Last night I felt like I was in the middle of Maeve Benchley’s novel ‘Evening Class’. Yui, my former Thai teacher, invited me to work with her class and then have dinner with them afterwards.
There was the engineer, who sold huge boilers for factories. When I said to him he must sell one a month he replied; no… one every six months and had to supplement his income selling his tutoring skills in math. There was the really good looking sales executive who had to learn English to advance in his company, a guy who wanted to break away from his parents’ business selling used parts for motorcycles but felt he needed English to do this. In fact, when I went home with him on the BTS, he told me he lived in a house with his parents, grandparents, aunts ,uncles and cousins and could absolutely not imagine ever moving out. When he gets married, he said, the wife will move in with him.
What was wonderful about this class, other than all of the stories I could flesh out, is that it brought together people from all walks of life who were learning English for different reasons. There was the chambermaid who wanted to advance in her hotel, learning English at the same time asthe marketing executive. I imagine their incomes were similarly disproportionate to their job titles but when we went to the restaurant they all shared metaphorically as well as practically, both the food and their stories. In fact, it is a long week-end in Thailand (as well as all over Asia because of the May 1 labour day holiday ) and they were all talking about taking a trip together to the beach.
Two or three have cars and two or three probably can’t afford the price of a BTS ride. One pretty women could not raise her eyes to talk with anyone even though her English was pretty good, I imagine because she somehow must have felt inferior, but she was the exception. It was so great watching and listening to them practice their English and taking such delight in serving me the food and watching the smoke come out of my ears from eating all that spice.
Bangkok is so huge that I will never absolutely know all of it. I am continually astounded by all the areas just off the main streets that I never knew existed. We went to a restaurant called ‘To Sit’ which had a great singer, an outdoor area to eat (which I love since I hate air conditioning) and beautiful trees for shade, although we did not need the shade at night. It was funny when an apple fell on Yui’s head ( at least for the rest of us). Because I walk everyone I would not necessarily ever find these places until these guys drove me.
I am now doing an administrative job; in fact in a few minutes I have about 5 interviews lined up for a new school we are opening in Hanoi but there is nothing like teaching. I know I would be happy spending the rest of my life teaching an ‘evening class’ and learning their stories.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Singapore Nightlife
Last night we went to the Esplanade, a mix of the Sydney Opera House, Harbourfront and Yorkville all in one. 'Cats' was playing in the Opera House section, upstairs two soloists were playing Chinese instruments in an intimate surrounding with about fifty people listening, reading the paper and looking at the display of lamps and otherwise relaxing. In another part of the building there was a smaller theatre like the Bluma Appel Centre which had a reed group playing ( I think bamboo poles or something like that). For the Yorkville part they had tons of restaurants and bars, but unlike Yorkville, it was right on the Singapore River overlooking the Lion, the symbol of Singapore and the lights of the downtown core. There were about twenty photographers with tripods set up taking pictures which I thought was quite an amazing coincidence until I realized they were all int he same photography class.
The thing that amazed me really was how such a small country could sustain such a powerful cultural venue. I am sure that the Esplanade was not the only location for the arts. How is it that this country puts so much emphasis on the arts? I don't really know the answer, but I do know that the majority of the population is Chinese if that has anything to do with it.
After we had dinner at a delicious Japanese restaurant, the teachers took me to Clark Quay, one of the spots the young people go to party. It was the spot that Sam Raffles originally landed at as he came up the river. There was an incredible array of entertainment from a woman doing belly dancing to the loud bars and so on with a location right on the river. In fact, since Singapore is an island ( sort of) everything is on the water. I had a Singapore Sling...finally and it was nothing to write home about. Not sweet enough for my taste.
What I saw is that we could be doing a much better job with our Harbourfront in terms of variety and aesthetics. I also like the fact that there is a taxi stand at every tourist area and people line up in an orderly fashion to wait, and yes, the trains do run on time!
As I drove home I got an incredible cabby who had all of the music from Peter Paul and Mary, Harry Belafonte and so on. He knew the history, background and everything else, it seemed, about each group. I took his number and promised him that the next time I am in Singapore I will let him drive me to Malaysia so I can spend the evening ( 45 minutes really) listening to the music. ( I suppose I could buy a CD). It might be cheaper.
The thing that amazed me really was how such a small country could sustain such a powerful cultural venue. I am sure that the Esplanade was not the only location for the arts. How is it that this country puts so much emphasis on the arts? I don't really know the answer, but I do know that the majority of the population is Chinese if that has anything to do with it.
After we had dinner at a delicious Japanese restaurant, the teachers took me to Clark Quay, one of the spots the young people go to party. It was the spot that Sam Raffles originally landed at as he came up the river. There was an incredible array of entertainment from a woman doing belly dancing to the loud bars and so on with a location right on the river. In fact, since Singapore is an island ( sort of) everything is on the water. I had a Singapore Sling...finally and it was nothing to write home about. Not sweet enough for my taste.
What I saw is that we could be doing a much better job with our Harbourfront in terms of variety and aesthetics. I also like the fact that there is a taxi stand at every tourist area and people line up in an orderly fashion to wait, and yes, the trains do run on time!
As I drove home I got an incredible cabby who had all of the music from Peter Paul and Mary, Harry Belafonte and so on. He knew the history, background and everything else, it seemed, about each group. I took his number and promised him that the next time I am in Singapore I will let him drive me to Malaysia so I can spend the evening ( 45 minutes really) listening to the music. ( I suppose I could buy a CD). It might be cheaper.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
T.V. Star
Last night I was showing a colleague around the Lumpini night market when a reporter and cameraman from the Thailand Tourist Board stopped and asked me to do a little two minute interview/sound bite about what I thought of Thailand since the violence began last week. Since I am used to sound bites, I had no problem speaking in front of the camera. Afterwards, he said I was really professional (which is beside the point actually of why I am telling this story). The point is what I said. Although Thailand is virtually in a state of anarchy and has been for the past number of years, from the farang perspective, life goes on. I live on Sukhumvit, which is like Yonge Street, and as you walk up and down you see people going about their normal working lives. Having said that, at the night market last night there were many shops closed, so the economy is the same everywhere around the world but I assume they were closed because of the economy, not violence or the threat of it.
When I think about what I see in south east Asia, it is surprising or lucky that we are doing so well in the west. Thailand is in a classic state of anarchy, Myanmar has a fascist dictatorship, Singapore is a one party state as Mike is quick to point out, Vietnam is a Communist country where there is no free speech and I have not even begun to describe Laos, Cambodia, or Bangladesh. Maybe what we see here is more akin to the human condition and what we have in North America is some aberration, wrought by a confluence of factors like natural resources, free education and just plain luck. Maybe Hobbes had it right when he said the nature of man is nasty, brutish and short. In this area of the world people are packed into a can like a bunch of sardines and are virtually fighting for some little piece of space. Perhaps we would move to the right if there were a 100 million of us, even though that would probably still seem empty in Canada compared to what I see over here.
I can’t remember when I wrote last or what I said, but I am definitely having fun. Last week I was in Hanoi. My company has formed a consortium and we are opening a few large schools. I had to explain to a board of consultants what international education really is and I gave an absolutely brilliant speech, (I am a legend in my own mind.) It is so easy to give speeches in a foreign country because when the translator is talking, you can gage body reaction, think about what you want to say next and keep your thoughts in order. In addition, as I discussed with my translator afterwards, he really softened a lot of what I had to say so it would be politically acceptable. For example, I said the absolutely first thing I would change would be to rip out all of the podiums where teachers stand and talk to make the statement that the nature of teaching and learning had to change in Vietnam from teacher-centred to student centred. He said something like we might consider removing the podiums in due course or words to that effect. I told them that the afternoon nap would also have to go. God knows how he translated that one.
I am now in Singapore, where there is a one hour time difference and guess what? My cell phone automatically changed times. Wow,:yet when I go back to Bangkok I will have to change the time manually. Another amazing thing. I went down to Singapore on an emptyish plane and had a chance to lay down and sleep after takeoff. Two and a half hours later I heard the pilot say we are about to land. I must be getting as good as Alana in travelling on planes!
When I think about what I see in south east Asia, it is surprising or lucky that we are doing so well in the west. Thailand is in a classic state of anarchy, Myanmar has a fascist dictatorship, Singapore is a one party state as Mike is quick to point out, Vietnam is a Communist country where there is no free speech and I have not even begun to describe Laos, Cambodia, or Bangladesh. Maybe what we see here is more akin to the human condition and what we have in North America is some aberration, wrought by a confluence of factors like natural resources, free education and just plain luck. Maybe Hobbes had it right when he said the nature of man is nasty, brutish and short. In this area of the world people are packed into a can like a bunch of sardines and are virtually fighting for some little piece of space. Perhaps we would move to the right if there were a 100 million of us, even though that would probably still seem empty in Canada compared to what I see over here.
I can’t remember when I wrote last or what I said, but I am definitely having fun. Last week I was in Hanoi. My company has formed a consortium and we are opening a few large schools. I had to explain to a board of consultants what international education really is and I gave an absolutely brilliant speech, (I am a legend in my own mind.) It is so easy to give speeches in a foreign country because when the translator is talking, you can gage body reaction, think about what you want to say next and keep your thoughts in order. In addition, as I discussed with my translator afterwards, he really softened a lot of what I had to say so it would be politically acceptable. For example, I said the absolutely first thing I would change would be to rip out all of the podiums where teachers stand and talk to make the statement that the nature of teaching and learning had to change in Vietnam from teacher-centred to student centred. He said something like we might consider removing the podiums in due course or words to that effect. I told them that the afternoon nap would also have to go. God knows how he translated that one.
I am now in Singapore, where there is a one hour time difference and guess what? My cell phone automatically changed times. Wow,:yet when I go back to Bangkok I will have to change the time manually. Another amazing thing. I went down to Singapore on an emptyish plane and had a chance to lay down and sleep after takeoff. Two and a half hours later I heard the pilot say we are about to land. I must be getting as good as Alana in travelling on planes!
Saturday, April 11, 2009
How the Americans lost the Vietnam War
I was really privileged to be invited to supper the other night by a high ranking government official. Apparently, when you are invited to a home it is really something special and implies a very distinctive relationship. The meal, like the one I had in the restaurant a few weeks back, consisted of tons of food spread all over the table and you simply picked what you wanted to eat and put it in your one bowl. As the host explained, this is very democratic and you are not “served” as in the west where there is no choice of food.
Having said that, since I was the only ‘foreigner’, I was ‘given’ food which I had to eat because everyone was looking at me. I also committed two faux pas at the end of the meal. There was a huge rice bowl which I ate from directly instead of putting it in my bowl, which is bad enough and secondly, I remember my boss telling me at a Chinese wedding we attended together that you were supposed to decline the rice served at the end of the meal because it was a sign that you were hungry and the food was not adequate. No wonder I was the only one eating the rice!
I asked my host, who was a bit older than me, how he figured the Vietnamese were able to defeat the Chinese, then the French and then the Americans so successfully. He explained that they were simply smarter. For example, talking about food, he said the Americans ate tons of canned goods and then threw the cans outside their quarters. The Vietnamese then put frogs in all of the cans, which of course, eventually rattled. When one frog moved and caused a noise, the Americans came out and started shooting causing all of the frogs to start jumping around creating a tremendous racket and assured the Vietnamese that the Americans would shoot all of their ammunition at the phantom soldiers. Once their firepower was deleted, it made it al lot easier to capture them. He told a lot of stories like this which were quite humorous thirty-five years later, although not to Americans I don’t suppose.
Last night, after dinner, about eight of us went to a karaoke place. If you have never been, you go into a very nicely furnished room where there are couches, microphones and large TV with video and words to the music. Surprising, we ordered a bottle of whiskey and started drinking. Our age range probably varied from 35 to 65 and I quickly realized that the object of the exercise was to make everyone drunk, especially this one poor guy that was going to take up another post in a different country.
Within two hours, one guy fell asleep after vomiting, the ‘victim’ could hardly walk and everyone was laughing uproariously. As I have discussed with Joshua and Daniel so often I just don’t see where the enjoyment comes in???? I am sure you feel like hell the next day, it cost a ton of money, and vomiting does not seem like such a wonderful exercise.
I did not like the way they seemed to be picking on this one guy to drink to oblivion. For some reason, they seemed to respect the fact that I did not want to become engaged and eventually did not try to keep filling up my glass. There are a lot of things I can understand in this world even though I do not indulge or agree with them, but this is not one of them, no matter how much Joshua tries to explain it to me.
I
Having said that, since I was the only ‘foreigner’, I was ‘given’ food which I had to eat because everyone was looking at me. I also committed two faux pas at the end of the meal. There was a huge rice bowl which I ate from directly instead of putting it in my bowl, which is bad enough and secondly, I remember my boss telling me at a Chinese wedding we attended together that you were supposed to decline the rice served at the end of the meal because it was a sign that you were hungry and the food was not adequate. No wonder I was the only one eating the rice!
I asked my host, who was a bit older than me, how he figured the Vietnamese were able to defeat the Chinese, then the French and then the Americans so successfully. He explained that they were simply smarter. For example, talking about food, he said the Americans ate tons of canned goods and then threw the cans outside their quarters. The Vietnamese then put frogs in all of the cans, which of course, eventually rattled. When one frog moved and caused a noise, the Americans came out and started shooting causing all of the frogs to start jumping around creating a tremendous racket and assured the Vietnamese that the Americans would shoot all of their ammunition at the phantom soldiers. Once their firepower was deleted, it made it al lot easier to capture them. He told a lot of stories like this which were quite humorous thirty-five years later, although not to Americans I don’t suppose.
Last night, after dinner, about eight of us went to a karaoke place. If you have never been, you go into a very nicely furnished room where there are couches, microphones and large TV with video and words to the music. Surprising, we ordered a bottle of whiskey and started drinking. Our age range probably varied from 35 to 65 and I quickly realized that the object of the exercise was to make everyone drunk, especially this one poor guy that was going to take up another post in a different country.
Within two hours, one guy fell asleep after vomiting, the ‘victim’ could hardly walk and everyone was laughing uproariously. As I have discussed with Joshua and Daniel so often I just don’t see where the enjoyment comes in???? I am sure you feel like hell the next day, it cost a ton of money, and vomiting does not seem like such a wonderful exercise.
I did not like the way they seemed to be picking on this one guy to drink to oblivion. For some reason, they seemed to respect the fact that I did not want to become engaged and eventually did not try to keep filling up my glass. There are a lot of things I can understand in this world even though I do not indulge or agree with them, but this is not one of them, no matter how much Joshua tries to explain it to me.
I
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Pesach in Bangkok
I just got in from my first Seder in Bangkok. If you look up Chabad on the Internet, you will see I had two choices. One a more traditional seder, I thought, around the corner from where I live, and two, a seder in the tourist area where all the Israeli backpackers go. I chose the former because it was around the corner and boy, was I surprised. It was not quite as traditional as I originally expected as the rabbi told jokes, gave a running commentary of the Pesach story and had people read. He seemed to know everyone. Joshua, I am surprised he did not remember me from the time we were in the synagogue.
When I walked into the hotel, it was, at first blush, exactly what I expected, with all of the 'alta kuckers 'sitting around in their wheel chairs and wigs. In fact, it could easily have been Baycrest. The rabbi came over and greeted everyone by name and he was so genuinely warm it was a pleasure. I think in all there was about 150 people and my table was probably a microcosim of who was there.
We had the obligatory Israeli family with the two wild kids climbing over each other for the food and matza. Two tourists ( Cohen) from the United States who just flew in this morning and had to tell us about all of the court cases he had won for the chabad over the past millennium. Beside me was a doctor of a pharmaceutical company who told me he achieved his legacy while he was still alive by creating a herbal remedy for hormonal imbalance that cured everything from cancer to wrinkles and the guy on my other side with the Thai girlfriend was an American businessman who retired in Bangkok and drives everywhere with his motorcycle and girlfriend in tow, I suppose.
When I asked the research doctor why he settled in Bangkok ,of all of the cities in the world he could have gone two, he told me that the city has such vibrancy he would never want to leave and fell in love with it from the first day he arrived fifteen years ago. When I explained this to Gerry or Daniel, they do not understand when all they see is the traffic, uneven pavements and smells. For whatever reason, I also feel the vibrancy in spite of my afternoon sojourn.
For some reason, the government of Canada wanted to see an official piece of paper from the government of Thailand saying how much money they took in taxes from me. Getting this piece of paper was almost impossible if not for a persistent Thai friend who ran from one office to the other getting the run around. Finally, we got the paper, in Thai, of course, and I am sure I will be fighting with the Revenue department for years over this. However, the Seder to-night and the experience this afternoon made me feel right at home!
I do want to go to a Seder tomorrow night in Hanoi, where I am heading, but the Internet is unclear where this will be. Let's see if I can find it with a little help from my Vietnamese friends.
When I walked into the hotel, it was, at first blush, exactly what I expected, with all of the 'alta kuckers 'sitting around in their wheel chairs and wigs. In fact, it could easily have been Baycrest. The rabbi came over and greeted everyone by name and he was so genuinely warm it was a pleasure. I think in all there was about 150 people and my table was probably a microcosim of who was there.
We had the obligatory Israeli family with the two wild kids climbing over each other for the food and matza. Two tourists ( Cohen) from the United States who just flew in this morning and had to tell us about all of the court cases he had won for the chabad over the past millennium. Beside me was a doctor of a pharmaceutical company who told me he achieved his legacy while he was still alive by creating a herbal remedy for hormonal imbalance that cured everything from cancer to wrinkles and the guy on my other side with the Thai girlfriend was an American businessman who retired in Bangkok and drives everywhere with his motorcycle and girlfriend in tow, I suppose.
When I asked the research doctor why he settled in Bangkok ,of all of the cities in the world he could have gone two, he told me that the city has such vibrancy he would never want to leave and fell in love with it from the first day he arrived fifteen years ago. When I explained this to Gerry or Daniel, they do not understand when all they see is the traffic, uneven pavements and smells. For whatever reason, I also feel the vibrancy in spite of my afternoon sojourn.
For some reason, the government of Canada wanted to see an official piece of paper from the government of Thailand saying how much money they took in taxes from me. Getting this piece of paper was almost impossible if not for a persistent Thai friend who ran from one office to the other getting the run around. Finally, we got the paper, in Thai, of course, and I am sure I will be fighting with the Revenue department for years over this. However, the Seder to-night and the experience this afternoon made me feel right at home!
I do want to go to a Seder tomorrow night in Hanoi, where I am heading, but the Internet is unclear where this will be. Let's see if I can find it with a little help from my Vietnamese friends.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Mandalay...and now you know the other side of the story
I leaned over the sink to brush my teeth with my tie on (I know, what an idiot) and water splashed all over my tie. After it dried (about 30 seconds), there was an ugly jagged line running at the edge of the water mark. When I asked my secretary at school how to get the line out, she told me to just wash it out with a bit of soap…it was only dust. In other words, when the water splashed on my tie it cleaned off a week’s worth of dust and the remaining line was the detritus remaining. It was only then that I started to think about how dusty Mandalay is. I can’t imagine how filthy the rest of my clothes are. Thank goodness I generally don’t notice these things, until now!
When I looked at the bottom of my feet, I seem to have indelible dirt marks. Whenever you visit a pagoda in Mandalay, it is obligatory to take off your shoes and socks. It would be convenient to do so at the entrance of the pagoda, but what you usually do is take off your shoes in the car, walk over some dusty filthy road filled with pebbles that cut your feet, then walk on burning hot tiles permanently etching your feet in a mosaic of filth. It is sort of humorous watching the monks and tourists high stepping over the hot spots like cockroaches scurrying to a meal.
Coming back from the Internet café the other night (which is a story in itself), I took a bicycle rickshaw ‘thingy’ which frankly was very comfortable and nice, until cars and trucks passed by belching their black smoke from the exhaust and practically killing me. I did try to hold my breath until I got to the oasis of my hotel, but 30 minutes was a little too long not to breath. I can’t imagine what damage these fumes are doing to my health and the health of the millions of bicycle drivers who, if they are not killed by a car, suffer an equal chance of a slow painful death from exhaust fumes…or heat exhaustion.
Buses, which are more like the old Volkswagen vans, are filled literally to the rafters with people. They sit in all of the seats, climb to the roof with their goods and hang off the back of the bus. I noticed the other day that at the back of the bus there were people standing interspersed with people sitting at the back edge, I suppose like they pack sardines in a can to make more room.
The Internet, when it is working, at best is blocked by the government which does not allow sites such as blogspot, yahoo, hotmail and so on. However, this week it is hardly the best as they are working on some submarine cable, they say in a notice. I would presume there are important things happening in Myanmar this week that the government does not want to get out, even though God knows they could leave the Internet working and by the time the news got out it would be irrelevant to anyone anyway because the Internet is so damn slow. I wish there was a newspaper I could read to find out what is happening of world concern but there are no newspapers in English, even at my fancy hotel in Mandalay.
When I spoke to a colleague at lunch today, I asked him why he did not like working at night. “I can’t” he said. “Why not,” I said. He responded that the electricity is turned off at night and citizens in ordinary homes to not have access to light unless they have a generator (which is a great source of noise). When I told him how horrible I thought all this was he responded: “compared to whom?”
When I looked at the bottom of my feet, I seem to have indelible dirt marks. Whenever you visit a pagoda in Mandalay, it is obligatory to take off your shoes and socks. It would be convenient to do so at the entrance of the pagoda, but what you usually do is take off your shoes in the car, walk over some dusty filthy road filled with pebbles that cut your feet, then walk on burning hot tiles permanently etching your feet in a mosaic of filth. It is sort of humorous watching the monks and tourists high stepping over the hot spots like cockroaches scurrying to a meal.
Coming back from the Internet café the other night (which is a story in itself), I took a bicycle rickshaw ‘thingy’ which frankly was very comfortable and nice, until cars and trucks passed by belching their black smoke from the exhaust and practically killing me. I did try to hold my breath until I got to the oasis of my hotel, but 30 minutes was a little too long not to breath. I can’t imagine what damage these fumes are doing to my health and the health of the millions of bicycle drivers who, if they are not killed by a car, suffer an equal chance of a slow painful death from exhaust fumes…or heat exhaustion.
Buses, which are more like the old Volkswagen vans, are filled literally to the rafters with people. They sit in all of the seats, climb to the roof with their goods and hang off the back of the bus. I noticed the other day that at the back of the bus there were people standing interspersed with people sitting at the back edge, I suppose like they pack sardines in a can to make more room.
The Internet, when it is working, at best is blocked by the government which does not allow sites such as blogspot, yahoo, hotmail and so on. However, this week it is hardly the best as they are working on some submarine cable, they say in a notice. I would presume there are important things happening in Myanmar this week that the government does not want to get out, even though God knows they could leave the Internet working and by the time the news got out it would be irrelevant to anyone anyway because the Internet is so damn slow. I wish there was a newspaper I could read to find out what is happening of world concern but there are no newspapers in English, even at my fancy hotel in Mandalay.
When I spoke to a colleague at lunch today, I asked him why he did not like working at night. “I can’t” he said. “Why not,” I said. He responded that the electricity is turned off at night and citizens in ordinary homes to not have access to light unless they have a generator (which is a great source of noise). When I told him how horrible I thought all this was he responded: “compared to whom?”
Priviliege has it advantages
Being in a position of privilege can be quite seductive. Every morning in Mandalay, I am met at the hotel door by my driver who automatically takes my bag and puts it in his trunk. He then drives me to school and passes through the closed gate, opened only for our car, while the other hundred cars have to deposit their kids outside. As kids scramble out of the say, he drops me off precisely at my office door.
On the one hand, I want to tell the driver to let me out where everyone else is scrambling to get into school on time, but on the other hand, I do not want to disrupt his pattern. Now I must know, in my own small way, what leaders of governments and star athletes must feel like as they get everything done for them and all they have to do is show up. You can get to lose the common touch in a hurry. This, added to the fact that I give a workshop every night at the school and the teachers all tend to treat me as some sort of star. They would never dare to disagree, unfortunately .It just isn’t right… but it is seductive. I am beginning to feel as if I am entitled to these privileges because I am white and old.
Hurray for me! Yesterday, I insisted yesterday that the driver drop me off where all of the other cars are parked outside the gates and I walked in, through the gates, across the field full of kids and to my office. I high fived all of the kids, threw a few hoops and talked to some teachers. Wow, now I remember what I love in teaching. It is just plain fun!!!
Today I am playing golf with the husband of a teacher. It will be interesting to see if I pay the 15 dollars for foreigners or they let me pay the 2.50 the natives pay. Let’see.
As it turns out, I did have to pay the 15 dollars a corner. As we drove to the course, we passed rice fields with oxen plowing the muddy fields. There were homes made of ratan along the way and lots of bicycles with drivers overloaded with all sorts of materials. The course was surrounded by mountains on all sides with lots of monasteries doting the hillside. I just kind of wish they spent as much money on themselves as they do on their religion.
When we arrived, we were given an ice cold bottle of water and sunflower seeds to eat. At each three holes we had to sit down and eat all over again. Fruit, nuts, fish, drink and pork( I think). I now know the taste of freshly roasted peanuts by the way. They obviously pick them up from the ground and roast them right in the huts. They were so hot I burnt my hand. They were delicious, by the way.
As I was talking with this business man about democracy, he reminded me that democracy would not be so good for business in Myanmar. Now, at least, they know the rules of the game and it is very comfortable for them. They know how to get licenses, how much to bribe, where to get material, how to exploit labour and so on. ( They have a twelve year old maid, for example). Democracy, he pointed out, would make his life difficult.
As I was driving home in a rickshaw from the Internet café after another futile attempt to use the Internet, the driver begged me to give him $2.00 to take me about 10 miles on his bicycle. I know a driver of a horrible tuk tuk contraption would charge me $3.00. It left me wondering, in this state where no-one would put their money in a bank, if banks exist, nor get a loan from anywhere, how this poor rickshaw driver will every get enough money together to buy a tuk tuk or how the guy selling fruit at the roadside stand will ever acquire enough capital to buy a restaurant etc. I don’t know how the leap is done in North America, but I do know that these people in Myanmar will never escape the cycle of poverty.
On the one hand, I want to tell the driver to let me out where everyone else is scrambling to get into school on time, but on the other hand, I do not want to disrupt his pattern. Now I must know, in my own small way, what leaders of governments and star athletes must feel like as they get everything done for them and all they have to do is show up. You can get to lose the common touch in a hurry. This, added to the fact that I give a workshop every night at the school and the teachers all tend to treat me as some sort of star. They would never dare to disagree, unfortunately .It just isn’t right… but it is seductive. I am beginning to feel as if I am entitled to these privileges because I am white and old.
Hurray for me! Yesterday, I insisted yesterday that the driver drop me off where all of the other cars are parked outside the gates and I walked in, through the gates, across the field full of kids and to my office. I high fived all of the kids, threw a few hoops and talked to some teachers. Wow, now I remember what I love in teaching. It is just plain fun!!!
Today I am playing golf with the husband of a teacher. It will be interesting to see if I pay the 15 dollars for foreigners or they let me pay the 2.50 the natives pay. Let’see.
As it turns out, I did have to pay the 15 dollars a corner. As we drove to the course, we passed rice fields with oxen plowing the muddy fields. There were homes made of ratan along the way and lots of bicycles with drivers overloaded with all sorts of materials. The course was surrounded by mountains on all sides with lots of monasteries doting the hillside. I just kind of wish they spent as much money on themselves as they do on their religion.
When we arrived, we were given an ice cold bottle of water and sunflower seeds to eat. At each three holes we had to sit down and eat all over again. Fruit, nuts, fish, drink and pork( I think). I now know the taste of freshly roasted peanuts by the way. They obviously pick them up from the ground and roast them right in the huts. They were so hot I burnt my hand. They were delicious, by the way.
As I was talking with this business man about democracy, he reminded me that democracy would not be so good for business in Myanmar. Now, at least, they know the rules of the game and it is very comfortable for them. They know how to get licenses, how much to bribe, where to get material, how to exploit labour and so on. ( They have a twelve year old maid, for example). Democracy, he pointed out, would make his life difficult.
As I was driving home in a rickshaw from the Internet café after another futile attempt to use the Internet, the driver begged me to give him $2.00 to take me about 10 miles on his bicycle. I know a driver of a horrible tuk tuk contraption would charge me $3.00. It left me wondering, in this state where no-one would put their money in a bank, if banks exist, nor get a loan from anywhere, how this poor rickshaw driver will every get enough money together to buy a tuk tuk or how the guy selling fruit at the roadside stand will ever acquire enough capital to buy a restaurant etc. I don’t know how the leap is done in North America, but I do know that these people in Myanmar will never escape the cycle of poverty.
Sunday in Migun
As is my usual wont on Sundays in Myanmar, I hired UJoe the taxi driver, invited Nyai Nyai the registrar, as a tour guide and brought along a German professor from the Goethe institute I met in the hotel to explore Mandalay with me. We started in the south end of town visiting with a bronze statue maker and then moved on to the marionette maker. What impressed me most about these two shops was the pride they took in carrying out their family business from generation to generation. At the Buddha factory, the owner not only took hours showing us the process but then brought out books of statues he made and delivered to such placed as Paris. His father taught him as he is teaching his son. At the marionette store, the father was coaching his daughter, an economics student at the university and his son, a high school graduate, to carry on his tradition. In Canada if you want to insure your store or factory closes, just suggest your kids take over!The marionette guy, by the way, told me he sold most of his product to Thailand, specifically the night market at Chang Mai and the Chatachuk market in Bangkok, in case anyone thought they were buying Thai originals. In fact, they are even marked “made in Thailand”on the foot of the marionettes, he told us, when they get to Thailand. When we asked if he felt badly about this, he pointed to his wallet and said something like “what do I care”.
The hard work and dedication of people to a job is truly remarkable. We also went to an Old Folks Home in Migun, a very big deal since most adults live with their children until they pass away. These old people have to be really desperate to live here, yet the nurse told us she lived
and worked here for the past twenty-five years and her patients were her family, her parents and her children. I am not sure I have met such a dedicated person before and I could not get over her infectious smile.In Myanmar, whenever you visit a Pagoda, you have to take off both your shoes and socks. What do you think it felt like walking up about 100 stairs of jagged rock with bare feet in blistering heat? You are right!. As Josh probably remembers, the kids who try to sell you “stuff” all the way up to the peak speak a million languages and can say; “it is not that expensive” in Myanmar, German, French, English and Thai. They are so cute I could not resist giving them money even though I had no interest in buying their product. I just hope I did not offend them.
Yesterday, I put out a “Friday bulletin” at school telling about the comings and goings of teachers, congratulating kids who did well and so on. A Myanmar teacher reminded me afterwards that writing such things as welcoming back a teacher who just had a baby might not be appreciated. At the same time, a Pilipino teacher asked why she was not mentioned again emphasizing to me the cultural differences even in one school where we have foreign teachers from different parts of the world.
So, what did I learn? As usual, one really has to be sensitive to different cultural mores and only eat peanuts that are roasted.What????!!!!
Ya, had some peanuts in Migun which I had and almost spit out. Did you ever taste a boiled peanut?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
