Just wanted to drop in to apologize for my long absence, which will have to go on a bit longer after this. Nothing is particularly wrong; things have just been extremely busy at work at the moment and the Internet situation there has gone from bad to worse lately. Also, I'm approaching crunch time on my grad school applications, if only because some universities set deadlines as early as December 1 but won't even let you see their forms, much less start filling them out, until mid-September. I wonder if there's some arrogant ulterior motive behind that involving discouraging less serious applicants. But oh well.
A few tidbits from my recent life:
1. I'm finally sending out the postcards from my trip this weekend. Yes, I know I've been back for over a month. Yes, I've learned my lesson about putting off writing postcards until after the trip is over. If you don't receive one from me in the next week or two, I probably don't have your postal address. Don't be shy about updating me!
2. Trina picked up a couple of the Chronicles of Narnia books last week, having never read them before (which suprises me - they're right up her alley). This has cut down further on my blogging time, as I couldn't resist re-reading them myself. I'm a bit miffed, though, that they've resorted to numbering the books in the order in which the events in them take place rather than the order in which they were written. (I.e. "The Magician's Nephew" is now #1 rather than #6, even though it's full of references to some of the previous books which will go over the head of anyone who hasn't read those first, notably the story of how the wardrobe became enchanted.) I did at least prevail upon Trina to buy them in the "old" order. In any case, the books are just as magical as they were when I was 12. I don't think I ever actually read "The Last Battle" all the way through - I seem to recall not liking the first few chapters very much and then skipping ahead to the last chapter just to see how the saga ended. Maybe now I'll finally finish the job. I certainly hope the Harry Potter generation is reading these too!
3. A little bird told me "Magnum PI" is coming out on DVD. I'd already been thinking of buying a DVD player, now I guess I'll have to. (Compatibility is an issue, of course, but some DVDs are now universal anyway.) And no, I haven't forgotten about Tom Selleck's politics.
I'll be back on a regular basis as soon as things calm down over here! If they calm down over here.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Saturday, September 11, 2004
Leave a sinking ship behind?
When I first came to Taiwan, I fully expected the Western community here to be "an intentionally lost Lost Generation" like the one reportedly found in that book, Prague. (I say "reportedly" because I haven't read the book. It sounds like the sort of story I'd really enjoy, but I think it might also make me feel really depressed for having just missed the boat on the big early '90s expat wave in Eastern Europe. But I digress.) But it wasn't, and isn't. Most other Americans, Canadians, etc. whom I've met here are a lot like me: just interested in seeing the world as something other than a tourist, expanding our experiences, paying off debts, and making a living outside the rat race. A few of them are even trained ESL teachers - imagine that!
It didn't take me long at all to learn as much: I pretty much had it figured out after a few days of our training back in February. While the reality is more mundane than what I expected, I think it's probably better this way. It's easy to romanticize Paris In The Twenties, after all, but they say that time and place didn't earn its capitalized title until A Moveable Feast came out 40 years later - and, in the interim, its author stuck a shotgun down his throat. So much for the golden era. Anyhow, meeting all those fellow twenty- and thirtysomethings (and especially discovering that there were quite a few of us in the latter category) with their feet just as firmly on the ground as my own was a nice surprise, and it was great getting to know them. If you're a newcomer to the blog, see here for some of my past thoughts on that pleasant matter.
A bit less than seven months later, at least half of my training colleagues have left.
A few of them are still in Taiwan and working for other schools, but quite a few took off entirely. Just last week, my best friend from training joined that club. This has me rather sad, obviously. Among several other things, she was one of the first three fellow expats I met here on my very first morning in the country. The other two have been gone since summer, so she was my last link to the first chapter of my story. I haven't yet heard the whole story on why she's going home, but I had an experience of my own this week that gave me a clue - and also illustrated for me why so many of our friends have already taken off.
I recieved some welcome and very helpful advice from my branch director on how to improve my performance as a kindy teacher. The catch is that I received it in the form of a written warning, which wasn't even really presented as such, and it was in response to my doing things no one had told me were against policy until now (i.e. encouraging the kids to read when I was supposed to let them play and/or vice versa). The episode will more than likely make me a better teacher, because as I said, much of the advice was very good; but the way it was handed down was seriously out of line in my opinion.
There is good news. My job is in no immediate jeopardy, my performance appraisal with the older kids was about as good as could be, and there are plenty of other teaching gigs in the area - quite a few of which pay better anyhow. Still, for the first time in seven months, I'm feeling less than happy about my situation. It's not a welcome change. I had felt a certain loyalty to my company because, although quite a few colleagues have had bad experiences with it, the whole experience had been very good for me up to now. It still isn't too bad, but this week, combined with the sheer number of ex- colleagues I have, is enough to make me think seriously about alternatives. Sure, it's just one more year, but that can be a long time under conditions like these. It's probably just as well that I don't get too complacent anyhow, given what I've seen with my friends.
Faye, if you read this, thanks for the memories! You have my e-mail address, so don't be shy.
It didn't take me long at all to learn as much: I pretty much had it figured out after a few days of our training back in February. While the reality is more mundane than what I expected, I think it's probably better this way. It's easy to romanticize Paris In The Twenties, after all, but they say that time and place didn't earn its capitalized title until A Moveable Feast came out 40 years later - and, in the interim, its author stuck a shotgun down his throat. So much for the golden era. Anyhow, meeting all those fellow twenty- and thirtysomethings (and especially discovering that there were quite a few of us in the latter category) with their feet just as firmly on the ground as my own was a nice surprise, and it was great getting to know them. If you're a newcomer to the blog, see here for some of my past thoughts on that pleasant matter.
A bit less than seven months later, at least half of my training colleagues have left.
A few of them are still in Taiwan and working for other schools, but quite a few took off entirely. Just last week, my best friend from training joined that club. This has me rather sad, obviously. Among several other things, she was one of the first three fellow expats I met here on my very first morning in the country. The other two have been gone since summer, so she was my last link to the first chapter of my story. I haven't yet heard the whole story on why she's going home, but I had an experience of my own this week that gave me a clue - and also illustrated for me why so many of our friends have already taken off.
I recieved some welcome and very helpful advice from my branch director on how to improve my performance as a kindy teacher. The catch is that I received it in the form of a written warning, which wasn't even really presented as such, and it was in response to my doing things no one had told me were against policy until now (i.e. encouraging the kids to read when I was supposed to let them play and/or vice versa). The episode will more than likely make me a better teacher, because as I said, much of the advice was very good; but the way it was handed down was seriously out of line in my opinion.
There is good news. My job is in no immediate jeopardy, my performance appraisal with the older kids was about as good as could be, and there are plenty of other teaching gigs in the area - quite a few of which pay better anyhow. Still, for the first time in seven months, I'm feeling less than happy about my situation. It's not a welcome change. I had felt a certain loyalty to my company because, although quite a few colleagues have had bad experiences with it, the whole experience had been very good for me up to now. It still isn't too bad, but this week, combined with the sheer number of ex- colleagues I have, is enough to make me think seriously about alternatives. Sure, it's just one more year, but that can be a long time under conditions like these. It's probably just as well that I don't get too complacent anyhow, given what I've seen with my friends.
Faye, if you read this, thanks for the memories! You have my e-mail address, so don't be shy.
Thursday, September 9, 2004
Doe, a steer, a female steer
As a Westerner in a small town in Taiwan, I guess I'm bound to be treated like a celebrity now and then. Such an incident happened this past Sunday night. (I'd been meaning to discuss it here much sooner, but some all too real world issues got in the way before I could.)
The father of one of my kindy students is the conductor of Taiwan's army band. How that band came to be based in Longtan, I'm not really sure; but it's here. They gave a concert in town on Sunday evening, and all of us teachers were invited. Only three of the five of us ended up going, and it was quite the event for all of us.
The emcee (who apparently was the conductor's mother and thus little Emily's grandmother) interrupted her Chinese introduction to wish us welcome in English, and of course everyone in the modestly sized audience turned around to play Spot The Caucasians. Some of my fellow teachers don't care for that sort of thing, but it's never bothered me.
Then it was on to the concert. The army band is fond of medleys. The setlist included what was billed as a "Latin revue" which turned out to be a medley of "La Bamba," "Hot Hot Hot," "Conga" and "Livin' La Vida Loca." I must admit that one had me clapping so hard Trina had to pull my hands back from each other at one point because I was making her ears hurt. Oops. Other highlights included "Danny Boy," and even some Taiwanese music.
During the intermission, the conductor sent his oboe player to our seats to thank us again for coming, in perfect English, and then he later came by himself. I had occasion to tell him I was looking forward to hearing "76 Trombones," which was listed on the bill for the second half, as Iowa is one of the half dozen or so states that can make some claim to being home for me. He seemed quite touched by that. (Additionally, "The Music Man" played a bit part in the beginning of Trina's and my relationship: when we first started exchanging e-mails, I often closed mine with "Good night my someone, Dave." After a few times, she asked where I had heard that phrase, and was then inspired to rent the movie. Of course, there was no time to share that tidbit with my friend the conductor!)
Well, as you might expect for a local celebrity like myself, back on stage after the intermission, he dedicated "76 Trombones" to "my best friend, Dave." It's enough to move a guy to tears, y'know? The show then finished with two more medleys: one of songs from "The Sound of Music" with vocals (hence the title of this post, which was one of a couple of verbal gaffes in the performance - their English was great, but when they made a mistake, it was, well, an amusing one!), and one of disco songs. Yes, Trina and I did do the arm motions on "Y.M.C.A." I left the concert hall feeling about ten miles high.
It was the sort of scene where, when it happens in a book or a movie, you know that the zenith is about to give way to the nadir. That did in fact come perilously close to happening on Monday, astoundingly enough. But things appear to be back on track, which is why that concert will now live as a wonderful memory instead of a horribly bittersweet one. I'll probably discuss the events of this week in more detail on my next post. Right now I'm still working out what to make of it all and what exactly I want to share publicly. Suffice to say Trina and I both might be trading up to a better work situation fairly soon. In any case, things are all right for now.
And I've got one more beautiful memory to take with me to whatever comes next. Thank you for the music!
The father of one of my kindy students is the conductor of Taiwan's army band. How that band came to be based in Longtan, I'm not really sure; but it's here. They gave a concert in town on Sunday evening, and all of us teachers were invited. Only three of the five of us ended up going, and it was quite the event for all of us.
The emcee (who apparently was the conductor's mother and thus little Emily's grandmother) interrupted her Chinese introduction to wish us welcome in English, and of course everyone in the modestly sized audience turned around to play Spot The Caucasians. Some of my fellow teachers don't care for that sort of thing, but it's never bothered me.
Then it was on to the concert. The army band is fond of medleys. The setlist included what was billed as a "Latin revue" which turned out to be a medley of "La Bamba," "Hot Hot Hot," "Conga" and "Livin' La Vida Loca." I must admit that one had me clapping so hard Trina had to pull my hands back from each other at one point because I was making her ears hurt. Oops. Other highlights included "Danny Boy," and even some Taiwanese music.
During the intermission, the conductor sent his oboe player to our seats to thank us again for coming, in perfect English, and then he later came by himself. I had occasion to tell him I was looking forward to hearing "76 Trombones," which was listed on the bill for the second half, as Iowa is one of the half dozen or so states that can make some claim to being home for me. He seemed quite touched by that. (Additionally, "The Music Man" played a bit part in the beginning of Trina's and my relationship: when we first started exchanging e-mails, I often closed mine with "Good night my someone, Dave." After a few times, she asked where I had heard that phrase, and was then inspired to rent the movie. Of course, there was no time to share that tidbit with my friend the conductor!)
Well, as you might expect for a local celebrity like myself, back on stage after the intermission, he dedicated "76 Trombones" to "my best friend, Dave." It's enough to move a guy to tears, y'know? The show then finished with two more medleys: one of songs from "The Sound of Music" with vocals (hence the title of this post, which was one of a couple of verbal gaffes in the performance - their English was great, but when they made a mistake, it was, well, an amusing one!), and one of disco songs. Yes, Trina and I did do the arm motions on "Y.M.C.A." I left the concert hall feeling about ten miles high.
It was the sort of scene where, when it happens in a book or a movie, you know that the zenith is about to give way to the nadir. That did in fact come perilously close to happening on Monday, astoundingly enough. But things appear to be back on track, which is why that concert will now live as a wonderful memory instead of a horribly bittersweet one. I'll probably discuss the events of this week in more detail on my next post. Right now I'm still working out what to make of it all and what exactly I want to share publicly. Suffice to say Trina and I both might be trading up to a better work situation fairly soon. In any case, things are all right for now.
And I've got one more beautiful memory to take with me to whatever comes next. Thank you for the music!
Wednesday, September 8, 2004
Update
Regarding the purple heart band-aids I linked to below, I read yesterday that the RNC chairman ordered the distributor to desist as soon as he found out about them. Good for him. It doesn't change my view one bit with regards to the people in the pictures who obviously thought they were a wonderful idea, of course, but it is nice to learn that someone at the convention had a conscience.
Monday, September 6, 2004
New Link
I just wanted to draw everyone's attention to my link to the website about Bernard Baran. Baran is one of the (relatively) few victims of the '80s daycare sex-abuse hysteria who remain in prison today. While most of the falsely accused daycare workers were either never convicted or were exonerated at some point in the past ten years, Baran has languished in prison since 1984. There are two key differences between his case and most others like it: abuse really did occur in the case of one of the children on his watch (probably at the hands of the boy's stepfather or foster father; no evidence at all points to Baran himself), and Baran is gay.
He was convicted more or less entirely because of that second point. Indeed, his only real crime was being gay and liking children in a small town in the '80s. (The prosecutor at his trial called him a "fag" in the courtroom, among other things.) As you can see on that link, the accusations against him stemmed entirely from his efforts to help the son of a drug-addicted, abusive couple who was, not surprisingly, a troublemaker at school. This couple responded by complaining to anyone who would listen about the "dangers" of an openly gay man working at a daycare center. The boy contracted gonorrhea, and Baran immediately became the prime suspect despite conclusive proof that he'd never had the disease and a complete lack of evidence of abuse. Within five months he'd been convicted and thrown in jail for life - and immediately afterward, it emerged that the victim's mother had accused at least one boyfriend of molesting the boy. The prosecuting county's Department of Social Services was aware of this, but didn't report it to the DA's office until - conveniently enough - a few days after Baran was convicted.
Bernard Baran has been incarcerated since October 1984. He's been beaten and raped innumerable times, attempted suicide at least twice, and his case was pretty much forgotten for a long time. Gay-rights groups have tended to shy away from helping him, lest they perpetuate the stereotype of gay men as predators. The good news (relatively speaking, of course) is that a new trial motion was finally filed in June, and it looks like he'll probably get his day in court before too much longer.
There is reason to be hopeful: two other victims of the same witch hunt, Gerald Amirault and John Stoll, finally won their freedom in April. But there is a lot left to be done, and that link has plenty of information on what we can all do to help.
By the way, if you do any further Internet searches on your own about this topic, you're likely to make an unfortunate discovery. A number of right-wing "men's rights" groups have seized upon this issue as a bludgeon against feminists in particular and liberals in general, using the rather twisted logic that the disaster only happened because so many people bought into feminism's "vilification" of men and the "culture of victimhood". (This is less true in the Baran case than in most others, since people who hate feminists also tend to hate gays.) While it is true that a few prominent feminists, notably Gloria Steinem and Anna Quindlen, were indeed on the wrong side of this issue, the mouth-breathers are ignoring their own culpability, since their homophobia and opposition to daycare ("a woman's place is in the home") had as much to do with creating the hysteria as anything else did. Don't let the unfortunate association scare you off.
He was convicted more or less entirely because of that second point. Indeed, his only real crime was being gay and liking children in a small town in the '80s. (The prosecutor at his trial called him a "fag" in the courtroom, among other things.) As you can see on that link, the accusations against him stemmed entirely from his efforts to help the son of a drug-addicted, abusive couple who was, not surprisingly, a troublemaker at school. This couple responded by complaining to anyone who would listen about the "dangers" of an openly gay man working at a daycare center. The boy contracted gonorrhea, and Baran immediately became the prime suspect despite conclusive proof that he'd never had the disease and a complete lack of evidence of abuse. Within five months he'd been convicted and thrown in jail for life - and immediately afterward, it emerged that the victim's mother had accused at least one boyfriend of molesting the boy. The prosecuting county's Department of Social Services was aware of this, but didn't report it to the DA's office until - conveniently enough - a few days after Baran was convicted.
Bernard Baran has been incarcerated since October 1984. He's been beaten and raped innumerable times, attempted suicide at least twice, and his case was pretty much forgotten for a long time. Gay-rights groups have tended to shy away from helping him, lest they perpetuate the stereotype of gay men as predators. The good news (relatively speaking, of course) is that a new trial motion was finally filed in June, and it looks like he'll probably get his day in court before too much longer.
There is reason to be hopeful: two other victims of the same witch hunt, Gerald Amirault and John Stoll, finally won their freedom in April. But there is a lot left to be done, and that link has plenty of information on what we can all do to help.
By the way, if you do any further Internet searches on your own about this topic, you're likely to make an unfortunate discovery. A number of right-wing "men's rights" groups have seized upon this issue as a bludgeon against feminists in particular and liberals in general, using the rather twisted logic that the disaster only happened because so many people bought into feminism's "vilification" of men and the "culture of victimhood". (This is less true in the Baran case than in most others, since people who hate feminists also tend to hate gays.) While it is true that a few prominent feminists, notably Gloria Steinem and Anna Quindlen, were indeed on the wrong side of this issue, the mouth-breathers are ignoring their own culpability, since their homophobia and opposition to daycare ("a woman's place is in the home") had as much to do with creating the hysteria as anything else did. Don't let the unfortunate association scare you off.
Saturday, September 4, 2004
By the way
"Character does matter" my ass.
I especially like the pictures of the smiling delegates with the band-aids. It really shows just how willing they are to embrace a known lie in their support of a guy whose own war record is a bad joke. A picture's worth a thousand words!
I especially like the pictures of the smiling delegates with the band-aids. It really shows just how willing they are to embrace a known lie in their support of a guy whose own war record is a bad joke. A picture's worth a thousand words!
Schrocked - Schrocked!!
I've been meaning to put my two cents in about Congressman Schrock, the right-winger from Virginia who announced his retirement last week after being outed as a frequent patron of gay sex hotlines.
I have mixed emotions about the news, not so much as a Democrat (Schrock's seat is about as Republican as you can get no matter who the nominee is) but as a strong supporter of gay rights. Schrock has a solidly anti-gay record in the House and, like a lot of politicians of his ideological stripe, he attracted support mostly by appealing to people's bigotries. That he is gay shows that he's not only a bigot, he's also a grade-A hypocrite. While I find homophobia unacceptable no matter the source, there's something especially disgusting about it coming from someone who knows what it's like to live with the effects of that sort of hatred*. We're talking about a guy who has lived with an uncomfortable secret for 63 years, even going so far as to marry and have a child, and for the past few years he's had a job which could enable him to raise awareness of what gay-bashing and legalized bigotry can do to a person whose only "crime" is to fall in love like we all do - but instead he has used that position to further the damage and the abuse. So I don't feel much sympathy for the guy no matter what he's been through.
On the other hand, "outing" doesn't sit well with me at all. Coming to terms with one's sexuality is an awfully personal, private process, and no matter how big a jerk the guy might be, I have a hard time condoning that sort of invasion of privacy. It just ain't right. Still, we are talking about an individual who supports legal discrimination against people who do things far more pure and innocuous than what he apparently did. So let's just say my outrage is tempered. One thing's for sure: if the Liberal Media really were liberal, we'd be hearing an awful lot right now on just how full of s**t the "family values" movement really is. Schrock, of course, isn't the first or biggest example of that.
The blogger who outed Schrock says there are more to come like him. I wish I could say that bothered me. But if you're going to win power and prestige by fueling the fires of hating people* based on whom they love, I think you pretty much deserve whatever you get.
*To anyone who is thinking of giving me the "it's the sin, not the sinner" speech, please spare me. I know only too well that that's just a way of justifying hatred of a person by pretending it's something other than that.
I have mixed emotions about the news, not so much as a Democrat (Schrock's seat is about as Republican as you can get no matter who the nominee is) but as a strong supporter of gay rights. Schrock has a solidly anti-gay record in the House and, like a lot of politicians of his ideological stripe, he attracted support mostly by appealing to people's bigotries. That he is gay shows that he's not only a bigot, he's also a grade-A hypocrite. While I find homophobia unacceptable no matter the source, there's something especially disgusting about it coming from someone who knows what it's like to live with the effects of that sort of hatred*. We're talking about a guy who has lived with an uncomfortable secret for 63 years, even going so far as to marry and have a child, and for the past few years he's had a job which could enable him to raise awareness of what gay-bashing and legalized bigotry can do to a person whose only "crime" is to fall in love like we all do - but instead he has used that position to further the damage and the abuse. So I don't feel much sympathy for the guy no matter what he's been through.
On the other hand, "outing" doesn't sit well with me at all. Coming to terms with one's sexuality is an awfully personal, private process, and no matter how big a jerk the guy might be, I have a hard time condoning that sort of invasion of privacy. It just ain't right. Still, we are talking about an individual who supports legal discrimination against people who do things far more pure and innocuous than what he apparently did. So let's just say my outrage is tempered. One thing's for sure: if the Liberal Media really were liberal, we'd be hearing an awful lot right now on just how full of s**t the "family values" movement really is. Schrock, of course, isn't the first or biggest example of that.
The blogger who outed Schrock says there are more to come like him. I wish I could say that bothered me. But if you're going to win power and prestige by fueling the fires of hating people* based on whom they love, I think you pretty much deserve whatever you get.
*To anyone who is thinking of giving me the "it's the sin, not the sinner" speech, please spare me. I know only too well that that's just a way of justifying hatred of a person by pretending it's something other than that.
Wednesday, September 1, 2004
Just another s***ty day in paradise
Okay. I like adventure as much as anyone, and I know all about how that which does not kill us makes us stronger and how crises bring out the best in most people, but folks, enough is enough.
Today, we ring in seven days without running water. Our county made the front page of today's China Post as a candidate for a disaster area. (I wanted to post a link, but the article doesn't seem to be online yet.) The reason is apparently that the typhoon landed an unusually large amount of mud in our reservoir, which has made it impossible for the waterworks to purify it fast enough to serve everyone - or, apparently, anyone. I don't really see how much difference purification makes in a country where you have to boil your drinking water anyhow, but hey, what do I know?
And the "good" news? We can apparently expect to get our water back in four more days. Blogging may be light until then as I try to avoid getting cholera!
The mess has, however, brought out the best in most of my neighbors. I have been pleasantly surprised at the cooperation and courtesy I've seen at the water stations afterhours as everyone drags his or her collection of buckets up to the big tanks they've set up. Still, when the silver lining is a lack of rioting in the streets, you know things are pretty darned bad.
Today, we ring in seven days without running water. Our county made the front page of today's China Post as a candidate for a disaster area. (I wanted to post a link, but the article doesn't seem to be online yet.) The reason is apparently that the typhoon landed an unusually large amount of mud in our reservoir, which has made it impossible for the waterworks to purify it fast enough to serve everyone - or, apparently, anyone. I don't really see how much difference purification makes in a country where you have to boil your drinking water anyhow, but hey, what do I know?
And the "good" news? We can apparently expect to get our water back in four more days. Blogging may be light until then as I try to avoid getting cholera!
The mess has, however, brought out the best in most of my neighbors. I have been pleasantly surprised at the cooperation and courtesy I've seen at the water stations afterhours as everyone drags his or her collection of buckets up to the big tanks they've set up. Still, when the silver lining is a lack of rioting in the streets, you know things are pretty darned bad.
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