After just two days of school, I feel very tired. This must be because I just came from a long holiday visiting four great places in a span of four weeks. My usual system is not working yet but after maybe one or two more weeks then everything will return to normal.
Smiles greeted me when I met the parents and the children. Then one of my students came to me and gave me some flowers she picked from the garden. The mom told me that she was very excited to be in school, just to be with me. Small acts of kindness melt my heart while the words of the child further my strength.
Challenges will be aplenty but small tokens of appreciation and encouraging words will be my shield and sword this school year. Hoping for a great one.
As a teacher, I am privileged to have two months of summer break per year. When I was teaching in a Chinese school, I opted not to teach the summer program and ended up being a translator in a Japanese owned multinational company.
I was an interpreter, making the rounds every morning helping out the workers understand what the Taiwanese engineers asked them to do. I also interpreted for the company's president during meets between management and production staff. It was fun, spending an hour every morning and an hour in the afternoon for meetings.
When I wasn't doing any translation, I walked around looking for misbehaviour amongst the production staff or immersed myself in doing some of the technical work such as mounting filaments or operating small machines.
I learned two things when I was there. I learned to be fair to everyone and be considerate of others' feelings thus changing some minor details during translations so as not to hurt sensitive feelings. I also learned how to deal with people, lots of them, and looked not into their differences from a high profiled owner, the middle management and the factory workers. Everyone is the same as long as they treat each other right. For me, it was a great experience.
My protective gloves, recently resurrected, were reminders of my "hands-on-learning experiences".
I had the privilege to visit my cousin in Taiwan last month. She was gracious enough to let me stay in her place. Located on the fifth floor of an old building, the flight of stairs seemed so long once you climbed them carrying a heavy suitcase. Her room was a bit cramped, comparatively speaking, and the bathroom can be found outside. It was a shared facility with another person. There were litanies of do's and don'ts as how to operate the hot shower, the toilet flush, and the problem about drainage. It was very overwhelming.
When I was telling her stories from home, she warned me to speak softly as the partition between her and another occupant of the floor was just a piece of plywood. Then she turned her fan on for some breeze and out came this annoying sound of a fan needing either oil for lubrication or a change. There was neither readily available hot water nor utensils that were in place. It was out of my comfort zone. It was simplicity, spelled in and out.
I was ashamed of my frivolities and material gains back home since I am surrounded by comfort. My space is ten times her space or maybe more. I have some occasional help to do the garden and the house and a permanent driver to pick me up to go to school. My house is filled with my book collection spanning two rooms while I have another room just for dressing. I can sing and dance without worrying about how distant I am with my neighbours, yet all these for a price.
My cousin lives in peace and I don't. I may have a house but I can't call it home. She speaks highly of her family and I don't. She owes no one any money and I do. She lives a life that is simple yet well-directed by her goals and dreams. She extends her generosity to anyone despite the small space of her living quarter or her limited budget set for each month. She is indeed a role model. She knows how to balance her life: well-paying job, great friends, a close communion with God, and a simple lifestyle that brings comfort and gladness.
