Shortly after coming to Taiwan, I began to realize just how many people disfavor Americans. It's not the Taiwanese, though; they love Americans, God knows why. It's just everybody else, especially Canadians. We Americans always call them our friends up north, little do we know just how deeply ingrained this enmity towards us is. One Canadian friend told me that when he was young, while watching the Olympics, his grandfather would make him to cheer for the Russians rather than the Americans. "Go Russians!"
Another Canadian friend was telling me how these guys in her Chinese class were being vulgar by constantly asking the teacher how to say dirty words and generally just acting really coarse. Then she added, "And they're not even Americans. They're Canadians. I'm so ashamed!" You mean, there aren't any rude, disrespectful people in your country? Wow, that must be nice.
People don't just come out and say they hate Americans. They're little comments like these.
In the prep room I'll sit through extensive discussions of when the American empire will crumble.
Yesterday afternoon while having lunch, another guy from Europe was denouncing American book publishers for changing the British English in Harry Potter to American English and producers for trying to make an American version of the popular British sitcom The Office. The two Americans sitting at the table, including myself, squirmed uncomfortably in out seats.
Now, don't get me wrong; I have plenty fun criticizing my country. I went half way across the world and spent a lot of money to vote this damn president out of office. The thing that irritates me is that people will snivel about America much more than any other country, including their own. They make excuses like, "Oh it's not Americans we hate, it's the politics" or "It's because America is so rich and the most powerful country in the world." Yes, of course, that makes things much more justified. And, come on, there aren't enough, bad things about your country for you to complain about. Give me a break.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Kojen Policy
Taipei has entered monsoon season which means it can pour all day, everyday, for days on end. When it's not raining, it's hot and humid, so much so that when you step out of your door you are instantly covered with sweat that doesn't seem to want to evaporate until you make it to another air conditioned location which, in my case, is usually work.
Kojen now has a new dress code policy which specifically states that teachers in the children's department cannot wear shorts, tank tops, sandals, etc. I think I broke most of the most of the rules yesterday. I figured I would rather have my manager give me talk than soak my clothes through with sweat. No one mentioned anything so I think I'm going to go on preferring my choice of clothing until they tell me that I have to go home and change. The thing that gets me is that they allow teachers to wear jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers. How is that more professional than a pair of khaki shorts and a plain sleeveless top? Not to mention there are female teachers, we won't mention any names but we know who they are, who wear jeans so low that it's surprising that pubic hair isn't showing, and others who wear shirts with sexually explicit material while teaching six year olds. There should be a rule that says that jeans which go down to the crotch should not be allowed.
Lately, I've been getting more and more fed up with this school. There are specific guidelines clearly stated in print that we are supposed to get an annual bonus after about 1000 hours of work, a raise if we've worked a few hundred hours, and a return rate bonus if 90% of our students come back to study after each session. Teachers don't get the money unless you ask about it. I wouldn't have gotten my bonus if I hadn't incessantly asked Queena, the Children's Department manager, to add up my hours. And each time, it seemed like I was putting her out by asking to do her job. I think I went to her office every other day for about a month, and each time she would chuckle, "Ha ha, not yet." It's the same, if you want to inquire about a raise. Actually, most teachers don't even know about it. Last year when my old Director Jane was working at our school she showed me the pay raise chart for children's teachers. I asked if could make a copy of it. "Sure!" A year later I was talking to some co-workers about this topic and I was surprised to discover, most of the teachers were not only unclear about the number of hours one must accumulate, but had never heard a thing about it. I thought I would be doing a service by posting it up on the bulletin board. A few days later, it mysteriously disappeared. Teachers wondered and complained saying that it was important. So I put another one up. Then that one was taken down as well. We found out that it was the Adult Department director who took this one down. It's these little things that I hate about this company. They try to nip every last penny from you. As for the return rate bonus, you can forget about that. It doesn't show up on your pay sheet, and it only goes through the system after several months and by that time the class that you taught has been over for months. There's no way to track it. This is what the company is counting on, that you lose track about your money and that we all just forget about it. Kojen steals thousands of dollars from teachers every year.
I could go on and on ranting about Kojen but there are good things too. The people here are all really nice for the most part. It's a very relaxed environment. There's not a whole lot of pressure, and I get to do whatever I want during the day time, like write in my blog. = )
Kojen now has a new dress code policy which specifically states that teachers in the children's department cannot wear shorts, tank tops, sandals, etc. I think I broke most of the most of the rules yesterday. I figured I would rather have my manager give me talk than soak my clothes through with sweat. No one mentioned anything so I think I'm going to go on preferring my choice of clothing until they tell me that I have to go home and change. The thing that gets me is that they allow teachers to wear jeans, T-shirts, and sneakers. How is that more professional than a pair of khaki shorts and a plain sleeveless top? Not to mention there are female teachers, we won't mention any names but we know who they are, who wear jeans so low that it's surprising that pubic hair isn't showing, and others who wear shirts with sexually explicit material while teaching six year olds. There should be a rule that says that jeans which go down to the crotch should not be allowed.
Lately, I've been getting more and more fed up with this school. There are specific guidelines clearly stated in print that we are supposed to get an annual bonus after about 1000 hours of work, a raise if we've worked a few hundred hours, and a return rate bonus if 90% of our students come back to study after each session. Teachers don't get the money unless you ask about it. I wouldn't have gotten my bonus if I hadn't incessantly asked Queena, the Children's Department manager, to add up my hours. And each time, it seemed like I was putting her out by asking to do her job. I think I went to her office every other day for about a month, and each time she would chuckle, "Ha ha, not yet." It's the same, if you want to inquire about a raise. Actually, most teachers don't even know about it. Last year when my old Director Jane was working at our school she showed me the pay raise chart for children's teachers. I asked if could make a copy of it. "Sure!" A year later I was talking to some co-workers about this topic and I was surprised to discover, most of the teachers were not only unclear about the number of hours one must accumulate, but had never heard a thing about it. I thought I would be doing a service by posting it up on the bulletin board. A few days later, it mysteriously disappeared. Teachers wondered and complained saying that it was important. So I put another one up. Then that one was taken down as well. We found out that it was the Adult Department director who took this one down. It's these little things that I hate about this company. They try to nip every last penny from you. As for the return rate bonus, you can forget about that. It doesn't show up on your pay sheet, and it only goes through the system after several months and by that time the class that you taught has been over for months. There's no way to track it. This is what the company is counting on, that you lose track about your money and that we all just forget about it. Kojen steals thousands of dollars from teachers every year.
I could go on and on ranting about Kojen but there are good things too. The people here are all really nice for the most part. It's a very relaxed environment. There's not a whole lot of pressure, and I get to do whatever I want during the day time, like write in my blog. = )
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Zoom Quilt
This is a really cool web project. It doesn't work on all computers but try it to see what I mean. You have to click and drag the mouse up or down to move in and out of the picture.
http://www.zoomquilt.org/
http://www.zoomquilt.org/
Monday, April 25, 2005
Do you Skype?
Though, I've been using it for a few weeks now, I can't seem to get over how good Skype is. If you haven't downloaded it, do it now! Here's the website.
http://www.skype.com/
You can start talking to anyone in the world for as long as you like for FREE over your computer. You can also call a land line for about 2 cents a minute in North America and parts of Europe. All you need is a microphone and some speakers. Call me if you like. My user name is Pfotomonkey.
http://www.skype.com/
You can start talking to anyone in the world for as long as you like for FREE over your computer. You can also call a land line for about 2 cents a minute in North America and parts of Europe. All you need is a microphone and some speakers. Call me if you like. My user name is Pfotomonkey.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
"There's a reason why I don't have male Taiwanese friends." - Marcus M.
I had just finished my usual salad at Swensen's after my kung fu class last Friday. Made my way across Tianmu E. Road. I was about to turn into the alley toward my apartment when I saw this man dragging this woman by the arms. She was struggling, crying hysterically, trying to get to her feet and escape his hold. He was yelling at her all the time.
I shouted, "HEY!", almost the way I do my kids when they are being naughty.
Startled, he turned around.
"What are you doing?"
He smiled and calmly replied, "She's my wife..."
"I don't care if she's your wife, you don't do that... I'm going to call the police!"
Some time during this exchange the 30 some year old woman got free and was standing on the sidewalk wiping her tears away.
He gave me this smirk I'll never forget. "Go ahead..."
I wanted to kill this man. I took my cell out but I didn't call. I walked away. I looked back at the two. They were talking now. I walked home.
Thinking back, I wonder about many things. Was I the only one who saw this? If not, did anybody just walk by and ignore them. There seems to be this cultural norm not to get involved in other people's affairs.
A few months ago I was at a bus stop. As the bus approached, a scooter with two women was pushed over on the inside. Though, there were about a dozen people waiting there, nobody moved. I rushed to pull the scooter off of them. Later, one man came by and helped me with the scooter. No, they weren't seriously injured but that's not the point.
Perhaps, I wouldn't have done any of this a couple of years ago. One incident seriously affected me.
Malcolm and I were riding down Yang Ming Mountain one Sunday. We stopped off at a farmers market with about twenty vendors. While everybody was happily selecting fresh fruits and vegetables, a black car pulled up. Four men in black shirts and black slacks jumped out. They ran over to this old farmer man and proceeded to beat him. They used fists, feet, chairs, fruits, and at one point one of the gangsters picked up a metal scale and threatened to bash it over his head. I was aghast. I didn't know what to do. What can you do? I wanted to help this poor old man but I didn't move. I was frozen. I screamed, "Malcolm we have to do something!" I thought we ought to call the police but how would we even describe where we were. We were somewhere on the mountain. I said I could take pictures. Mal asked me if I wanted my camera smashed. One old vender motioned to not get involved and buy some of her fruits. What?! There were maybe fifty bystanders there. Some were across the street at the bus stop. Only one man and one woman tried to defend him from these vicious blows. I was not one of them. The scene lasted not 10 minutes. As quickly as the men in black appeared, they ran back to the black car and immediately sped off down the mountain. The old vendor, bleeding from the head got up and sat in a chair.
I often play this experience over in my head. I learned that day that it was better to do what you think is right rather than living with the regret.
I shouted, "HEY!", almost the way I do my kids when they are being naughty.
Startled, he turned around.
"What are you doing?"
He smiled and calmly replied, "She's my wife..."
"I don't care if she's your wife, you don't do that... I'm going to call the police!"
Some time during this exchange the 30 some year old woman got free and was standing on the sidewalk wiping her tears away.
He gave me this smirk I'll never forget. "Go ahead..."
I wanted to kill this man. I took my cell out but I didn't call. I walked away. I looked back at the two. They were talking now. I walked home.
Thinking back, I wonder about many things. Was I the only one who saw this? If not, did anybody just walk by and ignore them. There seems to be this cultural norm not to get involved in other people's affairs.
A few months ago I was at a bus stop. As the bus approached, a scooter with two women was pushed over on the inside. Though, there were about a dozen people waiting there, nobody moved. I rushed to pull the scooter off of them. Later, one man came by and helped me with the scooter. No, they weren't seriously injured but that's not the point.
Perhaps, I wouldn't have done any of this a couple of years ago. One incident seriously affected me.
Malcolm and I were riding down Yang Ming Mountain one Sunday. We stopped off at a farmers market with about twenty vendors. While everybody was happily selecting fresh fruits and vegetables, a black car pulled up. Four men in black shirts and black slacks jumped out. They ran over to this old farmer man and proceeded to beat him. They used fists, feet, chairs, fruits, and at one point one of the gangsters picked up a metal scale and threatened to bash it over his head. I was aghast. I didn't know what to do. What can you do? I wanted to help this poor old man but I didn't move. I was frozen. I screamed, "Malcolm we have to do something!" I thought we ought to call the police but how would we even describe where we were. We were somewhere on the mountain. I said I could take pictures. Mal asked me if I wanted my camera smashed. One old vender motioned to not get involved and buy some of her fruits. What?! There were maybe fifty bystanders there. Some were across the street at the bus stop. Only one man and one woman tried to defend him from these vicious blows. I was not one of them. The scene lasted not 10 minutes. As quickly as the men in black appeared, they ran back to the black car and immediately sped off down the mountain. The old vendor, bleeding from the head got up and sat in a chair.
I often play this experience over in my head. I learned that day that it was better to do what you think is right rather than living with the regret.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Lotto Mistake
I went to cash my lotto receipt in at the post office. I told him I had five numbers that matched. After a few minutes of inspection he replied, "Bu shi, ni you liu ge haoma." I grabbed his hand excitedly, "Zhenda?!" I had six numbers instead of five. I won NT10,000 not 4 (a little over $300usd). This week hasn't been too bad.
Unfit Mother: I prefocused on the subject before I knew who it would be. This woman sat in the seat across from me. She plopped her one year old next to her, refused to hold him. She repeatedly scolded the child because he kept slipping down the seat, "Zuo hao! Zuo hao!" The poor kid wasn't strong enough to sit up on his own.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Lotto Fever
I won! Last night, I began to straighten out the drawer I usually stuff my old receipts into. You don't really realize how much stuff you buy over the course of a couple of months. It's the little things like bottles of water or snacks bought at the 7-11 that really add up. These receipts get everywhere too, in pockets, on desks, in wallets, bags, under the bed, everywhere. Pretty soon, if you decide to save them, you're swimming in these long white strips of paper.
The Taiwanese government has installed this system to deter store owners from fudging the books so to speak. This link may explain it better than I can.
http://www.tealit.com/lotto.htm
Basically, the rolls of paper on which receipts are printed on are government issued and each receipt has a unique number. Every two months, four numbers are announced by the government. One is the grand prize number worth up to NT2,000,000 (65,000USD.) This month's grand prize number is 39907790. Then there are three other numbers for smaller prizes up to NT200,000. If you match the last three numbers of a receipt to any one of the four numbers announced, you can get NT200, four numbers NT1000, five numbers NT4000, six numbers NT10,000 and so on. This months supplementary numbers are 01454603, 01927870, and 45537472.
Last night, while searching through my hundreds of receipts, I found one with the number 33454603. At first I thought I had only won NT200 like I usually do. I put it aside and continued looking through the other receipts. But then I stopped and decided to look at the next number of that winning ticket, 4603; it matched. Then the next number, 54603. Could I have won NT200,000? But my excitement stopped there. I ended up NT4000 (about 130USD), which is more than I had ever won before. I was so excited. I won something for nothing! I wanted to claim my money instantly. There were two problems. It was 11:30 at night; the banks were closed. And then, they've got this silly rule that you have to wait a week after the numbers are announced to claim prizes. My soon to be 4000 cash is hanging on my wall right now. I can't forget to go to the bank next week.
The Taiwanese government has installed this system to deter store owners from fudging the books so to speak. This link may explain it better than I can.
http://www.tealit.com/lotto.htm
Basically, the rolls of paper on which receipts are printed on are government issued and each receipt has a unique number. Every two months, four numbers are announced by the government. One is the grand prize number worth up to NT2,000,000 (65,000USD.) This month's grand prize number is 39907790. Then there are three other numbers for smaller prizes up to NT200,000. If you match the last three numbers of a receipt to any one of the four numbers announced, you can get NT200, four numbers NT1000, five numbers NT4000, six numbers NT10,000 and so on. This months supplementary numbers are 01454603, 01927870, and 45537472.
Last night, while searching through my hundreds of receipts, I found one with the number 33454603. At first I thought I had only won NT200 like I usually do. I put it aside and continued looking through the other receipts. But then I stopped and decided to look at the next number of that winning ticket, 4603; it matched. Then the next number, 54603. Could I have won NT200,000? But my excitement stopped there. I ended up NT4000 (about 130USD), which is more than I had ever won before. I was so excited. I won something for nothing! I wanted to claim my money instantly. There were two problems. It was 11:30 at night; the banks were closed. And then, they've got this silly rule that you have to wait a week after the numbers are announced to claim prizes. My soon to be 4000 cash is hanging on my wall right now. I can't forget to go to the bank next week.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Update on my poor neck
Last night after kung fu class, I told my master what Dr. Yan had done and asked if that was normal. He cupped his hand and asked if he hit me like this. He made that familiar whacking sound.
I jumped, "Yes!"
He explained that the body had passage ways in which energy moved through. "There are points all over your body, like here." He squeezed that webbed part between my thumb and my index finger.
"D ouch!"
"The biggest one is in the back of your neck. If you get a cold (which I had a few weeks ago), it can become stuck. Do you sleep late?"
"Uh, yeah."
"like 2 or 3 in the morning?"
"Yeah! How do you know?"
"If you sleep late, that bone (he shows me) can become uncomfortable. I know because I do the same thing. So try to sleep earlier and if you have a cold you can hit your neck by yourself to help circulation. That's why the doctor did that."
Last night I tried to go to sleep a bit earlier but it wasn't easy being that I got up around noon that day. I think I fell asleep a little after one a.m. and this morning I woke up a bit earlier than I had expected, due to construction going on in the next building. Sure enough, my neck was feeling much better. ??But, but, how can this be?? I had always thought as long as I was getting at least eight hours of sleep, it was healthy.
Don't get me wrong. I came here with the biggest skepticism about Chinese medicine which is why it took me two and a half years to finally give it a try. This experience may not have completely dissipated my ideas about this form of treatment but it's definitely opened my eyes. There's also the fact that I believe my kung fu teacher may have supernatural powers. He's no Bruce Lee but he can do things that normal people cannot do.
I jumped, "Yes!"
He explained that the body had passage ways in which energy moved through. "There are points all over your body, like here." He squeezed that webbed part between my thumb and my index finger.
"D ouch!"
"The biggest one is in the back of your neck. If you get a cold (which I had a few weeks ago), it can become stuck. Do you sleep late?"
"Uh, yeah."
"like 2 or 3 in the morning?"
"Yeah! How do you know?"
"If you sleep late, that bone (he shows me) can become uncomfortable. I know because I do the same thing. So try to sleep earlier and if you have a cold you can hit your neck by yourself to help circulation. That's why the doctor did that."
Last night I tried to go to sleep a bit earlier but it wasn't easy being that I got up around noon that day. I think I fell asleep a little after one a.m. and this morning I woke up a bit earlier than I had expected, due to construction going on in the next building. Sure enough, my neck was feeling much better. ??But, but, how can this be?? I had always thought as long as I was getting at least eight hours of sleep, it was healthy.
Don't get me wrong. I came here with the biggest skepticism about Chinese medicine which is why it took me two and a half years to finally give it a try. This experience may not have completely dissipated my ideas about this form of treatment but it's definitely opened my eyes. There's also the fact that I believe my kung fu teacher may have supernatural powers. He's no Bruce Lee but he can do things that normal people cannot do.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Routine trip to the chiropractor
I was finally able to fit into Dr. Yan's busy schedule this morning. Though it's been two weeks since my sniffling accident, I'm still waking up in the morning with a stiff neck. After searching around the wrong 7-11 on the corner of Fuxing and Mingquan this morning, (there's actually a convenience store on every corner of the intersection), I was eventually able to find the small doctor's office with the assistance of a security guard. It was an unimpressive narrow room with gray speckled tile flooring and fluorescent lighting. The observation area and the waiting room was separated with one Chinese silk screen movable wall and another rolling turquoise medical divider. Upon the walls hung several traditional Chinese paintings along with a pressure point chart next to his desk. He was in the middle of treating a patient when I entered. I apologized for not understanding his directions. "Duibuqi, wo zai bu yiyang de 7-11." "Wo xiang ye shi." It was then I realized why it was always he who was answering the phone - it was a one man show. He had neither a secretary nor a physician's assistants helping him out, just him. I sat in one of the blue plastic chairs for about ten minutes observing the decor while listening to slapping noises coming from the other side of the division. I thought to myself, it's a good thing I don't need that kind of treatment because it sounds like that might hurt, all the while trying to put paranoid thoughts out of my mind that I might be one of the first patients to become paralyzed by a chiropractic treatment. It was my first time going to a chiropractor as you may have guessed. The slapping noises subsided and a middle aged stout woman popped out from behind the division thanking the doctor. "Leenda Hong!" I picked up my bag and entered his office behind the silk screen. The first thing he did was ask me what my problem was and then proceeded to examine my spine while sitting in the chair. He pushed and prodded different points near my neck. "Your right side is more problematic. It's very tight." He touched a point on the right side of my neck which sent pain signals shooting up my nerves. He took a look at my back, "Your back is all out; you didn't know?" "Um, bu zhidao."
I lie stomach down on the table. He lifts and bends my legs, one side then the other. "Your right leg is not very good." That's right. How did he know? I've always had problems with my right ankle giving out when I walk. He gave a good push on my spine and there it was. CRACK! "Lie on your back" He had me turn to one side. "Relax..." C.C.C.Crack.k.k.k "Cross your arms" C.C.Crack.k.k "Turn your head to your left. Crack k. It actually didn't hurt too much and by the end of it I was feeling so much better. Well, that's just fantastic, I thought. I got up and walked over to a chair where he was waiting to reexamine me. "Your left side is better but your right side is too tight." This is when he proceeded to whack me with the palm of his hand on my right shoulder. "Just tell me if it hurts too much." I didn't want to seem like a pansy so I didn't say anything. Whack! Whack! Whack! I'm thinking, "Oh man, when is this gonna end?" Whack! Whack! Whack! My palms are sweating. Whack! Whack! Whack! This really hurts. Whack! Whack! Whack! He stops and repositions himself. Is it over? Whack! Whack! Whack! No. Whack! Whack! Whack! I try to meditate but I can't because every time he hits me the wind is blown out of my lungs. Whack! Whack! Whack! This goes on for about ten minutes and when its over, I'm not quite sure what to think. He asks me if I feel alright. I think so considering I was just pummeled for ten minutes. We make an appointment for next Tuesday. I figure, if I'm not better in a weeks time, he can use a different method. It wasn't until I got home and looked in the mirror, I discovered the physical marks he left behind. Half of my right shoulder is covered in black and blue splotches. The pain in my neck had disappeared only to be replaced by a pain in my trapezius. Strangely, it doesn't really hurt where he hit me but it's more of an internal muscle pain. Let's see if I wake up with that stiff neck tomorrow. I'll keep you updated on the prognosis.
I lie stomach down on the table. He lifts and bends my legs, one side then the other. "Your right leg is not very good." That's right. How did he know? I've always had problems with my right ankle giving out when I walk. He gave a good push on my spine and there it was. CRACK! "Lie on your back" He had me turn to one side. "Relax..." C.C.C.Crack.k.k.k "Cross your arms" C.C.Crack.k.k "Turn your head to your left. Crack k. It actually didn't hurt too much and by the end of it I was feeling so much better. Well, that's just fantastic, I thought. I got up and walked over to a chair where he was waiting to reexamine me. "Your left side is better but your right side is too tight." This is when he proceeded to whack me with the palm of his hand on my right shoulder. "Just tell me if it hurts too much." I didn't want to seem like a pansy so I didn't say anything. Whack! Whack! Whack! I'm thinking, "Oh man, when is this gonna end?" Whack! Whack! Whack! My palms are sweating. Whack! Whack! Whack! This really hurts. Whack! Whack! Whack! He stops and repositions himself. Is it over? Whack! Whack! Whack! No. Whack! Whack! Whack! I try to meditate but I can't because every time he hits me the wind is blown out of my lungs. Whack! Whack! Whack! This goes on for about ten minutes and when its over, I'm not quite sure what to think. He asks me if I feel alright. I think so considering I was just pummeled for ten minutes. We make an appointment for next Tuesday. I figure, if I'm not better in a weeks time, he can use a different method. It wasn't until I got home and looked in the mirror, I discovered the physical marks he left behind. Half of my right shoulder is covered in black and blue splotches. The pain in my neck had disappeared only to be replaced by a pain in my trapezius. Strangely, it doesn't really hurt where he hit me but it's more of an internal muscle pain. Let's see if I wake up with that stiff neck tomorrow. I'll keep you updated on the prognosis.
Friday, March 18, 2005
My first skate demonstration
So I walk into school today, with my board in hand. As I'm walking up to the second floor, Uncle Sam (more about this character later), enthusiastically asks me if I can skateboard. I reply that I can so he asks me to show him. "Here?" I ask. "Yea, in the hall." I lay the skateboard on the floor, place my right foot in the center and give it a good push with my left. I move about an inch until the wheels are blocked from spinning by something probably left on the floor by a half day student. I go flying forward with my soup and subway sandwich in my hands, the board shooting backwards off into the stairway. Clonk, bonk, tumble, tumble, tumble. Uncle Sam screaming "Oh my god! Are you okay?!" Besides some of the soup splashing onto my pants, I was fine. I think the sandwich helped break my fall. I'm just glad I didn't take some poor kid's head off with the board flying into the stairs. I tried it again without difficulty; whatever that was on the floor obstructing the wheels, mysteriously disappeared. Then, he asked if he could try it. He gave a slight push and jumped off, "My God, so dangerous!" Completely flush red embarrassed, I headed up to the prep room.
Uncle Sam is an interesting fellow who's been working at Kojen School #6 since it opened some 15 years ago. I'm not really sure what his position is and I don't think anyone else at school does either. Sometimes I see him in the stock room filling forms out or in the office writing important things, I'm not sure. But then I also see him fixing lights and sorting the recycling bins. He's the nicest old chap who always says hello when I walk by but I'm not quite sure why he works here. What I do know of him, beside the fact that he's an unbelievable ping pong player (just recently winning the fourth consecutive annual table tennis tournament at our school,) is that owns several apartments and properties around the city of Taipei. Saying he's more than well off is an understatement. He's just loaded, though, you would never have guessed it by his modest manner. I just hope I don't embarrass myself too badly in front of him any time again in the near future.
Uncle Sam is an interesting fellow who's been working at Kojen School #6 since it opened some 15 years ago. I'm not really sure what his position is and I don't think anyone else at school does either. Sometimes I see him in the stock room filling forms out or in the office writing important things, I'm not sure. But then I also see him fixing lights and sorting the recycling bins. He's the nicest old chap who always says hello when I walk by but I'm not quite sure why he works here. What I do know of him, beside the fact that he's an unbelievable ping pong player (just recently winning the fourth consecutive annual table tennis tournament at our school,) is that owns several apartments and properties around the city of Taipei. Saying he's more than well off is an understatement. He's just loaded, though, you would never have guessed it by his modest manner. I just hope I don't embarrass myself too badly in front of him any time again in the near future.
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