Am getting down to (hopefully) finalising holiday plans within the next couple of days, though worries that right after i book the flight i'll find out that there's some school-related activity which i've to be at home for are perpetually at the back of my mind. And i think that "sorry, i've already booked my ticket, so that's just too bad (actually that's already the self-censored version - the first thing that came to my mind was more along the lines of s**** you - blame it on my students, though they say far worse)!" is hardly the way to go about handling such a situation if it were to arise.
Another recently-developed worry that i now have is that the lingering ash cloud over much of Europe will somehow not magically (get lost in your rock and roll and) drift away by the time the June holidays arrive, especially since in the fleeting moments that i've caught the news i've heard worst-case scenarios of 6 months till the ash clears being floated around.
It's interesting to see, by the way, how much news coverage is devoted to this story in both the local and int'l media (my joint favourites - a seemingly unsolicited "i wish i was there" message to the ST from Vivian Balakrishnan, last heard stranded in Paris, and today's front page story of Penny Low teleconferencing to join her fellow GRC MPs at a community event - does that really warrant a front page story? Pretty lame, was what i thought (both her teleconferencing and the story). You would have thought that there might be a greater focus on the Qinghai earthquake, which now surely ranks as the Farrah Fawcett of recent news stories.
One part of the whole volcanic ash flight cancellation saga that has been severely undercovered is ironically at the centre of it all - the name of the volcano (and for the record, it's Eyjafjallajökull). Up till now, on the tv news it's been known simply as "the Icelandic Volcano". But i guess who can blame it when it's pronounced something like this.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
circular logic
I've always been one for obscure, insignificant, and ultimately super boliao things (though at this hour, no examples come to mind). The latest example of this took place today, when, admittedly semi-buoyed by the pointless novelty of trying out the latest leg of the circle line on the day it was opened to the public, i (after some difficulty, might i add - chalk it up to poor signage at Dhoby Ghaut station) hopped on a circle line train.
Don't get me wrong though, this was, by no means a random, on a whim kinda thing done because i had nothing better to do. I was, of course, headed to school to get some work done (what's new, eh?) That aside though, i'm seriously glad that this part of the line has opened, as it makes traveling to and from school from home that much easier (ah yes, all the better to spend more time in school, the nagging cynic in me would say). As the past week went on, i seriously could hardly wait for the opening, especially since, seemingly in order to perpetuate my perennial frustration with having to rely on buses 14 and 16, i was hit with many just-left-the-stop-as-i-came-within-ten-metres-of-it buses and horrid rainy weather, up till Friday evening, the last possible time whereby i would not be able to try the train back.
My relative satisfaction with the ride today aside, i do wish that they wouldn't pimp the line up to be more than it actually is. My favourite is this report by cna (who else?) stating that by using the line commuters can save both time and money, but giving the ridiculous example of the (train) journey from Paya Lebar to Bartley which "takes about 38 minutes and costs $1.61", while with the opening of the latest circle line stage it will be cut to 6 minutes and save commuters 66 cents, "which is over 40 per cent cheaper than the previous fare".
That's all well and good, but who in their right mind would take the train down from Paya Lebar to City Hall and change to the red line to Dhoby Ghaut and change again to the NEL at Serangoon and then change a final time to the Circle Line to Bartley anyway, when they could easily hop on a bus (i dare say a direct one) and make the trip insurely less than 38 minutes and also at a cheaper price? The answer? Seemingly only Hetty Musfirah Abdul Khamid , the writer of the article, who along the same lines would, if needing to head to the ground floor from the first, would probably choose to take an elevator all the way up to the topmost floor before taking it down again to the ground floor. Kinda like a Twilight Zone Tower of Terror for the geriatrics.
So don't make the new section of the circle line to be something it's not. Makes travel more convenient? Yes. More environmentally-friendly than diesel-powered buses and taxis? Yes. The cheapest mode of transport? Far from it.
Don't get me wrong though, this was, by no means a random, on a whim kinda thing done because i had nothing better to do. I was, of course, headed to school to get some work done (what's new, eh?) That aside though, i'm seriously glad that this part of the line has opened, as it makes traveling to and from school from home that much easier (ah yes, all the better to spend more time in school, the nagging cynic in me would say). As the past week went on, i seriously could hardly wait for the opening, especially since, seemingly in order to perpetuate my perennial frustration with having to rely on buses 14 and 16, i was hit with many just-left-the-stop-as-i-came-within-ten-metres-of-it buses and horrid rainy weather, up till Friday evening, the last possible time whereby i would not be able to try the train back.
My relative satisfaction with the ride today aside, i do wish that they wouldn't pimp the line up to be more than it actually is. My favourite is this report by cna (who else?) stating that by using the line commuters can save both time and money, but giving the ridiculous example of the (train) journey from Paya Lebar to Bartley which "takes about 38 minutes and costs $1.61", while with the opening of the latest circle line stage it will be cut to 6 minutes and save commuters 66 cents, "which is over 40 per cent cheaper than the previous fare".
That's all well and good, but who in their right mind would take the train down from Paya Lebar to City Hall and change to the red line to Dhoby Ghaut and change again to the NEL at Serangoon and then change a final time to the Circle Line to Bartley anyway, when they could easily hop on a bus (i dare say a direct one) and make the trip insurely less than 38 minutes and also at a cheaper price? The answer? Seemingly only Hetty Musfirah Abdul Khamid , the writer of the article, who along the same lines would, if needing to head to the ground floor from the first, would probably choose to take an elevator all the way up to the topmost floor before taking it down again to the ground floor. Kinda like a Twilight Zone Tower of Terror for the geriatrics.
So don't make the new section of the circle line to be something it's not. Makes travel more convenient? Yes. More environmentally-friendly than diesel-powered buses and taxis? Yes. The cheapest mode of transport? Far from it.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
incroyable...
Let's finally talk a bit about the India trip, before it becomes an all too distant memory. First trip in a long time that i've taken out of the country which i wouldn't consider a holiday. Probably all the way since army training all those years ago. I wouldn't even consider it a working holiday. Just plain work is more like it, just with a change in environment from cosy corner of the staffroom to less cosy legroom-deficient seat in a seasonally-airconditioned coach (we were traveling and caught in jams so much it's as though i never left - except for a brief spell in the middle, but more on that later...)
Granted it was nice to finally see India beyond the Mumbai (then known as Bombay) airport. Places like the old pink buildings in Jaipur and of course the Taj Mahal are definitely must-sees. Postcards and Incredible India adverts hardly do them justice - especially with the latter, to see it in person is a totally different experience altogether.
The people there whom we encountered were a very hospitable bunch. Unfortunately, in the middle of the trip i was the recipient of more hospitality than i had originally intended for, after getting hit pretty bad with what i think was food poisoning. Don't know how that came about, if i ate more or less the same food as the rest. Maybe it was just that i enjoyed the food so much that i had much more than the rest (Indian McDonald's aside, which i refused to touch). But whatever the cause, i must say i've never had so much bonding time with a toilet seat as i did with the one in room 26 of the fourth floor of the N***** M*** School Hostel. Two whole days straight. The silver lining being that i could get away from the students for those two whole days. And in any case the staff there were most helpful, and even volunteered to bring me to the doctor to get some medication. Even if the doctor ended up being one in a place which, for someone adequately familiar with Malay/ Tagalog like me, was somewhat worryingly named "Saket Hospital" they still were great nevertheless.
In retrospect, i've learned a few things. 1) Going on a school trip as a student is a piece of cake. Going on a school trip as a teacher, on the other hand, well, ahem... 2) Always bring toilet paper wherever you go when you are overseas. 3) Money spent on inundating potential tourists with Incredible India publicity could instead be spent on things like streamlining the secure but still unnecessarily convoluted immigration and security clearance at the Delhi airport. Woohoo.
Now to try and put together a real holiday this June...
Granted it was nice to finally see India beyond the Mumbai (then known as Bombay) airport. Places like the old pink buildings in Jaipur and of course the Taj Mahal are definitely must-sees. Postcards and Incredible India adverts hardly do them justice - especially with the latter, to see it in person is a totally different experience altogether.
The people there whom we encountered were a very hospitable bunch. Unfortunately, in the middle of the trip i was the recipient of more hospitality than i had originally intended for, after getting hit pretty bad with what i think was food poisoning. Don't know how that came about, if i ate more or less the same food as the rest. Maybe it was just that i enjoyed the food so much that i had much more than the rest (Indian McDonald's aside, which i refused to touch). But whatever the cause, i must say i've never had so much bonding time with a toilet seat as i did with the one in room 26 of the fourth floor of the N***** M*** School Hostel. Two whole days straight. The silver lining being that i could get away from the students for those two whole days. And in any case the staff there were most helpful, and even volunteered to bring me to the doctor to get some medication. Even if the doctor ended up being one in a place which, for someone adequately familiar with Malay/ Tagalog like me, was somewhat worryingly named "Saket Hospital" they still were great nevertheless.
In retrospect, i've learned a few things. 1) Going on a school trip as a student is a piece of cake. Going on a school trip as a teacher, on the other hand, well, ahem... 2) Always bring toilet paper wherever you go when you are overseas. 3) Money spent on inundating potential tourists with Incredible India publicity could instead be spent on things like streamlining the secure but still unnecessarily convoluted immigration and security clearance at the Delhi airport. Woohoo.
Now to try and put together a real holiday this June...
Monday, March 29, 2010
so i still get out
Last Saturday i ended up going for yet another fun-o-rama. If not for the fact that for various reasons many (and boy do i mean many) $10-a-piece coupons tend to end up heading my way in the weeks leading up to the event, i probably wouldn't go for one anymore. And why should i, when at each successive one i go for i feel older and older, and more and more out of place, as teenage exuberance seems to saturate the air (as if i don't get enough of that at work), and i bump into less and less people from my time there.
And this year's one was no exception. On the plus side though, having been for so many of these by now, i've become pretty seasoned in terms of knowing what to do, and when i should do it. Like how i've learnt to hang around till near closing time in order to pick up stuff after their final mark-down. It may still be grossly overpriced, but at least you get some sense of satisfaction at having paid less than the early birds, who in this rare case, far from manage to catch the worm.
I've also learnt that if you're actually intending on purchasing the (again grossly overpriced) food, your best bet is to avoid potential D-class hygiene rated food prepared by the students (and i was in their shoes before, so i know how gross it can be), and instead head on over to the friendly folk at the Parents' Support Group stalls, as you have a greater sense of assurance that the food is safe to eat. (And having just come back from two days of, shall we say, intimate bonding with the toilet seat during the previous week's trip to India - more on that some other time perhaps - i was extra cautious).
And while we're on the topic of grossly overpriced food, i've just come back from my maiden trip to Chatterbox with the family, where of course i ended up finally trying the much ballyhooed $22++ Chicken Rice. As delightfully un-oily yet still very delicious as the soup was, and as intensely sesame-ish as the basting sauce for the chicken was, and of course as generous as the portion was, i can't imagine ever voluntarily paying that much for something like chicken rice. Not in Singapore at least. I do vaguely remember being tempted by i think it was US$11 chicken rice when i was at Penang in Chapel Hill, but even then i knew it wasn't worth it..
Glad to see a post that does not include my lamentations/complaints about work, for a change - they still exist, of course, but well, vive la différence.
And this year's one was no exception. On the plus side though, having been for so many of these by now, i've become pretty seasoned in terms of knowing what to do, and when i should do it. Like how i've learnt to hang around till near closing time in order to pick up stuff after their final mark-down. It may still be grossly overpriced, but at least you get some sense of satisfaction at having paid less than the early birds, who in this rare case, far from manage to catch the worm.
I've also learnt that if you're actually intending on purchasing the (again grossly overpriced) food, your best bet is to avoid potential D-class hygiene rated food prepared by the students (and i was in their shoes before, so i know how gross it can be), and instead head on over to the friendly folk at the Parents' Support Group stalls, as you have a greater sense of assurance that the food is safe to eat. (And having just come back from two days of, shall we say, intimate bonding with the toilet seat during the previous week's trip to India - more on that some other time perhaps - i was extra cautious).
And while we're on the topic of grossly overpriced food, i've just come back from my maiden trip to Chatterbox with the family, where of course i ended up finally trying the much ballyhooed $22++ Chicken Rice. As delightfully un-oily yet still very delicious as the soup was, and as intensely sesame-ish as the basting sauce for the chicken was, and of course as generous as the portion was, i can't imagine ever voluntarily paying that much for something like chicken rice. Not in Singapore at least. I do vaguely remember being tempted by i think it was US$11 chicken rice when i was at Penang in Chapel Hill, but even then i knew it wasn't worth it..
Glad to see a post that does not include my lamentations/complaints about work, for a change - they still exist, of course, but well, vive la différence.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
in a bit
I really want to get round to posting more here, especially when i've a lot to bleah about, but alas, circumstances always get in the way.
So watch this space and hopefully in due time, there'll be more stuff here than mere filler.
So watch this space and hopefully in due time, there'll be more stuff here than mere filler.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
rant & recuperation
Just about one year has passed since i first started at my current school. And as i see the latest batch of practicum people scurry around with blur looks on their faces i can't help but think back to when i was in their shoes, and realise how i've become somewhat less scurrying and blur than i was before.
However, becoming less blur has meant that i've become more immersed in teaching life, and at the same time more aware of the occasionally harsh realities of it all. Like how now realistically speaking i cannot spend an average of less than eleven hours at school each day because of the amount of work, lesson-related or otherwise that i have to deal with. Or how when i look at my class while i want to see a bunch of young individuals with so much worth and potential and who of course are very much loved by God, i instead cannot find it all but impossible to think of how just over seven weeks with them has left me physically, mentally, emotionally, and perhaps worst of all, spiritually spent. Or when i (admittedly in a rather voyeuristic manner, but only because i cannot find the opportunity to actually meet up with others) observe how people i know seem to have no problems with achieving the so-called work-life balance, when my own balance seems to be permanently tipped on the work end of the scale.
It makes things that much more frustrating, even with the sense of satisfaction that the job does still bring. Maybe it's because i'm too tired to feel sufficiently satisfied.
So i guess it's good that, to this end, i'm on course for the next few days, as though i cannot say that this will be an improvement from things in school, the break from the school environment for a couple of days (though that being said i probably still have to go back to school in the early morning to settle some things first on at least one of the upcoming days) is definitely welcome. The return to school the next week is another story altogether though =/
However, becoming less blur has meant that i've become more immersed in teaching life, and at the same time more aware of the occasionally harsh realities of it all. Like how now realistically speaking i cannot spend an average of less than eleven hours at school each day because of the amount of work, lesson-related or otherwise that i have to deal with. Or how when i look at my class while i want to see a bunch of young individuals with so much worth and potential and who of course are very much loved by God, i instead cannot find it all but impossible to think of how just over seven weeks with them has left me physically, mentally, emotionally, and perhaps worst of all, spiritually spent. Or when i (admittedly in a rather voyeuristic manner, but only because i cannot find the opportunity to actually meet up with others) observe how people i know seem to have no problems with achieving the so-called work-life balance, when my own balance seems to be permanently tipped on the work end of the scale.
It makes things that much more frustrating, even with the sense of satisfaction that the job does still bring. Maybe it's because i'm too tired to feel sufficiently satisfied.
So i guess it's good that, to this end, i'm on course for the next few days, as though i cannot say that this will be an improvement from things in school, the break from the school environment for a couple of days (though that being said i probably still have to go back to school in the early morning to settle some things first on at least one of the upcoming days) is definitely welcome. The return to school the next week is another story altogether though =/
Sunday, February 14, 2010
seeing red (again) (and again)
The many weeks since i've last posted here are a good indication of how busy i've been at school this year. It's been one crazy and long-drawn-out week after another, with all too brief weekend interludes which hardly allow me sufficient breathing space before Monday arrives again.
All this being the case, i ought to be grinning from ear to ear right now, since tomorrow and Tuesday are both school-free days thanks to the CNY hols. (And btw that's not so much because i've time to relax, but more that i've time to get a bit ahead of schedule with all the work that has to be done.) Instead i think i've not felt this bummed for a long time, at least not in 2010.
It's not because i've that much work to do (or that i'm behind schedule in trying to get it done) - i think that by now i've come to accept this as but the standard lot of a teacher. It definitely has to do more with the fact that this is cny, which more or less amounts to my least favourite holiday of the year. To make things even more intriguing, this year it's a double whammy - cny + valentine's day (not that i'm a bitter single, just that i think it's a plain waste of money). If they somehow ever managed to squeeze national day into the mix (thankfully something that is never going to happen) i'd be the first person to get a ticket to, say, India, where i reckon no one celebrates national day, only a minority celebrates cny, and if you celebrate v'day you run the risk of being torched by an angry fundamentalist hindu mob...
But at least until that happens i suppose i can look forward to the fact that it's just about two more weeks till this round of madness is over, when i can step into a supermarket/department store/ underground carpark without fear of another infernal racket that calls itself cny music. Of course, that will also be when school becomes even more busy. Awshucks..
All this being the case, i ought to be grinning from ear to ear right now, since tomorrow and Tuesday are both school-free days thanks to the CNY hols. (And btw that's not so much because i've time to relax, but more that i've time to get a bit ahead of schedule with all the work that has to be done.) Instead i think i've not felt this bummed for a long time, at least not in 2010.
It's not because i've that much work to do (or that i'm behind schedule in trying to get it done) - i think that by now i've come to accept this as but the standard lot of a teacher. It definitely has to do more with the fact that this is cny, which more or less amounts to my least favourite holiday of the year. To make things even more intriguing, this year it's a double whammy - cny + valentine's day (not that i'm a bitter single, just that i think it's a plain waste of money). If they somehow ever managed to squeeze national day into the mix (thankfully something that is never going to happen) i'd be the first person to get a ticket to, say, India, where i reckon no one celebrates national day, only a minority celebrates cny, and if you celebrate v'day you run the risk of being torched by an angry fundamentalist hindu mob...
But at least until that happens i suppose i can look forward to the fact that it's just about two more weeks till this round of madness is over, when i can step into a supermarket/department store/ underground carpark without fear of another infernal racket that calls itself cny music. Of course, that will also be when school becomes even more busy. Awshucks..
Friday, January 22, 2010
hunger or horror?
Since as of late i've been spending pretty much half of every calendar weekday in school, it has become necessary to have meals (or at least some sort of food) there. There have been times though, when i've missed eating a single thing in school whatsoever, meaning that i've at least on a handful of occasions taken my first taste of food at around seven/eightish, due to only being free to eat when all the canteen stalls would have already closed. And while the seemingly legendary food center lies just opposite, the phrase "so near yet so far" could not be more fitting than it is in this case.
While this had pretty much been the situation since i first entered the school, it has only occurred to me recently that i could actually keep a stash of food in the office so that i would at least have something to fall back upon. Unfortunately, this epiphany of mine has coincided with the start of the cny season. In other words, it's time for the annual bone-chilling assault on my eardrums that is the cny songs played ad nauseaum in supermarkets.
I wonder if i've some kind of clinical phobia of these horrid dongdongqiangqiang numbers. I say this because driven by hunger, i've tried to brave the onslaught of overenthusiastic dizi music and incomprehensible (by me) Chinese couplets rattled off in unison by the seemingly endless number of annoying singers, only to find myself covering my ears as well as i can with my hands while scanning through the aisles of snacks for suitable food. I probably would remind people of the hear no evil monkey. That makes sense though - the hear no evil part, not the monkey part - since as far as i'm concerned such music is as evil as it gets.
Maybe i should get in touch with cold storage delivery...
(On a completely unrelated note i couldn't help but chuckle when i read the first bit of this report in the ST a few days back. I don't know if it was meant to hint at the quality (or in many cases, lack thereof) of teaching at nie in general, but at least when i was reading the opening line, which said that "Their best lessons were not in the lecture theatres at the NIE", i couldn't help but think to myself that i couldn't agree more :p )
While this had pretty much been the situation since i first entered the school, it has only occurred to me recently that i could actually keep a stash of food in the office so that i would at least have something to fall back upon. Unfortunately, this epiphany of mine has coincided with the start of the cny season. In other words, it's time for the annual bone-chilling assault on my eardrums that is the cny songs played ad nauseaum in supermarkets.
I wonder if i've some kind of clinical phobia of these horrid dongdongqiangqiang numbers. I say this because driven by hunger, i've tried to brave the onslaught of overenthusiastic dizi music and incomprehensible (by me) Chinese couplets rattled off in unison by the seemingly endless number of annoying singers, only to find myself covering my ears as well as i can with my hands while scanning through the aisles of snacks for suitable food. I probably would remind people of the hear no evil monkey. That makes sense though - the hear no evil part, not the monkey part - since as far as i'm concerned such music is as evil as it gets.
Maybe i should get in touch with cold storage delivery...
(On a completely unrelated note i couldn't help but chuckle when i read the first bit of this report in the ST a few days back. I don't know if it was meant to hint at the quality (or in many cases, lack thereof) of teaching at nie in general, but at least when i was reading the opening line, which said that "Their best lessons were not in the lecture theatres at the NIE", i couldn't help but think to myself that i couldn't agree more :p )
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
the elusive eight
There couldn't have been a bigger shift in lifestyle for me than between two weeks ago and now, with the beginning of school once again. There's a lot going on with me in school right now, and suffice to say that the words stamina and endurance immediately come to mind when i think of what i'll need to have a good semester ahead. Hence the sudden break midway through my attempt at doing a decent log of my recent trip. That will hopefully resume in due course (latest by the March holidays =p).
From last year, and of course presently as well, i've been lamenting as to how i can hardly seem to get a decent amount of sleep nowadays. The magic number is the elusive eight, which was often exceeded during the last few weeks of the break, after i had gotten back from the trip. Now on school nights i usually settle for six, and often end up with fiveish instead, waking up grumpy and then secretly scowling at the auntie whom i sometimes see at the bus stop smiling and greeting her fellow passengers at six thirty in the morning, wondering how anyone can be of such a cheerful disposition at that hour.
And just now in the shower it suddenly occurred to me to do the math and figure out why i'm ending up with so little sleep (relatively speaking, of course, since my work email inbox oounts the hours of one to three am as some of the most active in terms of incoming mail from colleagues). It all started to make sense, since with twelve hour days coupled with another hour a day for getting to and from school, it leaves me with just three hours to play with for anything else, if i am even to catch a whiff of eight hours of sleep per night. Not possible. Partly because i waste precious time on busy days like this doing things like typing this. Oops.
From last year, and of course presently as well, i've been lamenting as to how i can hardly seem to get a decent amount of sleep nowadays. The magic number is the elusive eight, which was often exceeded during the last few weeks of the break, after i had gotten back from the trip. Now on school nights i usually settle for six, and often end up with fiveish instead, waking up grumpy and then secretly scowling at the auntie whom i sometimes see at the bus stop smiling and greeting her fellow passengers at six thirty in the morning, wondering how anyone can be of such a cheerful disposition at that hour.
And just now in the shower it suddenly occurred to me to do the math and figure out why i'm ending up with so little sleep (relatively speaking, of course, since my work email inbox oounts the hours of one to three am as some of the most active in terms of incoming mail from colleagues). It all started to make sense, since with twelve hour days coupled with another hour a day for getting to and from school, it leaves me with just three hours to play with for anything else, if i am even to catch a whiff of eight hours of sleep per night. Not possible. Partly because i waste precious time on busy days like this doing things like typing this. Oops.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tongue Twisted
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...
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 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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