Adventures in Punctuational Pet Peeves... (Part II)

After enjoying a lovely weekend, and breathing in the brisk September air, some of my tiradical tendencies have been whisked away like an autumn leaf. Nonetheless, I'm still going to wrap up my piece on the misuse of quotation marks. I'm sure both of my readers are thrilled.

For some unfortunate reason, a remarkably large segment of the population seems to think that quotation marks aren't just for indicating reported speech or sarcasm anymore. Somewhere along the line, this unassuming, straightforward and highly functional piece of punctuation has been stripped of it's crown of coherency and assigned to take over the roles of underlining, italicizing and large print to indicate emphasis. In a fit of indignation, I did a quick Google search looking for examples of misused quotation marks.

My search took me to the website www.quotation-marks.blogspot.com which, as Jennifer pointed out in her comments on my last post, is a fantastic site dedicated to the indignities the poor quotation marks have suffered over the years and across the globe. Diving into that site, I found my way to Jocelyn Noveck's article in the Washington Post on September 21, 2007. In that article, I discovered a fabulous quote that sums up my sentiments quite succinctly:

"I have a thing against overuse of quotations, period," says [Pat] Hoy,
director of the expository writing program at New York University. "Whether
in academic or bureaucratic writing, it's giving up responsibility for what
you're writing. It's a pushing aside of the responsibility to be the major
thinker in the piece."

Bravo, Pat Hoy, Bravo!! Take note BBC correspondents! I implore you to step up and take responsibility for your writing! Throw down your useless, deceptive, misleading, annoying, random inverted commas. Cast off the chains of wishy-washy, pudding-brained, over-punctuated, wimposity!! (I can still make up my own words, since I'm not being paid to be a leader in maintaining high standards in the written word.)

Whew, have you ever noticed that when you're on a roll, it's easier to write with an impassioned indignation that you don't really feel? In my head, when I see misused quotation marks, I think "Humph, that's irritating", but when I start writing, I suddenly find a dusty old soapbox to stand on, metaphorically shaking my fist at the sky.

Adventures in punctuational pet peeves... (Part I)
~Oh yes, hold on to your seat, this is going to be a 2 Part rant on punctuation. The fun never ends!!~

For quite some time now, I have cringed every time I've scanned the BBC headlines. Yes, much of the news is certainly cringe-worthy, but that's not what's been setting my teeth on edge. The overabundance of 'quotation marks' offsetting 'information' in the headlines is driving me bonkers. When not actually used for reporting the direct speech of a someone else, quotation marks have traditionally indicated sarcasm or fallacy, or innuendo. Take the following sentence as an example: Susan 'cooked' a really 'good' dinner last night. Reading this, I would expect that Susan didn't cook a thing. The dinner was actually take-out, and it was disgusting.

Brief tirade on the role of punctuation here, including a hastily conceived simile ...skip it if you're bored already....

I admit that despite my desire to see myself as progressive, and accepting of the fact that language changes and evolves, I drag my feet at changes to punctuation use. Punctuation is, and always has been, a way to keep sentences in order. Each little jot, tittle and squiggle performs a specific function (or funtions) to make things clear and comprehensible for the reader. To paraphrase Lynne Truss, author of Eats, Shoots and Leaves, if a sentence is a busy city street, punctuation is the traffic signs. Just as city planners don't go bananas and decide that perhaps a green light could also function as a yield sign, or a red light could serve double-duty as a U-turn signal, neither should punctuation marks be arbitrarily assigned new duties.

Now, back to my point...

What was it? Ah, yes, the BBC. Keeping in mind that quotation marks serve to indicate that the statement isn't really true, take a look at the following headlines from today:

- US Congress 'agrees bail-out deal' (and by 'agrees on a bail-out deal' we really mean it was a disagreement over a Happy Meal.)
- Records 'hurt' women's athletics (Hee hee, just joking. They've really helped quite a bit.)
- Finnish massacres 'may be linked' (Or, we could just be making it up, and there's no connection whatsoever.)
- Bush still 'hopeful' on Mid-East (and by 'hopeful' we really mean he's curled up in the fetal position rocking back and forth waiting for his term to finish as soon as humanly possible.)
- Modi 'cleared' over Gujarat riots (and by 'cleared' we mean he'll probably be spending 5 years in prison.)

Do you see how tossing quotation marks about willy-nilly can cause some major traffic jams on the highway of communication!? Some may argue that the quotation marks in the headlines are there because those words were actaully said by someone quoted in the article. No doubt! I have often said 'hopeful', 'cleared' and 'hurt'. A quotation mark around a single word is utterly useless as an indication of reported speech, and all it does is make me disbelieve the headline.

Adventures in an unexpected blink...

Yesterday was Chuseok - generally referred to as the Korean Thanksgiving. Traffic is usually utter mayhem the day before and the day after, as the entire country makes their way back to parents' or grandparents' homes. To be truthful, traffic in Korea usually has a twinge of mayhem in it anyway. Drivers are skillful, but often impatient and ... well... rude, by Canadian driving standards. Imagine my surprise while I was driving to church yesterday to recieve a 'courtesy blink' from another driver! A car came barelling up on my rear bumper at an alarming speed, so I squeezed myself in between two busses in the next lane to let him pass. Once he was passed, I pulled back out into my original lane. Imediately, the speedy car gave me a 2-flash 4-way flasher blink! It was a courtesy blink - the likes of which I've never seen in Korea before!!! I felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

Adventures in Little House on the Prairie...


I'm now back in Korea after a lovely vacation, and should be back to my semi-regular musings soon. I thought I should take a moment though and wish Little House on the Prairie a happy 34th birthday! That's right - on September 11th, 1974, viewers were introduced to the TV versions of Ma, Pa, Laura and Mary Ingalls...and endured (ahem...loved) the sappy, drippy, wholesome storylines for many years.

Adventures in T-shirts

Twice a semester, I'm expected to proctor student examinations. That means that I spend 4-5 hours on a Saturday strolling around an auditorium while my students write the midterms and finals. It's a long, boring day. To amuse myself, I read what's written on my students' T-shirts. Here's a sampling of what I read last Saturday:

- I love school
- I'm a tosser
- Delicious Litmus
- Thank you for getting naked
- Happy?
- I see dead people
- A cup of my mind colors
- Mockingbird wish me luck
- The sound of a kiss is not as loud as that of a cannon but it's echo lasts a great deal longer

I would love to know who makes these shirts, and whether or not the students know what they mean...half the time, I sure don't (or wish I didn't!)

Adventures in Ssireum


Yesterday was the 33rd Gyeongsan JaIn Festival. As part of the festival, foreign women were invited to compete in a Ssireum wrestling tournament. Having never voluntarily competed in an athletic event, I don't know why I decided to sign up, but I did. I was expecting to eat sand in the first round and enjoy the rest of the festival from the benches. We had 1 hour of training/practice on Wednesday, then hopped on the bus on Saturday to go to the tournament.

In Ssireum, each match is determined by the winner of 2 out of 3 rounds. In order to win, you must throw your opponent to the ground, without your knees or hips touching the sand first. All this is done in ankle deep sand, and clutching your partner's satba or belt.

Somehow, I managed to win 2 of the 3 rounds in my first match. Apparently, I did the same in my 2nd match (time spent in the ring became increasingly blurry as I started getting tired and sore) and advanced to the semi-finals, where I was finally knocked out of the competition. I must say though, I'm glad I was beaten when I was. If I had won, the girl I'd have had to fight in the final was a bulldozer disguised as a woman.

Today, I'm sore and bruised (in places I hope to never be bruised again!!) but can admit I had a pretty good day - athletic event and all.

Adventures in Purple Party Poopers...

When my sister and I were young, we used to watch Battle of the Planets: a Japanese animated series. In one episode, I remember one of the characters calling Zoltar, the villain, a "Purple Party Pooper". Being 6 years old, I thought it was absolutely hilarious. Maybe it was because I heard someone say "poop" on TV. Still, to this day, I remember that line. (To think that that brain space could have been used to remember things like birthdays or multiplication tables.)

Even though it's painted in blue, white and red, today's "Purple Party Pooper of the Week" award goes to Montreal Mayor Gérald Tremblay. The mayor has chastised Montreal firefighters for painting their fire stations blue, white and red in support of the Canadiens as they head into the playoffs. The mayor seems to have confused team spirit, morale boosting, patriotic enthusiasm and artistic expression with vandalism and defacing public property. Now, I'm sure that according to the letter of the law, he's right. According to the same letter of the same law, he could also probably start hauling little kids in to the precinct for drawing hop-scotch boards on the sidewalks with chalk. The firemen used temporary water-based paint to show support for their home-town team playing Canada's favourite sport. Get a grip, Mr.Mayor!!

I'm not even a hockey fan, but I do recognize a giant Party Pooper when I see one!

Adventures in Fine Dining...

While taking some time to poke around the internet this afternoon, I came across an article detailing the newest trends in tableware. What possessed me to actually click on the link, I'll never know. Against my better judgment, I did find myself skimming the article, and soon discovered the six hottest things in tableware since the invention of the fork. These trends are condensed below:

- Asian influences
- Wildlife motifs
- Neutral shades
- Designer patterns
- Victorian charm

The list itself wasn't very interesting. What got me thinking was, "What's NOT on that list?" In my opinion, those 6 categories cover every plate, saucer and gravy boat in every cupboard, cottage and cabinet. It seems to me that the article could more accurately have been titled "Put anything you want on your table. It's all good." Actually, there is one category that's not on the list. The author of the article failed to mention "Ugly Things Janice Made in Pottery Class." And so, in utter rebellion, I'm going to go make a sandwich, and put it on the ugliest pottery mishap I can find. The sandwich will still taste just as good, and my unfashionable table will never know the difference.

Adventures in Astronauts...

I was watching TV last night, 60 MInutes to be exact, and the topic of space exploration and missions to Mars and new Lunar Landings were discussed. Two things surprised me. First, no-one has set foot on the moon in my lifetime. The last manned mission to the moon was back in '72. I think I has just assumed that when the astronauts were tinkering with space stations, they'd make a little stop on the moon, while they were in the neighbourhood. I don't know where I got that idea from. However, what really surprised me, (and it shouldn't have - it seems so obvious), is that there is more computer technology in my cellphone then there was on any of the Apollo missions to the Moon. I use my phone to do everything from look up words in the Korean-English dictionary, to checking the subway map to see how long it takes to get from one station to another, to taking pictures of things that amuse me. (You'll notice I rarely use it as a phone.) It was like a little lightening bolt in my brain when I realized that I had grown up considering space exploration to be the epitome of technological marvels...and that somewhere in the past 30 years, technology far surpassed the days of Apollo missions. How did Buzz and Neil manage a whole moon-walking mission without a little MP3 player and a pocket-sized access to Google?

Adventures in Fools of April...

While I don't usually do much for April Fool's Day myself, I read this morning of possibly one of the most successful and well executed pranks of all time. I'm just glad I'm not the guy that got pranked.

You can read the article here: http://www.damninteresting.com/?p=955#more-955

Adventures in Mirth...

What a day this is turning out to be. I woke up chuckling from an odd dream I had, and soon sat down with coffee and toast in hand to peruse my morning websites. I spent a few minutes on Damn Interesting which my friend Jen introduced me to. I came across an article entitled "Humoring the Gelotologists" by Alan Bellows. I spent the next 10 minutes reading all about theories of why we laugh, and the healthy benefits of laughter. By the end of the article, I was sure I had laughed enough to add a few days to my life expectancy. I wasn't finished yet. At the bottom of the article were links to various funny sites. That's when I found it. It was a little creepy, a whole lot bizarre, and frighteningly contagious. Since laughter is so good for you, and I want all my readers to be happy and healthy, I'm sharing this for your own good. Be sure to turn your speakers on, and enjoy.

Adventures in Listening to My Conscience...

Early this morning, I rolled over and squinted at the sun in my eyes.

"C'mon, get up! If you say you're going to get up, you have to get up. You can't just decide not to, like a rabbit with chickenpox!" my conscience demanded.

I squinted at my conscience. "What??!!?"

I had promised no one, not even myself, that I would get up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday. I didn't like the tone my conscience was taking with me, and I realized that my conscience is not at it's best early in the morning. My slowly waking brain toyed with the possibilities..."Hmmm, so if someone wanted to convince me to rob a bank, they might have a better chance at 7am, since my conscience is still groggy and inarticulate..."

My conscience, embarrassed at the stupidity of the 'rabbit with chickenpox' bit, replied petulantly, "Well then, it's a good thing banks aren't open at 7am, isn't it. Humph! Now get up!"

I rolled over and went back to sleep for a little while.

Adventures in Cambodia
Part IV: The Government Comes to Call

A few days after we got back from Cambodia, there was a knock on my door around 7 pm. It was the security guy from downstairs, announcing that a representative of the Health Department would be coming by to see me. "When?" I asked.

"Today" he replied. I looked at my watch. I looked at him with my eyebrows raised. He added, "In about 1 hour, I think." About 10 minutes later, he returned to say that the official would come the next morning instead.

When we were on the plane, shortly before landing in Seoul, we had been asked to fill out custom's declaration and health cards. Since I didn't want to risk a hefty fine, or 5 years in prison, (as the card said I would if I lied), I dutifully checked the boxes that said I had had vomiting and diarrhea in the past 10 days. Annelie also checked one of the boxes because she has also had traveler's diarrhea. [This is more than you wanted to know about our trip, isn't it?] When we got the the airport, the heath official asked me about it and I told him it was just food poisoning, and we went on our merry way.

That's how, 3 days later, I found myself in my bathroom with a sterile swab in my hand, being asked to prove to the waiting government official that I didn't have cholera. How embarrassing.

Adventures in Cambodia
Part III: Phnom Penh

After a bit of a rough start in Phnom Penh, things quickly improved after a good night's sleep and a packet of re-hydration salts. I wasn't confident enough the next morning to join the pre-TESOL conference education tour though, and sent Jen in my stead. Tracy had returned to Korea the night before, so I slept most of the morning. By the time Jen and Annelie returned from the tour, I was feeling healthy and hungry.

On Saturday, while Jen was attending the first day of the conference, Annelie and I went to check out the Central Market. Built in the mid 1930's, it's a big yellow art-deco building housing an abundance of clothes, flowers, silver, electronics, etc. It was also HOT inside, so we didn't stay long. Instead, we spent the afternoon reading by the pool until Jen got back and the three of us went in search of yet another gem of a restaurant.

On Sunday, all three of us headed to the National Institute of Education for the last day of the CamTESOL conference. I hadn't realized that Sunday was only a 1/2 day, so I only had a chance to attend two sessions. The first one wasn't helpful for me at all, which is unfortunate, since "Cartoons in the Classroom" had seemed promising. However, the presentation contained mostly things I'd already tried and hadn't had much success with. I had been hoping for some new suggestions. The next session was much better though, and gave some good, solid, practical tips for teaching conversation in a large class. Some of the suggestions were techniques I already use, but there were also some ideas I'm going to try this semester.

After the conference, we discovered a nearby Indian restaurant that served quite possibly the 2nd best Indian meal I can remember. (The best was in Singapore). I was SO happy to be on vacation in a tropical country and have a healthy enough stomach that I could even enjoy some Paneer Korma and Aloo Pulao.

With the conference behind us, the next day was spent on the "must see" of all tourists to the capital. Often, as we were riding our bikes through the countryside, I couldn't help but imagine the country at war 30 years ago. Even so, books I've read and movies I've watched didn't prepare me for our tour of the Killing Fields and the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. When we arrived, we were taken through the area by a guide, but then, difficult as it was, we chose to go through again quietly on our own. [I've been sitting here staring at my screen now for a few minutes, unsure of how to continue.] The atrocities of the PolPot regime have always sickened me, but until that moment, it had always been somewhat remote. Now, I could picture the faces of people I'd met in Cambodia, and the horror of those years suddenly became much more real. It was a rough day, to say the least.

The next two days were basically spent finishing up our trip. We went the the National Museum, which, like most Asian museums I've been to, was more a cause of frustration than pleasure for me. You all know I adore museums; I can gaze at the artifacts and envision their parts in history before they were encased in glass. I can imagine what they were like before, and how they were a part of someone's life. I have trouble doing that in Asian museums. In part, the objects are really foreign to me, and I have trouble putting them in context. This hurdle could be overcome with adequate signs and descriptions. However, museums in this part of the world seem to think that "This xxx is 12cm long and weighs 28grams. It was made during the reign of King xxx." Fill in the xxx's with a word you don't know, and the name of a King you've never heard of. That's about as helpful as it gets. By the time we left the museum and went to the Royal Palace, I was making up my own stories about what things were. I'm sure that the Ho Preah Khan or Samritvimean ( an ornate building on the palace grounds) has a noble purpose, but it will forever be etched in my mind as the "Building to store the royal lime-paste pot collection", because that's what happens when you leave me to my own devices. If I could go back in time and re-do my conversation with my high school guidance counsellor, I think I'd tell him I want to be a Curator-at-Large for Asian museums.

Oopsy-daisy. I seem to have taken a left turn at the corner of Irrelevant Lane and Rambling Road and wound up in the middle of Digression Gorge. My apologies.

Hm, it seems like I'm almost done anyway. We spent a bit more time at the markets, and the grocery store (I love visiting grocery stores in foreign countries!) and beside the pool. Before we knew it, we were zipping up our suitcases, Annelie and I were bidding adieu to Jen and boarding a plane bound for Korea.

Do not despair, dear readers. The adventure isn't quite over yet. There's a post-script yet to come. Stay tuned for Part IV: A Government Official Comes to Call.

Adventures in Cambodia
Part II: Shihanoukville

[I forgot to mention that after our 3 days of cycling in Siem Reap, we spent an extra day there relaxing, and visited a silk farm which was very interesting and informative. It's part of an initiative to preserve Khmer artistic traditions, provide skills training and fair working conditions in rural areas. I have some photos of the whole process, so if you're interested in 'em, let me know.]

Early Saturday morning, we boarded a bus for a loooong day, but between dozing and being mesmerized by the scenery passing outside the window, it wasn't so bad. We finally arrived in Shihanoukville around 6:30pm and headed to our arranged accommodation, which we thought was 2 bungalows. Instead, we wound up with 1 hotel room. The next day, we did a little searching and found a lovely place right on the beach that had a 4-bed room, so we could all stay together. That afternoon, we went for a walk to explore our environs, and came across Scuba Nation. The next thing I know, I'm in a swimming pool wearing a tank on my back and flippers on my feet...and enjoying myself! I signed up with Jen and Annelie to go on a full-day scuba adventure on Tuesday.

Before going scuba diving though, we had also arranged to go snorkeling for $10 through our hotel. The BBQ fish-on-the-beach lunch that was provided made the trip worthwhile. The rest was, ah, let's just say it was memorable. We started the day wading out into the surf to climb aboard the swaying boat. We puttered our way out to sea, and the captain pulled up near an island and just stopped the boat. We selected our masks and snorkels from a bag of badly battered gear, and, along with the rest of the passengers, just jumped off the boat and started looking under the water trying to see some aquatic life. In about 2 minutes time, I realized that the current seemed awfully strong. I had my face underwater, and was swimming forward...but according to the rock below me, I was actually moving backwards. I looked up and realized that the boat was now very far away. I gave up looking for sea life, and started swimming back towards the boat. Annelie, Jen and Tracy were nearby, and we all noticed our dilemma around the same time. We all started swimming for all we were worth. Annelie and I, both hampered by our life jackets, were getting nowhere. Tracy (a very strong swimmer, by the way), was hampered by her broken mask and snorkel and wasn't faring much better. Jen, swimming flat out for maybe 20+ minutes finally made it back to the boat, and got him to come and pick us up. In the meantime, the three of us huddled together, had given up trying to swim, and were bobbing along towards Vietnam. The boat finally came to fetch us, and we spent the next 2 hours lying in a hammock on a beach while lunch was prepared and eaten. (That, I think, was the best part of the day.)

What a difference a day makes. The next day we left our snorkel experience behind us and headed out to sea again. This time, we were on much larger boat, and went much farther afield. (asea?) We went on two dives (with lunch in between) and I absolutely loved every minute of it. (Except when I thought that maybe we had lost Annelie, but we didn't. Not really.) According to more experienced divers, visibility wasn't that great, since it was a windy day, and the bottom was getting churned up. However, since I was just so excited to be breathing underwater, I didn't mind. While I saw some pretty blue fish, and some brown ones, and some coral, I mostly just tried to make sure I could still see my diving instructor. He was awfully patient and handsome, so I wasn't all that interested in the fish anyway. (Just kidding, the fish were nice too.) Anyway, you can see from the picture that I had a great time. I couldn't wipe that grin off my face for the rest of the day. I finally found a watersport that I can do without getting a sunburn or sunstroke, and allows me to hang-out on a boat for hours getting to and from the dive site! It's ideal.

The next day, we just kicked around on the beach and did a little exploring. We also got to know Ha and Han better. They were two women who worked on the beach during the day offering massages, threading, manicures, pedicures, etc. We had met them a few days earlier, and when business was slow, they would come and talk with us for a while. We chatted with them and saw pictures of their kids and shared some laughs. For the most part, the Cambodians and the tourists move in very different, very separate spheres. It was nice to spend some time interacting with some Cambodian women about my age.

The following day, our bus left Shihanoukville around 2pm. Around 1:30, my stomach started feeling a little queasy. Just a little. Around 1:59 it was definitely getting worse. 10 minutes after the bus pulled away from the station, the chicken sandwich I'd had that morning struck back with a vengeance. I'll spare you the details of the next 4 hours, but I will let you know that (a) I'm glad we spent the extra $2 for a bus with a bathroom on it, (b) I sincerely apologize to the other 39 passengers on board, and (c) it's a good thing the hostess on the bus came armed with a full can of air freshener.

That was the condition I was in upon our arrival in Phnom Penh and was led, carried, steered, and ushered to the hotel by my helpful and sympathetic friends.

Adventures in Cambodia
Part I: Siem Reap

Our time in Siem Reap was in itself almost two vacations in one. On one hand, we spent our evenings enjoying the lush gardens at our hotel, open-air restaurants (with delicious food and even delicious-er ambiance), and trolling through the various markets. (This is the view from our hotel window. Try and imagine the sound of a little fountain, and a cool breeze along with it.) On the other hand, we spent our days cycling and cycling and cycling, until POOF an ancient temple would emerge from the jungle and need to be explored.

Our first day, the cycling was almost luxurious. We started off early in the morning (with our cycling guide) along broad, flat, tree lined avenues. I settled into my saddle, ready for a long ride when we came to a T-junction, and huge stone walls and faces (and small, very lively monkeys) emerged from behind the trees. That day, I never did feel like we cycled very far. We did tour through Ta Prohm (aka the Tomb Raider Temple) with the huge tree roots enveloping the massive stones, Angkor Thom (with the big stone 4-sided face), and finally, Angkor Wat itself. Our temple guide was very knowledgeable, although we had some trouble tuning our ears to his accent, and deciphering a litany of unfamiliar Hindu, Buddhist, and Khmer names. Eventually, I gave up trying to remember if such-and-such a temple was built by King Jayavarman VII, and dedicated to Vishnu, or if it was built by King Suryavarman II and dedicated to Shiva, or if it was actually dedicated to Buddha, but later had all the Buddha's chiseled off by a Hindu preferring king. Instead, I turned my attention to the exquisite details of the carving, and the realization that I was actually standing in the jungle temples of Cambodia.

Our second day of cycling took us far from the cool, breezy boulevards of the previous day, and out along the tourist forsaken backroads of Cambodia. It will remain in my memory as one of the most unique bike rides of my life. We cycled for hours along long, flat, dusty, grimy, gritty, hot, unpaved roads. I loved every minute of it. Cars were few and far between, but wooden houses built high on stilts were not. Shade was sparse, but the landscape was stunning. Not a tourist (or tourist shop) was to be seen, but children all along the route would come running out from under their houses to smile shyly, say hello, or even high-five us as we rode past. I was sure that by the end of 20 minutes cycling in that heat and beating sun I would be curled up in the ditch suffering from heat stroke - but after 1 or 2 or even 3 hours ( I didn't wear my watch, so I really don't know how long it took us to cycle 30 or 40km) I still felt great, and never once muttered nasty things under my breath about Annelie making me cycle all over Cambodia in the blazing sun. That day, at the end of our journey, we visited Bantay Srei, which displays the most detailed and intricate carvings of all the Angkor temples. That night, I spent hours scrubbing red dusty sunscreen paste out of every wrinkle in my skin, and grinning all the while.

On our third, and final, day of cycling, we set out down Siem Reap's main thoroughfare. As we kicked off from the curb, our guide said "Stay to the right, keep moving, don't panic. Let's go." Right. Somehow, Jen managed to get a picture of Annelie and I pedaling along surrounded by motorbikes, tuk-tuks, cars and buses. I'm so glad I could only see the traffic infront of, and directly beside me. Once we pool all our pictures, I'll post that one here for you to see. (Mom, maybe you'd better not look.) Honestly, I don't even remember what temple we saw that day - I think it was Bakong. Later that afternoon, our temple visits complete, we stowed our bikes in the support van and headed for the floating village. We sailed past houses, schools, churches, gas stations, libraries, and even a regulation sized basketball court all bobbing along in the river.

Also while in Siem Reap, I discovered the joys of pepper. I had read that Cambodia was famous for it's Kampot pepper, but I thought to myself, "Right. Pepper. Black stuff, you sprinkle it on eggs, hangs out next to the salt, makes you sneeze. How exciting can that be?" Well, the first time I bit into a cluster of little green balls tightly crowded onto a thin stem, I was impressed. I've never had 'fresh' pepper before, and it was delicious. For the rest of the trip, I appreciated the black peppery taste in so many of the dishes I enjoyed in Cambodia. My sad little shaker of dull, generic, has-lived-a-long-shelf life pepper in my kitchen cupboard will never measure up.

That's it for Siem Reap. In Part II: Shihanoukville, we'll head to the beach.

Adventures in Angkor...

I'm off to Cambodia in the morning, so I won't be posting for a while. It will be kind of like how I haven't been posting even when I've been here, except that I'll be not posting from a different place.

Adventures in an Underwater Discovery...

Friday was the last day of the 2008 Daegu University Children's Winter English Camp. On the last day, we always do a presentation involving singing and dancing and props and pomp. Although I had five students this year, one of them left for a family trip to Japan on the day of the presentation, so I only had 4 little munchkins all alone on the big stage. They look so tiny.

Our presentation was the song Underwater Discovery, and the kids did a great job. Over the course of the program, we made snorkels, and waves and underwater life forms. The only problem came with the line "Riding on a sea horse, that would be so cool." Unfortunately, their pronunciation, despite my greatest professional efforts, continued to come out missing the 's' in horse. Yes, go ahead, say it out loud without the 's' in horse. I'm not going to type it for you. This is a family page.

Adventures in Amazing Races...

It's no secret that if I had my pick of reality shows to compete in, I'd choose to be on the Amazing Race. Sitting around on a beach bickering and eating snails on Survivor doesn't appeal to me. Sitting around in a house bickering and - well, just bickering really, on Big Brother doesn't appeal to me. Since I can't sing, dance or look at a camera without making a goofy-face, Canadian Idol, Dancing with the Stars and America's Next Top Model are out. I have no desire to be fired (or hired) by Donald Trump, and Fear Factor is simply out of the question. Jetting off around the globe, participating in frustrating, but culturally symbolic challenges while not being responsible for actively choosing to get rid of other people sounds like something I'd enjoy more.

Recently (well, I saw the episodes recently. I have no idea when they actually originally aired.), on The Amazing Race:Asia, the teams spent 2 episodes in South Korea. It was great to be able to recognize the places, and empathize with the teams as they tried to find their way around Busan by taxi. I laughed so hard when the team from the Philippines complained that Korean drivers stayed in their lanes and obeyed traffic signals. If they were in Manila, they would be able to weave through the traffic. Next time I'm driving, and sputtering at the traffic, I'll have to remind myself that it's all a matter of perspective. "It could be worse. I could be in Manila." I'll tell myself.

Adventures in Rising and Shining...

I remember one winter, my family was catching an early (early!) morning flight from Ottawa to Regina. My Dad came in to wake me up with the chipper rhyme "Wakey, wakey, rise and shine. Tomorrow we get up at half-past-nine." For some reason, that's never found it's way to my memory bank's exit door. I was thinking of that rhyme yesterday as I contemplated the state of limbo I find myself in this month. Technically, I'm working this month. However, I don't start work until 1:30pm, which means I have the option of sleeping in every morning, as though I'm on vacation. Once I get to work, it's so much fun, and goes by so quickly, I feel happy and relaxed and ...well, like I'm on vacation!

Torn three ways between the option to sleep in, the desire to sleep in, and the desire to get up and start my day, I occasionally find myself waking up bright and early, then snurling (snuggling + curling) up in my warm blankets in that dozy state between awake and fending off angry forensic scientists with radioactive cheeseburgers. (Don't ask.) Yesterday, whilst in that dozy state, I was convinced that wake-up times should come with a letter grade. Clear as a bell, I was sure that waking up at 8:30 was a B-. As I tried to figure out the rest of the scoring system, I must have drifted back into a bit of a snooze because the characters from 'Bones' were trying to get me to throw my shoes over a brick wall. By the time I woke up again, my wake-up grade had slipped from a B- to a C+.

Perhaps I should just get up the first time I wake up, and avoid the snurling, dozing, and the subsequent mental oddities.