English Chinese Computer August 14, 2008

(Sidebar-I have not listened to one single thing on my ipod since i left besides breakestra and jason mraz. Thats weird right?  I mean not one lick of another song. )

I don’t know if I mentioned that I was TESOL “certified” while I was in Thailand.  It is a sad state of the world when I am “certified” to teach English after 2 weeks.  The name of the teacher training school is ECC. So the obvious first question is…what does ECC stand for, right?  To our amazement, we were told that the name of the place is English Chinese Computer.  For real, though, what does it mean?  Nope. English Chinese Computer. So what do you think?  I think that will definitely set me apart from the competition, when I put that I completed a 2 week TESOL course at English Chinese Computer on my resume.

Our teachers names were Paul and Garth. God bless those guys!  Paul is from England and Garth is from South Africa to give you an idea of what English Chinese Computer is all about.  I think I was definitely their favorite student, or shall I say favourite?  I would make it a point to speak with my English accent as much as possible, which I know Paul appreciated.  I think I made him feel at home.  I think overall we handeled the classes pretty well. Teaching is SCARY MARY.  It is the strangest feeling to stand in front of a group of people and have them stare at you because they have no clue what the hell you are talking about.  Not really my bag but I guess while I am working in Jambi I have to teach a few classes so perhaps it was useful.  But back to English Chinese Computer.  We were put into groups of about 6 or 7 people, our “teaching” groups.  Basically we would each teach 15 minutes of a what should have been an hour and a half lesson. Typically our lessons would run about 3 hours.  Yes, we would immediately run to the 7-11 and drink a beer in the truck when it was all over, even though it seemed that once we were done with one lesson we had to start planning the next.  The teaching was somewhat collaborative, which was also scary, each section building on the next.  I thank baby j all day that it is over.  Seemed more stressful while I was in it then it does now when I am looking back on it.

So, moving on, new topic…the palace I just moved into.  I know I mentioned that I had experienced a bit of a homestay nightmare. Well, folks, I have just stepped into my dreams. To give you an idea of where I was coming from, the first homestay (let me first say the people were just lovely) smelled like pee.  There, I said it.  I really think that who ever was the last owner/user of the mattress must have had bladder control issues.  Additionally, I don’t think the place had been dusted since the mid 70′s.  I know that sounds picky but it is not an exageration.  The 70′s.  The water that was intended for me to wash my body with (its all about bucket showers here) was filled with mosquito larvae and dirt.  Not really my idea of a good time.  So it really came down to whether or not I could sleep in a bed that was saturated with pee, and after about 2 minutes of soul searching I decided that there was no way in the world I could do it. In fact I slept on the floor with the bugs.  So VIA put me up in a guesthouse (Sweet!) for the past week.  I begged and pleaded to stay, but VIA said I had to move into another homestay.  Ok..fine…

HOLLA!  I am living in a palace.  Ok, maybe not a palace but definitely a mansion by Indonesian standards. This “homestay” is really just a vey wealthy family that has about 8 extra rooms, which they rent out to foreigners.  This place has hot water showers (no cold water buckets!), flat screen tv, wi-fi, an endless supply of servants, who among other things cook, clean and do MY laundry! I must sound like a crazy person but this is like living in a P-Diddy music video without all the booties shaking.  There is cable with American programs!!  As I sit here, typing away, the table is being set by one servant and the food is being cooked by another.  That’s just how they roll in Indo.  Actually, the whole “servant” thing is interesting here. If you can afford one, you have one. It is your way of giving back to society, taking care of someone less fortunate.

This weekend is a HUGE celebration, Indonesia Independence Day.  I am going on an overnight camping trip to the beach that was arranged by my  language school.  It is about 15 teachers and staff and about 25 students.  It should be good fun. It is Rp. 50.000 (about $5US) for everything, food, transport, snorkeling, everything!  Although part of me just wants to spend my day off lounging around this palace…did I mention the balcony?  And a workout room.

Well, I am going to take a hot shower before my 8 course dinner.

whatcha up to August 10, 2008

Ok. So we are here in Indonesia.  There is a bunch of us, Dave is the Canadian with so many bugbites he kind of looks like he has chickenpox and he is always taking pictures, Heather is from Pennsylvania and used to milk cows.  There is Ben, a doll, really, and does he do a mean British accent! Mars, Marcia, some call her Marisa-from New York, very Hilary-esque (Taub that is).  Josh is typical Indo, hip hop extraordinaire, my little brother in some circles.  Kristi has been working in Vietnam, then Laos and now is doing this.  We have all been together EVERY day. Every night.   We are a very interesting family at this point.

We left Chiang Mai and flew to Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia. Had several hours layover and then made it to Jakarta where we stayed at the VIA house.  For anyone who doesnt know, I brought my blanket from home.  I know, it doesn’t seem like me to do something so ridiculous but I did. And then I left it on the plane.  How annoying right?  But, alas, they found our group and hand delivered it.  But it is the blanket that got me through the homestay from hell…

But I will spare anyone reading this the details. I think I have been talking about it too much to really feel like writing about it.  We made it to Yogyakarta in one piece, blankets and all.  It is a miracle.  The overnight train was not especially terrible or great. Thank baby jesus for tiger balm, though, because the smell of pee did linger longer than we would have liked. Smudge some of that greasy stuff on your top lip and you are in business!  And thank god for the non-Muslim in charge of making the food/drink menu. There was beer, which Marisa and I drank out of a straw. My first time, possibly the last, I haven’t decided.  We started language classes at Wisma Bahasa, which is a language school.  They are going well.  The language isn’t too difficult, it is just the remembering everything that is starting to become a pain.   Not too much really going on.  I have pancakes for breakfast on the roof of the guesthouse I am staying in every morning.  They are more like crepes, thin pancakes. They are served with honey and a side of pineapple.  The coffee is less than impressive, for Java that is.  I mean, it is basically an inch or so of black sludge at the bottom of your cup.  Not my idea of a good time, so I have since made the move back to tea.  The food here is really fantastic. Alot of it is fried, which I try to stay away from.  The tempeh is like nothing in the states. The flavor is insane!! I could easily be a vegetarian with food like this.

I have a cell phone here so if anyone has some extra minutes on their international calling cards, feel free to give me a ring. The number is 011 62 812 27 433601.