Yikes. It's been busy. I started working at Mukogawa this week, which has meant a whirlwind of new information to process. My orientation was last weekend and I moved most of my stuff in last Sunday. I'm now pretty well settled and have an epicly decorated bulletin board to prove it. I spent Monday through Wednesday trying to keep up with school while preparing for my group's arrival. They flew in on Thursday and since then it's been non-stop.
Actually, it's been pretty non-stop all week since, of course, everything has to happen at once. My niece's (4th!) birthday party was the same weekend as my orientation, which meant I was scrambling to get her a gift and get it wrapped etc. Then my classes just started amping up with multiple out-of-class projects and observations to juggle. And on top of it all I got sick the same day my group arrived. Not deathly ill, but I-have-a-sore-throat-and-lost-my-voice ill. Losing your voice the same week that you have to orient a group of non-native English speakers to a foreign country is less than ideal. For the last couple of days all I've been capable of is a croaky whisper. I think I'm finally regaining the use of my vocal chords, but talk about bad timing.
Today I took my group downtown. Seeing Spokane from a tourist's eyes (especially a Japanese tourist's eyes, if I may say so) really gives you a fresh appreciation for the place. Here is a normal downtown trip for me, sans Japanese students.
-drive forever looking for a parking place
-finally end up parking five blocks away from ultimate destination
-try to appreciate the walk while also trying not to be rude to the creepy people on the street
-meet friends for coffee/go to the park/whatever
Same old familiar, comfortable Spokane, appreciated, but not exciting.
Downtown trip with Japanese students
-Oh look! A squirrel! (Clicking of cameras).
-Oh look! A dog! So cute!
-Oh look! An American child! So cute! (Thankfully they refrain from taking pictures of people's pets and children.)
-Oh look! Geese! (Clicking of cameras).
-Oh look! Subway! We have Subway in Japan! (Clicking of cameras)
And that's pretty much how it went the entire time. It was the most exciting trip to downtown ever, and all we really did was walk by Riverfront park and go to the mall. Yes, we are in the honeymoon stage of culture shock. The first place we took them was Rite Aid, because it's a useful resource for them that's easily accessible from the bus plaza. Before today, Rite Aid was for me a boring convenience store. From now on I shall remember it as a wonderland of endless possibilities. I have never seen anyone get so excited at a convenience store. Let's face it, I've never seen anyone get excited about a convenience store period. But I think they could have spent an hour in there easily. I was kept busy explaining what my favorite snacks were, that the Spongebob Squarepants soap was indeed bodywash they could use in the shower, that Angry Birds is both a game and a candy, and why we sell such obscenely large bottles of wine.
When we moved on I took them past a few notable shops and down to Riverfront park. It was actually a pretty nice afternoon and I was pleased that they would have some good photos of the clocktower. I took them by my favorite coffee shop where I ran into my friend Katie (Elizabeth, be sure and ask her about this at Bible study). I introduced her to my group and of course they wanted to take our picture together. "Sure, let's have a picture!" Katie agreed. And suddenly we were faced with a wall of 12 cameras. Yep. When we arrived at the mall they again took a bunch of pictures... of... the... mall... I'm not trying to feed the stereotype that Japanese people take a ton of photos. I mean, they are traveling. I take pictures of random stuff when I'm traveling. Just maybe not quite as much.
I had them split up in the mall because we'd been attracting a lot of attention thus far. Then I took one group up to show them the Made in Washington store, which is right next to one of those big coin spirally things. Up until now I'd always thought of those as big rip-offs that essentially make you throw money into a hole. There was a little girl and her mom there though, and the mom was giving the little girl pennies to play with the thing. My group got a bigger kick out of it than the little girl did and I came to the realization that it's a fantastic way to get rid of extra pennies.
Tonight we sat in the kitchen and they taught me some Japanese games and we talked about Japanese and American culture. So I'm stressed out, and behind on my homework, and fighting a cold, and staying up way too late but days like this make it all totally worth it.
February 10, 2013
November 7, 2012
My housemates - I like them
 |
| From left to right, Katie's fiance Quinton as Robin Hood, Katie as a turtle, Pam the Pirate, and nobody's really sure what Elizabeth is supposed to be... Betty Crocker meets Laura Ingalls Wilder after a recent trip to REI? |
July 24, 2012
Summer Snapshots
Summer has been a wonderful time of relaxation and preparation. I've been hired as a seasonal employee for Cooperative Agricultural Producers and am waiting for harvest to start. I'm also gearing up for grad school at Gonzaga in the fall where (have I mentioned it in a blog post?) I'll be getting my MA in teaching English as a second language. Here's what I've been up to in the meantime.
I swore to myself that I would never take the natural beauty of the Northwest for granted again, and thus I have been trying to take advantage of the many great hikes in the area. Here's my friend Karen on a short hike near Couer d'Alene.
I've been hiking a lot with family too. Here's my sister and her fiance near Liberty Lake. My sister's engagement has been one of the big developments of the summer and we are all looking forward to her wedding in June.
My sister also went on a short visit to Mexico for the first time since her return to the States, leaving us to look after her cat. Here he is sharing the fruits of a hunting expedition with us in our kitchen. Blech.
Our annual summer book club spent some great afternoons eating pastry at "Petit Chat" bakery in Spokane, as evidenced by my friend Elizabeth here. We read Mark Twain's "The Prince and the Pauper," and tackled Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice," but mostly we just talked about life.
I've also been able to go on a couple of family trips to the lake. Here my brother is initiating my nephew into the solemn rites of lake veneration.
It's been great to spend more time with my niece. She doesn't look to thrilled at her overly-affectionate auntie, but she'll just have to deal.
July 7, 2012
A collection of ESL moments I have used as facebook status updates
(and a YouTube video)
"Today in class we are doing locations. I show my students a picture of a jail (I don' know why, it's just part of the curriculum). Me: Where is this? Students: Office."
"According to my students, bowels are very important."
"So we are studying the seasons and weather in class. I hold up a picture of a snowy landscape complete with snowman and ask, "what is this?" The students look at the snowman's broom and say, 'clean?' Which brings me to the question: why do snowmen have brooms?"
"ESL sentence for the day: Yes, I am very understand."
"ESL Question for the Day: Are you marred?"
May 16, 2012
Late Mother's Day Post
I don't usually read poetry and when I do I definitely don't understand it. Sometimes I still like it though. This is a poem by Billy Collins that I like and wanted to share. I thought it was appropriate for Mother's Day.
The Lanyard - Billy Collins
The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.
Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.
The Lanyard - Billy Collins
The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.
Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.
February 12, 2012
Job Update
I just wanted to post an update about my new job. I’ve landed a temporary part-time job as a teacher’s aide at the community college. I’m helping in a classroom of Level 1, pre-lit refugees as well as doing some tutoring on the side. It is very challenging and demanding! Things that I take for granted aren’t obvious to these students, who in some cases come to their first class day without knowing how to hold a pen. Since I’ve been hired in the middle of the quarter, it’s hard for me to gauge what they’ve accomplished and what the class is aiming for, but I'm starting to figure it out.
As I mentioned, the class consists of refugees who have been placed in Spokane. The majority of them come from Bhutan, but we also have students from Afghanistan, Iraq, Burma and Eritrea among others. I say that because class membership varies day to day. Often students have appointments or circumstances that prevent them from coming.
They are all very motivated and a delight to work with. Most of them are older, from 40 to 60 or so. One day a student told me “Teacher, go slow. Students old. Not young.” Another student was trying to give me a small gift (there are some perks to being a teacher) and finally said “I’ve been trying to give you this, but you move kinda fast.” Hm. Well this is understandable since they are all constantly asking for one-on-one help. The more advanced ones are almost worse than the newer students because they are always wanting me to check things for them. “Teacher! Teacher! Here teacher! Is correct?” I feel like their pet doggy. I am trying to learn how to prioritize their needs, but still find myself tearing around the classroom at 50 mph. I should get one of those anklets that tells you how many miles you’ve walked.
They all have funny little mannerisms that I can’t help smiling at. One of my older students has a hard time keeping up with the younger, highly motivated students in my small group. She will hold her head in her hands and sigh, “Ooohhhhhhhh, teeaaacheerrrrr, Iiiiiii dooooonn’t knooooowwww” in a high, cracked voice. It cracks me up every time. Many of them seem to be cold and not only refuse to remove their coats but also sit through class wearing some very colorful hats. One older man answers most questions addressed to the class with “no… no… yes!” reminding me of Jim from the Vicar of Dibley.
It is so strange to walk off the streets of little, whitebread Spokane into classroom filled with hats, hijabs and colorful ethnic clothing. In addition to that, half the staff seems to be Russian, which means they all sound like they could be in a James Bond movie and have awesome names like Tatiana . The other day I was eating lunch in the break room when a woman walked in and asked me in a thick Russian accent if I would like some Russian cake. As far as work environments go, it could be worse.
In addition to work, I’ve been enjoying the company of a refugee family from Burma after signing up to volunteer at a great little organization called Global Neighborhood. I like it because it’s relationship based and focuses on empowerment. In all honesty I don’t do much more than go and hang out and maybe teach them a little English. It’s a large family and I have yet to figure out how many people actually live in the house as it seems a different set of people are there every time I visit.
The last time I was there, they needed to go to the store to buy some rice. I offered to take them in my car since they only have bicycles and bus passes. We pulled into the parking lot of Spokane’s “Best Asian Market” where I felt somewhat conspicuous as I examined aisles of egg noodles, pocky and soy sauce. The oldest son, who I’ll give the generic Asian name of “Lin,” signaled that he was finished shopping and began to wheel out some puppy-chow sized bags of rice. I watched in disbelief as he heaved five 50-pound bags into my trunk. I could feel the weight of them as I drove back to their residence where he carried each one into the house, making a waist-high stack. I guess if I start to miss rice, I’ll know where to go.
As I mentioned, the class consists of refugees who have been placed in Spokane. The majority of them come from Bhutan, but we also have students from Afghanistan, Iraq, Burma and Eritrea among others. I say that because class membership varies day to day. Often students have appointments or circumstances that prevent them from coming.
They are all very motivated and a delight to work with. Most of them are older, from 40 to 60 or so. One day a student told me “Teacher, go slow. Students old. Not young.” Another student was trying to give me a small gift (there are some perks to being a teacher) and finally said “I’ve been trying to give you this, but you move kinda fast.” Hm. Well this is understandable since they are all constantly asking for one-on-one help. The more advanced ones are almost worse than the newer students because they are always wanting me to check things for them. “Teacher! Teacher! Here teacher! Is correct?” I feel like their pet doggy. I am trying to learn how to prioritize their needs, but still find myself tearing around the classroom at 50 mph. I should get one of those anklets that tells you how many miles you’ve walked.
They all have funny little mannerisms that I can’t help smiling at. One of my older students has a hard time keeping up with the younger, highly motivated students in my small group. She will hold her head in her hands and sigh, “Ooohhhhhhhh, teeaaacheerrrrr, Iiiiiii dooooonn’t knooooowwww” in a high, cracked voice. It cracks me up every time. Many of them seem to be cold and not only refuse to remove their coats but also sit through class wearing some very colorful hats. One older man answers most questions addressed to the class with “no… no… yes!” reminding me of Jim from the Vicar of Dibley.
It is so strange to walk off the streets of little, whitebread Spokane into classroom filled with hats, hijabs and colorful ethnic clothing. In addition to that, half the staff seems to be Russian, which means they all sound like they could be in a James Bond movie and have awesome names like Tatiana . The other day I was eating lunch in the break room when a woman walked in and asked me in a thick Russian accent if I would like some Russian cake. As far as work environments go, it could be worse.
In addition to work, I’ve been enjoying the company of a refugee family from Burma after signing up to volunteer at a great little organization called Global Neighborhood. I like it because it’s relationship based and focuses on empowerment. In all honesty I don’t do much more than go and hang out and maybe teach them a little English. It’s a large family and I have yet to figure out how many people actually live in the house as it seems a different set of people are there every time I visit.
The last time I was there, they needed to go to the store to buy some rice. I offered to take them in my car since they only have bicycles and bus passes. We pulled into the parking lot of Spokane’s “Best Asian Market” where I felt somewhat conspicuous as I examined aisles of egg noodles, pocky and soy sauce. The oldest son, who I’ll give the generic Asian name of “Lin,” signaled that he was finished shopping and began to wheel out some puppy-chow sized bags of rice. I watched in disbelief as he heaved five 50-pound bags into my trunk. I could feel the weight of them as I drove back to their residence where he carried each one into the house, making a waist-high stack. I guess if I start to miss rice, I’ll know where to go.
December 22, 2011
Saudi Arabia comes to Washington
I told you I wouldn’t be able to stay away for long. I am temporarily coming out of my blogging sabbatical in order to relate my latest adventures, this time right next to home.
It’s been two months since my return to the States and while I haven’t gone through much reverse culture shock, it is strange to be back. Sometimes I wake up and think I’m back in Chiang Mai and I often find myself comparing the people and places of Spokane with those of Thailand. Being home has a unique set of frustrations, even while it is providing me a chance to rest and process everything I’ve experienced. The holidays have been wonderful, although I may say they have also been a bit anticlimactic. It’s hard to explain. The holidays just aren’t the same when you’re away, but I think after looking forward to something for so long I didn’t really remember what to expect. I think part of it has to do with my state of transition. Things will feel a lot more “right” when I am more established, but for now I simply have to navigate a lot of difficult questions, both from others and myself.
That isn’t to say home isn’t everything I had hoped it would be. It has been great to see family again and reintegrate myself into their lives. I’ve also had a fantastic December what with many of my college friends coming to town to visit. I have had many enriching and encouraging conversations while visiting my favorite haunts in Spokane. There is no substitute for the friendship between individuals who know each other well. It is this fellowship that I have missed so acutely and experiencing it again is being home.
So life continues to be busy, even though I have much less on my to-do list. I have no leads on a job as of yet, but in the meantime I’ve been finding ways to volunteer or earn some spending money through babysitting (yes, really) and housesitting. Because my sister recently moved away, I am getting all of her old assignments which has been a big help. The family I am housesitting for again next month has two big dogs, two kittens, several outdoor cats, three horses, four cows and some chickens. It has actually been kind of therapeutic to be out in the country at their house and be around all these animals. I love the nature of the work and being outside. It’s just very “grounding” as one friend expressed it.
Now, the reason I’m writing this update and the source of its title is my latest odd job. Through a series of connections, I have been called upon to do some tutoring out at Eastern Washington University. I was told they have an ESL program that is booming and was expecting it to be (not unreasonably I think) a lot of Spanish speakers. But it’s not. It’s students from Saudi Arabia.
Apparently the Saudi government sponsors some of their students to come and study in the U.S. and, since it’s a great money-maker for the university, Eastern isn’t putting any limits on their program. How or why the tiny, rural town of Cheney Washington has been chosen as a study site for students from Saudi Arabia I have no idea. There certainly isn’t much to do and while I suppose it is quite the cultural exchange for them, I can’t see them integrating particularly well. Yet there it is.
My student is a 20-year-old Saudi guy who I am supposed to help with English conversation in the afternoons. He is very polite and works hard, but the job has ended up being more hassle than it’s worth because of the schedule and the fact that he is often late. Still, it has afforded some interesting opportunities to learn about his culture and to observe his reaction to American norms. He is curious about how I feel about Islam, whether or not I am married, and how much I paid for my car, among other things.
The car was really the tipping point for me deciding to blog about this little experience. After our first session, he followed me out of the library and I did my best to make small talk with him. We made our way to the parking lot where I assumed we would part ways. Instead he continued to follow me, somewhat hesitantly. When it became apparent that he was coming with me to my car I realized that he wanted me to give him a ride home. Now I know it sounds creepy as I write it, but I promise it was perfectly fine, just a bit awkward since I didn’t expect this to be part of the arrangement. Yet, being a sucker, I didn’t feel I could make him walk home in the cold (really, what was I going to say?) and so I offered him a lift.
This pattern continued the next couple of days, somewhat to my chagrin, but the tutoring arrangement is only temporary so I went along with it. However things took a turn for the ridiculous when he asked me to drop him off at Eastern’s central building. Surely this was close enough for him to walk? He kept trying to explain something to me and I couldn’t really understand what he was getting at until we pulled up to the PUB as it’s called and he flagged down two of his friends who proceeded to get into my car. Their English was quite a bit better and they thanked me profusely for giving them a ride back to their apartment, so I forgave them. But so it was that I found myself driving through Cheney Washington of all places with a carload of guys from Saudi Arabia.
Lately my student has not been asking for me to give him a ride home, which I am thankful for. I was surprised at him being okay with it in the first place. For one thing, men and women don’t approach each other at all in Saudi culture. It’s okay for me to work with a student of the opposite gender because neither of us “approached” each other, but outside of that I don’t imagine he is supposed to be spending time with me. Besides that, women aren’t even allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia. Perhaps it was the mere novelty of seeing a woman behind the wheel that was his motivation.
Anyways, the point is that I may have returned from my year abroad, but my life is definitely different from what it was before I left. One thing that hasn’t changed though is my ability to find myself in bizarre situations.
It’s been two months since my return to the States and while I haven’t gone through much reverse culture shock, it is strange to be back. Sometimes I wake up and think I’m back in Chiang Mai and I often find myself comparing the people and places of Spokane with those of Thailand. Being home has a unique set of frustrations, even while it is providing me a chance to rest and process everything I’ve experienced. The holidays have been wonderful, although I may say they have also been a bit anticlimactic. It’s hard to explain. The holidays just aren’t the same when you’re away, but I think after looking forward to something for so long I didn’t really remember what to expect. I think part of it has to do with my state of transition. Things will feel a lot more “right” when I am more established, but for now I simply have to navigate a lot of difficult questions, both from others and myself.
That isn’t to say home isn’t everything I had hoped it would be. It has been great to see family again and reintegrate myself into their lives. I’ve also had a fantastic December what with many of my college friends coming to town to visit. I have had many enriching and encouraging conversations while visiting my favorite haunts in Spokane. There is no substitute for the friendship between individuals who know each other well. It is this fellowship that I have missed so acutely and experiencing it again is being home.
So life continues to be busy, even though I have much less on my to-do list. I have no leads on a job as of yet, but in the meantime I’ve been finding ways to volunteer or earn some spending money through babysitting (yes, really) and housesitting. Because my sister recently moved away, I am getting all of her old assignments which has been a big help. The family I am housesitting for again next month has two big dogs, two kittens, several outdoor cats, three horses, four cows and some chickens. It has actually been kind of therapeutic to be out in the country at their house and be around all these animals. I love the nature of the work and being outside. It’s just very “grounding” as one friend expressed it.
Now, the reason I’m writing this update and the source of its title is my latest odd job. Through a series of connections, I have been called upon to do some tutoring out at Eastern Washington University. I was told they have an ESL program that is booming and was expecting it to be (not unreasonably I think) a lot of Spanish speakers. But it’s not. It’s students from Saudi Arabia.
Apparently the Saudi government sponsors some of their students to come and study in the U.S. and, since it’s a great money-maker for the university, Eastern isn’t putting any limits on their program. How or why the tiny, rural town of Cheney Washington has been chosen as a study site for students from Saudi Arabia I have no idea. There certainly isn’t much to do and while I suppose it is quite the cultural exchange for them, I can’t see them integrating particularly well. Yet there it is.
My student is a 20-year-old Saudi guy who I am supposed to help with English conversation in the afternoons. He is very polite and works hard, but the job has ended up being more hassle than it’s worth because of the schedule and the fact that he is often late. Still, it has afforded some interesting opportunities to learn about his culture and to observe his reaction to American norms. He is curious about how I feel about Islam, whether or not I am married, and how much I paid for my car, among other things.
The car was really the tipping point for me deciding to blog about this little experience. After our first session, he followed me out of the library and I did my best to make small talk with him. We made our way to the parking lot where I assumed we would part ways. Instead he continued to follow me, somewhat hesitantly. When it became apparent that he was coming with me to my car I realized that he wanted me to give him a ride home. Now I know it sounds creepy as I write it, but I promise it was perfectly fine, just a bit awkward since I didn’t expect this to be part of the arrangement. Yet, being a sucker, I didn’t feel I could make him walk home in the cold (really, what was I going to say?) and so I offered him a lift.
This pattern continued the next couple of days, somewhat to my chagrin, but the tutoring arrangement is only temporary so I went along with it. However things took a turn for the ridiculous when he asked me to drop him off at Eastern’s central building. Surely this was close enough for him to walk? He kept trying to explain something to me and I couldn’t really understand what he was getting at until we pulled up to the PUB as it’s called and he flagged down two of his friends who proceeded to get into my car. Their English was quite a bit better and they thanked me profusely for giving them a ride back to their apartment, so I forgave them. But so it was that I found myself driving through Cheney Washington of all places with a carload of guys from Saudi Arabia.
Lately my student has not been asking for me to give him a ride home, which I am thankful for. I was surprised at him being okay with it in the first place. For one thing, men and women don’t approach each other at all in Saudi culture. It’s okay for me to work with a student of the opposite gender because neither of us “approached” each other, but outside of that I don’t imagine he is supposed to be spending time with me. Besides that, women aren’t even allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia. Perhaps it was the mere novelty of seeing a woman behind the wheel that was his motivation.
Anyways, the point is that I may have returned from my year abroad, but my life is definitely different from what it was before I left. One thing that hasn’t changed though is my ability to find myself in bizarre situations.
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