I've probably gone on long rants here about my misadventures with Mandarin Chinese while in school and the adverse effect it has had on my view of Chinese things today. And i'm sure that anyone reading this would probably also have encountered firsthand my, to put it mildly, tentative command of the language. So i guess that a little heads up that there will be more of the similar (or maybe the same) coming up here is in order..
A couple of days ago Dr Ng Eng Hen (doesn't sound quite right to call him NEH, especially since he's my minister eh) made a speech about the teaching of the Chinese language in schools. A choice quote of his which immediately caught my attention was this: "teaching a student Chinese language as a second language is fundamentally different from teaching a student whose mother tongue is Chinese. Hence, the teaching approaches must recognise this." Coming in the wake of LKY's admission that his insistence on bilingualism was wrong, i can hardly say that i didn't see this coming. Nevertheless the sheer reality of Dr Ng's words struck this permanently-scarred-by-misguided-and-draconian-methods-of-Chinese-teaching guy quite hard. While toiling under the weight of endless (and in my opinion, both then and now, meaningless) ting xies and mo xies, not to mention the many confusing cheng yus that i had to memorize, the prevailing rhetoric that underpinned everything about how and why i was taught this language was that it was my 'mother tongue'. As a naive young primary school boy, i grudgingly accepted my torturous fate of having to learn Chinese. This was even if when mustering every ounce of logical thinking and common sense within me, i could never come to terms with how the supposed experts in the education ministry could ever conclude that my mother tongue was Mandarin Chinese when my mother speaks no languages that are even remotely related to Chinese (for starters, all of the languages she speaks possess something called an alphabet). And for good measure, my father, while Chinese, can't exactly boast of Mandarin Chinese as being one of his 'tongues' either.
Bearing all of this in mind, to hear at present, within a span of a few short months, admissions that first i (and i suspect thousands of others too) had the language unpalatably shoved down my throat due to LKY making a (supposedly uncharacteristic) mistake, and then that the rationale behind why i was even subject to such an off-putting way of learning a language (that i had a secret mother unknown to everyone save the MOE, who warranted me learning her tongue) was incorrect have understandably piqued my interest to say the least. And if this wasn't enough, there was that other announcement a day or two before that they'll now let parents of children with mixed ethnicity choose what race (i've reservations about the S'pore government's use of this term too, as with its use of 'mother tongue', but that's another story) they are to be officially recognized as belonging to. Being officially regarded as 'Chinese', full stop, by the government myself, effectively disregarding one half of my ethnicity and conveniently opening the door for my second language to be involuntarily set as Mandarin Chinese in the process, i can't help but wonder what might have been had this policy been in place that many years ago (though admittedly i doubt there might have been much difference from how things have turned out). This especially since this unilateral labeling of me as 'Chinese' more or less started me down a long road, which at this current stage corresponds to me having lost touch with my rightful mother tongue, such that today the best that i can do is make monosyllabic utterances whenever the opportunity arises for me to speak some Tagalog.
So while it's unavoidable that, having grown up in S'pore, i've lost touch with much of the Filipino half of my cultural heritage, taking all these recent developments into consideration, it definitely makes what has resulted - both the aforementioned losing touch with my Filipino cultural heritage and also my general aversion to almost everything Chinese - be it in terms of the food, medicine, culture, political system, language, and whatever else you can think of - due to sheer Chinese language overkill back in those days that much more regrettable. And one thing's for sure - while in times when Chinese has to be spoken - e.g. speaking with people who want to better their own command of the language/ trying (usually in vain) to communicate with non-English speaking parents of my students, which usually results instead in their amused chuckles or puzzled stares, getting more in touch with my Chinese roots sure ain't a new year's resolution i'll be making anytime soon...
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
walking on sunshine?
I'm not sure if this is a commonly-used phrase, but i know that i've heard "how quickly time passes when you're enjoying yourself" at some points in time (it could be a commonly-used phrase, or it could just be a line from some TV show that i watched which has stuck) in my mind. Whatever the case, it certainly has rung true for this past, purportedly six week long holiday, of which just under one and a half weeks is left.
Coupled with that is the prospect of getting quite a bit of work done before school starts proper (what's new?) and a rather, shall we say interesting class allocation for the new year, which will at the very least require quite a bit of pre-lesson prep, of which again i've done zilch thus far. And even though i don't think there's a need for me to be back in school for the majority of next week, the fact that i can't really get much work done in a home environment, means that i may end up toiling in the stuffy staff room for perhaps all the weekdays next week, the prospect of which doesn't exactly excite me even one tiny bit.
But all that being said, after the nice recharging and, as much as i hate using this word now particularly within the context of moe overuse, reflecting experience that was the trip (even if most of the recharging has pretty much worn off by now), there's in some strange way something about this upcoming year that is strangely enticing for me. We'll have to see if this is just pre-term enthusiasm that will be snuffed out by the end of day one though...
And in the meantime i shall listen to Glee :)
Coupled with that is the prospect of getting quite a bit of work done before school starts proper (what's new?) and a rather, shall we say interesting class allocation for the new year, which will at the very least require quite a bit of pre-lesson prep, of which again i've done zilch thus far. And even though i don't think there's a need for me to be back in school for the majority of next week, the fact that i can't really get much work done in a home environment, means that i may end up toiling in the stuffy staff room for perhaps all the weekdays next week, the prospect of which doesn't exactly excite me even one tiny bit.
But all that being said, after the nice recharging and, as much as i hate using this word now particularly within the context of moe overuse, reflecting experience that was the trip (even if most of the recharging has pretty much worn off by now), there's in some strange way something about this upcoming year that is strangely enticing for me. We'll have to see if this is just pre-term enthusiasm that will be snuffed out by the end of day one though...
And in the meantime i shall listen to Glee :)
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Where Kellie Pickler oughta go...
The so-called "big three" that from what i gathered ought to anchor any trip to central Europe are Vienna, Prague, and Budapest. I don't know if i was subconsciously manifesting my inner kiasu S'porean by planning to cross off all three from my "to visit" list as soon as possible through scheduling them all back to back, but in any case i definitely had consciously thought of it as not an issue to travel long distances between cities, such as was the case between Prague and Budapest especially - close to eight hours), to at least break even on the railpass that i had bought.
By the time i reached Budapest, i had concluded that my camera would only give me major problems if there was a significant amount of daylight involved, which is just as well considering i was in Europe near to the Winter Solstice (which is tomorrow if i remember correctly..) which meant that the sun would set by say 4:30pm. So while the minimal daylight made sightseeing that much more challenging, at the least it made it more convenient for me to take pictures that didn't look like there was zero visibility in the city. What i ended up taking to doing, starting from Budapest, would be to ascend the Castle Hill (seemingly every city i visited from Prague onwards had some sort of architectural marvel situated on top of a high hill + plus a great view of the city from the same hill to boot, and since i stay on a hill myself and regularly have to climb it to head home, i had no issue with the climb - though admittedly again channeling my inner kiasu S'porean i would use public transport where possible if i had a day pass) just before sunset so i could at least try taking some pictures as daylight faded and then take better pictures once it did get dark. TThe result is that while the picture quality still isn't the best, it's better than nothing...
The city itself was a welcome change from Prague, in a sense that while perhaps less concentrated with things to see than Prague is, the correspondingly lesser amount of tourists meant that on a whole the city did feel less touristy and that much more authentic (and of course, less claustrophobic as well), even if it meant that i had to try out whatever utterances in Hungarian i could conjure up far more often than i had to in Prague (and Hungarian is no easier than Czech - even after looking through the mini-phrasebook and pronunciation guide over and over again, what something was supposed to be pronounced as still usually ended up sounding totally different from how i would have envisioned it..) There still was a lot to see in Budapest though, such that i ended up staying there for longer than i had originally planned (ok maybe part of that was due to indecision as well..). Teaching what i teach, one place i was definitely glad to visit was the House of Terror, documenting the conditions under both the fascist and communist regimes in Hungary. Not just to justify myself for having taken this three week trip by reasoning that i did things there that can help me in my work, but even just to get a better idea of how things in such periods in history, especially when the situation then is (at least ostensibly) worlds apart from how things have been like back here.
Somewhat randomly, a long time ago, when i had looked at books that showcased many different breeds of domestic dogs, i distinctly remember that there were certain breeds that came from Hungary, at least two of which had fur which reminded me of Whoopi Goldberg. I was semi-expecting to see one when i was there but kinda forgot about it, until one day, lo and behold, at the Christmas market in Vörösmarty tér (don't ask me how to pronounce that), i chanced upon what i believe is known as a Komondor. Or maybe it's just a giant string mophead with a black nose. You be the judge (too bad that my camera was wonky when this was taken).
Of course, being the chilli freak that i am, another reason to look forward to going to Hungary was the food, especially since as far as i can remember, i have always associated the country with paprika. Even though i knew that it would hardly compare with some of the chillis we have here, at the least it would be a new kind of food to try (when was the last time you saw a Hungarian restaurant in S'pore? Or anywhere, for that matter?). And of course no way i would go all the way to eat at any place with one/many of the following words in their name: panda, bamboo, peking, palace, lotus. So while i was there, i did manage to try some local food, at various places, including the aforementioned Christmas market, where one thing i chanced upon was a giant saucepan of rooster testicle stew. I didn't try some though (a serving cost 1800 forints - i.e. 1800 forints more than i would pay to eat rooster testicles).
Another thing i really enjoyed about Budapest was the opportunity to go beyond what your usual tourist might do (i.e. pretty much all of what has been mentioned above). Through couchsurfing, at the last minute i managed to find a great host (with a really cool family too) for what turned out to be longer than i had originally planned. To cut a long story short (cos have i been long-winded here) ended up doing positively un-touristy things like walking through the woods in near pitch darkness and being blessed through visiting not one, but two Bible study groups on two separate nights (incidentally my first Christian gatherings of such a nature in way too long, which got me thinking of something i ought to be doing now that i'm back here). These would be exactly the kind of unexpected happenings that i was praying for at the start of the trip - and there would be more to come - just so that this trip would not be just a trip. Pretty cool i think how the Lord enables things like random events to just come together like that...
And to top things off, on the morning i finally left Budapest, i found a little present from Santa Claus at my doorstep - it just so happened to be the day he would come :)
Well, when all that's said and done, i do wish i had more time so i could see more of the country apart from Budapest and Szentendre (an hour outside of Budapest), as for some reason this is one country that fascinates me quite a bit. Maybe in a few years i'll find my way back, we'll see how things go...
By the time i reached Budapest, i had concluded that my camera would only give me major problems if there was a significant amount of daylight involved, which is just as well considering i was in Europe near to the Winter Solstice (which is tomorrow if i remember correctly..) which meant that the sun would set by say 4:30pm. So while the minimal daylight made sightseeing that much more challenging, at the least it made it more convenient for me to take pictures that didn't look like there was zero visibility in the city. What i ended up taking to doing, starting from Budapest, would be to ascend the Castle Hill (seemingly every city i visited from Prague onwards had some sort of architectural marvel situated on top of a high hill + plus a great view of the city from the same hill to boot, and since i stay on a hill myself and regularly have to climb it to head home, i had no issue with the climb - though admittedly again channeling my inner kiasu S'porean i would use public transport where possible if i had a day pass) just before sunset so i could at least try taking some pictures as daylight faded and then take better pictures once it did get dark. TThe result is that while the picture quality still isn't the best, it's better than nothing...
The city itself was a welcome change from Prague, in a sense that while perhaps less concentrated with things to see than Prague is, the correspondingly lesser amount of tourists meant that on a whole the city did feel less touristy and that much more authentic (and of course, less claustrophobic as well), even if it meant that i had to try out whatever utterances in Hungarian i could conjure up far more often than i had to in Prague (and Hungarian is no easier than Czech - even after looking through the mini-phrasebook and pronunciation guide over and over again, what something was supposed to be pronounced as still usually ended up sounding totally different from how i would have envisioned it..) There still was a lot to see in Budapest though, such that i ended up staying there for longer than i had originally planned (ok maybe part of that was due to indecision as well..). Teaching what i teach, one place i was definitely glad to visit was the House of Terror, documenting the conditions under both the fascist and communist regimes in Hungary. Not just to justify myself for having taken this three week trip by reasoning that i did things there that can help me in my work, but even just to get a better idea of how things in such periods in history, especially when the situation then is (at least ostensibly) worlds apart from how things have been like back here.
Somewhat randomly, a long time ago, when i had looked at books that showcased many different breeds of domestic dogs, i distinctly remember that there were certain breeds that came from Hungary, at least two of which had fur which reminded me of Whoopi Goldberg. I was semi-expecting to see one when i was there but kinda forgot about it, until one day, lo and behold, at the Christmas market in Vörösmarty tér (don't ask me how to pronounce that), i chanced upon what i believe is known as a Komondor. Or maybe it's just a giant string mophead with a black nose. You be the judge (too bad that my camera was wonky when this was taken).
Of course, being the chilli freak that i am, another reason to look forward to going to Hungary was the food, especially since as far as i can remember, i have always associated the country with paprika. Even though i knew that it would hardly compare with some of the chillis we have here, at the least it would be a new kind of food to try (when was the last time you saw a Hungarian restaurant in S'pore? Or anywhere, for that matter?). And of course no way i would go all the way to eat at any place with one/many of the following words in their name: panda, bamboo, peking, palace, lotus. So while i was there, i did manage to try some local food, at various places, including the aforementioned Christmas market, where one thing i chanced upon was a giant saucepan of rooster testicle stew. I didn't try some though (a serving cost 1800 forints - i.e. 1800 forints more than i would pay to eat rooster testicles).
Another thing i really enjoyed about Budapest was the opportunity to go beyond what your usual tourist might do (i.e. pretty much all of what has been mentioned above). Through couchsurfing, at the last minute i managed to find a great host (with a really cool family too) for what turned out to be longer than i had originally planned. To cut a long story short (cos have i been long-winded here) ended up doing positively un-touristy things like walking through the woods in near pitch darkness and being blessed through visiting not one, but two Bible study groups on two separate nights (incidentally my first Christian gatherings of such a nature in way too long, which got me thinking of something i ought to be doing now that i'm back here). These would be exactly the kind of unexpected happenings that i was praying for at the start of the trip - and there would be more to come - just so that this trip would not be just a trip. Pretty cool i think how the Lord enables things like random events to just come together like that...
And to top things off, on the morning i finally left Budapest, i found a little present from Santa Claus at my doorstep - it just so happened to be the day he would come :)
Well, when all that's said and done, i do wish i had more time so i could see more of the country apart from Budapest and Szentendre (an hour outside of Budapest), as for some reason this is one country that fascinates me quite a bit. Maybe in a few years i'll find my way back, we'll see how things go...
Friday, December 18, 2009
(pardon the lame pun) Czech it out
I had for the longest time heard about how beautiful Prague was, and i remember being somewhat frustrated when the same school trip which i was on some time ago basically made a huge circle around the city, and never getting close.
So when i finally got there, it sure didn't disappoint. Talking about an embarrassment of architectural riches doesn't begin to describe the place. I suppose though that unavoidably, as a result of this, tourists have been drawn to the place in their multitudes. Even though i was there at end November (which i assume is still somewhat of an off-season), tourists (which includes me) seemed to make up a larger proportion of the people in the city than locals, especially in the old city centre. So while on the one hand i may have drawn some comfort from the many English-language signs all over the shops and restaurants at the town centre (especially when Czech is an extremely frustrating language to learn - exhibiting a generous usage of consonants with alien diacritics that intimidate the English speaker to no end), i knew at the same time that this was all too touristy, and took away somewhat from the natural charm of the city. Now that i think of it, in fact, if World Showcase at Epcot had featured a Czech pavillion, i could pretty much imagine it being pretty much identical to the Prague old town centre, perhaps just sans cheery shopkeepers and food service staff with a nametag with the name of their hometown (e.g. Brno, Czech Republic) proudly emblazoned under their name.
Somewhat closer to home, with the Czech Republic being the birthplace of Bata shoes, i guess i shouldn't have been surprised to come across this one night while i was walking by Wenceslas Square (where a lot of the happenings of the Prague Spring and the Velvet Revolution took place), to come across not just a Bata store, but seven floors worth of it (and with almost nary a white canvas shoe in sight)
Unfortunately, Prague was also the place when my camera decided to cause some trouble by acting up whenever i tried to take pictures in broad daylight. So one morning i was walking along the Vltava River, snapping away, when the pictures started to look like this (well this is not the exact picture, and i've since tried to salvage the pictures as best as i can with whatever limited photo editing prowess that i have). I suppose you could say that the picture looks somewhat artistically taken, but well i think that's just an euphemism for bad. But however you see it, the fact is that this problem plagued my camera for the rest of the trip (so it looks like it's camera upgrading time). But i guess that even if i was not able to take the nicest pictures, i'm glad that at least i had the chance to be there to try and take pictures that ended up failing on me.
On top of that, well the Czech Republic being the Czech Republic, i think i must have never drunk as much alcohol as i did in the four or so days i was there, such that by the end of my time there the one other Czech word i had to learn was čaj (pronounced chai - you see what i mean about the language?) - tea, which was to be my new beverage of choice for much of the rest of the trip (just as well that this is the word for tea too in all the other Slavic language-speaking countries i was in too)...
So when i finally got there, it sure didn't disappoint. Talking about an embarrassment of architectural riches doesn't begin to describe the place. I suppose though that unavoidably, as a result of this, tourists have been drawn to the place in their multitudes. Even though i was there at end November (which i assume is still somewhat of an off-season), tourists (which includes me) seemed to make up a larger proportion of the people in the city than locals, especially in the old city centre. So while on the one hand i may have drawn some comfort from the many English-language signs all over the shops and restaurants at the town centre (especially when Czech is an extremely frustrating language to learn - exhibiting a generous usage of consonants with alien diacritics that intimidate the English speaker to no end), i knew at the same time that this was all too touristy, and took away somewhat from the natural charm of the city. Now that i think of it, in fact, if World Showcase at Epcot had featured a Czech pavillion, i could pretty much imagine it being pretty much identical to the Prague old town centre, perhaps just sans cheery shopkeepers and food service staff with a nametag with the name of their hometown (e.g. Brno, Czech Republic) proudly emblazoned under their name.
Somewhat closer to home, with the Czech Republic being the birthplace of Bata shoes, i guess i shouldn't have been surprised to come across this one night while i was walking by Wenceslas Square (where a lot of the happenings of the Prague Spring and the Velvet Revolution took place), to come across not just a Bata store, but seven floors worth of it (and with almost nary a white canvas shoe in sight)
Unfortunately, Prague was also the place when my camera decided to cause some trouble by acting up whenever i tried to take pictures in broad daylight. So one morning i was walking along the Vltava River, snapping away, when the pictures started to look like this (well this is not the exact picture, and i've since tried to salvage the pictures as best as i can with whatever limited photo editing prowess that i have). I suppose you could say that the picture looks somewhat artistically taken, but well i think that's just an euphemism for bad. But however you see it, the fact is that this problem plagued my camera for the rest of the trip (so it looks like it's camera upgrading time). But i guess that even if i was not able to take the nicest pictures, i'm glad that at least i had the chance to be there to try and take pictures that ended up failing on me.
On top of that, well the Czech Republic being the Czech Republic, i think i must have never drunk as much alcohol as i did in the four or so days i was there, such that by the end of my time there the one other Czech word i had to learn was čaj (pronounced chai - you see what i mean about the language?) - tea, which was to be my new beverage of choice for much of the rest of the trip (just as well that this is the word for tea too in all the other Slavic language-speaking countries i was in too)...
Thursday, December 17, 2009
For Starters...
Ever since terminal three at Changi opened its doors, i've not been able to help but think that it looks pretty much deserted most of the time. Granted that my flight was scheduled for 2:20am so the terminal was bound to look less populated than it might otherwise be, but nevertheless it seems to me that especially with the opening of the terminal more or less coinciding with the general downturn in global air travel (particularly with regards to middle to long-distance flights which are the ones that tend to depart from T3 in the first place), white elephant talk unavoidably may come up from time to time. That being said, that's not to take away from the fact that T3 is one impressive terminal, within one impressive airport, something that became all the more apparent after arriving at the next two airports for the first time...
Qatar Airways is actually a rather good airline, and is by all means worthy of the Skytrax five star ranking that has also gone to the likes of SQ and Cathay Pacific. While i may question the excess, i thought that it was quite a neat touch for them to provide placemats for every meal they serve. And it's nice to hear the cabin crew, to the best of my perceptions, speaking in authentic and non-contrived English accents, unlike many of their counterparts in SQ and Tiger Airways (the worst yet).
Where Qatar Airways does lose out, however, is in their airhub. Doha International Airport, is, for all intents and purposes, a rather dreadful place. When stepping into their duty free shopping area, i felt a strange sense of déjà vu, and it soon hit me that this was because i had stepped into a similar environment less than twenty-four hours earlier, which was when i headed to Mustafa Centre to buy some souvenirs. Yes, the same sense of claustrophobia came over me, as i scowled at the messy floors, the too-close-together display counters and the hoards of people. The only difference from Mustafa? Perhaps that the prices of stuff was at least a good two times more expensive.. The washrooms too were by far the worst i've ever encountered in any airport (though admittedly upon first glance at some other airports i automatically decide to not even attempt to use their facilities and instead hold it for the plane/hotel) - or as Jeff Albertson, a.k.a. the Comic Book Guy would succinctly put it, "Worst. Airport toilets. Ever!". If i were to put any positive spin on the airport, is that they, like T3 at Changi, do try to bring in some natural settings into the terminal itself. Unfortunately, while at Changi they do so by installing lush greenery throughout the area, in Doha they do so by making the environment conducive for a family of fat sparrows to make their home among the supporting pillars of the building.
But 'nuff said about the airports. After an all-too-long three hour transit at Doha, i boarded the connecting flight to Vienna. Won't dwell too much on the airport there, suffice to say that it's rather unremarkable (i.e. i've really nothing to remark on about it). I'd been to Vienna once upon a time long, long ago, but that was for a guided school trip (well sorta anyways) so it was quite different to be back there this time, on my own. In any case, there was little i remembered from the previous time i was there, and in fact the most vivid memory i had was that the local guide attached to us was a friendly middle-aged lady named Maria who just so happened to be the spitting image of Mrs. Doubtfire. So in other words, there was a lot of reacquainting with the city that i had to do. Had a very good couchsurfing host there, Simon, who helped to orientate me around the city, even though he had school on at the same time. And anyways, since i figured that Vienna might end up being the city with the best tourist infrastructure of all the places i'd be visiting, i'd might as well make the most of it. So with that in mind, i basically made my way around the city, visiting whatever places i'd been to the previous time that i could remember, which basically just amounted to one place - Schönbrunn Palace (there was that one "Aha!" moment when i stood at the grounds of the palace taking a picture uphill and remembering doing the same a good nine-and-a-half years earlier)
Another highlight would be the Christmas markets all around the city (and as i was soon to find out, around all the places i was at during this trip). Maybe it's the weather, or the food available, i dunno, but i did find them so much more enjoyable than i do pasar malams back here (even if what's available is much more expensive). They also ended up becoming prime ground for me to practice my (very) limited local language skills.
Qatar Airways is actually a rather good airline, and is by all means worthy of the Skytrax five star ranking that has also gone to the likes of SQ and Cathay Pacific. While i may question the excess, i thought that it was quite a neat touch for them to provide placemats for every meal they serve. And it's nice to hear the cabin crew, to the best of my perceptions, speaking in authentic and non-contrived English accents, unlike many of their counterparts in SQ and Tiger Airways (the worst yet).
Where Qatar Airways does lose out, however, is in their airhub. Doha International Airport, is, for all intents and purposes, a rather dreadful place. When stepping into their duty free shopping area, i felt a strange sense of déjà vu, and it soon hit me that this was because i had stepped into a similar environment less than twenty-four hours earlier, which was when i headed to Mustafa Centre to buy some souvenirs. Yes, the same sense of claustrophobia came over me, as i scowled at the messy floors, the too-close-together display counters and the hoards of people. The only difference from Mustafa? Perhaps that the prices of stuff was at least a good two times more expensive.. The washrooms too were by far the worst i've ever encountered in any airport (though admittedly upon first glance at some other airports i automatically decide to not even attempt to use their facilities and instead hold it for the plane/hotel) - or as Jeff Albertson, a.k.a. the Comic Book Guy would succinctly put it, "Worst. Airport toilets. Ever!". If i were to put any positive spin on the airport, is that they, like T3 at Changi, do try to bring in some natural settings into the terminal itself. Unfortunately, while at Changi they do so by installing lush greenery throughout the area, in Doha they do so by making the environment conducive for a family of fat sparrows to make their home among the supporting pillars of the building.
But 'nuff said about the airports. After an all-too-long three hour transit at Doha, i boarded the connecting flight to Vienna. Won't dwell too much on the airport there, suffice to say that it's rather unremarkable (i.e. i've really nothing to remark on about it). I'd been to Vienna once upon a time long, long ago, but that was for a guided school trip (well sorta anyways) so it was quite different to be back there this time, on my own. In any case, there was little i remembered from the previous time i was there, and in fact the most vivid memory i had was that the local guide attached to us was a friendly middle-aged lady named Maria who just so happened to be the spitting image of Mrs. Doubtfire. So in other words, there was a lot of reacquainting with the city that i had to do. Had a very good couchsurfing host there, Simon, who helped to orientate me around the city, even though he had school on at the same time. And anyways, since i figured that Vienna might end up being the city with the best tourist infrastructure of all the places i'd be visiting, i'd might as well make the most of it. So with that in mind, i basically made my way around the city, visiting whatever places i'd been to the previous time that i could remember, which basically just amounted to one place - Schönbrunn Palace (there was that one "Aha!" moment when i stood at the grounds of the palace taking a picture uphill and remembering doing the same a good nine-and-a-half years earlier)
Another highlight would be the Christmas markets all around the city (and as i was soon to find out, around all the places i was at during this trip). Maybe it's the weather, or the food available, i dunno, but i did find them so much more enjoyable than i do pasar malams back here (even if what's available is much more expensive). They also ended up becoming prime ground for me to practice my (very) limited local language skills.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
travel log
After three weeks or so of holiday, at the start of which i was surprisingly, but nevertheless seriously thinking that i should not have made it so long (a thought that all but disappeared after a few days), i got back yesterday afternoon. It didn't take any longer than for me to approach the plane door and take the first step onto the aerobridge at Changi for me to realise "oh crap, that's it for beautiful, cool weather in which i can walk comfortably outdoors without the risk of profuse sweating", for the sweltering, moisture-saturated Singapore air easily crept through the centimetre-wide spacing between the plane body and the aerobridge canopy thingy that is supposed to wrap around the plane body (i'm sure there's a proper name for it). While i'm glad to be able to wear berms and uncovered footwear again, the idea of being back still ain't great, though admittedly i'd have expected more of a sinking feeling than what i have right now.
Knowing the sometime absentminded knucklehead that is me all too well, i had right from the start decided that i wouldn't be bringing my laptop along on this trip. If i did, chances are that it might be in the hands of some opportunistic train station vagrant (i once forgot about my laptop in the nus library, and left it at the info computers to go print something for a good five minutes, but thankfully then it was stilll there when i hurriedly rushed back to get it) or have sustained a serious body dent when i'd have accidentally let it slip from my hands onto the hard concrete floor.
This however meant that chronicling all that's happened during these past three weeks (not to mention doing more mundane things like checking email) became that much more of a difficult process, especially when coupled with the fact that, as i had mentioned earlier, my now almost three-and-a-half year old powershot
So now here i am armed with certain recollections and other assorted musings about the trip. I'm still not sure how to organise them, but i suppose they'll organise themselves (somewhat) as i go along. And anyways, this is primarily meant for me, that i might not forget (i am a student of history after all), so hopefully at least i'll be able to understand what i've put down here, and if anyone else does then all the better eh. Think putting everything together in one shot will be a tad too ambitious though, so we'll do this bit by bit, so just stay tuned...
Knowing the sometime absentminded knucklehead that is me all too well, i had right from the start decided that i wouldn't be bringing my laptop along on this trip. If i did, chances are that it might be in the hands of some opportunistic train station vagrant (i once forgot about my laptop in the nus library, and left it at the info computers to go print something for a good five minutes, but thankfully then it was stilll there when i hurriedly rushed back to get it) or have sustained a serious body dent when i'd have accidentally let it slip from my hands onto the hard concrete floor.
This however meant that chronicling all that's happened during these past three weeks (not to mention doing more mundane things like checking email) became that much more of a difficult process, especially when coupled with the fact that, as i had mentioned earlier, my now almost three-and-a-half year old powershot
So now here i am armed with certain recollections and other assorted musings about the trip. I'm still not sure how to organise them, but i suppose they'll organise themselves (somewhat) as i go along. And anyways, this is primarily meant for me, that i might not forget (i am a student of history after all), so hopefully at least i'll be able to understand what i've put down here, and if anyone else does then all the better eh. Think putting everything together in one shot will be a tad too ambitious though, so we'll do this bit by bit, so just stay tuned...
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