Revisiting the Seoul of life…

Posted on July 15, 2018 by Enzolinguist

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date 201807.29

I’m sitting at a park on a Sunday morning in Seoul around the corner in my neighborhood and I notice all these exercise machines that are in the park so I reckon we should have them in Australia as well they’re a really neat idea. This is a public park and they have one machine like an elliptical machine which is which runs on people power and other machines over there this like stepping one in neat little parks. It’s just on a bit of vacant land on the corner. of the major street corner.

Until recently in Seoul, they didn’t have street signs or names. They just went by corners and neighborhoods. After the World Cup in 2002, they must have instituted street names to allow the westerners visiting here to be able to get around. I thought, from a Linguistics point of view, it was interesting that the Korean for ‘road’ should be DAERO which is really the syllables of ROAD swapped around. So there!

I went to an Evangelical Holiness Church nearby today, and again I understood none of it except AMEN. I did recognize a song they sang though. I was set to the tune of God Save The Queen 🙂 Now they have a huge building, as you can see in the pics, but the service is conducted in the basement Chapel that holds about 300 people.

Household chores time and I put a load of washing on in the basement. Waiting in the front under the apartments there is building still going on today across the street.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date 201807.30

Today was the beginning of week 4 of my teaching in Seoul. The day went pretty easily with the students doing listening and reading this morning. This afternoon they had their first real writing test in which I timed them and gave them a limit. Now it waits to be seen how they go when I mark the essays tomorrow, and then they’ll have 5 days to type up the finished versions and email them to me for a grade. During the test, I wrote up their interim reports and emailed them to the college in Australia.

Tonight I was gonna just stay home and relax but I ended up going for a walk down the street, you know, to see and be seen as my cousin in Italy would say. But she would say, “Per vedere, e farmi vedere.” Anyway, I ended up at my fave restaurant and I didn’t even have to order, as the lady come over as soon as I sit down and shows me my meal on the menu, I nod and she smiles and goes away. Remember when I drank some beer the other evening and did an appraisal on the local brew, well now a former student in the USA who saw said beer, had dared me to drink Soju.

Soju is the drink that makes Korean guys look at you and smile knowingly. It is the local rice-based liquor, and as I am always up for a challenge. I asked the lady when she brought me iced water and glass if she could bring me a bottle of the local fire-water instead. I examined the label and it is 13% alcohol by volume, which just means that one can get quite sozzled drunk rather quickly. The taste though is quite benign. It has a slight burning sensation, that is barely noticeable, but then as it goes down your esophagus, you realize you just swallowed alcohol that will make you legless soon given the chance. Well, my mamma didn’t raise no fool and after three small glasses during dinner. I sealed the bottle and brought it home, to consume over the next few days.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date 201808.03

TGIF! Thank God it’s Friday. I just thought I would document my regular commute to work. As exciting as it might be. I come down from my apartment 1404 in the light-colored building adjacent to the fourth tree on the left side of the street, cross the road and take up my position at the bus stop outside the Galaxy Hotel. I wait for the Local 03 bus that goes to Dangsan Corner so I can catch the train to “the office,” at Sindorim. Incidentally, there is this young woman who is waiting at the same bus stop each day but she always hails a cab and goes off in that, hmm, maybe her boss pays for the cab each day. Or maybe she is…Nah, not in Korea…

I beep my way on to the bus and I am fortunate enough to find a seat right away and the photo is a view of the front door from my seat. The buses in most places in the world have double seats arranged pretty much in rows, with perpendicular seats over the wheel arches. Not so in Korea! Here the seats are just a single row along each side of the bus, which leaves much more standing room. I guess. That’s good during rush hour. The local buses don’t take a direct route to the station but enter each little side street on the way so that local residents can get a ride to the train. I have always thought that one doesn’t even need a car in Korea, as the public transport is pretty good. In fact, Many people, and certainly, none of my students have cars.

This is Dangsan Corner where the 03 just dropped me. I have to cross a few roads to get to the station. Of course, I could always go down into the subway and cross the road that way and then go to my platform that way. However, the prospect of navigating the labyrinthine Seoul subway, having entered on line 9 and having to make my way to line 2 all with no linguistic assistance, is terribly daunting. I choose to stay above ground where I just cross the road and walk up the stairs to line 2, when I need to, in the open. Of course, if I got lost underground then I wouldn’t have time for breakfast!

Ah, Isaac’s my Western-style breakfast bar. Here I usually just buy a piece of toasted bacon, egg and cheese sandwich, and a coffee before I go up to the platform. It’s run by a husband and wife I think and they have a good system going. She toasts the bread French-wise on the hotplate, and she does about 10 slices at a time, so that’s 5 sandwiches. She has individually wrapped cheese slices and little bacon rashers cut to size, but the eggs I found intriguing. when you fry an egg, the result is a roundish fry right, wrong, not with her. Her’s are square and the exact same size as the toast slices. Maybe she cooks them the night before or perhaps she buys them in already cooked as square fried eggs. What’ll they think of next eh?

Teacher’s Log: Supplemental:

I found out about the square fried eggs. She has a form thingy that she fries the eggs in, and instead of being round like we have in Australia, they are square. Four of them to a set. Tres Cool!

By the time I get up to platform 2, the crowds are starting to thicken up. It’s not like Japanese trains though, not yet anyway. Everyone is very polite and lines up waiting. Now, this is something new I saw on Korean train platforms: they have huge glass barriers between the trains and the passengers on the platforms, and when the train arrives it lines up the doors on the carriages with automatic doors in the barriers. When the train doors open the barrier doors open. Pretty neat I thought, as it stops people falling on the tracks.

The seats on the trains are pretty much the same as the buses. There is a bench running down the entire length of the walls of the carriage with the rest of the space as standing room. They must figure that people can stand for a bit and you can fit more people vertically than seated. The challenge here is one of finding a handhold to hold on to in a rush hour. Many Koreans don’t even bother holding on as they are so accustomed to the train’s movements that they don’t need to hold on. I can add here that I also am becoming quite accomplished at riding the train without holding on as well.

Three stations later we arrive at Sindorim Station, and I exit and make my way through the river of people flowing the opposite way to the escalator. Normally there are as many people going my way as well so they will help force the way through the throng. Today however I am earlier than usual and the crush is not so bad my way. I easily go up to the bleeping gates. (not a censored word btw)

These are the Bleeping Gates! Just like in Brisbane, you touch the card and a nice Korean woman’s voice says something to you, and a readout shows how much credit you have left. I proceed on through to the stairs and daylight.

As one starts up the stairs one can hear a steady tick tick tick outside that reminds one of the very primitive single cylinder outboard motors that used to ply the Gregory river up near Childers in Queensland, Australia. However, on exiting the subway, one is met by a Buddhist monk, and the tick tick tick turns out to be him. He has a 6-inch long bamboo stick and he is hitting it against a hollow gourd like a round thing. He has what looks like a little altar set up and he occasionally kneels on the little pedestal. I later asked my students what he was doing there, and they tell me he is trying to collect money. And I naively ask, what for charity, the Buddhist religion, etc? and they say Nah Nah, he’s a scammer, just for himself, hmm…

Next, I have to cross the road to get to my college street. Almost no one crosses here against the traffic lights as you’d be taking your life into your hands. For starters, the roads in the downtown areas are massive compared to Brisbane CBD roads. Ann st is about 10-15 meters wide, yet most main drags here are about 25-30 meters wide. You really can only cross with the lights, you don’t want to be caught in the road when traffic comes. BTW, the building there is a Women’s Hospital. There is also a Dental Surgery there that filled my tooth a couple of weeks ago.

This is the street where my college is, and this is the convenience store where I get my lunch each day. Either some noodles, or rice, or sandwiches, something simple. The store usually has a buy 2 get one more for free sale going, so I buy two and get three, and I am good for three days of lunch. It perplexes the students that I don’t have more than one course for lunch…

On the walk to the college, I walk past many many restaurants. I have had lunch in two of them myself and I know students have partaken of others. But this is a pattern that is replicated all over Seoul, and it makes me wonder if any Koreans cook at home at all. Maybe they all eat out at little neighborhood restaurants? They all seem to be doing a good trade in the evenings.

Ah, finally I arrive at college. Hangul Vocational Training Institute. Oh look I just saw my reflection in the door window. The doors are unlocked and I walk in. Only 8am and already the heat is oppressive. At least it’s not humid as well.

My classroom is ready for the day, of course, having been prepared yesterday before I left. And now suffering from the heat I turn to the…

Air Conditioning switch on the wall and I see that the Principal had turned it on for me as soon as he’d arrived, God Bless his heart.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date 201808.04

I went for a walk last night and I happened to walk past a back street noodle shop and they had their freshly made noodles handing out to dry just like we used to in Italy with the home-made spaghetti Check it out.

A funny thing happened this afternoon as I went into this convenience store to buy a nice cool drumstick ice cream thingy, and, as is my wont, I handed over my Aussie credit union card, and sometimes they have asked me to sign the electronic pad because it’s a foreign card, but get this. When her lil EFTPOS machine said I had to sign, she just scribbled on it with her fingernail and hit enter, and it went through 😛 ha ha

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date 201808.05

At Camp David in Seoul, having a coffee, waiting for Kim Jong-un so we can continue peace talks.

Teacher’s Log: Supplemental

Do you remember President Daddy Bush at dinner with the Chinese Premier? He chucked up on him? Well, I felt like that just now, I had made this post originally and went to pick up my iced coffee for a sip, but I grabbed the widest part of the glass and forgot about condensation and glass surfaces. The glass went skidding across the table spilling ice and iced coffee everywhere. How Embarrassment! Effie would say. She was nice about it tho, she cleaned it up and smiled a lot as I apologized for my clutziness, she probably wrote me in her black ban book now as, That foreign guy…

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date 201808.07

Yesterday when I traveled to work I noticed my transport pass was down to just a few thousand Won so I thought I must recharge it. I tried to use numerous ATMs and it spat my card out each time to no joy there. Now, you do this by going to any convenience store, much like in Australia and putting money on the card. The difference here is that they only accept cash in stores or the machines to recharge cards, which I thought was weird.

Anyway, my Liaison said I should just transfer money from my Aussie bank to hers and she would give me cash. So she sends me her bank details and I tried to do a transfer, trouble is they don’t have BSBs here just a series of letters which my bank didn’t recognize. So Yesterday I offered to buy my students lunch with my card and they could give me cash, but that didn’t work as they all bought their lunch with cards too so no cash or cashie in Konglish.

Despondent I arrived back at my apt with just 2000 in my card for travel and no cash to recharge it, so I looked up the google map and found a bank across the road from the apt. I went there and at first couldn’t find the door so I go in the lobby of the building and ask, “where’s the bank” and they point to the right so I nip outside and find a door with the bank logo on it and enter to find a row of ATMs with Hangul all over them, that wouldn’t work!

So I go outside the room and look for the main door, nothing. I can see tellers and stuff through the windows, but there’s no door! I’m walking all around this building looking for the door. Finally, I go back to the lobby and ask the doorman where the @#$%& front door is, and he points in the same direction again, and this time the penny drops and I see the interior door he meant, not the outside, I felt quite dumb.

The Teller tells me, well she is a teller after all, so she tells me that I have to use the ATM as it’s a foreign card, and I look at her like a deer in the headlights again and explain that it’s all in Korean and I am afraid I’ll lose my card by pressing the wrong buttons. She was very accommodating and came to the ATMs with me and used my card and I entered my “secret number” as they call it, and I actually withdrew cash. Yay!

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date 201808.10

SOCIOLINGUISTICS – GESTURES 101

Anyone who has been reading my blog entries would kind of know that I have been eating out a lot over the time I have been in Seoul. Mostly I have paid with my debit card and whenever I handed it over to the cashier or waitress, said the person would take the card in one hand while tucking the other hand back from the palm of the first hand back near the elbow or so. This happened for a few weeks and I didn’t think anything of it, and I like the boorish westerner just handed my card as usual with a hand outstretched. However, it was always grabbed like so, almost as if it would break if handled single-handedly.

I finally got a “round tuit,” not a square or oblong tuit, but a round tuit, so I asked my students today why Korean people grab credit cards like that. I got schooled as they say in America. Yes, it is a polite custom and sign of respect to elders to not grab the credit card or cash for that fact with one hand, but two. One hand is generally extended and the other is placed near the elbow of the outstretched one. It is handed back that way too. I had thought they were just being extra careful not to lose the credit card while processing the sale, well, who knew? And now I do!

Teacher’s Log: Supplemental

There is a kind of proliferation of billiard halls here in Seoul and after my meal of Seafood Fried Rice, I went for a look-see. I chose one that I have walked past a few times and went inside and followed the stairs down to where I assumed the billiards were. I walked in some glass doors and was inside a nightclub kind of place with sofas and coffee tables all over and a band set of instruments in the corner. Nothing was happening though, mo music, or dancing or even drinking, so I figured that it was probably too early to be rocking on. I spoke to the manager-like guy there and he said that I could avail myself of the good times there, any time I wanted, as he had karaoke, drinks, dancing. But the place was empty!

I went to the bar and asked the lady there for a drink of Soju, and she muttered something in Korean then she walked away, hmm weird, so I looked at the manager=like guy and gave him my best Terminator. “I’ll be back!”

Walking upstairs I espied a staircase going up to the second floor so I decided to check that one out too, and lo and behold, there was the vaunted Billiards room… It is run by a lady who sits by the front door and she rents out the billiards on a per game basis I guess. It has been ages since I actually saw a proper billiards table (one without pockets), and I sat and watched a couple of games. At the same time, I was texting my friend here that we had to get together and have a game in one of the many halls.

Teacher’s Log: Stardate: 201808.11

Ahh Saturday morning, and went on another exploration expedition and this time I chose to explore in the opposite direction from the station at Dangsan where I go every day. There’s a massive freeway running beside the Han river and I walked up on the overpass to have a gander. There’d been a fender-bender by the looks and the cops had just arrived too.

This is the alleyway beside the freeway, and on the overpass, and that’s a Brown Stone Apartment building. I know that because it says… “Brown Stone 101”.

The Underpass beside the freeway for local traffic. I wonder why the metal rails are on the edges of the stairs? Maybe they are there for some kind of vehicle?

Continuing my jaunt I walked back up the alleyway towards the main drag.

This is a back street one street back from the main drag of Beodeunaro Rd. It’s quite a culture shock to see that people live in apartments this close to a major part of their city. The advantage is that you needn’t go very far to work or downtown if you had to, as everywhere is basically downtown, more or less.

Right in the center of what turned out to be an industrial type business area, there’s this 5-star hotel plonked there. I guess your international executives have to stay somewhere.

They don’t really have outdoor CAR SALES yards here. They have showrooms and they are indoor, and this is one most people will recognize. We shall look closer on the way back.

Of course, no heavy industry sales area is complete without a Hyundai business.

Another well-known name, Hankook, which literally means Korean. Han is Korea, and kook relates to the people who live in Han. Incidentally, American is Mikook, sometimes spelled Miguk, which is the origin of another army generic term used to describe Asians. Koreans called Americans MIGUK during the Korean war, and the GIs thought they were introducing themselves as “me gook”, so the term was born. It is now used as a slur for all Asians.

I thought this was an interesting name for a cafe. I immediately saw the Scriptural significance of the name. “I Am” is one of the names of God. I wondered if the owner was a devout student of the Old Testament or simply a gimmick user to get customers in. I was to get the answer when I crossed to the other side of the road.

I mentioned in previous posts about the Korean love affair with coffee. Well, this cafe business owner has interesting ways to promote his business. Oh incidentally, Hangul doesn’t differentiate between F and P or G and K very clearly, so many people pronounce Coffee as koppi.

I thought this guy was photo-worthy as a cultural fashion statement. Most construction workers wear rugged blue or khaki clothes. Not this fashion-conscious guy, he came to work in his pyjamas. At least he remembered his hard hat.

The Yellow Cabs here are the same Orange as in Brisbane. And they’re way cheaper too!

About $50,000 AUD

That’s more like it!

And as is my wont, after a couple of hours wandering in the noonday sun, I retire to “To Presso” for an Iced coff.

Teacher’s Log: Stardate: 201808.13

In Brisbane, we have homestay students from Asia stay at our house. Jess is a house-mother as they are called. When I moved in with her I had to go through the same security and background checks by the government so in effect I became a house-father, as it were. In any case, Haeji moved into our house in Brisbane a week before I left for Seoul. She returned to Korea just a week ago. I met up with and had lunch with Haeji, the same former homestay student in Brisbane. We had a spicy lunch in a chicken restaurant across from my Seoul college. It was very nice to catch up and hear about her exploits in Brissy. I then took her to meet my class, and they were all wowed by her “cutie” ness.

Teacher’s Log: Stardate: 201808.17

In the lobby/foyer of the college here there has been set up a book of poetry, in Hangul of course, and each day as I walk in I wonder what it says. Well now that I have discovered the Google reading/scanning translator app, I decided to apply this app and see what kind of poetry it is. To compare it to Vogon poetry, as it were.

SONG

Do not play the mother godmother.

The night is deep and the wind is cool.

It seems to be the remains of the Bronze Age.

It is a half-moon shaped rock knife. The moon is in the darkness.

I took half of my life and my mother bloomed with salt blooms.

It’s a pale hair’s string I’m rusty harmonica I’m not tuned I’m a bitchy bones.

I can hear the sound of a wave breaking through my neck.

My mother is not ringing you

I’m falling down the Jinyangjo Jangdan

Teacher’s Log: Stardate: 201808.18

As I have always said, the Koreans love their coffee, and this morning on my downtown walk, as is my wont, I decided to see what French Bakery delicacies were available at a shop called “Paris Baguette” I went in and my senses were immediately assailed by the sweet aromas of cakes of all sorts, with creams, glaces, candies, chocolates, in effect, a break-up consolation heaven.

As it turned out the place was more than just a French bakery, but also a coffee shop as well, and I availed myself of a croissant and an Americano. See how that just rolls off the tongue now? Americano is my new word instead of black coffee. NIce croissant too.

Y’all will remember about a month ago, when I was checking out a building that I found out was a Sabbath church. Well on the way back to my apt I walked past it and as it was a Saturday, the front door was open and I could see people inside. Being the curious bloke I am, I go in to check it out. I walked into the landing at the top of the stairs and there were about 25 pairs of shoes there. So I figure I must be at Mt Sinai, and like Moses, I remove my Nikes as well and suddenly I am met by this Korean woman, who is speaking a foreign language to me. Duh.

I reach for my trusty google translator app, but of course, I am not online so the app doesn’t work so I tell her that I saw the doors open and I was curious and wanted to check their Church out. She understood none of that of course and through our mutual smiling at each other and gesticulating, she motioned me to come inside. It felt a bit weird walking inside a church barefooted, as I was not wearing socks, as you do, but I saw many of them were without socks also.

It turned out that they were indeed a 7th Day Adventist Church and right here in my neighborhood, and when they had established that I was from Australia, this woman managed to ask if I had eaten lunch yet. As soon as I said well no not yet, there was a smorgasbord in front of me of rice and eggplant and vegetarian delicacies, as is their wont, of course.

We were having difficulties communicating the finer points of my doctrinal beliefs and Adventism experiences, so I asked for some paper and a pen, thinking that I would write it in English then have the app translate it to Korean. It was a stroke of genius for as soon as I have written it in English the ladies there, who were all professionals, read it and we understood each other perfectly. One was a Dr. Kim, and Ms. Kim was an Accountant, and Mrs. Kim was a Business professional. Dr. Kim joked that if you walked out in the busy sidewalk and called out “Hey Mr. Kim” most of the men would answer you, “Yeh.”

Anyway, I have been invited back to their Saturday service next week at 9.30 am.

Teacher’s Log: Stardate: 201808.20

Yesterday the sidewalk outside my fave coffee shop in Seoul, To Presso, was all ripped up by a work crew as I figure they had to get to something under it and now they will repave the tiles, etc. Of course, there is always the bevy of old retired guys looking on and providing the benefit of their vast experience to the younger workers.

Just like my father when he retired from being a concrete plasterer, He continued to wake up at 4am every morning, and he would spend his mornings out at the Maroochy River, where they were building the Sunshine Motorway bridge. He would look at the workers and nod his head and mutter his approval or disapproval about how they were going about doing their work. And you could hear him, “mmhm, ahh yeh, uh uh, mmmhmm, Nah Nah, arhh you stupid…”

Anyway, on Beodeunaru St in Seoul, it was much the same with the workers digging with a backhoe type machine and the old retired guys standing around muttering to each other, nodding or shaking heads. The more places you go, the more same folks you encounter.

Teacher’s Log: Stardate: 201808.22

This is what one of my typical classes looks like. The students are eager and diligent and try to do their best. In this case, I had set them to work writing paragraphs on a range of topics to express different ideas.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201808.23

The next day, as I was coming out of To Presso after my regular afternoon coff, I hear and see sirens and red lights flashing. Never a dull moment in Seoul, as shortly thereafter the cops arrive, sirens blazing also, and not to be outdone, along comes the ambulance. There was something going on in the apartments across the road from my place.

Teacher’s Log: Supplemental

Update: I set my students to work on their essays due next Monday, in AP style no less, and they are all working, as y’all saw when one of the hairdressing apprentices comes in from the classroom across the corridor. He tells us that they are in need of volunteers/guinea pigs for the stylists to practice on. as it were. Well being the ever-helpful teacher, I volunteer for a free shampoo along with Mi-so and Sae-mi, a couple of girls from the class.

The lads had to give the V for victory sign, it is their thing, after all.

As they got close to finishing the blow-job on me…er I mean the blow-drying job on me, their teacher came over and inspected their work on my hair and gave them the thumbs up, well really, the V sign, which I guess means victory in this case.

My two apprentice blokes shared a pose afterward, and a job well done, with the customary V sign which is predominantly an Asian “thing” to do in photos.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201808.25

This morning at 9.15, I went to check out the service at the SDA Church I had found just around the corner. As usual, I was ushered upstairs to the chapel and outside there was a big case with square boxes that you had to put your shoes in, and yeah I think, ok, when in Rome…Trouble is that I was dressed ultra-casually and not wearing socks with my Nikes so I was the only congregant with bare feet, everyone else had socks on like civilized folks in Church. When the murmurs started and people were looking at my feet and pointing and giggling, I simply referred them to Exodus and Moses’ meeting with God. He was instructed to remove his shoes as he was on holy ground. I figured I was complimenting their Church by calling it holy ground, well, holy 2nd floor actually.

The service seemed to me to be somewhat casual with people doing what I normally do and interjecting during the preacher talk and him talking back to them. A funny thing was that every now and again the preacher would rattle off a question in Korean and someone would yell out the answer. A lady dressed in Traditional Korean costume would walk to them and give them what looked to me like a bar of deodorant soap. I thought this was weird for a church service. In any case, this woman comes to me in my seat and hands me a form written in Korean, Duh! It had all these spaces on it and I tried using my google translator to read it but no dice. So I just got a pen and wrote my name on one of the lines and handed it back to her.

About 10 minutes later the woman in costume stands to the podium and says my name in a very loud Korean accent, and everyone there turns to me and starts clapping. I sort of feeling like Kramer in the Latvian church for a moment. They didn’t start screaming Kavorka! at me though and I stood and smiled, and this lady came and gave me two packets of Dentyne, hmm…what are they trying to tell me? She also gave me a small long cardboard box, and I was thinking it was a toothbrush, judging by the other gifts so far, but it turned out to be a nice looking pen.

It turned out that the 9.30-10.30 meeting was just a study session and the real service started at 11.00 am. I stayed for that of course but I understood about as much as I had understood the Presbyterian service I had been going to, save the occasional Amen, Kamsamnida, and I actually heard him say Jesusu Christu once today too.

I found out that Koreans are pretty easy to barter with tonight too. I had walked down to a Billiard hall to pass some time and play a game of 8-Ball. So I ask the guy how much for a game, and he holds up one finger, so I go yeh ok and pull out 1000 won, and he shakes his head and I pull out a second 1000 won note and he says no again. finally, he gets through to me that he meant 10,000 won, and I thought dang, that’s a bit rich for a pool game $12. So I shake my head and say Nah Nah mate I’m by myself and just wanted to hit around but not for 10,000, so I just started walking out of the hall. This other guy that was playing Billiards speaks English to me and explained that there was a misunderstanding. He had meant 10,000 won for the table for 1 hour. Now that was better, but I didn’t want to stay there a whole hour playing alone so I said a half hour would work so the guy agreed 5,000.

I got three games in playing myself of course so I knew what the opposition was planning all along. I had figured that I would be quite lousy at the game of pool as I have not played for decades, but I acquitted myself quite well and I only missed a few shots, and I even managed to sink a ball by using my backhand shot on the wrong side of the table.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201808.27

On Sunday I decided to get some exercise and walked around the block to the park and the exercise machines. This machine is like a step machine that you just step in and swing your legs back and forward, like an elliptical, but you are just going straight. It’s good in that there is no impact and you get to move and experience the range of motions, and the resistance is your own that you put into it. I did 100 repetitions, that is a hundred steps on my left side, so if I count both legs I did 200.

This is the swivel machine. You stand on the little platform and it is on an axle, and you swivel from one side to the other while holding on to the bar. I guess you could do it freehand too without holding on either. Once again I did 100 swivels with one complete after swiveling to both sides.

This was a weird one but I used it. You stand on the douvre and swing your legs from side to side. It works your hips muscles I guess and thighs. I did another 100 reps on that one too. Then I continued my walk around the block and when I passed the billiards club corner I went into one hall and since they had a pool table I played pool for half an hour or so.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201808.28

I was teaching a lesson this morning using the Cambridge Intermediate IELTS course textbook and I had to correct some glaring instances of political bias as we read the text through.

The article was talking about the origins of alphabets and writing etc with hieroglyphics and Phoenician writing etc, and it went on to state: “A totally new development in writing appeared in the Middle East about 3,700 years ago, when Egyptian hieroglyphs were well established. This was a North Semitic alphabet, which evolved in Palestine and Syria.” (Black, 105) Neither of these nations existed at that date, as Palestine was a creation of the Roman Empire in an effort to erase Israel’s sovereignty. The area at the time was either Canaan or the beginnings of Israel. But what can one expect from a British Uni publication striving to be politically correct?

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201808.30

Today the lessons get a fair bit hands-on with the preparation of their presentations. I imagine all of them will opt to make a PowerPoint as their display medium, and thanks to my experiences in American schools, I am somewhat of an expert at PPTs. The weeks seem to be flying by really quickly now and I am almost at the end of Week 8, how about that? Just 3 weeks to go! Anyway, time for some culture:

New Foyer Poem

The poem has been changed in the foyer here at college.

PLEASE

Please do not hurt a bit.

Even if I live only with water,

This asshole!

For what reason

do you snore fishing hooks?

Would not you be afraid

to lie down next?

I do not know how to do this,

But I do not know what to do,

But I do not know what to do.

Are you a mess of the lake

Where my peace is on the spit?

Please come now.

It may have lost some nuances and things in the translation, but then again it could be an example of post-post modernity in poetry, enjoy y’all…

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201808.31

I found this rather interesting here. It is an executive Hyundai office building, which in itself is not that interesting. It was on further investigation in the car park/parking lot at the front that I was amused.

In one of the “manager” parking spots, there was a Mercedes. So much for Brand Loyalty eh?

On the walk to work this morning I have begun taking a different route up beside the creek road which means I don’t have to navigate the cars on the street and it’s on the same level as the college entrance so no stairs, as a bonus. So anyway, as I walked, I looked around, as you do, and my senses were assailed once again with this example of “expert” Korean workmanship in the electrical trades. What looked like two air conditions units were being fed into offices by having their major electrical cables just running outside the building. Way to go!

I had experienced this on my last contract in Korea some 19 years ago when I had ordered the Internet in my apartment and the workers arrived to hook me up and they just climbed to the roof and draped the cable down the outside of the building, in the back window, through the bedroom to the living room and the computer. Hey, presto I had my first foray into cable internet.

I decided to try this suggestion I had been given to use “speed dating” as a methodology to get students talking. I grabbed a sheet of paper and cut it into 8 card sized pieces, and I wrote 8 topics on them related to the study and reasons we are studying EAP English. It would work better with more students, however, since I only had 6 there today it could be a microcosm of my larger classes. I gave my seated students the topic cards, which they would choose topics from, then other students would go to them and speak.

I let them speak for 5 minutes on the nominated topic first, then I call time and one student then gets up and moves to another student, who engages them in conversation again on their chosen topic. I walked around being nosey and ensure they keep it moving. But I didnt really have to as they were very into the whole thing.

I was starting to worry a little as the college course I am teaching online in Australia had not had anything posted to it for a couple of weeks. Today I got an email from Rachel my director in Australia that my students had been posting their work to the wrong place and so she went in there and released them and got them to repost all of the missing assignments. Hmm, well I just marked my first batch tonight, and the scores are excellent of course, and I have my evenings filled for the next few nights…I thought computers were supposed to relieve us of work, not give us more???

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.03

I went into a supermarket to buy some supplies, as you do, and I grabbed some stuff. Now when I went in it was bone dry, but while I was shopping the heavens opened up with torrents of rain. So I go outside the store and I stand there looking at the rain, thinking, well, it’s a 100-meter dash to the apartment, ah, I won’t get that wet. I was about to make a run for it and clutching my full shopping bag I inched towards the rain. Suddenly this Korean guy walks into the business next door using an umbrella and he hands me his umbrella as he walks past. I turn and say hey but how can I return this, and he holds up his hands and brushes it away, as if to say mnyah, keep it, so I thanked him profusely and walked hom with an umbrella, dry. My faith in human nature somewhat bolstered by his random act of kindness.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.04

In the afternoon after work, I travel home via train then a bus and while I was at Sindorim Subway station I observed this which I walked past every day without noticing what it was. The ever-present reminder that Seoul is in the front line of an attack….gas mask dispenser in the subway.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.05

At the end of the teaching time today Mable the liaison lady came to class and she brought pizza. I, of course, availed myself of a few pieces, as is my wont, and true to form the pizzas were extra-spicy hot, as is Korea’s wont. On facebook a few weeks ago a poster was having a go at pineapple on pizza. They had said that there was no such thing as legit pineapple on pizza, and I had entered into the debate citing examples like Queensland and Hawaian pizzas. Well, now I have discovered that even the Koreans have a pineapple topping on their pizzas. So There!

Earlier in the day, I came upon this meme. and I just posted this on my page but I thought I would use it as a teaching tool a well. I wrote it on the board and asked my students to read it and the proliferation of “ough” differences bamboozled them. I then taught the differences in pronunciation.

As my previous period was starting, one of the hairdressing students came from across the hall and said they were ready for me. Well duh, I had not made a commitment, but in the interests of international relations, I acquiesced and set my students enough work to do on their own and followed the hairdressing guy into his salon. They were doing a coloring lesson so I got dyed for free…

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.06

Today we are way ahead of our schedule because my manager in Australia had planned yesterday as a holiday so I taught all today’s morning stuff yesterday and so I am stretching this afternoon’s work to the full day with students writing an essay, and then converting the essay into a PowerPoint for their presentations. I got creative with the board too. Because of the language barrier in some cases, I decided to go for a pictographic lesson plan today. I used my own revised hieroglyphics which I feel are clear enough. Just two weeks to go now and I shall be back in Brissy.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.07

I went around to my local restaurant for a meal tonight, and I checked out the menu looking for some new treat to try. Now it’s a Korean restaurant of course, but they have Vietnamese food there mainly. I chose the Bulgogi Rice meal which is just meat and rice, but another meal caught my eye while I was browsing. Look at the sandwich item in the pic with the words Bahn Mi next to it. I took out my mobile and activated the camera translator and voila. Now “Mi” is American, and “Bahn” is Anti. So, in fact, the sandwich is called Anti-American Sandwich. hmmm. But then again, maybe the anti is Italian and it means Entree American.

In any case the Bulgogi Rice was delicious.

eacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.08

We should pause here and listen to this music video.

Well, no trip to Seoul would be complete without a tour of their most recently famous locale, the neighborhood of Gangnam, which incidentally means (South Village). It’s a bit more than that now, and I decided to check it out. It was a 25 minute or so subway train ride from my place, and instantly I arrive at another world it seems.

From the moment I alight from the train and make my way up the stairs from the platform I enter a huge shopping mall going in all directions. Just monuments to pure consumerism and business, with shoppers and travelers just moving around everywhere. Mind you, we are still 50 feet below street level in the subway Mall.

While I was down in the subway, I was being prepared for the sheer hugeness of what was above by seeing all the variety of shopping there was underground. Well once I emerged into the bright sunlight outside there were people everywhere.

They were mostly young trendies, trying to do the “Gangnam Style” just all the beautiful people milling about to see and be seen, as my cousin Luisa would say. She would actually say “per vedere e farmi vedere.” As is my wont, here in Seoul I dropped into a coffee shop after steeling myself for the expected high prices such a chic place as Gangnam would have. I was quite pleasantly surprised as an Americano Coffee only cost W3300, but they don’t have bottomless here.

This is a side alley in the Gangnam district, and even here, in keeping with the vibe of the whole place, is full of young millennials with their cell phones out, and designer clothes, with the designer tears, etc.

This is one of the entrances of The Underground which is basically the subway system but it is as big as Westfields Chermside, underground, and there just happens to be a couple of train lines that run through it.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.09

When I first came to this apartment block I was impressed by what most of the surrounding buildings had on their roof. Namely, they had shrubs and trees and veggies etc. So naturally I wanted to see if my building had anything similar on the roof, so today I checked it out. I went up to the sixteenth floor, and then an extra flight of stairs and I was at the roof. I was expecting large shrubs and greenery and veggies, but no such luck. As you can see in the pics, it may have looked good at some time in the past but it all seemed a bit burnt out by the sun. Still, it is better to have something there instead of bare concrete. And they do have garden benches and paths so that one can sit and contemplate

This is the view looking at the 2nd elevator shaft. I imagine that at night it must be quite nice with the lights that would illuminate the area. I reckon there’s nothing stopping an enterprising Aussie from having a barbecue, or an American a cookout.

This is the Elementary school behind our place. It is just plonked down in the middle of the built-up area, I suppose it is Seoul, after all.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.14

There has been a new page of Korean poetry put on display, in the lobby. Aren’t we glad it is not Vogon poetry?

A GOOD GIRL COMPLEX

Reduce the flames

Think about the flames

We were caught in Russia on the way

to the boil and flowed to

Daekwallyeongdokjang.

There was no gap in the flank.

Opened, melted.

Opened and melted.

Sunburst bloomed.

When the fatigue falls down,

The sesame oil will be filled,

and you will have to sue,

And come to sue.

Until the gravy falls on the glass lid

And the dripping drops,

The cool and hot will escape

Until the gap disappears.

I have to boil again.

I can bubble my crawl out of my way.

It is the power of a bowl of boiling soup,

Which boils up the bush.

I did not boil at all.

It should be boiled and boiled

As if the boiling water is

Dripping down the glass lid

And dripping until the dripping

of the cool and the hot is not enough.

I have to listen to my own work.

I have to get tired and tangled,

Ooh ok Cha

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.15

Having booked and paid for a tour of the DMZ on Thursday I was up bright and early this morning, and I made my way to Dangsan station and Hapjeong station to the rendezvous point at Exit 8 of the latter station. Shiny, That was the Korean guide’s name, arrived on time and ushered me into the minibus and we were on our way.

When filling out my details on the registration list I noticed we had quite the tour group with people from Germany, USA, England, and other places. 45 minutes later, after we had listened to a history lecture of what happened in Korea during the last 1100 years, we arrived at the first DMZ stop. This included a look at the border fence with the barbed-wire on top and the bridge called the Freedom Bridge. I took many many photos and I am sure that you all can look at them at your leisure.

On the trip to the next stop on the tour, Shiny told us about all the infiltration tunnels that the North Koreans had tried to build, and in fact almost succeeded, if not for a defector who snitched on them, luckily. In any case, we were cajoled into having a look at the tunnel itself, and the enterprising Koreans on the Southside had turned the misadventure of their Northern brothers into a tourist attraction. We walked down a 350-meter sloping tunnel finally resting about 50 meters under the ground. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to take photos there. However, I did take a pic of the above plans outside.

It joined a kind of staging area where we were shown how the South Koreans discovered the “secret” tunnel. Now, it is not easy walking leisurely down a slope like that for so far, but we were thankful for the ceiling to the sloping tunnel that was about 2.5 meters. Not so in the main North Korean tunnel. Shiny had told us that unfortunately, this tunnel was only 2 meters high, so I was thinking, no sweat I am only 178cm, and that gives me a nice clearance. Nuh! The tunnel was about 450 meters long and we had to walk crouched over so as not to hit our heads on the jagged rock ceiling.

The national tour people had it right though as there is a sign that no one should enter the tunnels without a yellow hard-hat on. I thought that maybe there were still falling rocks in there but no. I must have whacked my noggin on the ceiling 50 or so times during that walk, and if I didn’t have the helmet on, I would have had numerous lumps when I finally surfaced. All during the trek, and that’s what it was, like a star trek because it seemed so long walking crouched like that. We kept meeting fellow tourists coming back from the end of the tunnel and we asked if, in fact, the long walk was, in fact, worth the effort. One nice lady looked at me and smiled warmly and said, “Oh yes, it is definitely worth it, you just wait and see.” Well, that was reassuring a little, so I kept on pressing for the goal, as St Paul would say until finally, I had reached the end of the North Koreans’ tunnel.

This is what is at the end of the tunnel. Well it is not technically the end, but it is as far as one can go because the South Koreans, when they discovered it blocked it of course with a concrete wall in a few places and for the sake of the visitors to the DMZ they put a 20cm x 20cm hole in the wall so we could look through beyond. At this point, we were about 100 meters from the NK Border, and I swear that as I peered through the square hole there I saw something scrawled in Hangul, on the wall. There was a painting of something that looked like a brick wall with a guy with a big nose and eyes peering over the wall and the words “Kim Jong-il was here.” That’s Kim (bad haircut) Jong un’s dad.

Getting back was quicker because we didn’t have to stop every ten meters to allow people to walk the other way past us. The climb back up the sloping tunnel was another thing entirely. Dang, it was such a long walk it seemed. The Korean entrepreneurs, however, had foreseen such eventualities and they had affixed benched to the walls every 100 meters or so, and after a 200-meter push, I sat for a minute or so to catch the breath, as it were.

The next stop was a Ginseng manufacturer who gave us a tour and a talk on the processing and we all watched with interest. I was the only one in the group who had experienced Ginseng in any way and I have been taking 4 tabs a day since I arrived in Korea. I subsequently bought a jar of Ginseng jelly, as my tabs will run out shortly. Shiny dropped us off at the City Hall station and I made my way back to the apartment, plumb tuckered out after a good day out.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.19

The next few days went as planned to prep for the exams, with a little hiccough. Two students fluffed their finals and they had to resit them. Prior to said resit I did some hasty tutoring and prep work, and I am happy to report that both of them came through with flying colors. Hence, the entire course passed. After we finished sitting the finals, to pamper myself, I agreed to free treatment from the hairdressing students across the hall. It was a wash and a combing something through the hair to give it more body or something. I think that in the end, it amounts to a “Korean Comb-over” so to speak. I am just thankful they didn’t give me a Kim Jong-un hairstyle

THe Hairdressing instructor insisted on taking a photo of her student’s work.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.20

It has been my experience in Australia and America, that to get students to clean a classroom, is like pulling teeth. One hears nothing but grumbling and moaning as if they are the ones paying the janitor’s salary. I’m not casting aspersions on the students of my countries of USA and Australia but. It is the day after the successful final exams and, look at this, without being asked the students have organized themselves and are cleaning the classroom that has been our constant home for the past 3 months. Pretty cool eh…

Regular readers of this blog may remember last week when I posted that Green Tea Ice Cream bar, and I asked, What next? Well, now I have the answer. One of my students came back from lunch and treated us with Green Tea Kit Kats.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.21

We had a celebratory lunch as is the done thing in Korea. Then we went back to the college where after a brief presentation from TAFE QLD representative in Korea, I got to hand out their EAP certificates. I was somewhat miffed that they wouldn’t let me hum the Graduation March music though.

We were at a self-service buffet and I ate a plate then dessert and I was finished, and ready to go back to college. The students just kept filling and refilling their plates with lashings of food, so is the culture student that I am I inquired. I asked students why Koreans seem to have very large lunches and they all informed me that culturally it is their main meal of the day.

Back at the college, the TAFE QLD representative in Seoul gave the students a PowerPoint presentation before the ceremony of graduation.

And of course, after I handed out all their certificates we all had to pose for a class photo. This was a very good class, that has learned much in the short 10 weeks of teaching. When they began only one was familiar with Academic English and most of them were anything but fluent. I can happily add that they are all fluent now.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.24

I was inadvertently booked a cab too late for my flight and I arrived at the airport 15 minutes after they had left. I asked them to reissue the ticket for another flight and they said the next one to Hong Kong was in an hour and I would have to pay $400 to the airline to do it. Hmm, I thought. No one else has ever charged that much to reissue a missed flight? She told me that I should call my travel agent and they can reissue it free. So I emailed Australia and asked the agent to reissue and I waited a few hours till I got an email with my new ticket.

I figured that I would just hang out at the airport all night and just be sore the next day for the flight, but the liaison lady from college insisted I stay at a motel and she found a room nearby the airport and a shuttle bus to boot. I don’t think the airport people like travelers to sleep at the airport as the seats don’t look so comfortable. Most airports I have slept in have soft comfortable seats, but not at Incheon. They are wooden, probably to dissuade sleepers. It doesn’t work tho because I saw many folks just laid out on 3 adjacent seats napping away.

Teacher’s Log: Star-Date: 201809.25

I Boarded the flight from there without incident and a few minutes later I was flying to Hong Kong.

Luckily the college paid for the hotel or else I would have braved the airport all night. All went well and I came back in the morning, retrieved my luggage from the lockers, and proceed to go through the process. By 7.30am I at the Incheon gate 49 and ready to board. It was a long walk to get there too. Why do I always get the furthest gate? Thank God for travelators.

We exited the plane at gate 61 and were directed to go on a compass march to the Brisbane flight.

Gate 34, I think we are about half way there…

Never look back as it looks close the way the crow flies, but this is an airport. That was our plane, that we had left.

Thank God for Travelators eh?

Finally, we reached Gate 16 to Brissy.

Ensconced in the seat and ready.

I thought I’d try my hand at digital battleships, alas, the screen froze as I started it. The onboard computer was probably afraid of my prowess.

All good things must come to an end, as I am now back in my patriotic home in Brisbane.

Up Above From Down Under

Posted on November 16, 2012 by Enzolinguist

Up Above From Down Under.

This is a collection of memories and experiences from throughout the life and work of an Australian teacher who came to the USA and ended up staying. Beginning with early anecdotes from his experiences of arrival in Australia from Italy to beginning teaching in America, the author takes the reader through some comical and educational experiences.

1 Early Years

Posted on May 13, 2012 by Enzolinguist

1 Early Years.

New Word of the Day

Posted on May 8, 2012 by Enzolinguist

THE NEOLOGIST STRIKES AGAIN! This is an announcement to all the linguists out there: I am coining a new word, I chanced upon it when I made a typo as I was writing something. The new word is:
YOLD and it is the past tense of YELL, just like
TOLD is the past tense of TELL

Sentence:

He was pleased with himself after he had yold the news all over the village as he had been told to do.

Saved In Iraq

Posted on April 22, 2012 by Enzolinguist

SAVED IN IRAQ

Enzo Silvestri

Daniel Mann sat wrapped in his thoughts, contemplating his life thus far. What had happened to his nice life back in St Pauls, North Carolina, how did he end up here? He was reasonably popular in High School, and his grades were fairly keen as well. He joined the 82^ndatFortBragg, in Fayetteville, as soon as he was able to after school. The Army taught him many things that he would be using throughout life, and as a bonus he would qualify for college tuition assistance after he returned from Iraq. He remembered his last week at home before he deployed to the war zone. His mom fed him his favorite food every evening, and all the town of St Pauls wished him well and gave him going away gifts.

The Life Center in McLean St, the Church he’d grown up in gave him so much strength and hope. He remembered the Children’s Church each Sunday, and how he and his best friends would leave the service when Pastor Ray ushered them out to their respective classes. Those were great times he remembered, and then the Youth Group, and Mr. and Mrs. Ivey, yes they sure had some fun and holy times together, singing, and praying and performing skits. And then there was Tegan. She was wonderful, and a year younger than Daniel. He used to tease and poke fun at her in Children’s Church, and they were always arguing about something or other. But then overnight everything seemed to change and he could feel an attraction between them as they sat in the Youth meetings, pretending not to look at each other.

“American!” his Arab captor sneered, “get up!” Daniel stood and eyed the men who had just walked into his makeshift prison cell. Mohammed, his guard showed in another man also dressed in military fatigues.

“Stand to attention for the Sheik, you Infidel pig!” yelled Mohammed as he punctuated his order with a punch to Daniel’s kidney region. Daniel straightened up slightly but he couldn’t do much as he had already been severely beaten during torture sessions since his capture. The Sheik motioned for the guard to stand back out of the way and with a handful of papers he walked right in front of Daniel. He spoke with an educated American accent as he held up the papers.

“Sergeant Daniel Mann,” the sheik said calmly, “82^nd Airborne, isn’t it?”

Daniel droned out for what seemed like the hundredth time, “Mann, Daniel, Sergeant, 53624739.”

“Ah, yes, your name, rank and serial number, just like in the movies. But you will see that today it will not work. Turnabout is fair so I am Sheik Ahmed bin Masawi, warrior of Allah.” He walked in front of Daniel and eye-balled him silently, then he started again philosophically.

“You know warfare today is as much conducted in the minds of people as on the battlefield, especially the gullible readers of the western newspapers. You accuse us of muzzling the press, but your press shapes your knowledge, more than you think. I know that you would rather be on your nice peaceful little farm in North Carolina, maybe drinking a beer, having a cookout?”

“I don’t drink.” Muttered Daniel.

“I see, well no matter, I just have this document that I want you to read, and then sign.” He handed it to Daniel who poured over it silently. When he had finished reading it he turned back to Sheik Masawi, “So, you want me to rat out all my buddies and the US Government?”

“Yes, I want you to admit the truth, I know you Americans are afraid of the truth! Islam is the truth and the way.”

“You’re just using Christian words.”

“I am a Muslim! I do not need your infidel words!”

“Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life, Daniel insisted barely audibly, “He said that 600 years before Islam even existed.”

“Ahh yes Jesus, was a prophet of Islam too, but the Bible is so distorted, but you know even your Jesus, promised that another, the Paraclete was coming, that he was not fit to tie the shoe straps of, Mohammed. Jesus prophesied the coming of Mohammed!” Masawi calmly stated as if the information would shock his Christian prisoner. Daniel steeled himself and faced the Sheik again.

“Actually, the only distortion here is your own, Jesus didn’t say that at all, in fact that was John the Baptizer talking about Jesus, and the Paraclete that Jesus talked about, he is the Holy Spirit, who came 50 days later on Pentecost so you…” His words were cut off by a sharp blow in the face by Ahmed Masawi.

“Shut your filthy mouth American dog!” and he picked up the papers from where Daniel had dropped them. “You will sign these papers, or you will experience some of your own Guantanamo methods until you beg for mercy, and there won’t be any bleeding hearts here to help you.”

The guard motioned to Mohammed and another man to bring Daniel into another room which was separated from the rest of the cell complex of the prison. As he was escorted and dragged by the two men past the cells of the other soldiers, Masawi who was walking ahead of them kept reassuring with his soft voice that the pain would cease as soon as Daniel signed the confessions. Daniel had a look around the room taking in all the elaborate equipment that adorned the walls and alcoves in the room.

“Impressive, isn’t it Sergeant Mann, I am a student of Archaeology you know, these shall we say, fine instruments of persuasion were discovered by the Antiquities Department. Relics they are of the Crusader occupation in the eleventh century, and they are in remarkably good condition, don’t you think?” Daniel remained mute before his captor.

“You know,” Masawi continued, “they don’t care about you. Your precious Government sent you in here and now they are barely keeping their own jobs in the face of their own opposition in Washington. They’ll end up pulling you all out and America will lose another one. We will always be here.” Daniel looked at him as he paced up and down, “now, what was the document you destroyed when you were captured?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Daniel feigned ignorance.

“Come on Sergeant, we saw you throwing something into the fire just before you were captured, what was it? What is your primary mission purpose in Mosul?” He shouted at Daniel who just looked back at him with silent eyes, then he spoke softly again.

“I am sure that you have spent enough time in my country, probably at Harvard or Yale or Stanford to know that I wouldn’t be telling you anything, if in fact there was anything to tell.” Ahmed ignored what Daniel had said and continued with his questioning.

“This radio,” he held the small device, was in your pack, who are you meeting, what was your objective, where is your partner?”

“I work alone, sort of like Dirty Harry, you know?” Ahmed’s hand slapped him hard across the face, then he turned to his subordinates, “Put him into the apparatus.” And he pointed to an upright torture machine. As they came towards him Daniel raised his arms and asked, “Please a moment,” and he fell to his knees praying silently. The guards were about to grab him anyway when Masawi stopped them and allowed Daniel to pray.

When he’d finished he stood and willingly offered himself to his captors. They took him to an upright pillar which was the support column in the corner of the chamber. Driven into the top of it were iron staples for supporting heavy weights. They put his wrists into iron gauntlets and made him step onto a box about two feet high. His arms were then lifted up and an iron bar was passed through the rings of one gauntlet, then through the staple and rings of the second gauntlet. This done they fastened the bar with a pin to prevent it slipping, and then, removing the box from under his feet, they left him hanging by his hands and arms fastened above his head. Hanging like this Daniel began to pray aloud and Masawi slapped him again, and asked him whether he was willing to talk now.

Daniel answered through gritted teeth, he could hardly utter the words, such was the gripping pain which came over him.

“I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of…” he was cut short again by a slap to the face from Mohammed. The pain was worst in his chest and belly, his hands and arms. All the blood in his body seemed to rush up into his arms and hands and he felt as if blood was oozing out from the ends of his fingers and the pores of his skin. But it was only a sensation caused by his flesh swelling above the irons holding them. The pain was so excruciating that he thought he could not possibly endure it. Yet he didn’t feel any inclination to give them the information they desired. His Lord saw his weakness in the eyes of His mercy and didn’t permit him to be tortured beyond his strength.

The pain seemed to numb his senses and he drifted back to his insertion point with his squad. He jumped first, and had come down into a thickly wooded field, where his canopy was snagged in a tree. He’d released his harness and dropped the thirty or so feet to the ground with no trouble and he knew to keep radio silence. He had headed for the rendezvous point but he was careless, and he stumbled into the path of the insurgent militia. He thought of just taking cover and getting into a firefight with them but then his buddies would join in and blow their objective, so with a half a dozen AKs pointed at him he’d silently just raised his arms to fight another day. He was brought back to the present by a bucket of water splashed in his face, and he was thankful for some moisture at least.

His captors continued questioning him and inflicting pain with the pillar device. The questions were the same as always, the same ones that Daniel had refused to answer but they just kept on and on at him, expecting to wear him down eventually. They took turns twisting Daniels body so that the irons on his hands and wrists would dig in and lacerate his arms, leaving great welts. Daniel was thankful for he did lose consciousness a few times and this brought some relief as he couldn’t feel the pain. However, as soon as Mohammed and his partner saw that Daniel was unconscious they would rouse him again only to redouble their efforts.

Daniel’s thoughts went back to The Life Center, to Pastor Ray giving a sermon. He could picture the Pastor lying on the floor during his sermon to illustrate a point and he smiled outwardly. He thought of Tegan and feelings of warmth came over him and he smiled again. The commander strode back into the torture cell as the prisoner was being woken from his faint once again. Ahmed was angered that the American would smile at being tortured.

“Sergeant do you think this is amusing, let me assure you I am deadly serious, I know you had partners and you will eventually reveal the target.” Daniel shook his head once again as Masawi could see the pain that was shooting up his body, it won’t be long he thought.

“Where is your Jesus now?” Masawi taunted Daniel.

“In fact,” Daniel grimaced his words, “when I was praying just now he spoke to me and he sent me relief. He sees my agony and the struggle going on in my body and mind, he gave me this most merciful thought: ‘the utmost and worst they can do to you is to kill you, and you have often wanted to give your life for your Lord God. You are in God’s keeping’.”

“What do you know of God you infidel?” Ahmed spat out at him

“Why do you call me Infidel, this word means ‘one who has no faith’, I have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.”

When those present saw that Daniel was not about to answer their questions they left the chamber and returned to their headquarters above ground and left Daniel hanging in the same position.

“We’ll see how resolute he feels after a few hours.” They laughed derisively as they walked up the stone stairs leading from the chamber. One man remained down in the cells to guard him although he hardly needed guarding as he was fully immobilized by the device. He stayed Daniel thought, out of kindness maybe, every few minutes he took a cloth and wiped the perspiration that ran in drops continuously down Daniel’s face and body. That helped a little, but he added to his sufferings when he started to talk. He went on and on begging and imploring me to pity myself and tell his master what he wanted to know. “What would it matter,” he said, “your Air Force will blow this whole complex up soon so no one will know.” Daniel understood now why the guard had stayed behind, saw through the ruse that Ahmed had left him to try and trick him.

Three hours passed after which Sheik Masawi returned to the chamber.

“Has the prisoner come to his senses yet?” he asked the guard loudly enough for Daniel to hear clearly. The sheik addressed Daniel directly, enough of this playing there are many other torture methods, thanks to your forebears, in this chamber, you will give me the information I require if it kills you.”

“Oh give me a break Ahmed, for heaven’s sake. Do you think I am going to throw my soul away to save my life? If you do, then you have learned nothing of Americans in your years at our Ivy League schools.” Ahmed looked at him with seething anger at first, then as he regarded Daniels battered form dangling from the device he resigned himself and with a grunt and stormed out of the cell once again.

Shortly thereafter he fell into unconsciousness at the pillar. For how long he didn’t know because when he was awoken by his guards it didn’t seem like that much time had passed. Two guards held his body up and another placed the box under his feet again and Daniel felt the blood start circulating and he came to again. As soon as he was aware he started praying aloud, and hearing this, the guards would pull the box out from under his feet. They did this to him eight or nine times a day every time he lost consciousness they would ease his pain and bring him back, then he would pray and they would let him down again.

After what seemed like days of this treatment Masawi returned. Coming to him and standing staring into his face he asked, “Are you ready now to submit to the will of Allah and his Servants?”

“You want me to do what is sinful. “ Daniel replied calmly, “I will not do it.”

“All you have to do is sign this document admitting your illegal mission, and you will be free to go.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” Daniel said resolutely, “other than what I have already told you, Mann, Daniel, Sergeant, 53624739.”

In a rage sheik Masawi turned his back and strode out of the cell animatedly shouting angrily in a loud voice, “Fine, then hang there until you rot off the pillar.” Daniel prayed silently that he would have the strength to endure what was going to be a long time hanging from the pillar. His arms had become numb by this stage and his fingers were feeling like they should fall off soon. Two guards came to the chamber after an hour and took him down from the pillar, and Daniel silently thanked the Lord for the relief. The guards took him back to his cell and he was thankful to be able to lie down and rest a while. He quickly drifted off into a sleep that filled his mind with images of home and family.

The dull throbbing ache where his hands had been secured to the pillar had subsided somewhat, but when the guards came and roused him after just six hours, the handcuffs were forced back on his lacerated wrists. This made them even more painful than normal because they had swollen. Once he was back in the torture chamber and secured to the pillar once again, the sheik motioned the other guards to leave. They had not removed the box from under Daniels feet so his weight was not supported by his arms and shoulders. Sheik Ahmed Masawi stood in front of the tied up Daniel and spoke calmly.

“Sergeant Mann, I am as you mentioned before an educated man, and you were correct, I was educated at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. That’s just up the road a bit from your place I imagine.”

“Yeah so,” Daniel replied slowly, wondering what new tactic he was employing.

Don’t be so suspicious Daniel, I am a Muslim yes, but I was invited to Christian services also when I lived in The Bible Belt.” Daniel perked up when Masawi said this, “And did you go along to the Churches?”

“Yes but I found it very uninspiring, the people just sat or stood and sang a few songs, and then the Imam, I mean Priest, or whatever, gave a sermon about Eternal Life and Salvation.”

“And,” rejoined Daniel, “How was it, did he teach you something about Christianity?”

“Hah yeh!” Ahmed spat out, “The Imams are right, Christian beliefs and the Bible are full of contradictions.

“Ok, can you name just one, or are you just repeating your Imam’s words?” Daniel asked, but ?Ahmed was stuck for words and couldn’t think of a specific instance. “Well, I can’t name one off-hand, but there are many of them.”

“How do you know that, did your Imam tell you?” Daniel pushed him.

“Nevertheless Sergeant, what he says is true.” He asserted.

Daniel began again softly, “Ahmed you are an educated man, how can you believe a man who promises carnal rewards in the after-life? Surely an omniscient God can do better than ‘sex with virgins’ forever. How can you champion the causes of a Religion that teaches its children to look forward to blowing themselves up, to equating Jews to the spawn of monkeys? That is the kind of garbage they believed in the Dark Ages, how can you, a university educated man actually accept that some humans are born of monkeys, now that’s just dumb!”

Ahmed raised his hand to strike Daniel but he held off and lowered his hand again, as he remembered his cousin Fatima. She had made friends with a Jewish boy inBaghdad’s Jewish quarter, of Taht al-Takia. She was told in no uncertain terms to never see him again. She of course disobeyed her father’s instructions and when they were caught together the Jew was murdered on the spot. His uncle then called a meeting with all the family and explained what had happened and then he took his daughter and put her in the car with a suitcase and drove off with her. She was not seen again by any of them and her mother said she’d gone to live with relatives in Lebanon. Ahmed was old enough then to realize that they had no people in Lebanon.

“This was the way of Islam,” he’d said, “she brought disrespect on the family, she deserved her fate.” But he reasoned, if we ask God to forgive us, then why don’t we forgive each other.

“Christian,” he began again, rousing Daniel whose head had slumped, “tell me, why do you follow a prophet of God who was killed by the Jews?”

“Because that’s why he came, he offered himself as the eternal sacrifice in our place.” Daniel replied, inwardly praying that his words not return empty.

“Our prophet Mohammed was victorious, he conquered peoples and then he ascended to heaven from Jerusalem, how can a dead prophet compare?”

“Yes, it seems ridiculous,” agreed Daniel, “God has made Salvation simple, to confound the wise. We must understand it from God’s point of view.”

“You are not making sense now Christian.”

“Ok Ahmed, suppose someone sinned against you, what would you need to forgive them?”

“Ahh Christian, you are a debater I see, well, I suppose I would need for them to ask for my forgiveness and really mean it.”

“Ís that all?” Daniel probed.

“I can see where you are going with this Christian, but of course I would need restitution of the wrong doing.”

“Exactly, so when you sin against Allah, how do you get forgiveness?”

“So now you wish to have a theological discussion, I must remind you I am a Sheik after all. But to answer your question, in Islam when one sins against Allah, one needs to confess the sin and promise not to do it again, and endeavor to lead a sinless life, and Allah accepts him.”

“But then Sheik Masawi, what about Allah’s restitution, how is he going to get recompense?” Daniel countered.

“Oh Allah is not like men, Allah is merciful, he forgives whom he will.”

“But if you sinned against Allah, surely you have to die, because Allah cannot dwell with sin, can he?” Daniel felt that he was starting to make his point.

“Yes, but Allah is merciful, Allah can forgive the contrite heart.” Sheik Masawi’s voice seemed a bit unsure of the doctrine that had been hammered into him for years.

In the old days the Jewish Priests, the Kohanim had to sacrifice animals to obtain forgiveness of the sins of the nation. Now they had to do that daily, and then once a year the Priest went in to the Holy of Holies into the presence of God to deliver the sacrifice,”

“Yes yes, I know all this; we also study your Bible even though Christians and Jews have corrupted it.” Ahmed hurried him along.

“Not at all Ahmed, but how can an animal-sacrifice pay for a man’s sin, surely a man’s transgression requires a man to pay?”

“Hah Christian, by that logic then everyone would have to be killed, no one will survive.”

“Yes, the scripture in Roman’s says, ‘for all have sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God, and again ‘for the wages of sin is death’.”

“But Jesus was teaching the people good things and they killed him.”

“Yes, but he was resurrected by his father, God, and he now sits at God’s right hand forever interceding for us. Now whenever the Satan, the great accuser tries to accuse us before God, Jesus is there and intercedes for us. When God sees the blood of Jesus he does not see the sin anymore, because with the blood there is forgiveness.”

“So you’re saying that one just needs to accept that some Jew who died 2,000 years ago did it for me, and that makes me a Christian?”

“In a nutshell yes, that’s right.” Daniel asserted, thanking god as he opened the heart of his Arab captor. Ahmed considered Daniel’s words for what seemed like hours as time seemed to stand still.

“Bah, you are crazy Christian,” he blurted out, “it is impossible that Salvation could be so cheap and easy.”

“I didn’t say anything about cheap and easy, I said it’s free, but it’s not cheap, it could well cost you your life.” Ahmed’s eyes perked up when Daniel mentioned this.

“Are you afraid of Death Sergeant Mann?”

“No, Jesus has removed death’s sting, no one needs to be afraid anymore.” Daniel paraphrased a Scripture as he continued in the Holy Spirit’s inspiration.

“But how can you be so sure that your good deeds will outweigh your bad? Islam teaches us that at the judgment our good and bad deeds will be weighed and if we have more good than bad…” Ahmed explained, using the measure that Islam used for entry toParadise.

“Ahmed it is also written that all men’s righteousness is as filthy rags before God, so nothing we can do will work in our favor. It is by His Righteousness and Jesus’ Blood that we are accepted into Paradise, not good deeds.” As Daniel spoke Ahmed could sense something tugging at his heart. He had never heard Christianity explained like this before, it was as if God was calling to him specifically. He shook himself out of his reasoning, how; he reasoned could he turn his back on a lifetime of Islamic study? All his family was Muslims, and he himself had killed dozens of Christians in the name of Allah, for the causes of Islam. Indeed, he thought, becoming a Christian might be free, but the American was right in saying it was not cheap.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sounds of explosions and automatic weapon fire. Mohammed came running into the cell and threw an AK-47 at Ahmed and then went charging out again.

“Kill the infidel Ahmed!” shouted Mohammed as he ran up the stairs firing as he went. Sheik Masawi turned to his prisoner and leveled the AK at his head.

“So Daniel, you are not afraid to die, would you like me to send you to meet your Jesus?” he said as Daniel stood wordlessly before him. He raised the AK slightly and depressed the trigger and the tell tale sputter of the weapon firing as Daniel fell to the floor. “No,” he said again, “I have to live in this world, so you should have to as well.” He said as he ran up the stone stairs to join his comrades.

The old Prison complex was stormed by US Army troops of the 82^nd Airborne. It was Daniel’s squad that had tracked the beacon in his radio and were attempting a rescue now that their objective was secured. Grenades exploded simultaneously at the entrance to the building, and in the ensuing mayhem the Americans stormed the building making short work of the defenders.

“Danny, Danny, are you down here?” yelled Mike, his old schoolmate from St Pauls High. Three men went rushing down the stone stairs with Mike and they saw his crumpled form at the foot of the pillar. Thinking the worst they cursed loudly, unable to bear the loss of their buddy.

“Hey what would Mrs Ivey say if she heard y’all cussing like that?”

“They spun around to look at Daniel who had raised himself up slightly.” They rushed to him and lifted him to his feet and helped him out of the room.

“Hey men we thought you was dead there for a while.” Said Mike in his Robeson County drawl. Daniel smiled and looked at him, “Yeah, so did I at one point, but Ahmed just shot the chains that held me to the pillar.

“Well how about that?” mused Randy, one of their squad. They helped Daniel up the stairs and outside. On his way out he saw the prone body of Ahmed where he’d fallen just inside the entrance of the main building. He regarded him silently, saying a small prayer, asking God to have mercy on his soul.

His buddies huddled around Daniel tending to his wounds and giving him some food and water, when a terrorist who had hidden in one of the nearby buildings ran out brandishing a sputtering AK-47 and screaming “Allah Akhbar!” The squad immediately spun around and hit the ground, ready to return fire but a single pistol shot silenced the AK before they could get a shot off. Daniel turned and saw Ahmed holding a pistol as he smiled at Daniel and fell face down in the dirt. Daniel went to him and helped him to sit up and gave him some water.

“I guess I owe you one now eh Sheik Masawi.” Daniel tried to make light of the situation, but Ahmed shook his head.

“No brother, I am going to meet Jesus, in fact I can see him now waiting for me, and I have you to thank, may God Bless you Daniel!

“The Lord Bless you Ahmed, and keep you.” Daniel replied as Ahmed’s eyes closed peacefully.

THE END

Fairvale High – Part II

Posted on April 20, 2012 by Enzolinguist

Fairvale High

Enzo Silvestri

Part II

Yvonne instructed them to open their texts to the Epic of Gilgamesh story, and before they started reading she wanted to teach them a little about the background. “Epic means a story, a story about heroism, about heroic deeds, and Gilgamesh was a king in Uruk which was in modern day Iraq and this epic tells the story of Gilgamesh who, when his friend Enkidu dies is so afraid of death that he embarks on a quest for eternal life. Included in this account is a story of a great flood.

“That was Noah, not Gilgamesh, my preacher would whoop me if he knew you was teaching us about Gilgamesh.” Billy interrupted, bringing sounds of agreement from other students. “Actually,” Mrs. Forester continued, “some scholars claim that this is where Moses got the idea of Noah’s flood from, but others say that Gilgamesh copied the details from Noah’s flood, and changed the characters. We can work out though that the Bible story is dated before the Gilgamesh one, so who copied who? When reading Literature we need to decide for ourselves what we’re to believe, to judge it by its merits.” The class settled down to reading the text while Mrs. Forester went from desk to desk assisting students, and explaining some parts in more detail.

The following week Yvonne went to the Library during her planning period and she met the English III teacher who was in there with her class as well. They were doing some research and she was flipping through a magazine. Yvonne had some questions she wanted to ask about the English faculty so she introduced herself.

“Hello I’m Yvonne Forester, the English II teacher, are you teaching an English III class?”

“Oh hi, I’m Karen Hamilton, yes this is an English III class, we’re doing research for their practice Senior Project this year.”

“That would be so nice to have,” Yvonne sighed, “but anyway, is there a faculty meeting ever, I mean in my last schools we got together every month or so to talk about stuff in English.”

“Nah, everyone here pretty much goes their own way, well, Judy is the English Chair, but like she’s only out of College for three years, so we figure why make more work for ourselves, they don’t pay us enough.” Karen laughed. “Yvonne was nodding her head uncertainly, “Yes I guess so.” She murmured.

“But speaking of meetings,” remembered Karen, “a bunch of us teachers, meet about every other Friday at the Black Swamp Grille. You know, it’s onthird street, up at Pemberton. You can join us there as a sort of faculty meeting, only you’re not allowed to talk about school.” She laughed. Yvonne laughed also as she thought back to how she and her colleagues inPalm BeachCountyused to have a similar meeting place. She figured though that kids down in Florida had some more opportunities than up here so she thought that she’d have to improve the odds for them if she could. The rest of the week went well with her fourth period students now beginning to get with the program and actually let her teach them something about English Language Arts. Over the next few weeks she taught explicit classes on sentence construction and paragraphing, linking sentences and Introductions and conclusions, all geared towards the state writing test. “A good way to think about essays is that a paragraph is a microcosm of that essay. What’s a microcosm you ask, does anyone know? Well a microcosm is like a small plan or layout of something which is much larger, but still is of the same structure.” Her students were starting to mutter at this explanation so she decided to clarify. “By that I mean that the paragraph is structured, or made op of the same elements as an essay. Let’s see, how does an essay start? Hands please.” A few of the quieter students raised their hands, and Mrs. Forester called on one, “Natalie, yes?”

“The introduction of course.”

“Excellent yes, that’s correct the introduction, now what can the introduction in an essay be likened to in a paragraph?”

“The first sentence?”Alicesaid softly, a little uncertainly.

“Exactly, thank youAlice, although we don’t call it the first sentence, what do we call it?”

“The topic sentence.” Jackie stated vehemently.

“very good, very good, thank you Jackie, it’s nice to see that our exercises have left a lasting impression.” Yvonne went on to explain how essays can be written on her expanding principle. Each paragraph being a miniature of the whole essay and dealing with a separate topic all related to the central topic of the essay. Over the next few weeks of practice essays her fourth period class went from regular scores of 1, and 2 in the practice tests to regular 3s and some 4s. Dr. Benson regularly popped in to Yvonne’s class room to see how things were going, as the rating for her school rested on the shoulders of her Sophomores. She was pleased with the progress that Mrs. Forester was able to achieve with her students.

Mike Forester, Yvonne’s husband, was also an English teacher but he had specialized in Australian Literature and secured a position at the local university lecturing Freshman Composition three days a week. Yvonne arranged for Mike to come to her classes on one of his off days and do lessons on Australian Ballads. She had told him of the gang culture around the school so since Mike liked to perform with his university classes, he had some ideas of his own on how to fire up the students’ imagination, when it came to ballads. His wife had three periods a day, with planning period at second block. The first went fairly easily with the Honors class and he performed the ballads as they are supposed to be performed with thick Aussie accents and idioms, and the second also a high achieving regular class.

When he came in to fourth period word had already gotten around the school of his presence. Yvonne introduced Mike to the class, and explained that he taught at the university, but that he’d volunteered to come in to school for a day. He gave a short history of ballad writing in colonialAustralia, then instead of launching into his favorite ballad in the usual way, he performed “The Man From Ironbark” in a ‘Rap’ fashion.

THE MAN FROM IRONBARK by A.B. “Banjo”Paterson

It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,
He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down.
He loitered here, he loitered there, till he was like to drop,
Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop.
"'Ere! shave my beard and whiskers off, I'll be a man of mark,
I'll go and do the Sydney toff up home in Ironbark."

The barber man was small and flash, as barbers mostly are,
He wore a strike-your-fancy sash, he smoked a huge cigar;
He was a humorist of note and keen at repartee,
He laid the odds and kept a "tote", whatever that may be,
And when he saw our friend arrive, he whispered, "Here's a lark!
Just watch me catch him all alive, this man from Ironbark."

There were some gilded youths that sat along the barber's wall.
Their eyes were dull, their heads were flat, they had no brains at all;
To them the barber passed the wink, his dexter eyelid shut,
"I'll make this bloomin' yokel think his bloomin' throat is cut."
And as he soaped and rubbed it in he made a rude remark:
"I s'pose the flats is pretty green up there in Ironbark."

A grunt was all reply he got; he shaved the bushman's chin, 
Then made the water boiling hot and dipped the razor in. 
He raised his hand, his brow grew black, he paused awhile to gloat, 
Then slashed the red-hot razor-back across his victim's throat: 
Upon the newly-shaven skin it made a livid mark - 
No doubt it fairly took him in - the man from Ironbark.

He fetched a wild up-country yell might wake the dead to hear, 
And though his throat, he knew full well, was cut from ear to ear, 
He struggled gamely to his feet, and faced the murd'rous foe: 
"You've done for me! you dog, I'm beat! one hit before I go! 
I only wish I had a knife, you blessed murdering shark! 
But you'll remember all your life the man from Ironbark."

He lifted up his hairy paw, with one tremendous clout 
He landed on the barber's jaw, and knocked the barber out. 
He set to work with nail and tooth, he made the place a wreck; 
He grabbed the nearest gilded youth, and tried to break his neck. 
And all the while his throat he held to save his vital spark, 
And "Murder! Bloody murder!" yelled the man from Ironbark.

A peeler man who heard the din came in to see the show; 
He tried to run the bushman in, but he refused to go. 
And when at last the barber spoke, and said "'Twas all in fun— 
'Twas just a little harmless joke, a trifle overdone." 
"A joke!" he cried, "By George, that's fine; a lively sort of lark; 
I'd like to catch that murdering swine some night in Ironbark."

And now while round the shearing floor the list'ning shearers gape, 
He tells the story o'er and o'er, and brags of his escape. 
"Them barber chaps what keeps a tote, By George, I've had enough, 
One tried to cut my bloomin' throat, but thank the Lord it's tough." 
And whether he's believed or no, there's one thing to remark, 
That flowing beards are all the go way up in Ironbark.

The Bulletin, 17 December 1892.

His students loved the ballad, and got right into it by clapping time with the rhythm. Mike went on to explain the workings of rhyme and rhythm in balladry, explaining also that when students were rapping they were doing their own form of balladry, just that rapping was a modern name for it, and that they employed some of the same poetic devices that the classic poets had.

“How you mean,” Antwan felt he had to object here, “are you sayin’ that them rapper dogs think about all that shit when they rappin?” Mike smiled as he had expected an objection like this, so he said, “Ok, Antwan is it,” Yvonne had described the more outspoken students, “can you give me a couple of lines of your favorite rap performer?”

“Thieves In The Night” by Blackstar

Give me the fortune, keep the fame,” said my man Louis
I agreed, know what he mean because we live the truest lie
I asked him why we follow the law of the bluest eye
He looked at me, he thought about it
Was like, “I’m clueless, why?”
The question was rhetorical, the answer is horrible

Mike wrote them on the board as Antwan recited them. “Ok that will do, that’s enough to show you what I mean, now, in just these few lines I can see many poetic devices.” “Is rhyming a device?” asked Jasmine.

“Yes certainly, and here you have end rhyme, and interior rhyme, and the scheme changes from ABBA to CC in the same line. Mrs. Forester has taught this, where does he use an Oxymoron?”

Jackie was the first to get it, “In ‘truest lie’.”

“Yes, that’s great, and what is the imagery evoked in ‘bluest eye’?”

“He talkin’ about how white people make the laws.” Antwan wanted to get a word in since it was his favorite Hip Hop performer.

“Hey Mr F, you sound like you know a bit about hip hop, how long you been listenin’ Dog?” Mike smiled at Antwan when he asked this and he just held his hands plam upwards, “Actually Antwan, I have never heard that song before, and the reason that I could deconstruct it with you was that every piece of text or media follows some sort of rules and once we know them we can decipher them.”

“Hey y’all pretty cool dog.” Antwan respected the man who showed that he understood his art form even better than he did himself. Mike once again addressed the whole class, “Ok now you have all seen how these devices can be employed to say what you want to say. I am going to give you a task now, and Mrs. Forester will be grading it for you. I have here some templates that will help you get started writing your own ballads, each day, and Mrs. Forester will give you another sheet when you finish each one until you have a five stanza ballad. It can be about anything, but there has to be a conflict. Mike finished the lesson and after chatting with a few of the students, he and Yvonne drove home, discussing how the day had gone.

“I thought that went pretty well eh?” Mike began.

“Yes, and I was surprised at how quickly you were able to get Antwan to come around, how did you come up with that hip hop stuff anyway?”

“Remember, I have kind of been around a few times, you use what they know so that you can reach them.” He smiled.

Over the next two weeks Yvonne taught her classes intensive essay test skills, such as introductions, paragraphing, and conclusions, and she insisted on having only one topic dealt with in each paragraph,

“Don’t limit yourself to the five paragraph essay, I know that is the ideal length we talk about, but understand that it is just an example, if you have more points to make don’t just write them into an existing paragraph, add a new paragraph. Now, I know you are sick to death of practice essay tests,” she smiled as her students groaned, “but practice makes perfect, and the school is counting on you guys to improve our scores. Tomorrow there will be a school-wide sophomore writing test in first block. I have been bragging on you guys, don’t let me down now.” She smiled warmly.

In the teacher’s lounge the following day she just sat there drinking a coffee, listening to some of the other teachers complaining about their students.

“Can you believe it,” Jo Williams a math teacher was saying, “Tameka Johnson, she’s one o’ yours Ms Forester, comes in five minutes after we started the writing test, and doesn’t even notice that everyone else is writing. She just sits down, pulls out her make-up kit and starts doing her nails.” The teachers all laughed along with Jo, “So what did you do?” Stuart Canady of the Science department asked her.

“Well I sat there looking at her, and she was so wrapped up in her own little world that she ain’t seeing nothing, so then I get up and write the time on the board, and she looked up, “Oh Ms Williams, we s’posed to be doin’ that test huh?” She says, and I say, “Uh huh,” and she says “Oh dang, why didn’t y’all tell me, where’s the prompt?” and she runs around getting her stuff and I gotta hand it to her, she wrote like the blazes for the rest of the period. Hey Mrs. Forester, you gotta let me know what she got on that essay.”

On the following Tuesday, towards the end of fourth block, Yvonne was giving her class a final pep talk before the state writing test on Wednesday.

“For the test tomorrow, according to the instructions, you are to bring nothing to class. Everything will be provided, as in pencils, and paper. There are special instructions which your teacher wherever you are in first block tomorrow will have to read to you. All I can say is, go over your lessons, make sure you know how to respond to the prompts. If they ask you to compare, don’t argue, if they ask for an opinion, don’t contrast facts. Just do as they ask, remember we have done each of these types of essays to death, it should be a walk in the park for you.”

The next day the writing test was announced over the PA system and teachers followed the sealed instructions to the letter. At the end of the allotted time the essays were collected and placed in sealed envelopes once more and the school mailed them off to the State Department of Education. Yvonne wondered how her fourth block class had fared as she supervised only her honors students from first block. Her other students would have been at any number of other classes in first period. In the final period of the day students were ready to relax and chill out, as they put it.

“Come on Mrs. F, we done did a test this morning, we should be relaxing now.” Yvonne smiled, “Oh I’m sorry, we’re still doing English II, now, the World Literature gets interesting, now that the essay writing is out of the way. In your text books is an excerpt of Night the novel by Elie Weisel.” The students without being told all flipped their texts to the first page of the novel, and prepared to read.

“However, I feel that you can’t get a true feeling for the point of Mr, Weisel’s experiences from just a short excerpt, so I have taken a class set of the novel itself from the library.” As she finished speaking a loud groan went up from the class, until she picked up one of the novels and they saw how slim it was.

“That don’t look so hard to read Mrs. F, I finish that in no time.” Rattled off jasmine, “Don’t let appearances fool you people, the story is very involved and full of layers of meaning, it’s not like reading a Mills & Boon.”

“Hey my mother reads them!” Billy remarked.

Yvonne gave them a short lecture about WWII and the Holocaust, relating this to racial prejudice in many parts of the world. Her students could definitely relate to the concepts that Weisel was espousing in his book. The kept a reading journal and each evening they would read a chapter and in class alternately students would write a summary on the blackboard. This enabled those who had missed something to include it in their own summary. They would discuss the story the next day and foreshadow what might happen in the next chapter.

Mrs. Forester decided to give the students a new kind of final exam at the end of the semester. They had all been used to taking a ‘Scantron’ multiple choice exam, but Yvonne wanted to give students a chance to show what they had learned during the semester. She selected ten of the items that the class had read over the semester and for the exam they were to select any five and answer the question. The answers were to be at least half a page and more if needed. She could see the fear on the students faces as she explained the final exam to them on the day, but then when she told them it was an ‘open book’ exam their fears dissipated somewhat. She reminded them that ‘open book’ was useless to them if they had not done the readings in the first place, as they did not have time to read during the exam. ‘Open book’ was for dates and references mostly.

The final exam was weighted at 75% of the overall semester grade, so regardless of the result of their writing test they could still pass the grade and be promoted to Junior. She spent a weekend going over all over the exam papers and with the aid of her husband she was able to grade all three of her classes in time for the opening of classes on Monday. Her Honors class performed as expected and breezed through with mostly As and some B+s, and the Third Block class all managed to pass the course. When the principal had given her the fourth block class originally, she hadn’t held much hope and expected them to drop out of school or repeat the grade. As it turned out, everyone scored a C+ or better on the final test and when Yvonne factored in their semester work and writing test scores and averaged them for the final grade, she no longer had any Cs but the lowest was B- with several As as well. The students of fourth block were over the moon with happiness at having succeeded against the odds.

“Hey Mrs. F we should have a party tomorrow, it’s the last day of school before summer break, so you just leave it all to us, we’ll handle everything.” Jackie bubbled as she started discussing what to bring for the party. Yvonne and Mike were chatting in the living room of their home and she said that she was so glad that she could make a difference with the kids, in a small way.

“Oh I think it’s in quite a big way, my wife’s a brilliant teacher.” Mike muttered as he kissed her again and sniggled closer to her.

University had broken up for the semester already so Mike accompanied his wife for the last day of school so that he could congratulate Yvonne’s students. The first two classes of the day had also arranged parties and Mike and Yvonne gorged themselves with sodas, popcorn, and candies of all kinds. Yvonne was thinking that she was a little disappointed for her fourth block class who basically had their thunder stolen from them. After the third block students had cleared up the trash from their party they all left at the bell and Yvonne and Mike awaited the arrival of the next class. The bell sounded but still no students had shown up and Yvonne looked at Mike wondering if they’d even bothered to come to school today.

The Public Address buzzed, “Would Mr. and Mrs. Forester please report to the school auditorium please?”

“Now what?” Yvonne muttered, “oh well this way.” She led her husband. They arrived at the school auditorium and it was empty as expected, the Seniors had graduated, the Prom was weeks ago, so of course it’s dark in here she thought. Suddenly a hand grabbed her in the dark and ushered them to front seats of the Auditorium. The lights went up and all of her fourth block students were lined up at stage left withPrincipal Dr. Benson seated in the centre of the stage. Mr. Forester stood and walked up the stairs to centre stage where he assumed the role of MC. He began with a speech lauding the achievements of his Wife Yvonne in one short semester and then called on Yvonne’s students to walk on stage and receive their passing report cards from Dr. Benson just like a graduation. Finally Dr. Benson took the microphone and thanked Yvonne for the hard work she had put in to a class that everyone including herself had virtually written off in January.

“Mrs Forester it was a blessing to have you here this year and I am sure the students will agree that we will miss you during summer vacation. And of course I expect to see you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in August for the new year.”

“I’ll be here, thank you for confirming my job for next year, that means we can have a good vacation now.”

“Oh where will you go?”

“My husband has offered to show me around his home town inAustralia.”

“Ooh, lucky you…” laughed Dr. Benson.

The End

Neologism for the day

Posted on April 18, 2012 by Enzolinguist

last night a school friend from Australia asked me if there was a word for a person who collects quotations. They had duly searched and I searched and we didn’t find any such description, I decided to invent one. I have some experience with neologism, having studied the exploits of Shakespeare, Dickens, Douglas Adams, and May Gibbs. I delved into Greek and Latin and decided Greek was best and I came up with “Parathetist”, made up from the Greek for Quote “Paratheto” and the suffix “ist” for practitioner. If anyone knows of another word for this meaning let me know…

Enzo

Grammar: Conjunctions

Posted on April 17, 2012 by Enzolinguist

Conjunctions

Joining phrases and words

We use conjunctions every day. We use them without even knowing we are using them. In school however, we are required to pick out the parts of speech as part of the learning process. The following are some easy to learn ways to recognize the different conjunctions and their roles in English grammar.

Put simply, a conjunction is a word that joins single words or a group of words. The first type is a coordinating conjunction and this joins words or groups of words that have equal grammatical weight in a sentence. Equal grammatical weight simply means that the words have a similar importance to the sentence meaning. These are: and, but, or, so, nor, for, yet.

Correlative conjunctions: These work in pairs to join words and groups of words of equal grammatical weight in a sentence. These are: both…and; just as…so; not only…but (also); either…or; neither…nor; whether…or.

correlative conjunctions make the relationship between words or groups of words a little clearer than do coordinating conjunctions. Examples are: Coordinating: Kim and I must test the software. Correlative: Both Kim and I must test the software.

Subordinating conjunctions. this joins two clauses, or thoughts, in such a way as to make one grammatically dependent on the other. The thought, or clause, that the subordinating conjunction introduces is said to be subordinate, or dependent, because it cannot stand by itself as a complete sentence. E.G. ‘Since’ you learned to dance, you have become more graceful. [‘Since’ is the subordinating conjunction]. Others are: after, as though, although, because, until as, etc.

Conjunctive adverbs. This is used to clarify the relationship between clauses of equal grammatical weight in a sentence. These adverbs are usually stronger, more precise, and more formal than coordinating conjunctions. Notice that when a coordinating conjunction is used between clauses, a comma precedes the coordinating conjunction. When a conjunctive adverb is used between clauses, a semicolon precedes the conjunctive adverb, and a comma follows it. Conjunctive adverbs have many uses, as the following examples show. To replace ‘and’: also, besides, furthermore, moreover. To replace ‘but’: however, nevertheless, nonetheless, still. To state a result: accordingly, consequently, then, therefore, thus. To state equality: equally, likewise, similarly.

Cheers

Enzo Silvestri

How to best learn?

Posted on April 15, 2012 by Enzolinguist

It seems that Krashen’s theories are back in favour now and CLT is on the back burner. Personally I think that the method you use to acquire a language should reflect the purpose for which you want to learn that language. I have seen chunking as a strategy used quite effectively in many cases, yet not many people discuss this as a viable option. Thoughts? for instance, when ABBA was at their height they were singing English songs almost perfectly, yet I heard an interview on an English program and they could hardly speak English without very heavy accents and frequent errors. When studying French as a child I learned a song and while I have forgotten most of what I learnt in class, I still remember the song and what each of the words mean. What does this say for learning set chunks of language, or learning with song.

The Kazwegian Princess – A Fable

Posted on April 14, 2012 by Enzolinguist

The Kazwegian Princess

Once upon a time in the distant land of Kazway, there lived a beautiful princess.

Her name was Kaz. Her father named her so because of the purity she displayed.

She was very happy frolicking amongst the flowers and lilies of the glades around her castle. She loved reading, and writing stories about one day meeting her prince.

Her father, King Ernezian ruled over a peaceful people and his subjects did not want for anything. This did not last however, because one Dark, and stormy night the evil Count Grislex waged war on the peaceful land of Kazway.

The evil Count attacked the land and kidnapped Kaz, the Kazwegian princess. He carried her away captive to his dark and foreboding castle hidden away in the low down swamps of the Evergladius. And so there he locked her away in the high lonesome tower. He only brought her out to display her like a trophy to his evil cohorts when they made merry with drink. And so the Kazwegian Princess spent her days locked up high in the tower of the fortress. Meanwhile her captor, the evil Grislex would sit in his smugness thinking up more evil pursuits.

Far far away from Kazway, in a sunburnt land, the land of sweeping plains, there lived a handsome prince called Enzias. People called him the Aussie Hood because shunned the trappings of royalty. Rather than stay in his father’s land and inherit his kingdom he roamed the world in search of adventure. Of course the land of Kazway was famous the world over for its beautiful and rich, scenery and many tourists. But this beauty soured when people remembered the captive Kaz. When Enzias learned of the captive Kaz, the Kazwegian princess and decided he would rescue her. He rode his gleaming steed through the clouds until he found the fortress of the evil Grislex. For many days Enzias and Kaz would exchange letters while she was still captive in the tower.

She would wrap her letter around a rock and throw it out her window to Enzias. She called this her Enzias-mail, or email for short. Enxias wrapped his replies around an arrow and shot them in the window into Kaz’s net thus it was “In-the-net” mail, or Internet for short. And so they discussed their rescue plans and fell in love with each other also. The evil Grislex was guarding his fortress and he refused to move from the door.He ordered his food to be brought to him and he ate and ate, until he was most cumbersome. When the rescue finally came the Aussie Hood, now Aussie Knight strode towards Grislex’s fortress and just cut the guards down with his two-edged sword. When he challenged Grislex, the evil one made a lunge at him, but the Aussie Knight was too

quick for him and easily sidestepped the attack.

Grislex was not accustomed to his new bulk as he had eaten and drunk excessively and he went sprawling onto the floor. Enzias spun around, expecting Grislex again, but Grislex now was like a beached whale on the floor and could not even raise himself. The Aussie Knight, Enxias, released the Kazwegian Princess, and together they presented themselves to her father. King Ernezian blessed their union and they were married at Enxias’ Church by Pastor Razian. Then they settled down in their house called Karenzo Pines, and lived happily ever after.

THE END

Karenzolingua

A Resource Site

Revisiting the Seoul of life…

Up Above From Down Under

1 Early Years

New Word of the Day

Saved In Iraq

Fairvale High – Part II

THE MAN FROM IRONBARK by A.B. “Banjo”Paterson

Neologism for the day

Grammar: Conjunctions

How to best learn?

The Kazwegian Princess – A Fable