A Sub-Blog

I'm temporarily suspending work on this blog and diverting all adventures to this one:

http://blog.travelpod.com/travel-blog/holyrockthrower/3/tpod.html

Feel free to go look at it.

The Girl Who Cried Gulf

'Bout time y'all knew it.  I'm going to Qatar this Sunday/Monday.

I said somewhere on here, a long time ago, that I've worked in anti-climate change activism.  And, as far as I'm concerned, I still do.  My future on this earth is too damn important for me to brush aside all knowledge of what I have learned is going to happen within my lifetime.  I've laid dormant for a couple of years, but there's a UN Climate Change conference in Doha, Qatar.  When I heard about it, I was like this:

I must go to it.

And I will.  For my love of climate change activism is surpassed only by my chronic infatuation with Arab Gulf States.  Both together create an emotional gravitational pull from which I am incapable of extricating myself.

So, Phnom Penh is temporarily deferred to my Doha activism fun...but first I've got to go to Bangkok.  And Sri Lanka.  See you there.

The Big O

After my Khmer lesson today, I took a moto taxi to Sorya mall (closest landmark to my house), where I ate a meal at Barbecue Chicken.

When I was finished, I left and walked home.  As I came to Norodom, I saw a confounding assembly of cars and motos pooled in the middle of the road.  Thinking there had been an accident, I walked closer to investigate.  As I did so, I saw that the road had been barricaded by the police; as I walked further towards Norodom, I saw that the street had been totally blocked off and lay deserted.

Upon crossing the street, I saw that cars were backed up bumper-to-bumper on the side streets.  I wended my way through and into my apartment, fed the cats, laid down, read some stuff I'd downloaded on the computer, decided I wanted ice-cream, and went back out.

The streets were still clogged; Norodom was still shut down.

Now I'm used to the streets being shut down all the time for VIPs, the Prime Minister, and even the king.  The police shut everything down for a couple of minutes so that the Big Names can proceed unimpeded, but the thing is, it's just that--the streets are shut down for less than 3 minutes.  Then everything resumes as normal.  But this was like over 20 minutes, and involved police with light sabers on every street corner.

To me, only one man in the whole world could be behind this:  President Obama.

I checked it out, and sure enough, Obama is here in town for the ASEAN talks.  This is the first time a US president has visited Cambodia since 1970, before the Khmer Rouge, so this is sort of a big deal.  People were gathering on the sidewalks to watch.

And lo and behold, I saw his cavalcade flying down the street just past 10 pm this evening...yeah, I actually stood there for hours and waited.  I'm kind of a "huge international events junkie", so things like this excite me.

This marks the 5th time I have directly crossed paths with Barack Obama, in cities all over the world.

• Before he was president, he came to my college campus to campaign.  I climbed up to a balcony, aimed my camera at him, and got a shot right as he looked up at me and waved.  We made eye contact, and I waved back.  I'll never forget that.
• When I went to the G-20 in Pittsburgh in 2009 as an activist (not one of "those" activists), I was walking though a back alley with my friend Kyle when suddenly, Obama's cavalcade drove right past us on the other end.  We were like, Holy crap, the President of the United States just drove past.
• At the COP15 climate talks in Copenhagen, Obama dropped in at the last minute to try to broker an agreement.  I was standing outside in the cold with protest signs at the time.
• In the summer of 2008, when he was still "Senator Obama", we petitioned him directly in his Washington DC office to aid refugees in Darfur.  I went along as "support" (I'm not from Illinois) and didn't say that much.  There may even have been another time, too, that I'm forgetting...I was in and out of DC all of 2008 and 2009.
• And just now.

How does this keep happening to me?  Many more happy returns, President Obama!!

Obnoxious Cat Lover on the Loose!

I'm really glad I got those kittens.  I'm finding them rewarding so far.  They depend on me for everything, and each day I go get them some fish.  I clean their litter box.  I play with them and watch them wrestle.  Whenever I get home, they come over seeking love and attention.  Being Asians (the breed), they're highly vocal and seek lots of high-spirited interaction.  At night, they sleep on my head.

And they're clever--I didn't even know how bright and curious cats really were till I watched them carefully explore and study every object they came across in my apartment.  They don't interact and take cues the way that dogs do, but they are attentive and learn quickly.  The recognize me and feel safe with me...I find them very therapeutic.  It's like they give my life meaning!

If you've never had to kitten-proof your home, though, you've never lived.  It's like living with wild ferrets!  I spend so much time cleaning up after them; I think my house has been consistently the cleanest its ever been. They're helping me keep discipline, that's for sure.

They're good for me.

The Week From ... Somewhere

Well, it's been one of "those" weeks.

I missed 3/5 Khmer lessons because I couldn't get to the school in time.  I don't know if it's because of high-tourism at this time of the year, or if it's because of the ASEAN talks going on this week, or if I'm just nuts...but there didn't seem to be that many motodops around this week.  The guys at the usual corner were gone, and I walked halfway across town on Tuesday before just giving up.  I was like, "Wow, this is so unlike Phnom Penh."

Also, I get to look after a co-worker's cat.  It's actually the mother of the two kittens I just adopted.  He's going away for term break, so I offered to keep her at my place.  The only problem is that she now hates her kittens and attacks them if they come within a certain radius of her.  Does anyone know why that would happen?  I guess they're "competition" now that they've been separated.  Damn, I'm so ignorant of cats...I could tell you anything you want to know about dogs, rats, or pigs...but not cats.  I assumed they'd be like dogs, somehow.

The final exam was intended to be on Wednesday this term, but due to the King's death and the consequent cancellation of classes, it had been moved to Thursday.  But then, because of the ASEAN talks I mentioned, it was moved back to Wednesday, on Tuesday morning.  So the students were notified of the change 24 hours in advance (some of them weren't even in class) and for some reason, everyone still had to come in on Thursday.

Y'all are going to tell me I'm a negative complainer again, I know.  All my adventures are.  But, I'm really not complaining.  Hardly any students showed up on Thursday, plus one who wasn't notified of the change in schedule, and hadn't taken the exam.  I sent everyone home, gave her a copy of the exam, and moved the Mother Cat into my apartment.  Then I picked up my renewed visa (I'm staying another year) just in time to collect her finished exam and turn in the attendance sheets.  Not bad for a paid hour on Thursday morning!  I love last minute changes for this reason.

Then I bought fish at market.  For the cats.

In all, it's been an interesting week.  And I'm not complaining so stfu.

I Can Haz Kitteh!

Throughout my childhood, I wanted a pet cat.  My mother, however, had severe allergies and so I remained catless for the last 30 years.  All that changes today with the adoption of two grey kittens, which I will hold prisoner in my apartment to compensate for my lost childhood.

 They are cute.

KITTEZ

they r awesom

They freak my hedgehog out, and one day, hopefully, they'll learn to catch the mice and cockroaches that have colonized my apartment.  Anyway, that's the highlight of the year (other than the incident on the first day, and the day I bought the hedgehog).

And thus, I continue to indulge all my childhood fantasies before the age of 30.

Language Skills

I've finally started on the second book in my Khmer lessons (there are 5 total).

I've so far got the basics down, which means not actually all that much.  I've somehow acquired the probably-annoying habit of repeating the last few words anyone says to me--mostly because I can't really process that fast.  Also because it makes me look attentive (I'm usually less attentive than I appear...or more attentive than I appear.  Let's put it like this, my mind's not usually doing what you'd expect).  If I repeat words, my teacher thinks I'm "listening".  :)

I've also got the word "No" down.  I can't necessarily agree with you or add any comments to what you say in Khmer, but at least I can express my dissent.

I'm also completely unintelligeable to native speakers of Khmer, meaning I have to repeat myself multiple times when trying to engage in simple conversation (such as "go to the bank").  I find it insanely disheartening, but maybe I just need to practice more outside class.

In all, you could say I've got the linguistic skills of a two year old--I can understand basic things, communicate at a level no one but those who already know me can understand, and shout NO.

So, at the end of book 2, I should have the skills of a FOUR year old! :D

The King is Dead, Part II

I know it's old news by now, but I did in fact go to the funeral procession this Wednesday, 17 Oct 2012.

It was one of the more incredible displays of solidarity and goodwill I've seen, and that includes my days as an international youth activist.  I have not been given an official number, but an estimated 300,000 citizens of Cambodia turned out on the streets to pay homage to the King Father as his body was taken back to the Royal Palace.

Everyone lined the main streets in their funeral attire--hundreds of thousands of people.  For hours.  The only crowd I have witnessed comparable to this (within my short 29 years, anyway) was that of the Washington DC protest against the Iraq War.  In a country this size, that's really saying something!

If you're wondering what that might have looked like, well, it was like this (in front of the Royal Palace).  You can see mourning attire is dark pants and a white shirt.:

And this:

And this (on Sothearos Blvd):

And this (on Sihanouk):

And this (on the corner of Sihanouk and Sothearos):

And this:

Predictably, it was difficult to get across town for my afternoon lesson.  And to be honest, I'm sorry I went to it, because I managed to miss the procession itself.  So, I don't have pictures of that, but I do have pictures of the solidarity and goodwill of the Cambodian people.

Here's something impressive and moving I apparently missed in its full resplendent glory:

As night fell, I made it back into town.  The whole palace was lit up in commemoration of the King Father, and people were offering prayers.

In other news, October 17th is the 2-year anniversary of the day I fled from China to Cambodia.  I'd wish all of this was somehow a magic wish in honor of this date...but sadly, it was not.  Rest in peace, Your Majesty.

The King Is Dead

I walked into class this morning.  I was all happy and chipper and well-rested after my 5-day Pchum Ben holiday.  Eager to spread the goodwill, I bubbled on about how everyone's holiday was.

I was kind of surprised when I was unequivocally informed that the holidays had universally been "bad".  Given that the culture emphasizes smiling and always being "happy", I was rather taken aback.

Turns out that somehow, without my knowledge or consent, the King Father, Norodom, passed away Monday afternoon in a hospital in Beijing, China.  He was 90 (so this wasn't entirely unexpected).  My students, nonetheless, were incredibly depressed about it; it was as though a personal family member had died.  I marvel at this, having watched several former US presidents state funerals without batting an eye.

Even in the remotest areas of the farthest flung provinces, people found out about this within minutes.  Yet, somehow, I managed to evade knowledge of this for 48 hours.  I hate being the last to know!  I guess that's what happens if you live inside a TV-less, Khmer-less, friendless bubble--you  miss out on stuff.

Classes were then cancelled in the afternoon--except that students got wind of this and decided that morning classes were also cancelled.  No one was in my classroom when I walked in for my second session--they'd all abandoned ship.  As a consequence, I went home at 9:30 today, past the Royal Palace.

The Royal Palace is the reason that classes were cancelled.  King Norodom's body is being flown in from Beijing and taken to the Royal Palace for exhibition.  Consequently, the cortege will be traveling through town; there is a giant memorial outside the palace that was forming even as I walked in this morning.  I was wondering why there there were so many military guys out front...!

Streets are blocked off even just a block down from my apartment; I expect there will be a pretty big crowd forming; dignitaries are expected to be in town for the next week or so.

Dunno how I'm getting to my Khmer lesson today, or if my school will even be accessible tomorrow morning.  Meh.  Whatever.  Even though it's a life-and-death situation, I guess it's not a life-and-death situation.

More Super-Negativistic, Waste-of-Your-Time Bullshit from the Front Lines

The last two months have been uneventful.  I've been doing exactly what I was doing two months ago--teaching my two morning classes and taking Khmer lessons in the afternoon.  Not that much to report.

About the only noteworthy thing is the classroom rebellion I had to put down after our first exam.  My classes didn't score very highly, and apparently banded together insisting that it was all my fault for "speaking too fast, not leaving time for questions, and not being buddy-buddy with the students".  The first two charges were bullshit, and I told my supervisor so.  The third one is ridiculously true--I am no one's buddy, especially in situations in which I am the responsible adult.  Moreover, that has nothing to do with exam scores.

In the end, the students with grievances changed classes.  Good riddance.  I'm pretty sure this is what happens when you establish a class presidency like I griped about at an earlier date.  Everyone plots against everyone else; I know so, because literally every other teacher has had to deal with the same thing this term.  The students now have a sense of solidarity; the new management is using it to keep us in check.

I swear, though, this used to be a good place to work!  It's been like my favorite job ever--I wish all this piddly shit would go away.  I find it ironic in the extreme that I made it through two years of extreme illness, bad temper, and physical inability to work without receiving a single complaint.  Now that I'm healthy...well...

In other news, I've nearly finished the first book in my Khmer lessons (there are 5 total).  That means I'm almost not a beginner anymore!  Isn't that wonderful?  After 2 years of ignorance, I'm finally almost not a beginner anymore!  I'm really glad I'm taking lessons with a human being (rather than a CD or podcast), because language is pretty easy to learn when you don't have to memorize and hear only limited dialogue.  It's also nice to be able to interact rather than being force-fed grammatical rules.

An hour a day isn't much, but at least I can now navigate the city in Khmer, and can kind of understand some of the things people say to me.  Sometimes.

Cambodian Cross-Stitch

One of the more typical feminine things about me (there aren't many) is that I like to do cross-stitch.  It melts my hours and sorrows away.  I started at the age of 9, and continue twenty years later.  I hardly ever finish the things I start, but...that's another story.

When I was very ill, I had my mother send me some of my old cross stitches from home, but it appears I asked too soon.  Ladies here love cross-stitch!  I was walking through market today and saw a good number of them threading needles through large canvases.  I thought, Wow.  I should buy one.  So I did.

I chose this one:

Look at that...the threads are already sorted and numbered, lines drawn every ten squares.  It doesn't get any more user-friendly than that (other than the fact that I can't actually read what it says.  It's all in Chinese.  Luckily, I know what I am doing).  It's charming, simple, and completely cultural.  The only thing is that it's 11-count (meaning, way HUGEr than I like to work)...but for $12.50, I'm not going to complain too much.

REALLY GOOD DAY!!!

Today classes are back in session.  I was lucky enough to acquire the following schedule:

I signed up for two classes, both of which I managed to receive.  This is augmented by the fact that this is my favorite division to teach.  Many who signed up for multiple classes received fewer than I ... I am happy today.

=)

I've also signed up for lessons at the Khmer School of Language so that I can finally learn the language I've been too sick to apply my brain to for the the last 18 months.  I'll be going there till the 25th, when I hope to study more formally at the Royal University of Phnom Penh...because I miss being a student.

Sure, it'll cost me everything I saved up throughout my miserable 18 month march through hell...sure, I'm working so little that I'm unable to replenish what I spend...but you know what?  I AM HAPPY TODAY.

=)

Obligatory post for the month of August.

I know I hardly write in this bastard anymore.  I've considered shutting it down.  Truth is, I'm 99.99% recovered from my 20-month thyroid disease and...well, I just don't have the patience to sit still and write about mundanities anymore.  Actually, it's all I can do to get out of my head and take care of life.

Looking back over the blog, I feel a bit disappointed by my lack of Adventures or Bad Choices.  When I started, I assumed I'd be better in a couple of months and then I could start writing about the wacky stuff with more gusto.  Instead, I've just become lazy and accustomed to sitting around doing nothing.  Plus, I'm broke, and since I'm awarding myself with an unearned vacation, there's not a lot of income I can spend doing wacky stuff.

But maybe I'll keep the blog up a little longer.  I've learned a lot of things about myself over the last 20 months--about my own mortality for one thing.

I've learned that I'm really resilient and actually far less able to acknowledge the dark side of life than I would have originally guessed.  I'm a very grim, dark, and negative sort of person (really), so I just assumed something like being sick and alone in a foreign country would have crushed my soul...instead, I hardly remember it.

Another thing I have learned about myself is that I know how to read a crowd.  Really, really well.  After just walking into the room, I generally know what the class is going to be like for the rest of the term.  Yes, I can really feel it when people are collectively lazy, combative, compliant, or happy.  Pretty useful as far as I'm concerned, especially since I'm also learning that I can mould collective behavior into something else.

As much as I hate colonialism, it really did set up infrastructure that relates the country to the rest of the world.  That's why I can buy Betty Crocker in backasswards little Phnom Penh, but couldn't find anything remotely resembling this anywhere in big bad China.  Even the Khmer Rouge couldn't destroy Cambodia's orientation towards the rest of the world.

Also that bananas, ratatouille, and liver and onions all taste good.  And wild rats, mice, and cockroaches aren't too scary after all.

You really do learn something new every day!

"Invigilating"

Here's yet another example of ways our school is "improving" itself.  

For the last 18 months, I've given my students 2 or 3 exams per term.  I arrange the desks so that it's difficult for them to cheat, and I keep a strict watchful eye on them.  I've failed students before for checking answers on cell phones.  I've always administered my own exams and graded them as fairly as possible.

A day before our most recent exam, we were informed that it was pushed back a week.  All exams had to be turned in so that they could be destroyed and the team leaders (who create the exams) were forced to create new ones over night.  (They were paid for it, just fyi.)  So, thousands upon thousands of leaves of paper were sent back and destroyed, and the students were kept in a state of high nerves for a week.

Then we were informed that we were no longer allowed to watch our own students; instead we would "invigilate" another teacher's class.  It might sound simple when I write it, but doing this actually involves a level of paperwork and protocols too complex for me to easily explain here.

We weren't allowed to give the exams back to the regular teacher directly, but instead we had to give them to the front desk so that three separate administrators could count how many exams we had turned in.  We had already been instructed to count the exams ourselves and write the total on the front of the envelope.  During exams, the office staff was required to check in on us every 5 minutes or so.

All of this was apparently because a new administrator is so afraid of someone cheating that he destroyed all the old exams and instituted all these new rules.

Truly, I do not understand how the school can afford to waste all that paper but can't afford to give us easy access to basic supplies like ink, markers, and pay raises.  I am furthermore insulted by the implication that I do not know how to do my own job--it's an awfully disdainful attitude not to trust a teacher to watch his or her own classroom adequately.  My students are treated equitably and do not cheat.  End of story.

I actually forgot the exams for a week, since the office couldn't immediately give them back to me last Friday.  I just went home and...well, out of sight, out of mind.

As my colleagues have been quick to point out, this is Khmer Rouge thinking--excessive bureaucracy, students watching teachers, admin watching teachers, and teachers watching teachers.  It's a tactic used to divide and subdue, and I'm not certain why it's necessary in our case.  The right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing; extreme waste and senselessness are thought to improve society.

Everyone in charge of the school came of age during the Khmer Rouge, so they really know what they're doing in this case.

I'll tell you what.  I'm going to do a lot of reading about the Pol Pot era.  I've already got his biography; I'll just read every good piece of bootleg literature that comes my way.  After I have mastered the Khmer language, I will begin synthesizing the information and publishing my own works on the Khmer Rouge era.  I will become the pre-eminent scholar on this topic, because I have insights that others in the field do not--I know first hand how it feels, having working under a Khmer Rouge-styled system for years.  I am coming to understand the mentality in the ways that most Westerners do not.

GOLD STAR FOR ME.

Taking Leave

Don't worry, I'm not dead.

Actually, it's the opposite.  I've been feeling so good over the last month that I haven't felt the need or desire to write--I'd completely forgotten how much energy I used to have and how happy I generally felt before thyroid disease.  LOL.

Anyway, I've got another tale of bureaucratic ridiculousness coming up, and there probably will be yet another before the term is out.  So brace yourself for that--it's not negativity, it's my way of making fun.

It's actually reached the point that I am taking a semi-Sabbatical.  Not the bureaucratic ridiculousness...just teaching six hours a day in general.  I'm so burnt out with teaching the same old classes day in and day out.  I'm also sick of traipsing across town through knee deep rainwater after a downpour (it's rainy season till November).  This week, I got an infection in an open wound on my foot from the dirty water--NO MORE.

So I've signed up for only two classes next term, in the morning, just as a way of getting myself out of bed and paying for room and board.  I'm going to do all the fun stuff I always wanted, but was too sick to do:

• Take a Khmer course at the Royal University!
• Join a gym!
• Learn to drive a motorbike!
• Paint pictures of stuff!
• Volunteer at an orphanage!
• Discover all the good restaurants in town!
• Look for new employment!
• Properly plan courses!
• Try to eat a better diet!
• Host couch surfers!
• Travel around the country!
• Not worry about making my 3:30 class on time if I fall asleep!
• ET CETERA!!!

It'll be awesome, as long as I don't get sick again (I am mindful of the fact that last time I made plans, I contracted my thryoid infection).

Another Work-Related Diatribe

I'd sort of promised myself after my last work-related entry that I was going to stop complaining about work.  I know it's starting to get annoying (and I also know I'm expected to write about rainbows and pony-farms and bubbling syrupy goodness about the awesomeness that is Cambodia.  Not diatribes).  I understand that.  I really do.  I know you're tired of hearing about it, but in light of this week's events, I feel it is necessary to give an accurate picture of the realities of teaching English in Cambodia.

In most normal institutions world-wide, it is considered normal to give class evaluations at the end of the term--not smack in the middle of it.   I was unpleasantly surprised this Wednesday, then, when I was unceremoniously booted out of each of my classes (in the middle of a lesson!) for mid-term evaluation purposes.  All the more so considering that in my particular institution, it was only at the end of last term that evaluations were given at all.

I was furthermore unnerved on Thursday when a member of admin decided I needed a "surprise inspection".  Unnerved, and even insulted.  She sat in on my class for 40 minutes to take notes on my every movement.

Now, I don't want to be the whiner here, but I have to say I don't think much of these evaluations.  I have had the misfortune of seeing the questions on it, and they are about basic matters of procedure (Does your instructor dress properly?  Does your instructor come on time?  Does your instructor assign homework?).  Nowhere is it asked if the course content is OK, or how the instructor could improve the teaching of the course.  In other words, the evaluations are not that helpful.

Moreover, the feedback can be downright insulting.  I received very bad marks on my last evaluation, to be honest.  Now I personally can't take this stuff seriously at all (I literally threw my evaluation in the trash, so I don't even remember what it said) but some people really took theirs hard.  One instructor was in a rage because one hater had circled all 1s (on a scale of 1-5).  Another got even worse marks than me and was almost in tears and considered quitting his job entirely.

Virtually everyone was dissatisfied.

Why we're now being evaluated and inspected (and insulted) twice per term, I don't know; but I can tell you that it's not doing anything good for morale.  In my case, you will be unsurprised to hear, it's only succeeding in building an adversarial relationship between me and the administration and, worse, between me and my students.  It's hard NOT to think of people as adverseries when they exist solely to judge you and/or control your efforts.

I said as much to a co-teacher while I waited outside during an evaluation.  She is quite involved in school politics and informed me that the president has basically gone off the deep end and won't listen to reason.

AND WAIT TILL I TELL YOU ABOUT EXAMS.

We have a famous writing program, which is probably our institution's major appeal to potential students.  We teach them how to write academic English.  Exams are consequently geared towards grading their ability to construct intelligible sentences, use grammar accurately, and write acceptable paragraphs.

This does make it a pain in the ass to grade exams, that's true.  But grading them by hand is preferable to the totally unjustified method that will soon be in place:  We're now being ordered to give multiple-choice exams.  That's right, students can sit next to each other and fill in a bubble sheet to prove they know how to "write English".  I can stand there trying to prevent five rows of eyes from copying off their neighbors' bubble sheets.   Yes, they can prove to me their ability to use English grammar and write coherently with a multiple choice exam.  That's right.

The exams will be graded by the scan-tron that the president (who has never taught a class in his life) just invested in to make us "more competitive".  We can watch the $10 000 machine grade our exams while sipping water from the $3 000 purifier, all the while searching for ink for our markers and complaining about our paychecks that haven't risen since 1994.

You heard me.

Good People Die in May

Six years ago during this month, I attended the funeral of my grandmother in Phoenix.  On my birthday, depressingly enough.  She had died a week earlier.

I am sorry to report that this week my family is attending the funeral of my other grandmother...she passed away a week after my birthday.

May is a good month to be born, and also to die.  Rest in Peace my favoritest grandparent ever!



*Due to family tensions, and being in Cambodia, I will not be attending the funeral.

About that...

Remember last week's rant about my school's new system of electing students?  Today, our duly elected Class Presidents and Vice Presidents are supposed to attend a meeting with the founder and president of the school.  He is an ex-ministry official.  Good thing none of us ever instituted the "class officers" policy.  (Mind you, we couldn't have even if we wanted to--how do you explain the democratic process to entry-level English learners who've never had a fair election in their lives?)

I have not been informed of the meeting's agenda, nor do I care to find out.  This whole thing is a thorn in my side.

Looks like I was right, though, about it being an attempt at keeping an eye on the teachers.  This is just so sad I don't even know why I blog about it.

The Panic Button

So, I've officially been unwell for 18 months...compounding this painful reality is the fact that today, the 15th of May, I officially enter my 30th year of existence.

In addition to the fact that women are officially branded "old" at the end of this year--and I am a woman--I have also become painfully aware in recent months of how little a foundation I really have in life.  I have no money; I've built no career.  My family is fraying away on the opposite side of the planet.  I feel like I screwed something up somewhere along the way, but I'm too distraught by the passage of time to know what it is.

I wish I had another 10 years to figure out what I wanna be when I grow up.  There are about ten years' worth of stuff I still wanna do (teach English on the commune, learn Chinese and Khmer and Arabic, spend a summer at World Fellowship Center, stop Climate Change, go on safari, and establish global dominion), and I still feel like I'm about 20.  Don't you think it's fair that I should get an extra ten years of "stasis" after which I can finally turn 30?  The flow of time is starting to freak me out.  Big time.

REALITY, WHY WON'T YOU BEND TO MY WILL???

(To the time machine!)

WTF?

It seems as though I will never stop complaining about my job, I know, but I'm fairly incensed today.  Read it and weep.  I certainly did:

 

I had to censor some of it out; does it seem like an attempt to keep an eye on the teachers to you as much as it does to me?  Or more accurately, an ill-conceived waste of time.  At least, it would...if any of us could actually tell what the hell we're supposed to do. 

I teach 6 hours every day, and correct the sentences of 90 students on at least two days of the week.  That is completely above and beyond the call of duty; most teachers won't even do that.  Some even deride me for my Eager Beaver attitude.  And here I'm being told how to administer my class while being issued directives to grade 90 MORE papers twice a week, all while working on 1994 wages. 

This is NOT what will make us competitive with ACE.