hi (IGR)! you are really go singapore… but I’m never lonely!!! because you are not here I can’t hear your noise and you are not disturb me. so now Iam very happy …… hope you are having a good day~~
(Host Brother).
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If I could review Bangkok Suvarnabhumi Airport as a place to sleep, it would compare favorably with (God forbid) Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson. Actually, I believe I will review it.
SLEEPING IN AIRPORTS: Bangkok Suvarnabhumi
****/5
The first thing to note about Suvarnabhumi is that it’s brand new. The second is that it’s full of backpackers who have the same idea you do, unlike certain other airports we could mention, which are full of homeless people who accuse you of nonexistent offenses. This means that there can be fierce competition for the cushioned benches – unsurprising considering the facts that the airport is also quiet and free of ugly carpet (are you listening, Atlanta?), has restaurants and Starbucks open 24 hours, and doesn’t smell. Aside from the absence of free Internet access and a few issues with climate control, Suvarnabhumi makes a fine place to nurse a 4AM Tazo Shaken Black Lemon Tea (Iced) before eventually passing out on a chair while you wait for your budget flight.
Singapore is humid, but thanks to the kindness of Hallim’s friend from college, we have a very comfortable place to stay, one in which Hallim is passed out right now. This is probably due to the fact that our flight left at 10:15 yesterday morning. We had some time to kill in Seoul, so we met Soccer, Quagmire, and another Program friend of ours I’ll call Earthy Fellow in Itaewon, a district in which I have no desire to ever, ever set foot again – it reminded me of Bourbon Street with a dash of colonialism, except much larger. At any rate we went to some place called Foreign Restaurant, which, as one might guess, was not any good, really. But the company was excellent. We tried to go see a movie, ended up browsing in some weird supermall, and took the metro back to Incheon, which was not, I discovered too late, the same as Incheon Terminal. Incheon Terminal is actually 40 minutes away from Incheon. We had to get on a bus, and then we had to tell the bus driver to hurry, and we ran through customs, etc., and then we discovered that the boarding time had been delayed. (Note: this was my fault. I should not attempt to navigate anywhere.) So we made it to Bangkok around 1:20, got our stuff, had some SB and crashed. Our AirAsia flight left around 7:30, and we were at Hallim’s friend’s apartment by 12.
We spent the afternoon in the Arab Quarter, which was lots of fun, aside from the fact that we ended up eating Malay/Indonesian food, which was good, but now I’m fiending for some baba ghanouj. At first I was being a bit too guidebooky, dragging Hallim to this street of hipster stores, before she pointed out that while they all differ, such boutiques can be found anywhere, and the kitsch was sort of what made the area unique. So we ate some baklava and found this place that sold telephone-shaped oil lamps and bags of old photographs of Singapore “ago,” as Host Fam would say. They bear a pretty strong resemblance to the photos we have of my father’s family in Saigon, and on vacation, and in Cali. So I picked up a few of those and wrote letters on the back, and then I found a Slurpee (!!! – yes, I am aware that these are not native to Singapore, but they are both hard to find and delicious), and then we went home.
The only downers so far: Rain jacket came out of outside of Scooter’s loaned backpack, i.e. is lost forever in AirAsia’s luggage claim, was rather expensive and more importantly a gift from Miguk Oma, and iPod seems to have stopped working. I’m going to try a few things with it, but I don’t think it’s under warranty, which means purchasing a new one, eventually. I had downloaded some Dengue Fever and White Shoes & The Couples Company, which I thought would be suitable travel accompaniments, but now I am forced to sing in my head.
Filed under: Apple, actual transcripts, life on Jeju, miscommunication, okay seriously Korea, skool, students, teaching
Today: more travel poster making. Some of the taglines:
“About India”
“Strange Egypt”
“Surprise Egypt”
“[Egypt] is very mistery. How nice!!”
What can I say. Nothing that would make it any funnier, for sure.
I have a few hours’ break in between classes, so I’m at home now to change into warmer clothes/lesson plan/(nap). Fortunately, I set up Aurora on my computer, so now I have an iTunes alarm clock. My computer is so damn cool. I did need a break though. Even when my students are better, as they were today (and by “better,” I mean “not beasts”), teaching the low-level classes always sets me on edge, because I know I’ll have to deal with the other teachers as well – teachers who are mostly kind, but many of whom seem to have given in to – don’t hate – this culture of low expectations. Yes, I know tossing around conservative buzzwords like that isn’t going to earn me any brownie points on the island (especially considering that I – I! – am probably the second-most conservative person here, after the immortal Quagmire). And it sounds strange to say that about a country like Korea, where rank is emphasized above all. But most of my low-level second (eighth) graders seem to have actually regressed. And sometimes I feel like the teachers have given up on them – “oh,” they say, “maybe he does not speak the English well, so maybe we give something easier.” So? That’s why I’m here. So help me by at least translating my instructions, making him – or her – do what they’re supposed to. It doesn’t matter if it takes longer. I’ve got time to teach them. That is, after all, what I’m here to do. Teaching doesn’t get easier with the fact that due to scheduling changes, half the time I don’t see classes for weeks and weeks. I had a class of eighth grade boys today and I think I have seen them once before. Maybe twice. How am I supposed to teach them anything?
I am happily offering this post late at night from the comfort of my bed, thanks to the arrival of my new MacBook. Oh it is so pretty.
Yes, I am one of those people now. I understand the ideological objections to Macs – they try to style themselves as this sort of anti-corporation, but if you have an Apple, everything is going to come from them. As my mother points out, my father’s refusal to accept the Apple corporation, despite how smoothly and beautifully my new computer runs, stems from a deep-seated desire to Not Sell Out To The Man. However, I have given up caring, etc.
I’m not entirely sure how to work everything yet. But I am quite happy with it. Today I also rode over that AWFUL road over the island, to Seogwipo to practice for this play I’m doing for the English festival, and I listened to “Captain Badass” by Songs:Ohia and remembered how good it feels to feel sad sometimes.
More later. I am up too late.
