Into The Woods With 6th Graders

Yes, it’s a spooky, scary time of year, and what could be scarier than being marooned on an island with 85ish 11 and 12 year olds? Not much that I can think of, having just done it. Here are a few things I learned on my trip:

1. I’m really good with middle school kids when they go home at 3 p.m.

2. I’m really not good with middle school kids at 10 p.m. on day two of a trip when camping. I foolishly believed that they would listen to their group leader and stop talking at 9:30 p.m., official lights out time. I know I did when I was twelve. I was always the first kid asleep at a sleep-over even if it meant getting my bra frozen (they traditional punishment doled out on the first girl asleep). Fortunately I smuggled in my iPod and blocked out the chatter. I know it was really exciting for the first-time campers. But me, all I wanted to do was sleep.

3. 6^th grade students are really impressed when you kill an insect or an arachnid. We had an outdoor activity and a huge wasp was buzzing around. So, I did what anyone would do when 20 people were swatting at a bug with a venomous stinger. I stepped on it. A hush fell over the students. I think someone said “she’s our health teacher and she killed a wasp. Oooh. Aaah. “ Another group of students (you can guess the gender) had a spider in the shower. This was day three of the camping trip and I was a little crispy. And grouchy. Really, really grouchy. When I was approached with the spider situation, I told them to kill it themselves. Ten minutes later, I was feeling slightly more sympathetic (and knew I was a little too grouchy) and checked to see if the spider was still in the shower. It was. I pounded it with a shoe. More stares of awe and wonder. Kill a few bugs, you’re a hero.

4. Chinese food can be great. Chinese food, when trapped in a lodge in the woods with no other options, can also be not so great. Especially when kids don’t eat all of the salad and it becomes a soup for lunch the next day. Waste not, want not.

5. I am not as young as I used to be. I like to think I am still as flexible and stretchy as I was 20 years ago. This is not the case. Another teacher and I climbed the “Giant Ladder” which is what it sounds like. Imagine a 40 foot high ladder made out of ropes and logs with a 5 ½ foot gap between each rung. I climbed it. I have a bruise the size of a t-bone on my leg to prove it. But I got up the ladder. Sure I look like I was beaten, but that’s not important.

6. It’s good to get out of my comfort zone. Was I really, really, really excited about 3 nights with pre-adolescents. No. Did I have a great time? Well, no. But the kids did. And I am so glad that they did as it was amazing for them to get out, challenge themselves and do things they don’t normally get to do like climb giant rope ladders and cook their own meals. And that was more important than how I felt. I am glad I was able to go with them. And if I was even more glad to sleep in my own bed again, well, they never have to know.

Men Dancing Beautifully on a Rainy Night

I noticed recently in a magazine for expats that Guangzhou was having a performing arts festival. I immediately jumped on this knowledge and decided to book tickets for two events. The first was called “Men in Tutus.” The ballet company Les Ballets Trocadero de Monte Carlo, consists of men, dancing, in tutus. This was, as you may well imagine, impossible to pass up.
I decided to attend the event , held at the Guangzhou Opera House, with some friends from work. We also determined that we would meet for dinner before the event as it began at 8:00 p.m. We planned to meet at 6:00 p.m. at a restaurant near the venue. I had a general idea of the location of the restaurant, so I decided to take a taxi and just show the address to the driver. Between the time I arrived home at 3:30 p.m. and leaving two hours later, a deluge of Biblical proportions began. My better judgment told me that I should probably take the metro, as the stop is located right under my building. But, owing to the fact that I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going, I decided to rely on the street smarts of my cabbie. Wrong, wrong, wrong. My first mistake was assuming it would be wise to catch a taxi in the rain. The minute the drops start to fall, taxis disappear. I had 20 taxis pass that were full. I waited for 15 mintues and finally flagged down a cab. However, two women materialized on my corner as the taxi pulled over and jumped in. I was incensed. How dare they poach my taxi. I managed to keep the stream of profanity in my head rather than pounding on the window and letting them have it.
Another five minutes passed and I finally managed to get a taxi. My umbrella was leaking at this point and I was soggy and angry. As I showed the driver the taxi card, he gave me a look that told me he had no idea where I wanted him to take me. At that moment, I prayed for Chinese language abilities to materialize. This did not happen. Instead I showed him a taxi card for the Ritz-Carleton, which I knew was fairly close to where I was going. He seemed frustrated with me, but I as I had flatly refused to surrender my ride, he had no choice but to take me. He did, however drop me on the opposite side of the road, which was divided by a very large and impassable median. I think he even sneered and laughed a little when he took my fare, but I can’t be sure. I walked, in three inches of rainwater, to the nearest crosswalk and started out in the general direction of the restaurant. I called my friend who was already there to see if she could give me directions. She asked several people that worked there if they could explain to me (in English as I was still not fluent in Mandarin) where the restaurant was located. No one could give me directions.
By this point I was soaked to my knees. My umbrella was still leaking and I was worried that I would destroy my phone by trying to get directions. There may have been tears. It was hard to tell with all of the rain leaking through my umbrella. I continued in the general direction of the restaurant and realized that I was starting to recognize things. I knew where I was! I knew there would soon be a dry place, a burger and a Coke Zero. My mood improved from hysterical to teetering on the edge. Things got even better when the food arrived. Ironically enough all four of us that were attending the ballet had similar stories of rain woe. Two of my co-workers never made it to the restaurant and took Shelter at the Ritz where they drank $10 coffee and weathered the storm.
Just as I began to get dry, it was time to go back out into the maelstrom. However, this time I knew where I was. And the rain had lessened a bit. We made it to the opera house and took our seats. While the place was super-air-conditioned, it was not wet.
The performance was well worth the epic struggle required to arrive. The ballet was both masterful and grotesquely comical. What else would you expect with an all-male ballet company. Dying swan from “Swan Lake” was the highlight of the night. Natalie Portman has nothing on dying swan guy.
After two hours, the performance ended. I had almost forgotten about the rain. Until I stepped outside. Cats and dogs. I dashed, once again in several inches of water to the metro station. I arrived on the platform ready to be home. I decided to fish my keys and my key-card out of my bag before I had to go back out into the rain. As I searched my purse, I realized, to my horror, that my key card was missing. I looked again. And again. No key-card. Somewhere, out in the rain, my key-card was floating toward a drain. Could my rain karma possibly get any worse? Fortunately, it was a short ride on the metro and some kind soul in my building forgot to shut an outer door. I was able to gain access to the building and my warm, dry apartment. Was it worth it? Yes. Would I take a better umbrella next time? And galoshes? And an inflatable dinghy? Yes. But Men in Tutus, sodden or dry was a cultural event not to be missed. I hope they come back soon. I’ll be waiting with my rain-gear.

Business Class

I shouldn’t have done it. I knew it would be good; I just had no idea how good. When I booked my flight to Bali (using frequent flier miles) I cashed in a few extra and booked the last half of my flight in business class. Mistake. Huge, huge mistake. I fly economy a lot, and I have a feeling that I will now resent it. A lot.
It started with check in in Denpasar. I was able to skip the really, really long line and go to the special Thai Airways Royal Silk line. Nice. My bag was underweight, as you get 32 kilograms in business class rather than 20 in economy. I was also handed a pass for the “Prada Lounge” where I could wait for my flight. Of course I went to the lounge. There was plenty of free food, free internet and a reflexology station. And showers. I passed on the showers, and instead ate the noodles.
As I headed for the gate, I found myself feeling, well, a little entitled. Being called to the front of the line didn’t help. Nor did the orange juice I was served when I arrived at my seat. The OJ was followed by a hot towel and magazines, and then a menu for my four course in-flight meal. As the plane ascended to cruising altitude, I reclined my chair to a semi-recumbent position and put on the complimentary noise-cancelling headphones. By this time I was ready for my second hot towel of the flight and my snack that came before the pre-meal warm snack. I decided to put on my comfort socks and kicked back and watched a movie on the really big screen in the seat in front of me. Lunch arrived – shrimp and scallops, salad, chicken in soy sauce, and hot rolls served twice by the flight attendants. After lunch, they broke out the cheese tray with fresh fruit before serving a coconut tart for dessert. As we circled the airport before landing, I wasn’t even slightly disappointed that we had to circle for an extra few minutes. I welcomed it.
This phenomena repeated itself as I flew from Bangkok to Guangzhou. I got off the plane knowing that it would probably be a while before I flew business class again. Although, now that I have lived it, I feel more willing to pay for it. Or pray for an upgrade. Please, let me be upgraded. I can’t go back to coach.

More Pics from Bali

As you can see, vacationing in Bali is a real hardship. There hasn't been much to do, really, other than
sitting by the pool, snorkeling, eating lots of Balinese food and hanging out with monkeys. To break the monotony of sitting by the pool, I headed to Ubud yesterday. There was much shopping, eating, visiting of monkey forests and watching Balinese dancers. Balinese dance is somewhat hard to describe. There were a lot of men chanting and waving their hands (I was tempted more than once to scream out "JAZZ HANDS!" but it seemed inappropriate), and a singing style that was somewhat reminiscent of beat-boxing, but in a Hindi temple with lots of candles.




Today I went to the spa for massaging, scrubbing and soaking at a fraction of the cost of home. I also took a sunset sail on an outrigger canoe with an outboard motor. It was a

beautiful last evening in Bali. I topped it off with my 5th serving of mango crumble of the week. I have been trying desperately to get the chef at the hotel to give me the recipe, but he keeps pretending like he hasn't heard my request and walking off. Jerk. Gastronomic genius jerk...Sadly my week of vacation is coming to a close. I will get back on a plane tomorrow and head home to Guangzhou via Bangkok. It's been a beautiful few days here in Bali. I'll miss the mango crumble the most.

Photographic Proof of my Bad Day in Bali

Yeah, Bali is a tough place to vacation. Not much to see, little to do, it's pretty awful. I wouldn't recommend it. I think I'll take an early flight home. Or maybe just go sit in a dark room for the next few days. I don't think I can endure much more of this...

My Horrible Day in Bali

It's been a rough day here in Amed, Bali. I didn't have my alarm clock to wake me up at my normal 6:15 rising time, so I had to sleep until I woke up on my own. Distressing. I then had to open the curtains and gaze out over the infinity pool overlooking the Bali Sea. The sun was so bright, it hurt my eyes. I had to squint. That put me in a really foul mood. There was nothing to do but walk past the pool to the restaurant to eat my breakfast. It took me 45 seconds to get there. That was terrible. I then had to wait for someone to make me an omelette. That took another three minutes, and I only had freshly blended pineapple juice to drink while I was waiting. Awful. I really was grumpy by then, and didn't feel like doing much, so I sulked by the pool all day. The only view was the blue, blue ocean, some palm trees and the occasional sailing boat. Boring. I dragged myself back to the restaurant for lunch. There were only a few choices for dessert. I had to settle for the mango crumble with melting ice cream. Melting, can you imagine? I was feeling a little tired and depressed after such a disappointing lunch, so I walked the 30 feet back to my poolside lounger and took a little cat nap. Then I got back in the pool and looked at the ocean hoping that would lift my spirits. It made little difference. I decided that maybe what I needed was a little walk to change things up. So I wandered down the road from the hotel to the beach. There were pigs and chickens and cows and fishermen and outrigger canoes, things one wouldn't want to look at unless they had to. I could only take so much of it and decided that maybe what I really needed was dinner. So, I walked back up the hill to the hotel where there was Balinese cuisine waiting for me. Too much coconut milk, to many spices. You would never want to eat such a dinner unless you didn't have any other options. Oh well. It was a colossal waste of a day. I hope tomorrow is a little better. I'm not sure I can handle another one of these.