All posts by Sharon

On the Road

Ridin’ in the “Rick”

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I know them as tuk-tuks, but the locals here in Mumbai refer to these 3-wheeled taxis as “rickshaws” or just “ricks.”

Ricks can take you anywhere in a fraction of the time it would take in a cab because the drivers seem to have no fear of death. They seek out slivers of space between vehicles on the road and then wedge themselves in. You must keep all limbs in the rick at all times or risk losing them.

When we walked to a coffee shop during a break at the PYP workshop, these guys were cleaning up their ricks and getting ready for the day.
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After the workshop on Saturday, two other teachers and I hailed a rick for a ride in to the Mumbai suburb of Bandra. Imagine the twirling teacup ride at Disneyworld, and then put your pedal to the metal. I couldn’t believe we didn’t see any rick wrecks.
Our death-defying driver.
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This was the street outside our hotel.
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I bravely reached out of the rick to take this shot.
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After visiting a handicraft market (which I’ll describe in a separate post), we hopped in another rick. I didn’t record video during the most hectic part of the ride; I was focusing on breathing. Once the traffic thinned a bit, I thought to pull out my camera.

On the Road

2 Things I Love: Weddings and Food

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After beachcombing, I returned to the hotel to brush my teeth and swipe on another layer of deodorant before heading out to dinner. Mid-brushing, I heard some serious drumming outside the hotel. I danced around the room a bit and then went down to the lobby to meet Helene and Je. While I waited, another workshop attendee, Melinda, showed up. She and her retired husband live in Aleppo, Syria. I invited them to join us for dinner.

When we walked outside, the drumming was still going gangbusters. Melinda said it was a wedding procession. They had just picked up the bride and were on their way to the wedding. Unable to resist, I led the gang on a quick detour in the direction of the drums.

We came upon an ornate silver chariot pulled by two gold-bedecked horses. The bride, groom and two other young women sat in the carriage. Crowds of revelers proceeded them, drumming and cheering. Fantastic! (I’m actually only awake at this moment because the wedding festivities are continuing in to the night. Fireworks. Music. Lots of car horns. It was fun while it lasted, people. Time to get on with the honeymoon.)
The spotlights made it hard to get a good photo.
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Here’s a quick video. Stupid spotlight.

After we ogled the wedding procession, we made our own procession to find a restaurant recommended by several locals. Walking at night on dark streets in Mumbai is dangerous business. Rickshaws and cars whip around the dogs, pedestrians and each other; chunks of concrete dot the path; gaping holes appear out of nowhere; who knows what you might step in? We finally got to Mahesh Lunch Home and ordered way too much food. Everything was delicious, and Melinda gave our doggy bag to a beggar on the way back to the hotel. (That’s Al and Melinda, who live in Syria, on the left. On the right, Je, a teacher in the Philippines; Helene, a French teacher at my school; and me.)
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After dinner, the waiters brought this selection of breath-freshening treats, including little “jimmies” that tasted like Good-N-Plenty candy. Some of you may be impressed at how I was able to make my usual goofy expression without forehead wrinkles. Thanks God for the iPhoto editing tool!
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On the Road

Beach Blanket Bingo and Other Sights at the Mumbai Seaside

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When I woke up Friday morning, I felt stiff and sluggish from Thursday’s long flight and late arrival. I just wanted to get through the workshop and come back to the hotel for a rest. Typical extrovert, though, I soon felt energized from my interactions with other workshop attendees. By the end of the day, I was ready to take on Mumbai. Unfortunately, a politician is in town for a big speech, and the locals suggested sticking close to the hotel or risking hours in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Another teacher staying at our hotel mentioned a walk on the beach. Beach? My colleague, Helene (French teacher at VIS), and I arrived at midnight and then boarded a bus to the workshop first thing in the morning. I had no idea the Juhu Beach was right around the corner from our hotel! Yippee!

As soon as the workshop ended, Helene, Je (a teacher in the Philippines) and I took a stroll on the beach. This was like no beach I’ve seen before. In lieu of funnel cakes and sno-cones, vendors hawked grilled corn, chana masala, chopped dried fruit in little newspaper packets, and many other snacks I couldn’t identify. In the absence of an arcade, gamesters could aim BB guns at a balloon display. In the place of rollercoasters and nausea-inducing spinny rides, children (and adults) climbed aboard the manually operated 4-car Ferris wheel and a carousel of miniature cars. Ladies offered to henna our hands. Men tried to sell us maps of India, and then said, “You’re breaking my heart!” when we declined. And throngs of people cruised the beach, some with shoes in hand as they splashed in the surf.

The brilliantly colored and bedazzled saris wafted in the breeze, sometimes dragging in the water if the young lady was too enamored with the boy on her arm to notice her waterlogged hem, and sometimes caked with sand if the woman was plopped on the ground digging holes and burying her children’s squiggly toes. One big group of ladies sat in plastic chairs and on mats, apparently playing a Bingo-like game. The leader shook a plastic bag full of tiles, and then she would pull one out and announce something. Youngsters rolled around the sand nearby.

As the sun set, I watched a little fishing boat pull in to shore. The water was full of trash, and the salty sting of ocean breezes was replaced by the slight scent of sewage. But no matter. The beach, any beach, nourishes my spirit.

Strolling on the beach.
More Strolling

Beach Crowds

Ladies playing some kind of game at Juhu Beach.
Ladies Playing a Game

Snacks and Rides at Juhu Beach.
Chana Masala

Grilled Corn

Yummy Looking Fruit

Beach Rides

Fishermen row ashore.
Fishermen

On the Road, Teaching

PYP-ing

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Another weekend, another workshop.

This time, I’m in Mumbai, India, for training in the Primary Years Program, which is the elementary school component of the International Baccalaureate. So far, it’s mostly stuff I had already learned when a trainer visited our school earlier this year, but I think tomorrow’s sessions will get a little more in-depth.

I met teachers who are working in India, Syria, the Philippines, Hong Kong, China, Sri Lanka and Poland (where he said it’s presently -20°C!), and I really enjoyed hearing about their experiences. I even saw a familiar face: Gavin – a Kiwi we met on vacation in Turkey when we were gearing up for the 2005 job fair. Turns out he was working at Shanghai American School, and he encouraged us to pursue jobs there. Of course, the rest is history. He and his wife work in Hong Kong now. I know I say it all the time, but I just love when paths cross unexpectedly in this international teaching world.

Daily Life, Laos

Shakespeare for Dummies

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There’s not a lot going on in this sleepy hamlet of Vientiane, so when I get word of anything remotely interesting coming to town, I jump on it. Last night, a little crowd gathered in a small conference room at the Novotel to see Daniel Foley, who has performed his show “Shakespeare for Dummies” in more than 60 countries as part of his Performance Exchange project.

Foley shuffled on to the makeshift stage, held up a drink and told the audience, “We’ll get started in just a minute …” He pulled off his slacks to reveal a pair of jodhpurs and then wiggled in to a fitted velvet jacket with lace trim, and the transformation was complete.

The first half of Foley’s presentation featured random facts about life in Shakespeare’s time, interspersed with theatrical interpretations of historical events and bits from the Bard’s plays. He asked for volunteers and must have heard my psychic message: “Pick me! Pick me!” I was brought on stage to be Juliet. Mike, the husband of our school nurse, was singled out to be Romeo. Foley told me to kneel on a satin-slipcovered chair (aka the balcony), look longingly to the back of the room, and recite those famous lines: “Romeo! Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo?” So I did. Then he asked me to add a bit more drama, so I hammed it up with some drawn-out r-rolling and gesticulations. Then he asked, “Where did this play take place?” and the audience answered, “Verona!”

“Well, Romeo and Juliet must have had Italian accents then!” he exclaimed.

So I said my lines again: “Rrrromeo! Rrrromeo! Where-a-fore art-a thou, Rrrromeo?!” Mike then parroted Foley’s recitation of the “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” speech in a cheesy Italian accent and over-the-top gestures. We got a lot of laughs.

Mike must have made a good impression because it turned out to be The Mike Show for the rest of the evening. He took the stage again and again to play a Roman soldier, act out a speech from Othello, demonstrate stage combat, and more.

We all filed out of the conference room for a fancy buffet dinner, followed by a Shakespeare quiz, which Foley warned we “couldn’t win!” He tossed out lines, and the audience tried to guess the play. I knew ONE quote from Macbeth and a few from various comedies. Luckily there were several Shakespeare scholars in the room eager to show off their knowledge. During the Q&A, I did a few mental eyerolls when people asked pretentious questions framed in such a way to spotlight their obvious superior intelligence.

Mike and I asked Foley for a photo after the show, and I had to snicker when the deputy ambassador from Burma hopped up on the stage to pose with us.
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On the Road, Teaching

Gettin’ Tech-y with my BFFs

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When I was in high school, our technology lessons involved writing binary code to create an animation of a launching rocket. Not very practical stuff. Today’s youth are digital natives who could probably launch a real rocket if they had the tools. They surf, tweet, post, click, e-mail, IM, SMS, download, upload, google, install, search, blog, vlog, glog, bookmark, comment, moderate, network, tag, RSS, link, and create. And then they go to school.

In the classroom, teachers often face systemic and psychological barriers to using technology. Maybe the internet connection is weak. Maybe the school or country has banned useful web-based applications. Maybe the computers are old and slow. Maybe there ARE no computers. And maybe we just feel intimidated. After all, we are the digital immigrants in this scenario.

In Shanghai, I was fortunate to work with many tech-savvy teachers. I saw first-hand how seamless integration of technology in the classroom translated to motivated, enthusiastic, inquisitive students. Once you’ve seen the power of 21st-century education, you just can’t go back to the ol’ chalk-and-talk approach.

My excitement was piqued again this weekend at Tech Train 2010, an EARCOS weekend workshop at the International School of Bangkok. We focused on blogs, wikis, digital storytelling, Creative Commons, global collaboration, and personal learning networks. The two-day workshop culminated with a “speed geeking” session, where we showcased our final projects. My head is buzzing with ideas as I head back to Vientiane. My biggest challenge will be NOT to try everything at once.

As if all that weren’t fantastic enough, one of the workshop leaders was Tara Ethridge, an inspirational techmeister librarian and former Shanghai American School-Pudong colleague, AND three of my favorite people were among the attendees: Amy and Kathy, who still work at SAS, and Colleen, another former Pudonger who is now elementary librarian at Saigon South International School. Amy, Col and I participated in the “next steps cohort” to build our tech repertoire, and Kath bravely attended the “beginners cohort,” where she launched a blog. Way more exciting than launching a 2-D rocket!

Here, Col, Amy and I collaborate on a digital storytelling project.
Digital storytelling

Tara’s husband, Dale, and daughter, Sojo, were hanging out at school. Sojo told us all about her upcoming show, which she is creating, producing and starring in. She sang “Good-bye, Friends” and demonstrated her robot moves.
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Arriving at ISB for our second day aboard the Tech Train.
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We had such a great time catching up! Saturday night, Tara met us at our hotel to go out to dinner, but we never ventured past the hotel’s 27th-floor club lounge, where we took advantage of free appetizers and cocktails for almost three hours. We were even treated to a colorful display of fireworks, reminiscent of our days in China.
The gang’s all here: Tara, Kathy, me, Colleen, and Amy.
at the lounge

Daily Life, Laos

Friends in Town!

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I’m sipping red wine and eating Turkish figs and chocolate-covered lokum, thanks to Tracey Z, who breezed in to town Saturday night with another friend, Andrea (and bags of special treats). They both teach at Koç School in Istanbul, where Tony and I got our first taste of international teaching. We worked and played with TZ back in 2004-5, so it was great to see her again! It doesn’t take long to show visitors around our little city of Vientiane. A mani-pedi here, a massage there, some Beer Lao here, spicy papaya salad there … and so it went until the girls boarded a bus for Vang Vieng on Tuesday afternon.

Tracey found some hot boxers at Home Ideal, which she tried on in the middle of the store to my amusement and the store clerk’s dismay.
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TZ and Andrea at That Dam, the 14th-century “black stupa” which legends say was once coated in a layer of gold and/or houses a dormant seven-headed dragon.
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Buying sweet potatoes from a street vendor (unfortunately, they turned out to be taro … still sweet, but not the same).
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TZ posing in front of a stage at the Morning Market, where two singers were lip syncing while bubble machines and dry ice set the mood.
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The ladies in a tuk tuk. I miss you already!
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Daily Life, Laos

False Summits

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There’s a name for everything. Yesterday I learned about “false summits.” Those are the tops of excruciatingly steep hills – where you creep up on your bike in the lowest gear, sucking deep desperate gulps of air, pain searing through your hamstrings, your heart audibly booming in your chest, telling yourself, “I’m almost there, gasp, I can do it, gasp, I can rest on the downhill, gasp…” – only to find that you’re not really at the top. A little bend in the road and – surprise! – the incline continues.

Team Dai’s training ride this week took us to the Nam Ngum Reservoir. We met at 6:30 a.m. at the Patuxai Monument in town, as always, and loaded our bikes on top of a songtaew, which is an oversized tuk-tuk with a truck engine. I wanted to take a photo, but I had forgotten to take my iPhone out of the little bag velcroed to my bike seat, and I didn’t think about it till my bike was securely roped on the roof of the songtaew. Here’s a Google image of a songtaew (from home.arcor.de); just imagine a cloudy day with 12 bikes strapped on top of the songtaew and one inside with the passengers.
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We drove for about an hour to Dansavanh. There, we unloaded the bikes and cycled to the base of the dreaded hills. Our goal on this day was to get a feel for tackling the mountains – both the challenge of climbing up and the control necessary for going down on less-than-smooth, rain-slicked, sandy roads. (We’re training for a 3-day, 400-kilometer ride north through the mountains to Phonsavan in March. See my previous Team Dai posts for details.)

Ready to go!
Ready to Go

For six kilometers (almost four miles), we pedaled up – sometimes on such steep angles that my front tire lifted off the ground – and raced down. My triceps ached from anxiously gripping the brakes so tightly. Some riders clocked their descents at nearly 70 kmh (43 mph)! I’m sure I didn’t come close.

The ride took us to a pathetic casino at the edge of the reservoir. Decorated in an Egyptian theme, it featured hieroglyphics, sphinxes and other cheesy ornamentation. We popped in to the shabby lobby for a toilet break and then met outside for a short rest.

Here we are outside the casino. The Lao worker who took this photo struggled with my iPhone and took about 30 blurry images. This is the best, even though the whole team isn’t pictured. That’s me, third from the right.
At the Casino

Here, the team recharges with snacks and drinks.
Break Time

This was the view before we took off again.
Nice View

And then we doubled back on those same agonizing hills. When we regrouped, we all decided to ride back to Vientiane instead of taking the songtaew. After about an hour, we stopped at a roadside “restaurant” and ate some noodle soup, which gave us a much-needed energy boost. At 3 p.m., I pulled up to the gate of my house. Total distance today: about 80 kilometers (50 miles), although I think the hills should count triple.

Daily Life, Laos

Another Glorious Training Ride

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I chalked up another 50+ kilometers on my bike this morning with Team Dai. We rode out of the city center and then turned on to the smoothest paved road I’ve seen in Laos. It was built for the Southeast Asian Games (which took place in Vientiane in December) and led to one of the stadiums. Now that the games are over, big concrete blocks prevent cars from accessing the road, and work is under way to extend the road all the way to the Friendship Bridge that links Laos and Thailand across the Mekong River.

We wriggled our bikes through the barrier and enjoyed a comfy, flat, scenic, traffic-free ride for a few kilometers. Once we passed the turn-off to the stadium, though, the road turned to dirt. Still, it was relatively smooth dirt. Soon we encountered the road workers and their heavy equipment, which kicked up lots of dust, but the riding was easy and the views were spectacular. In this photo, I’m posing in front of an expansive rice paddy where a farmer was “herding” hundreds of ducks.
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Eventually, the dirt road intersected with the main artery leading past the Friendship Bridge and back into town. Although one rider argued for staying on asphalt, she was outvoted by others who wanted to pedal along the canal. I had never done the canal ride, so I just kept my mouth shut. I quickly realized why she had lobbied for the paved road. The canals were lined with farms, trees and friendly locals, but the path was a series of packed-earth craters. At one point, I shouted out, “Are we riding on the moon?”

These rides have brought so much bliss to my weekends.
Exhaustion, a sore bum, ears full of dirt, and bugs in my teeth, as well, … but mostly bliss!
Why am I doing it? See my other posts about Team Dai.