Well, our family Christmas day has come and gone, and of course it was a very special one for Mehmet and I. Here are some pictures of the day.

 

Well, this is our third day ‘home’ now, and I’ve got so much to write about! But there is shopping to be done, family to see, Christmas Day preparations to help with, a hot-tub that needs to feel wanted, table games to be played, photos to be taken, and chocolates to be eaten!

I want to tell you about our nine-hour stop-over in Japan. And how I’m SO glad we decided to meet up with my sweet friends Satoyo and Tracy, who made such efforts to come and meet us and spend the day with us. It was a perfect day in many ways, and I’m so glad Mehmet got a teeny taste of the country that was so huge in my life for two years.

And I also want to write about our trip…that 30-something-hour trip from beginning to end. And how desperately exhausted we were by the end. How our second stopover (in Vancouver) was a little nerve-wracking for Mehmet, as that’s where they would give final approval for his Permanent Residency. And about how wonderfully warm they were, welcoming him to Canada, and giving a fantastic first impression. Yay Canada Immigration!

And I don’t really want to – but feel compelled to – write about how incredibly cold we are finding it! Seriously, we were prepared for cold, but this biting wind! It’s not right. Apparently if we’d put winter clothes on instead of tropical sarongs and flip-flops, it’d be more comfortable, but I’m not buying it.

And of course I want to write about Mehmet’s adjustments. About how fun it is for me that my husband and family have finally met! And how welcoming they’ve all been to us. Babe and Mehmet have forged their friendship, and that’s crucial too, for general harmony.

There’s so much I want to write about… and so many pictures to share.

And I will. I will.

For now, a little video that my sister El sent me. She and her family had been planning for months to meet us at the airport, but the roads were closed due to a snowstorm and they were trapped at home. My niece Sophia was most disappointed; they had made welcome signs for us, and she was so excited to meet her uncle and aunt at the airport. So in lieu of the welcome, they made this video.

A word about the names they call us. When Sophia’s eldest brother was little, I was living in Korea. In Korean, ‘emo’ means ‘aunt’ (specifically the sister-of-my-mother aunt). After I told them that, they started calling me Emo. And now they call Mehmet ‘Amca’ (‘ahm-ja’), which is Turkish for ‘uncle’. Emo and Amca, that’s us!

So I leave you with this video, and will have lots of photos and updates to share soon.

The Bali pictures are now working in slideshow format, with captions. Please visit there too!

Well, for months and months I’ve been swinging between dread and excitement about finishing work, and now it’s done. Yesterday was my last day, and although I’ve still snuck a few things home to finish up, I’m officially finished.

In the last 12 years in this industry, I’ve worked at countless schools and companies, and I’ve always left with feelings of frustration and annoyance at the way things were run. This is the first time I’m leaving an organisation that has my full respect and admiration.

Our teaching centre manager (in the blue below) kindly took the management team out for lunch on my last day.

The two men on our team were out of the country, but besides them, this is the management team I work with on a day to day basis. Clare (with the baby) is the woman whose maternity leave I’ve been covering.  I’m thankful for the opportunity to work with such capable, motivated, efficient leaders, and I’ve learned a LOT over the last two years at this place!

After that it was the obligatory cake and official goodbye. Eww, I had to give a speech, but despite the discomfort, welcomed the opportunity to thank everyone.

I got some lovely gifts from the teachers…

…a Moleskin day planner, some Christmas decorations, handmade batik fabric, a fuzzy hot water bottle, a photography book, a scarf, a trivet (to hold hot pots), a pewter picture frame, and an Asian cookbook.Great things to remember them by!

I’m so glad that day is over. I’ve done the farewells so many times in my life – it seems I’m always saying goodbye – and it never gets easy. Although being able to say ’see on Facebook’ does help a bit.

And so now, with the stress of work lifted,  I can help continue to clean and organise our stuff. We leave for our Bali trip tomorrow, and then for Canada on the 20th!

Roller-coaster much?

I’m pretty much a hobo. A vagabond. A nomad. Since first heading off the farm to college in the big city 20 years ago, I’ve gotten used to packing it all in every year or so. As I lay in bed late last night I thought about how it’s just second nature now to ‘purge’ my stuff and pack to go to the next place. And then, while I should have been sleeping, I counted to myself all the moves – and in 20 years, I’ve moved 20 times! College dorms, townhouses with girlfriends in Toronto, and then Korea, back to Canada, Japan, Australia, Turkey and now Malaysia. Sometimes I lived alone, but usually with housemates.  Living overseas has often meant finding a better apartment after a few months of getting used to the city, making contacts, and knowing what to look for.

And now, we’re packing it all again (of course it’s much more enjoyable to do it with a husband)!

For the first time in my life, I’m working for a company that gives us a shipping allowance at the beginning and end of contract. This means we can ship our stuff at their expense! Our bed, dresser, wardrobe, balcony furniture, my books (yay! I don’t have to leave my books!) it’s all going. The rest of the furniture belongs to the apartment.

Unfortunately, we have to sell our appliances and electronics (the pics here) because they have different voltage then we use in Canada. Too bad – we bought them for much less than we will pay in Canada, and now we’re selling them for less than that! Ah well. It’s fun to give away things too – my plants, the water filter, lamps, all my spices, etc. There are happy takers easily found at work.

Moving is frequently cited as one of the most stressful times of life. Well it definitely is intense. Our to-do list seems to be growing instead of shrinking! I’ve got just one week left of work – it’s inconceivable. I’m not finished tying up loose ends, I’m not ready to hand it all back to the manager whose maternity leave I’ve been covering. I want it to be perfect, and it never will be. (I know, I know).

“How are you feeling?” is a question I’m asked daily at work. And of course everyone expects and understands the ‘mixed feelings’ thing, it’s more than that. It’s very positive feelings (excitement of seeing family and going to Canada for the first time in 3.5 years), and the very negative feelings (real sadness at leaving this amazing workplace, my co-workers, Malaysia, etc. coupled with the nervousness of being unemployed in a new country with no idea what’s in store for us). So yes, definitely intense.

A week from today (Sunday) we are going on our last Asia trip – Bali, Indonesia! This is a dream trip of sorts, and we really hope to wrap up almost everything before the trip. Upon our return, we have two days to say our final goodbyes – and off we go to Canada!

I figure if I go to Canada with a golden tan, I won’t get as cold. That’s sound logic, no?

A month ago I was on the website of a blogger who has created some interesting plugins that I have used on my blog. He had just written an entry encouraging his readers to head over to Geek with a Laptop , and leave a ‘laptop’ story to get a chance to win a great Slappa laptop bag.

I love contests, so of course I headed over.

Please write into the comment box at the bottom of the page  in as many words as you like, the funniest thing you have ever had to use your laptop for, or the strangest laptop/computer experience you have ever had, and we shall choose the funniest. It really is that simple.

So I thought to myself, “Self, you’re a Laptop Girl! Has anything funny ever happened with your laptops?” Well, to be honest, my most memorable incidents with laptops have not been funny. Hard drive crashes, overheating, that kind of stuff.

Then I remembered one incident. It wasn’t a funny story, but definitely something I’ll never forget. And so I got to filling up that comment box. Worth a try, right?

My story:

A number of years ago I was living in Australia. I was on my way home from work late one evening, and sitting on the subway platform with my laptop in my bag next to me. The only other person on the platform was an apparently homeless man, dirty, mumbling and casting many glances my way. “He wants my laptop” I told myself, and I held it tightly against me. Time passed and passed, the train took so long in coming.

About 20 min later I was on the train, a few stops further, when suddenly I panicked. I had forgotton my laptop on the bench at the subway stop! A kind man on the train noticed my horror and got off at the next stop with me and showed me how to call the central train office from the platform. When I called, they told me they had my laptop waiting there for me at the platform guard’s office. Wow!

I went all the way back to the original station, and the security guard said, ‘That man told us you left it, and he wanted to wait here to make sure the right person picked it up’ and they pointed to… the homeless man, still sitting there! I was so ashamed for my earlier thoughts, and went to thank him with great gratitude. In the meantime the guard told me that I should go over to the next platform – the train there was waiting for me so I wouldn’t have to wait 30 minutes for the next one.

Such fantastic service and a great memory to add to my many positive ones of Australia and Australians!

One month later, and I’d long forgotten about that contest. Then I got an e-mail in my box with the subject line: “NOT SPAM – you have won a laptop bag!”

“Dear Brenda. Congratulations , we have chosen your story as the best of the bunch , so you are the winner of a brand new slappa laptop bag! Please send me your address so I can mail the bag out to you.” I went to the website to check, and sure enough:

The thing is, it’s a GREAT laptop bag. Made with ultra strong ballistic nylon, originally used to protect soldiers from flying debris. That’ll be useful next time I go into combat.

And look, it can hold lots! Pockets, zippers, padding, whee! How good is this for a girl who always travels with her laptop?

The maker is Slappa, and they’re selling the bag for $135.

And I don’t get just the bag – I get the ‘laptop sleeve’ too. Smaller, slimmer, valued at $37.

So yeah, prize coming my way. Hey, I know it’s ‘just’ a laptop bag, but this is the second contest I’ve won this year. (Remember hopemongering?)

One day I’ll write about how I won that holiday for two in South Africa. Or the Nikon D700. You’ll see. YOU’LL SEE.

Well, the Ramadan holiday has just passed, and now it’s an Indian holiday here. (I did mention once that Malaysia has almost 20 national holidays throughout the year, didn’t I?). It’s Diwali, the Festival of Lights.

This past weekend I enjoyed looking at the coloured sand decorations at one of the fancy big shopping malls in our neighbourhood.

The first time I saw one of these was at an Indian wedding years ago – It was an amazing work of art, made even more intriguing to me by its temporary nature.

The ‘rope’ barrier around the designs were made of fragrant jasmine flowers blooms, all tied together.

So, another short work week. Here are some numbers in my mind as I start the week:

53 – number of days till we leave Malaysia for Canada

6 – number of weeks of work left

5 - number of Fridays I’m taking off by using holiday time

16 – number of days till a weekend trip north to Langkawi

37 – number of days till our final tropical holiday to Bali, Indonesia

932,094,118 – number of things whirling through my head as time rushes on

A couple days ago we bought some jasmine garlands on the street – 2MYR (70 cents) each – and our apartment smells like a flower shop!

See how all the blossoms are tied to the string?

And one more number: it’s just 58 days till Christmas! :)

It’s amazing how many different types of beauty there are when it comes to natural locations. A lush green jungle in Malaysia, a stark red desert in Australia, a hillside of multi-coloured autumn foliage in Canada… all so gorgeous in their own ways. But let’s all step into our private jets for a moment and head over to the beautiful island of Santorini, in Greece.  Isn’t this spectacular? Calm blue skies, clear water, and a quiet Greek community in the Mediterranean.

This is Oia, a much-photographed town on the island of Santorini. And Mehmet and I have been spending some time there this week.

Okay we didn’t really go, but look, we’re doing a puzzle and enjoying the view of this Greek island from the (inexpensive) comfort of our apartment. But do you notice something about the puzzle?

We’re stuck! All the blue pieces are exactly the same colour. We’ve done several puzzles with lots of sky or water, and it looks like the pieces are the same colour. But there’s always been at least a tiny difference in shade, in grain, in pixellation, etc.

It took us a couple days to do the non-sky part of the puzzle, but now it’s been sitting on our table like this for almost two weeks.

Mehmet says it helps him to look at the pieces from different angles.

But he knows he’s really just kidding himself. It doesn’t help at all.

“What do I do? Just try every piece till one fits?” And that’s what he’s been doing. But that’s no fun.

And while Mehmet struggles to put in another couple pieces each day, I just observe, take pictures, and imagine myself in my Happy Place:

(Santorini photos courtesy of Ephian and Guiseppe Finichiaro on Flickr.)

I’ve been wandering around the streets here lately with a camera, hoping to share with you a few images of our environment here. So come with me for a quick tour!

As you know, because I tell you all the time, we have a fantastic view from our apartment balcony. It’s the best thing about living where we do. We not only get a great overall sense of the city centre, but our neighbourhood too.

We live just a 20 minute walk from the famous Petronas Towers and all the hip happening life in the city centre. But near us there are still some old shop houses and delapidated apartment buildings that give our neighbourhood such charm!

Looking straight down…

Okay let’s step out onto that road below us, and look up. This is our building. We are on the 23rd floor.

Our neighbourhood has a range of apartment buildings.

There are also lots of low income housing buildings like this one. I always wonder…  When will the developers come and tear these down, and what will happen to the occupants?

This is our street. Our building is on the left behind those trees…

And this is on the other side of the street.

Next to our building is a construction site. Hotel? Apartments? We’re not sure. What we do know is that they’ve been working on the site for over three years, and progress is very very slow. The workers live inside the half constructed building – no wonder they don’t want to finish it quickly!

There are TONS of restaurants on the streets around our house. Like this Chinese one.

And this Korean one above the 7-11. Can you see the sign?

This street next to ours has many kinds of restaurants – Japanese, Brazilian, German, Russian, Italian, even a fish and chips shop…

This Iraqi place opened up recently and I think it’s a nightclub.

There are also numerous hotels in our neighbourhood. Not all tourists stay at hotels though! You can see lots of backpackers in our area.

And the less expensive places they stay.  It’s not hard to find bright, clean private rooms from about $10-$15.

A common site is foreigners getting fooled by fake Thai monks asking for alms.

One of my favourite things about our neighbourhood is the street life.There are lots of places to grab something cheap to eat.

This woman is frying and selling hot dumplings.

Here’s a quick snack or lunch on the back of a truck parked on the street – meat, fish and veggies on sticks. You cook your choices in the tin wells of boiling water, select a sauce, and bam, you’re good to go for a dollar.

Fruitstands! Here is one selling durian, Malaysia’s infamous ‘stinky’ fruit.

Coconuts!

There are several street markets near our place. Some sell cheap souveniers, some sell beautiful handicrafts and local art and some sell knock-offs! Fake brand-name bags, sunglasses, watches, etc.

All the latest DVDs burned for your illegal pleasure – $2 each. Some are on the tables here even before they get into the cinemas!

Many Malaysians are of Chinese descent, so there are lots of Buddhists in KL. There are little shrines like these on quiet street corners, in shady seclusion on the sidewalks, in private yards and homes, and in front of some public buildings.

People come and pray, light incense, and leave gifts such as fresh fruit and drinks.

KL has tons of bikes! The roads are great here, but man, there are lot of reckless drivers here, and a very high rate of accidents!

About a 7 minute walk from our building, we get to a busy district of shops, monorail, restaurants, cafes and lots of people and traffic!

It’s never quiet here!

There’s a great monorail that goes through the city centre, as well as lots of semi-reliable train lines and buses. The platforms are often mostly empty, but this was one afternoon at rush hour.

There are often street performers in this area too, like this foreign man, who was highly intriguing to onlookers.

Here some local youth are performing on drums.

A festival on our street during Chinese New Year.

You definitely see all kinds of people around here.

There’s also always a lot of people just hangin’ around not doing much of anything.

There are tons of shops – small and large – in our area.

Huge, expensive shopping centres, very attractive to the large numbers of Arab tourists that flock here in their summers.

There’s definitely lots to see in our neighbourhood. We will miss our urban Asian life when we leave here, that’s for sure!

Okay, so Mehmet and I are often hot and sweaty. I mean, it’s a tropical country and he wears just his shorts, I wear just my sarong, and in this heat and humidity, one’s back may itch more than normal. It just seems like we yelp “Scratch my back! Scratch my back!’“a lot. And yes, we do shower.

Whatever the reason for the Itchy Backs, I’ve actually been thinking that ‘up’, ‘down’, ‘left’ and ‘right’ doesn’t work. I have an itch, it needs to be scratched, I don’t have this time to waste on this inaccurate direction-giving foolishness.

So I came up with the solution. We can use a grid system!

And I am here to report that it works like a charm.

So now, instead of desperate “No, no, left, left – not right… LEFT” or “All over! All over!“, Mehmet can now calmly turn his back to me and request, ‘3a, please?’

And if you think I have no life for thinking up a way to make backscratching more efficient, I can take it. But click here to see I’m not the only one… and not the only one to come up with a grid concept either.

I grew up on a fruit farm in rural Ontario, Canada. We had peaches, plums, cherries, and pears near the house, but the orchards were filled with apple trees. I still love apples, and am generally a great lover of fruit.

There are usually some imported apples in our fruit bowl – such an easy snack for work! – but living near the equator means we have access to a wide variety of tropical fruit. I use mangos and bananas in my breakfast smoothie almost every day. Boy will we miss the mangos.

The thing is, there are so many weird-looking fruit. Don’t know what they’re called, don’t know how to eat them, don’t know how they’ll taste. But seriously, how bad can it be? It’s not insects… it’s not fish heads… it’s fruit!

So allow me to take you onto my balcony and introduce you to three fruits that we’ve fallen in love with:

First of all, the dragon fruit. Here’s how we eat it. Cut it in half – the peel and flesh are really soft, so the knife slides through like butter. Isn’t it beautiful? Some dragon fruits are white inside, not red.

The dragon fruit is not native to South-East Asia. It originates from Central America, and apparently has been grown in Malaysia for just about a decade.

Then I scoop out the flesh. Very easy – it’s soft, like a ripe kiwi.

Then I simply dice it, and it’s ready to eat! It even looks like dice, doesn’t it! This fruit tastes a lot like kiwi.

Next, the rose apple. Isn’t that a pretty name? They say it has a rosewater taste, but since I’ve never tasted rosewater, I cannot verify!

These I can just slice like an apple. The skin is bitter, but the flesh tastes like a mix between a pear and an apple.

A nice snack to take to work, don’t you think?

And finally, the pulasan (not to be mixed up with the rambutan). I have learned that the spiky flesh should be more red, that these are a bit ‘past their prime’, but what’s a foreign girl to do? I buy what’s on the street, okay?

This fruit intrigues me – it’s so rough and strange on the outside, but inside so smooth, juicy and yes – sweet! Easy to eat too – As you can see Mehmet is doing here, you just twist the outer skin and there’s the fruit!

Sweet, like a lychee, but it has a bitter pit inside, so you can’t just pop it in and chew.

Yum!

And that’s all for today. Maybe another day I can introduce you to the durian (stinky!), jackfruit, rambutan, mangosteens and more.

But these were in our bowl today as I prepared my lunch for tomorrow. Thanks for joining me!

In the 1950s, a Canadian writer named Helen Gordon McPherson wrote: “Canadians have been so busy explaining to the Americans that we aren’t British, and to the British that we aren’t Americans…”

Certainly one of the highlights of living and working overseas all these years is the chance to work with so many Americans and British. They’re everywhere! And I love poking fun at them. When I’m with a group of British friends, I defend the Americans. Then vice versa. There’s always this fun rivalry and competitiveness between them. And I’m happy to be Canadian, which means I feel affinity to both sides.

I live in a flat (not an apartment), and I use a lift (not an elevator) to get there.I used to think Canadians were so different from Americans. That’s what we pride ourselves on, isn’t it? But when I lived in Australia, I realised I am so American! The influence is understandable and undeniable. Of course I sound like an American with my accent. I enjoy American TV shows and American music. I understand American humour and generally have a healthy appreciation and fondness for our neighbours.

But after years of working with British people (and now the company I work for is a huge British one), I must say, I’ve been duly influenced. Sure, it wasn’t difficult to appreciate their love for sarcasm, satire and self-depracation – that’s totally my type of humour.

But I’m talking about language. Words like ‘realize’, ‘recognize’ and ‘organize’ don’t look right to me anymore. It’s ‘realise’, ‘recognise’ and ‘organise’!

Spelling is just a minor thing. But what about the words that have slowly crept into my vocabulary, replacing others? It’s a rubbish bin, not a trash can or garbage can.

I eat aubergines, not eggplants.

We don’t park in a parking lot. It’s a car park.

I live in a flat - not an apartment - and I take the lift - not the elevator - to get there.

It’s funny. In Canada, when we heard British English, we’d think it was ‘grandmother’ talk… only old ladies used words like frock, jumper, queue, post, basins, lollies, and biscuits. Now I hear that kind of language around me all the time, and have adopted lots of it. And some of the American English sounds downright cheesy to me. Words like cookie (biscuits!), candy (sweets!), mail (post!) make me cringe! Silly.

I’m sure a few weeks back in Canada will Americanise Americanize me again.

But I’m going to have to go along with my British mates and insist on just one thing.

It’s not soccer. It’s football.

What’s a month on my blog without a good injury story, right?

Well it’s not too exciting, but I can’t resist sharing the bruise pictures.

It was so simple… I was reaching through the living room curtains to find the end of one of the sliding doors to the balcony to close it (yep, the door of fractured thumb fame). I lightly bumped the inside of my wrist on the frame of the inner glass door through the curtains. I was such a light little bump, but I remember thinking ‘Hmm, that hurt more than it should have.’ About ten minutes later I looked down to see that light tap had burst one of my blood veins, and it was now swelling and tender. Nice!

Two days later there was a lovely bruise. Isn’t it great?

When I was little, very little, I got ‘brains’ and ‘veins’ mixed up. So I thought the vessels in my wrist were my brains. I must have been about three or so. I’d like to think that when Mom told me to ‘use my brains’, I tensed up my wrist and replied, “I am, Mommy! I am!”

… and I’m an Olympics junkie. I just LOVE the Olympics! I love all of it… it’s an intoxicating melange of ideologies and effort and sportsmanship and culture and well… world peace! I know, I know, there’s doping and envy and cheating and slander and rich countries with a huge advantage, and there’s as much heartbreak as joy but shhhh… let me crank up the AC, settle in on the sofa of denial and enjoy the nice things.

I love the fireworks and acrobats and music and drums and fire. Athletes and singers and dancers. Is there really pain in the world? Everything here is so perfect.I love watching the athletes walk into the stadium. Especially Canada, my sweet comrades, you Commies of the North, you friendly, fresh-faced visions of athletic perfection, go on, waltz into that stadium with pride. With glowing hearts we see thee rise, the True North Strong and Free… oh yes oh yes GO CANADA GO!

And how about that Water Cube and the Bird’s Nest. HELLO.

There’s the fashion. Definitely gold medal for Cool Uniforms goes to the New Zealanders – the Kiwis always in black, I love it. There’s the Aussies who just can’t pull off the green and yellow like the Brazilians can (so it’s a good thing they rock the medal count!). Those Eastern Europeans, the Disco Gymnasts, who so stubbornly refuse to relinquish the sequins. And the mullets! I love the Bela-Russian hammer-throwing mullets!

I also enjoy the human drama stories. I know, kick me. But it’s just so moving! He tore his achilles tendon and this is his first time running in a world competition since, and ladies and gentlemen, he is in a lot of pain. GO BOY GO! Our 61 year old Canadian horse jumper, you can do it, Ian! The Brazilian furiously wiping away tears and choking back sobs on the podium, come to mama.

I’m not all that patriotic but during the Olympics I get downright crazyiotic. Go Canada go! Jump higher! Swim harder! Paddle paddle PADDLE! Tighten your tucks, lengthen your strides, perfect that pike! I love the ultra slow-mo of the divers and the photo finishes on the track.

I’m happy for China, and cheer with them. I love Asia and want the world to enjoy Asian culture too.

And of course I cheer for other countries I love. Holland, land of mijn ouders, hup hup! Japan, you are a nation of sweeties. Australia, you are definitely #1 in my book. Turkey, fighters, wrestlers, weight-lifters – c’mon c’mon! Even the badminton gold medal match was an excited Malaysia’s hope for their first Olympic gold ever (didn’t get it). And of course all the wee guys. The “stan” countries and war-torn countries… any of the underdogs.

We’re lucky – we’re in the same time zone as Beijing and we’re spoiled with nine(!) Olympic channels, all in English. We argue over the remote – Mehmet wants to watch football, and anything with fighting. He laughs at the Canadians trying to fight. “We’re lovers, not fighters”, I sigh, and change the channel to annoy him with rhythmic gymnastics. We agree though – if either Canada or Turkey are competing in anything, that’s what we watch.

Next week it’ll all be over, and I’ll go through withdrawal, crawl up in a corner in the fetal position and furiously hum the North Korean anthem. But till then, shhh, let me enjoy the grit and the glory.

How about you? If you love the Olympics, what’s your favourite part?

A couple weeks ago, I did a silly thing. Long story short:

• I walk onto balcony in the evening, am standing there, leaning against the railing, just looking.
• Mehmet joins me. Unbenownst to me, he closes the big sliding glass door behind him.
• We talk for awhile, standing there.
• At one point I turn quickly to go inside and don’t realise the glass door is closed.
• BAM!
• Faceplant.
• Ow! Ow!
• Mehmet thinks I’ve hurt my face, but no, my thumb!
• Thumb? You walk thumb-first?
• I know I know. I guess I just had my hand in front of me, but my thumb really hurts!
• It doesn’t swell much, but a couple days later I go to the doctor next to work.
• He sends me to get x-rays.
• I get x-rays, and take them home.
• I look at the x-rays. I don’t see anything broken.
• I don’t go back to the doctor.
• Two weeks later. Thumb is still sore!
• I go back to the doctor.
• “Oh, your thumb is fractured.”
• Huh?

Okay kids:

Lesson ONE:
Don’t wash your glass door.
Leave it dirty so you see it when it is closed.

Lesson TWO:
Don’t walk INTO the glass door.

Lesson THREE:
Don’t use the glass door to (inaccurately) self-diagnose your injury.

So now, with a bandaged hand and gimpy knee, I’m feeling more like an old lady than the spry young thing I really am!

A couple months ago, MacMillan Education publishers (big in ESL publishing) held a ‘New Words’ contest for readers on its site. By ‘New Words’ they meant words that have recently grown in popularity, that are not yet in the dictionary. I said to myself, “Self, this is the kind of contest for you!” So I read that day’s news online with eyes open for any words that seem to be appropriate.

This was my entry:

My word submission is hopemonger, which has been used a lot in the news lately in relation to Barack Obama.

Obama seems to have claimed the word as a compliment despite his opponents using it to deride him. (”Obama rightly mocks those who dismiss him as a naïve “hopemonger” and say he has to be “seasoned” in order to “boil all the hope out of him.”)  {link}. Now a quick Google search on the word ‘hopemonger’ pulls up thousands of references to Barack Obama. People have started using it to describe themselves, and you can even buy ‘hopemonger’ t-shirts {link}.

I hope you feel that your readers will find the word as interesting and colourful as I do!

A few weeks later I got the response:

Dear Brenda,

I’m happy to write to let you know that we have chosen you as the winner of our Word of the Week competition. We loved the suggestion you made, and plan to turn it into a Word of the Week article shortly…

And this week, I got the prize in the post: a massive Advanced Learners dictionary (especially good for Mehmet!) and Shakespeare’s Complete Works. 

Oh, go see the article!

I was a teenager when Mr. Dory sold me his Pentax Spotmatic II. I didn’t know anything about the technical aspects of photography, but played around with that camera and got some fantastic pics of farm life back in the day. I will never forget the weight of that camera in my hand, with my fingers so intuitively (more…)

So. Mujahida’s hurt her back and is off for the week. Heather’s got shingles. Pete’s shivering at his desk wrapped in a shawl, Kirsteen’s come in late because her tummy’s upset. It’s a rough week at work – the teachers are falling like flies! As a result I covered a couple classes this week – it was neat to get back into the classroom (it’s only been a couple of months since I started the management job, so it’s not been that long, but it’s amazing how quickly you lose the touch!).

It was a long day yesterday, and by 8pm I was eager to just get home and veg. I usually take a taxi to and from work – it costs about $1.50 one way.

It’s not always easy to get a taxi – they have a million (more…)

Start a conversation about hair with almost any group of white western women in Asia, and within moments, everyone’s blood pressure will have risen, as stories of hair dramas will unfold and salon traumas shared. It’s really hard to get a good haircut in Asia! Of course that doesn’t mean they’re not good hairstylists; it’s just that Asian hair is so different than caucasian hair, and of course styles are different too. What suits a petite, little fine-boned Asian face doesn’t suit my wide, chubby face or pudgy body. Basically, I think most caucasian women in Asia have this deep fear that they will leave the hair salon with a hair style like (more…)

These days I’m learning LOTS about physiotherapy. I’ve always loved biology and anatomy. I ask my physiotherapists and their assistants lots of questions. I ask about my knee, about his knee, and her knee, and her ankle, and his wrist. I ask about their jobs and their studies. How long was your training? What’s your next step – will you keep studying? Are the students that come fof practical training helpful? Is it hard to get staff? Do they give you ongoing training? What’s the difference between a physiotherapist and a rehab technician? Why is my ankle blue when it’s my knee that had the surgery? What’s it like working for Dr. so-and-so? Do you get bored doing (more…)

I’m longingly poring over You Grow Girl’s website - my newest obsession. It makes me so hungry for gardening. As a child, every year around this time, I was the one who helped mom get down and dirty in the flowerbeds. Digging in with my fingers, pouring water in the holes, loosening the roots, it’s all such a rewarding excuse to get muddy! Even fighting with the huge rototiller row after row in the vegetable garden (in bare feet even, yikes!) – I really enjoyed it. It was the hoeing and weeding and picking endless baskets of veggies and berries in the summer heat that I didn’t find as much pleasure in.

In Japan, I noticed that people were crazy about gardening, and just a few square feet of space for putting some pots for flowers was a huge treat. I often wondered what they would think if they saw (more…)