Is it because I’m in Asia or because I’m getting old?

(This post is best read while listening to this song in the background.)

Sometimes when living overseas, you encounter puzzling situations that are difficult to decipher the cause. Lately, I’ve been pondering a few of these examples. Are they cultural or generational reasons for the confusion? In other words, is it because I’m in Asia or because I’m getting old?

Example #1: 80s Power Ballads

It seems I love 80s power ballads. The humidity of Malaysia certainly gives my hair the tight curls and volume for the decade and the local radio station never tires of playing hits of the 80s and 90s. I have no idea what the hits of today even are. Stars of the past like Chicago, Extreme, and RIO Speedwagon have all recently graced the stage in Kuala Lumpur to a crowd of eager fans belting out the lyrics like no time has passed at all.  There’s something sweet and nostalgic that comes over me every time I’m driving (or am stuck in traffic) and hear an 80s power ballad on the radio that makes me crank up “The Swif’s” factory speakers to the max. (90s hip hop seems to have a similar effect but that’s another story.)

Asia or getting old?

Example #2: Paying cash and wanting to spend all my change

Years of living in SouthEast Asia has also spoiled me with the cost of living. Food, drink and general day to day expenses are just a fraction of the cost they are in Canada or pretty much anywhere else in the world. So I always have cash on me. It’s handy to have at the market or if you’re in a pinch and need to pay a random guy to park your car. With all these dealings of cash, change can start to weigh down your wallet, and there’s nothing worse than that. So yes, I’ve become that annoying person at the front of the grocery checkout with the coins out on the counter counting the exact amount. And Shaun’s taken it to a whole new level. He actually has all our foreign currency coins labeled in little baggies which he insists we take with us every time we travel. Going to Vietnam soon? We have thousands of dong (the equivalent of 10s of dollars in coins) ready and waiting to be spent.

Asia or getting old?

Example #3: Phones at the gym

Why is it that people cannot give up their phones while at the gym? I am perfectly ok with leaving my phone in a locker for the hour or so that I’m in a fitness class. I have no desire whatsoever to take a sweaty selfie. And I’m certainly not worried about the one Whatsapp message I might miss.

However, that isn’t the case for the majority of people who frequent my favourite spin class. Despite the rule, “Phones are strictly prohibited in the studio.” The instructor has to pry the devices from the hands of nearly every participant as they take snap one last fish-faced, cleavage rendering dimly lit photo of their reflection for Insta (or whatever is hip these days). And I shouldn’t discriminate in my post, because it’s not just the women. I’ve watched plenty a man video himself smiling and flexing. Apparently this,  #FitnessAddict is so excited about #gettinbuff that he must announce his #LifeGoals to the #world.

Asia or getting old?

Truth be told these and other examples are probably a symptom of both. I’m slowly turning into an ageing Asian at heart. I’ll let you decide. . . .

Trina

Orchestrating a Malaysian Move

 

Enjoying a final sunset view from our apartment balcony.

It all began less than one month ago when our landlords sold our place. In fairness, they had been trying to sell for years, and they gave us as much notice as they could. However, we were leaving for our annual summer pilgrimage and planned to return only one day before work will start up again. So that meant finding a new place and moving all our stuff in 3 weeks while working full time during the busy end of the school year.

Fortunately, I function well with checklists, and many were necessary to accomplish this feat. Here is our checklist for moving success.

• Don’t lose your cool (at least not publicly)! We’ve found the stand and hover method works best sometimes interspersed with encouraging statements such as, “I’m confident you can problem solve this one.”
• Enlist help. Fortunately, once you know the system in Malaysian there is a “guy” for everything. Coordinating painting, packing and moving, getting custom made furniture- a few WhatsApp messages and a bank transfer takes care of it all in a few days.
• Don’t think about money. You need to be ready to part with your hard earned cash at a rapid rate. Don’t worry about it. Life’s too short.
• Use your connections. Run into a seemingly impossible obstacle? A friend of a friend’s sister’s cousin likely had the solution for you. And if not there’s always public shaming incompetent companies on Twitter.

With this checklist complete, we are about to board the plane with relatively few worries and a brand new place to be excited to return to in August. More details then. . . if the internet actually does get hooked up.

For now, shout out to the Raptors for making the last moments of the school year even more exciting, and next stop- London!

The final moments of the Raptors game were tense as the Canadian teachers watched on their phones while sending the students off from another successful school year. 

Trina

Four decades old and a new career begins

This has nothing at all to do with my blog. I just really like this picture. I took this photo of (very active) Mt. Agung in Bali while we visited with my parents in early February. We managed to avoid being swept into any lava flows.

Several months back I unceremoniously turned four decades old. Not really a big deal in my books as I’ve (thankfully) evaded a majority of middle-aged maladies like slipped discs or gout. Even though my whitening hair betrays me, most days I actually feel younger than ever (living in an endless summer and spending my days in a high school play a big role in that).

One thing that hasn’t been ideal the past four years has been my career trajectory. My part-time coaching, substitute teaching, freelance (emphasis on the free) writing, house husband gig wasn’t horrible, but it really wasn’t enough. Truth be told, I struggled a lot with the lack of direction and loneliness of it all. I knew I had to try something new, but I just didn’t know what step to take first.

Things started coming into focus this year when I began a full-time job as a teaching assistant helping high school kids with learning needs. While I have no real experience or education in teaching special education, and most days I feel like I’m back in school myself, it’s been a fun, challenging time.

I honestly have no idea if I’m making any difference with the kids, but since they already seem smarter than me, I think they’ll be just fine in whatever they do.

Here are a few things I’ve learned so far:

• Always carry around the answer key during math class.
• When a student says ‘you’re soooo weird’, take it as a compliment.
• When you don’t know an answer to a kid’s question, tell them you’re not letting them off the hook that easy.
• When a student gives you a Christmas card that says “I hope you have a worse Christmas”, know that it comes from a place of love (and mild loathing).
• It’s tough not to start every sentence with, “when I was your age, we didn’t have the internet, cell phones, Instagram, podcasts, Uber (we actually just got that in Regina), etc., etc.
• I remember nothing from high school except a few random things like: Boo Radley, FOIL (which they don’t even use in math anymore), and how to spell onomatopoeia.

Best of all though, every day is filled with laughs, frustration, triumphs, anger, disappointment, tears, high fives and eye rolls – every human emotion covered in just a few hours (and that’s just the teachers!) Oh, and another sweet thing is the 12 weeks or so of vacation every year (see you soon Regina!).

All this has lead me to become a student again myself beginning in September, as I start a year-long course to receive my international teaching certificate.

While I still have doubts that I’m doing the right thing, it does feel good to have a direction – and if I’m being honest, it’s a direction I kind of always knew I’d eventually go down (see: my Grandma, Mom, sister, wife, father-in-law, et al).

I guess I just needed some time (and a push from a new decade) to get there.

Wish me luck, I’m likely going to need it!

Shaun

Learning to speak with my hands and listen with my eyes: Inside a Malaysian Sign Language class

Our instructor teaches us the Malaysia Sign Language alphabet.
Recently, I decided to enroll in a Malaysian Sign Language class. I don’t speak Bahasa Malay and I don’t know American Sign Language, so it’s a natural fit – right?

When I emailed the local YMCA, they let me into the class so I figured it would be a good thing to try. Over the past 10 weeks, I have been lucky enough to learn about Deaf culture in Malaysia, get to know some wonderful people and fumble my way through signing.

The class instructor, Susan, is Deaf and we all sit in silent rapt attention for 3 hours each week as she patiently tries to teach us the basics.  You would think sitting in a circle in silence and having no idea what your instructor is saying most of the time would be boring, but it’s surprising how fast the time went. It is like a sophisticated game of charades.

Our last class was yesterday and there was a final exam. Going into the exam it was unclear as to what we would be tested on, the structure of the test or the criteria for passing. So I want to reflect on the things I actually did learn before I get my results back!

Things I’ve learned:

• Helpful signs for all sorts of Malaysian food and fruits. I may be the only white person in the world who knows the signs for durian, mangosteen, curry mee and chicken rice.
• Many countries and regions have a different sign language. Malaysian Sign Language is based on American Sign Language but some signs are different such as the sign for “rice”.
•  Deaf with a capital D is a culture and a form of identity whereas deaf with a lowercase d refers to having little to no functional hearing. The terms “deaf” or “hard of hearing”  are preferred over “hearing impaired” by most.
• Deaf classrooms are set up in a circle so that everyone can clearly see each other.
• Alarm clocks for the deaf are vibration devices under the pillow and flashing light systems can be installed for the doorbell, the phone, etc.
• According to our instructor (who is fluent in three languages), being very talkative and losing track of time is part of Deaf culture!
• A whole new level of understanding for students in my classroom who don’t have English as their first language.

There are no ties in baseball…except in Japan

Welcome to the Sapporo Dome – home of the Hokkaido Nippon Ham Fighters of the Nippon Professional Baseball (NPB) league. Seating over 42,000, it’s one of the largest indoor stadiums in the world. Click on this picture to see a few more pics/vids from the game and our ski trip to Japan.

Watching a Japanese baseball game live has always been on my travel bucket list. I almost made it to a game last year with my parents in Tokyo, but we were stymied by a sold out game and a general lack of scalpers around the stadium.

I figured I was out of luck again this year during our recent trip to Hokkaido over the March break. It was opening weekend and there were no tickets to be found online. But that’s when being from Saskatchewan paid off.

You see, it just so happens that our friend Hannah, who teaches in Japan, had recently become friends with Andrew, an import starting pitcher for the Orix Buffaloes of the Nippon Professional Baseball (NPB) league, who also happened to be from North “Battlefield”, Saskatchewan (or something like that according Hannah).

I know what you’re thinking. There must be dozens of pitchers in Japan from North Battleford. Not so much. A quick Google search discovered that Andrew was actually Andrew Albers, a former major league pitcher who has found success in the Japanese league that past couple seasons.

Upon finding out the upcoming game between Andrew’s visiting Buffaloes, and the home side, Nippon Ham Fighters, was sold out, Hannah sent a text to Andrew and within minutes he had two tickets for Trina and I set aside with the note – “anything for fellow Saskies.” What a guy!

With our tickets secured (thanks again Andrew), we made sure to get to the stadium early to take it all in. From the moment we arrived, I knew it was going to be a unique live sports experience (see: Taylor Field, Regina for another unique place to watch a game). Here are the highlights from the Sapporo Dome:

• Single file, quiet lineups to get into the stadium. I’ve never witnessed 40,000 people so organized and quiet and efficiently going to watch a sporting event. They were so calm that you had to look closely to notice that many people were sipping on beers (sneaky!).
• A lot of ladies. I’d say the crowd was well over half female, which was cool to see.
• Heavy drinking crowd (the ladies too!), but no public displays of drunkenness. They actually have beer vendors walking the aisles with small kegs attached to their backs the entire game. (No 7th inning last calls here). Amazing service.
• A very positive atmosphere with no boos or swearing or slurs. I’ve been to a couple games at Fenway Park in Boston, so I’ve seen negative, and this was the exact opposite.
• A hugely attentive and knowledgeable crowd. Every pitch is clapped for and dissected. Every hit appreciated. In fact, baseball seems perfectly designed for Japanese culture.
• A lot of singing and chanting. Every player on both teams has a song or a chant that the crowd sings every time they come up to the plate – and they continue singing for the entire at-bat, which can sometimes be 10 minutes long.
• They don’t seem concerned about the length of the game. Pitchers shaking off the catcher multiple times. Batters stepping out of the box repeatedly. And the crowd loving it all. Our game lasted over 5 hours (over 12 innings)
• And finally, as Tom Selleck abruptly realized in the 90’s classic “Mr. Baseball”, there indeed can be ties in baseball.

After 12 innings and a 4 – 4 tie, the Buffaloes and Ham Fighters shook hands and everybody clapped and politely headed for the exits. Civilized, cerebral, and fun – thank you Andrew Albers for the tickets and for helping me take something off my bucket list. Next up, sumo! (I bet there are some sumo wrestlers from Saskatchewan. We’re everywhere.)

Shaun

Thoughts when in the jungle under a leaky tarp

This week was our school’s annual Malaysia Week, which for me is a yearly adventure with 20 middle school kids roughing it in the jungle. The week of rafting and setting up camp near the river each night means a very limited packing list. My super compact air mattress was my one luxury item, which meant no space for books let alone electronics. This means plenty of time to think. And trust me, your thoughts go strange places when trapped under a leaky tarp with a bunch of middle schoolers trying desperately to fit yourself on an inflatable mattress half your size and get some sleep.

The cool thing about this trip is that we are in a pretty remote part of the jungle which is 130 million years old. It’s all on local indigenous land that we need special permission to access. The Orang Asli lived on this land for hundreds of years before the logging trucks arrived.

10 years ago the water in the rivers was so clear that you could see right down to the river bed. Now the rivers are muddy as there aren’t enough trees to prevent erosion. The number of elephants and tigers in this area have decreased by 50% over the past 5 years. The Orang Asli aren’t reaping the benefits of the profits from these government decisions, and like indigenous populations everywhere, they are often living in appalling conditions – left to be forgotten about. You need not look further than just outside of Toronto for examples of third world living conditions and disputes over vital resources such as water.

And yet we blame and polarize.

In Thomas Orange’s novel There There, he explores these issues of colonialism on indigenous populations in America. The title is a reference to Gertrude Stein’s line about the city of her childhood, Oakland, California: “there is no there there”, applying the same concept to what indigenous populations were left with after European settlement.

And now we fear and want to protect what we, the descendants of European settlers, see as our rights, our land and our jobs. This is what politics preys on. More than ever fueled by social media messages, extreme propaganda on both sides is circulated at unprecedented rates. Driven by anger and disbelief we feel the need to join a side, join a team, fight for a cause and win.

We blame, we polarize, the gap widens and everyone loses.

But there is a large forgotten space in between. One in which I believe the majority of people lie. For at the root of it, don’t we all value human rights and want to protect our natural environment? And we all want an economy that functions and jobs to provide for our families too. Instead of looking at the issues that divide us, can’t we look at the values we share? If we don’t collectively stand up to extreme views, what will remain?

Blame and polarity.

Each time I look in at the issues arising in Canada, I wonder if there will be a ‘there, there’ when I return to live. Or maybe the there I thought existed wasn’t really there in the first place.

Trina

Figuring out hotel room lights and other travel perils

Travelling this weekend for a conference with colleagues truly was “fun for all and all for fun!”

Part of the reason I enjoy travel so much is because it challenges me to get outside my comfort zone and learn new things from other perspectives. Usually when I’m talking about this, I’m referring to adventurous, backpacker type travel. But as I get older, I’m not only noticing that my eyebrows have been infiltrated with grey hairs but also that my travel is getting more comfortable more frequently. And I’m ok with that!

But don’t underestimate comfortable and convenient travel; it is not without its challenges and lessons. They are just more cleverly disguised.

Take this past four day trip to Hong Kong which I went on for a conference.

The school put me up in a very nice hotel. As I entered the hotel room for the first time late that night , I was enjoying all the simple pleasures such a platform to strategically open my suitcase directly below a spot to hang my clothes. I cleverly arranged all my toiletries along side the hotel brand shampoo, conditioner and body wash on the bathroom counter. Then when everything was organised I crawled into bed under the crisp white linens.

I was set to settle in for a peaceful sleep reflecting on my seamless use of both my reusable coffee mug and water bottle in the airports earlier that day- feeling almost smug at my ability to navigate this travel thing until I leaned over to switch off the light.

I turned off all the switches beside the bed. Still the bright lights shone. I got up and flicked on and off every switch I could find to no avail. I looked under every nook and cranny for any hidden switch and found many random hidden drawers, an oddly placed mini fridge, bathrobes, wine glasses and even the Gideon Bible in a strange drawer under the bed but the lights remained on.

How could I not figure this out? How was I possibly going to sleep? I considered phoning the front desk for help but felt too embarrassed. Surely I was more intelligent than this!

After several more minutes of ridiculously desperate attempts of crawling on the floor looking for secret switches, knocking on the wooden panels of the wall and even clapping once to see if it was activated by “the clapper”, I conceded defeat.

I resorted to removing the key card from the wall never to figure out the light mystery. I had one more small struggle with the blackout curtains fumbling around in the dark but did manage to settle into a good night’s sleep.

It turns out we can learn things from any moment that throws a challenge our way.

On this particular trip, I learned just how difficult and funny navigating a hotel room can be, I learned that Burger King in Hong Kong sells beer and I learned just how powerful team socks are in bonding colleagues.

Oh- and I also learned how to work my hotel room shower!

Trina

My friend Lee

This is Lee and I performing our ushering duties at our good friend Celeste’s wedding a few years back. I was obviously wearing a wig. Lee was not.

One of the scariest moments about living in a far off time zone is checking my phone when I wake up. I’m not sure why as I’ve received very little bad news during my time overseas. (I just knocked on a huge piece of wood.) It’s not an overwhelming fear just a tiny twinge of doubt that I might have slept through something crappy happening back home.

I’m guessing it’s a natural feeling; and the majority of time I’m relieved and happy to wake up to a photo of my nieces or nephews, or at worst my monthly update on my meagre pension savings.

Last week, my irrational fear was unfortunately explained.

We happened to be in Bali enjoying a Chinese New Year getaway with my visiting parents. We were about to head off for a day of hiking, eating and shopping, when I glanced at my message notifications to see the words – ‘terrible news’, ‘Lee’ and ‘passed away.’

I’m not proud to admit this, but I immediately shut off my phone before reading any of the messages. I wanted nothing to do with any of those words and I blocked it out of my mind for the entire day.

When we got back to our place at the end of the day and I turned my phone back on, I was hoping the messages would be gone. A figment of my imagination. They weren’t. It was time to face the truth.

My friend and former colleague Lee had taken his own life the day before. As I struggled through glassy eyes to read the multiple messages from former colleagues, I pieced together that he’d been on leave from work and people hadn’t talked to him in awhile. He was obviously struggling and I had no idea.

The last time I saw Lee was in July as we caught up over beers (pop for him) and nachos. Like always, we laughed and chatted about our upcoming travel plans (he was excited for his a visit to New Zealand in November) and I was selling him on a visit to Malaysia.

When we parted ways that night (and he offered me a ride home like he always did), I remember thinking how content and full of life he seemed to be. It made me happy to see him so happy.

Fast forward six months and he was gone. It makes no sense. Was he putting on a good front in July? Did something terrible happen later that summer? Or did the depression and anxiety that he dealt with for much of his life just put a grip on him that he couldn’t release? The answer is probably ‘yes’ to all three questions.

It’s tough to make sense of any of it, and what hurts the most is that he may have died not knowing how many people loved and respected him. That thought is going to haunt me for a long time.

Lee was such a special person – kind, generous, stoic, modest, gentle, witty, patient – and best of all he put up with (and I think even enjoyed) working with idiots like me.

From the moment we were presented matching denim, jewel encrusted thongs from our female colleagues (I know that sounds creepy, but it was all in good fun) or when we dressed up as Golden Girls together for Halloween (he was a spitting image of Dorothy when he wore a wig), I knew we’d be buds for a long time.

And while I wish we could have shared more laughs together, I’m so grateful for the ones we did have.

You were a beauty, Lee Cowie. Thank you for all the rides home. Thank you for teaching me about comma splices. Thank you for enduring my karaoke singing, And most of all, thank you for being my friend. I’m going to miss you.

http://leaderpost.remembering.ca/obituary/lee-cowie-1072610714

A couple more pics of me and Lee, or is it Lee and me, or Lee and I. Lee would know this answer!

 

 

Why remembering my Hyundai Pony makes me so thankful

This isn’t my Pony. Picture more rust. Photo source: https://driving.ca/hyundai/pony/auto-news/news/an-unbridled-passion-for-the-beautifully-humble-pony

The world isn’t always a kind place. I know that. Today was a particularly heavy news day for me. Sometimes the stories you hear just hit you harder and the case of Hassan Al Kontar is one I feel helplessly connected to.

Which is why hearing Friday’s episode of CBC’s As It Happens was so timely. The podcast was all about a mint condition 1986 Hyundai Pony for sale in Quebec for $15,000 and chronicled the rise and fall of this economic Korean vehicle in the Canadian market.

For those of you not familiar with the Pony, this commercial will give you an idea.

1987 Hyundai Pony Commercial

In high school and my first years of university (1996-2002), I drove a silver 1984 Hyundai Pony. Its features included a manual choke (think of starting a lawn mower), a sweet cassette deck, a cup holder, carpeting throughout and rear defrost. All of which were directly marketed in their advertising campaign (CBC’s As It Happens). Nevermind frivolous accessories like power steering, digital clocks or heat that worked, this Korean marvel of the 80s had exactly what my family and a lot of Canadians wanted – it started (most of the time) in the winter and it was cheap!

Now, my parents must have bought our used Pony in around 1987.  I can remember riding shotgun with my tight perm, backcombed bangs, and Fisher-Price Sun Jammers thinking I was “like, totally rad” in this ride. Flash forward to 1996 and I became the lucky heir to this family treasure.

My friends and I dubbed this vehicle, “the 80s-mobile” and we kept all the original cassettes my father got for 99cents from joining Columbia House. Taylor Dayne, Billy Ocean, REO Speedwagon, Tears for Fears and Sade were amongst the stellar artists whose tunes were blasted on our daily commute to school.

By this point, the Pony was a little worse for wear. You had to open the door with a coat hanger because the handle fell off, the passenger side seat was falling through the floorboards and it seemed to drip antifreeze or some sort of greenish blue liquid onto my foot while driving.

The car didn’t do well on ice; I may or may not have slid up on a curb a time or two. The car didn’t do well in snow; we got stuck nearly every new snowfall and my friends and I would have to dig the Pony out. Every January my parents got me a CAA membership and one year I remember using up all the free tows by the end of the month.

But what that car lacked in practicality, it made up for in character and in stamina. The Pony was near its end many times but it kept running long enough to be passed on to my sister and sold to a lucky stranger after that for $200.

Nostalgia is funny.

It distorts the way things really were. I’m sure when I was stuck in a snow bank for the 10th time in a single month I wasn’t thinking of how great my crappy car was.

Nostalgia is a privilege.

You can look back fondly even in the difficult situations you had only because you have a hopeful future. And not all people have this privilege.

That’s why on this Canadian Thanksgiving weekend I feel thankful to laugh with Shaun over stories about my 1984 Hyundai Pony.

Trina

Source:

https://www.cbc.ca/radio/asithappens/as-it-happens-wednesday-edition-1.4848746/a-hyundai-pony-once-canada-s-favourite-hatchback-on-sale-for-15k-1.4848757