http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NfukDThDTp0
Check this out, a hilarious youtube video which is a great example of the local "English", so-called Singlish!!! :)
It is now official, the bells that you hear may not only be of the silver or jingling variety but also wedding bells for Imola and me. I proposed to Imola yesterday, on her birthday, atop the Singapore Flyer.
Everything is pretty much all set for the ceremony, we will be having our 'solemnization' as the locals call it at the Registry of Marriages on January 12th, 2009. We will be witnessed by our good friend Michelle and a teacher from our school who had her wedding here as well. Our wedding clothing will be quite nice, as Imola bought her white chiffon dress from a store which employs local tailors and I am having a navy blue suit made by a tailor on Orchard Road. Her shoes are being ordered from Korea and our rings are coming from the US. Imola has been wearing her pearl engagement ring since yesterday on the Flyer.
After the wedding we will go celebrate with a nice meal at a Japanese restaurant and then just relax for the rest of the day. Honeymoon plans are TBA. Obviously, we wish that our family and friends could be here with us to share this day and we will make it up to everybody as soon as we can :)
A very Merry Christmas and Boldog Karácsony to all who read this blog, have a safe and happy holiday and I will catch up with you around New Year's Eve!!!
…valami más is történt…
Úgy két és fél évvel ezelőtt, egy júliusi nap délutánján meghívást kaptam egy italra, a munkaidőnk végeztével. Aznap délután 6 óra óta, két és fél éve ezzel a fiúval osztom meg az életemet.
Mindenki ismeri őt ugye, ő Michael Allen Chance, a kis amerikai, aki jó humorú, barátságos, segítőkész, aki imád utazni és a könyvolvasás rabja. (És számára a peanut butter, az fincsiság.) Bizony ő az! : )
Úgy ítéltük meg, hogy elérkezetté vált az idő, az örök ígéretekhez!
Az élet csak egy jót ad nekünk:
Azé lehetünk, akit szeretünk.
Lope de Vega
Házasságot fogunk kötni! : )
2009. január 12-én, 16:15 perckor, itt Szingapúrban
The school has got me working on Saturdays, so my weekend is Sunday and Monday now. Actually, I like it, because Monday is (obviously) a work day so to have that day off feels like a real vacation. Imola is on a six day work week at the school, plus she teaches her Korean student on the Internet on Sundays, so she is a busy gal.
On Sunday morning, Imola's Internet class was canceled due to technical difficulties, and that pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day. We found it difficult to get started, but we finally dragged ourselves out of bed and walked down to the grocery store for food. Lunch was Macaroni & Cheese with added chicken for Mike, tuna and lettuce with an apple for Imola. That done, we went back upstairs to loll about in our room during some rainy weather. The wireless Internet connection doesn't work too well when it is cloudy, so we couldn't even update the blog or plan a getaway for next week's three-day weekend.
At 3:30, I made a phone call to a local woman named Anne to confirm our afternoon plans together. First, some backstory. Last weekend, on Saturday evening, Imola and I were out in the "Heartlands" of Singapore (this means 'suburbs' in local speak) on a mission related to our future business plans. We were there to assess a local block party, which is a common event organized by a local community center or office with the purpose of having a celebration for local residents. This particular one was a potluck and slideshow of recent milestones in local infrastructure improvements. While there, we were (no better way to put this) socially accosted by a super-friendly local resident of Chinese descent. Long story short, just a few minutes later we had exchanged phone numbers and agreed to help her do some volunteer work the following weekend. We spoke again that Monday (one week ago today) and agreed to meet on Sunday afternoon at the MRT station near the block party location. I called her again at 3:30 on Sunday (yesterday) to confirm, got the green light, and we went to meet her.
From the MRT station in her area, the three of us took a bus to a street on which the two largest buildings are a home for the intellectually disabled and a Presbyterian Church. We went into the church first. I should note that Anne hardly speaks English and hadn't confirmed any of the activities we were supposed to be doing, so throughout all of this Imola and I were always just waiting to see what would happen next. Anne told us that she needed to meet "her friend" who would go with us to the volunteering opportunity, and the first place she took us was the afternoon service of the Zion Bible Presbyterian Church. We had coincidentally arrived just in time for the start of the service, and as each second ticked on through the piano solo opening number it was looking more and more like a setup. I asked Anne as soon as we sat down if she intended to stay for the entire service, but all I got was more vague concerns about meeting her friend here. Imola and I exchanged a look of peaceful resignation as the deacon began speaking and the usher locked the entrance door from the inside. We listened to the deacon's concerns about the failing international economic situation and increases in joblessness, and as he finished Anne informed us that she was going off to look for her friend. "We are coming with you," we insisted. We went upstairs to the church offices, completely staffed by persons of Indian descent although I didn't see a single Indian in the congregation downstairs (which by the way was about a dozen elderly Singaporean/Chinese). There, Anne spoke briefly to a church Elder before we left the premises. Once downstairs, Anne crossed the church parking lot to the chain link fence closest to the home for the intellectually disabled. She began to shout - across the sluiceway separating the two properties and into a large open-air courtyard in which about 30 patients were sitting or milling about. "Oh, my" we each thought, "this situation is not improving." She managed to attract the attention of a staff member who, accustomed to dealing with nonstandard human behavior, directed her to the main entrance at the street. We went around to the front door of the facility, where we were met by a fifty-something Singaporean/Chinese woman with a severe case of MSG-head.
Let's stop down here for a quick break and explanation of the term "MSG-head." A disproportionate number of Chinese and Singaporeans of Chinese descent, both male and female, experience above-average hair loss, especially from the crown area. Some would say that this is hereditary, and others say that it is helped along by a lifetime of high salt/MSG consumption. That is one reason that we now avoid the hawker markets. I'm just sayin'.
We were not sure if MSG-head was the long-awaited 'friend' or not, but we guessed 'not' after she disappeared pretty quickly. We were led to sign in to the Volunteer sign-in book, and then on into the open-air courtyard itself. Keep in mind that the atmosphere is pure confusion - Imola and I don't know what is going on but are just here to help, nothing is happening according to Anne's 'plan' either, and she is trying to save face with us by talking to the staff, the staff don't know who we are or why we are here, and several of the more mobile patients have run over to get medication from the staff and/or shake hands with us. After just a few long minutes it is obvious that all three of us want to leave. The staff clarifies to us that volunteer opportunities are limited to the weekdays, so I thank them for this information and walk out the door. Outside, we inform Anne that we will now be going home and she escorts us back to the Community Center next door to the MRT station. WHEW!
Blogging and reading blogs is all about the sharing of information which is not normally available to all people in all places. For those of you who don't know what a Singaporean mental institution or Presbyterian church is really like, you can find out now. Briefly, like most Singaporean services, it appeared pretty well run (especially compared to those of other countries). The elbow surgery I had in Hungary allowed me to spend a few days getting a close-up view of a Hungarian mental asylum, and that was very Silence of the Lambs. Metal bars on the windows, random screaming from inside a forbidding hospital ward, yeah. In contrast, the institution we visited was very clean, of course minimalist in furnishing, and fully staffed with professional people according to their appearance and behavior. The patients were dressed in secondhand clothes, and though I couldn't determine how any of them might occupy themselves with anything other than sitting or walking, they seemed well taken care of. Obviously, I spent about five minutes with them so I really don't know anything except for what I saw.
The Church was slightly different, with better clothing but an equal amount of sitting and standing. This modern church which offers "bible study" and "fellowship" seemed to be angling to attract that type of person who is overwhelmed by this 'fast-paced' life which has become the norm in the West. The opening 'Call to Worship' we heard had a message that was echoed in the promotional material for their upcoming Christmas play "It's a Christmas Thing." In full: Fran goes to Liau's Emporium in search of the Christmas "thing." She knows it happens once a year: celebrations, filled with bright lights, gifts and holiday cheer. But none of that is quite what she's looking for. She meets with Oscar the lift attendant, who takes her on a journey to find out what Christmas really is. What it truly means to him. To her, to us, to Him. What is the source of this Christmas joy?
It is indisputable that a great number of Singaporeans experience personal fulfillment through shopping or just being in department stores. They are also really into the Christmas shopping theme. It nearly seems to be the next logical step when a church offers entertainment oriented towards those losing their interest in this material society.
More later from the unbalanced side of Singapore - thanks for reading!
Imola most angolul irt a blogon, és arra döntöttem hogy ha én magyarul irom akkor az nagyon 50-50. Csücs le, figyi rám, és agyba főbe vérlek a nyelvemmel. Az a baj, hogy nincs újsondág miről irhatom. Imola már régen mesélt el, hogy mennyire jó a kaja, utcák, munkánk, satőbbi. Remélem hogy nektek érdekelne ha elmagyarázom a legfurcsább dolgok ebben az országban.
#1 – zene. Nem nem, nincs „Zene” Szingapúr-ban, mint az egyetemen. Arra beszélek, inkabb, a különleges ázsiai zene. Itt, csak egy ok miatt az emberek zenét hallgatnak: karaoke gyakorlásra. Mindent szam ugyanolyan – egy énekes, egy hagyományos számitogépes hattér dal, és egy régi szerelem. Sokszor röhögött az Imola, amikor új szöveget énekelek az étteremben „I was a fool to cheat on you….I swear my cousin means nothing to me….” Az összes egy mondattal: egy macska és egy turmixgép találkozott. Bocsi!
#2 – külföldiek. Az egyik diákom azt mondta, hogy az egész 4 millió emberből Szingapúrán, egy millió külföldi. Nem vagyok biztos, de lehet. Íme a fajták: Indaiak meg Bangladesik, azok épülnek a nagy bevásárloközpontokat meg a hatalmas nagy új casinókat (2010-ben fog megnyílni). Filipinák, minden nő, aki segitenek a gyerekneveléssel. Ha valaki egy puskát ad mindegyik nőnek, vége az ország. Malay, Thai, Indonéz mindent normális munka csinál – főzés, tisztitás, boltban és benzinkútban dolgoz. Fehér emberek mindent csinal – sok munka kevés pénzért, irodai munka, MaSzek valállkozás, művészet, és profi lusta haziássonyok aki a gazdasággi rendszert tamogatjak.
#3 – Fish Spa. Igen, Fish meg Spa (gyógyfürdő). Van egy olyan hely, ahol lehetséges egy akváriumba tunkolni a lábad, sok kicsi halacska oda szaladnak és a ronda holt talpa bőröd megesznek rólad. Minden magyarnak csak egy reakció van: b-meg.
Today I want to spend some time taking my readers on a tour of the English language school where Imola and I work. Let’s get the disclaimer out of the way: This unidentified language school is AWESOME and I never want to leave. That said, follow me…
Kids classes
“It was a relief the lady was alive. Unfortunately, she had multiple slash wounds to her head and abdomen.”
“There was a menacing glint in his eyes that stabbed a dagger of fear into her heart.”
Excerpts from the latest Dean Koontz novel? Not so much. These are actual quotes from Imola’s teaching materials, which were designed for use with 8 to 10 year old children. I guess it is a peep through a keyhole into the Singapore national character (maybe), but whatever it is, I don’t like it. FYI, these quotes come from two different books, from two different local Singaporean publishers.
My kids class starts next week, and the timing of the start of class is no accident. East Asia is certainly a continent which puts great value on education, but of all the countries of the region it is the Koreans who take the cake for zeal. Korean parents push their children to great lengths in the name of education, including sending them, sometimes alone, to a faraway country to take intensive courses in the usual subjects. These particular Korean children are here studying in a regular Singaporean government-sponsored school (“public school” to Americans). Of course I asked how they could have time to come to my class in the middle of each day for four hours, and was told “Oh, the Singapore schools have a seven-week winter holiday, and the children will have your English class during that time.” Don’t even think about vacation, son.
Adult classes
I have nothing but glowing comments regarding my adult students, who are a mix of Korean and Japanese nationals. The men are all here for work, the women are all here because of their husbands, and every last one of them is a dedicated, enthusiastic, and fast-learning English student. At this point, some of my friends who taught with me in Japan would say “wait a sec, Mike, did you just use the words ‘fast, learning, English, and student’ to describe a Japanese person?” and I would say “Yes, believe it or not.” Imagine teaching French to a group of American adults inside America. It would be difficult. Slow progress, chronic poor pronunciation, and stilted conversation would be the norm. Now, imagine the same teacher giving a class to a different group of Americans who were living and working in Marseille. It would flow much better, while both the students and the teacher got more out of the class. That is what is happening here. It is a different stripe of Japanese which volunteers to take a posting overseas, or who has the guts to leave the safety of their apartment in a strange land.
Teachers
English schools are known to be a melting pot of nations, ideas, accents, and personalities. This one is no different. We have UK/Indian, American/Taiwanese, and Swiss/Singaporean, Brit, Japanese, Kiwi and Australian teachers, plus a Texan and a Hungarian. So far, no bad experiences. The school gives us materials and plenty of latitude to decide what to do in class, which is all an experienced teacher could ask for. This also means that there is no squabbling about what is the best way to teach English or whose curry rice is better. The management is professional and the school location is excellent as it is right on Orchard Road, the famous shopping street. My commute is 40 minutes door to door.
Mike és én repdestünk az örömtől, hogy itt csücsülünk az ázsiai “étel főváros” közepén. Úgy tűnt, hogy a finom egzotikus ételek fogyasztása csupán csak egy karnyújtás, és tadaa előttünk is van az ízletes gőzölgő étel.
