plans will probably not involve going back to the world's (or at least America's) most expensive city to face an impossible job market.
6) Ugly Betty. I have so got to get the first season on DVD when I get back to the States. By then, maybe the second season will have been released.
7) Spaghetti without a fried egg. I have spaghetti regularly at the local internet cafe where I blog, but it always comes with a fried egg on top. This is a Taiwanese culinary peculiarity I have never gotten used to. I don't really understand the obsession with fried eggs and expect I never will.
8) Chocolate malteds.
9) Black-and-white musicals with Astaire and Rogers, Mickey and Judy, or similar.
10) Shower heads that don't attach to your sink. I'm actually not sure if this is a Taiwanese pecularity, or some kind of class thing, but the few apartments I've been in in Taiwan (my own, Ruby's, and that belonging to my friend Charles) all have showers as attachments to the sink.
11) Desperate Housewives. Sunday nights just aren't the same without Bree, Lynette, and Gabby. Susan I can take or leave.
12) Books about slavery and Jim Crow. I have an interest in the topic--always have, always will. Not an interest I can do much about on this side of the Pacific.
13) Comfortable mattresses. My mattress is as hard as a rock, and there's nothing I can do about it right now. What I find myself missing most about my apartment in Clinton Hill was the dream mattress my grandmother and parents gave me as a housewarming gift, that I had to chuck in order to come here.
Activities I miss from the States include, but are not limited, to:
1) Shabbat morning minyan. Mostly for social reasons. Getting to find out what Nos and Iris Sher are up to, whether Arye Barkai is in good health, how Avi Mowshowitz is enjoying his research work. Getting the advice and support of the people I knew there, whether the question is where to buy a red hat for my mom or how to handle legal wrangling with the landlord.
2) Walking through Park Slope on a Sunday afternoon, taking in all the pretty things in the windows on Seventh Avenue, before settling down for a coffee at the Park Slope Barnes & Noble.
3) Long telephone conversations with my grandmother in Missouri, even if nothing particularly noteworthy is said by either of us.
4) Not having to choose places to eat based on my ability to get what I want by pointing or directly taking it from a buffet.
5) Checking out DVDs at Barnes & Noble or Best Buy.
6) Seeing movies. I have yet to make it to a movie in Taiwan. Partly this is because movies don't get released in Taiwan until a good 2-3 months after their release in America, so that I've seen what's currently out in Taiwan that I would have any interest in seeing.
7) Discussing New York-related things with friends, like the Atlantic Yards project or the state of the subways. I do not, however, miss New York real estate conversations one bit. I don't care who might have gotten a better deal on an apartment than I did.
I know this is normal. Experts say that culture shock becomes most acute after being in a country for about two months and generally gets better in month three and beyond. But given the shake-up at Shane, I am really starting to miss the United States. By this, I don't really mean my old home in the United States. I am unable to miss an apartment in Brooklyn an hour from anywhere I wanted to be, that made it impossible for me to be anywhere later than midnight, and where I preferred not to walk around at 2:00 in the morning.
No, I am missing the kind of middle American life I thought I had left behind forever when I moved to New York. Looking through American Hotline for my class with Mickey this week, I started to wax nostalgic about the kind of typical American teen life "Jefferson Road" seeks to show: the mall, the local burger joint, the quiet houses on what I can only guess is a suburban cul-de-sac.
Here are the things I miss most (I will discuss people I miss most another time--I am not presuming to put missing people in the same category as missing things), in no particular order:
1) Having books Amazoned to me. I miss being able to get a hold of just about any English-language book in existence, for relatively little money. I looked into ordering Amazon books to be shipped to Taiwan, and the charge for shipping was $4.99 per book plus $4.99 per pound. No thank you. I'll make due with what I can find at Page One in Taipei. And put off reading A World Lit Only by Fire and various books about slavery in the Old South until I get home.
2) Netflix. Similar fixation to missing Amazon. I miss being able to get Mildred Pierce or Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion sent through the mail to me. Man, I have a craving to see All That Heaven Allows right now.
3) Not being asked to give the "American point of view" on things, as if there is such a thing. Admittedly, this hasn't happened more than a couple of times since I've been here. But I find myself ill-equipped to represent 300 million of my fellow countrymen, even if I wanted to.
4) Tuna melts with really good cheddar cheese.
5) Cheese in general, and Murray' s Cheese Shop in the Village in general. I suppose the latter I will miss permanently, as my post-Taiwan plans will probably not involve going back to the world's (or at least America's) most expensive city to face an impossible job market.
6) Ugly Betty. I have so got to get the first season on DVD when I get back to the States. By then, maybe the second season will have been released.
7) Spaghetti without a fried egg. I have spaghetti regularly at the local internet cafe where I blog, but it always comes with a fried egg on top. This is a Taiwanese culinary peculiarity I have never gotten used to. I don't really understand the obsession with fried eggs and expect I never will.
8) Chocolate malteds.
9) Black-and-white musicals with Astaire and Rogers, Mickey and Judy, or similar.
10) Shower heads that don't attach to your sink. I'm actually not sure if this is a Taiwanese pecularity, or some kind of class thing, but the few apartments I've been in in Taiwan (my own, Ruby's, and that belonging to my friend Charles) all have showers as attachments to the sink.
11) Desperate Housewives. Sunday nights just aren't the same without Bree, Lynette, and Gabby. Susan I can take or leave.
12) Books about slavery and Jim Crow. I have an interest in the topic--always have, always will. Not an interest I can do much about on this side of the Pacific.
13) Comfortable mattresses. My mattress is as hard as a rock, and there's nothing I can do about it right now. What I find myself missing most about my apartment in Clinton Hill was the dream mattress my grandmother and parents gave me as a housewarming gift, that I had to chuck in order to come here.
Activities I miss from the States include, but are not limited, to:
1) Shabbat morning minyan. Mostly for social reasons. Getting to find out what Nos and Iris Sher are up to, whether Arye Barkai is in good health, how Avi Mowshowitz is enjoying his research work. Getting the advice and support of the people I knew there, whether the question is where to buy a red hat for my mom or how to handle legal wrangling with the landlord.
2) Walking through Park Slope on a Sunday afternoon, taking in all the pretty things in the windows on Seventh Avenue, before settling down for a coffee at the Park Slope Barnes & Noble.
3) Long telephone conversations with my grandmother in Missouri, even if nothing particularly noteworthy is said by either of us.
4) Not having to choose places to eat based on my ability to get what I want by pointing or directly taking it from a buffet.
5) Checking out DVDs at Barnes & Noble or Best Buy.
6) Seeing movies. I have yet to make it to a movie in Taiwan. Partly this is because movies don't get released in Taiwan until a good 2-3 months after their release in America, so that I've seen what's currently out in Taiwan that I would have any interest in seeing.
7) Discussing New York-related things with friends, like the Atlantic Yards project or the state of the subways. I do not, however, miss New York real estate conversations one bit. I don't care who might have gotten a better deal on an apartment than I did.
22 December 2007
A Land Where There Are Still Negroes
I confess to not knowin much about Brad Pitt. Somehow, despite the hype surrounding Brangelina, I manage not to care much about the first half of that particular portmanteau. If someone put a gun to my head and asked me to name a movie Brad Pitt had been in, I would probably die.
When it comes to Angelina Jolie, however, I can at least recall her riveting performance in Girl, Interrupted, which I recall seeing with my friend Avi Mowshowitz on one or another of our double feature nights. A great many things about that movie have stuck in my mind, but I remember in particular a scene in which the Winona Ryder tells the African-American nurse that she "ain't no doctor" and asks what she learned at "night school for Negroes."
Ah...Negroes. A word we don't use any more in America. Even old people in the South, from what I understand, don't really use it any more. As a confirmed Yankee, I can imagine that a few diehard Sons of Confederate Veterans types have romantic associations with the word. And of course, it crops up occasionally when the United Negro College Fund reminds us that a mind is a terrible thing to waste. But it's a word most non-black people don't dare use.
I was surprised, then, to hear it roll off the tongue of one of my adult students, Charles, when I went to see him this afternoon. Charles called me last night as I was doing laundry, to find out where my situation with Eve and Ruby currently stands. I told him I had resigned and would have my last day today. I didn't have a lot of time to talk, but told him I would be glad to get together with him and discuss all of it further. And so this afternoon, after taking leave of Ruby and Eve for the last time, I went up to his apartment to chat.
Somehow, after Ruby and Eve, we got around to topics related to America, and he said something--I forget what, nothing particularly disparaging or controversial--about Martin Luther King. And the word Negro came off his tongue.
I explained quickly that this was no longer the preferred term for people of African descent in America and wrote down black and African-American for him. He was rather surprised to learn of this--he says I am the first person to have said something about this. But then, his opportunities to talk with "real Americans" are not many, and I suppose the complexities of American political correctness are as foreign to him as the issue of Taiwanese independence is to me.
My guess is that Charles probably first started learning English at a time when Negro was still an acceptable, or even the preferred, term, and simply never got into a situation where he had to unlearn this early training. I doubt his use of the word is in any way grounded in racism.
I have noticed, though, a certain amount of curiosity about black people among the few Taiwanese I have heard say anything on the subject. One of my now-former students, a 10-year-old girl in one of the higher-level children's classes, remarked on images of black people in a book about New York I brought in as a reader. White people are a rarity in Taiwan; African-American or other black people, I suppose, are even more of a rarity. Some interest is no doubt a reflection of rap music's popularity in Taiwan, which I gather to be about as high as in the West.
When it comes to Angelina Jolie, however, I can at least recall her riveting performance in Girl, Interrupted, which I recall seeing with my friend Avi Mowshowitz on one or another of our double feature nights. A great many things about that movie have stuck in my mind, but I remember in particular a scene in which the Winona Ryder tells the African-American nurse that she "ain't no doctor" and asks what she learned at "night school for Negroes."
Ah...Negroes. A word we don't use any more in America. Even old people in the South, from what I understand, don't really use it any more. As a confirmed Yankee, I can imagine that a few diehard Sons of Confederate Veterans types have romantic associations with the word. And of course, it crops up occasionally when the United Negro College Fund reminds us that a mind is a terrible thing to waste. But it's a word most non-black people don't dare use.
I was surprised, then, to hear it roll off the tongue of one of my adult students, Charles, when I went to see him this afternoon. Charles called me last night as I was doing laundry, to find out where my situation with Eve and Ruby currently stands. I told him I had resigned and would have my last day today. I didn't have a lot of time to talk, but told him I would be glad to get together with him and discuss all of it further. And so this afternoon, after taking leave of Ruby and Eve for the last time, I went up to his apartment to chat.
Somehow, after Ruby and Eve, we got around to topics related to America, and he said something--I forget what, nothing particularly disparaging or controversial--about Martin Luther King. And the word Negro came off his tongue.
I explained quickly that this was no longer the preferred term for people of African descent in America and wrote down black and African-American for him. He was rather surprised to learn of this--he says I am the first person to have said something about this. But then, his opportunities to talk with "real Americans" are not many, and I suppose the complexities of American political correctness are as foreign to him as the issue of Taiwanese independence is to me.
My guess is that Charles probably first started learning English at a time when Negro was still an acceptable, or even the preferred, term, and simply never got into a situation where he had to unlearn this early training. I doubt his use of the word is in any way grounded in racism.
I have noticed, though, a certain amount of curiosity about black people among the few Taiwanese I have heard say anything on the subject. One of my now-former students, a 10-year-old girl in one of the higher-level children's classes, remarked on images of black people in a book about New York I brought in as a reader. White people are a rarity in Taiwan; African-American or other black people, I suppose, are even more of a rarity. Some interest is no doubt a reflection of rap music's popularity in Taiwan, which I gather to be about as high as in the West.
The Glorious Revolution
My last day of work for Mmes. Ruby and Eve was today. It was relatively painless, and they managed to let me leave without any major scenes. A small issue regarding my pay (namely, how the security deposit on my apartment will be handled) was resolved without any major fuss.
They know I will be working in Taipei starting on Monday. I know they know because they gave me advice about how to take the bus into the area where my first assignment is located. Somehow, I am not happy to know that they know. But such it is.
Looking back on my transition out of this particular position at Shane, I am satisfied with how bloodless it has been. Not only do I feel I have conducted myself with flawless professionalism, but the whole thing went off with few histrionics beyond the outrageous demands Eve and Ruby made at the meeting of Tuesday. It is truly has been my own private Glorious Revolution.
I also find myself amazingly unanxious about the future. Either something will work out with Shane, or I will go back to America temporarily until I find another position teaching ESL, someplace else on God's green acre. This is not the end but the beginning.
They know I will be working in Taipei starting on Monday. I know they know because they gave me advice about how to take the bus into the area where my first assignment is located. Somehow, I am not happy to know that they know. But such it is.
Looking back on my transition out of this particular position at Shane, I am satisfied with how bloodless it has been. Not only do I feel I have conducted myself with flawless professionalism, but the whole thing went off with few histrionics beyond the outrageous demands Eve and Ruby made at the meeting of Tuesday. It is truly has been my own private Glorious Revolution.
I also find myself amazingly unanxious about the future. Either something will work out with Shane, or I will go back to America temporarily until I find another position teaching ESL, someplace else on God's green acre. This is not the end but the beginning.
21 December 2007
Jefferson Road
It's hard to believe that, tomorrow at 3:30 (or as soon thereafter as Eve hands me my final pay), I am done with Ruby, Eve, and the branch. I intend to go out singing "Go Tell It on the Mountain," or some similar song of joy and liberation--Mi KaMokha comes to mind---just to make even clearer the point that they can do nothing to me and that I go out of this to better things.
The curious thing is, do to scheduling issues, by the time I leave, I will have had to start teaching two classes this week I was not teaching before. Well, sort of. One was a class of two boys I was supposed to start teaching the day of my most recent visa run, but showed up for half an hour into their lesson time.
The other was a private student named Mickey, a thirteen year-old boy in what we call our "CJ" (roughly, junior high) program.
Last week, I would have started teaching Mickey on Wednesday, but was given insufficient notice of the class having opened (surprise, surprise). I was told that, under the circumstances, I could decline to teach that class, which I did, and the school would attempt to find cover staff. They couldn't find any and ended up having to have the class taught by our Chinese Teaching Assistant, Cecilia. Last Friday and Saturday, I was out sick with a bad cold and so taught neither Mickey (who comes Wednesdays and Fridays in the early evening) nor my Saturday classes.
I sort of feel bad starting something like this. I know there could not have been any perfect timing for my departure, so that I wouldn't be leaving halfway through the term for at least some of my students, but with respect to Mickey and this class I will teach for the first (and only) time tomorrow, the timing really is truly awful. To me, this is another example of how Eve and Ruby mishandle things. In their place, I would have called the families involved and said classes would begin when a new teacher was hired, or similar. But I suppose, given how shaky their finances often seem, that they had no real choice--or at least, no choice that would not have resulted in egg all over their faces.
Mickey's textbook is called American Hotline, and attempts to teach partly through a bad soap opera called, I kid you not, Jefferson Road. I guess this is someone's idea of what a typical American street would be like--though I notice from its cast of characters that the street is more racially and ethnically diverse than probably any American street not located in Jackson Heights, Queens. The "plot," such as it is, revolves around a girl overhearing her new neighbor calling her bossy, and getting her revenge by setting him up on a date with a girl whose boyfriend is one of the local toughs.
The thing I notice most in this textbook is how dated everything is. This is a weird feeling for me, because the period it's dated to is not a far-off time like the '70s or the '30s, but the early '90s. This book has pre-O.J. America stamped all over it, and to make even clearer how dated it is, it used not a CD, but a cassette tape.
Man, how did I get old enough for there to be a period in my life that seems dated?
The curious thing is, do to scheduling issues, by the time I leave, I will have had to start teaching two classes this week I was not teaching before. Well, sort of. One was a class of two boys I was supposed to start teaching the day of my most recent visa run, but showed up for half an hour into their lesson time.
The other was a private student named Mickey, a thirteen year-old boy in what we call our "CJ" (roughly, junior high) program.
Last week, I would have started teaching Mickey on Wednesday, but was given insufficient notice of the class having opened (surprise, surprise). I was told that, under the circumstances, I could decline to teach that class, which I did, and the school would attempt to find cover staff. They couldn't find any and ended up having to have the class taught by our Chinese Teaching Assistant, Cecilia. Last Friday and Saturday, I was out sick with a bad cold and so taught neither Mickey (who comes Wednesdays and Fridays in the early evening) nor my Saturday classes.
I sort of feel bad starting something like this. I know there could not have been any perfect timing for my departure, so that I wouldn't be leaving halfway through the term for at least some of my students, but with respect to Mickey and this class I will teach for the first (and only) time tomorrow, the timing really is truly awful. To me, this is another example of how Eve and Ruby mishandle things. In their place, I would have called the families involved and said classes would begin when a new teacher was hired, or similar. But I suppose, given how shaky their finances often seem, that they had no real choice--or at least, no choice that would not have resulted in egg all over their faces.
Mickey's textbook is called American Hotline, and attempts to teach partly through a bad soap opera called, I kid you not, Jefferson Road. I guess this is someone's idea of what a typical American street would be like--though I notice from its cast of characters that the street is more racially and ethnically diverse than probably any American street not located in Jackson Heights, Queens. The "plot," such as it is, revolves around a girl overhearing her new neighbor calling her bossy, and getting her revenge by setting him up on a date with a girl whose boyfriend is one of the local toughs.
The thing I notice most in this textbook is how dated everything is. This is a weird feeling for me, because the period it's dated to is not a far-off time like the '70s or the '30s, but the early '90s. This book has pre-O.J. America stamped all over it, and to make even clearer how dated it is, it used not a CD, but a cassette tape.
Man, how did I get old enough for there to be a period in my life that seems dated?
Santa Claus is Coming to...Taipei
Since we're on the subject of being forced to wear embarssing clothing...
Shortly after my elementary class this morning, I got another call from Jay, my line manager. He called to tell me that, next Monday, my cover stint will involve dressing up as Santa Claus for an hour and handing out gifts to the kids.
Wow...something I have really, really, really never wanted to do! I half-suspect I was volunteered for this because of my more-than-ample girth, which only makes it worse. What I'm wondering is, how hot are those outfits, anyway? Particularly in Taiwan, where it isn't exactly 2 below and snowing this time of year.
This also brings to mind a really bad Geena Davis movie I saw a few years back, where the Geena character, very pregnant, had to wear a Santa outfit with a short skirt and get up and dance at an office holiday party. As I remember it, her water broke right in the middle of the number. Man...what was that movie called again?
Somebody get me somebody who can explain why my mind works this way.
Shortly after my elementary class this morning, I got another call from Jay, my line manager. He called to tell me that, next Monday, my cover stint will involve dressing up as Santa Claus for an hour and handing out gifts to the kids.
Wow...something I have really, really, really never wanted to do! I half-suspect I was volunteered for this because of my more-than-ample girth, which only makes it worse. What I'm wondering is, how hot are those outfits, anyway? Particularly in Taiwan, where it isn't exactly 2 below and snowing this time of year.
This also brings to mind a really bad Geena Davis movie I saw a few years back, where the Geena character, very pregnant, had to wear a Santa outfit with a short skirt and get up and dance at an office holiday party. As I remember it, her water broke right in the middle of the number. Man...what was that movie called again?
Somebody get me somebody who can explain why my mind works this way.
Cathouses
My elementary class provided another moment of merriment today. I was working with one of my students out of our book, which had a picture of various things attempting to prompt statements about what someone has to do before going on vacation. One of them was a picture of a cat.
My student was thinking of a kennel, but didn't know the word in English. So she said "have to put the cat in the cathouse", and I burst out laughing.
I did explain to her that in America, a cathouse is a house of prostitution.
This does make me wonder, though, why a doghouse is a place your dog (or cheating husband) lives, but a cathouse is a place for women who earn their daily bread on their backsides. Hmm....
My student was thinking of a kennel, but didn't know the word in English. So she said "have to put the cat in the cathouse", and I burst out laughing.
I did explain to her that in America, a cathouse is a house of prostitution.
This does make me wonder, though, why a doghouse is a place your dog (or cheating husband) lives, but a cathouse is a place for women who earn their daily bread on their backsides. Hmm....
Butt Bows
About three years ago, I was out of college and taking a really long time to find my first job in an impossible job market. My lack of experience of the world didn't make it any easier. After a year of failure in the market, I took a job, very briefly, at the 82nd Street Barnes & Noble in Manhattan.
There was nothing particularly positive about that job; three weeks into it, when I finally landed a "real" job (meaning, as I understood it then, one that involved putting on a necktie and going into a soulless office every day), I quit without giving notice. Very little would tempt me to go back to making not even $8.00 an hour answering boneheaded questions like, "Where is the nonfiction section?" or, worse, embarassing ones like, "Where can I find Amazing Sex for Dummies?" (I still wonder why dummies should get to have all the amazing sex).
One small highlight of that job, though, came in the form of a book called Bridezillas: True Tales from Etiquette Hell, which I used to read on my breaks or basically whenever I didn't have a customer in front of me trying to see if I could figure out the name of some book about penguins that had been an Oprah's Book Club selection two years ago. I took a sort of awful delight in the horrendous behavior of these brides as well as the cutting things said about it by the women who wrote the book.
This was before Bridezillas, the series, came to cable, and the word entered the more general lexicon. So I guess I was, briefly, on the cutting edge of something.
I thought about that this morning when my Adult Elementary class got onto the subject of clothes. This segued into formal clothes, which somehow segued into weddings. I found myself explaining bridesmaids' dresses.
Bridesmaids' dresses have become a stock joke in America. I have the general impression that nearly every woman between 20 and 40 has had at least one experience of having been dressed up in a hideous orange taffeta dress with an enormous butt bow, a crinoline, and an unflattering neckline, for which she paid at least $400 U.S. This last part, the cost, seems to be a particular source of resentment, given how few occasions the typical bridesmaid can wear that dress after the wedding.
I explained all of this to my students, and found that, amazingly, Taiwanese brides are too polite (or maybe too pre-feminist...it's hard to tell) to dress up their friends in hideous outfits just to make themselves look better. More to the point, Taiwanese wedding apparrel, even for the bride, is almost always rented, not bought, and it's considered the responsibility of the bride, groom, and their respective families to pay for the attire of members of the bridal party.
I was also thrilled to find that the wedding registry as we know it in America doesn't exist in Taiwan. Thank God. I have always considered this one of the tackier American cultural traditions, drawing up a list of things and saying to your friends and family, essentially, "Gimme, Gimme, Gimme!" The Chinese custom for weddings is identical to that for Chinese New Year--cash in red envelopes, red being considered a lucky color in Chinese culture.
This is something I have defnintely noticed about Chinese, or at least Taiwanese, culture. People are more restrained, in a good sense, when it comes to these kinds of manners. People seem able to forego the sprawling six-bedroom loft in favor of the modest little one-bedroom they can actually afford. They manage not to make their groomsmen, ushers, and bridesmaids hideous and miserable in the course of getting married.
As much as I find this country strange at times, I also notice that there is a lot Americans could learn from the Taiwanese. This is just one more example of that.
There was nothing particularly positive about that job; three weeks into it, when I finally landed a "real" job (meaning, as I understood it then, one that involved putting on a necktie and going into a soulless office every day), I quit without giving notice. Very little would tempt me to go back to making not even $8.00 an hour answering boneheaded questions like, "Where is the nonfiction section?" or, worse, embarassing ones like, "Where can I find Amazing Sex for Dummies?" (I still wonder why dummies should get to have all the amazing sex).
One small highlight of that job, though, came in the form of a book called Bridezillas: True Tales from Etiquette Hell, which I used to read on my breaks or basically whenever I didn't have a customer in front of me trying to see if I could figure out the name of some book about penguins that had been an Oprah's Book Club selection two years ago. I took a sort of awful delight in the horrendous behavior of these brides as well as the cutting things said about it by the women who wrote the book.
This was before Bridezillas, the series, came to cable, and the word entered the more general lexicon. So I guess I was, briefly, on the cutting edge of something.
I thought about that this morning when my Adult Elementary class got onto the subject of clothes. This segued into formal clothes, which somehow segued into weddings. I found myself explaining bridesmaids' dresses.
Bridesmaids' dresses have become a stock joke in America. I have the general impression that nearly every woman between 20 and 40 has had at least one experience of having been dressed up in a hideous orange taffeta dress with an enormous butt bow, a crinoline, and an unflattering neckline, for which she paid at least $400 U.S. This last part, the cost, seems to be a particular source of resentment, given how few occasions the typical bridesmaid can wear that dress after the wedding.
I explained all of this to my students, and found that, amazingly, Taiwanese brides are too polite (or maybe too pre-feminist...it's hard to tell) to dress up their friends in hideous outfits just to make themselves look better. More to the point, Taiwanese wedding apparrel, even for the bride, is almost always rented, not bought, and it's considered the responsibility of the bride, groom, and their respective families to pay for the attire of members of the bridal party.
I was also thrilled to find that the wedding registry as we know it in America doesn't exist in Taiwan. Thank God. I have always considered this one of the tackier American cultural traditions, drawing up a list of things and saying to your friends and family, essentially, "Gimme, Gimme, Gimme!" The Chinese custom for weddings is identical to that for Chinese New Year--cash in red envelopes, red being considered a lucky color in Chinese culture.
This is something I have defnintely noticed about Chinese, or at least Taiwanese, culture. People are more restrained, in a good sense, when it comes to these kinds of manners. People seem able to forego the sprawling six-bedroom loft in favor of the modest little one-bedroom they can actually afford. They manage not to make their groomsmen, ushers, and bridesmaids hideous and miserable in the course of getting married.
As much as I find this country strange at times, I also notice that there is a lot Americans could learn from the Taiwanese. This is just one more example of that.
19 December 2007
Kizzy Moore and Miss Scarlett
Sometimes, I hate the places my mind goes.
I don't mean that in some ugly gutter sense. But I hate the tendency of my mind to reach for the complicated and fussy instead of the simple and easy to understand.
An example of this happened in my adult elementary class (two middle-class housewives) this morning, when I got into explaining the future use of the present continuous. In a nutshell, the present continuous ("I am working", etc.) can be used to indicate the future when there is some sort of clear connection to the present--that is, when you have already decided what you will do, or a plan has already been made.
Well, I got myself a bit flummoxed trying to explain how the usage of this is different from the "going to" future ("I'm going to visit my aunt tomorrow"). In reality, I think there is little-to-no difference anymore, but some people think the "going to" is for less definite plans.
Somehow, we ended up working with the example of "I am getting married in the morning" vs. "we're going to get married soon". And this made me think, of all things, of the scene in Roots in where Tom Moore comes to rape Kizzy the night before she is to be married, because Kizzy begs the master not to do it because "she's going to be married in a little while".
Okay, the connection wasn't so random. I've watched my DVD of Roots about five times since I bought it over the summer. I've discovered it's a great thing to watch when times are hard and you feel lost in the world, because it's all about people not forgetting who they really are and knowing where they really should be going.
But today, I made the mistake of trying to explain Roots to my students. Back in a primitive age when people thought white polyester leisure suits were the height of fashion, Roots was a phenomenon worldwide. So I thought there was at least some possibility that it might have been broadcast in Taiwan at some point.
I found out that it hasn't--apparently, back in the 1970s, little or no foreign television was broadcast in Taiwan. I guess this shouldn't shock me, since Taiwan has become a democratic society only within the last fifteen years. The Kuomintang probably would not have wanted a story about people striving to be free to tear across television screens in Taiwan the way it did in America and the rest of the world.
I did, however, discover in the course of this conversation that one of my students really loves Gone With the Wind. She mentioned "an old movie about the Civil War," with a heroine whose name began "Sca-"--and so I immediately put Gone With the Wind up on the white board. Oddly, she is not the first Chinese person to tell me this. One day during my CELTA training, we did a game where students had to come up with different words beginning with the same letter in various categories, and one student, a Chinese woman who couldn't have been 5'1", burst out that here favorite film was Gone With the Wind. I don't want to seem racist, but it is odd to hear this sentiment expressed by someone who so plainly is not a little flower of Southern gentility.
I don't mean that in some ugly gutter sense. But I hate the tendency of my mind to reach for the complicated and fussy instead of the simple and easy to understand.
An example of this happened in my adult elementary class (two middle-class housewives) this morning, when I got into explaining the future use of the present continuous. In a nutshell, the present continuous ("I am working", etc.) can be used to indicate the future when there is some sort of clear connection to the present--that is, when you have already decided what you will do, or a plan has already been made.
Well, I got myself a bit flummoxed trying to explain how the usage of this is different from the "going to" future ("I'm going to visit my aunt tomorrow"). In reality, I think there is little-to-no difference anymore, but some people think the "going to" is for less definite plans.
Somehow, we ended up working with the example of "I am getting married in the morning" vs. "we're going to get married soon". And this made me think, of all things, of the scene in Roots in where Tom Moore comes to rape Kizzy the night before she is to be married, because Kizzy begs the master not to do it because "she's going to be married in a little while".
Okay, the connection wasn't so random. I've watched my DVD of Roots about five times since I bought it over the summer. I've discovered it's a great thing to watch when times are hard and you feel lost in the world, because it's all about people not forgetting who they really are and knowing where they really should be going.
But today, I made the mistake of trying to explain Roots to my students. Back in a primitive age when people thought white polyester leisure suits were the height of fashion, Roots was a phenomenon worldwide. So I thought there was at least some possibility that it might have been broadcast in Taiwan at some point.
I found out that it hasn't--apparently, back in the 1970s, little or no foreign television was broadcast in Taiwan. I guess this shouldn't shock me, since Taiwan has become a democratic society only within the last fifteen years. The Kuomintang probably would not have wanted a story about people striving to be free to tear across television screens in Taiwan the way it did in America and the rest of the world.
I did, however, discover in the course of this conversation that one of my students really loves Gone With the Wind. She mentioned "an old movie about the Civil War," with a heroine whose name began "Sca-"--and so I immediately put Gone With the Wind up on the white board. Oddly, she is not the first Chinese person to tell me this. One day during my CELTA training, we did a game where students had to come up with different words beginning with the same letter in various categories, and one student, a Chinese woman who couldn't have been 5'1", burst out that here favorite film was Gone With the Wind. I don't want to seem racist, but it is odd to hear this sentiment expressed by someone who so plainly is not a little flower of Southern gentility.
I Saw the Sign
When Dave Roberts told me yesterday that he thought there might be some cover work for me over the next couple weeks, I was hesistant to be hopeful about it. I have heard promises like this before in what has passed for my professional life the last four years, and so I would not allow myself to really believe without a clear sign. But I wanted to.
Well, that signcame today in the form of a telephone call from my line manager, Jay. I was surprised to hear from Jay so soon after the promise was made; I had understood from Dave Roberts that it might take two days at least before Head Office would know whether it had anything for me. But Jay called this afternoon and has arranged a pretty busy schedule for me.
I have 5 1/2 hours of classes next Monday, which is a promising start. Jay told me to come to Head Office at half past noon, and he will take me to the school in Taipei, which is only one MRT stop away. He has pledged his direct help and support with lesson planning during this period, which is a relief.
All in all, I will be working seven of ten possible working days (Shane guarantees all of its employees two days off per week) over the next two weeks. This is not bad, especially when you factor in that one of those days in Christmas and another is New Year's Day.
I know I shouldn't read too much into this, but a big part of me wants to take this as a sign that Shane is committed to keeping me. Eve and Ruby may have treated me as a disposable commodity, but Shane seems to want to hold onto me. I couldn't be more thrilled.
Fortunately, I had no opportunity to speak to Ruby or Eve at any point today. After yesterday's performance--I can only call what happened yesterday a performance, because I can't believe anyone could seriously assert what they asserted at the meeting yesterday--and the subsequent tongue lashing from Dave Roberts, they probably had the sense not to start anything.
Well, that signcame today in the form of a telephone call from my line manager, Jay. I was surprised to hear from Jay so soon after the promise was made; I had understood from Dave Roberts that it might take two days at least before Head Office would know whether it had anything for me. But Jay called this afternoon and has arranged a pretty busy schedule for me.
I have 5 1/2 hours of classes next Monday, which is a promising start. Jay told me to come to Head Office at half past noon, and he will take me to the school in Taipei, which is only one MRT stop away. He has pledged his direct help and support with lesson planning during this period, which is a relief.
All in all, I will be working seven of ten possible working days (Shane guarantees all of its employees two days off per week) over the next two weeks. This is not bad, especially when you factor in that one of those days in Christmas and another is New Year's Day.
I know I shouldn't read too much into this, but a big part of me wants to take this as a sign that Shane is committed to keeping me. Eve and Ruby may have treated me as a disposable commodity, but Shane seems to want to hold onto me. I couldn't be more thrilled.
Fortunately, I had no opportunity to speak to Ruby or Eve at any point today. After yesterday's performance--I can only call what happened yesterday a performance, because I can't believe anyone could seriously assert what they asserted at the meeting yesterday--and the subsequent tongue lashing from Dave Roberts, they probably had the sense not to start anything.
18 December 2007
Friday's Child
Today, Yahoo ran a story from Reuter's about a child in Italy who had been renamed by an Italian court. Orginally given, and baptised with, the name of Friday, the child has been renamed Gregory because of an Italian law that forbids "shameful" names for children. The report indicated that in Italy, Friday is considered to be unlucky by the superstitious.
Naturally, the parents are livid about this. And I don't blame them. While I'm against "shameful" names for children as much as anyone, I can't see what's particularly shameful about this name. It may be a tad outlandish and not something I would use for my own child, but, when I encounter children every day--in Taiwan, no less--named Eudora or Fish, I fail to see what the fuss is about.
Maybe this is the same Italian court that, a few years back, decreed a woman couldn't be declared to have been raped if she was wearing jeans at the time.
Many cultures in Africa, I understand, have days-of-the-week name. I remember reading in a baby-naming book once that slaves in the Old South often had names like Tuesday or Friday, because of a lively tradition of similar names in Africa.
Within Jewish communities, there are numerous men named Shabbat (the Sabbath), Pesach (Passover), and even Shavuot or Sukkot, because they were born on those holidays.
So this ruling strikes me as incredibly culturally insensitive.
I also agree with the mother's assertion that there's a class issue involved here. Italian courts have not forced wealthy celebrities who give their children unusual names to change them. So I don't see why a run-of-the-mill middle-class Italian family should have to do this.
Naturally, the parents are livid about this. And I don't blame them. While I'm against "shameful" names for children as much as anyone, I can't see what's particularly shameful about this name. It may be a tad outlandish and not something I would use for my own child, but, when I encounter children every day--in Taiwan, no less--named Eudora or Fish, I fail to see what the fuss is about.
Maybe this is the same Italian court that, a few years back, decreed a woman couldn't be declared to have been raped if she was wearing jeans at the time.
Many cultures in Africa, I understand, have days-of-the-week name. I remember reading in a baby-naming book once that slaves in the Old South often had names like Tuesday or Friday, because of a lively tradition of similar names in Africa.
Within Jewish communities, there are numerous men named Shabbat (the Sabbath), Pesach (Passover), and even Shavuot or Sukkot, because they were born on those holidays.
So this ruling strikes me as incredibly culturally insensitive.
I also agree with the mother's assertion that there's a class issue involved here. Italian courts have not forced wealthy celebrities who give their children unusual names to change them. So I don't see why a run-of-the-mill middle-class Italian family should have to do this.
Go Tell It on the Mountain
At last, the day I've been waiting for these past two weeks has come:
I have resigned from my position as a teacher in Taoyuan.
To a few of you, this will be old news, as I have solicited your advice during my recent troubles. But after giving my verbal resignation in Head Office this morning, in a meeting attended by Dave Roberts as well as my line manager, Jay, I am now fully free to relate everything that has led up to this day.
A bit over a fortnight ago, I had lunch with one of my adult students. Over lunch, he told me that Ruby had told him she wanted to fire me, and had asked him to do the deed if and when she completely made up her mind. He had refused to have any hand in such a business, he told her, but he told me what she had said so as to give me warning and the chance to consider what I might do.
I thanked him, and resolved then and there that I would have nothing more to do with Eve, Ruby, or the Taoyuan 8 Branch of Shane English School.
The matter could not be disposed of immediately, however, because I was due to leave on my second visa run the following week, and I needed to stabilize my situation in Taiwan first (at least for another 30 days). But I informed my line manager, Jay, of my decision the day he came to do my teacher observation, and he has been generally helpful and sympathetic in getting all of the arrangements made.
We were to have done this last Tuesday, but there was some mix-up about the schedule, and they didn't turn up at that meeting. So today, finally, it took place.
I did not get everything I wanted. But I got an early departure date--my contract specifies three months' notice, but I knew that, given my visa situation, Eve and Ruby would never hold me to that--literally this Saturday. I was gobsmacked (yes, gobsmacked is offically the official word of this blog), though this was not the most suprising turn of events.
Eve and Ruby had the temerity to show up with two attorneys and demand compensation for students I had allegedly "lost". Dave Roberts told them and their attorneys, in no uncertain words, that assessment for loss of students was expressly forbidden by my contract. I suspected as much--who would agree to teach anywhere if he had to pay for every student who was dissatisfied and decided not to continue lessons--but would never have had the presence of mind to say so. But the demand in and of itself was outrageous.
They also demanded that I not say anything about the school or its conduct with regards to my employment on this blog or anywhere else on the internet. Dave Roberts specifically referred to this as my "human rights" when I asked them, essentially, what my silence was worth to them. I asked for nothing more than flight money, for my flight into Taiwan and my flight home. They refused, because of my "attitude", and I made clear that I would say what I wished, where I wished, and to whom I wished, in consequence--that I would go tell it on the mountain if I so chose. And so I am doing.
Eve and Ruby wanted Head Office to supply a new teacher, without having to pay any additional recruitment fee. Dave Roberts stated categorically that this could be done only if it was shown that I had been properly managed, which had not been established at all. He mentioned specifically problems Shane had had with another franchise school five years ago that had completely mismanaged its teachers and done immense damage to Shane's professional reputation. I expect he did so to make clear that, from what I had revealed of the school's mismanagement, he considered their school to be fairly similar.
He asked me to go have a coffee, during which time I can only suppose he gave them quite a tongue lashing about all of the ways they had mismanaged the school. I saw the materials I had given Mark Riley about their mismanagement fluttering out of his binder as I left. While he naturally would not share the specifics with me (and I am uninterested in any case), it's clear they aren't going to get a new teacher for free. That brings a spot of joy into my life--at least it won't be easy for them to replace me.
Before I left, however, he indicated that I might be called back should any point of dispute arise. About an hour later, sitting in an internet cafe in Taipei, I got such a call.
No dispute had arisen, I found out, but Dave Roberts wanted to speak to me to offer some cover work in Taipei over the next couple of weeks (if there is any available), which could lead to my being a "floating teacher"--in Shane parlance, a teacher directly employed by Head Office who teaches at multiple branches--if they got good reports of my teaching. He clearly acknowledged that my inadequacies in the classroom were likely due to a lack of contact with other teachers and a lack of support.
Jay, my line manager, indicated he would be glad to help with lesson planning a bit during this transition period. I am sure I can turn this around, if I put my mind to it.
The only thing Dave Roberts would not guarantee was the cost of another visa run. But, provided things work out, I would have sponsorship for a proper work permit and be able to stay permenently or "permanently" in Taiwan.
But at least, I am free of Eve, Ruby, and all of their rigidity and incompetence. Every other time I've left an employer, it has never been with any sense of liberation or jubilation. But that is exactly what I feel at the moment.
I have resigned from my position as a teacher in Taoyuan.
To a few of you, this will be old news, as I have solicited your advice during my recent troubles. But after giving my verbal resignation in Head Office this morning, in a meeting attended by Dave Roberts as well as my line manager, Jay, I am now fully free to relate everything that has led up to this day.
A bit over a fortnight ago, I had lunch with one of my adult students. Over lunch, he told me that Ruby had told him she wanted to fire me, and had asked him to do the deed if and when she completely made up her mind. He had refused to have any hand in such a business, he told her, but he told me what she had said so as to give me warning and the chance to consider what I might do.
I thanked him, and resolved then and there that I would have nothing more to do with Eve, Ruby, or the Taoyuan 8 Branch of Shane English School.
The matter could not be disposed of immediately, however, because I was due to leave on my second visa run the following week, and I needed to stabilize my situation in Taiwan first (at least for another 30 days). But I informed my line manager, Jay, of my decision the day he came to do my teacher observation, and he has been generally helpful and sympathetic in getting all of the arrangements made.
We were to have done this last Tuesday, but there was some mix-up about the schedule, and they didn't turn up at that meeting. So today, finally, it took place.
I did not get everything I wanted. But I got an early departure date--my contract specifies three months' notice, but I knew that, given my visa situation, Eve and Ruby would never hold me to that--literally this Saturday. I was gobsmacked (yes, gobsmacked is offically the official word of this blog), though this was not the most suprising turn of events.
Eve and Ruby had the temerity to show up with two attorneys and demand compensation for students I had allegedly "lost". Dave Roberts told them and their attorneys, in no uncertain words, that assessment for loss of students was expressly forbidden by my contract. I suspected as much--who would agree to teach anywhere if he had to pay for every student who was dissatisfied and decided not to continue lessons--but would never have had the presence of mind to say so. But the demand in and of itself was outrageous.
They also demanded that I not say anything about the school or its conduct with regards to my employment on this blog or anywhere else on the internet. Dave Roberts specifically referred to this as my "human rights" when I asked them, essentially, what my silence was worth to them. I asked for nothing more than flight money, for my flight into Taiwan and my flight home. They refused, because of my "attitude", and I made clear that I would say what I wished, where I wished, and to whom I wished, in consequence--that I would go tell it on the mountain if I so chose. And so I am doing.
Eve and Ruby wanted Head Office to supply a new teacher, without having to pay any additional recruitment fee. Dave Roberts stated categorically that this could be done only if it was shown that I had been properly managed, which had not been established at all. He mentioned specifically problems Shane had had with another franchise school five years ago that had completely mismanaged its teachers and done immense damage to Shane's professional reputation. I expect he did so to make clear that, from what I had revealed of the school's mismanagement, he considered their school to be fairly similar.
He asked me to go have a coffee, during which time I can only suppose he gave them quite a tongue lashing about all of the ways they had mismanaged the school. I saw the materials I had given Mark Riley about their mismanagement fluttering out of his binder as I left. While he naturally would not share the specifics with me (and I am uninterested in any case), it's clear they aren't going to get a new teacher for free. That brings a spot of joy into my life--at least it won't be easy for them to replace me.
Before I left, however, he indicated that I might be called back should any point of dispute arise. About an hour later, sitting in an internet cafe in Taipei, I got such a call.
No dispute had arisen, I found out, but Dave Roberts wanted to speak to me to offer some cover work in Taipei over the next couple of weeks (if there is any available), which could lead to my being a "floating teacher"--in Shane parlance, a teacher directly employed by Head Office who teaches at multiple branches--if they got good reports of my teaching. He clearly acknowledged that my inadequacies in the classroom were likely due to a lack of contact with other teachers and a lack of support.
Jay, my line manager, indicated he would be glad to help with lesson planning a bit during this transition period. I am sure I can turn this around, if I put my mind to it.
The only thing Dave Roberts would not guarantee was the cost of another visa run. But, provided things work out, I would have sponsorship for a proper work permit and be able to stay permenently or "permanently" in Taiwan.
But at least, I am free of Eve, Ruby, and all of their rigidity and incompetence. Every other time I've left an employer, it has never been with any sense of liberation or jubilation. But that is exactly what I feel at the moment.
17 December 2007
The Inbound Gowanus
When I was a little boy, my father had to drive me to and from a school several miles from where we then lived in suburban New Jersey. As he drove and I rode, we would listen to WCBS in New York. Our morning trek always coincided with the New York City traffic report, which always seemed to include some mention of a strange thing called the "inbound Gowanus." Being so young, I had no idea of roads and traffic, and never having been to Long Island, I had never heard of the Gowanus Expressway. I think I pictured the inbound Gowanus as some kind of giant monster that devoured everything in its path.
Many Long Island commuters, I now suspect, would not disagree with that description of the inbound Gowanus.
I thought of the inbound Gowanus tonight when I gave a class about Brooklyn to my API01 class. The centerpiece of this class was a recent New York Times article on gentrification along the Gowanus Canal, an area most known in New York for its stench and pollution than for anything else. But the Yuppies are, indeed, moving to Gowanus. I recall reading a story in the Times real estate section a couple years ago about a Yuppie couple who, priced out of Park Slope, bought a place between 3rd and 4th Avenues, near the Gowanus Canal. They insisted that they lived in a place called "G Slope." I wanted to scream at them, "Get over it! You do not live in Park Slope. The Gowanus Canal is not Park Slope!"
I am amazed sometimes at how much my students do know about the world. One of my students brought up the broken window theory--a theory that actively combatting low-level petty crime leads to a reduction in more serious crime.
I used this as a good springboard for getting into my conditionals:
0) "If you don't fix windows, people move out of a neighborhood."--expresses something that is always true
1) "If you don't fix the window, I'll move out."--cause and effect (often used in threats)
2) "If you would fix the window, I would stay."--promise or bargaining
3) "If the landlord had fixed the window, I would have stayed in Brooklyn."--explanation or regret
But it was interesting to discuss dear old Brooklyn. How I do not miss it! Or at least, how I do not miss paying upwards of $800 U.S. for a room in a neighborhood that was an hour away from anywhere in Manhattan. How I do not miss hearing about or talking about real estate prices in Park Slope or seeing modest little cottages in Ditmas Park advertised at $799,000. Private bathroom or no private bathroom, my housing situation can only get better from there.
Many Long Island commuters, I now suspect, would not disagree with that description of the inbound Gowanus.
I thought of the inbound Gowanus tonight when I gave a class about Brooklyn to my API01 class. The centerpiece of this class was a recent New York Times article on gentrification along the Gowanus Canal, an area most known in New York for its stench and pollution than for anything else. But the Yuppies are, indeed, moving to Gowanus. I recall reading a story in the Times real estate section a couple years ago about a Yuppie couple who, priced out of Park Slope, bought a place between 3rd and 4th Avenues, near the Gowanus Canal. They insisted that they lived in a place called "G Slope." I wanted to scream at them, "Get over it! You do not live in Park Slope. The Gowanus Canal is not Park Slope!"
I am amazed sometimes at how much my students do know about the world. One of my students brought up the broken window theory--a theory that actively combatting low-level petty crime leads to a reduction in more serious crime.
I used this as a good springboard for getting into my conditionals:
0) "If you don't fix windows, people move out of a neighborhood."--expresses something that is always true
1) "If you don't fix the window, I'll move out."--cause and effect (often used in threats)
2) "If you would fix the window, I would stay."--promise or bargaining
3) "If the landlord had fixed the window, I would have stayed in Brooklyn."--explanation or regret
But it was interesting to discuss dear old Brooklyn. How I do not miss it! Or at least, how I do not miss paying upwards of $800 U.S. for a room in a neighborhood that was an hour away from anywhere in Manhattan. How I do not miss hearing about or talking about real estate prices in Park Slope or seeing modest little cottages in Ditmas Park advertised at $799,000. Private bathroom or no private bathroom, my housing situation can only get better from there.
16 December 2007
Money to Burn
I got together with my friend Jacky today for the first time since we were rear-ended together. He seems to be doing fine. The creep who assaulted him hasn't been found by the police yet, but he's found a job in Taipei and will try to move up there shortly.
After a quick bite of lunch, Jacky and I went to visit his twin brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. As near as I can tell, they live clear on the other side of town from where my school is--though my sense of direction and where things are in Taoyuan has never really developed.
Jacky's sister was very kind, though she kept apologizing profusely that her English is so bad. Her son is all of 13 months old and seems to be about as rambunctious as you would expect for that age. She told me she intended to start him on English as soon as he said his first words in Chinese. They had a few English-language storybooks and CDs around already. To me, this is a tad obsessive, but given the way American parents of certain social classes play Mozart in utero and do flashcards with two-year-olds, who am I to comment?
When we had been there about an hour, Jacky's sister mentioned that she wanted to go to temple for reasons I did not quite catch. And so it was that I got my first experience in a Chinese temple.
Normally, Jacky tells me, each temple is dedicated to only one god, but this one served for ten because it is so large. Though he didn't name all of the deities to me, he pointed out the deity for wealth and career, the deity for longevity, and the supreme deity who is apparently above all the others. One literally ascends to commune with this deity; his center of worship is on a level above that of the other deities, and one must climb two flights of stairs to get there.
Jacky made clear that one must commune with the deities in a spirit of sincerity, which did not surprise me. It did seem, however, that petition for what one wants is the main form of worship of the deity. I found little in the way of offering thanksgiving in what Jacky described of the practices in the temple, but this may just not have been the time or venue for that. I cannot believe that the Chinese do not offer up prayers of thanksgiving as well as of petition.
Upon praying to each deity, one places a stick of incense in front of its shrine or urn. I had known that Chinese people, and many other Asian people, use sticks of incense in their worship. In fact, I was warned before I came to Taiwan not to leave my chopsticks pointing straight up in rice, because this resembles the incense burned at funerals and is therefore seen as a bad omen. But I had never actually seen the incense so used, and the experience was definitely interesting.
I also got to see the burning of paper money to the gods. This is not real money but pieces of paper that are designed to look like money. Jacky seemed a bit puzzled when I asked what protecting gods do with money. He supposes they pay their water bills and buy nicer cars, just like us down below, or at least that was what I gleaned from what he told me.
After a quick bite of lunch, Jacky and I went to visit his twin brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. As near as I can tell, they live clear on the other side of town from where my school is--though my sense of direction and where things are in Taoyuan has never really developed.
Jacky's sister was very kind, though she kept apologizing profusely that her English is so bad. Her son is all of 13 months old and seems to be about as rambunctious as you would expect for that age. She told me she intended to start him on English as soon as he said his first words in Chinese. They had a few English-language storybooks and CDs around already. To me, this is a tad obsessive, but given the way American parents of certain social classes play Mozart in utero and do flashcards with two-year-olds, who am I to comment?
When we had been there about an hour, Jacky's sister mentioned that she wanted to go to temple for reasons I did not quite catch. And so it was that I got my first experience in a Chinese temple.
Normally, Jacky tells me, each temple is dedicated to only one god, but this one served for ten because it is so large. Though he didn't name all of the deities to me, he pointed out the deity for wealth and career, the deity for longevity, and the supreme deity who is apparently above all the others. One literally ascends to commune with this deity; his center of worship is on a level above that of the other deities, and one must climb two flights of stairs to get there.
Jacky made clear that one must commune with the deities in a spirit of sincerity, which did not surprise me. It did seem, however, that petition for what one wants is the main form of worship of the deity. I found little in the way of offering thanksgiving in what Jacky described of the practices in the temple, but this may just not have been the time or venue for that. I cannot believe that the Chinese do not offer up prayers of thanksgiving as well as of petition.
Upon praying to each deity, one places a stick of incense in front of its shrine or urn. I had known that Chinese people, and many other Asian people, use sticks of incense in their worship. In fact, I was warned before I came to Taiwan not to leave my chopsticks pointing straight up in rice, because this resembles the incense burned at funerals and is therefore seen as a bad omen. But I had never actually seen the incense so used, and the experience was definitely interesting.
I also got to see the burning of paper money to the gods. This is not real money but pieces of paper that are designed to look like money. Jacky seemed a bit puzzled when I asked what protecting gods do with money. He supposes they pay their water bills and buy nicer cars, just like us down below, or at least that was what I gleaned from what he told me.
15 December 2007
Famous for Being Famous
Another thing I realized after my last API01 class on Thursday is that it's easy to get yourself mired in explaining distinctions in English that aren't really as important as you think they are.
In my case, I realized this after one of my students told me he wanted to learn more about New York. I had mentioned in an earlier class that my most recent home in America was in the Big Apple, and so one of my students asked if he could learn more about it. After I said we would talk more about it in another class, he mentioned that he was interested in learning more about New York partly because of a Taiwanese man who now plays baseball for the New York Yankees.
This somehow got me onto the topic of deserved fame versus faux celebrity status. I had to explain to my students that the word "celebrity" could be used for someone who somehow deserves his or her fame (i.e., a talented or "talented" movie star, like Tom Hanks or Brad Pitt) and someone who was "famous for being famous".
The latter concept got a puzzled look from my students. The example that sprung to mind was, of course, a certain blonde celebutante in whom I ordinarily have little to no interest. I nonetheless put Paris Hilton's name on the board, and explained that the Hilton heiress has done absolutely nothing to deserve to be the center of as much media attention as she currently commands. I had to ask if the name was known in Taiwan, because one never knows what things from America make it over to Taiwan and what things don't.
It was truly depressing to find that every single one of my students, who are by no means the kind of people who read trashy tabloids, recognized Paris Hilton. I would like to think that people on the other side of the Pacific would have the sense not to care about Ms. Hilton's antics. But apparently, they are.
Britney Spears was also mentioned in the vein of "famous for being famous." Now, this one I really can't understand. Here is a not-very-talented young lady who sings in a language the majority of Taiwanese people don't readily understand.
Yet somehow my students knew all about her shaved head.
In my case, I realized this after one of my students told me he wanted to learn more about New York. I had mentioned in an earlier class that my most recent home in America was in the Big Apple, and so one of my students asked if he could learn more about it. After I said we would talk more about it in another class, he mentioned that he was interested in learning more about New York partly because of a Taiwanese man who now plays baseball for the New York Yankees.
This somehow got me onto the topic of deserved fame versus faux celebrity status. I had to explain to my students that the word "celebrity" could be used for someone who somehow deserves his or her fame (i.e., a talented or "talented" movie star, like Tom Hanks or Brad Pitt) and someone who was "famous for being famous".
The latter concept got a puzzled look from my students. The example that sprung to mind was, of course, a certain blonde celebutante in whom I ordinarily have little to no interest. I nonetheless put Paris Hilton's name on the board, and explained that the Hilton heiress has done absolutely nothing to deserve to be the center of as much media attention as she currently commands. I had to ask if the name was known in Taiwan, because one never knows what things from America make it over to Taiwan and what things don't.
It was truly depressing to find that every single one of my students, who are by no means the kind of people who read trashy tabloids, recognized Paris Hilton. I would like to think that people on the other side of the Pacific would have the sense not to care about Ms. Hilton's antics. But apparently, they are.
Britney Spears was also mentioned in the vein of "famous for being famous." Now, this one I really can't understand. Here is a not-very-talented young lady who sings in a language the majority of Taiwanese people don't readily understand.
Yet somehow my students knew all about her shaved head.
Fortune Tellers
The students in my AP101 (Shane jargon for "adult pre-intermediate") never cease to amaze me. On Thursday night, we had a discussion about the Chinese zodiac. I had originally planned this for the night Jay from Head Office observed my teaching, but my exercise of the pineapple v. the papaya garnered student interest and took up the whole period. So Thursday, I resurrected the topic.
The Chinese Zodiac is, evidently, far more complicated than the placemats in your typical New York Chinese restaurant would indicate. In addition to the 12-year-cycle seen on the placemats, there is a 60-year cycle that runs concurrently. There is also a five-element cycle (similar to the four elements theories Europeans accepted in the Middle Ages).
I was curious as to how much Chinese people actually believe in the Chinese zodiac. From my four students, I found mostly unbelief. The two students in my class who are married to each other discussed the zodiac in connection with their own marriage, some years in the past (the students are clearly somewhere in midlife and I did not ask how long ago they married precisely). Apparently, it is customary in Chinese culture to consult a fortune teller prior to marriage. The fortune teller's role is to look at the couples' birthdates and determine whether it is suitable for them to marry.
My two married students said they had gone to the fortune tellers not out of any belief in the system but mainly to make their parents happy. I gathered this was somewhat akin to the way many couples in the West will have a big church wedding not because they actually need Jesus to sanctify their union, but to please one or more of their families.
Most interesting to me, they said they would have married regardless of what the fortune teller said. They seemed to indicate that Chinese people can shop for a fortune teller the way certain kinds of Catholics will shop for a confessor. You can pretty much find a fortune teller to give you whatever answer you need to do what you have already decided to do.
Another student expressed total unbelief and said he would not consult a fortune teller for anything.
A third, though somewhat reverent of this kind of fortuntelling as a part of Chinese cultural heritage, is now Catholic and indicated that he probably would not consult a fortune teller for that reason.
Because my students have indicated to me a total lack of interest in using the textbook, I am somewhat at a loss for clear target language to give them in each lesson. But this episode has given me an opportunity to teach the conditionals. I tried to explain, without sufficient preparation, the third conditional and basically flopped. But my students indicated an interest in understanding it. I can imagine that this is a difficult aspect of grammar to understand and use properly for a non-native speaker.
Briefly, the conditionals are as follows:
0) The "zero" conditional: "If you melt ice, you get water."
Present simple in both "if" and "then" clauses. This expresses general truths, often on the level of scientific axioms.
1) First conditional: "If you go to New York, you will see the Empire State Building."
The form is an "if" clause with the present simple and a "then" clause with a form of the future, usually shall or will. It is used to express what can happen in the future.
2) Second conditional: "If you would go to New York, you would see the Empire State Building."
The form is a form of should/would in both the "if" and "then" clause. Like the first conditional, it expresses what is possible in the future, though with less strength than the first conditional. Many observers think that, over time, the second conditional may pass out of the English language.
3) Third conditional: "If you had gone to New York, you would have seen the Empire State Building."
The form is an "if" clause with the past perfect, and a "then" clause with a should have/would have construction. Unlike the first two conditionals, this deals not with the future but with unreal situations in the past. This is probably the most confusing for students.
I will attempt to address my students' understandings about conditionals in my next class.
The Chinese Zodiac is, evidently, far more complicated than the placemats in your typical New York Chinese restaurant would indicate. In addition to the 12-year-cycle seen on the placemats, there is a 60-year cycle that runs concurrently. There is also a five-element cycle (similar to the four elements theories Europeans accepted in the Middle Ages).
I was curious as to how much Chinese people actually believe in the Chinese zodiac. From my four students, I found mostly unbelief. The two students in my class who are married to each other discussed the zodiac in connection with their own marriage, some years in the past (the students are clearly somewhere in midlife and I did not ask how long ago they married precisely). Apparently, it is customary in Chinese culture to consult a fortune teller prior to marriage. The fortune teller's role is to look at the couples' birthdates and determine whether it is suitable for them to marry.
My two married students said they had gone to the fortune tellers not out of any belief in the system but mainly to make their parents happy. I gathered this was somewhat akin to the way many couples in the West will have a big church wedding not because they actually need Jesus to sanctify their union, but to please one or more of their families.
Most interesting to me, they said they would have married regardless of what the fortune teller said. They seemed to indicate that Chinese people can shop for a fortune teller the way certain kinds of Catholics will shop for a confessor. You can pretty much find a fortune teller to give you whatever answer you need to do what you have already decided to do.
Another student expressed total unbelief and said he would not consult a fortune teller for anything.
A third, though somewhat reverent of this kind of fortuntelling as a part of Chinese cultural heritage, is now Catholic and indicated that he probably would not consult a fortune teller for that reason.
Because my students have indicated to me a total lack of interest in using the textbook, I am somewhat at a loss for clear target language to give them in each lesson. But this episode has given me an opportunity to teach the conditionals. I tried to explain, without sufficient preparation, the third conditional and basically flopped. But my students indicated an interest in understanding it. I can imagine that this is a difficult aspect of grammar to understand and use properly for a non-native speaker.
Briefly, the conditionals are as follows:
0) The "zero" conditional: "If you melt ice, you get water."
Present simple in both "if" and "then" clauses. This expresses general truths, often on the level of scientific axioms.
1) First conditional: "If you go to New York, you will see the Empire State Building."
The form is an "if" clause with the present simple and a "then" clause with a form of the future, usually shall or will. It is used to express what can happen in the future.
2) Second conditional: "If you would go to New York, you would see the Empire State Building."
The form is a form of should/would in both the "if" and "then" clause. Like the first conditional, it expresses what is possible in the future, though with less strength than the first conditional. Many observers think that, over time, the second conditional may pass out of the English language.
3) Third conditional: "If you had gone to New York, you would have seen the Empire State Building."
The form is an "if" clause with the past perfect, and a "then" clause with a should have/would have construction. Unlike the first two conditionals, this deals not with the future but with unreal situations in the past. This is probably the most confusing for students.
I will attempt to address my students' understandings about conditionals in my next class.
09 December 2007
The Hong Kong Shuffle
I am literally just back from my second visa run to Hong Kong. I left late on a Saturday afternoon and returned on Sunday.
Eve, Ruby, and I thought this would be best, as it would not necessitate my missing any classes. We decided not even to apply for a tourist visa this time; hopefully, their thinking is that they will have their permit in place within the month, and then I can just go out again and apply for my residency visa from abroad on a third (and hopefully final) visa run.
I really didn't take advantage of my time in Hong Kong, though that was partly because there was so little of it this time. I got in late at night, did not wake up until after eleven (illness and depression seem to make me want to sleep for long stretches lately), and had to be at the airport by three for my return flight. I did take another trip on the Star Ferry, and rode the trolley a little bit, but that was really it. I did, however, get some brochures about tours around the Hong Kong harbor, which I will fully take advantage of the next time I pass through.
Before I left, Eve, Ruby, and I narrowly averted another serious kerfuffle--though I suspect it has simply been delayed and will come Monday. Last Friday night, at 7:30, Ruby told me I had a second class on Saturday. There had been two boys in for this class the previous week, but from the way she described things during the week, I thought the class had closed--it seemed to be another example of my "losing" students. I told Eve and Ruby I couldn't prepare for a class with as little notice as I was given, and was extremely tired to boot (I had gotten almost no sleep the previous night), and so they hired a sub for that class that day.
This Friday night, Ruby said something like, "You have two classes after you go to Hong Kong." I took this to mean that there would be two classes for me to teach after my return from Hong Kong; we had decided the previous week I wouldn't teach the class this week, either, because of the trip.
I thought nothing of her comment, until yesterday. I finished my morning class at 12:30. After that, Ruby asked me some questions about how I would get to the airport, and I said I would probably take a cab. She said there was no need for that--she would get me information on the bus, and I should come back at 1:30. So I left to go have lunch.
I returned to the school at 2:00 to be told that "I was late" and "my class was waiting for me." I guess Ruby had meant, "You have two classes tomorrow; after that, you go to Hong Kong." But this is not what she said. As teaching the second class would not have conflicted with my trip to Hong Kong, it would have been reasonable for her to expect me to teach it, but she never communicated this to me--or at least, when she tried to, she got her English mixed up.
Well, I was completely unprepared; obviously, I couldn't teach the class. I told Eve and Ruby so, and then went upstairs, to where the boys and my Chinese Teaching Assistant, Cecilia, were waiting. I told them there was no class, and Cecilia decided to go confer with Eve and Ruby, as she said she distinctly remembered my having understood I had the class both yesterday and today. She did this in front of the students, whom I had just told to go home, clearly contradicting me in the classroom.
Now, Cecilia's English is better than Eve's or Ruby's. But even she occasionally gets mixed up. But I have a feeling Eve and Ruby will selectively choose to believe Cecilia over me. After all, I can't possibly be trusted to say what I do and do not understand in my own language, right?
Eve, Ruby, and I thought this would be best, as it would not necessitate my missing any classes. We decided not even to apply for a tourist visa this time; hopefully, their thinking is that they will have their permit in place within the month, and then I can just go out again and apply for my residency visa from abroad on a third (and hopefully final) visa run.
I really didn't take advantage of my time in Hong Kong, though that was partly because there was so little of it this time. I got in late at night, did not wake up until after eleven (illness and depression seem to make me want to sleep for long stretches lately), and had to be at the airport by three for my return flight. I did take another trip on the Star Ferry, and rode the trolley a little bit, but that was really it. I did, however, get some brochures about tours around the Hong Kong harbor, which I will fully take advantage of the next time I pass through.
Before I left, Eve, Ruby, and I narrowly averted another serious kerfuffle--though I suspect it has simply been delayed and will come Monday. Last Friday night, at 7:30, Ruby told me I had a second class on Saturday. There had been two boys in for this class the previous week, but from the way she described things during the week, I thought the class had closed--it seemed to be another example of my "losing" students. I told Eve and Ruby I couldn't prepare for a class with as little notice as I was given, and was extremely tired to boot (I had gotten almost no sleep the previous night), and so they hired a sub for that class that day.
This Friday night, Ruby said something like, "You have two classes after you go to Hong Kong." I took this to mean that there would be two classes for me to teach after my return from Hong Kong; we had decided the previous week I wouldn't teach the class this week, either, because of the trip.
I thought nothing of her comment, until yesterday. I finished my morning class at 12:30. After that, Ruby asked me some questions about how I would get to the airport, and I said I would probably take a cab. She said there was no need for that--she would get me information on the bus, and I should come back at 1:30. So I left to go have lunch.
I returned to the school at 2:00 to be told that "I was late" and "my class was waiting for me." I guess Ruby had meant, "You have two classes tomorrow; after that, you go to Hong Kong." But this is not what she said. As teaching the second class would not have conflicted with my trip to Hong Kong, it would have been reasonable for her to expect me to teach it, but she never communicated this to me--or at least, when she tried to, she got her English mixed up.
Well, I was completely unprepared; obviously, I couldn't teach the class. I told Eve and Ruby so, and then went upstairs, to where the boys and my Chinese Teaching Assistant, Cecilia, were waiting. I told them there was no class, and Cecilia decided to go confer with Eve and Ruby, as she said she distinctly remembered my having understood I had the class both yesterday and today. She did this in front of the students, whom I had just told to go home, clearly contradicting me in the classroom.
Now, Cecilia's English is better than Eve's or Ruby's. But even she occasionally gets mixed up. But I have a feeling Eve and Ruby will selectively choose to believe Cecilia over me. After all, I can't possibly be trusted to say what I do and do not understand in my own language, right?
Eve and Ruby were clearly angry about the whole thing. Of course, rather than choosing to be angry at their own poor English skills, they chose to be angry at me. Eve said something to the effect of, "So when will you be able to prepare to teach this class?" Umm...after I get back from Hong Kong, which is what we agreed. She said she was "so very angry"--although I suspect she uses "angry" as a catch-all term that includes what a native speaker would mean by angry, frustrated, or upset. But her tone was clearly one of near-fury.
I decided to leave quickly rather than let the situation continue. Nothing good could come of pursuing it then, and I hoped that by Monday, Eve and Ruby might cool down and see reason.
We'll see where this all goes when I show up for work on Monday.07 December 2007
Homeownership is Not a Mitzvah
The New York Times today erupted in righteous fury over the President's plan to help subprime borrowers: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/12/07/business/07mortgage.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&hp. The Times' reaction is predictable, and wrong.
I have followed the U.S. housing bubble for some time now, and I still have no idea what the fuss is about. Part of the problem is that I do not, as many fellow Americans seem to, regard homeownership as a right akin to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I do not see home equity as a necessity. And so I do not feel much sympathy for people who claim they have been "shut out of homeownership forever" or been "priced out" of particular neighborhoods.
It's not clear to me why the government should do anything to save 500,000 subprime borrowers from their own folly. People, it's very simple: if you can't get a mortgage except by taking on a 2-year ARM at double the going interest rate, it's a sign that you can't afford to buy a house. Or at least, that you can't afford to buy s big and snazzy a house as you had hoped to. Tough. That's life.
I see even less reason for the government to step in to save lenders who have made poorly thought-out loans to risky borrowers. About a year ago, I saw a film called Maxed Out, which was about Americans' addiction to debt, at both the personal and the national level. The film made clear that a lot of these subprime lenders are nothing more than gussied-up loan sharks, and that a lot of people are getting mortgages without any documentation whatsoever and just blatantly lying about their incomes. Gee, what a surprise: all of those cashiers at Home Depot who took out $500,000 mortgages were not really making $60,000 a year. I say let the industry stew in its own juice.
It's amazing how much this American attitude toward homeownership and saving differs from the way things are done in Taiwan. On this side of the Pacific, saving money is still a priority for most people. When Taiwanese think about "giving the best" to their children, they think of bushibans like the one that employs yours truly, not of giant back yards in the suburbs that--let's face it--are really more to relieve parents from the strain of bored children than they are a necessity for those children's development. In Taiwan, people often forego larger houses and better neighborhoods specifically because they want to give their children the best education.
But what about these poor souls who will be forced out of their homes through foreclosure? The media talks and writes as if they were facing the street. In reality, the vast majority are simply facing a future as renters--the same life I have led for three years now.
It's not the government's responsibility to help protect your ownership of something you knew you couldn't really afford in the first place. That we think it is suggests how far Americans have given up on the idea that individuals have any free will or any responsibility for their own actions.
I have followed the U.S. housing bubble for some time now, and I still have no idea what the fuss is about. Part of the problem is that I do not, as many fellow Americans seem to, regard homeownership as a right akin to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I do not see home equity as a necessity. And so I do not feel much sympathy for people who claim they have been "shut out of homeownership forever" or been "priced out" of particular neighborhoods.
It's not clear to me why the government should do anything to save 500,000 subprime borrowers from their own folly. People, it's very simple: if you can't get a mortgage except by taking on a 2-year ARM at double the going interest rate, it's a sign that you can't afford to buy a house. Or at least, that you can't afford to buy s big and snazzy a house as you had hoped to. Tough. That's life.
I see even less reason for the government to step in to save lenders who have made poorly thought-out loans to risky borrowers. About a year ago, I saw a film called Maxed Out, which was about Americans' addiction to debt, at both the personal and the national level. The film made clear that a lot of these subprime lenders are nothing more than gussied-up loan sharks, and that a lot of people are getting mortgages without any documentation whatsoever and just blatantly lying about their incomes. Gee, what a surprise: all of those cashiers at Home Depot who took out $500,000 mortgages were not really making $60,000 a year. I say let the industry stew in its own juice.
It's amazing how much this American attitude toward homeownership and saving differs from the way things are done in Taiwan. On this side of the Pacific, saving money is still a priority for most people. When Taiwanese think about "giving the best" to their children, they think of bushibans like the one that employs yours truly, not of giant back yards in the suburbs that--let's face it--are really more to relieve parents from the strain of bored children than they are a necessity for those children's development. In Taiwan, people often forego larger houses and better neighborhoods specifically because they want to give their children the best education.
But what about these poor souls who will be forced out of their homes through foreclosure? The media talks and writes as if they were facing the street. In reality, the vast majority are simply facing a future as renters--the same life I have led for three years now.
It's not the government's responsibility to help protect your ownership of something you knew you couldn't really afford in the first place. That we think it is suggests how far Americans have given up on the idea that individuals have any free will or any responsibility for their own actions.
05 December 2007
Med School in the Philippines
Television, I often joke, is very important. If you don't watch the news, you won't know what's happening in the world. And if you don't watch Desperate Housewives, you won't know...what's happening on Desperate Housewives.
The latter program, I'm starting to think, can be used as a litmus test. Either you think it's a stupid soap opera, or you think it's a scathingly brilliant satire on the status of women in American society, and a scathingly brilliant satire of soap operas. Personally, I think the show is the television version of crack; it's bad for you, sure, but you get addicted very quickly and, short of transferring your life to another continent, can't get off it.
This year, I'm in Desperate withdrawal. From looking on the Web, I know that Bree is going to pretend to be the mother of her daughter's baby, and Lynette has cancer.
Oh, and there's a controversy about a line in the season premiere, in which, told that she's going through menopause, Susan (man, I hate Susan) asks to see her doctor's diploma, just to make sure it isn't from "some med school in the Philippines."
Damn...I had to see Edie hook up with Carlos last season, but I missed this?
Unlike the Filipino and Filipino-American medical community, though, I don't see the line as being some attack against Filipinos or the Philippines per se. I think the joke was meant in the spirit of, "let's make sure they're not from some off-shore medical school I've near heard of." It could just have been, "some med school in Zimbambwe" or any other country three-quarters of Americans can't locate on a map, and the producers--possibly unaware of how many Filipino-trained staff work in American hospitals--just made an error in judgment by choosing the Philippines as the butt of this joke. But the controversy, as well as my recent experience with The Elephant Man, has made me wonder if maybe Americans aren't just a little too prejudiced against non-American-trained medical personnel.
Should the show have issued an apology? Maybe. Should the line be deleted from future airings and DVD? In my opinion, no. The damage is done. I think it's kind of worse to pretend things like this never happened.
The latter program, I'm starting to think, can be used as a litmus test. Either you think it's a stupid soap opera, or you think it's a scathingly brilliant satire on the status of women in American society, and a scathingly brilliant satire of soap operas. Personally, I think the show is the television version of crack; it's bad for you, sure, but you get addicted very quickly and, short of transferring your life to another continent, can't get off it.
This year, I'm in Desperate withdrawal. From looking on the Web, I know that Bree is going to pretend to be the mother of her daughter's baby, and Lynette has cancer.
Oh, and there's a controversy about a line in the season premiere, in which, told that she's going through menopause, Susan (man, I hate Susan) asks to see her doctor's diploma, just to make sure it isn't from "some med school in the Philippines."
Damn...I had to see Edie hook up with Carlos last season, but I missed this?
Unlike the Filipino and Filipino-American medical community, though, I don't see the line as being some attack against Filipinos or the Philippines per se. I think the joke was meant in the spirit of, "let's make sure they're not from some off-shore medical school I've near heard of." It could just have been, "some med school in Zimbambwe" or any other country three-quarters of Americans can't locate on a map, and the producers--possibly unaware of how many Filipino-trained staff work in American hospitals--just made an error in judgment by choosing the Philippines as the butt of this joke. But the controversy, as well as my recent experience with The Elephant Man, has made me wonder if maybe Americans aren't just a little too prejudiced against non-American-trained medical personnel.
Should the show have issued an apology? Maybe. Should the line be deleted from future airings and DVD? In my opinion, no. The damage is done. I think it's kind of worse to pretend things like this never happened.
The Elephant Man
With fortuitous (or not so fortuitous) timing, considering that I am giving a class about doctors and health tomorrow, I came down with a bit of a cold last night. It's probably just an effect of the Taiwanese weather, though Ruby lost no opportunity to blame it on the "bad pollution" inside the local internet cafe where I compose these blog posts. Now, my cold is not very severe; it's the kind of thing that, back home in America and away from an oversolicitous director of studies, I would probably self-medicate with Robitussin and orange juice. But Ruby, who takes the philosophy that "your health is our wealth," insisted that I seek medical care.
As Ruby has only moved to Taoyuan herself recently, she had to ask the adult student I had this morning for a recommendation. One was given, and at 3:00 this afternoon, I had my first encounter with Taiwanese medical care in the form of Dr. Su, who keeps an office on the block between my apartment and the school.
When I walked into Dr. Su's office, which was just as he opened for the afternoon (I take it Wednesdays he takes a half-day), I stood in line for a moment to take a number. I was there early and so got number six. At the counter, I was asked for my national health insurance card. Since my visa situation has yet to be resolved, and I have yet to get my work permit and residency visa, I don't have one. So I had to pay more (covered by the school): 500 NT (about $15-16 U.S.). This was the full price without insurance. This compares very favorably with the $600 U.S. bill I got once getting checked for pneumonia in a Brooklyn hospital.
Dr. Su is clearly an avid collector of elephant figurines. I'm not sure if they're just sort of his thing, or if this is an attempt to provide amusement for child patients. In fact, I half guessed he might be a pediatrician; the student who gave Ruby this recommendation is a housewife with two children, and I expect that when someone needs to know a doctor, her first instinct would be to recommend her children's pediatrician. I thought about saying something to Ruby and Eve about this before I went back, but thought better of it.
Dr. Su gave me the standard examination of eyes, ears, and throat, followed by a tap of the lungs. He said it was, as I suspected, a cold. He asked if I have any allergies; as far as I know, I don't. So he chalked it up to the weather getting colder in Taiwan, to which I did not disagree.
He squirted some kind of fluid into my mouth and nostrils and had the nurse put me through a treatment with some sort of inhaler. I've never seen the like in an American doctor's office. The thing was maybe the size of a waffle iron, and some sort of medicine was poured into it before the machine was turned on so I could inhale for five minutes. I think it did actually do something to make me feel better, though I don't really know what.
I was prescribed four different medications: one in case the thing develops into a fever (unlikely, as I'm feeling better already), one to take four times a day (meals and bedtime), and a couple of others. This all strikes me as complete overkill for the common cold. But I'll take them dutifully until I'm fully better.
On my return to the office, Ruby told me to avoid drinking cold water but drink plenty of hot water. I have never heard of any connection between cold liquids and the common cold, but belief in the benefits of drinking hot water--yes, hot water, not tea or coffee but plain hot water--seems to be widespread in Taiwan. Some of the students in my adult intermediate class saw my bottle of water at our first class meeting and told me I should switch to hot water for my health. I don't know whether this is a folk remedy or something that just isn't widely known about, or believed, in America. I don't think cups of plain hot water will ever be, pardon the pun, my cup of tea. But I told Ruby I would switch to hot water to humor her and got on about my lesson.
This whole little episode feels instructive. Americans tend not to worry much about this kind of minor cold. We take Robitussin or Contact and wait for the thing to take its course, but don't really bother with seeing a doctor for this kind of thing. I had never attributed that to the American health care system, but perhaps I should. I'm left wondering how many colds in America turn into something worse specifically because, unlike the Taiwanese, we have very expensive medical care.
As Ruby has only moved to Taoyuan herself recently, she had to ask the adult student I had this morning for a recommendation. One was given, and at 3:00 this afternoon, I had my first encounter with Taiwanese medical care in the form of Dr. Su, who keeps an office on the block between my apartment and the school.
When I walked into Dr. Su's office, which was just as he opened for the afternoon (I take it Wednesdays he takes a half-day), I stood in line for a moment to take a number. I was there early and so got number six. At the counter, I was asked for my national health insurance card. Since my visa situation has yet to be resolved, and I have yet to get my work permit and residency visa, I don't have one. So I had to pay more (covered by the school): 500 NT (about $15-16 U.S.). This was the full price without insurance. This compares very favorably with the $600 U.S. bill I got once getting checked for pneumonia in a Brooklyn hospital.
Dr. Su is clearly an avid collector of elephant figurines. I'm not sure if they're just sort of his thing, or if this is an attempt to provide amusement for child patients. In fact, I half guessed he might be a pediatrician; the student who gave Ruby this recommendation is a housewife with two children, and I expect that when someone needs to know a doctor, her first instinct would be to recommend her children's pediatrician. I thought about saying something to Ruby and Eve about this before I went back, but thought better of it.
Dr. Su gave me the standard examination of eyes, ears, and throat, followed by a tap of the lungs. He said it was, as I suspected, a cold. He asked if I have any allergies; as far as I know, I don't. So he chalked it up to the weather getting colder in Taiwan, to which I did not disagree.
He squirted some kind of fluid into my mouth and nostrils and had the nurse put me through a treatment with some sort of inhaler. I've never seen the like in an American doctor's office. The thing was maybe the size of a waffle iron, and some sort of medicine was poured into it before the machine was turned on so I could inhale for five minutes. I think it did actually do something to make me feel better, though I don't really know what.
I was prescribed four different medications: one in case the thing develops into a fever (unlikely, as I'm feeling better already), one to take four times a day (meals and bedtime), and a couple of others. This all strikes me as complete overkill for the common cold. But I'll take them dutifully until I'm fully better.
On my return to the office, Ruby told me to avoid drinking cold water but drink plenty of hot water. I have never heard of any connection between cold liquids and the common cold, but belief in the benefits of drinking hot water--yes, hot water, not tea or coffee but plain hot water--seems to be widespread in Taiwan. Some of the students in my adult intermediate class saw my bottle of water at our first class meeting and told me I should switch to hot water for my health. I don't know whether this is a folk remedy or something that just isn't widely known about, or believed, in America. I don't think cups of plain hot water will ever be, pardon the pun, my cup of tea. But I told Ruby I would switch to hot water to humor her and got on about my lesson.
This whole little episode feels instructive. Americans tend not to worry much about this kind of minor cold. We take Robitussin or Contact and wait for the thing to take its course, but don't really bother with seeing a doctor for this kind of thing. I had never attributed that to the American health care system, but perhaps I should. I'm left wondering how many colds in America turn into something worse specifically because, unlike the Taiwanese, we have very expensive medical care.
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