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.