classic chinglish

Now, to qualify, I'm absolutely not making fun of this kid. He's a good kid, and he simply missed the day we talked about the assignment, which was tough to begin with (it was pretty ambiguous and didn't allow for much exploratory writing. Well, as much as they can do). However, it still made me laugh. This is exactly as I received it, the assignment about bragging.

Someone they all way say they are so good, they said their did that we never or we can't can do that thing, but they said they did it that us say they are so good can do that thing, but they didn't do it. They said they has new thing that we don't have that thing. They has do what, but they didn't do it.

classy

As pointed out by the girl today, there is no redemption of class when the phrase "You have chocolate on your undershirt," is uttered. Or, really, anything on your undershirt.

just another typhoon

Just because I've had a lot of inquiries recently, the recent typhoon here (this past weekend) didn't affect me at all. Well, the winds woke me up at five in the morning, and there was some rain, but that was about it. Frankly, if you heard about it in North America, it was for one of two reasons (in my opinion):

a) Hurricane Katrina and Rita have made the western media hyper-sensitive to anything resembling a hurricane, or possibly

b) An earthquake (5.something) hit during the typhoon. Both were stronger in the north (I didn't even feel the earthquake, but then again, I never do).

Realistically, this is our third typhoon this season, and the other two were much more of a shitkicking. The first one of the season was the worst in five years, but no one mentioned that they had heard it. I suppose

c) The typhoon's name was Longwang

could be another explanation.

Anyway, I'm not dead.

keening in the streets

Yesterday, I was a bit startled when music erupted in the form of live trumpets and guitars and drums from down the street. It was 7:30 AM.

Funerals, or at least rememberance ceremonies, in this land of Buddhism and Daoism, are generally held in the street. People will rent a tent and the family will sit in it for the day, surrounded by candles and flowers. The centrepiece of the entire thing is a photograph of the deceased. These are not the same to-dos that weddings are - generally they're smaller tents, and no banquet. Also, quieter.

However, not this one. At precisely 8 o'clock, a woman began giving a eulogy and crying into a microphone turned to full blast, which could be heard (or at least the echoes) a full five blocks in every direction. It lasted for forty minutes, and was punctuated at various times with more music.

It's a good thing I wasn't trying to sleep. Friends living around here who were, didn't. Luckily, this forced sharing of sorrow isn't a regular thing, but the funeral thing is. Almost every day, you see a tent with a picture inside on the street. Adds a bit of flair to the country, really.

bordering on obsessive

C has a four-year-old student who has been taking English for almost a year and a half, every morning, and whose vocabulary seems to be centered around one word.

Dinosaur.

"How do you feel today, Hank?"
"Sad."
"Why?"
"Dinosaur eat me and poop me out!"

"Hank, what are you going to be for Halloween?"
"Dinosaur!"

"OK class, what begins with Y? Yes, Hank?"
"Dinosaur!"*

The funny thing is, they haven't even done D yet.

*Actual questions and answers from class.