Elephant Company - Reflections on a Book

I'm sitting in a hotel room in the United States writing this blog about reading a book set in Burma before and during WWII and thinking about my past year Malaysia and an upcoming cycle tour of SE Asia. The book, Elephant Company by Vicki Constantine Croke, is the perfect way to relax. This book is about James Howard Williams, a British war hero who worked with elephants in the teak business in Burma, recognized their intelligence, communicated with them, and used them successfully for the Allies during WWII.

Being able to relate to a book enhances it's enjoyment and my experiences in Malaysia are no exception. The descriptions of Jim Walker's expatriate experiences, his observations and anecdotes about elephants, and the impact of the jungle setting on work and life capture eloquently capture some of the feelings I've had.

Although Jim traveled many years before wifi and Boeing 777 Dreamliners, he did leave behind his family and friends for work in a post in the jungle. The description of the bland tins of British food carried by the elephants to the remote posts to sustain the British workers until their next trip home reminds me of the trips to Cold Storage or Ampang grocers in KL for canned chili beans and stale tortilla chips. Eventually, Jim soon discovers that the local food is much better than canned rations and hires a local cook to prepare gourmet meals.  Yes, on occasion, I've hired a cook to teach me to cook and yes, given a choice, I generally prefer the local cuisine at the restaurants to a can of chili beans.

Another reason I like this book is the elephants. My one 30 minute elephant ride was enough to "hook me" on a love for these giant creatures. I laughed my entire ride as the elephant snorted, blew hot air - kisses perhaps? -, ruffled his ears, and was, I thought, was especially fond of me and had a great sense of humor.  Before reading this book, I thought I'd projected these feelings on "my elephant", but after reading this book, I think the elephant really did "like me."

The descriptions of living in the jungle with it's heat, humidity, monsoon rains, mud, canopy of thick green vegetation, hills, roots, snakes and bugs, is easy to comprehend. Although we don't live "in the jungle" in a temporary house made of bamboo,  we have done enough hiking through dense, dark jungle trails, and biking in the heat, humidity and rain that I could relate to the struggles of the teak workers and soldiers. One thing that I'm glad I've never had to do it march to India as a war refugee for thousands of kilometers through the jungle and heat to escape Japanese soldiers nipping at my heels.

In conclusion, if you live, or think of living, in SE Asia, if you like non-fiction books with a hero and elephants, and/or  if you like reading about World War II, I highly recommend this book.

Ten Course Chinese Meal

We were recently invited to celebrate the 70th birthday of a grandfather and the 45th wedding anniversary of the same man's marriage. Although I had never met either of the grandparents, I'm never one to say "no" to a party/cultural experience especially when I teach three of his grandchildren.

At precisely 7:00 pm - we were exactly on time -  on Sunday night we arrived at an already-almost-full large banquet hall. 6 tables across by 12 tables deep by 10 guests per table means the four sons forked out a lot of money for this party. At the opposite end of the hall was a large stage with drums, a large keyboard, microphones and stands, and a giant picture of the guests of honor in their happily-married-for-45-years smiles.

We took our seats near the back with the other teachers from the school. Small talk and eating peanuts with chopsticks(easier for Eric than for me) occupied our time for only a few minutes, when the  master of ceremonies, a young women in a pale yellow dress, fitted at the waist, with a full skirt reminiscent of a 1950's frock minus the cashmere cardigan, completed with white patent leather shoes, welcomed us in Chinese.

The emcee then directed our attention to the back of the large hall, fanfare music began blaring on the loudspeaker. We all stood and clapped as the beaming couple processed down the center aisle, followed by the entourage of  four sons and their spouses and a gaggle of grandchildren. It was all quite formal and extravagant.

The first speaker was a national parliamentarian representing Kampung Jering, the name of this village, in Kuala Lumpur.

In answer to my question, yes, this event will be in the newspaper.

After a long Christian prayer in Chinese and a digital photo show on the large screen, the night's entertainment and a steady stream of food began. There was singing and classical Chinese dancing by the grandchildren, singing by the eldest son with the lyrics posted on the screen telling about how thankful he was for being born, having his diaper changed, and all the financial and spiritual support from his parents - all very showy and over-the-top from my perspective -  more dancing , more singing, and the presentation of large financial gifts on behalf of the parents from the sons to many local charities - I think there were at least 5 poster-sized checks and photos of the formal acceptances by the charities

In the middle of all this entertainment was food. Lots of it. Here are the courses I remember:

1. Fish soup
2. A large steaming bowl of fish- some I recognized like shrimp, scallops, sea cucumber (yes,can you believe I know this one, now) and cat fish. And much I don't recognize and probably don't want to know.
3. BBQ pork and steamed rice buns - I like this!
4. Stir fried vegetables.
5. A yam flavored birthday cake. Eric stabbed a piece with his chopstick and we shared it thinking this was the end of the meal.
6. Rice wine soup.
7. Whole steamed catfish (or some kind of freshwater fish that feeds in places I don't want to think about.)
8. Red bean soup that is purple and sweet.
9. Flaky thin pastry that tasted kind of like an apple strudel.
10. Ok, so I've lost count. Does the endless refills of beer count as a course?

Eric's non-existent-until-tonight Buddha belly had taken shape over his waste band, and I was silently applauding myself for wearing my Malaysian batik shapeless, non-binding tent dress.

We were thankful that the tradition of the number of courses of a traditional Chinese banquet has shrunk from 14 courses to tonight's 10.

And we were thankful that we got to attend such an event that, by Chinese culture, is required for 50th, 60th, 70th and up birthdays, and funded by the adult children.

Chicken Cutting Service

Bet the security guards got a laugh at me taking the photo!

It's Friday and I'm a little tired after a week of school.

 (Did I mention that there are no planning or prep periods?)

 Anyway, as I dragged myself into the grocery store on the way home with no shopping plan besides a hope that something "fresh" looking (and smelling) would jump out at me and say "Cook me," this poster appeared before my eyes.

At first glance I didn't absorb the words and kept trudging on towards the cash machine. Malaysian Ringletless (RM), I was hoping (and praying) that the ATM would be dispensing cash so I could go back to the store and find that special "something" for dinner.

A couple of seconds later, the words on the poster registered in my tired brain.

 Whole Chicken - Without Head or Feet - Cutting Service.

A smile tugged at my cheeks and I started chuckling. This simple poster, most likely never to be seen in the US, defines so many things...

- a culture where the words "whole chicken" really does mean the entire chicken including the head and feet.
- a hypermarket (local word for supermarket) that is trying to attract and keep foreign customers by removing the parts of the chicken that we consider extremely unappetizing.
- a "cutting service" where we can choose a "whole" chicken (without the head or feet today, of course) from a pile of ice and ask that it be chopped up with a meat cleaver into pieces of equal size complete with chunks of bone, slivers of wings, or pieces of backbone all conveniently and quickly chopped to be about the same size.

Anyway, getting back to the chicken feet....

Interestingly enough, chicken feet are a real delicacy over here (some students have even told me it's their favorite meal), so I'm guessing that this "Whole Chicken Cut Up" advertising promotion is a win-win for foreigners and locals alike.

The locals can enjoy the tasty crunch, crunch of the feet and claws, while the foreigners can savor the fat and calories of the legs, thighs and breasts.

I'm wondering, however, who gets to enjoy head. Come to think of it, maybe that really was a chicken beak floating in my noodles and broth a few weeks ago...

Bottom line - the poster helped me to end the week with a smile.

Evaluating my First Netball Season

My first official season coaching has just ended. I've learned a lot about netball, a game I'd never seen before our first game at Sports Day in KL. Coaching was a great experience, but an honest evaluation of "lessons learned" will remind me what to do in the future should another coaching opportunity ever arise...

Here are some things that players just had to learn the hard way...

1) Wear shoes (or flip flops, as a bare minimum) to run on the grass field. All my talking did not have an impact, but dog poop squishing between their toes at the last practice hopefully did.

2) Cut finger nails and remove their jewelry BEFORE the game. My English isn't understood but a referee's  sending girls in search of nail clippers and watching their bibs be given to the non-starters 30 seconds before the start is.

3) Demonstrate the "No substitutions until the end of the quarter" rule.  Next time I need to explain that it doesn't mean that players can walk off the court, stand on the side, keep their bib,  and watch the other six players hustle because they are tired.

4) Tell captains that they are not the coaches during the game. Even though I'd asked the captains to help analyse the players and positions during practice,  it doesn't mean they can walk up to a usually-good-but-super-jet-lagged-player and exchange bibs with them in the middle of a quarter. After all, I wanted to feel needed as the coach.

On the positive side, here are some things I did OK and would probably repeat next year...

1) Tell the players that they can only say positive words and not criticize their teammates during the game. They girls got the immediate benefit of this rule when they saw and heard one of the other coaches call her players "stupid idiots" with some Bahasa swear words sprinkled in. My players felt bad for the other girls.

2) Tell the players they will probably make some mistakes because nobody is perfect, but that they shouldn't focus on the mistakes. Instead, they should take a mental photo of the things they do well and just keep repeating them. I think our goal attack really got this message. Her shot percentage was 75%  scoring 3 of our 4 goals.

3) Remind players to have fun. I think they did. Look at the smiles on their faces after their first win...

Shopping for Net Ball Uniforms

In one week, the school's netball team will play its first game. For most of the girls it will be their first sports competition of any kind. For me, it represents my first coaching experience and the first netball game I've ever seen. What better way to celebrate so many firsts than to send the team captain in search of our first uniform.

The team captain had pre-selected some Nike T90 shirts with a splash of purple - they noticed that I like purple-,  lots of red - to make the principal happy and match the boys' basketball team- and a little black- to coordinate nicely with their PE shorts. In other words, she had made a thoughtful selection and wanted my approval which I happily gave.

So...after school we drove to the Lumut waterfront where there are many great super-low-priced tourist shops selling everything from Bill-a-Bong surfer shorts and Malaysian batik sarongs, to Nike and Adidas sports apparel and flip flops (see blog post titled barefoot basketball and why shoes are overrated).

After determining that the store had enough stock to meet our demand, the team captain negotiated a price. I was impressed. She spoke Malay. She verified his math on a piece of paper. She confirmed that everything was accurate. We paid... RM12.00 per shirt..(about $3.50 for a genuine, fake Nike team jersey.)

The team captain then took the shirts to a screen printing shop to have the school name printed on the back. She texted me later saying the price is the same for an A4 sheet of paper (about 1 inch longer than all the paper we use in the US) no matter how many letters and did we want to put numbers on the back as well. I replied sure and asked if the girls have their "lucky" numbers and can she get all that? She happily obliged and asked if I wanted a number. I kindly said "no thank you". (The whole "lucky number" thing is so complicated I'm afraid that I would choose an "unlucky" number and then be really embarrassed, so I figure no number is better than an "unlucky" number.)

So now our team has its first uniform, and it fits my first motto of competition.

If we look good, we'll play good.

Cultural Differences at School

At parent conferences today I was asked, "How's our daughter's personality?"

I paused before answering. I really like this student. In my eyes, she's hard working, self-motivated, driven, personable, confident, intelligent, and assertive.

On the other hand, one of my colleagues, a female Chinese teacher, recently remarked that this student is too aggressive. She is too confident. She should be more submissive to the teacher.

Here's how I began my answer:

"From my American background, my cultural perspective, she is...(see above).

I then went on to explain - these are not native speakers- that "assertive"- acting in one's own best interest without denying other's theirs- is a good thing in my mind. She asks questions, she wants knowledge, she wants success. "Aggressive" - ready or likely to attack or confront - has a negative connotation (outside of sports). Their daughter has friends and does not step on other toes to get what she wants.

I wish more students here were "assertive."

The parents seemed satisfied.

To be honest, this student seems so "normal" from my experience with 14 year old American teenage girls that I'd never even given her much additional thought.

But I realize if the parents desire a  submissive, passive, daughter in order to "fit" into a culture, they may need to have a "family meeting."

A Few Fenders Bent

Today there was a small car accident near my school.

The accident occurred near a very busy group of shop-lots - a strip mall with out the glitz, glamour, planning or parking -  where traffic never goes faster than about 10 kph because cars are double-parked, pedestrians are weaving in and out of the parked cars and motorcycles and bicycles come and go in all directions. I was fairly confident it was a fender bender with no injuries.

Because the road was blocked, I was starting to plan an exit route that involved driving the wrong way down a one-way street. (not actually that uncommon)

Just then, I noticed that one of the cars was starting to roll backwards away from the crash. Standing beside the car was a grey-haired man who was pushing his little Proton Saga (appropriately named and the national car of Malaysia with the power of my bicycle) from the right, passenger door window. As the car picked up momentum, the grey haired man started running beside the car. The car rolled little faster, the man ran a little harder. The car cleared the blocked intersection, the man was now chasing the car.  It was at this point that I realized the grey-haired man was the driver of the car. But, he wasn't driving. He was still running behind  the car (well, actually in front of the car because the car was rolling backwards.)

Here's a question for you. How are the Proton Saga and the Google Self-Driving car the same?

A. They are both small.

How are they different?

A. One needs a driver.

I thought to myself, "This should be interesting...."

The car, still rolling backwards, made a swerve to the right. Perhaps in his effort to try and stop his own car, the driver had grabbed the steering wheel thus causing the car to veer off its original course.

I started chuckling to myself. "This doesn't look good."

At this point, the rear bumper of the car grazed the first of four parked motorcycles. The first, a large, blue, heavy looking motorcycle, slowly teetered into the next smaller motorcycle which, in turn, teetered into another, and another just like slow motion dominoes.

The car rolled a few more feet until it was finally stopped by the curb. The grey-haired man eventually caught up with his car. The last motorcycle was  teetered to its resting place on the front bumper of the parked car it had fallen upon, and the four motorcycles were resting on top of each other like newborn puppies nestled against their mom.

I was imagining swearing,  yelling, pointing of fingers, "OMG how could I be so stupid?", sirens, something.

But nothing happened.

Everyone was calm and quiet.

Sunstroke?

Shock?

Common place?

I was still laughing out loud.

Then, as if nothing had happened, (think: Steve Martin playing the Pink Panther) the grey-haired man calmly got in his car, closed the door, started the engine, and drove away. A couple of male by-standers strained to picked up the motorcycles and then brushed them off as if nothing had happened.

I can hear it now. (Well, I can't actually hear the Malay but here is my translated version..)

Wife - "How was your day, dear?"
Husband - "Oh, you know. The usual. I had a little fender bender. I forgot that I shouldn't push my own car unless someone is actually in the driver's seat. Luckily, our little Saga still runs. Hope those motorcycles are OK. What's for dinner?"

By now the car in front of me was gingerly making its way past the original crashed car, still blocking most of the left lane.I followed as if this were the most normal daily occurrence I'd ever witnessed.

If only I'd captured it on video...It'd go viral.

My Own Happiness Project

I've been reading a book called The Happiness Project: Or why I Spent a Year Trying to Sing in the Morning by Gretchen Rubin. Here are a few things that I like about this book:. 1) The conversations she has with herself mimic conversations I've had with myself 2) The  ideas that she proposes to tackle in the quest for happiness sound familiar. 3) The and ideas and musings about just what happiness is and how to achieve it seem pretty straight forward.

Having lived overseas for almost three years now (gasp...has it really been that long?!) has been a continual test of and challenge to my happiness. As a matter of fact, as I've written before, life overseas tends towards the extremes: really happy for, appreciative of, and growing from this amazing opportunity to really annoyed with, sick of, just wanting to get away from this taxing experience. That being said, I probably should start my own personal happiness project, but even if I don't here's what I've been thinking about today....


Conversations
In chapter two Gretchen sets some goals to work on her marriage and in Chapter six to make more time for friends. I have some of these same goals (especially on the days or hours I'm reading her chapters with those ideas...). For example, I did all kinds of little special things for my husband this weekend for Father's Day from serving wine in his favorite juice glass (instead of a long stemmed wine glass), to planning a new bike route and making homemade baked beans for dinner. I made some effort to connects with some local friends for trips to the beach and to new restaurants. All of these activities made me happy.

I laughed because, unfortunately,  Gretchen and I have the same problems with these goals. For example, she talks about wanting a "gold star" or some kind of positive acknowledgement from her husband that he's noticed all the special things she's done for him during her focus on the marriage month. I laughed out loud, because I also want the "gold star" of approval. Unlike Gretchen, I make no bones about asking. Just yesterday, I must have asked about 15 times my husband if he liked the special Father's Day bike ride and food I'd planned. As a matter of fact, I'm not even happy with just one gold star. I want my star chart to have the most out of everyone!

And chapter six's make time for friends really struck a chord. When Gretchen made a goal to learn all of her friends' birth dates and put them on a nice computer program that reminds her to send a card, she is showing her friends that she cares. I would like this goal. I would probably feel happy if I had this goal. In fact,  I have a great friend who does exactly this. She remembers birthdays, anniversaries, stressful tests, and vacation dates for all her friends. Unfortunately, I can't even remember my own birthday, let alone everyone else s. I like her goal but I think the embarrassment of asking friends once again for their  birth dates might outweigh any happiness I would feel at the organization of knowing those dates. Until then, thank God for Facebook birthday reminders...

Ideas for Happiness
Here are some ideas mentioned in Gretchen's book:
1. Start a blog - check! - I can honestly say it makes me happy to write. I don't feel like it's a chore. I hope, one day, I'll look back and think: Wow! I was happy in Malaysia. I was happy in Turkey. I know I am happy when I'm writing.

2. Boost Energy - check and not check! Getting exercise and sleep are not problem. I make it a priority to do both of them.
On the other hand, toss, restore, and organize are not going so well. The thing is, I think I can toss almost everything we've collected over here. But, I've fallen into some of my old traps: 1) piles and notebooks full of cool lessons and projects that I've created for my students. I should scan and toss, but that seems too tedious and boring. 2) fabric - the sewer in me thinks all these nice batiks I've collected will be fun quilting projects and sewing projects one day. But, I'm not sure my passion is still sewing ) keyboard and music - I love to play and still play 4-5 times per week. However, thinking about getting the piano home saps my energy.

3) Be serious about play - check and not check! Here's problem. Our "play" weekends (Saturday at 6:30 pm until Sunday at 8:00 pm) are serious fun. We plan time for cycling to new and interesting places, and we plan time to boost more energy with a long afternoon nap or a trip to the movie theater. The problem is, the more we get serious about play, the less energy we have to be serious about work.

4) Aim Higher at work - not check!  Gretchen says, "Enthusiasm is more important to mastery than innate ability, it turns out, because the single most important element in developing an expertise is your willingness to practice." Challenge and novelty are important for happiness. I have neither challenge nor novelty at work. I would rather come home and write a blog and look at the piles of workbooks on the coffee table, rather than just "get it done" and give my full attention to grading as I would have in the past.

Ideas about Happiness
Honestly, I was never that interested in philosophy. As a matter of fact, I would say philosophy 101 did not "make me happy" but rather made me feel "intelligent" because I was now one of the millions of students who  paid thousands of dollars to get the opportunity to contemplate the meaning of life over pitchers of 3.2 beer.
Therefore, I skim read through all the philosophers Gretchen mentioned until she got to some I could relate to: novelists Ann Patchett and Ian McEwan, and all-around interesting guy, Benjamin Franklin.

But seriously, what have any of these people got to do with my happiness or what happiness is? Probably nothing.

Like Gretchen, I'm basically a very happy person...except when I'm not...and then I'm an unhappy person and I like to wallow in my unhappiness and be toxic to everyone around me....So, I got a chuckle when Gretchen's goal is to "act happy." I've made that my goal many times. ("Act enthusiastic and you'll be enthusiastic" repeat and repeat ad nauseum.. ..clap, clap)

Take being a teacher, for example. When I shut my car door and walk to the front of the school every morning, I pull a smile out of my pocket (I keep two smiles in there...one for me and one for a student who might be feeling blue). Sometimes my smiles works, and the extra smile in my pocket almost always brings a laugh, followed by a floodgate of tears if the student is female and 14.

In other words, I know how to "act happy" and I can "act happy." Even better, I know more what "makes" me happy - a benefit of getting older, I think.  Therefore, I can focus my happiness project into action items to "delete" chores that do not make me happy and detract from those things that make me happy.

Writing today's blog made me happy and added clarity to my happiness project. I'll keep you posted...








  

Johor, Malaysia to Bintan, Indonesia - 4 Day Bicycle Tour

Indonesian Rhinos

Many thanks go to Emilien Di Gennaro for planning this trip and to both he and his wife Xinhan for being such great hosts. (Emilien and Xinhan recently spent 2 years biking around the world so they have lots of experience.) Not having to do any planning or decision making was a vacation in itself!!

The trip was a great introduction to cycle touring for us and we learned a lot from our hosts: stopping often to take photos, stopping to try local foods, buying drinks and ice cream and resting in the shade often; checking our bikes as luggage on the ferry; going off road and on road to explore new trails; planning routes; using maps and navigating.

Our meeting point in Singapore

Mountain biking in Singapore

Day 1 - Johor, Malaysia to Singapore. (40 -50 km) Eric and I parked our car in Johor. Then we hopped on our bikes and followed signs to Woodlands being careful to stay in the motorcycle lane to cross the border. We had to show our passports twice and complete a Singapore entrance form in the rain. (note to self - get a better system for passports and a pen) We were lucky enough to be met by Emilien at the intersection of Mandai and Mandai Lake Roads in Singapore. He showed us some beautiful mountain bike trails through the parks and green spaces of Singapore on our way downtown. We arrived near the  near Clarke Quay where we me up with Xinhan and enjoyed dinner along the river. Then we continued on the bike paths (called the park connectors) across Marina Bay stopping in key places to enjoy the beautiful nighttime Singapore skyline.We continued biking to the area called Joo Chiat to spend the night.

Singapore skyline at night

Mosquito net - romance or safety?

Day 2 - Singapore to Bintan Island, Indonesia - (75 - 130 km depending upon the route) We woke up early and cycled along East Coast Park to Tanah Merah Ferry Terminal.- Singapore. We took the Bintan Island Resort Ferry to Bandar Bentan Telani Ferry Terminal - Indonesia. This is a fast ferry that takes about 1 hour and, because there is a time change (1 hour earlier in Indonesia), we arrived  at about the same time we left Singapore. We cycled across the island  through lots of rolling hills and quiet farmland to the east coast.  The last 10 kilometers were flat and beautiful only the coast. We stayed at the Marjoly Beach Resort. (www.marjolybeach.com) where we enjoyed a quite cabin on the beach and delicious food at the hotel restaurant. Peaceful and beautiful.

View from beach cabin

Day 3 - Bintan, Indonesia to Singapore - (75 -130km) -  We took about  about 6 hours to cycle back to the ferry terminal. We had a tail wind most of the way so the hills did not seem as bad as the first day. (Eric might disagree..) Enroute we found a small, family run restaurant where we enjoyed fresh, homemade soup. We repeated the ferry ride home and cycled along the East Coast trail back to food and lodging in Singapore.

Indonesian fishing village

Day 4 - Singapore to Johor, Malaysia - (40-50 km) - Our goal was to use the park connectors to ride as far north as possible, but after arriving at our 2nd huge overpass and deciding we did not want to lug our loaded bikes up and over another overpass we rerouted to continue our journey along roads. Luckily, the farther north in Singapore we got, the better the roads got, and often there was a bike path/sidewalk on the side. We followed the signs for Johor or the Causeway again using the motorcycle lane to cross the border.

Fermented rice - high alcohol content :)

Resting on an overpass

 Ice Cream bar and Spongebob.

The trip, I think, gave us a dose of some of the realities of bike touring. In other words, it wasn't all sunshine, flat roads, and tail winds. The ride started in the pouring rain. The standing water and splashing from passing trucks can be scary. But, in my opinion, the rain in SE Asia is a good thing because the weather is so much cooler. Riding on Bintan Island was quite hilly and our legs got pretty tired. We'll need to find some more hills to train on, or schedule shorter rides in the beginning of our tour until our legs get in shape. And, we'll need to seek shelter and shade during the mid-day heat. The heat has been, and continues to be, a real energy drainer for Eric, even though Double Espresso Magnum Ice Cream bars and Gator-aid type drinks do help!

Meal after the trip back to Johor

We're looking forward to our next trip but especially want to thank veteran bikers Emilien and Xinhan for making this trip possible!

A Family Restaurant in Indonesia

One of the highlights of our recent bicycle tour of Bintam Island, Indonesia, was stopping at a roadside restaurant for food and an escape from the mid-day sun. Not having seen many restaurants along this fairly hilly, quiet country road, and an emphatic "I need to stop right now" from one of our riders, made the decision easy.

Enjoying hot chicken soup and cold iced tea

The restaurant is a slab of concrete with a roof made of rough cut logs and held up by a wood railing around the side. There were five tables covered with plastic table cloths surrounded by light blue plastic chairs. An old, small TV was buzzing in the background.

Stopping at roadside restaurants used to make me nervous, but not so much any more. As a matter of fact, I knew we would be safe eating here because someone (I'm guessing the wife) had carefully placed pots of flowers and green plants in front of the restaurant making the entire covered shelter seem like a lovely little oasis from the sun. 

We walked in the door and said hello. We were met with a smile and a blank stare. The mid-thirtyish age mother wearing a long, flowered dress and a short bob style hair cut looked to the one patron sipping his soup as if to cue him to translate. This man, a truck driver who has stopped for lunch - My mom always taught me that truck drivers know good restaurants! -  spoke to us in English. "This restaurant serves chicken soup and did we want "nasi" or "mee"?" (Rice or noodles) he said.

Now, I don't know about you, but I've always associated hot chicken soup with cold winter days or healing food for colds or the flu.

A de-fanged snake makes a great playmate.

But here was the setting: We had been cycling up and down rolling and steep hills for about three hours. The sun was high in the sky and fry-an-egg-on-the-pavement hot. Sweat was dripping off our elbows, pouring into our eyes, and squishing the pads of our bicycle shorts. We were hot, tired and hungry. But most of all we were hungry. Whatever you've got sounds just fine.

While sipping sweet ice tea and waiting for our food, we had a chance to observe the family business. Mom was in the kitchen cooking over the traditional two burner, counter top, gas stove. The son, a shy, young 6 year old boy was playing with a snake, which, the truck driver informed us, had been de-fanged so it was safe to play with. Did I want to touch it?!

The daughter, a cute, intelligent  girl of about 11 was helping her mom serve between watching the soap opera on the TV and checking out her brother's snake.  Dad was down the hill in the garden weeding, pulling carrots and potatoes, and slitting the neck of an occasional chicken (for our soup - we think...).

I was struck by the simplicity, yet completeness of life for this family. They had a small plot of land, plenty of chickens and vegetables, a roof over their heads, and happy, healthy children.

A few minutes later, the mom and daughter served our steaming bowls of homemade chicken vegetable soup with a side plate of rice. I never knew how delicious hot soup from just picked and just plucked ingredients on a steaming hot day could taste!

Witnessed on a Saturday

Today started with a visit from the Jehovah Witnesses. I was outside watering our hibiscus tree when two nicely dressed Chinese couples carrying large golf umbrellas to protect themselves from the midday heat, stopped ouside our gate and gave me a nice, glossy, eye-catching brochure with article titles like this: "Do Jehovah witnesses believe in Jesus?"and "Ways to Reduce Stress." I thanked them politely and kept watering. 

For lunch Eric and I stumbled upon a "halal" dim sum restaurant. It wasn't until we'd dug into the first of what I'd thought was a BBQ pork bun, that my brain noticed the other diners. We were surrounded by women wearing brightly covered headscarves. My first thought was, "Do these women eat pork?" (Traditional Dim sum is very Chinese and very much filled with pork). So while Eric was telling me something about work,I lost my concentration in search of the answer to my question. And, sure enough just a above the kitchen door was the tell-tale black and white "halal" sign printed in Arabic and English.  I smiled to myself. Here was a smart businessman (or woman). By using "the other white meat" (chicken), he (or she) has increased potential customers by 70%. Adding clean toilets and soap in the bathrooms justified the higher than normal ex-pat prices! Smart, tasty, clean and halal. Great business plan.

After dropping Eric off for a 1:00 pm doctor's appointment, I was excited to explore a beautiful, clean, air conditioned Clark's Shoe Store. The pair of hippie, backpacker Birkenstocks I bought last summer - and have worn every day since - are showing their age. A brief survey of the store yielded four potential, made-for-function-and comfort styles to try on. I told the sales clerk my size: US9 or European 40. I even air wrote the numbers with my pointer finger to help with the comprehension.

A few minutes later,  two clerks came back with one pair of shoes in hand. They then returned the other three pairs to the shelf. I happily slipped on the first pair. Something felt wrong. My toes curled off the front and my heels hung off the back. Had my feet swelled this much in one year?! Is this what living in a "flip-flop" country does to my middle aged feet? I pulled off the shoes and checked the size.  Size 7 was printed in bold numbers on the back. Pheww! My feet hadn't grown. Most likely, the clerk misunderstood me. I repeated,  "I need a 9." He replied, "Yes. We don't have. We only have this one pair."
So, you thought you'd just bring out any old pair, and I'll buy it because it's a Clark?

But then I got to speculating: Perhaps this is another interesting business model. Take the free sample/floor models and see how many you can actually sell.Don't actually have any stock because that would cost money. You won't make a lot but you certainly won't loose anything.

Disappointed, but not surprised, I left the shop. Hopefully these hippie sandals will last until my next trip back to the US.

By now it was 2:00 pm and Eric was still waiting for his 1:00 pm appointment. The door was locked and the receptionists who could buzz me in was nowhere in sight. The over- full waiting room of patients seemed to get humor at my inability to get buzzed in so I took off for a walk.

The walk ended up being a good thing because I found a gorgeous fabric store! Here's a "shout out" to my mom and high school friend Cindy, both of whom would have added piles to their fabric stashes. Unfortunately for me, I was annoyed by the seven sales clerks glued to me like flies on flypaper and blocking my ability to view and touch the gorgeous silks and cottons. I know one day I'll regret not buying the beautiful raw silks at $7.50/meter for decorating our imaginary, dream retirement home, but I couldn't stand the invasion of my space bubble.

By now it was 3:10 pm and Eric, very much annoyed, had just been called into the dermatologist's office for his 1:00 pm appointment. It appears that Saturdays are busy days for Botox and skin whitening treatments, and  that an appointment is not really an appointment. The receptionist then proceeded to close most of the metal garage doors on the shop front making it almost too dark for me to type. 

About 3:45 Eric came out. On the bright side, he said the doctor was very professional and typed all her notes on a very large iPad. Contrast that with the nurse who following Eric to the payment counter with the medical billing codes inked in big black letters on the palm of her hand.

I wonder if the day would have turned out differently if I'd invited the Jehovah witnesses in for a cup of tea?

Buying a Dishwasher

"I have some bad news..." was the start of yesterday's email from our property manager back home. I could have guessed bad news before even opening the email because mid-month notes from her at 6:30 a.m. our time - mid day for her - seldom (never?)  mean anything but. Eric was racing out the door for another hectic, crazy day at his job. I was looking a the piles of papers that I'd procrastinated grading last night because, quite frankly, these activity/workbooks are about the most boring things I've graded in my entire teaching career, and wondering if I could slog through them in the next 30 minutes before I raced out the door. Our property manager's email filled with details of water, gunk and pump/repair costs for a 13 year old dryer were the icing on the cake for an already stress-filled morning.

We both looked at each other and agreed that we did not want to repair the dinosaur. We also knew that we didn't have time at that exact moment to research what we wanted. I quickly dashed off an email. "Please do not repair the dishwasher. Can you ask the tenants to give us the day to research new dishwashers and to please be patient? We'll give an answer by the end of today.."

I kissed Eric goodbye after he promised to do a little research on new dishwashers. I don't really care that much about dishwashers except that they work and that  match our appliances. (He swears our appliances are black. I swear they're white. Can you believe we can't even remember what color they are?!)

Then I walked into our Malaysian kitchen, looked at the stack of last night's dirty dishes resting on the stove top -there's no room for anything on the counter top- and counted my blessings that the ants had not found the pork chop bones and crumbs of baked potatoes left from last night. I began to fill the electric tea pot with water to boil for my dish water. In the meantime, I filled the second sink with cold water and a tablespoon of bleach for a sanitary, Girl Scout-approved rinse.

At this moment I started laughing. Here was the perfect example of trying to balance two cultures. In the first, our "native" culture I was imagining a frazzled mom with screaming young children, a dog barking, and an overflowing dishwasher. In an effort to be good landlords we immediately felt the need to take care of house problems promptly hoping for responsible tenants in return. Contrast that with our "adopted" culture. Our kitchen is typical of expat housing in a  "developing nation".  No machine, no hot water. The only dishwasher I can visualize is myself (or Eric if I've got the flu or dengue fever.) Sure, we could purchase a dishwasher ourselves. But, I would have to put it in the bathroom next to the washing machine and I'm not sure that would really buy us anything except more headaches.

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy for our tenants.  I hope they love the shiny, clean, quiet new dishwasher. I know I would. And, when I get back to the States, I'm going to enjoy having a dishwasher. That way, I'll have a choice: hand wash when there are only a couple of items or open a door, load em dirty like the commercials, add soap and go.

My New Favorite Past Time - Building a School Library

Recently I've become addicted to going to the grocery store. I'd like to say it's because I like to cook, but unfortunately that's not the reason. As a matter of fact, I'm often teased for how I quickly I race through the store with the sole mission of finding the simplest products for the quickest, nutritional meal possible. No, the real reason I've become addicted to the store is my attraction to the used book tables near the school supplies at the back.

For some reason, about a month ago, our supermarket started carrying used books. Some of the books feel dusty, smell musty, and look like the tossed off remains of  ex patriot workers who, in a frenzy to lighten their load before the movers came and and told them they'd exceeded their 1000 lb air freight allowance, dumped their books somewhere. (Reselling books seems like the work of an enterprising trash collector or housekeeper) Titles like World Cup 1984  complete with pictures of footballers wearing shorts that barely covered their cheek bums and How to Raise and Care for a Chinchilla -who would wear a mink coat here? -  were not worth the additional $5000 shipping to airfreight the books back home.

Other books appear to be bookstore "slow sellers" and publisher "seconds". Take the  How My Body Works - The Joints and Tendons (Vol. 38) which seemed like a good idea until I discovered the pages were glued upside down into the book. I know that, for some of the students, reading the words in any direction is about the same - hard, boring, and seemingly impossible, but in good conscience, I want to give them the "best" possible way to have success in their reading so proper page placement seems like a "minimum" requirement.

Sprinkled in the grocery store mix are Malaysian publishers trying to translate, copy or perjure foreign authors in the interest of "cheap profit." These books make me crazy for several reasons, including because they are translated just like they talk. For example, Cinderella might say, "Prince charming. I go back now. Ok la?" (which means "Time to go home!" and Prince Charming might reply, "Can, Can." (Which means "Ok", not the Parisian dance or dancers).

But, back to my new addiction. I feel like my "calling", my "vocation", my "legacy" is to build an English library at this new school. It began with my last trip to the United States, an empty suitcase, $50, and a trip to the Wheaton Regional Library. Seventy-five books later, a bulging 49.99 lb. bag and a heavy, book-laden knapsack that took up my "under the seat in front of me" legroom for the flight back, I had the start to a library.

Unfortunately, with a student body of 60 students ranging in age from 7-17, my heavy loads worked out to just over one book per student and only about 18 inches of shelf space in the school "library." Trying to meet the varying needs and English proficiency levels of these students was tough. In other words, I'd made a good start but barely made a dent in the number of volumes, especially if "reading in English" is a required part of the day.

So, the recent "bonus" of a "used books" section at the library has been like a slice of heaven to this ex-pat who enjoys nothing better than a quiet afternoon sipping coffee and perusing books at Barnes and Nobles.  BTW - I think I'll cry if they're gone by the time I get back to the States!..

Anyway, the first week alone I found about 35 books. I found picture books, Newberry award winners, original language classics, fairly current - year 2000 and newer- non-fiction, and lots of picture books based on movies (not the greatest but at least the kids are "reading.")

Each week the pile gets smaller and the choice more limited, but like rocks in a yard, just when I think I've found everything I can,  new books float to the surface. A sample of today's gems: Great Civilizations: Aztecs and Incas AD 1300-1532, ( mean seriously...does the copyright date really matter on things that happened 3000-6000 years ago?) a graphic novel called The Last of the Mohicans,  Scott O'Dell's Sing Down the Moon, and Where's Waldo. (yea...a book for non-readers to pretend like they're reading)

My goal is to try and find about 350 books or seven books per student. In the meantime time, visiting the "used book" department at the grocery store is providing hours of pleasure and relaxation.

N.B. We have lots of room for guests and you all are invited...Bring a swim suit, wear flip flops, and "check" a bag of books...I'll be your grateful tour guide!

Why Do We Need Hand Soap?

Today I asked the principal if it would be possible to buy some soap for the bathrooms. It didn't seem like a big request.  I know  we didn't have any at the old school. But, we're at a new-to us- school. And, the bathrooms at the new facility are a big improvement from before with eight stalls instead of two including toilet paper for the past two weeks...a record. So, why not start something "new"?! Clean hands....

Back to the conversation....
Me: Could we get some soap for the bathrooms?
Principal: Soap?
Me: Yeah. soap..you know..for washing hands..
Him: Oh...(thoughtful pause) soap.
I could see him processing...expensive? unnecessary? no other schools have it? I couldn't read his mind.

Me: Yeah..you know the students here are taught in their social studies books that hand washing is important for personal hygiene. And, I bought two bottles of hand soap last week.  But it won't last long. And, you know MERS is now in Malaysia.
Him: MERS?
Me: Yes,  ...Middle East Respiratory Syndrome... you know... that so-far-extremely-fatal disease that is affecting people who go to Saudi Arabia on the Haj? (Thinking to myself...I just read the WHO along with the American CDC are training health care providers to take special precautions...maybe that means putting "soap" in the hospitals.. And, if , for no other good reason, just buy some because this is a Christian school.) And, students have colds...soap and hand washing go hand in hand...(ha,ha...little joke about a not-so-funny topic).. Could we get some soap?
Him: OK...(translates in Chinese to the secretary to put soap on the shopping list)
Secretary: Why do we need soap?

Me: (!@#$%^%^ ... but thinking now I have her attention and his). Yes, soap. Oh, and by the way... Could we make a bottle of 1% bleach water.  You know..Some very cheap disinfectant? Very easy to make..Yesterday, I had to clean up a bunch of blood in my classroom. Don't know how it got there... (Which is actually a lie. I saw the cut on the principals knuckle and am pretty sure it was his...)Anyway, a student pointed it out And, kids are kids, and they get bloody noses and stuff..and, you know blood is a bio-hazard. And, with students coming from around the world...Well, you just never know...HIV, Hepatitis A,B, and C, a common cold... Could we make some bleach water?
Him: OK. ..(translates to the secretary to buy a squirt bottle.)
Secretary: Is this for the student's hands?
Me:Really?...I'm an English teacher with a business degree and I know this stuff..I'm not a science major..Really? Really? No, it's for cleaning. Hand soap for hand. Bleach water for blood on "things."


Note to self..there may be some lingering confusion between hand soap and disinfectant. Just hope neither bottle looks like MILO, the oval-tine type national drink or we might have to call poison control..Another bad assumption...probably is no poison control...

Seriously, I could end this blog post now, but you need to know what questions bubbled through my head on the drive home.

1. Is there definitive research that shows the amount of bacteria that is removed when using soap versus just water?
2. Could I "google" a science experiment that would teach me how to make the gelatin in a petri dish, and then take swabs from student hands before and after washing to "show" not "tell"?
3. Am I being unreasonable?


Here are the quick answers to my 20 second search...
1. http://globalhandwashing.org/
Apparently my lack of hand washing problem is quite common in Kenya, China, Pakistan,...the list is quite long. And, there has been lots of research...

My big take-away is that, yes, students who have better hand hygiene grow taller and have fewer gut problems. And, hand washing campaigns at school general are more effective than publicity to the general public. I guess you really can't "teach an old dog new tricks."

2. Yes, I learned how to make the substance to grow micro-organisms in a petri dish, and I watched a video with a hand washing experiment with an outcome exactly as I predicted.
On a side note...too bad Turkey banned YouTube..They could also use some hand washing and science experiment "how-to" videos.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bUS-WiucbE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hK_26rOzeE4

3. Rather than use the term "unreasonble",  I prefer to think I'm providing the medium to experiment and learn. Don't take my word for it. Don't just write "true" or "false" because the book says so. (kind of an outpouring from yesterday's post.) Let's do an experiment! Let's learn! Let's wash our hands and live longer! Hurray!

Reflections on Teaching in Malaysia

I've been helping out at a school for about six months. I'm past the "honeymoon stage" where I loved everything about the position: happy, respectful, "on-task" students. I've moved into the "mid-year blues" where the second half of the term looms ahead like a long, dark tunnel with no pin pick of light shining through to guide the way. It probably doesn't help too much that my American teacher friends and family are posting end-of-year project results, talking about field trips, enjoying concerts, and posting prom pictures signalling the start of a 2 1/2 month break from school.

In addition to the fact that school is NOT ending anytime soon, I'm in the "critical examination" stage which confirms that first impressions were deceiving. Pretending I'm looking through a microscope, here's really what I'm seeing:

Student Type #1 - I'll called these the highly-motivated-by-completing-tasks students.   To achieve these the high number of tasks, the students race through and fail their first test attempts. Then they take the second tests, and because there is no averaging of grades or penalty for trying a second time, their much improved grade on the second test gives the appearance they are "stellar" students. The top of these "task completers" are rewarded with a McDonald's lunch at the end of the month.

One of the little games I play with these students is trying to catch them at skipping any writing assignments that are sprinkled in their books and then refusing to grade any more of their books and/or giving them permission to take tests until they complete the writing assignments. They avoid writing like the plague because a)It takes too much time and b) It requires some creativity and imagination - not strong character trait over here. I know writing is important. I know they need to write to pass their "high stakes" tests. I know writing will improve their literacy and speaking. Unfortunately, this school is set up to reward completion of tasks that are easy to "grade", and writing does not have a place in the "system."

Spot checking also confirms that most of the students in this group have no idea what they have learned and how to apply it. They are basically good at regurgitating or memorizing the paragraphs of words they have copied from the answer keys but can't apply it to other types of assignments or classes.

Student Type #2 -I'll call these students the not-motivated-by-adult-imposed-tasks students. (some might call them "un-motivated" but it's more complicated than that). These students generally plod along, taking naps when needed, staring into space, and making time for a couple of games of cards or ping pong matches once their "minimal" (according to adult standards) targets have been met. These students pass the tests at about the same rate as Type #1 but they just take many fewer tests. What I like about this group is that they are interesting. They have hobbies. They have things to talk about. They can communicate even if they can't be bothered with grammar. But, again, with this "grading on completed tasks" system, they look like poor students.

Spot checking this group also confirms that they may not totally grasp what they've learned but they can throw out a couple of vocabulary words that indicate the general idea (even though it's not verbatim) what the answer key says.

So, why have I got the mid-term blues? I think it's the fact that I don't feel adequate in this position. I feel that the skills I am good at are underutilized, and the clerk-type checking of targets and marking every blank space in a workbook are incredibly boring.

I can't get excited for the Type 1 students who receive kudos and hamburgers at the end of each month, because I know that very few passed anything on the first try and I know they don't really understand. The emphasis on task completion is at odds with learning.

And, I feel sad about the Type 2 students. I feel like I'm more successful helping guide in their learning, but there are no tangible rewards for them.

As a result, I spent the weekend preparing a bulletin board with conversation games, idioms, self-quizzes, and places to showcase writing. It may not solve myt internal conflict between perception and reality, but it did ignite my creative side and uplift my mood.

Making Easter Special in Malaysia

Each activity over the past few days deserves a post of it's own, but time dictates a brief summary instead...Hopefully, one day I'll be able to remember enough to recreate the memories in more detail.

Elizabeth O'Connor

Thursday night - We are "Warmshower" hosts - couch surfing for bicycles riders - and we hosted Elizabeth, a really interesting English cyclist who has been on the road solo for one year. I so enjoyed her company that we stayed up until almost midnight chatting about her adventures. (And, if you're wondering if she's had any troubles being solo female rider, the answer is "not really." But she did have a similar Lumut pervert experience - like mine and I was NOT alone but with Eric - just minutes before arriving at our house.) So...solo or accompanied, there are just some stupid male perverts out there.

Brunch group

Friday - I invited some friends to "Hop on Over for an Easter Brunch". We enjoyed lots of spring type foods including yummy egg dishes, blueberry muffins and fresh berry salad (amazing that we could find them over here.) Then we decorated Easter baskets and filled them with jelly beans (another surprising find). It's amazing what some dried flowers, ribbon, tissue paper and tiny baskets can become.

Looking from the ferry to Pangkor Island

Saturday - Eric and I took a two-loop bike ride around hilly Pankgor Island. If you want the definition of "hilly", at least 4 of the road signs say 10% grade. And, if you want to understand just how "hilly" 10% is, I fell going up one of the hills because I couldn't shift into a low enough gear and un-clip from my pedals fast enough to avoid a slow speed fall onto the pavement still attached to my bike. (This was my first hill ride on my new road bike and I'm definitely more accustomed to my low geared mountain bike.)

On the bright side, we ended the day trying a new restaurant on the beach and enjoying a beautiful sunset.

Riders - rev your engines!

Sunday - Eric and I attended our first church service in Sitiawan, a village near Lumut. The service was in Chinese but we understood "A-men" (accent on the second syllable) and Je Su (put them together and you'll understand, too.) Luckily, the principal of the school where I teach, sat behind us and translated.

 The title of the sermon "Man - Complete only by Woman."  I learned that Eric is not a "complete" man without me and I should "build his confidence" and "not criticize him in public". ( I think this is a fairly literal translation of the Bible from a Chinese cultural perspective.)  So, to improve my wifely skills, I told Eric that he was a "great motorcycle driver" on the ensuing church-sponsored 100km motorcyle ride. I was "so relaxed and enjoying all the scenery" while he was "working so hard to avoid potholes and other obsticles." I even gave him neck and shoulder messages at the intersections near the end because 150 cc's of power for 100 km at 100 degrees with 100% humidity is very exhausting.

bean farming between palm trees

sorting the fish

Shrimp cracker

Before I close, I should mention the cool sites on the ride: meeting the young farmer of a temporary (2 year) farm planted between rows of palm trees before the trees get too big, block the sun and are harvested for palm oil; watching the dock workers unload a deep sea fishing boat that had just returned full of fish; tasting my first shrimp crackers - a fried concoction filled with tiny shrimp (shells still on) and munching happily on this crunchy, fattening, but addicting like potato chips, treat.

All in all , it was a great Easter and one that won't easily be forgotten.

How Much We Don't Know

Recently,  I was helping a 17 year old student "get into" the book The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom. In other words,we were reading the first chapter together. This student's native language is Chinese so the vocabulary, sentence structure, and long descriptions make the first chapter of this extremely difficult.

I was asking her some questions about Hitler, Nazi Germany, and the Holocaust and was was met with blank stares. At first I thought we were having vocabulary issues for words like "camps", Jews, "kill", but as I continued with questions, I realized she understood the words, but had no knowledge of the actual history regarding WWII and the Holocaust. I was surprised. I remember reading The Diary of Anne Frank in 8th grade, and from today's research, just learned has been translated into 70 languages and published in more than 60 countries including places like Thailand, Malaysia's neighbor to the north,  China, ancestral home of many of my students, and Turkey, also predominately Muslim and, as such, discounting my idea that maybe Muslim countries did not read about the Holocaust.

Her innocence regarding the Holocaust got me wondering...

Is this a taboo topic because it demonstrates the worst evil in mankind and parents want to shelter their children from these horrors for as long as possible?

Are these students so focused on math and science that they do not have time for the subjects of history or social studies?

Are there other world atrocities of more relevance to them of which I have no knowledge? 

After a night's pondering about this student's lack of background on the Holocaust, I asked the principal if I'd understood her correctly or if maybe there was a word (or words) in Chinese that would help clarify the subject. He said "no" and that I'd understood the situation correctly. Nazi Germany and anything about the extermination of Jews is not taught in the public school Malaysian curriculum. Students have little knowledge of WWII besides the Japanese Occupation of Malaya. He suggested the reason is because of the establishment of Israel and Muslim hatred of the Israels for "stealing land from the Palestinians" and, because this is a predominately Muslim country, the Holocaust is not taught.

His statement "stealing land from the Palestinians" got my attention and made me delve deeper. I'm the first to admit that I know very little about the establishment of Israel after WWII.  A quick "Google" search yielded far more information that I could digest in a couple of  hours (that's how long I got side-tracked)..I tried to discount sites that appeared biased with hidden agendas and hoped to just find just facts...much easier said than done. Words and themes like Zionist Movement, establishment of a Jewish State, British setting up the government, displaced Palestinians, Israel as largest recipient of US foreign aid, sanctions, wars, power, and money (aren't the last two always at the root of all evil??) In other words, many wrongs don't lead up to many rights...

What my brief research did was reinforce my love of and hunger for reading books like The Hiding Place and The Diary of Anne Frank  because they teach hope and courage and bravery in the face of evil and despair. Reading gives the freedom and flexibility to broaden and deepen an understanding of the world in order, one would hope, to make good/moral decisions.

Most importantly, this little detour into "why" has made me less shocked by what my student did not know and even more shocked by what I don't.

I guess that's what we call "learning from our students."

Signs of Sewing and Quilting in Malaysia

3D Quilt on Display at Mall Quilt Show

Yesterday, I was stuck at a traffic light for a long time (8 changes of the light.)While glancing out the side window  I noticed a sewing machine repair shop.

This particular shop lot -  a row of old Chinese shops on the ground floor with storage or the owner living upstairs - caught my attention not because of bright displays of gleaming, new computerized sewing machines, or beautiful fabrics lining the walls, or posters displaying all the creative possibilities a machine can create. On the contrary, this old repair shop probably hasn't seen a coat of paint since the 1930's. There were no lights turned on. And there was not an ounce of fabric nor a single customer to be seen.  As a matter of fact, it was hard to distinguish this sewing machine repair shop from the motorcycle repair shop next door. Both shared the same dirt, grime, grease and darkness so typical of these old rows of shop.

What this shop did have, on the other hand, was about 10 Singer treadle sewing machines. The black, elegant American-made machines with the distinctive gold letters, standing proudly in their original, hardwood sewing tables, were scattered in front of this dingy shop. In various states of repair, I couldn't tell if  these machines had been tossed outside to show customers the shop was open, or waiting for a visit from "Antiques Roadshow".  How these machines made their way to Malaysia is beyond me, but if I were a decorator or a collector, this shop had some "good deals."

The Singer machines made me think of my mom. She still has her Singer machine which still works.  I learned to sew on her Singer: pulling the wheel with my right hand, pedaling the treadle with both feet, guiding the fabric with my left.

A green light and honking traffic startled me out of my reminiscing. I drove on to the grocery store at our new and  modern mall. Walking through the center court of the mall, I was greeting by a huge surprise to me - a quilt show. I was shocked having never seen quilt fabric, women sewing or  crafts. As a matter of fact, the one fabric store in town that I've been to has a football-field full of rolls of polyester and a couple of Japanese cottons thrown in - No notions. No scissors. No thread. As a matter of fact,  I've been trying to figure out how anyone sews over here. The best thing I could gather was that they just wrap the cloth around them about 20 times and then sling the end of their shoulder like a sari. Or, they take the fabric to a tailor. (2 suits for RM50.)

Christmas Tree Quilt complete with blinking lights.

But, back to the quilt show. Not only were there quilts for all seasons, including a blinking Christmas tree quilt, Halloween pumpkins and Chinese calligraphy, there were women demonstrating machine quilting techniques on their new Janome sewing machines. One friendly women  invited me to sit down and have a lesson.

The lesson was more to demonstrate the features of her electronic sewing machine,  but I was more interested in her supplies.


"Where do you buy your fabric? Where do you buy your thread, mats and cutters?" I gushed.
She smiled and said, "At our shop. You can come take a class."

I wish I could read the Chinese!

"Do you have a business card? Where are you located? Are you open on Sunday?"
"No business card. But here's our web site."
(A website? Amazing. Very few businesses in our town - I've found none actually- have a web site!)

Unfortunately, the shop is located in Ipoh about 1 1/2 hours from here. Fortunately, Ipoh is where Eric and I go to the movie and enjoy a meal. No reason he can't learn to enjoy quilt shops with me, too.

Seeing the Singer teadle machine and the quilt show inspired me. When I got home,  I took a piece of Malaysian batik fabric from my "stash" and made a table cloth for tonight's dinner party.

There were friendship squares from around the world.

 I was surprised to learn about quilting in Turkey, too.

Visiting Thailand - Moviestar Style

I've felt like an actress in an action film or a writer getting inspiration for a fantasy book during our recent tour of Thailand. I've pretended to be James Bond and sat on the same steps as the Wolfpack Gang. I've wondered if Frank Baum based "The Wizard of Oz" on the Grand Palace and the Temple of the Emerald Buddah.  If you want to have a Hollywood style escape from reality here are sights that are sure to please.

1) The Temple of the Emerald Buddah and The Grand Palace - This "must see" of Bangkok felt and looked like the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz. The statures of white monkeys, the emerald colored glass and gold plate adorning the sides of the temple is to the somewhat grimy and dirty Bangkok as the transformation  from black and white to color is to the movie. (The picture on the left is the Temple of the Emerald Buddah at the Grand Palace. Unfortunately my photo of the Emerald Buddah did not turn out so I substituted my photo of the Golden Buddah who is easier to photograph.)

2) The Tiger Temple - The song "Lions, and tigers, and bears, Oh my..." kept running in my head as I walked with tigers and past bears to the Tiger Temple. All I needed were some red slippers and a blue and white checkered dress. Posing for photographs with tigers - including one who starred in "The Hangover II" -  all while trying to appear calm was hard knowing that tigers have and do still attack their tamers.I did not want to die in this hot, dry, rocky, dusty Thai canyon.

3) The Elephant Village - Riding an elephant was fun. As a matter of fact it made me laugh out loud. From "Horton Hears a Who" to "The Jungle Book", I've always enjoyed reading about elephants and, more recently watching books about elephants be made into films. There are plenty of movies including one of my recent favorites: "Like Water for Elephants." The elephant I rode was named Long John Silver (a Hollywood icon even though Long John is not an elephant)  He liked being tickled behind the ears with my toes. The owner could make the elephant walk, stop, and pose for pictures, all by what seemed to be his toes. 

4) Riding Long Boats through Bangkok and to the Floating Market - We pretended we were (or would have pretended if we didn't have to wear the not-so-Hollywoodesque life jackets) James Bond from "Golden Eye" racing through the canals of Bangkok. The ride was pretty thrilling especially when our boat nearly capsized from the large wake of another boat and then rammed into the concrete edge of the canal as the long boat driver maneuvered to keep the boat upright.I didn't want to imagine swimming in the canal although some people were fishing...)

5) Evening cocktails at the Lebua Sky Bar - Exiting the hotel at the 64th floor of the Lebua Hotel, walking out to the rooftop deck,  and walking down the steps where the  hungover Wolfpack tried to remember what had happened, was MUCH better than watching the movie. The  Sky Bar appears to be suspended in mid-air among  twinkling stars, wispy clouds and blinking lights of Bangkok. 

6) The Fast Boat Ferry to Phi Phi Island -  Although we did not go to Phang Nga Bay where the 1974 James Bond film 'The Man with the Golden Gun" was filmed, we did see many islands that could have substituted for the evil lair of Scaramanga, Bond's nemesis, on our day boat trip around Ko Phi Phi. Snorkeling among the brightly colored coral and tropical fish made it easy to imagine being lulled into a life of tropical leisure while at the same time remaining vigilant to evil lurking around the next cave.

Writing this blog post from the function but not luxury (compared to what we just left) of our Bangkok Airport hotel and waiting for a return flight to reality is like the curtain going up after a great film. Although it's back to reality for us, the memories of this great "action film" will energize us until the next time.