Holiday

“Same same but different” is a tongue-in-cheek Thai saying often, but not exclusively, referring to knock-off items sold at the ubiquitous street markets. (For example: “Madame, you wanna watch?” “Is it Timex?” “Yeah, same same.” Except that it’s not.)

The following multiple choice offerings feature three “same same's” and one “different.” Find the fakes, if you can!

Let's get ready to barter! 

Bangkok is a city ______.

a)    whose sights and smells overwhelm and assault the senses

b)    famous for its pristine parks and public washrooms

c)     where street-food makes you salivate despite its questionable sanitation

d)    crawling with lonely old men looking for love (or something like it)

Pristine park? Check.

Christmas Eve, I ______.

a)    survived my first tuk-tuk experience

b)    got teary-eyed while lighting candles and singing “Oh Holy Night” during a church service at Bangkok Christian College

c)     treated myself a to delicious Lebanese dinner, a slightly disappointing Dairy Queen sundae, the critically-acclaimed “Prodigal Summer” by Barbara Kingsolver, and tickets to the Glee-esque feel-good movie “Pitch Perfect”

d)    was scarred for life at a “ping-pong show” in Bangkok’s red-light district

It's kind of like a souped-up golf cart.

Ladyboys are more ______ than me.

a)    stylish

b)  high-pitched

c)     beautiful

d)    flirtatious

one of many impressive buildings at the Grand Palace

On Christmas Day, I ______.

a)    got chewed-out (“I don’t want you doing that here. It’s very invasive.”) by a bitter old beer-drinking British bah humbug hanging around my hostel while Skyping my family at 10 am

b)    visited the Grand Palace and Wat Pho

c)     mourned the fact that the highly anticipated “Les Misérables” will not be in Bangkok until late January and slept through “Life of Pi”, instead

d)    kept my cool after being winked at by an on-duty cop 

me not being patient at Wat Pho

All around the world, people love Canadian music. Thailand is no exception.

a)  I found Neil Young, Kathleen Edwards, Feist, K'Naan, Metric, and six different Joni

     Mitchell CDs at a music store in a monstrous mall.

b)  I was serenaded by a bunch of over-dramatic, inebriated tourist boy-men with

      a ridiculous rendition of "My Heart Will Go On" during a (slightly) scary ferry to

      party paradise island Koh Phangan.

c)  I responded in kind by belting the opening lines of Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me,

      Maybe" to every available, attractive man I met.

d)  From "Mistletoe" at the movie theatre to "Eenie Meenie" at the club to

     "Boyfriend" on street vendors' radios, Bieber Fever is alive and well in Bangkok.*

fresh, affordable fruit...slobber...drool

Chiang Mai is a city ______.

a)    with lots of outdoorsy stuff to do

b)    where we met a sweet and most surprising monk

c)     that is extremely expensive

d)    I never want to visit again

Looks like Saskatchewan (same same...

The most important things to bring on a slightly disorganized and surprisingly demanding “non-touristic” jungle trek are ______.

a)    hand sanitizer

b)    the latest Time magazine

c)     plenty of money for bottled water

d)    a sense of humour 

....but different!)

Memorable moments from said tour include ______.

a)    meeting interesting people from Belgium, Holland, Switzerland, and Alaska

b)    being woken up hours before sunrise by competitive, confused roosters 

c)     riding “bareback” on the neck of an elephant

d)    the unforgettable waterfall and amazing white-water rafting

Team Canada and our Thai friend

Throughout the trip, I slept ______.

a)    like a sloth

b)    in short, periodic bursts indifferent to time of day

c)     nearly as much in trains and planes as in my hostels

d)    an average of five hours per night

the gorgeous gazebo I had to drag myself away
from to go exploring (being on vacation is hard)

Aoi Garden Home is ______.

a)    the dream-turned-reality of a remarkable Thai woman named Aoi

b)    , in the words of a skeptic-turned-believer, “a hippie commune paradise”

c)  ridiculously expensive

d)  likely the best hostel experience I've ever had.**

I would live here.

Hard Road Café is ______.

a)    owned and operated by four good-hearted, good-looking, but kind of clueless beach bums from France

b)    home to a pleasing array of catchy pop, reggae, R&B, and other summer tunes spun from about 9 am until the wee hours of morning 

c)     a spotless, odorless home-away-from-home with speedy service, showers that drain, toilets that flush, sinks that don’t dribble on your feet, and guests that don’t retch behind buildings while you brush your teeth

d)    probably the worst hostel I’ve ever stayed at

classy joint

The Full Moon Party at Haad Rin beach on New Year’s Eve was ______.

a)    an eye-opening and euphoric experience enabling epiphanies essential to my evolution

b)    multiple memorable hours of mischief and mayhem

c)     a collection of the charming and chiseled of countless countries chock-full of chemicals to conveniently counter the curse of celibacy  

d)    disappointing due to a deficiency of decent DJs and an abundance of alcohol-ed alpha-males wading out in the ocean to pee

liquid courage comes in a bucket

Cheesiest pick-up lines include “______.”

a)    I was wondering if you would do me a favour. See, I haven’t had my New Year’s kiss yet…

b)    You’re very maternal.

c)     I want to know you.

d)    I’m a good guy. Life is short.

2013, よろしく!

Things I meant to but didn’t do include ______.

a)    taking a Thai cooking class

b)    meditation

c)     replacing my ratty business casual work wardrobe

d)    getting a massage every day

Does this qualify as business casual?

In Thailand, ______.

a)    sweetened condensed milk is its own food group

b)    “same same” means that night market “North Face” backpack won’t last the trip

c)     “a little spicy” means you’ll feel it tomorrow

d)    toilet paper gets flushed down the toilet

It looked harmless enough.

The weather was ______.

a)    cold and cloudy

b)    in the high twenties

c)     sunny every day save one

d)    perfect

A girl could get used to this.

Thai people ______.

a)    smile back at you

b)    are uptight and in a hurry

c)     deeply respect their King and Queen

d)    generally speak excellent English 

a monk (but not the one you're thinking of) feeding the fish

Airports are ______.
a)    sterile
b)    super fun
c)     soul-sucking
d)    stressful

Don't let this friendly (fierce?)  face fool you.

I would die happy if I never again had to deal with ______.

a)    street food

b)    Shanghai airport

c)     egocentric American baby-boomers with the laughable sense of superiority due to the fact that they are on holiday and thus, “entitled” to enjoy themselves

d)  the misnomer that is Expedia

sunburned + stuffing my face with sticky mango rice
 = success!    

During my travels, I may have ______.

a)     met the man of my dreams while busting a move on a Bangkok dance floor

b)     fallen into a dirt pit while trying to avoid using a primitive and pitch-black squaty-potty

        outhouse on the jungle tour

c)     gotten serially scammed while consuming, considering, and commuting

d)    punched a drunken frat boy in the face while protecting a friend from unwanted

        advances on New Year’s Eve   

Attack of the Jungle Mud: The Sequel?

Traveling in and around Thailand was pretty straight-forward. Bangkok has an amazingly efficient metro and sky train system, and while the cross-country trains were slow (and ran late), they got us where we needed to go. Flying was another story.

a)    Thai SMILE Airlines forgot Jessica’s suitcase in Bangkok, requiring she and I to travel by ferry, bus, and taxi (and back again) on our own coin much the next day to retrieve it from the Koh Samui Airport. 

b)    Our return flights with China Eastern Airlines got messy, resulting in Josh, Suzanne, and I literally running from shuttle bus to Customs in order meet up with Brooke, collect our baggage and clear Security in Shang Hai (replacing Chicago as my least favorite airport on earth) before checking right back in for our hour-long flight to Osaka.

c)     We missed (as we were logistically, if not emotionally, prepared for) the last bus to Tottori by just under an hour, requiring us to check in at a capsule hotel in Osaka. While we would have preferred our own beds, it was a cool experience. 

d)    Upon our return, Tottori looked like a gloomy snow-globe, complete with swirling flurries and icy road conditions that caused our bus to spin out-of-control and into the ditch. Thankfully, no one was injured.

bad to the bone

Other surprises include ______.

a)    catching up with a friend from Regina in Bangkok

b)    the loudest kid on my transcontinental family-filled flight from Bangkok to Shang Hai was not only Japanese, but also old enough to know better

c)     the subconscious ability to self-monitor the intense culture shock that can accompany international travel 

d)  catching up with a friend from Seoul in Bangkok

Good-bye, lovely Thailand. I'll be back!

I came home with ______.

a)    food poisoning, malaria, and a Farang (motorcycle) tattoo
b)    my curry craving satisfied, my Vitamin D replenished, my thirst for adventure slaked…for now
c)     red jungle mud on my shoes, white beach sand in my bag, and rainbowed flecks of glow-in-the-dark paint on a soon-to-be-retired dancing dress
d)    good anecdotes, great friends, and enough sunflower, rye, and pumpernickel bread to last until February

the capsule was pretty comfortable, but...

I am happy to be back in Tottori because ______.

a)    I love my bed

b)    I need a vacation from my vacation

c)     I missed school lunch

d)    I’m looking forward to karaoke   

*Interesting aside: In a recent exclusive Oprah interview, Justin cites Japan as his favorite country because he loves “the culture and the people” and the fact that he can "walk around and not get noticed as much." This might explain why most of my small-town students don’t know who he is. Or PSY, for that matter. (But that’s a whole other kettle of sashimi.)

**The runner-up award goes to Hostel Majda in Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

with love from England and Newfoundland
via Riviére-du-Loup (Christmas 2010)

Dear friends and family,

Another year, another Christmas letter. Unfortunately, the fact that it’s being written at the last minute from the other side of the world (what else is new?) means that I risk infringing on the privacy of those nearest and dearest to me. (Sorry, daddy, but by the time you’d proofread this, I’ll be in Bangkok.) So, I’ll be brief.

Mom is working, singing, and “computer-ing” with confidence. (Now, to convince her and dad to join Facebook.) She is my source of information on everything familial, arts and culture, and Regina-related. My teachers can’t get over how わかい (young) and きれい

(beautiful) she is. 

Dad hunts (______), shoots (______), kills (______) and provides for his (_______) family/deer/pucks/zombies. He continues to maintain a mustache and a fleet of Hondas, neither of which fails to impress my elementary and junior high school students.  

John is a moneyman by day and a wildman by night. If you haven’t heard his band’s latest stuff, you should: http://thewildmen.bandcamp.com/ Most of my female students are in love with him. わかりません (I don’t know why.)    

Scott is a student, philosopher, and concerned citizen. He takes after his older brother in his ability to impressively articulate his complex criticisms and concerns about the world. My students call him “Scott-o.”

When I’m not Skyping my family, I’m whipping up worksheets and surprising students, hiding out in my teeny-tiny apartment getting domestic with my one stove-top burner and combination microwave/convection oven, or listening to CBC Radio podcasts in the great outdoors while pondering my bizarre but blessed existence.

In less than six hours, I’m off to Thailand to throw a bikini on a sun-starved body fueled for the past month by spicy chili, homemade eggnog, creamy green curry (none of which I made – I have good neighbors!), rich restaurant food, fudge, and peppermint brownies. (Fun fact: some Japanese people don’t care for peppermint or root-beer because the flavours remind them of medicine.) 

With dreams of English Christmas Eve church services and Christmas Day movies, beach parties, meditation, snorkeling, and elephant rides, this Christmas could be my weirdest yet, but here's hoping it’s a merry little one, nevertheless.

And, of course, I wish the same for you!

Lots of love,

Echo    

with love from China, America, Canada, New Zealand, Russia,
and the Philippines (who'd I miss?) via Japan

Turning Japanese

At a performance review one year ago, a certain Canadian was told that she is “too Japanese.” In true Japanese style, her supervisor’s assessment was both complimentary and critical; that “you are liked because you are very kind – too kind” and that “you care about others – you care too much.” To make matters crystal clear, her boss concluded, smiling, “I think you are very Japanese.”

So, dear readers, what do you think?

She eats raw broccoli and the skin of her fruits.

She doesn't own a rice-cooker nor does she consider rice a breakfast food.  

She has good days and bad days where chopsticks are concerned.

She's not a fan of natto. 

She prefers water to tea.

She loves to sing karaoke.

She gets called by (not her) name by locals mistaking her for one of the other blond foreigners in town.

She doesn't walk around the teachers’ room brushing her teeth after lunch or clip her nails at her desk in the morning.

She doesn't own a portable electronic Japanese-English dictionary. (She probably should.)

If there's even the slightest chance of rain or snow, she's got her umbrella. However, she will not use it to hide from the sun.

She will go without, rather than accidentally purchase a lotion with skin-whitening agents.

She's sometimes not sure whether to bow or shake hands.

She misses chocolate milk. And cheese.

She wouldn't dream of asking for a doggy-bag.

She refuses to eat KFC on Christmas Day.

She hangs out at school considerably less than her Japanese counterparts and constantly feels guilty. That said, she has no intention of not taking all twenty of her paid leave days.

Her automatic impulse is apologetic.

Her default picture pose involves the peace (victory?) sign.

After a busy day bustling with people, she looks forward to coming home to her quiet apartment, which she's never thought of as lonely because it lacks a husband and three children under the age of six.

She’s twenty-six, not married, and not looking.

She sets a good example for her students by finishing her fish – head, bones, and all.

She won’t eat while walking, unless she’s being a tourist in another part of Japan.

She's got the requisite sweet tooth, but misses the intensity of such flavors as peppermint, vanilla, and root beer.

Nakedness is nothing new.

She's still a baby when it comes to reading, writing, and having a conversation in Japanese.

When it comes to communicating, she’d rather use a written combination of poorly conjugated hiragana and katakana than open her mouth to speak.

She understands more than she can articulate.

She doesn’t drink much at work enkais, knowing she’ll learn so much more through sober observation.

She sometimes pushes the “flushing sound effect” button in public washrooms – not for her own comfort, but out of consideration for others.

If you consider sugar a drug, she’s four for seven as far as the Vapors are concerned.

Some Things You Never Get Used To

the presence of raw eggs in Japanese cuisine. Actually, the omnipresence of eggs in dishes, in general. (I am not complaining. For the record, one of my favourite foods in Japan is oyakodon 親子丼 – meaning ‘parent and child’ – a delicious mixture of chicken, egg, and sliced scallions served on rice.)

mochi* pretending to be cheese. (Again, not complaining. Anything that mimicks the deliciously gooey texture, if not the flavour, of melted cheese, is a-okay by me, as the Real McCoy – expensive and unpopular -- is a rarity in rural Japan.)

mayonnaise pretending to be cheese. (This one, I’m less okay with. Whether it be on pizza, slathered thickly on sandwiches, or as a main ingredient in various meat and “cheese” breads, mayo is not, and never will be, cheese.)

individually-wrapped everything (think: Halloween-candy portions all year ‘round), including the equivalent of maybe three Pringles’ worth of small, spicy shrimp rice crackers

the use of umbrellas for sun and rain

the bone-chillingly cold water in the washrooms, or the arbitrary availability of soap

the terrifyingly “mind over matter” art of sitting seiza (on your heels, with numb feet folded under you)

when rags that were, minutes earlier, racing lint, crumbs, and hairballs along the floor, are next used to dust off counters, desktops, and windowsills

student-enforced discipline including shouts of “shizuka” (“Be quiet!”) during especially rowdy elementary school lunch-hours, and junior high girls walloping their male counterparts (hard!) when they drift off in class

the cutting of fingernails in the morning staffroom**


And some things you do…


elementary school kids cruising (and, on occasion, wobbling) around the playground (typically, a versatile gravel lot) on unicycles with slightly deflated wheels

students sprinting through unheated winter hallways from toasty classroom to toasty classroom wailing “samui, samui” (“It’s cold, it’s cold!”), only to throw open the windows of said rooms after returning from P.E. moaning “atsui, atsui” (“I’m hot, I’m hot!”)

spelling “colour” and “favour” without the “u” and referring to the United States as “America”

high school students wearing school uniforms, regardless of the day of the week

elementary school girls wearing shorts and knee-high socks that never quite meet, even in the darkest days of winter

the style, for females in general, to wear clothing that leaves the knee to mid-thigh exposed

cold rice and raw fish

sitting through all manner of meetings, ceremonies of all sorts, sermons, speeches, and street talk where, when it comes to deciphering what’s going on, anyone’s guess is better than mine

not eating or drinking on the street (when I do, it just feels weird)

watching boys in their baseball uniforms and girls in their volleyball attire (i.e. gym shorts and wind-breaker jackets) scurry/trudge through the snow to/from the gym

the brotherly closeness of boys at school, the manner in which they link elbows, hug, hold hands, and drape arms over shoulders (when they aren’t punching, pulling, or dragging each other across the floor, of course)

the graceful, elegant, expressive movements of even the most manly hands

commuters in suits on bikes with umbrellas (even though the use of umbrellas while cycling was outlawed back in October 2011)

my microwave/convection oven, which, on a miraculous day (like Holy Saturday) will bake a delectable chocolate cake, but which usually resigns itself to partially heating leftovers or 
making radioactive toast

the people and perspectives of rural Japan

the challenges of reading at a (near) Grade 1 level

the graciousness and generosity of others (I need to be so careful not to take them for 
granted)

the daily post-lunch souji*** sessions, where students change (or partly change) out of their 
uniforms and into the P.E. clothes, get down on their hands and knees, and clean dirt off the floor with a once-white rag (or, at least, push it around until the fifteen minutes is up)

the fact that what appears to be brown bread is far more likely to be chocolate-flavored

songs and musical cues to signal 6 am, 6 pm, the arrival and departures of trains, the entering and exiting of a conbini (convenience store), and just about anything else you weren't aware needed a soundtrack

the remarkable lack of litter on public transport, in the street, in Japan, in general

not understanding everything all of the time and being perfectly okay with it


*Mochi is glutinous rice pounded into a gooey, gluey goo. See July 20^th post for pictures. 

**Apparently, there is a Japanese superstition that if you cut your fingernails at night, your parents may die before you see them again. I don’t follow the connection, but I don’t follow a lot of things. As far as the significance of clipping nails at school is concerned, I think it’s merely something that didn’t get done at home. I’ve also seen some of my teachers brush their teeth upon arriving at the office.

***Because schools in Japan don’t generally employ a custodian, it is the job of the staff and students to keep their classrooms, corridors, toilets, library, and gymnasium clean. This involves collecting the trash, sweeping, wiping the floors, scrubbing the toilets, shaking out carpets and banging chalkboard brushes, shoveling snow and filling kerosene jugs in the winter, and weeding and watering plants in the spring and summer. Souji was strange to me when I first arrived in Japan, but when everyone participates, a concerted effort is made not to make a mess in the first place.