it seems logical, but in practice...

Do you know what the cure is for staying out late and having to wake up early is?

Cause it isn't staying out late and waking up early. Trust me on this one. I'm taking the hit for you here.

deluge

What a week. A deluge for sure.

I sit with wind howling and rain pounding down in the first typhoon to hit Taiwan in December in meteorological history. Which was cool, right up to the point that I had to go outside this morning. As far as I'm aware, it's been raining since before I went to bed last night (too late, as usual), changing from a light sprinkle to a pouring, get-my-pants-all-wet-despite-my-stylish-full-body-rain-slicker mess.

I was also attacked in my class. Yes, I have the WORST kid in the school, no exaggeration intended, unfortunately. Today, I was stabbed, cut, hit, and kicked, all by one attitudinous eight-year-old. It would be a crime to hoist him on any of my coworkers - if anyone understands him, it's me - but he's provided me with nothing but antagonism this week. If you know me, you know my patience. This child has raised my ire more than I can remember IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, if that gives you an indication.

And with Christmas* approaching (holy crunchy Christ on a stick is Christmas a busy time for school-related activities!), things such as decorating, whipping kids into Christmas-caroling-shape***, and trying to find that one light that is stopping the chain. My kids will just have to go without blue lights on the tree this year. Devastating, I know.

Top that off with the usual rehearsals and add to it goings-away and auditions for a new play (it's that Arcadia I mentioned! Fractals and gardens and Byron, oh my!), and you can obviously see why I'm the happiest I've been in a long, long time. Now if there were only another four hours in the day for sleeping, I'd be set.

Oh yeah, and Christmas planning. I'm going to Indonesia for Christmas. Did I mention that? Cause I am. Any requests? Child-labour-intensive gifts have an extra acquisition and smuggling charge, just so you know.

*Christmas in Chinese is sheng dan jie, which literally translates into Birth/Born Egg Festival. I love the translations. Jesus is an egg!** Gives a whole new implication to Deviled Eggs.

**Which brings to mind a conversation today. About ham. And how we can eat it whenever we want. Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving... "Teacher, Easter? You don't eat ham at Easter." "Yes, we can. We can eat ham whenever we want to. Jesus died so that we can eat ham! Understand?" "Um, OK, Teacher." "That's right."

***I love Christmas carols. I get paid more money than should be legal to sing Christmas carols with the kids. Paid to sing Christmas carols! And the great part is, they're traditional. No jazzing it up, no rocking it****, nothing of the sort. Just me and a CD player with some carols and the kids. Really, I don't even care if they like them or not. They're singing 'em.

****Thank God. That's one thing I don't miss at all - terrible, over-played, out-of-the-spotlight rock stars doing a Christmas song and having it played 100 JILLION times everywhere you go. No malls, no official Christmas Day (i.e. no Christmas holiday), no tunes!

TYPHOON DAY!

Yes, on my last day of being able to say I've been on three continents in one year, I have my first official typhoon day. On one hand, I wish that we could've had a day of work cancelled, but on the other hand, money is nice for travel.

I awoke to 80 km/h winds (or so, I'm always bad at approximating these things. They were fast) screaming outside my window. Winds strong enough to blow over five-foot-tall spirit money ovens and three hundred pound scooters, anyway. Made it to yoga anyway, though. Then I was told that this was just the edge of it. I think the eye is here right now - the sky is clearer than it has been in two months, the air is clean, the sun is bright...

I'm off to take devastation pictures. Well, small amounts of urban devastation, but devastation nonetheless.

*UPDATE: Just a tropical storm? Damn. Well, it still gets a storm warning and is the best storm I've seen here. Anything that can easily push a 165 lb. person riding a 300 lb. scooter around is worthy of respect.

distance

A year is such a short time, and yet contains so many moments.

I've been meaning to write this since (Canadian*) Thanksgiving. That weekend, I would've forgotten about the celebration, had I not been in contact with people back home. It was done a little here - Canadian friends wishing each other a happy Thanksgiving, one restaurant offering Thanksgiving fare the night of, non-Canadian friends acknowledging it - but realistically, I could've missed it and not missed it.

And it made something clear to me. Distance matters. In so very much. I'm hanging halfway between clinging to what mattered to me back home and living where I am, where some things are just so different. I don't have a Christmas tree up, and don't really intend to have one. We did last year, but to be honest, I don't feel any need to have one up. I've got one up in my room at school, where I sing Christmas carols every day with my kids. I'll wrap up presents, but I'll be alone (well, with new friends, I hope) in Indonesia on Christmas Day. I'm feeling disconnected.

Relationships are obviously affected the most. Interesting to see what happens when one is away from 'home'. People leave, come back, have relationships back home (and, sometimes away*). I have many friends here who have had significant others leave, or have left themselves - some have returned, some not. It's a double-edged sword - I guess it makes for an interesting encounter with different cultures, but if you get attached, it can make it very painful at the end. Long-distance is an option, but oceans and continents, well, they make those emotions work - they have to be strong, well-exercised, and know the way in order to make the journey. And so many times, they don't.

And it just isn't love. Many, oh so many, people lose touch with a lot of friends when they come out here. They say you find out who your true friends really are, and where people put you on their scales. Most give up, keep correspondence with a select few, and give up. I have a pretty great group of friends, and I will unhumbly admit that my effort makes a big difference. I still send postcards (60 postcards takes a lot of effort, let me tell you), large emails, personal emails, replies, birthday greetings, phone calls. It makes a difference.

But on this anniversary (whoops, late - Dec. 5th, actually), I feel further away from a lot of it. Friends are growing up, getting married, having kids, acquiring things, wandering down career paths. This time, I have no doubts in what I have done. I'm not envious - I enjoy what I've chosen. Immensely. As I've said, I've found an opportunity that has awoken an interest, a hunger, a passion, and possibly even more. I may never have the chance to schmooze with this calibre of people in this capacity again. The moments here are adding up to be more than just moments.

So. I'm here, with a great bunch of people whom I love, for another year, away from a great bunch of people whom I love. It's like a rock and a hard place, except I really like geology and architecture. And after that? Hm. I'll let you know in a year.

*American Thanksgiving is much bigger, which is funny, as there are more Canadians than Americans in this town, but they own most of the participating restaurants. I didn't care - two Thanksgiving dinners in six weeks was right up my alley, let me tell you.

**I met a girl in Australia who would cheat on her boyfriend back home, but not with someone from the same country as her. You know, to avoid the possible run-in connection.

faster than a speeding bullet

My reflexes have always been rooted firmly at an average level. I was no lightning-quick showman, but I wasn't the slowest guy around. My brain was usually pretty fast on the uptake, but those nerve receptors, well, let's just say they follow the laziness the rest of my body now suffers from/enjoys. Thoughts may have been screaming down my arm, "MOVEMOVEMOVEGOGOGOGOGO," but that damn arm just wouldn't shoot out in time to catch the ball. Or the legs get going to start the run. And so on.

In Taiwan, however, one develops what I've come to term Scooter Reflexes (I doubt it's an original term), or Death Instinct (which sounds much cooler and may be a little more original). Due to the fact that (as the best advice on the matter I've received told me) everyone is trying to kill you (or at least believing that sentiment), one must learn to react fast. When someone stops in front of you to pull a U-turn because they want to, you have to be on the situation like a fat kid on a smartie. Like a quarter of a nanosecond. Brakes, turns, getting the fuck outta Dodge - it's a real bringing-together of life-threatening situations. And that's just going for lunch on a Sunday afternoon.

I mean, when the rule of traffic is to generally only worry about what you can see in front of you (i.e. everything behind you is not your problem, it's the problem of everything behind you), that popping out of an alley without warning or LOOKING is fine, that middle of the road, unannounced U-turns are commonplace, that traffic lights are more like traffic suggestions, and that scooters built for two people can OF COURSE carry five, you gotta have a defense mechanism. And, for the most part, they work. It's when foreigners try to apply Western traffic logic to real life out here that trouble occurs (trust me on this one).

Luckily, these reflexes spill over. Sometimes useful, sometimes entertaining, always fun. Catching objects thrown to you or by you, with multiple bounces? No problem. Falling paper? Might as well be standing still. Juggling multiple items in mid-air? Like a pro. Flipping around a pen/bottle/book/child without looking? OK, you got me - I have to look for the child. Catching falling knives? OK, no, but you get the point.

The kids love it, to be honest. Bouncing a pen around on my hand (which never works when I actually try it) still gets some oohs and aahs from even the older kids. And, of course, peals of laughter when it doesn't. But that's your #1 job as a teacher - perform. Make them forget that they are in a classroom, and you are a teacher. Or at least a boring teacher.

I don't know if they'll stick around when I get home, but I honestly love the feeling that I get whenever I reach around and scoop up a falling object before it even has a chance to glimpse the freedom it was hoping to achieve.

Crushing the dreams of inanimate objects since 2003. Has a nice ring to it.

a day of firsts

Today, I did a lot with my body

First completely vertical headstand from scratch, held for four complete breaths (or so, the so being on five. I don't exactly remember.)

First time I've ever bent over and placed my palms flat on the ground for an extended period of time (with someone pushing my back down).

First time I've ever touched my nose to the ground while doing a sitting, legs-open-in-a-'V' splits (again, with help, but still...)

First time I've ever beaten my knuckles swollen on a punching back out of frustration (I am quite ready for a vacation. Six months straight with two days off in that time can start to get to you.)

Also, the first time I've seen the 'fish gut market'. There's the Jade Market, the Flower Market, now I know where the Fish Gut Market is in town. Fantastic. Just what I was looking for.

twelve adaptable days

Later on in the day (crap, I gotta start getting to bed at a decent hour), I will be directing my first play in my second Xtreme Theatre. There will also be a Comedy Sports performance, and a special adaptation of the Twelve Days of Christmas, listing everything that Taiwan gave to me (in a loving tribute poke kind of way, of course). Many of these may not make sense to a lot of readers, but for a few, they may provide a veritable riot.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, Taiwan gave to me
12 cats a-wavin',
11 crackers crackin',
10 scooters swervin',
9 blue trucks,
8 Chinese lessons,
7 Elevens,
6 bing lang girls,
5 monkey bites,
4 - We don't say four because it's unlucky/Four means you die/Shhh/San jia yi/etc.
3 Muffler burns
Liang wan chao dofu
And My House Have One Christmas Tree.

With accompanying actions.

Hm. I guess some of those necessitate at least a little explanation. Seven elevens are everywhere. A surprisingly large group of foreigners only last for less than a dozen Chinese lessons. There are just a lot of blue trucks around and they drive like MADMEN. Or WOMEN. Bing lang is Chinese for betel nut, which is this nut that people chew for a little high and spit. Turns the teeth red. Sixteen different kinds of yuck. Monkeys do bite. The word for four is very close to the word for death. Your scooter muffler often burns you. 2 is Two, uh, things of stinky tofu. And one is everyone's favourite grammar mistake - immediately recognizable here, as it is a literal translation from Chinese.

Should be fun!

stinky pinky

I've recently become a little addicted to a fun word game called Stinky Pinky, wherein you create clues whose answer is two rhyming words. The game name changes with the number of syllables: stink pink, stinky pinky, stinkity pinkity, stinkitchity pinkitchity... (I haven't thought of a five-syllable one yet). It's really fun. Try it. Some of my favourites are:

• the actual killing of a king (stinkity pinkity)
• the situation of the bride who couldn't say, "I do," at her wedding (stinky pinky)
• a hairy Middle-Eastern city (stinky pinky)
• a person who likes the taste of clergymen (stinky pinky)
• a well-spoken artistic creation composed of small pieces of glass or stone (stinkity pinkity)
• celebratory pasta (stinkity pinkity)
• a damning declaration of a cut (stinkitchity pinkitchity)

Got any of your own?

off like a prom dress

Tomorrow I leave for Indonesia, so posting will light to when-I-can.

Today, however, was a perfect day to finish. Yoga, quantum physics articles (there's three, they're great, can't wait for the fourth), carrot cake baking (and a wicked awesome one at that), acting and directing a play, singing love songs, and making people laugh a lot, giving gifts and receiving gifts. Now, honestly, ladies, who doesn't want a piece of that in a guy? I may be able to name someone. But regardless, a proper sendoff, nonetheless.

Have a Merry Christmas, everyone. See you just before the New Year!

on the fourth hour of being here, indonesia gave to me

FOUR clove cigarettes
THREE plates of satay
TWO new friends (well, one was a bit of drinker and the other was sorta hitting on me, but hey, they were nice)
and A great way to start a vacation.

It's a good thing I don't smoke, because these clove cigarettes are really yummy. Minty and sweet, like. Mmmm.

I've already gotten gypped, but made up for it by getting really lucky and finding a great place for souvenirs. Almost all done in one afternoon.

Batiks are amazing pieces of art, created not unlike a Ukrainian Easter egg. You start with a white cloth, then pencil your design in. What follows is a repeating process of waxing what you don't want coloured, dying the material in ever-darkening shades, then boiling it to remove the wax and set the colour. It produces some amazing results. The best part about where I went was that it was a school funded by the government, so prices are set (pretty fairly, from what I'm told and have observed), there isn't the pressure sell, and my money goes to training students and the propietors, not someone's pocket.

Lastly, I saw the biggest drum in the world! Now I can effectively dismiss all drums as, "Pretty big, I guess." Cross that off the list.

a christmas eve itinerary

22.00 Left Yogyakarta. Tried to sleep while driving over a bumpy road. Oh so hard, as four hours of climbing up a mountain in darkness after a long day is only actually half as fun as it sounds.

23.04 Had to stop, as there was a line of soldiers marching down the road with military vehicles singing. Well, we assumed they were soldiers. They had guns. Uniforms would be the wrong work, oh so unfornunately.

00.00 Reached the guide's house, 1500m about sea level. Temperature was about five degrees cooler than when we left already. Drank hot, heavily sweetened tea to get us going. Did I mention I was wearing sandals, shorts, and a T-shirt to climb a mountain? Also, our guide's name is Superman. "Really?" "Yes. Why?" "Why what?" "..." "Never mind. Up and away, Superman!"

00.50 Depart. The road is a good start. This shouldn't be hard.

01.12 End of road. Take 16 second exposure shot of valley. Lights are purdy. Into the brush. 'Sokay. The night is clear, no rain for now (it poured on me all afternoon, some of the hardest rain I have driven in in my life).

01.41 Second rest stop. We are above the lowest clouds. Wheee! The oldest member of our group is already getting tired. It's a four-hour climb.

02.06 Yoga and African dancing have made me fit (though not thin) to the point that nothing but yoga and African dance can really tire me. Mountain climbing is pretty easy.

02.18 Take the best picture thusfar of the trip, possibly one of the best I've ever taken. Dance around in happiness as much as you can in the dark on flaky mud.

02.37 Stop again for slow member. Nice guy, but complains too much. Start eyeing him up as sustenance. "Pass me piece of copilot." I put on my jacket that I bought just today for this purpose. The moving part is OK, it's the stopping part that makes it cold. I pray for the rest of my body that I still have Canadian blood pumping through my veins. I don't hold much hope for my toes.

02.53 Take picture of Solo. "Is that cloud over Solo a pretty cloud or a pollution clound?" "Pollution." Pollution is not pretty. Except pretty gross.

03.12 Hit rocky section. "Go slow, everyone." "Oh, I'm as sure-footed as a mountain goat!" Three guesses who was the witty one.

03.13 I slip. No baaaaing. No injury. Yet.

03.25 "OK, clouds are very much. We stop here. Wait." We are actually in a nimbus cloud - I can see the droplets of (cold) water flying by. Hey, I can test the Bernoulli force with my hand! Well, not really, but that really did occur. I did try different shapes. Wicked

03.48 I have sunk into a state of partial cryogenic freezing, wrapped in plastic (rainslicker) and hunched over. Piece of copilot would go over pretty well now. "Hey, guys, the cloud's gone!" We continue.

04.22 Climbing up real lava rock now, we see the early impressions the sun makes upon its canvas. Things are looking up. I make the "Up and away, Superman!" comment for the umpteenth time. It was old the first time. No one laughs this time, either.

04.30 "Oh, cloud moving in. We stop. Watch here."

04.37 "Oh, cloud moving out. We go now." Weather is finicky up here. That wind is fucking cold. Remind me of home a little. We are now up in the clouds, it's pretty cool. I go and look a steam vent. Man, it's like my own personal little space heater. I want to cuddle up next to it, become like one of those animals that live by the volcanic vents in the ocean. While my mind is contemplating this, my feet carry me away, afraid of having to live of moss for the next while.

04.50 The absolute top is obscured by clouds. We watch the clouds roll in over the sun as the sky is lightening. Fan-tastic. Then the mountain clears up, even though the sun doesn't. Fine. Up again. I make the crack that we can tell our friends that we spent Christmas Eve morn up in the clouds with Superman. This one gets a laugh.

05.01 Top! And we can even see the sun a little. I tell the three-legged pig joke, and keep breaking it off to remark how cool the sun is, making my audience turn around each time. Pickpocketing them would be so easy, but the list of suspects is rather small. "Hand me piece of thief."

05.19 We head down into the dead crater. I slip and cut up my legs, as per usual for a trip. I'm not dead. We continue. Don't see lava, though, just clouds. And lots of yellow sulphur.

05.43 We start down. Down is harder than up. Sure-footed as that mountain goat, I tell ya. My legs are cursing me now, swearing revenge.

06.12 I start making Godzilla noises as I step down. Everyone else just ignores them. I take that as a positive. I begin to wonder if Godzilla had to deal with pebbles in his sandals. Obviously, my choice of footwear (being the only thing I have for my feet here, it's not really a choice, I guess) is lacking today. Also, people in his teeth. Did he care?

06.33 We hit the trees. I determine that shin-level plants are the newest object of pure evil I have discovered. It's like my legs are the pretty girl at the prom, and the plants all want to dance. It's my party and I'll cry if I want to.

07.12 The clouds are much lower than when we came up, it makes it look like we are in a ghost forest. Or the land of the fairies. Or the elves' hideaway. I spend the next ten minutes debating about which it should be with myself, as no one else will.

08.23 We finally hit the first rest stop, the beginning of the road back down. "OK, time to go!" "No, I call van. We wait. Sit." "Um, ok."

08.31 Banana pancakes! (Actually crepes, but there isn't enough time to really tell, what with them being shovelled into my mouth).

There is nothing like seeing a sunrise from a mountaintop. Which is why I'm going to do it again in just over two days. No four-hour hike this time, though.

Selamat Natal, all. Or, since I'm on an island, Mele Kalikimaka. Or, in keeping with my lessons, Shengdanjie kwaile!

Merry Christmas, everyone.

i'm fine

Thanks to those leaving messages of concern. I was on the other side of the island and wasn't even aware of an earthquake and subsequent tsunamis until I checked my email. No noticable effect, I'll see as I head back to Jakarta if there's anything, but I'm not close to water at all.

Send your prayers to those who need it. It sounds like a scary time for lots of people.