In fourth grade I came across my favorite teacher: Ms. Castleberry. The way I would describe her is a passionate strong black woman. I loved how she taught us and the way she encouraged us to do more. We were in fourth grade but she put forth all her effort to teach us all that we needed to know. She is also the no BS kind of teacher (my friend, Julia, wanted me to tone down the language so no cussing in this post). We kept a journal in that class to write down what we learned that day or how our weekend was. Sometimes she made us write in cursive just to challenge our writing. I was in ESL at the time so writing about anything was hard. I once asked a classmate how to spell 'news.' But the journaling forced me to use correct grammar and ask for new words. Her passion for teaching emanated through her enthusiasm every morning and her tireless smile at the end of the day.
She would often hold fun competitions in class and fundraisers for certain charities. The one event imprinted in my mind is the valentines day challenge. There was a jar filled with heart candies and we had to guess how many. It was 25 cents per guess, so I thought why not. I donated my quarter and guessed something like 1100. A week later the results were in. In total there were about 50 guesses. Ms. Feingold, my ESOL teacher, had the results in her hand. She played it off like she couldn't read the results, it was too difficult for her, and we begged her to reveal the winner. Please!!!!! We pleaded with her. And then she said the winner is...Ran!!!! She pointed at me and the whole class looked at me. Some cheered some were straight up shocked and some gave a face. I turned red like I always do. Crap, everyone was looking at me. That feeling from the first day of class came back to me and all I wanted to do was sprint away. I regretted ever taking a guess and paying my quarter. What prize would equate to such humiliation? A CD player. Now a days that sounds like a stupid gift, but at the time the only thing I've ever touched was a cassette tape and I thought that was sophisticated technology. I explained that I didn't have any CDs to Ms. Castleberry, but she encouraged me to keep the prize and share it with my family. So I went to K Mart and bought Nsync's No Strings Attached album which was extremely popular back then. Don't judge.
Another memory I have of her was when I had a severe nose bleed right before school ended for the day. I had blood dripping down my shirt. Ms. Castleberry held paper to my nose and escorted me through the hallways. She was freaked out by the blood but kept her hand on the paper. I had lost so much blood I felt dizzy so when I got to the nurse they gave me stuff to eat. Ms. Castleberry was pretty disgusted but never second guessed helping me out. To me she not only was an excellent teacher but she also cared dearly for all her students. Maybe I'm biased cause I won the cd player, but whatever. I miss her and my class. She is actually still at McCall Elementary along with my ESOL teacher Ms. Feingold. I'm glad they have job security; I heard a year ago that teachers were being laid off. Ms. Castleberry is actually now Ms. Pigford. I should pay her a visit sometime. Hopefully, she'll be proud.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Friday, July 6, 2012
Philly Adventures: General George A. McCall Elementary School
The greatest thing about moving across the world is a longer winter break and skipping a grade. I finished half of second grade in China and entered third grade in Philly after a month off from school. In January my parents sent me to McCall Elementary, about a fifteen minute walk from where we lived (707 9th and Bainbridge Street-Google map it). Most nerve racking moment I've ever experienced to date. That's why I remember it so well.
I walked into my third grade class and the teacher introduced me. She was a tall black woman with black curly hair and a serious demeanor. I dragged my broken black book bag across the classroom to my seat. The longest walk of my life. Everyone's eyes were on me. I can imagine what they were thinking. 'Who is this kid?' 'Another Asian kid?' 'Does he speak English?' I put my butt on my chair as soon as I could and tried to drift off into anonymity. They were going over multiplication tables that day. I've had this stuff memorized since the first grade. The question on the board was 3 x 5. Nobody knew what it was so I raised my hand and wrote in very small numbers 15. The teacher got up there and erased my answer!!!! WTFFFFFFFFF??? Do they do multiplication differently here? Was I wrong? What the hell kind of place is this? The teacher then wrote in very big numbers 15. Oh!! wow I panicked for nothing.
Later in the day I decided that I needed to try something. My mother had told me the day before that if there is one phrase I needed to know for school it was "May I go to the bathroom?" hahahaha, she got the grammar right, too. So I decided to try it out (I didn't even need to go). I raised my hand and asked. I can't even remember if I said it right, but it created a reaction. She called another Chinese kid up and gave me a brick with a number on it (our room number I later found out), and sent us on our way. I followed this kid down to the basement and the whole way I was thinking what the hell is this brick for? And did I ask the right thing? I asked him in Chinese if he was leading me to the bathroom, the kid did not speak Chinese
-____-. I was about as confused as an 8 year-old could be. Finally, in the basement we entered the boys' bathroom and that is where I saw urinals for the first time and toilets separated by walls and toilet paper available (mind blown). The kid was kind enough to show me how to use the urinals, not on purpose of course, he just needed to go and I followed his lead. Great, now I knew proper bathroom etiquette in American public schools; it wasn't much dissimilar from China, except you needed a pass, hence the brick. When I got back class ended and it was lunch time!
Lunch SUCKED! Now I know that it was penne pasta with meat sauce, juice and a bag of chocolate milk. The pasta came in a microwaveable container, so it wasn’t as fancy as it sounds. At first I thought they were steamed scallions. Who would eat such a thing? When I used my fork (which was also very foreign) the pasta just broke down. It had been steamed so much it dissolved if you touched it. I didn’t eat that day. Another weird thing in America culture is recess (they even have a cartoon dedicated to it). WTF?? We play in school? Wow, did I just die and go to heaven? We played tag and wall ball mostly. There weren’t anything else to do but we were pretty happy with it.
It turns out that the black teacher I had was a sub and the next day a white lady came in. Her name was Ms. S and we had to call her that. I was wondering why her name was Ms. S. I knew it was a letter in the alphabet so for a while I thought all teachers were called by a letter. Ms. S had these heavy earrings that dragged her ears down and you can see the holes being stretched out in her ears. Gross! She was very nice though. After a month Ms. Lane came in, our regular teacher. Apparently, Ms. S was also a sub. Ms. Lane had some kind of accident and the class welcomed her back enthusiastically. A week later she brought her dog into class. WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF?????????????????? This is when I decided that America is the oddest country in the world. The dog shit everywhere and took pisses on desk polls. Funniest thing I've ever seen. I learned nothing in third grade but assimilated to the culture and learned English. My ESOL teacher was awesome! She gave us prizes for reading small books and learning words. Those two years really helped. In fourth grade I had Ms. Castleberry. The best and most influential teacher I've ever had. You will learn about her soon.
I walked into my third grade class and the teacher introduced me. She was a tall black woman with black curly hair and a serious demeanor. I dragged my broken black book bag across the classroom to my seat. The longest walk of my life. Everyone's eyes were on me. I can imagine what they were thinking. 'Who is this kid?' 'Another Asian kid?' 'Does he speak English?' I put my butt on my chair as soon as I could and tried to drift off into anonymity. They were going over multiplication tables that day. I've had this stuff memorized since the first grade. The question on the board was 3 x 5. Nobody knew what it was so I raised my hand and wrote in very small numbers 15. The teacher got up there and erased my answer!!!! WTFFFFFFFFF??? Do they do multiplication differently here? Was I wrong? What the hell kind of place is this? The teacher then wrote in very big numbers 15. Oh!! wow I panicked for nothing.
Later in the day I decided that I needed to try something. My mother had told me the day before that if there is one phrase I needed to know for school it was "May I go to the bathroom?" hahahaha, she got the grammar right, too. So I decided to try it out (I didn't even need to go). I raised my hand and asked. I can't even remember if I said it right, but it created a reaction. She called another Chinese kid up and gave me a brick with a number on it (our room number I later found out), and sent us on our way. I followed this kid down to the basement and the whole way I was thinking what the hell is this brick for? And did I ask the right thing? I asked him in Chinese if he was leading me to the bathroom, the kid did not speak Chinese
-____-. I was about as confused as an 8 year-old could be. Finally, in the basement we entered the boys' bathroom and that is where I saw urinals for the first time and toilets separated by walls and toilet paper available (mind blown). The kid was kind enough to show me how to use the urinals, not on purpose of course, he just needed to go and I followed his lead. Great, now I knew proper bathroom etiquette in American public schools; it wasn't much dissimilar from China, except you needed a pass, hence the brick. When I got back class ended and it was lunch time!
Lunch SUCKED! Now I know that it was penne pasta with meat sauce, juice and a bag of chocolate milk. The pasta came in a microwaveable container, so it wasn’t as fancy as it sounds. At first I thought they were steamed scallions. Who would eat such a thing? When I used my fork (which was also very foreign) the pasta just broke down. It had been steamed so much it dissolved if you touched it. I didn’t eat that day. Another weird thing in America culture is recess (they even have a cartoon dedicated to it). WTF?? We play in school? Wow, did I just die and go to heaven? We played tag and wall ball mostly. There weren’t anything else to do but we were pretty happy with it.
It turns out that the black teacher I had was a sub and the next day a white lady came in. Her name was Ms. S and we had to call her that. I was wondering why her name was Ms. S. I knew it was a letter in the alphabet so for a while I thought all teachers were called by a letter. Ms. S had these heavy earrings that dragged her ears down and you can see the holes being stretched out in her ears. Gross! She was very nice though. After a month Ms. Lane came in, our regular teacher. Apparently, Ms. S was also a sub. Ms. Lane had some kind of accident and the class welcomed her back enthusiastically. A week later she brought her dog into class. WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF?????????????????? This is when I decided that America is the oddest country in the world. The dog shit everywhere and took pisses on desk polls. Funniest thing I've ever seen. I learned nothing in third grade but assimilated to the culture and learned English. My ESOL teacher was awesome! She gave us prizes for reading small books and learning words. Those two years really helped. In fourth grade I had Ms. Castleberry. The best and most influential teacher I've ever had. You will learn about her soon.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Philly Adventures: Firsts
My life in China ended when I was 8 years old and so did the Three Amigos. We certainly ended on a very high note. It was a very appropriate way for me to make my exit. However, a new adventure was ahead of me. The Philly Adventures series is going to chronicle my first few years in Philadelphia. Let's start with my first night.
It was December 22, 1999 and I arrived around midnight with my father. That was almost 13 years ago and I still remember it like it happened yesterday. My mother had arrived two months before to start her new job and find a place to live so she was waiting for us outside the airport. When we got off the plane and into the busy terminal of Philadelphia International Airport I clutched my father's hand like my life depended on it. America was a strange place for both of us and we had no idea where we were going. I was more confused than afraid; it was a new sense of curiosity I had never felt before. Everything was new: the words, stores, and the people. Especially the people. I saw black, Hispanic, Indian, white and Arabic people all in a matter of minutes. They were everywhere. My friends back home would never believe this. I had lived 8 years and only ever saw 1 white person.ONE. And now I thought I've seen the whole world. I felt like Frodo and Sam when they saw Oliphaunts for the first time.
We found my mother outside of the airport and I jumped into her arms, sobbed a little and then waited for our family friend to pick us up. When we were driving through Philly I saw one way streets for the first time. In Philadelphia, almost all the streets go one way with one lane, which makes it very difficult for drivers if they miss a turn. In China all the streets were wide with at least two lanes each way. I was blown away at how simple and beautiful this place was. I saw trees in the city for the first time and apartment buildings owned by only one family. I saw parks that had soccer fields WITH GRASS!! Basketball courts that actually had baskets, and baseball fields. I've never played baseball before. In China none of these things existed, especially soccer fields with GRASS.
When we pulled up to our apartment building I was blown away. My mother led us through the door and I screamed WOW! But then I saw a white lady making something in the kitchen and realized it was not our home. She looked back and smiled. My mother explained that the first and second floors were not ours, we were on the third floor. So up we went. When we entered I was still amazed, WOW. It was a one bedroom apartment with a kitchen, living room, and one bath. Nicer than our apartment back in China. The bathroom actually had a toilet, not one of those squat things, and it had an actual shower!!!! At the time I thought these things were unnecessary luxuries, haha. The beds were in the living room, my bed set had "A Bug's Life" theme, complete with a comforter and pillow (both of which I still use in my BU dorm, Dan Wood and Ethan know what I'm talking about).
My parents urged me to go to sleep, but I was suffering from Jet Lag and pure excitement. I stayed up all night at the window counting the cars that went by at 3AM and looking at the humongous playground across the street. I wondered what these drivers were doing this late/early and what life was going to be like from then on. At 8 years old I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I missed the Three Amigos, my cousins, family, the things I was familiar with, but that was 8000 miles away. But despite all this I felt a sense of freedom and adventure I've never felt before.
It was December 22, 1999 and I arrived around midnight with my father. That was almost 13 years ago and I still remember it like it happened yesterday. My mother had arrived two months before to start her new job and find a place to live so she was waiting for us outside the airport. When we got off the plane and into the busy terminal of Philadelphia International Airport I clutched my father's hand like my life depended on it. America was a strange place for both of us and we had no idea where we were going. I was more confused than afraid; it was a new sense of curiosity I had never felt before. Everything was new: the words, stores, and the people. Especially the people. I saw black, Hispanic, Indian, white and Arabic people all in a matter of minutes. They were everywhere. My friends back home would never believe this. I had lived 8 years and only ever saw 1 white person.ONE. And now I thought I've seen the whole world. I felt like Frodo and Sam when they saw Oliphaunts for the first time.
We found my mother outside of the airport and I jumped into her arms, sobbed a little and then waited for our family friend to pick us up. When we were driving through Philly I saw one way streets for the first time. In Philadelphia, almost all the streets go one way with one lane, which makes it very difficult for drivers if they miss a turn. In China all the streets were wide with at least two lanes each way. I was blown away at how simple and beautiful this place was. I saw trees in the city for the first time and apartment buildings owned by only one family. I saw parks that had soccer fields WITH GRASS!! Basketball courts that actually had baskets, and baseball fields. I've never played baseball before. In China none of these things existed, especially soccer fields with GRASS.
When we pulled up to our apartment building I was blown away. My mother led us through the door and I screamed WOW! But then I saw a white lady making something in the kitchen and realized it was not our home. She looked back and smiled. My mother explained that the first and second floors were not ours, we were on the third floor. So up we went. When we entered I was still amazed, WOW. It was a one bedroom apartment with a kitchen, living room, and one bath. Nicer than our apartment back in China. The bathroom actually had a toilet, not one of those squat things, and it had an actual shower!!!! At the time I thought these things were unnecessary luxuries, haha. The beds were in the living room, my bed set had "A Bug's Life" theme, complete with a comforter and pillow (both of which I still use in my BU dorm, Dan Wood and Ethan know what I'm talking about).
My parents urged me to go to sleep, but I was suffering from Jet Lag and pure excitement. I stayed up all night at the window counting the cars that went by at 3AM and looking at the humongous playground across the street. I wondered what these drivers were doing this late/early and what life was going to be like from then on. At 8 years old I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I missed the Three Amigos, my cousins, family, the things I was familiar with, but that was 8000 miles away. But despite all this I felt a sense of freedom and adventure I've never felt before.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Three Amigos: Last Hurrah
So you've read about the three amigos and now it's time to end this series. All good things have to come to an end. For the three amigos the end came when I left for Philadelphia on December 22, 1999. But days before that, as expected, we got in trouble with our teachers. This time it was very serious.
Some background information is needed to tell the story. It was about a week before I was to leave for Philly and all aspects of my life went on as usual (school, friends, etc.). My father had packed up everything and we were getting ready to leave China...barring any unexpected events. Well...three days before I was to leave one of our friends found 100 yuan (Chinese currency) in school. For 8 year old kids this was like winning the lottery. This friend, who had a twin sister, was kind enough to give us 50 yuan to spend on tarps. The three amigos had a fiesta that day. Food, toys, BB guns, trading cards, etc, etc, etc. I went home that day with an arm full of toys but my father didn't mind and asked no questions (after all we were leaving in a few days and I won't have toys).
The next day that stupid twin sister shot her mouth off about how her sister found 100 yuan and wasted it all on tarps. Of course, a teacher's pet told on us and we were named as accomplices. Our teacher made us stand in front of class during homeroom and suspended a day of class to find out whose money it was and how we were to be punished. I was splashing water in the aisles when I was named (I was trying to look dutiful and innocent). This procedure took all morning, included the principal and countless other teachers. In the afternoon all our parents were called in to account for their children. It was raining that day, I remember clearly because my father came in all wet and was not happy about it. The teachers caught the parents up on what happened and they all deliberated on what was to happen. I can't remember exactly what my punishment was but my father and I just went home at the end of the day. That was my last day of school in China. I guess you can say I left with a bang.
We were so stupid. 100 yuan was a lot of money for people in my city and the teachers took it very seriously as they should have. Very few lived in luxury and certainly no one had 100 yuan to lose. But 100 yuan was a lot of money and we were blinded by greed. When I went back to visit a few years ago, the three amigos reunited to reminisce on the past. I realized that the last time we were all together in the same room 5 years ago was this event. It was an appropriate end to an awesome eight years. And a new adventure was in front of me: America.
Friday, March 2, 2012
The Three Amigos: Small Businesses
In my previous post I wrote about the school I attended back in China (which actually is still there and educating young minds) and about the fun things my friends and I used to do. If you haven't read the first post about my two best friends I encourage you to read it to get some background info. Click here.
The school was located on a smaller road that branched off the major road in my city, Taiyuan, Shanxi. There were a few shops on street corners that sold toys, food, and school supplies, and there were also tarp shops. Tarp shops are people who sell the same things in smaller quantities off tarps in the street. The merchant sits on the ground behind their tarps and sell things to students (I will refer to them as tarps). Our teachers would always warn us to stay away from them; not to buy anything. We always heeded their warnings...but we bought things anyway.
There was this beef jerky they used to sell that I was addicted to. I loved the spicy sauce, the tough beef and the saltiness, but I never had any money to buy it. So when my friends had some cash we would all share in the deliciousness. The tarps also sold BB guns, small toys, big toys, race cars, school uniforms, hats and handkerchiefs. In my school we had to wear a uniform, a yellow hat and a small red handkerchief we tied around our necks to signify that we were students (as if the uniform wasn't enough). Often times students would lose a hat or handkerchief which would result in big trouble with our teachers. The smart tarps would sell these things at ridiculously high prices, but we had no choice; either cough up the money or suffer the consequences. Once a parent and a tarp started arguing about returning the hat. The tarp would not admit to selling it and the parent would not relent from returning it. She ended up throwing the hat at the guy and sent her son to school. Soon a teacher was brought out, but the tarp still stuck to his guns. I don't know what happened, we had to go to class. I would have loved to see how that went down.
There was also a street vendor a block from the school who sold shiskabobs. We choose the vegetables, meat, or whatever else they had and cooked it on either salty or spicy pots of water. This was our after school snack and it was extremely cheap. We would buy at least 10 every time. Eventually, a bunch of our friends got food poisoning from it and our parents forbid it. We also heeded their command but we continued to eat it anyway.
One of the three amigos always had some money to buy stuff. He once bought a BB gun, cocked it on his belt and walked into school. I thought he was dead for sure but the teacher never caught him. The other amigo didn't really care, but he bought stuff every now and then. I never had any money to buy stuff. I was tired of bumming off my friends for food so I decided to take some money from my parents. They kept a stash of 10 cent currencies in the drawer so every morning I took a few of those while they were cooking so I can buy a few small toys. This went on about three days. One morning my mother sent me to school and before she left she saw me buy a toy from a tarp (I thought she left already). So naturally she asked where I got the money...uhhhhhh crap. I said that I was late to school and ran to class. Never have I ever been so relieved to hear the school bells ring and never thought I'd dread the end of school till that day. When I got home my mother and father had a serious face and talked to me about stealing. I thought I would surely be punished severely, but to my surprise they sat me down and talked to me politely, lovingly. I appreciated that. So I showed them all the toys I bought, half of which I had already lost, haha. I was so stupid.
The school was located on a smaller road that branched off the major road in my city, Taiyuan, Shanxi. There were a few shops on street corners that sold toys, food, and school supplies, and there were also tarp shops. Tarp shops are people who sell the same things in smaller quantities off tarps in the street. The merchant sits on the ground behind their tarps and sell things to students (I will refer to them as tarps). Our teachers would always warn us to stay away from them; not to buy anything. We always heeded their warnings...but we bought things anyway.
There was this beef jerky they used to sell that I was addicted to. I loved the spicy sauce, the tough beef and the saltiness, but I never had any money to buy it. So when my friends had some cash we would all share in the deliciousness. The tarps also sold BB guns, small toys, big toys, race cars, school uniforms, hats and handkerchiefs. In my school we had to wear a uniform, a yellow hat and a small red handkerchief we tied around our necks to signify that we were students (as if the uniform wasn't enough). Often times students would lose a hat or handkerchief which would result in big trouble with our teachers. The smart tarps would sell these things at ridiculously high prices, but we had no choice; either cough up the money or suffer the consequences. Once a parent and a tarp started arguing about returning the hat. The tarp would not admit to selling it and the parent would not relent from returning it. She ended up throwing the hat at the guy and sent her son to school. Soon a teacher was brought out, but the tarp still stuck to his guns. I don't know what happened, we had to go to class. I would have loved to see how that went down.
There was also a street vendor a block from the school who sold shiskabobs. We choose the vegetables, meat, or whatever else they had and cooked it on either salty or spicy pots of water. This was our after school snack and it was extremely cheap. We would buy at least 10 every time. Eventually, a bunch of our friends got food poisoning from it and our parents forbid it. We also heeded their command but we continued to eat it anyway.
One of the three amigos always had some money to buy stuff. He once bought a BB gun, cocked it on his belt and walked into school. I thought he was dead for sure but the teacher never caught him. The other amigo didn't really care, but he bought stuff every now and then. I never had any money to buy stuff. I was tired of bumming off my friends for food so I decided to take some money from my parents. They kept a stash of 10 cent currencies in the drawer so every morning I took a few of those while they were cooking so I can buy a few small toys. This went on about three days. One morning my mother sent me to school and before she left she saw me buy a toy from a tarp (I thought she left already). So naturally she asked where I got the money...uhhhhhh crap. I said that I was late to school and ran to class. Never have I ever been so relieved to hear the school bells ring and never thought I'd dread the end of school till that day. When I got home my mother and father had a serious face and talked to me about stealing. I thought I would surely be punished severely, but to my surprise they sat me down and talked to me politely, lovingly. I appreciated that. So I showed them all the toys I bought, half of which I had already lost, haha. I was so stupid.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Book Review: A Game of Thrones
A Game of Thrones by, George RR Martin.
I'm confident most of you have seen or heard of the HBO series "Game of Thrones." The show is engaging and gruesome, the perfect recipe for entertainment if you ask me, which is why I've picked up the book and finished it recently. I will start by saying that the show follows very closely with the movie, highlighting all the important parts and showing very acute detail for all the characters. I also benefited from watching the show first. Some might argue the opposite but watching the show gave me a face to every name. The casting for the show was spectacular. As I read descriptions of each character in the book, the corresponding actors' faces, clothing, personality all appeared in my thoughts. I was very excited to begin the book but soon realized it is 800+ pages. However, this did not hinder my progress.
The story takes place in a fantasy world probably during the Middle Ages or even before that, I'm not sure. Here, The Seven Kingdoms is ruled by King Robert Baratheon who overthrew the previous king, the Mad King. Robert's right hand man, Jon Arryn, died of sickness so he looks to his friend Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, to replace Jon. Stark soon finds out that Jon Arryn was poisoned and sets out to find out who killed him and why. All the while a mysterious threat broods in the North and the offspring of the Mad King is preparing to come back and reclaim the throne.
What I thought: The writing is very detailed with descriptions of characters and precise in keeping track of lineage of each name. It is at times explicit in presenting gruesome or sexual events. Sometimes a little too much detail is shared. But this is part of why I liked it so much, the unapologetic style of writing that is able to paint a picture in your mind as you read each word. When the author describes the mountains, the plains and the king's city my mind creates worlds based on the words, almost like Inception when DiCaprio created his own world with his wife. It's almost like I'm directing my own movie based on the book and creating landscapes as I see fit. A great book can free the mind. Overall the book is wonderfully written and the action is nonstop. I had a hard time putting down the book at chapter ends but loved the exhilaration of picking it back up and reading on.
I’ve gotten a lot of views from searches for ‘Christian reviews of Game of Thrones’ so: With respect to Christian themes being portrayed in the book, I believe it was present in some parts but to say that this book is purposely written for a religious audience is at best a stretch and at worst dead wrong. That being said, I believe there are Christian themes like the obvious unknown evil that broods beyond The Wall. To me The Wall is something that blocks people from things of the past: Evil things that used to be relevant but no longer are. They are easily blocked away; out of sight and out of mind. This could represent sin and humans’ desire to escape it. They build a wall to block it away but don’t realize that sin cannot be caged. This is evident through the unending feuds, war, hatred and rivalry displayed in King’s Landing and elsewhere. While the focus of the people turn to their own desires they are blinded of the sin that they have blocked away, but is rising yet again. This is the most I could get out of the book so far, and the comparison is a stretch. However, this is only book one. Perhaps as more of the story is unveiled we will see more clearly what George Martin is getting at.
I'm confident most of you have seen or heard of the HBO series "Game of Thrones." The show is engaging and gruesome, the perfect recipe for entertainment if you ask me, which is why I've picked up the book and finished it recently. I will start by saying that the show follows very closely with the movie, highlighting all the important parts and showing very acute detail for all the characters. I also benefited from watching the show first. Some might argue the opposite but watching the show gave me a face to every name. The casting for the show was spectacular. As I read descriptions of each character in the book, the corresponding actors' faces, clothing, personality all appeared in my thoughts. I was very excited to begin the book but soon realized it is 800+ pages. However, this did not hinder my progress.
The story takes place in a fantasy world probably during the Middle Ages or even before that, I'm not sure. Here, The Seven Kingdoms is ruled by King Robert Baratheon who overthrew the previous king, the Mad King. Robert's right hand man, Jon Arryn, died of sickness so he looks to his friend Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, to replace Jon. Stark soon finds out that Jon Arryn was poisoned and sets out to find out who killed him and why. All the while a mysterious threat broods in the North and the offspring of the Mad King is preparing to come back and reclaim the throne.
What I thought: The writing is very detailed with descriptions of characters and precise in keeping track of lineage of each name. It is at times explicit in presenting gruesome or sexual events. Sometimes a little too much detail is shared. But this is part of why I liked it so much, the unapologetic style of writing that is able to paint a picture in your mind as you read each word. When the author describes the mountains, the plains and the king's city my mind creates worlds based on the words, almost like Inception when DiCaprio created his own world with his wife. It's almost like I'm directing my own movie based on the book and creating landscapes as I see fit. A great book can free the mind. Overall the book is wonderfully written and the action is nonstop. I had a hard time putting down the book at chapter ends but loved the exhilaration of picking it back up and reading on.
I’ve gotten a lot of views from searches for ‘Christian reviews of Game of Thrones’ so: With respect to Christian themes being portrayed in the book, I believe it was present in some parts but to say that this book is purposely written for a religious audience is at best a stretch and at worst dead wrong. That being said, I believe there are Christian themes like the obvious unknown evil that broods beyond The Wall. To me The Wall is something that blocks people from things of the past: Evil things that used to be relevant but no longer are. They are easily blocked away; out of sight and out of mind. This could represent sin and humans’ desire to escape it. They build a wall to block it away but don’t realize that sin cannot be caged. This is evident through the unending feuds, war, hatred and rivalry displayed in King’s Landing and elsewhere. While the focus of the people turn to their own desires they are blinded of the sin that they have blocked away, but is rising yet again. This is the most I could get out of the book so far, and the comparison is a stretch. However, this is only book one. Perhaps as more of the story is unveiled we will see more clearly what George Martin is getting at.
Monday, February 27, 2012
The Three Amigos: Education
When I entered first grade my two best friends and I were in the same class. Needless to say we caused a lot of trouble but only when our teacher was not there. When she was present we tried to be angels but that was not always the case. In hindsight, she was a really good teacher, wanting the best for us, but we drove her crazy. I will describe my experiences but let's set the stage.
The school building was divided into two sections. The smaller, older building with three floors was filled with first, second and third graders. The bigger, newer building belonged to the fourth, fifth and sixth graders (In China elementary school is 6 years). We always looked at the bigger building as if it was something we could never touch until we earned it with time. The older kids never liked the little ones getting close to their side of the school. During playtime we would travel in packs and stayed away from their side. In the middle of the two buildings was the school bathroom. It was honestly a shit hole (no pun intended) and it smelled like one. What would be urinals here in the states was a long section about 10 feet wide and 2 feet deep walled off by bricks piled up to about half a foot and a few drains in the middle. There was no privacy which didn't really matter, we were stupid kids and nobody cared. But the place where we took shits was just a hole and we had to squat above it. No walls to separate you from the person next to you. There was no flushing system, everything just piled up. I remember one hole overflowed and there was a 2 liter Sprite bottle on top of it. I found it humorous.
Our class room held 60 students, two to a desk placed in four or five rows. Before every morning's homeroom started the teacher picked three or four students to take a big bowl of water and splash water in the aisles to settle the dust. It only made things muddy and slippery. So every morning we would wait for who was going to fall on their ass. Almost every day some one fell victim and the class would laugh hysterically. I loved school back then. All my friends were there and and we had so much fun. Maybe too much fun. Our teacher was constantly pissed, haha.
Now that we have the stage set, I can get into the stupid things we did.
One of the three amigos decided to whisper during class one day. Our teacher, like a cat, caught the sound and the source it came from. She called him out to stand in front of the class and left him there for the rest of the class. After about 10 minutes he started rubbing his legs and after 20 he just took a seat on the ground. The class started giggling because our teacher didn't notice and continued with the lesson. When she turned around he was up again. Brilliant. He started to moan and bent at the knees to give them a rest. She did not budge. Eventually, the moaning got annoying but when she turned around he had this awful look on his face. She felt so bad, she helped him back to his seat and when she turned back he gave a little wry smile. Victory.
One day, in science class I felt really sick. In China it was frowned upon to skip class, but if you were sick you needed one of your friends to deliver a note. That morning I felt like crap but I figured I'd rather brave through the day. Big mistake. It was probably a few hours before noon when I felt really bad so I put my head on my forearms and soon after I threw up all over!! It spread a radius of about three feet around me and people were just in shock. What was worse: it got all over my uniform and my shoes. The teacher threw me out of class and told me, with disgust, to hose myself down. Outside in the yard there was a big sink, I got in and took a bath with my cloths on, came back soaking wet and she was even more pissed. HAHA.
The last member of the three amigos did something worse: he wrote a love letter to a girl. This action was deemed very inappropriate so our teacher got the principal involved and called in the boys parents. His grandfather came instead not knowing what the fuss was all about. In China, boys are not supposed to be flirting with girls or even thinking about girls, but boys are boys what can you do? Our teacher was very worried and took this issue very seriously. She suspended a day of class just so she can scold him in front of all of us and escorted him to the dreaded teachers' office to "think" about what he had done. While this was happening rumors spread like wild fire in the class room about who likes who. We all had a grand time with this whole situation, but the teacher found out and scolded us for about an hour. When the perpetrator's grandfather came in the teacher had a private conference with him about his grandson's behavior. We were not present at this meeting but rumor has it that the old man flat out laughed for about 10 minutes straight when he heard the news and even congratulated his grandson on a job well done, much to the displeasure of our teacher.
School was awesome in China. We had so much fun but we also learned faster than kids in the states. I knew the multiplication table after first grade but when I entered third grade in Philly they just started learning it. The states need to pick it up. I really appreciated going to school back then, probably for the wrong reasons but it got me through two crazy years. Just remembering those times makes me appreciate the toilet I have in my bathroom, haha. I really appreciate the toilet.
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