Miss Savoury

Sail Away

2011-07-19T06:00:00.000-07:00

Our weekends are now packed with sailing, which takes up a good part of the day, but in an amazing way. Now that we are used to this lifestyle, I can't imagine doing anything else on weekends. Relaxing in the park, by the pool? Sounds way too bland for my taste. The routine has been pretty well formed now, wake up at a decent hour, do chores like laundry, grocery shopping and cleaning if need to, then head over to Beaconsfield either by car or bicycle, which we did last Saturday. The ride was pretty, but entirely dangerous with so many pedestrians and crazy people riding on the road! Have a little road respect please! That's is a problem that comes with being such a bike-friendly city, a whole different topic I won't even get into. Anyways, once we arrive Beaconsfield yacht club (which is past Royal and Pointe Claire Yacht Clubs), have a snack or just set up the sails right away. The only boats we are allowed to use as junior members are the tiny, 13-feet squadrons. Still quite nice. Saturday, the wind was calm, Z and I took the boat out and had a lazy afternoon, put the boat in control position so that even without a heavy object, we can still stay in one place. We drank our beer, relaxed, and swam. When we bring the boat back, if it's nice and we are feeling lazy, we would relax by the lawn chairs facing the marina, read, eat, and chat. Or, we would have a snack or dinner at the yacht club, which was what we did on Saturday before getting back on the bikes and heading back to the city. The food at the club is surprising delicious and reasonably priced. The dishes are all quite homey and unique. For a plate of lobster roll at $12, I was amazed at how delicious and reasonable it was even though we were not in Maine or the Maritimes.

Sunday we returned anticipating a mad day out sailing because the wind was strong and scary almost. After lunch, we asked John the caretaker of the boats for the plug (so the boat will not sink in water), and he did not want us to go into the water. Club policy when the wind is so strong, it appears. We were so disappointed that we did not know what to do. He suggested we catch a ride with some people who are heading out, which was what we did. We made friends with a family of 3, their son was on a laser sailing separately. Their 27-ft boat is apparently an antique from the 80s but kept in great condition because of the fresh water and short sailing season. The wind was terribly strong that day. Their son, a veteran sailer, took the small laser boat out, within minutes capsized. That could have been us. Their other son, also a skilled sailor, was on our sailboat, manning the ropes of the gibe and controlling the wheel. The entire two hours we were out in the water, the boat was on a 60-80 degree angle due to the push and pull of the wind. The father says that sailboats would never topple over so not to be worry. We were being pulled so vertically that I just needed to reach over and could feel the water.

Usually, after an hour or two of sailing, we are back on shore, and call it a day. After enjoying the good weather in this way, how could we possibly return to the madness of city parks and fight for spots on the tennis court and the bike lanes?

St-Joseph-de-Beauce

2011-07-08T06:43:00.000-07:00

Now something more pleasant. Last weekend, we went to St. Joseph-de-Beauce, a beautiful idyllic small town in the Beauce region of Québec, an hour south of Québec City. There, it is lush green everywhere, with your small church steeples sticking out from the trees, wild flowers were dotted neatly along the road, and the river flowed calmly from one town to the next. R had a trailer there in the municipal campground year round, same as about 20 other campground residents who spend much of the summer there. The campground is located next to a waterfall and creek. Her site was next to a calmer section of the river, but we still fall asleep to the sound of moving water at night.

When we arrived on Friday afternoon, I did not want to do anything except read and study French. Z went on a long bike ride and R and I spent 2 long and productive hours studying French. We constantly made fire, even before nightfall, because the air that day was not as warm as we expected. By 10PM, I could not keep my eyes open by the fire, and began dozing off.

The following day was beautiful, but we still built a small fire in the morning for breakfast. Because we were camping, I woke up promptly by 7AM while Z continued sleeping for another hour. I read by the morning dew, relishing the relaxation I have not sensed in a long time. Over the course of the long weekend, I read half of my book and am nearly done with it! Once I returned to Montreal however, I no longer read because all my time was devoted to studying French!

Shortly after breakfast, Z and I biked to the town tennis court and played tennis for nearly 2 hours. The sun, by then, was beating down on us in a muggy, heavy, and uncomfortable kind of way. Nevertheless, we were happy that the sun showed its face that day. We need to pick up our game of tennis. It's difficult to practice in a city that charges $10 per hour for its tennis court. Because we were also running low on wine, fruit, and dinner material, we shopped at the local grocery store and carried everything back in our bike baskets and backpack. We ate a late lunch. Time seemed to have stopped while we were camping. everything moves so slowly that all we wanted to do was take naps and read books.

When I had enough of relaxing, I hurried Z along for a 2 hour bike ride towards Vallée Jonction and Ste. Marie, which were two town over from where we were. Much of the road was paved and pleasant to ride on, but for a good section there, the road was so poorly maintained that I was hanging onto the bike for fear of being thrown off. Just crossing over St. Joe, we saw the pig slaughterhouse in Vallée Jonction, which elicited much lunch discussion earlier. The road was hilly as well, but a pleasant type of hilly, one that I was able to maneuver on my bike with ease. We imagined the Cabot trail and concluded that it is probably not much different except that the hills are longer and the wind is stronger. Definitely would need a new bike for that.

We returned from the bike ride soaked in sweat while parts of our body were covered in salt, dried from the heat. Time for a swim! R invited us to swim in her swimming hole next to her campsite, but the water was too shallow to enjoy swimming. We went to the covered bridge next to the campground and searched for the perfect swimming hole. Not far, there was a 25 feet tall waterfall, occupied by another family. We waited in another part, only to discover the moss-covered rocks were far too slippery for us to frolic in. The clammering over rocks and feeling our way from one end of the stream to another reminded me much of our misadventure in Mt. Washington, where any misstep could result in serious injury or death. Despite the enticing waterfall, we decided to leave it for the morbidly obese boy, a screaming husky, and a brother who jumps from the edge into the waterfall at a frequency far too much for us to enjoy swimming without worrying about being splashed or disturbed.

Eventually, we found our water hole, a secret no one else shared with us at the time. It was too perfect, the rocks, the easy edge to slip into, the waterfall, the depth, all just what we wanted to get out of a swim. We swim from one end to another, feeling our way with feet, occasionally bumping into slimy rocks that were too shallow and too dark for us to notice. The water hole was in fact located just at the foot of the tent campers' site. So when we climbed out onto solid ground, we found 10 pairs of eyes staring at our dripping wet bodies.

It was a good day and we rested well. Even though we went to bed later than the previous night, but the fire felt so good we did not want to leave. The following morning it began to rain on and off. After breakfast, all three of us rode our bikes in the opposite direction towards Beauceville. I found that to be a much nicer ride than the previous day. The humidity was still in the air and we were anticipating a shower at any moment. Finally, on our way back passing by abandoned farm houses, animals, and farms, the rain found us and decided to give us a good shower. We changed out of our dirty went cloths when we reached the campground and I put the bundle of wild flowers in a glass in the center of the table. We wanted to leave as soon as possible, but M, R's campground friend returned with his truck and giant 5-wheeler from a 2 nights out with his friends. It was difficult to watch this 79-year-old man attempting to back into his camp site with a monster of a truck. Even Z took about 30 minutes to get everything right on the dot, and parked the trailer in an exact spot marked by the old man.

We were back on the road after some pie and ice cream only to be in a steady traffic all the back to Montreal. Good bye relaxing country life!

Aboriginal Day Celebration - Célébration de la journée des autochtones

2011-06-29T11:05:00.000-07:00

Day 1 - Radio Broadcast June 21, 2011

My day began at 9:30AM, when Alanna, one of the CKUT radio volunteers, joined me for some grocery shopping for lunch because our pre-determined kitchen coordinator bailed last minute. The meals became an onus on the volunteers, CKUT

radio, and the youth centre. Luckily, we were creative and came up with a quick and easy lunch menu for an indeterminate number of people.

Back at the Friendship Centre, everything was gleaning with a glow of new beginning. The gallery looked amazing. I still can't get over how the tiny storage space boutique was cleansed only 6 months ago in time for Christmas shopping, today, artworks are placed on the shelf according to the artist and looking professional and elegant. This is one project I am extremely proud of and continue to support it.

The radio equipments were setup on the empty lot up the street on St. Laurent. Volunteers were busily setting up make-shift tents and a broadcast station. Downstairs in the youth centre, other volunteers were chopping up fruit and vegetable, putting together sandwich plates, fruit salad, and potato chips, ready to carry out for lunch. Artists came at the time they were assigned and played original music. One hour was dedicated to the youth MCs at the youth centre who had been working on their own music for some time, creating beats on the computer and syncing their voices to the tunes. Beatrice Deer, a Mohawk-Inuit singer who sings her songs in both English and Inuktitut came and put on a terrific show at 3:30PM. Passerby stopped to listen and a crowd of 20 and more people applauded after her show and throat singing performance with her partner. At the same time, carvers were sculpting soapstone pieces outside and youths were finishing up their own pieces. Eugene was very happy with the carving turnout because participants were much more involved. Some of the pieces are going to be displayed at the gallery, some would be auctioned off the following day at the mini-powwow.

The youth centre became a playground for the little ones as volunteers and staff busied themselves as childcare service. In fact, this is possibly one of the hardest tasks on-site - imagine over 10 screaming children fighting for the ice hockey table, the crayons, the paints, and the toys. So props to the volunteers!

The radio show was successful, in fact, there was no break or silence in between. By 5PM, the entire setup moved indoors just before the community supper. Tiotha'ke drummed for half an hour, giving everyone a good ring to the ears and anted up the excitement level in the room. While everyone ate, several artists came on air to sing and perform. At the end of the 8 hour broadcast, I interviewed a former youth centre worker who is now working for another Inuit cultural institution and in the process of working on his own film.

Final cleanup at 9:30PM, and we all returned home after putting in 10 hours of work, exhausted but exhilarated.

Day 2 - mini-powwow June 22, 2011

The doors were open at 10AM, and people were already gathering around the drum circles, forming a larger circle with an empty space in the middle for the dancers. The room was starting to fill up with people, and we worried about over-capacity. Unfortunately, vendors did not come and we did not have the number of dancers expected. However, the turnout was great, it was energetic, small, and close-knit. Everyone knew everyone, shook each other's hands and hugged one another. Have not seen that kind of community atmosphere at the centre for some time now.

Grand entry at noon, dancers were all lined up and Joey, a staff carried the Friendship Centre staff and led the remaining drummers in the grand entry while drums were beaten hard and loud in the background. Al, another committed worker and organizer for this event, delegated tasks so that the event would run smoothly and safely. This day, I didn't do much at all, just enjoyed the day, said hi to people, and watched the dancers do their thing. Unfortunately, we eventually ran out of food for everyone, and just sold bannik here and there.

The auction did not turn out as expected, artworks were sold under-priced as we all cringed at how cheap a stone carving was sold for. Even some of the youth centre donations were sold much less than the original price. So this is not a good way to fundraise we decided and returned to the regular gallery activity.

I suppose there had to be some setbacks in an event like this. Some of the hosts who were assigned to the radio show did not show up; no kitchen coordinator, and no MC for the powwow and auction as originally planned. However, as with all things, we always have to get over these hurdles and not let the small things ruin the big picture. Many lessons were learned in two days. Improvisation, problem-solving on the spot, delegating tasks and responsibilities and following through on these responsibilities.

The drumming and singing and dancing stopped around 5PM, after which everyone scrambled for the Powwow giveaway at the end of the day, a present for all those who helped in the activity and all those who participated. The gallery and the youth centre coop initiative did well for themselves as well, making a name out there and fundraising for the centre and the event.

Dinner was one of the best ever at the centre, with Alan's most delicious three bean salad I've ever had! Not to mention all the wild game and meat: Beaver stew, Arctic Char soup, moose stew, goose and tarmigan wild rice. Everything one can find up north during the good hunting season. Community supper was a mix between community members and visitors, with the visitors coming back for third and even fourth servings in some cases. While the dinner was delicious, I don't think I can ever serve dinner again, it is completely a whole new ball field when it comes to dealing with picky eaters and demanding customers.

At the end of the night, we all flopped in our chairs, or the floor, with a loud sigh of relief. It was a successful event, one that is to be remembered and appreciated. Every person present had a good time, even the little ones. The biggest lesson of the two-day celebration is that: it was not something made from one person, it was an endeavor pursued by many people, each putting in their respective effort, and thus creating something so amazing and marvelous. We smile and rejoice that many people lent a hand to this event, that we did not back down when there were challenges facing us, and we stood together and watched a community come alive and together.

Weekend getaway - Mt. Washington

2011-06-27T07:03:00.000-07:00

Mt. Washington - much respect

Woke up with a body ache. My legs, calfs, back, shoulders, arms, and side muscles. The lower body pains are from the arduous Mount Washington climb on Saturday - a 10-hour hike that nearly cost our lives, and the lower body pains are from whitewater kayaking day trip on Sunday. It was a fulfilling weekend that matches the 10-day multi-sport Southwest Adventure trip. We left Montreal on St. Jean Baptist, leaving behind all the revelry and inebriation that had been occurring a day in advance. The drive was not long, but after retrieving forgotten items, waiting tediously at the border as everyone else in Quebec seemed to bear the same idea in mind, and gorging down a delicious warm turkey sandwich at a deli gas station in Newport, VT, we finally arrived at the Dolly Copp campground just 5 minutes away from Pinkham Notch trailhead for the climb.

The campground was extremely nice, peaceful, and quiet. All the amenities were clean and well-maintained, none of that gross nasty dead bug crap smeared everyone in the bathrooms. The camp site itself was comfortable as well, definitely one of the better camping experiences I've ever had. The site was large, we placed our tent on a soft patch of grass, set up a tarp for rain protection over the fire, and began cooking at the fire. We were anticipating bad weather regardless of what we did that weekend. Weather forecast predicted thunderstorms and intermittent showers. The rain came suddenly around 10PM as we sat cozily by the fire. It was a downpour, and we rushed to the tent, sleeping well through the night amid the sound of raindrops on the plastic tent roof.

The early wake-up call had us pumped for the climb. We scoped out the trail length and expected time of hike, and began the ascend promptly at 8:30AM. Few miles north of the trailhead is the auto road that many cars take to reach the summit, which is highest at 6288 ft in New England. I've seen many "This car climbed Mt. Washington!" bumper stickers, and have always wanted one myself. The state park also offers train rides for those less capable. We were determined to get a "I climbed Mt. Washington!" sticker rather than gloating about our vehicle.

Because of the weather condition, parts of the Tuckerman Ravine trail, the main path many take to reach the top, are closed. Instead, after some treacherous jumping over rocks and boulders, we veered off onto the Lion's head trail that offers a less challenging path that connects back to the Tuckerman's Ravine and brings us to the summit. The hike is only 4 miles long, but has a vertical ascent of over 4000 ft. The steep is truly steep. The fog near the top had us guessing where the peak is. Since we could not see it, all we can do is blindly keep going. There were many hiking companions - many Québecois, with whom we took turns resting and passing one another.

For some reason, Z and I both thought we can beat the 4 hour average time by 30 minutes since we are "so in shape and fast hikers". But the time is as accurate as it gets. By 12:30, we finally reached the observation deck, which you cannot observe anything because the fog was so thick. While the hiking trail was not busy at all, the summit was packed with tourists, often large families with the old and the very young. Everyone was fighting for a photo-op at the summit sign that signifies that they were there. What an eyesore! Everyone was cutting in front of everyone else, with no respect for order and extremely rude. We f'd that and would NEVER recommend anyone to fight for such a cheesy photo shot.

Never take the same path twice, that's the motto we go back. So after a hearty lunch, we took another trail, the Huntington Ravine, on our descend. Huntington is on the other side of the mountain and is less known than Tuckerman. Many aim for the Tuckerman in the wintertime because of the bowl-shape of the ravine makes for an ideal backcountry ski location. Z's been wanting to ski Tuckerman for a long time. After the hike today, I told him, I'm happy to hike, but I would not hike with my skis and ski down - it is far too wild and scary for me! Huntington on the other hand is known for its ice picking/climbing notoriety. The mountain is sleek and steep, making it ideal for ice pickers to swing their picker into the ice and holding onto with their dear life. We experienced much of gripping on mountain climb on our descend. The trail was extremely hard, definitely the hardest and most dangerous we've ever done! Even more so than Angel's Landing in Zion National Park. Because it rained and the snow is melting, there were many slippery and wet spots. Coming down the slant with nothing to holding on to and looking over the shoulder and all you see is boulders and cliffs, did make for a pretty descend. I nearly collapsed and wanted to head back and take a safer route back, but we were so far already that it would be too time-wasting to turn around. The difficulty of the trail was compounded by the fact that the markers were not easy to see, when you are coming down the mountain. We ran into a few French Canadians who started off at the same time as us, but only reached the top an hour later. We found out later why. They warned us about the descend, the waterfalls, and the slippery rocks. We stubbornly went forward anyways. Another set of climbers thought we were crazy for taking the way down. Definitely recommended they told us. We were even more surprised that there was little warning at the trail head - "Descend at your own risk!" Nope, none of that.

The trail was definitely a 5-12 or however you call it in mountain climbing, where you must hold onto to grip while dangling off of a cliff until you finally found a foothold. The trail also does not get easier. After one treacherous part comes another, then another set of waterfalls with slippery rocks. Finally, I tripped on a rocks, and took a deep and hard fall. I sat in the mud and wanted to give up. Z pep talked me into continuing and after another 3 hours of difficult walking and hiking, along with wobbly legs and sore knees, we finally returned back to Tuckerman's Ravine with other hikers. The entire 4 hours, we hiked a little more than 2 miles and encountered no more than 7 people while back on the Tuckerman's, the trail was busy with tired and exhausted hikers, which gave us a sense of security and hope that we are almost at our destination. Despite our tired bodies, we flew to the trailhead, jumping over rocks and nearly running.

We returned to the gift shop and bought the infamous sticker at 6:30PM. Just enough time to set up the fire and cook dinner. Despite the exhaustion, we went to sleep at 11PM, falling into a dream almost instantly.

Whitewater Kayaking

The following morning we woke even earlier at 6AM to get everything ready - breakfast, packing up of the tent and the car, and clean up. We met our kayak guide, Liz, at the Great Glen Outdoor Center, across the street from the Mt. Washington Derby race that occurred bright and early at 6:30. We took our hats off to the national anthems (even a French Canadian version!), and took off to the Androscoggin River for whitewater kayaking, an hour away. The morning was mainly skill-building. How to sit snug in the kayak, how to put the skirt over the opening, how to flip over and get quickly and safely out of the kayak - tuck, pluck, and roll out underwater. Liz showed us the Eskimo roll at the end of the day, but by then, I was so exhausted that I had no more hip energy to roll over, presumably how an Eskimo would roll over, which is to a 180 or 360 turn underwater while staying in tact in the kayak. We also learned how to S curve it or ferry across one rapid into an eddy, jumping from eddy to eddy. Z capsized once, and we practiced several turns, and were finally ready to flow down the real thing. We went further upriver, and put our kayak in the water. There were much recreation going on, fly fishing, tubing, other kayakers, and canoers.

I fell into the water twice, on the second fall, I could not get out of the water and only flow down while trying to stay straight and keeping my feet up. The fishermen pointed and laughed, and I lost most of my confidence on that run. Somehow after lunch, with a more subdued attitude, I handled the water way better. We took runs over and over again, bringing the kayaks on our shoulder became not a thing. Z finally called tired, and here I wanted to go again. No more capsizing, and the challenge became truly fun and adventurous. Funny thing is, at lunch, Z asked if this is something I can see myself getting into, and I said no. But at the end of the day, I was inquiring Liz for how much end of the season kayaks sold for.

I'd like to get into a tough sport like this, and always thought being a guide is such an amazing work because you are just teaching people the sport that you love the most, sharing your enthusiasm everyday. Nevertheless, I'm not that wild and adventurous and was never that intensely passionate about a sport. Ski is as far as I'm concerned. What I was most impressed about Liz is that she's only been doing this highly under-publicized sport for 3 years. During the first year, she had no experience and learned everything on her own with few tips from friends here and there. Now she's a pro and can go up to Class 4 rivers, that's amazing progress! What we kayaked was class 2, with steady rapids and flows, nothing too major. Class 6 would be like Niagara fall.

It was such an exhilarating experience, definitely learned something new! $110 per person for a full day. At Rivère Rouge in Québec, there are probably better packages, but we truly enjoyed our day and made significant progress in a short 6 hour period. The sport is as well advertised as some of the others, such as whitewater rafting, which is by far less interesting than kayaking (from photos).

We drove back to Montreal, with a surprisingly short wait at the border, and arrived home at a reasonable hour. We were both exhausted to our bones and could not wake up this morning because every muscle in our body ached and screamed whenever we poked it or moved. Regardless of the consequence, it was such a worthwhile weekend! More adventures to come!

Aboriginal Day Celebration - Célébration de la journée des autochtones

2011-06-20T19:58:00.001-07:00

francais ci-dessous

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JUNE 21st & 22nd - Aboriginal Day Celebrations: 8-Hour Radio-a-thon, Mini Pow Wow, Art Expo, and Native Friendship Centre Montreal’s Grand Re-Opening @ 2001 St Laurent (corner of Ontario)

The Native Friendship Centre of Montreal (NFCM) and its youth project, the Inter-Tribal Youth Centre (ITYC), are partnering with Radio CKUT, 90.3FM to celebrate Aboriginal peoples, the summer solstice, and the grand re-opening of the Native Friendship Centre of Montreal after months of massive renovation.

Join in this history-making festival for two full days of activity on Tuesday, June 21^st and Wednesday, June 22^nd

Tuesday, June 21st, 11-7pm

Location: Empty lot beside DIRA, anarchist bookstore, St Laurent (between Ontario and Sherbrooke)

Native Friendship Centre Montreal, 2001 St. Laurent (metro St. Laurent)

11-7pm

VOICES OF OUR NATIONS, 3rd annual, 8-hour Radio Broadcast, featuring live guests and performances by indigenous artists, musicians and community members, as well as exploring issues that affect indigenous communities in Canada

(listen live on 90.3fm or ckut.ca)

*LAUNCH of Native youth hip hop and rap musical productions. Over the last six months, youth at the ITYC have produced a repertoire of songs as part of the their monthly radio program, Native Solidarity News on CKUT, that will be performed and played during the Voices of Our Nations broadcast.

*FEATURING MUSICIANS: Odaya, Ti: ohtiake Drum Group, Chelsea Vowel, Moe Clark, Iqi Balam, Beatrice Deer, Pachuco, Marco on flutes & drum, Open Mic

COMMUNITY LUNCH, free!

2-5 PM

OPEN AIR STONE CARVING, by local artists and the Mikinak stone carving cooperative project of the ITYC, plus arts and traditional crafts exhibition

5-7pm

COMMUNITY FEAST, share in traditional foods prepared for the community, free!

**********

Wednesday, June 22nd, 10-7pm

Location: Native Friendship Centre Montreal, 2001 St. Laurent (metro St. Laurent)

10am

NFCM Grand Re-Opening begins

12pm

GRAND ENTRY

12pm-5pm

MINI POW-WOW (dancers, drummers, vendors all welcome)

ART EXPO & AUCTION, including stone carvings done by local artists and native youth

6pm

COMMUNITY FEAST

Co-Sponsors:

DIRA, anarchist lending library

QPIRG Concordia

QPIRG McGill

2110 Centre for Gender Advocacy

Projects Autochtones du Quebec (PAQ)

First People's House McGill

Kanata

Missing Justice

Frigo Vert

People's Potato

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For more info: www.ckut.ca

Contact: Ashanti Rosado, 514 499 1854 x2229 (youth.coordinator@nfcm.org)

Brett Pineau, 514 499 1854

Courtney Kirkby, CKUT Radio, 514 448 4041 x6788 (news@ckut.ca)

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21 et 22 juin: Célébrations de la Journée nationale des Autochtones et Grande Réouverture du Centre d’amitié autochtone de Montréal

Le Centre d’amitié autochtones de Montréal (CAAM) ainsi que son projet jeunesse, le Centre inter-bande des Jeunes (CIBJ), en partenariat avec la Radio CKUT, 90,3 fm, célébrerons les peuples autochtones, le solstice d’été, et la grande réouverture du Centre d’amitié autochtone de Montréal après des mois de rénovations.

Venez nous joindre pendant deux jours d’activités le mardi 21 juin et mercredi 22 juin!

Brett Pineau, directeur exécutif du CAAM dit, “Le processus [de rénovation] a été littéralement et figurativement une transformation qui se solde par un renouveau et une revitalisation du Centre, orienté vers les besoins de la communauté autochtone urbaine de Montréal, qui inclut une forte emphase sur la programmation d’activités et d’événements liés à notre mandat socioculturel et identitaire. Les célébrations de notre grande réouverture seront un moment opportun pour promouvoir la culture, les traditions et le patrimoine des Autochtones.”

“La radiodiffusion présente une opportunité de rassembler les membres des communautés autochtones de Montréal et ses environs, et de mettre en valeur la richesse des talents établis et émergeants,” dit Courtney Kirkby, coordonatrice des Nouvelles Communautaires à la Radio CKUT. “C’est une opportunité de célébrer les premiers peuples de ces terres.”

Les jeunes autochtones du Centre inter-bande des jeunes participeront au lancement de leurs productions musicales créées au cours des six derniers mois pendant leur émission radiophonique mensuelle sur CKUT.

Lieu : Centre d’amitié autochtone de Montréal, 2001 St. Laurent (métro St. Laurent)

Mardi, 21 Juin
11-19h
-“Voix de nos nations” Pour une troisième année d’affilé, cette radio diffusion de 8 heures mettra en vedette des artistes, des musiciens et des invités autochtones, et explorera des thèmes qui affectent les premiers peuples du Canada. (Ecoutez en directe sur 90,3FM ou ckut.ca)

Avec: Odaya, Ti: ohtiake Drum Group, Chelsea Vowel, Moe Clark, Iqi Balam, Beatrice Deer, Pachuco, Marco on flutes & drum, micro ouverte

-Exposition d’art et d’artisanat traditionnel, incluant des sculptures de pierre taillées par des artistes locaux et des jeunes autochtones.
17-19h
-Festin communautaire.

Mercredi, 22 Juin
10h
-CAAM grande réouverture débute.
12h
-Grande entrée
12-17h
-Mini Pow-Wow (Danseurs, percussionnistes, vendeurs bienvenues)
-Exposition et Encan d’art, incluant les sculptures faits par des artistes locaux et les jeunes autochtones.
18h
-Festin communautaire

Co commanditaires et partenaires

GRIPQ-Concordia

GRIPQ-McGill

le Projet Autochtone du Québec

KANATA

la maison des Premiers Peuples de McGill, .

Frigo Vert

People's Potato

DIRA
2110 Centre for Gender Advocacy

Missing Justice

Contacts :

Ashanti Rosado, 514 499 1854 x2229 (youth.coordinator@nfcm.org)

Brett Pineau, 514 499 1854

Courtney Kirkby, Radio CKUT, 514 448 4041 x6788 (news@ckut.ca)

Muffuletta attempt in MTL - Dépanneur le Pick-up

2011-06-13T14:07:00.001-07:00

No more teaching, no more turning point (though everyday is still meaningful), back to Montréal for good, at least for the time being. I'm use this space to jot down memorable food, travel, and life experiences. Useful for visitors or locals discovering those hole in the wall best kept secret in town places that serve the best (or worst) food and things to do.

Such is Le Pick-up, a small dépanneur/restaurant hidden away on Waverly and Alexandre. Z and I read an article about making summer sandwiches in La Presse, with the theme specifically on muffulettas, which originated in New Orleans at the beginning of the 20th century, when Sicilian farmers in the French Quarter walked into Central Grocery at lunch time, and wanted to buy the ingredients for a meal. But the provolone, olives, bread, and the meat are too much to handle at their little stand, such that instead of buying individual toppings, grocery owner decided to put everything in between two pieces of bread and call it a day.

My mouth still waters when I think back to New Orleans, when we bought two muffulettas, one the real deal and one for the olive-averse Z. He hates olives for some reason and was very iffy about the thought of biting into a sandwich that was made entirely of meat and olives.

The sandwich was THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HAD, the real muffuletta that is. Drizzled in olive oil, it was the richest, juiciest, tastiest, most delicious thing in the world! We ate our sandwiches as we drove out of the city on our 10 day road trip from New Mexico back to Montreal. We nearly had to stop the car in order to scream how delicious the sandwich was.

The second one, was not nearly the same thing! You can't replace the olives in the sandwich with mere olive oil and dijon mustard! For this reason, Z and I were both mad at him for some time. By the time we finished the sandwiches, we were just about crossing over the Louisiana border, and we knew we lost the chance of going back to Central Grocery for another 10 muffulettas forever...

So whenever I see the label muffuletta somewhere in a deli shop, I can't hold down the urge to try it out - how close is it to the real thing? Once I ordered a muffuletta at D'Ellie's sandwich shop in Sugarloaf ski resort in Maine, and was quite disappointed by the lack of abundant olives and olive oil. We ate our sandwiches after we cross-country skied for an hour. Unfortunately, my muffuletta gave me a bit more than just mere disappointment but an emergency en route back to the condo. Luckily, we weren't very far from the chalet bathrooms. The moral of the story here is: when in New England, stick to your simple, plain, Italian, ham, or turkey sandwiches - definitely some of the best in the country.

ANYWAYS, back to Montreal - how are we expected to find a muffuletta in this French North American city? Well, the article essentially gave the task of making a muffuletta sandwich to five different sandwich shops, and each designed their own recipe. We chose Dépanneur le Pick-up (7032 Waverly) because the article said that they had the most traditional flavour, and comes closest to the original muffuletta. Well, we can't wait for that!

Sunday was a dreary, stormy day. Our plan was to roam the street festival and eat some cheap street food for lunch. After reading about the sandwich shop. We drove halfway across the city, dodging pedestrians, cyclists, detour signs, constructions, and one-way streets, until we arrive at this little convenient store, decked with colorful picnic benches outside. I recognized the genre right away - hipster hang-out!

We sat at the counter and I was so excited that I nearly burst in happiness! The propriéteur unfortunately busted my bubble, "We don't serve muffuletta on weekends. It's a weekly special thing. On weekends, we serve our special brunch because it's a different crowd. But if you come back during the week, we'll definitely have it!"

Instead of returning back to our car, we sighed deeply, picked up our heads, and ordered a pulled-pork sandwich each. The last time I had a pulled-pork sandwich was last year in Alabama, right where the BBQ special came from. Again, I was so iffy about how this one would turn out that I had butterflies in my stomach.

As we watched the pre-made pork package burn on the grill, and commented surreptitiously about the dirty sauce bottles in front of us, I began to worry about our choice of food and place. Yes, they played alternative hipster music, and yes the servers are very friendly albeit a little weird, how is the food???

After 15 minutes of watching the meat cook, we were finally served our respective sandwiches, each on grilled rolls, with a delicious-looking creamy spread, topped with cole slaw and peppers. The sandwich itself, ahem, was... SO DELICIOUS! Neither one of us spoke during our meal, and both of us were thinking, "Not bad... I'm OK with not getting my muffuletta, even though I'm really angry about that right, but this sandwich is pretty damn good!" It was juicy (flowed out with each bite), tasty, and traditional. No fancy smack-ons to decorate the sandwich, just your plain simple pulled-pork.

"How was the sandwich? Do you forgive us for not having the muffuletta?" I sheepishly nodded. Damn! That was the best sandwich I've ever had in this city!

So, the moral of the story is, it's not easy to get your muffuletta here in Montreal, and if you do, be weary of its authenticity. However, there are plenty of good sandwiches, just have to seek them out. 6.25$ for an original pulled-pork? Not bad at all.

Blows of a new semester

2009-01-30T20:14:00.000-08:00

They hurt.

Somehow, nothing seems to be going right this month. TGI-only-few-more-months-before-summer-vacation.

After weeks of planning and revising, I submitted the Target Field Trip Grant back in November and finally heard back the first week when I came back from Christmas vacation. I wanted to organize a field trip for the MESA (our after-school math, science and engineering club) students to Albuquerque, but the distance, lodging and food will be costly in the end, and the little money we do have is definitely not enough. The grant is to provide for transportation and hotel fees. I was elated to find out that we received $800 from Target (my favorite mass retailer). Last year when I attempted to apply, I asked the principal, who was not sure (or accustomed) to teachers applying to independent organizations for grants, made a call to the central office and gave the OK. Unfortunately, I was a little too ambitious in the amount and too carefree on the application. Ultimately, I did not receive it. But this year is different, I thought, since I carefully budgeted out the spending, planned out specific assessment and objectives for the field trip, the hard work is finally paying off!

When I walked in the principal's office, I needed his signature in order to receive the check. He knitted his gray, thick eyebrows immediately, "Did you go through the business office? School board? Did you contact the superintendent? Did you call these hundreds of people on the district directory?" I was under the impression that I was OK to proceed since I already applied last year. No, I replied, I did not spend pointless effort calling people who don't give a shizzle for our club just so I can continue to put in more work in writing my own grant.

After another few phone calls, he came to me in the afternoon and said, "You are going to have to turn that down. Didn't follow district protocol."

... ... ... ...

"Why give away free money??" was the response I received several colleagues who sympathized.

At some point, one has to give in to bureaucracy, not just feeling powerless, but utterly ridiculous.

Incident two. I invited a local activist against an impending power plant that will be build just miles off the road, near communities and schools, to my classroom to tell her story. Since we are learning nonrenewable and renewable energy resources (following the standard!), I thought this guest talk would be completely relevant, local, real-world issues, thought-provoking, and educational. Since there are always two sides to everything, I was also planning to invite the power plant people to speak to the students.

The activist's talk was during the first week of school. At first, I was worried by her monotonous voice, that perhaps students would be bored and begin to fidget. I was amazed to find that they were all extremely attentive, respectful, quiet, and few even had questions! They were understanding a local issue! They were into it! I was so excited for them!

But of course, anything new and radical is bound to be reprimanded. The following day, I was called into the principal's office like a student waiting to be disciplined. "Your speaker yesterday was very inappropriate. Too political, we can't make the school political. In the future, reference all your speakers to see if they have a political agenda." I was surprised that he didn't reprimand me for not checking their criminal background like some colleagues may suggest, but instead wanted me to check for their agenda. In fact, a speaker's agenda is set by the teacher, at least in this case. I WANTED her to talk about issues that are close to home, issues that would affect the students' lives and families, so they can be exposed to different perspectives, especially since many have no idea what Desert Rock means. She was scheduled to return the next day to speak to the other half of the students, what I was supposed to do? "I don't want her to come back. I don't want her to come back." So... you are limiting half of the student body to not hear this woman's story, wouldn't that be even more political? "I don't care, she's not to come back." Of course, I was the news breaker, fueled by frustration and anger.

What about evolution? That is both a religious AND political issue. How can one separate science and the real world? Everything is about relating classroom material to RELEVANT events so students can RELATE, build prior knowledge, and learning can begin.

Our education system, at least in this area, is completely screwed up, with creepy white men running this district and school board who have no way of relating to the students living on the reservation, who have ailing family members, livestock to tend to, clans of brothers, sisters, nephews, and nieces who need babysitting, and relatives, if not themselves, affected by social ills such as alcoholism, drugs, and gambling. The messed up stories around here coming from exasperated voices we hear everyday are no longer movie material, but simply heart-breaking and incredible.

What is the solution? Turning potential, young, enthusiastic individuals away from education after some classroom experience dealing with students, parents, and administration is the worst of them all.

I'm tired of all this. Leaving is perhaps my only light at the end of the tunnel.

First Book: Bring book to all children

2009-01-16T13:52:00.000-08:00

Last winter, my program director for Teach For America sent a notice out about free books for our students, we were all fighting for the limited spot. As it turns out, he was able to receive a truck load of brand new books from First Book, from contemporary titles about inner-city high schools to more well-known classics such as "Uncle Tom's Cabin", even biographies about famous African American authors. When I received the books, I was elated because now I have the perfect present for my 7th and 8th grade students. After teaching on the Navajo reservation in New Mexico for a while, I realized that students did not have much after-school activities, even when they go home. As a result, many of them become glued to the TV or addicted to video games. Many of them want to do other things like reading, but they don't have any book at home that are either appropriate for their age or their reading level.

When the students received them the day before Christmas Break, I got some usual moans and groans, but the majority replied with a hearty Thank You. After vacation, one of the first responses I heard was "I read all 4 of the books you gave us, Ms. Tang!" "I had nothing else better to do, so I read over the break." I was pleased that my gift, or better yet, TFA's gift to them was well-received.

This is when I first became attracted to the organization. I became a hard-headed advocate to bring First Book to our middle school. After introducing it before the Parent Advisory Committee, the principal went ahead with a "take care of it". I was excited, our secretary who helped me find student and school information for the application was also excited at the prospect at saving money in buying books and spending on other important items, even field trips.

As expect, my life soon became burdened by meetings, running after-school programs, coaching, and teaching. Even after introducing the organization and the website to our school librarian, I was still the sole person responsible for First Book as she later returned all information to me. I suppose with a more supportive administration and cohesive staff, the project could have taken off superbly. Unfortunately, we were not able to take full advantage of the organization.

Nevertheless, I love the idea of First Book, allowing every child the opportunity to read so that no one has the excuse to not able to buy books because they are expensive or unavailable. Education and literacy are important topics that our policy makers need to reexamine as our country begins to head in a better direction.

Endorse or Vote Now!

20-something

2008-12-13T12:29:00.000-08:00

We're twenty something, with nothing to lose
And we like what we say, but not what we do
And we live in a crowd, and its breaking my heart
We're twenty something, worlds apart

These are everlasting glory days
Young or old, we'll always feel this way

-- Dala, "Twenty-something"

Sometimes, I think I forget we are only 20-something, a time when words weigh more than action, and becomes an excuse for unfulfilled promises. There are still plenty of time and opportunities ahead, there is no need to feel trapped in one place. As I bare this in mind, I'm beginning to rethink my path in life, decisions that need to be made for next year, rural or urban? NM or elsewhere? USA or Canada? Fling or relationship?

Highlight of my December

2008-12-07T13:31:00.000-08:00

A run through of this past Friday (12.5.08) - Saturday 12.6.08), stay focused, it gets interesting:

Friday 12/5 - took the day off work because I have professional development in town. Since I'm gone, I let the kids practice standardized test questions. June says, "You are mean." I agreed. She lets her kids read current science news and answer questions, much more interesting and less brutal.

7:00AM - woke up, dressed in 2 minutes, went to school to pick up printing paper and a sample unit exam for my paper due today.

8:15AM - have a feeling that my certificate for completion for this None for the Road course is in the mail, went to post office, and it was there!!! NM requires all people under 25 to take a self-taught course in order to get your license. You pay for these courses, and you have to rent a video from the library, answer questions, get stamp from library, and mail everything back to get a certificate. I got the package in August, and got my certificate today. Incredible, the effort that goes into getting a NM license.

8:23AM - left for Gallup where my conference for MESA (the nerd club I run after school) is

9:25AM - arrive in Gallup, pull a friend out of work for 5 minutes, get Casper settled in her house with other dogs

9:45AM - arrive at conference site, already 15 minutes late

9:45-2PM - MESA advisor meeting with "working" lunch, we all got xmas gifts and what not. Yay for extracurricular activities! At the end of the meeting, we heard about a real lock-down at a school in Grants, an hour away from Gallup, because a kid was driving up and down town carrying an automatic and want to strike. What's wrong with kids these days?

2:10PM - 2:20PM - Motor vehicle department - got my new NM license!! My address on there is the TFA office because that's my only real physical address that I can prove. June comments, "What a sad life we lead..." This has been the fastest MVD experience ever!!! Granted, it's my 4th time there for the same reasons.

2:40 - 3:40PM - joined a group of cramming teachers in a coffee shop and crammed for my 50 page project due at 5PM for University of NM education department. Feels like university all over again, cramming at last minute. I was so stressed out today that the trademark motion of the day was pulling out my hairs...

3:45 - 4:30PM - meeting with my program director at TFA office for our co-investigation where we discuss my teaching and his observation, my students' progress and how I could improve... Finally, after seeing that I kept glancing at the clock, he says, "Why don't you finish up your paper, print and go to class?"

4:30- 5:00 PM - proofreading my paper, get more frustrated and give up at the end

5:00 - 5:05 PM - printing printing printing. Office machine can't print double-sided... I printed a book. Stapled all students work together and ran out for my class

5:15 - 8:10 PM - again, 15 minutes late, story of my life. Everyone makes their presentation about their project. Mine sucked but at least I finished. Our professor was a middle school teacher as well, and made a comment to the whole class, "In my experience, the hardest grade to teach and reach to is... 8th grade." Someone else tried to defend their grade level, and then she says, "Well, try teaching 8th graders." That made me feel pretty good.

Last 30 minutes of class, she shared the news that several faculty members in this department, including her, may or may not be coming back next year because with the difficulty economy, deans of colleges and university are cutting back funds and want to cut out personnel and invest more money into distance learning such as videos, cameras and websites... We all lamented for her. They are not the best professor we've ever had, but definitely beat a powerpoint and cyber classrooms.

8:15-8:28PM check on Casper, she has made friends with other dogs. Whew...

8:30-9:45PM Hung out with Sarah, my friend who's getting married in April in Kentucky, at Coal Street Pub, which was packed that night! Awesome hamburger...

10:00-12:11AM - Movie "Twilight" - now I want to read the book, still love teen romance movies...

Saturday 12/6:

12:30-12:50AM - arrive back at my friend's place, she's not there, I got the bed to myself, sweet!

12:50-5:50AM - sleep... zzzz

5:50-6:15AM - wake up, brush up, and head out to Red Rock State Park for annual Gallup Balloon Fiesta

6:30 - 7:00 AM - walking aimless around the field, trying to figure out what to do about volunteering at the rally, especially since the volunteer coordinators didn't show up. Finally, decided that since everything's so disorganized, I'll just go up to a balloon pilot and offer my service. One person introduces me to another group and on and on, I have a group to work with! Eilene is the pilot for their hot air balloon called Dreamcatcher, and Jeff is the crew chief. I'm one of two crew member...

7:00-8:00AM - setting up the balloon. Man, those things are heavy and gigantous!! Even our balloon, which is only 54,000 cubic feet, is massive.

8:10-9:40AM - 1.5 hr in the air with Eilene, I can't believe I'm off the ground 1000 feet, floating away from gravity, and relying on a giant bubble. It was breathtaking and I can't believe that turn of events led me up here among the clouds!!!

9:45 - 10:30AM - Packing up the balloon. Man... that was massive and still completely incredible!!!

10:30 - 12:30PM - hanging out at Tailgate Grazing party where all the balloon parties set up camp ground with their trailers, setting out food, drinks for everyone to taste. You just walk around and eat everyone's food even if you don't know them. Apparently, tradition normally calls for at least couple of days of celebration, this is already pretty sweet though. Also had a "First timer induction ceremony" where we had to kneel down on mats, hear the pledge for hot air ballooners, do a hand-free chug of champagne while someone poured water on our heads. I even got a certificate to prove I've rode the hot air balloon for the first time.

Rest of the day lays in lethargy because of a lack of sleep and a drain of energy. Still, I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS ON A HOT AIR BALLOON, MET THESE INCREDIBLE PEOPLE, AND HAD AWESOME AMAZING HOME-MADE FOOD!!! The best part: THEY WERE ALL FREE!! Except for the parking fee... It was DEFINITELY THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY EARLY DECEMBER!!

Another Scorpio Year

2008-11-20T20:10:00.000-08:00

"I used to always think I had to have a reason to record my observations of the day, or even my emotions, but now I think simply being alive is more than enough reason. Unshackled!" -- Douglas Couplans, "Microserfs" 1993.

5 and 1/2 months since Zack and I halfway crossed America with Casper the friendly dog, I have not blogged since. Only moments of inspiration like this fire me up for another entry. I look to my aunt, an avid blogger, as an example, hoping one day to mount to a collection as great, personal, and immense as hers.

Unlike years before, today has been the most ordinary day for a birthday, even though I received a sweet sweet phone first thing when I woke up from Yangyang across the globe. Then later, in the morning, Bridget and Marissa sang Happy Birthday to "Ms. Tang" after they led the students through the pledge (both in English and Navajo), and throughout breakfast in the cafeteria, students continuously yelled out, "Happy Birthday Ms. Tang!" "How old are you now?" I would smile and respond, "34... 78... 82... 16... 18... take a guess!"

Students still acted the same in class, some acting strange and unwilling to do work, while others stubbornly turning away from me because I failed to respond within 2 seconds of their question... I sighed and went home for lunch despite today is special Thanksgiving dinner in the cafeteria during lunch hour with students and parents. I wanted some quiet and my own cooking away from turkey and pumpkin pie.

Too much grading to do at the moment, instead of giving myself a birthday treat, I stayed after school until almost 5PM to grade, then hobbled back on a sore calf muscle so I can take Casper for a run on the mesa. We ran towards a fire blossom sunset in the distance, and by the time we reached home, it was nearly dark. She's beat, and I am too.

Had our weekly "The Office" Thursday night at Sarah and Anne's place. Sarah even made brownies and ice cream and wine just for me! While I lounged about like other Thursday evenings, my eyes were starting to shut due to fatigue. When I returned home, while folding laundry, it occurred to me just how tired I was from the day and from the week.

Earlier in the week, I had an emotional and memorable conversation with a parent, the end of which was me crying my eyes out and jokingly pleading to her to not tell her son about this scene. As it turns out, my new attitude this year that this is simply a job, rather than a responsibility to serve, has caused my sarcasm and behavior in the classroom to cross certain lines and deeply hurt some students.

The whole string of events have forced me to re-evaluate myself not just as a teacher but as a person. Is it because I really don't care? About anything?

As I sit here close to bed time, I ponder this question... in a melancholy mood. Perhaps it is true that as you get older, birthdays and days in general have less and less of a meaning, but it is what you make of it each day.

One thing I know I am glad about, is that this year of rat is almost year, my nemesis year is almost done... can't wait for it to be done and all bad luck can be out!

Summer Road Trip 2008 Part VI - Hamptons and the home stretch

2008-06-18T12:54:00.001-07:00

We left Staten Island (Thank you Ben for your hospitality!) the following morning and headed for the coast. One thing I need to point out: people on the east coast drive like maniac - we almost got into an accident on the highway! The way we figure is this: In the south, speed limit is set very high at 70 or 80mph, so everyone is pretty much going more or less around the same speed. But here, the speed limit is only 60 - now you have people going at 45 mph and some at 80. Perhaps the solution is to raise speed limit, lift the ban on drugs and underage drinking, then everyone will be happy in a much more extreme and lawless world because we'd have our own sense of safety and law.

The Hamptons are beautiful. Casper is overwhelmed by all the greenery this whole way. I think she likes it much more compared to the barren desert we have.

A stop in a quiet park in downtown Southampton. As we walk towards Main Street, people begin to dress just like the way we imagined they'd be dressed in the Hamptons.

The Hamptons are actually situated right next to the Shinnecock Indian Reservation, which I was told, "You are welcome, but the Pilgrim you brought is not." Wow.

Cooper Beach at the Southampton, 4th nicest beach in the country. Because we had a dog, the beach does not allow pets, we had to move far away from the main crowd. It was as if we owned the beach. The water was nothing compared with the water from Charleston. Definitely below 10 degrees! It was so cold that after staying in the water for more than 30 seconds, I thought we were going to die from hypothermia.

We lazily spent almost two hours sunbathing, only to rush to make it on time for our 4PM ferry reservation that will take us straight to Zack's home in Connecticut across the Long Island Sound. Somehow, the GPS told us that the shortest way is to take two additional ferries across two smaller sounds in order to get to the larger ferry. Little did we know that the path we chose took us an hour and half to travel 20 miles. The good news is that we changed the reservation, caught two more ferries (for someone who's never been on a ferry in a car, it was very exciting), and able to make it on time with 5 minutes to spare (last car on the ferry! If we missed this one, then we would have to wait until 7PM!). Whew! First thing, a cold beer to soothe our fatigue and thirst.

Casper's first time on the boat and smell of fresh sea air. She's such a wonderful dog for this whole trip - no car sick, no seasick, just lots of naps.

To match the theme of water, we visited a few bars in Essex, CT. In one of the bars, they were having seafare night where a band would be singing dirty sailor songs. It was a riot.

As the trip winds down - 15 states, 1 destination, and 3 surviving passengers who have managed not to tear each other's hair out (dog included).

I lazily spent one week in Montreal, meeting up with friends, shopping with my aunt. On my last night in Montreal, Kate whopped up a full course home-made Indian cuisine for a party of 9 because when I asked her for some good restaurant suggestions, she said, why don't I cook? That way, it would be BYOW as well. More trouble to you Kate, thank you so much, for making my last night there so memorable and for one of the best Indian food ever.

Summer Road Trip 2008 Part V - Dance the Charleston

2008-06-18T12:40:00.001-07:00

After 4-5 hours of driving from Marietta/Atlanta, GA, we arrived in Charleston, South Carolina, mainly to see the beaches and visit Zack's high school buddy. Folly Beach welcomes drunken parties and pets. I wish Casper had a funner time with the water because I do want to see her swimming ability.

The water is incredibly warm, something around 80 degree F. Being at beaches like this in such warm water reminds me of the summer spent in Barbados.

Beach houses line the shore.

The glamorous downtown Charleston - department stores, restaurants, with the University of South Carolina nestled in there somewhere.

The lovely people we stayed with and hung out with. Pete, Zack's crazy and entertaining high school friend who will never stop posing was our stop for Charleston. It's amazing that this whole trip, we were able to get in touch with various people and have lodging in all but two nights on the road. Feels our network is definitely expanding as we grow older.

The restaurant offers one of the best cheese biscuits I have ever had, and I don't even like biscuits! Their pepper cheese is also one of the southern favorites.

Night has fallen on Charleston as we meandered through the streets and stumbled onto Marion Square in downtown, the place for the current arts festival.

This building is right in the middle of USC campus. It is actually a very famous building - the set for the movie Patriot with Mel Gibson and Heath Ledger (RIP). Very recognizable and very ancient. It now houses the student government and art props (?).

Charleston played a significant role in the Civil War, namely the start of the war. At the nearby Fort Sumter, the first shot of gunfire rang out and thus began the war.

Somehow, North Carolina never occurred to me as being part of the South, but South Carolina definitely is. Typical architecture, vegetations, atmosphere, and people.

All the residential houses around campus is gorgeous, exactly the kind of southern beauty that I admired - long sleek wooden stairs, eerie glare that highlights the size of the structures, and large windows on all 4 sides, allowing plenty of light in. This is the kind of house talked about in "Gone With the Wind".

We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow. We are set on going from Charleston to Staten Island, which is a 14 hour drive, passing through Virginia, DC, and almost every original 13 state on the east coast. Crazy. What's crazier is that we went to to bed at 3:30 that morning after a college night out on the town. We woke up at 6:30, hit the road and got F--- out of town.

Summer Road Trip 2008 Part IV - Little Europe - New Orleans

2008-06-18T12:25:00.001-07:00

Houston to New Orleans was a 8 hour drive. We emerged from the suffocating humidity of Houston and dove straight into the Bayous of Southern Louisiana.

Luckily, I have plenty of connections in New Orleans thanks to Teach For America. We arrived at Erin's house; after several beers went out to explore the town.

Beautiful New Orleans architecture in the French Quarter. Many people claim this is the French influenced style, but in fact, this is more Spanish influence than French because of the short Spanish occupation somewhere in history before US acquired the state. I'm simply dying to sit on the balcony of these houses and act like I'm from there.

The tourism recovered fairly well post-Katrina. Many people thought the hurricane swept through downtown New Orleans, clearing every weed in its way; however, in reality, most of the main tourist areas such as the French Quarter was less affected compared to parts that are closer to the levee. Today, the town is still flourishing in its unique fashion, atmosphere, and parties.

More awesome houses that I wish I lived in. Sometimes I wonder where do I want to live? In a sleek, modern apartment right above Time Square in NYC or an old-fashioned houses with Spanish balcony, a petunia garden outside, full of history and stories?

Downtown busy Canal Street. We had our heart set on riding the trolley to uptown where we would've ate some famous jambalaya, but the target restaurant required reservation, which we didn't have, and was booked for the night.

We continued to aimlessly walk around and trying to figure out the activities for the rest of the night.

All over the street, there are street jazz bands playing lively music for the pedestrians. In front of the band, there are often dancers swinging a towel in their hand - they are known as second line dancers because the first line is the band itself. I loved it, the atmosphere and how everyone was drunken in the live music.

This is not the Ursuline Convent, which is one of the more famous historic sites in New Orleans, but apparently, the only thing that this St. Louis Cathedral lost during the hurricane was several of Jesus' fingers. Incredible.

We didn't end up finding a famous restaurant, but instead was stuck with Bubba Gump Co. franchise. However, the food turned out to be quite delicious, also things at least one of us never had before, not to mention some tasty local brews.

The best part of the whole experience was our interaction with our waitress, a single mother of a gifted 3rd-grader. With so many teachers at the table (Erin, Christian, and myself), she expressed her admiration, frustration with the school system, and concern whether or not her daughter is receiving the best she could. Luckily, The GNO crowd is always prepared as Erin dictated and Christian wrote, they gave her several KIPP academy contact info that she could use. She was all eager and in the end gave almost everyone a hug as we left the restaurant. I thought the night was so productive because at least the exchange gave someone access to things that may possibly change their life.

Sipping on Pat O'Brien's hurricane drinks (lots of rum and cherry juice) purchased off of Bourbon St, sitting next to Mississippi River, feeling the light river breeze against our faces, is a wonderful relief against the heat of the day.

Summer Road Trip 2008 Part III - Texas Pride

2008-06-18T12:10:00.000-07:00

After a night's rest in a dirty and loud campground (family summer road trip; note to self: came away from small children), we drove from White's City, NM to Orla, TX, a deserted ghost town. It was 40 miles that we shared with only 4 other cars and one lost cow, until we arrived in Pecos, TX, whose friendly grocery store services and huge sandwiches swept me away. We went through Fort Stockton, Sonora, and Ozona, passing through a giant mysterious wild fire in the distance. We stopped at a parking area to eat fruit and a large watermelon - oh, the simple pleasures in life.

Finally, we arrive at our destination for the day, another typical suburbia American, New Braunfel, TX, where we spent the night out on the town, while leaving Casper in a rather roomy bathroom where she tore the place APART during those 3 hours we were gone.

Where did we go? Gruene is an off-the-map historic town within New Braunfel. Gruene Hall is a legendary locale that was the beginning glory for many of today's country singers. As we walked through the area, just as we'd heard about Texas, there were old, gray-bearded men sitting in the bar, drinking beer all day long, waiting for the concert to start.

Gruene is a quaint, flower-ridden beautiful town on the green, adorned by architecture such as this beautiful Bed and Breakfast - very "Gone With the Wind" type.

Dinner at Gristgrill right behind Gruene Hall. Zack got a typical American burger, while I was trying to be originally, and went for a Queso, described as "the locals' favorite summer appetizer", thinking it was shorthand for quesadilla (which ODDLY, was also on the menu).

Moments later, Zack's burger arrives along with a bowl of cheese dip. He gingerly poured the dip on his burger after seeking my excellent southwestern cuisine expertise ("You put the cheese on your burger of course!")

When the waitress returned again with the chips, I asked, "Where is the queso?" Her eyes bulged, "Umm... this is your queso. What did you think queso was? You are from New Mexico and you don't know what queso was???" Whoa whoa, I've never even heard of it in any New Mexican restaurants (although, anyone who ever bought dips and tortilla chips for a party ought to know what it is since they come in jars).

She walked away shaking heads at our touristy stupidity. When she returned again, she felt obliged to tell us, "I had to tell this story to my manager, and his response was 'Yankees!'" I tried to cover up my New Mexican trail by explaining that I'm actually from China. "Oh right, and when the rest of the staff and I go out tonight, I'll tell them 'She didn't even speak English!'"

Finally, when the bill came, I handed the credit card over, "This is how we Yankees pay the bill up North - allow the ladies."

All in good spirit, we laughed the evening off and had a great time at Gruene Hall listening to Two Tons of Steel ("Two Tons!") and playing horseshoe with a Houston family.

Following morning, we aimed to hit 3 major Texan cities in one day: San Antonio, Austin, and Houston (revisit the horrendous humidity that I spent 5 weeks last summer during the Houston Institute).

First stop, head south towards San Antonio, namely to visit the Alamo.

Historic plaza in downtown San Antonio. Ancient architectures dazzled with store fronts, restaurants, and Guinness Book of Record Museum. The extravagance displayed by these museums reminded me of that year when we went to Orlando, a place that had the biggest everything in the world (e.g. Biggest Planet Hollywood, Biggest Rain Forest Cafe etc). In general, we concluded that if a place doesn't have much to offer, then it will need these museums to cover its shortcomings.

In addition to the Spurs, San Antonio had one major thing to offer - the Alamo, where the famous battle of 1836 against the Mexican took place, and Texas became an independent state of its own. But it was not until almost 9 years later that it was finally annexed and became a part of America.

Here, we sensed a strong Texan, if not a national, pride. "Please be respectful inside the Alamo where men who have fought their country lain" (or something like it). The audio tour guide waved it off, "People think it's sacred or something."

Everyone who walks through the complex scrutinize the architecture, the writings and imagine the final moments for the soldiers who chose to fight until death rather than surrender to the Mexicans.

The Alamo was originally a mission built by the Spanish (San Antonio de Valero mission) in the 1700s. Later it was abandoned until 200 Texans (Tejanos) led by Colonel William B. Travis and legendary figure Davy Crockett fought behind this bulwark against Mexican General Antonio López de Santa Anna and his troops of 3000. Santa Anna had a Napoleonic complex and was set on conquering and retrieving Texas.

Faced with an overwhelming number of offensive, the men knew they were doomed, but no one was willing to give up. Travis wrote a letter addressed to the people of America:

"I am besieged, by a thousand or more of the Mexicans under Santa Anna ... ... I have answered
the demand with a cannon shot, & our flag still waves proudly from the wall. I shall never surrender or retreat."

Even though he pleaded for reinforcement (only 30 randomly assorted volunteer men from the nearby town of Gonzales came, the youngest being only 15), help never came. He was prepared for the worst:

"I am determined to sustain myself as long as
possible & die like a soldier who never forgets what is due to his own honor & that of his country ----- Victory or Death."

Of course the story came from the American/Texan perspective, with massive patriotism and nationalism. It was nevertheless a powerful experience. Zack never felt so proud as an American in Texas. So proud that we had to take a picture with the Sheriff.

Two hours after we left San Antonio, we arrived at Austin. My initial impression of Austin was last summer when we stumbled upon a drunken, frat party scene as the backdrop for its nightlife. Needless to say, I was not impressed but annoyed. This time around, I was able to fully appreciate what the city has to offer, and I can honestly say that it is a city that I can see myself living in (But never Texas!). The restaurant was extremely pet friendly, even offered us a bowl of water for Casper.

Every day, every night, we hit one major city. After several hours or so, we are ready to hit the road and get out of this town - such is the life on the road, strangers to a new town, look around and check out the scene, leave judgments and footprints and off somewhere else. We are vagabonds.

Last major Texan city - Houston:

We stayed with Zack's acquaintance Janet, a lovely, friendly, welcoming Texas woman who opened her door to us and made us completely comfortable.

Night out at El Tiempo, the best Tex-Mex restaurant I've ever been with the best soft tacos and briskets I've ever had!

Finally, we ended up in Wild West, a cheesy country club (a "fake country club" according to Zack) with a large piece of dancing floor where people moved around to line dancing and Texas two-steps. This is definitely a side of Houston I did not experience last summer. Certainly changes my perspective that Houston has nothing to offer except humidity and Moody Towers.

Summer Road Trip 2008 Part II - White Sands and Carlsbad

2008-06-18T11:41:00.000-07:00

World's largest gypsum dunes - White Sands National Park - 275 square miles of white safari, situated in the Tularosa Basin, became this way today due to its unique ecology, dry climate and strong winds.

Water from the mountains (Organ Mountains?) flowed down, carrying dissolved minerals, and into the Tularosa plain. Over time, the minerals morphed into this beautiful snow desert.

The sand dunes are still constantly changing - pushing and pulling as they move inches every year. The sand and alkaline soil allows few enduring vegetations to survive, from cyanobacteria and fungi (the basic nutrient for many larger plants here), to grand cottonwood trees (their roots extend many feet below the sand to avoid erosion).

The moving dunes overwhelm most organisms, but these few plants that sustain here have acquire certain adaptations:

- Yucca plants keep their leaves above the sand but extend their roots far into the ground. They rapidly grow in a desperate race to keep their leaves above ground.
- Rosemary mint's growth rate surpasses the rate of moving dunes by using its leaves and roots to keep the sand together beneath them, thus providing a stable surface for other plants as well.

The sandy "beach" is mainly inhabited by nocturnal animals and insects:
- bleached earless lizards
- Apache pocket mice
- In general, these organisms have white pigments and since there is no water in this area (as you enter the park, there is a sign that says, "From this point on, there is no more water"), their moisture comes from their food alone. The dramatic temperature change in the desert allows the moisture to be retained.

Daytime creatures:
- Screaming tourists burning under the hot southwestern sun, soaking in the UVA and UVB with absolutely no place to take shade - a cancerous disaster waiting to happen years down the road.

One final note about this area: it was previously occupied by ancient Puebloan people and Mesclero Apache Indians.

En route to Carlsbad, we passed through Route 82 from Alamogordo to Cloudcroft, NM. Talk about isolation.

WELCOME to Carlsbad Cavern National Park!

In 1898, a young, brave soul called Jim White (NOT related to Charles White, who founded White's City just outside Carlsbad; they were just mutual friends) entered the caves via rope ladder and equipped with only one flashlight. At the age of 16, he became the first explorer of the caves (though not the first discoverer, but the only with the courage to enter into the deep dark unknown).

As we ride the elevator down 750 feet below surface, we begin to experience the wonder and thrill that was once felt by its initial explorers.

250 million years ago, New Mexico and its surrounding areas were submerged under water. It was the relaxing and breezy sea coast that today's vacationists long for.

While they were underwater, trilobites, insects and algae die and many of their exoskeletons deposit in the water, forming a reef.

Over time, the calcium bicarbonate within these deposits react with sulfuric acid (from hydrogen sulfide gas from deep oil wells and hydrothermal vents in the ocean) in a chemical equation that yields carbon dioxide, water and gypsum (same stuff as we saw in the White Sands).

About 60 million years ago, these deposits cracked and formed caves underneath the ground, which by now has dried and became the Chihuahua Desert as it's known today, along with beautiful structures such as these draperies and popcorn stalagmites.

Common formations observed in the caves:

- Stalactites - water containing calcium bicarb slowly drips from the ceiling, forming cones hanging downwards
- Stalagmites - same gypsum water rapidly drips, forming larger, inverted cones on the ground
- Popcorn stalagmites and stalactites - moisture from a calcium bicarb soaked air
- Draperies - large stalactites formed from slanted cave ceiling
- Columns - one scenario suggests that as shown in this picture, they can be formed when stalactites and stalagmites continuously grow and eventually join together
- Soda straws - millions of spiky sharp rockcicles hanging from the ceiling, reminiscent of an Indian Jones movie or a fantasy movie were protagonists are often changed as they run from falling needles.

These are the soda straws.

In general, the gypsum world is monotonously colored with mere white and beige as they their main palette. Yet, there are others:

- Orange comes from iron oxide
- Black comes from manganese
- Green can either come from corroding copper coin (many tourists can treat ground lake as a wishing well) or from green algae in the cave (the light inside is adjusted at a wavelength to promote algae growth)

Some interesting stories and people encountered in this short trip:

- Are Texans generally loud and obnoxious? That was our initial prejudice as we passed by a group of rambunctious southerners who ignored the sacred silence cherished by the cavern gods. Zack couldn't help but ask where they were from. Turned out they were from California and Utah but came into town to bury their father of 88 years in Texas. Certainly debunked our bias.
- While sitting outdoors waiting for the bat flight, we sat across from a couple. A woman, once was a kindergarten teacher who turned author and photographer after a brain surgery, who spat out "Dude" in between every other word, very typically Californian. The old man stuck to his heavy German-accented English. We shared stories and they told us of the beautiful and little known Prescott Valley.
- Casper was certainly attracting lots of attention - everyone was trying to guess her breed, and yet no one is quite right. I suppose people off the rez don't see a whole lot of rez dogs. A family stopped by to pat the dog. They were from Orange, TX, the last town on the eastern border of the state before entering Louisiana. We will certainly think of them as we pass through the area.
- Velvet Saloon, the only bar in town attached to the Velvet Garter, the only restaurant in town that closes at 8:30PM. As I order some food, I sat in the bar waiting for my pickup (Zack sped away to pitch the tent as the sun slowly dipped beneath the horizon). I had my first New Mexican beer, brewed in Roswell, not surprisingly, is called "Alien". Chatted up with the bartender, who's only been in the "city" for 7 weeks from Michigan. When asked how do you like it, she shrugged, "Not yet used to this..." "Isolation," I finished her sentence because I know exactly how she feels

Travelers tend to write travel blogs, on places they visit, experiences they have, things they do - wouldn't be cool to write a book just about the people one encounters on trips and in life? What are their stories? Why would someone abandoned metropolis and go into a small tourist attraction town in the middle of nowhere? What is the draw?

As Zack puts it, "The world is beautiful anywhere you go, you know, the wide open plains etc, but the people you meet complete and is the only thing that defines each place and experience."

Bat guano was first discovered as a great energy source between 1920 and 1933. The caves is home to several species of bats, namely the Mexican roosterhead bat, which comes out at night for the bat flight showing. They make several trips back and forth, eating several million pounds of mosquitoes every night.

They used to travel in the thousands, with human activity and global warming, their numbers have dwindled down to the hundred. We shook our heads as we watched the scattering creatures flapped away pathetically, in awe of what has become of perhaps one of the most amazing phenomenon in the southwest.

Human activity not only has put a toll on the local animal species, but also to the cave itself. In 2000, hanging formations broke and blocked the entrance way of the cave due to hundreds of tourists stomping through the day before. Shows that stalactites do break, long time ago it was mostly due to earthquakes, but since this land is now stable, the sole reason has become human intervention. What about all the lint and skin cells left by each individual. Add that to half a million tourists every year, and you have a very large mothball desecrating the magnificent structures that perhaps our precedents will not see the full effect.

Summer Road Trip 2008 Part I - Las Cruces

2008-06-18T10:52:00.000-07:00

From the desert of New Mexico, through the humid Texas, South and East Coast, back to the metropolitan Montreal.

June 1st: Day 1 of our road trip. After picking up a jet-lagged Zack, we spent a night in a run-down roadside motel in ABQ, only to wake up to a couple throwing out loud, obnoxious obscenities at each other, at 6 in the morning.

to say, we left this town and headed south towards Las Cruces where Sarah and Anne graciously showed us around their lovely home and a beautiful historic Old Mesilla town.

Their house is located in Doña Ana County, just outside of the city of Las Cruces. This area was originally occupied by the Apache Indians. In 1800s, Mexicans from El Paso migrated into the area and finally settled through treaties. The Apaches are now on a reservation some ways away from this part of town. The Mexican culture evidently andNeedless obviously endured as shown by these colorful crosses, artwork that is a popular type of collection for the locals.

Sarah (left) pointed out the doorway and design is an important part of the typical stucco New Mexican architecture.

We visited the historic plaza of Old Mesilla, where the famous vagabond Billy the Kid was captured, jailed, tried in court (the building now houses this mechanic model), escaped, and finally captured again and shot by Sheriff Pat Garrett in the neighboring Organ mountains on route to Albuquerque. Billy was only 16 when he died, but already infamous by 14.

Stucco/adobe (here is more stucco where as adobe adorns the north) architecture is the staple of the southwest. The material keeps the house warm in the winter and cool in the summer.

Hopefully starting off on the right foot with each other since we are stuck in one car for 10 days straight with Casper as the only other creature to turn to in times of frustration (with each other).

A poolside BBQ party at Sarah and Anne's beautiful Las Cruces home. Anne designed the entire architecture and around every corner, there is a bit of family history, local art and culture.

A different perspective

2008-06-15T11:13:00.000-07:00

A Poem
Published by the Washington Post

When we were the Sick Man of Asia, We were called The Yellow peril.
When we are billed to be the next Superpower, we are called The Threat.
When we closed our doors, you smuggled drugs to open markets.
When we embrace Free Trade, You blame us for taking away your jobs.
When we were falling apart, You marched in your troops and wanted your fair share.
When we tried to put the broken pieces back together again, Free Tibet you screamed, It Was an Invasion!
When tried Communism, you hated us for being Communist.
When we embrace Capitalism, you hate us for being Capitalist.
When we have a billion people, you said we were destroying the planet.
When we tried limiting our numbers, you said we abused human rights.
When we were poor, you thought we were dogs.
When we loan you cash, you blame us for your national debts.
When we build our industries, you call us Polluters.
When we sell you goods, you blame us for global warming.
When we buy oil, you call it exploitation and genocide.
When you go to war for oil, you call it liberation.
When we were lost in chaos and rampage, you demanded rules of law.
When we uphold law and order against violence, you call it violating human rights.
When we were silent, you said you wanted us to have free speech.
When we are silent no more, you say we are brainwashed-xenophobics.
Why do you hate us so much, we asked.
No, you answered, we don't hate you.
We don't hate you either,
But, do you understand us?
Of course we do, you said,
We have AFP, CNN and BBC's...
What do you really want from us?
Think hard first, then answer...
Because you only get so many chances.
Enough is Enough, Enough Hypocrisy for This One World.
We want One World, One Dream, and Peace on Earth.
This Big Blue Earth is Big Enough for all of Us.

2008/4/28
Duo-Liang Lin, Ph. D.
Professor Emeritus of Physics
University at Buffalo
State University of New York

2nd Parent teacher conference

2008-01-14T18:57:00.001-08:00

I'm beat! After 6 hours of talking and blabbing on about my classroom to 40+ parents, I was exhausted. But overall, it was such a motivational, positive experience! So much better than the first time when I met with the parents. Many even took notes during our conversations. One mother, who I wanted to meet for a very long time, finally arrived with her sons, and it was very encouraging to meet with her and discuss how the student's attitude changed and how we can work together to change it back. In some other cases, kids brought their entire family (almost an entire family). I would first talk something positive, then suggest improvement, things I'd like to see from the students such as more leadership in the classroom, or working beyond what is required of them. Then I introduced what we are doing this semester with the state standardized test. Then I tried my best to find the student's work when we put together a response about "Why do I want to do well on the test?" Because I was so impressed with their responses, I had to share it with the parents, who also thought they were positive and motivational. There were many "wows" and smiles. In the end, I gave out my phone number to all who showed up in case they need to reach me about homework or just anything.

I stuck out by the end, very exhausting but at the same time extremely rewarding. I was expecting some demanding parents, but I guess my coverage was so comprehensive that it did answer a lot of their questions. Many also definitely opened up to me as well compared to the first time, and would go on and on about their child, being a track and field coach etc. It was such a joy to listen to all of that! I wish everyday were like the parent teacher conference days.

First week of 2008

2008-01-13T07:51:00.000-08:00

It went much better than I anticipated. Students seemed to be completely different, at least for some of them. On the first day back, the 7th graders were extremely quiet, to the point where class discussion seemed a drag and most painful I've ever experienced. "It's the first day of school," DY sheepishly said on behalf of his classmates. After talking to other teachers, I realized that it was truly not me, but a widespread phenomenon shared by all educators in our school, if not across the whole country. That's one thing I have noticed about teaching, whenever I feel I'm doing something wrong, it generally is not the case with me, but rather is common event grieved by all other first-year teachers, sometimes even experienced teachers. In a way, it is a relief.

6th period students looked up and CC asked timidly, "Weren't you going to sing us that song?" "Oh yeah, huh (a lingo I picked up from my students). I thought you all forgot about it. Under their watchful eyes, I sang the National Anthem (Star Spangled Banner) in Navajo. At first, many kids covered their mouth and asked, "Can we laugh?" "NO! Otherwise I won't sing it!" I barked. However, the giggles at the beginning of the song turned to a silent and wistful audience. When I finished, they all applauded, and one student even commented, "You have a pretty voice, did you used to sing?" I was amazed at the calming effect the music had on the students, some of them were mouthing the words along with me. They all said it was great despite a few pronunciations. Nevertheless, it was a moment of glory. For this particular class, they will work hard now since I did my part of the deal.

November adventures

2008-01-04T14:50:00.000-08:00

Continuing on backwards - onto November!

November, 2007

We’ve been covering the Desert Rock story in the classroom as part of a thematic unit on renewable and nonrenewable energy. It shocks me that so many students have no idea about such a local project that has tremendous impact on their lives. One day, Priyanka and I were talking and somehow Desert Rock came into our conversation. She told me that there will be a vigil held against the building of the power plant. As it turns out, Burnham is only a turnoff few minutes away from Newcomb. We checked out the dates and decided to head there together.
Friday afternoon was the end of a terrible day. JC would not comply with my classroom rule about cursing. For yet another time, he went to the office for the same offense. At the end of the day, I questioned myself, do I really want to continue this profession? Am I really cut out to be a teacher? I asked these questions on the phone to Zack’s parents who have plenty of experiences being middle school teachers. I felt like myself again and very soon, Priyanka arrived to unpack her car so we can begin our journey into the coal plants in the dark.
It was only 5:30PM, but the sky has completely shut down. At some points in our drive, we decided to be adventurous and decided to turn off the headlights while driving. It was insane! The night was nevertheless bright with stars. We psyched ourselves out with the little stunt and after what seemed like hours of driving, finally got on the dirt bumpy road (so glad that we were taking her SUV rather than my tiny Corolla whose wheels may not take the ride actually) and found the encampment where people gathered around a campfire. They were telling stories (one elderly who sat on a log was a storyteller by profession) and sharing experiences. It was such an amazing time because I’ve never felt so environmentalist in my whole life. I keep thinking about all the things I’ve done at McGill with Green Week and later the interview with Green Corps, all the involvement I’m trying to do with environmentalism, none of it felt real until now. All of that were simply an issue that we were trying to raise awareness but half of it we had no clue about it. Driving through the land mines, seeing the “Beware, blasting ahead” signs, and finally being among people, some who cared so much that they hitchhiked for days just for a 4-day vigil, seemed out of this world. This is real, this is what environmentalism should be, this is the real world. The stories of the rangers and police tagging license plates and monitoring the encampment made it even more movie-like.
Everyone camped the night, but we were not prepared for the intensity. Instead, we returned the following morning and helped to cut up vegetables for the stew. The day before, they killed a lamb for sacrifice and started cooking since yesterday. The notable Ms. Elouise Brown from the New York Times article was present during the day. She has been camping out there, often times by herself in the bleak desert, for 11 months now. Her act is a silent protest against a project that in 2012 will mostly likely be built despite local opposition. The tribal Navajo government supports the project by claiming it will bring the young ones, the college graduates, back to the reservation because otherwise it has nothing else to offer them.
It was an inspiration to be among the rubbles, the tattered tarp put over the sticks as roof. Even Elouise Brown’s son, a 13-year-old 8th grader, set up his own tent on a mound of dirt, right next to a telescope. He claims he is the security because through the lens, he can monitor the activity of rangers parked in the distance, who are in turn, watching their every move. We peeked through the telescope, and there they were, staring right at us from their white vans! There were other younger individuals who hitchhiked for days, or drove from Tuba City and California to join the movement. I thought my students deserve to hear about this story, to see the mines, and watch what is happening at the moment around them. The young people on the site are inspirations for them as well.
In the afternoon, Priyanka and I received a list of grocery from Elouise. We left the encampment to go to Farmington to buy the goods. At night, we sat around the same fire, sipping on the same mutton soup from earlier, and sitting with the same people. Few more arrived from California. Not everyone at the encampment was Navajo, some Apache and some Pomo. Later on, Elouise’s brother built a sweat lodge, which is a spiritual site where people gather for cleansing and praying and sometimes socializing. Traditionally, Navajos sweat in separate lodges for the two sexes. However, because of the small number of people present tonight for the ceremony, and since there is only one lodge built, we had a mixed sweat session.
Last minute, I decided to join the other 7 people and participate. Many of them brought change of clothing: shorts, towels, and swim trunks, but since I was not prepared, I was still in my jeans but luckily, I had a tank top on. As soon as the curtains fell on the tent and all the rocks burning in the ceremonial fire outside the tent were brought inside the tent, the leader (Elouise’s brother) poured water on the rocks and another person spread some sage on the rocks for it to sparkle. The tent became unbearably hot, difficult to breathe and difficult to concentrate. Drops and then streams of liquid began to ooze out of my body. I had to bury my face in the towel to avoid the intense heat. On top of the heat, the other began chanting, singing and praying loudly. I’ve never had to pray with others so openly so for awhile I did not know what to do but to absorb the moment and listen to others.
There were 4 20-minute sweatings with a 10-minute break in between. During each session, someone would take the lead in praying and singing. On the third session, the leader asked the “young woman who is here tonight” to lead the prayer. I asked if it was OK to do it in my own language. I had no higher being to pray to, so instead I prayed and talked to mom, explaining what was happening and how I was feeling. While I talked, others joined in all sorts of languages. It was such an amazing experience. When we were done, I was asked again to sing a song. So I sang a song in Chinese among the heavy breathings and cooling down. The song reminded me of where I am, where people lived simple lives, love was pure, and land and sky joined in the horizon. It was amazing, in one respect, I was thankful that I was spiritually healthy to undertake such a feat. By the time we emerged from the tent and shook hands with the sisters and brothers who endure the physical struggle, it was also past 1AM. The midnight breeze was refreshing. We walked back from the ceremonial fire in the dark, under the starry night.
Weekend before my birthday, Leah and I take a trip to Taos, NM. I had a romanticized view of Taos, from what I have heard and based on my lovely and adventurous impression of Santa Fe. “Julia Roberts lives in Taos, she buys the jewelry from the shop at the foot of the mountain!” So I pictured a place as hip and trendy and in-the-woods as Santa Fe, if not more. But when we arrived, Taos turns out to be an extremely hippy place. The first shop we stopped at was an oriental clothing store run by middle-aged hippies still stuck in the 70s while there was a psychic fair going on in the background. I enjoyed it, it was simply different from what I imagined. The historical square was deserted however, and we walked in and around all the jewelry shops and bookstores until we felt nauseas by all the touristy air.
Decided to drive on Kit Carson Road. Kit Carson was once a well-known southwestern scout who explored the desert and apparently spoke several different Indian languages. He helped the American settlement as well as the massacre of thousands of innocents. Today he is remembered as a hero. The drive however, away from the touristy parts and into more residential areas, is beautiful, exactly how I pictured it would be. After winding through the narrow alleys and onto the main road, we faced a giant sleeping mountain.
While cruising on Kit Carson, we passed two Bed and Breakfast mansions. One was closed and out of curiosity, we checked out the price for the other one. The innkeeper was so friendly, “I have a great deal for you, check it out if you’d like, but we’d love for you to stay. You are looking for a place to stay, and we are looking to rent it out for the night. It’s a win-win deal.” He showed us the only place left for the night, a two-bedroom suite complete with a fireplace, kitchen, full bathroom, TV (with over 60 channels!) and a dining room. It was a luxury far better than the original B&B we were looking at online. “This suite was originally $179 for the night, but there is a special tonight for $139. BUT for you two, I’ll give it to you for $89 a night.” WOW, the price is even cheaper than the room we were thinking of going but is now booked, not to mention this is a suite! We happily accepted the offer. We purchased a bottle of white wine and drank with the other guests at the inn while watching free-range chickens roam the farmland and the sun descend in the distance. At one point, I looked around the crowd, and commented to Leah, “We are the youngest here, and everyone’s in couples.” “Which is why the innkeeper probably thinks we are a lesbian couple.” We laughed about the insinuation, and quickly applied to all the conversation with the innkeeper thereafter. Things made a lot more sense, and it was hilarious. True, what people our age goes out of their way to find a B&B? Only us I suppose.
We caught the happy hour at the restaurant we ate earlier in the day when we chatted up with the bartender about Kit Carson and what there is to do in Taos. The crowd is rowdier and more packed at this hour. The waitress checked my ID and reminded us, “Is this a birthday celebration?” I completely forgot that it is in fact close to my birthday and so happily accepted the drink on the house. The bar scene was not enough for me, so we went to the Indian Trading Post that is actually a fancy, upscale restaurant. While I dined on my escargot with fried paste and Leah dined on water and breadstick, we shared one of the deepest conversations I’ve had since coming to New Mexico.
Ever since the accidents, I’ve had a fear of driving. Now snaking through the narrow mountain highway, I got the creeps. Instead, I let Leah take over the wheels while I marveled at the beautiful cliffs and hanging rocks outside the window. The ancient Puebloan village that we wanted to check out was unfortunately closed on Sundays. Disheartened, we headed back south.
I never anticipated that I would have such a wonderful birthday wishes and celebration. For months, I tried to plan what I would want to do on my birthday. As I walked into school, everyone who saw me wished me a happy birthday. The first person being Nora of course. Over the past several months, with cheerleading, our early check-in schedules, and the proximity between my classroom and her office, she has become one of my closest friends at NMS. What I didn’t expect was a surprise lunch planned for me, a birthday cake, and a birthday card filled with signatures from staffs and students. Everyone passing me by in the hall smiled, “Happy Birthday Ms. Tang! How old are you now?” “32,” I smiled back.
This was also the last day before Thanksgiving break. I quickly packed up my car and drove to Farmington where Justine was kind enough to give me a ride to Albuquerque for my early flight the next day. After several hours of driving, we get into town and met up with Leah and Gracielle for a birthday dinner at an Indian restaurant, the first one I’ve been to since last April or May in Montreal. It brought back so many fond memories of dinners with friends at university, how time travels forward while we sometimes are still stuck in the past. Justine’s boyfriend and later his friend joined us for laughs and mango lassees.
After bidding the Gallup crew goodbye, we went to John’s house for another birthday celebration for one of his friends. The partying turned from drinking to something else and ended with a trip to the local convenient store (depanneur) at 2 in the morning, again, reminiscent of college life, or perhaps these people are still stuck in those days. John was an extremely good host at such late hour, I slept so well in clean sheets and a nice bed.
Going back to Montreal was a much-needed break from the chaos that happens everyday in school. I had a “date” with somebody every single moment for every meal of every day I was there. In the middle of the day, I’d return home and take a shower and change into something else. “You think this is a hotel service, don’t you?” My aunt asked. Unfortunately, I do… Next time, I promised myself, no matter how tedious home may be, I’ll be good and not go anywhere for the Christmas break. Let’s see if I can actually bide to the rule I made for myself.
When I came home, the following week, I had my court hearing for the accident that happened in late-October. What a waste of my day off. “Do you plead guilty or not guilty?” The judge asked me before 20 or so others, many teenagers probably there for underage drinking or reckless driving. Of course I pleaded not guilty because I truly think it was not my fault; it was an unavoidable accident. In any case, under the resigned eyes of the other offenders, I walked out of the courtroom after being there for 10 minutes.
What should I do for the rest of the day? I was tempted to go back to work and save half a day. Instead, I adopted two puppies from the family across the street – one golden and one black and grey. I already kennels and pet tents for them, so I immediately drove them to the animal clinic to get their first set of shots ready. They were so obedient and quiet, perhaps glad to get out of a zoo of 7 other dogs. What should I name them? On the way to the vet, I scoured my brain for dog names, in a hurry, I said to myself out loud, “Jasper and Casper!” And voila! There they are and here I am, a mother of two – together we’ll build a beautiful relationship hopefully.

Walking down memory lane

2008-01-04T14:39:00.000-08:00

After a day out in the snow, I ended up passing through McGill campus in hopes of visiting one of my professor friends, but he was not in the office. Nevertheless, it felt refreshing to wander through the hallways of Leacock, pretending to be a student even though I am no longer in university. As I approach the Roddick Gates on my way out of a memory spot, I passed by a familiar face. We used to say hello to each other constantly 4 years ago in Rez, but once we moved out, we hardly ever do the same. Today, perhaps the first time since Rez days, we stopped and said hello even though names may be hazy for both of us.

"Where do I know you from?" He asked.

"New Rez," I replied confidently. "B-, right?"

"Yeah. I'm in my first year at law school, I don't like it though."

"That's what I hear about law school - lot of boring classes for an impressive credential."

Small talks, but I muse, funny how relations work.

Words of wisdom on teaching

2008-01-03T07:28:00.000-08:00

Visited Zack and his parents in Sugarloaf for a few days of good skiing shortly after Christmas. They are both educator, both taught and one of them still teaches middle schoolers. On our last night while celebrating New Year with champagne a day ahead of time, I asked for some final advices on teaching. "Three words," Robbie said, "FIGURE IT OUT." Sums it all up for everything even outside this profession.

Experiences counting down

2008-01-03T07:00:00.000-08:00

An entire semester passed without any entry, I do apologize for the inconsistency. Apologies mainly to self for the lack of commitment. "These are precious moments, you need to record every single one," my super blogger aunt reminded me. Perhaps it is also the beginning of my memoir, to which my professor uncle laughed, "You are only 23!" True, but it's never too late. In the New Year, I am making several new resolutions and plan to stick them in large, bold prints on the fridge so that I can remind myself. Speaking of which, New Year is becoming increasingly ANTICLIMACTIC every year, what a great description of it (what a word, thanks Elisa).

New resolutions for 2008:

1. Be more consistent with my blog
2. Walk/run Casper and Jasper daily (or at least one of them if I do end up giving one away)
3. Quit the habit of eating what I like until I can no longer walk
4. Keep in touch with old friends and be more affectionate with the new ones
5. Learn to say "NO" more and often

In any case, over the break, it was a time to reflect, record, and relax. My experiences as a first year teacher began in June when I got in the car that suffered multiple series of AC breakdown in the middle of the summer, exasperated transmission, and a 2000-mile trek all the way down to Texas. However, because my poor memory, I've only began writing my experiences from December on backwards, hoping eventually the series of events will connect, or not connect, with one another. I found adventure in every corner of every day, it all depends on your attitude about it. Each episode may appear to be a single, individual event, but somehow there is a grand picture. So here it goes...

December, 2007

Classes are finally over at University of New Mexico. I felt lucky to have just recently graduated from McGill. While the education courses were not difficult – the report card proved right with some shining A and A+s – the stress of managing classes in Gallup twice a week, that’s 4 hours on the road every week, not to mention driving at night, and lesson planning and now dealing with two puppies turned out to be more than my fair share of high pressure life. However, because of a highly demanding curriculum at McGill, I felt my college-student drive was still in me. Eventually, the classes were manageable and I was able to finish with very decent grades. I have therefore built so much confidence in myself that I believe and hope will continue into the future.
No plan for a weekend, I thought about visiting Priyanka and Stacia in Navajo, just over the mountains. On a Saturday morning, Priyanka calls up and warns me not to drive, “The road is very dangerous, you have no idea how much snow and icy it is over here.” Quite amazingly, all we are getting in Newcomb is rain and mud. I resigned and watched several episodes of “Project Runway” on the internet while letting the dogs out every once in a while to do their business. Every time they had to come back inside, I would have to wipe their feet clean with a towel because the mud don’t do them any good. Finally around 2PM, I looked at sisters and said to them, “Isn’t this lame? We need to get out, or I need to get out at least.” I packed up my car with an empty coffee mug and a basket full of laundry and drove to Shiprock to sip some tea and do some laundry.
At the coffee shop Ah’weh Goh’weh (which means coffee coffee in Navajo), I met Carmen, the waitress and a nameless missionary-styled woman cleaning up after her tutoring service. We chatted and she was amazed at my many experiences, “You should write a book. Maybe next time when you come, you’ll talk and I’ll write it for you.” That is the second time someone told me I should write a book (the first time being Raymond during first year of college) – perhaps it is time to think about it. All of a sudden, I felt part of a community, where people know me by name and I don’t feel out of a place when I drive somewhere.
Time to do laundry. What I expected to be a mundane laundry shop was full of surprises. As I sat around waiting for my laundry to finish, one of my students DJ walked by, “Ms. Tang! My parents are here, you should tell them about the puppies!” I’ve been asking around the school if someone would like to take care of them for me while I’m gone away for the holidays. Many students eagerly raised their hands to fight for the “privilege”. I asked them to bring back a note from their parents acknowledging that they are indeed OK with the idea of two more animals in the household. Lucky for me, today the parents were present. We shook hands (so heart-warming, it was the first casual parent-teacher meeting and for the first time, I actually felt like a teacher in a poverty-stricken community, for some odd reason). They asked about the puppies and I mentioned I wanted to give away one of them. They thought about it and said we’ll take it, we’ll take both of them for the holidays. It was too much! I thought it was going to be such an uneventful day and here I am, found a solution to my dog problem and felt like a teacher in action!
So one thing solved, I continued on to the drying machine, waiting for every 7 minutes to finish the cycle. While I was waiting, a short and stout woman next to me asked, “Are you an exchange student?” After a brief conversation in which I explained that I am a teacher, she laughed and said because her son once made friends back in high school with a Japanese exchange student, she thought I was the same! No wonder once at a football game, a first grader said to me, “I thought you were a kid…” Anyways, she was a teacher herself and started telling me all about the teacher exchange program where Navajo teachers would go somewhere in Asia to teacher English and even Navajo. Sounds pretty incredible but how come I’ve never heard about it? What an incredible day, rain and ice falling from the sky yet I made meaningful conversations and resolved a stress that’s been on my mind for so long.
Recently found out from the TFA New Mexico office that I, along with Towers and Anne were the three people selected to be on the cover of next year’s matriculation packet. Even though I feel I could be a better teacher, I feel very proud of myself to have come this far. That’s another confidence booster that tells me that even though there may be a lot of improvements needed in the classroom, I can still manage and I am and will become a great teacher.
Helped to decorate the venue with Gracielle at the TFA annual holiday party All Indian Tribes Center, formerly it was a Middle Eastern restaurant, now it’s a shop where downstairs in the circular building sells jewelry and upstairs is the venue for the party. We arrived several hours before the party started, wrapped the tables with wrapping paper, candles, and ribbons to match the Holiday theme, but also because we did not have any table cloths. People gradually arrived one after the other. In total, there were about 63. The food, for the its price, was a disappointment, but it was nice being the hostess watching everyone interact, to see that cliques did not form and everyone got along with everyone else. In the end, everyone congratulated us on putting together a wonderful show. My reaction was that I barely did anything. Since I lived so far away, there is really not much I can do except for sending out invitation and wrapping the tables.
I left the puppies at Katie and Rob’s place. While it was cold that night, I thought they could handle the temperature. Everyone else left the holiday party to hang out at a sports bar and a house party afterwards, but I felt like a mother and wanted to stay with my babies. We watched “Coach Carter”, an inspirational movie about a basketball coach in the ‘hood, teaching student athletes to truly become STUDENT athletes. I became worried about the dogs, they’d freeze! I was heart-broken and decided to bring them inside the garage and put them in the tent. In the morning, I was so sad for them and thought I was such a terrible mother, leaving her children in a terrible condition. I held one of them as I turned on the engine.
As the car started, I found that the tire pressure gauge light was on, I had no idea how to manage or measure pressure gauge. Luckily there was Rob and the dealer man who helped me measure tires. While I was learning how to add air to the tires at a gas station, a homeless man walks by and offers to hold the line. He also asked for a ride, but I pointed to the cages inside and offered him a burrito instead. He took it and after the air was done, he sat down and ate his burrito while I drove away and wondered what will become of him tonight.
This week, kids are off the wall, reminiscent of a week in October when they all claimed they are like that because of exams. Well, perhaps this is the same thing. One day, D.B., the baddest 16-year-old in 8th grade, showed up with multiple cut marks up his arm, asking and seeking for some attention, “Ms. Tang, do you think it’s normal for someone to do this to themselves?” I truly did not know how to respond to that. Not to mention on that day, I was hard on him for being the way he was, sitting around for another day, doing nothing. After lunch, he made comment in the hallway where everyone can hear his rude and inappropriate comment. I referred him and at the end of the day, he was suspended for 3 days. However, he also came to me to apologize, “I’m really sorry about what I said, I didn’t mean it.” While he’s speaking, his mouth was twitching, and I felt a pain surging up. Forget about the “No touching student” policy. I hugged him and shook his hand, “You know what hurts even more than what you call me? To see you wasting away your potential and sit there day after day, doing nothing!” This was perhaps my most teacher-like-voice-while-trying-not-to-crack-and-show-I’m-on-the-verge-of-crying.
Not just DB, today I heard many “This class sucks”, “I hate this class”. In all honesty, I know they are just 13-, 14-year-old angry teenagers, but it still hurt. Every time I experience something terrible on the job, I’d call Zack’s father who proved to be a great support with encouragement and belief. I felt a lot better after speaking with him for over an hour on the phone.
A great accomplishment on my behalf. One day, I was under the influence of Ron Clark and made a difficult bet with them. “If you all can learn the material you need for the standardized test in March, I will learn something difficult for you.” I only made such a promise with two classes, one 7th grade and one 8th grade. For the 7th grade class, they were satisfied that I’d learn the Pledge of Allegiance in Navajo, while for the 8ther grade class, they pouted and complained it was too easy. Instead they wanted me to learn the National Anthem in Navajo. Done! I said. After weeks of practicing and everyday silently reciting the pledge and listening to the Rodmilla Cody track more than a hundred times on repeat, I finally got down the two promises. Now I can sing the song and recite more than half by memory. I’m quite proud of myself. Other than few basic Navajo greetings, I can finally say few things completely.
Finally the night comes when I need to drop off the dogs. I waited for DJ and her family are ready to leave after the basketball game, I packed up their belongings, putting the toys in one bag and foodstuff in the trunk. I had Jasper in my lap and Casper in the kennel in the back. It was heartbreaking actually. When I finally decided to give away one dog, I find myself couldn’t let her go because I’ve finally started to love her. The dirt road seemed endless from 491. After turning around at the graffiti-stricken windmill and miles in the dark, it took almost 40 minutes on the bumpy ride to get to their shattered trailer unit and meet her mother and brother. It took me awhile to let them go without a proper goodbye. It was still heartbreaking. It was amazing how far they lived, I couldn’t imagine what time DJ wakes up to walk to the bus stop.
I came home it was already close to 10. Since the following day was going to be my last in the school, I popped over by Sarah and Anne’s because they had a little something wrapped in training pads for me. They gave me two bottles of red wine (I’d only drink it to share of course!) and a set of wine glasses. Looking back on this month, Nora and Leigh each gave me a beautiful Navajo Christmas pin, “It’s a Navajo tradition to wear it in December”, they said. Somewhat ironic, but I was so grateful to find that after months when I thought I was out there all by myself, I was not after all. I made friends who care a great deal about me and I finally feel fit in. I am looking forward to the rest of the year and another couple of years with the same people, hopefully.
Last day before I take off. Had students take my final exam for the unit while I gave out the books as their Christmas presents. Some are so ungrateful or perhaps they are not just too cool for school, but too cool for gifts from their teacher as well. At least I got several, “Do you have Tom Sawyer? YES! I’ve been wanting one for so long!” After school, it was chaos, while I needed to finish my last bus duty, Mr. Pierce from T2T grant came for an interview, at the same time, I had numerous students who came to ask how they can raise their grades… Now it’s a matter of grasping content material. Their hard work and doing all of their work paid off, but they perform poorly on exams, which is something else we need to work on, and is not something that can be altered over night. For some reason, all they believe is that they are missing work not whether or not they understand the material.
The interview goes over smoothly. I think I answered all the questions professionally and with a touch of “Keren-ness” to it. The grant is awarded to me, along with a laptop bag and several books, including the Harry Wong one that I’ve been dying to get a hold of. I feel very secure now financially seeing that my courses will be paid for by the foundation. Whew, another financial baggage off my back.
Racing to correct all the tests and quizzes so that I can enter the grades. But the server’s down! Frustrated, I went home to “Pack”, throwing everything in the suitcase, zipper up and leave! I miss Jasper and Casper already. Left the front porch light on so as if someone is home. Yeah right. Drove for two hours in the dark towards Grants and had dinner with Leah. First time driving south on 491 in the dark. Normally it’s north homebound. Arrived in Grants around 8PM, ate ritually at El Cafecito, the usual.
Bought a steering wheel lock at Wal-mart. Left Leah’s at 5;20 in the morning to drive to ABQ airport. Parked my car, fumbled with the lock but finally managed to work it. Took the shuttle to the airport where everything worked out perfectly. One breakfast burrito lasted me until the evening. Received and dialed numerous phone calls with NMS, the DVD player on my computer isn’t working, what’s the backup plan? Luckily, Mr. Chapman the sub was highly understanding and said they’d take care of it just enjoy your holidays. Sigh, I am forever grateful for the never-ending support from the staff. Mrs. Worthy, the counselor, also called to wish me a happy holidays. Perhaps this is their way of enticing me to stay on the Rez, but I am already bought.
Climbed fences over at LaGuardia Airport, possibly one of the worst international airports around. Walked from United terminal to US Airway Terminal, go through the wrong walkway, and had to climb a fence with flat post on it.
I waited to be at the end of the line because I wanted to be smart and not rush. I was the last and feeling all cool about it. Until the staff closed the entrance door and told the last 4 of us that we could not get on because the plane had a weight-limit and right now it is “overweight”. Even though we had our own tickets, we had to take a detour trip to DC (Reagan, not Dulles as the representatives were saying) and back up towards Burlington again.
There we were, four girls stranded in the capital of our nation, downing beers while we chatted and I worked on entering grades. One of the girls was a business consultant for Ben and Jerry’s, so she gave us each two ice cream coupons. Pretty sweet. I was also able to get all the grades in. In the end it works out well, I got a free round-trip ticket, still got into Burlington that night (even though we arrived home a bit late), got two Ben and Jerry’s coupons and was able to complete my work.
On the plane, I sat next to a 5-year-old little girl who was very chatty and friendly. We became instant friends. They were headed towards Rosemont which is more north than Laval. One mother carrying two children, I help her out with the logistics, luckily I love little kids, sometimes I wish I taught elementary. We shared laughs, stories, monsters, crayons, tic-tac-toe (“You are Miss Tic tac toe), and airplane mini-pretzels. Her mom appreciated my patience, and so did everyone else on the plane. The Ben and Jerry’s lady turned around afterwards when we were de-loading and whispered, “You are a saint”. I smiled and thought to myself, “I’m a teacher with infinite amount of patience.”
Shared stories with aunt and uncle on the way back. “You have adventure at every turn of the corner.” They remarked. Yes that is true, there’s adventure in everything, it’s all about your attitude. Surprisingly, I found that I accomplished a lot, did a lot, made a lot of friends and have an endless amount of stories to tell. I am turning into a storyteller.
Feeling slightly awkward and overwhelmed when I am suddenly thrown back into civilization where men and women appear to be out of a TV show or a magazine, where fashion roam the streets streamed with sparkling Christmas lights. Shared a cup of Starbucks with “Top Ten unsolved mystery” at the bookstore while waited semi-impatiently for a friend who was 45 minutes late. Forever waiting, that’s my calling. Can’t suppress the urge to take a street photo every two seconds, when would I get the occasion to share this with my students, “You see, you can go anywhere you’d like, as long as you want to. You can be anything you want to be.”

Ready to start the new life

2007-07-21T07:51:00.001-07:00

Two most exciting things happened: 1) I bought a new car (Toyota Corolla) and 2) orientation is over, I'm heading back to Montreal just in time for Yao's birthday, and will have some time to prepare long-term unit plan and lesson plans.

But the car, the car is perhaps the most exciting thing on this trip. Sitting in the dealer's office, signing endless number of papers, I was signing my life away, to another era, to another part of my life where I'll be completely independent and free to do whatever. And the car is a symbolic object that points to this fact.

Speaking of freedom, the other day when I was on my 5-hour mission to Shiprock, taking care of various payroll and human resource deals, I was on a really long drive. However, the road was beautiful. With the windows rolled down, bellowing along with Queen, wind traveling through my hair and fingers, I had an overwhelming sense of freedom while driving into the gorgeous red rocks. This is my town, this is my place, this is home now.

I am now a Teacher Rockstar

2007-07-13T08:16:00.000-07:00

Final day of Institute... As I sit here at Davis High School commons area finishing up the final grades and submitting them to the administration, so many thoughts flow through my head. The powerful anecdotes come one after the other since yesterday. At the closing ceremony, all individuals were blown away by the amazing stories that were left in the short 4 weeks we've had with our students. The final dedication to our corps of 2007, a poem written by a corps member from Memphis, was the most memorable event of the night. Perhaps I'll post it one day. All the pieces of writing truly reminded us of what our mission was and how what we did is so profound that we will remember this experience forever. I was inspired.

Today at our last Diversity, Culture and Achievement session, we watched a video clip of 60 Minutes on Marva Collins, an amazing educator who was remembered by her students as the teacher who constantly reminded them that "You can and you will!" By the end of the session, 90% of the room was in tears.

All through out the day, we've been cleaning out our classroom. It does not feel much like the last day of school. Going through the final exam results, I felt elated at the growth my students had made in the past 4 weeks. The average class score on the diagnostic exam on the first day of school 4 weeks ago was a 46. The program calculated an expected average result of 80. On the final exam, my students scored an average of 82. That means they mastered 82% of the objectives. I was so happy for them as I entered the scores one by one. My students made the big goal that I set out for them. In fact, I think they could've been pushed harder, but I'm still so happy for them. Truth of it is, I think they all have these information somewhere in them, with a little patience, time, and logic, they'll eventually figure some things out on their own.

We took a picture together and I kept looking at it - my first students! My first real class of students... :)

Houston - Two days left!

2007-07-11T11:11:00.000-07:00

This is a bit late of an update, already I only have 2 more days left of Institute.

Highlights since last week:

Something happened one day that changed the dynamic in my classroom and I'll always remember this incident with regret and reflection. Over last weekend, I was extremely frustrated because I didn't feel my students would be able to grasp all the objectives by the end of institute, which means they would not pass the final exam, setting a lot of them at a potential to fail the course and not move on to 10th grade. My frustration led me to give a whole schpeal about how I didn't want to waste their time in class, and I don't want them to waste time for each other; therefore, I'm not going to stop the class for something minor they did, or explain to them what they did, and why I'm giving them the consequence they would receive. Everyone listened silently, knowing that I was completely serious about what I said.

Come Tuesday when we were in our "asserting authority" session, we were in groups, trying to figure out a solution for a particular student and situation. I was in a group that was talking about one of my student - it was perhaps my curiosity of how he misbehaves in other teacher's class because he certainly would not be considered as trouble in my class, he comes to class on time, shows up consistently, and even hands in homework on a daily basis.

Perhaps our group work had a subconscious effect on my mood for that day. During the guided practice in the lesson, eveyone was filling in the blanks at an equal pace. One student moved ahead and filled out the entire block. That was OK in fact, because knew he understood the material and really needed some more challenging extension work. However, JH took his paper and began copying the answers. While it was not an exam or quiz, I did not accept his behavior because he DIDN'T know the concepts and material, not to mention that he was supposed to be following the rest of the class. I didn't say a word but took the paper out of his hand and put it back on the other student's desk. Right away, there was a change in facial expression, and a solemn death stare ensued for the rest of the class.

Afterwards, I reflected on what I did. It was hostile and disrespectful of him as a person. I thought about what happened and decided an explanation and even apology was necessary, because perhaps I could forget it the next day, but he might remember it for the rest of his life. After his fourth period, I found him, and told him that I was sorry for disrespecting him but it was because he was disrespecting the rules in my classroom. His response was a simple "OK...". Later my faculty adviser said that it was a good thing what I did because he probably doesn't get apologies from adults very often even when he is not at fault, so an response is better than silence. I guess so, but I wondered how he would behave for the rest of the summer school.

As expected, he remained solemn for the rest of the week and even decided to skip my class one day to 'hang out at the mall'. In fact, it was OK with me because he made a choice and there is only so much I could do. In fact, deep down, I dared him to skip one more time so that he could be simply sent to the principal's office.

Today, our class review of jeopardy went extremely well. I was worried that he would not even try to participate and simply sit there and say "I don't know" as he would often say (to which I would target him and push him to answer - never take "I don't know" for answer!). So I made a rule that said "Two I don't know's would result in an automatic loss of 500 points." But to my surprise, he was thinking the whole time, even when it wasn't his turn to play, and when he did play, he knew all the right answers. In fact, all the students did really well, and some of them were really intense too, trying to figure out the right answer, and trying to answer by raising their hands. It was a funny game today, even I couldn't help but laugh sometimes.

They seem ready for tomorrow. As a little pump-up, I wrote each of them a personal note with a star stuck to the back of it with their name on it. In the note, I mentioned how proud I was of them because they came so far in this class. As the class slowly disperses out the door, CW came in, and said, "Miss, can I get a picture with you?" I totally forgot that I had my camera with me today and would definitely have taken more pictures during the game. I happily took picture with her and JS, my girls and the only two in a class of 8. I have nothing but high hopes for all my students, who are all doing very well in the class.

A moment to reflect

2007-06-29T22:04:00.000-07:00

Three down, two to go. Two more weeks left of Institute, and finally today, I am getting a sense of urgency, as well as a sense of hopelessness and helplessness. Truthfully, after a week of positive encouragements and confidence-building, I felt I've made my students and myself believe that they have mastered all the objectives, learned all that they can, and would be able to score 100% on their midterm exam. Seeing the averages now, I realize there is still much to do, and I question, have all that I have done in the past two weeks been merely futile attempts at this thing called education? While 90% of the students actually improved, they weren't where I thought they would be, where I was confident that they would be. Such smart students who have aspirations to go on and become engineers, nurses, x-ray technicians, history teachers, dancers and choreographers. Faced with this conundrum, I question myself what it is I'm doing wrong and how I can make things work better.

Few moments I've had in the past week:

- Students are finally opening up and not being afraid to ask questions about the content and even outside the content. I am so impressed by this culture that I feel somehow they have created it on their own. At the same time, I am getting ahead of myself and thinking since they are asking the right questions, they must be getting the objective right? Not quite perhaps.

- Yesterday when I was teaching heterogeneous and homogeneous mixtures, I anticipated what was going to happen. In fact, I anticipated it a long time ago, and was having a hard time debating whether I should incorporate a lesson on diversity explicit into my lesson plan, adding a slide about discrimination into the powerpoint presentation or not. If I do, I thought perhaps my students would know that I've been trying to guess what I've been thinking, and this would also mean I have to take time out of my valuable lesson time in order to preach a message. On the other hand, I could simply talk on the spot if they act immaturely, hoping I would not have to go that far if they are mature. They are 9th graders... needless to say, as soon as I said "homogeneous mixtures", one student giggles and blurts out "homo", others around him began to giggle as well. All the way up until that point, we have been progressing through the lesson very well, talking about pizza and laughing together. I knew I was getting on a comfortable level with the students, but I needed to know my line. As soon as I heard what I anticipated, I immediately stopped the class, "Whoa, hold on, we need to have a conversation." I asked the students who laughed, "Why do you think it's funny? Please explain why it's funny." They knew I was being serious and quickly ended their laughing. I brought up the fact that no matter what a person is identified by, what they were doing was discrimination. While I'm not trying to ask them adopt my opinion, I wanted to know what is discrimination and what is intolerance. Moving on with the lesson, no one laughed again whenever the word "homogeneous" came up.

- Same lesson, at the end of the class, everyone went to the posting to look at their grades. Cariyell stays behind, "Miss, I want to talk to you." "What's up?" "Am I doing well in this classroom?" "What do you think?" "Yeah...?" "You have one of the highest grades in this class, you should be so proud of yourself!" She stood there for 10 seconds in a smiling state - it was a moment, I hugged her and told her that I was very proud of her.

- Yesterday morning, I get several hands up when I asked whether anyone thought the homework was difficult. "Can you go over the homework? I didn't get it." I was exhilarated that THEY asked ME, that I went ahead and showed them the problem.

- This morning, Rene asks me right before the exam what happens with N and O when they bond, what kind of covalent bond do they form. It was a question I couldn't even answer simply, because I couldn't even remember whether it was NO or NO2 that had a resonance structure, so I had to give a BS answer. Perhaps this weekend I can find an answer for him.

- Today after our midterm, we sat around in a circle and read together an article on Ellen Ochoa, the first Hispanic female astronaut in space, meant both as a motivational piece but also as a literacy piece. While my read-aloud wasn't as effective, and they weren't taking notes as they were supposed to mainly because I forgot, I stopped at each paragraph to ask some questions about the paragraph so they can relate to it better. But Joel was so excited today that he constantly raised his hands to make a comment, to the point I asked him several times to keep his valuable comments a bit while other students receive a chance to participate. Jeannette pointed out at the end of the class that his attitude is disrupting her willingness to participate, which is frustrating because finally one student is coming around, another is being pushed out of the picture.

- After lunch, I sat down with Danny to go over the homework that he didn't do correctly. While we talked, he asked, "Miss, how long did it take you to learn all this stuff [periodict table]?" "Like you, I went through high school and then college, a long time. ... Danny, you want to go to college right?" "Yeah..." "You will be an amazing engineer." I don't know what triggered it, instead of walking him, he sat in the cafeteria during his free hour of last period to do homework and extra credit. I was almost moved by his increasing confidence and seriousness for hard work. The positive phone calls definitely helped especially when he said his parents are a big influence for him.

I'm beginning to enjoy this job called teaching. While there are the ups and downs, everyday, the one thing that's always constant in my mind is my students.

Two down, Three to go

2007-06-23T09:00:00.000-07:00

After first week at institute, I thought about reporting my progress, my mental and physical well-being etc. So many things happening at once, I didn't even get a chance to visit this website. Now it has been 2 weeks, with one week of officially teaching, I decided to finally record all that has happened as much as possible.

They told us that institue was going to be hard, and no one believed them. With a daily schedule of: waking up at 5AM, getting on the bus at 6:30-6:45, starting your day in the school at 7:10-7:20, ending every day at 4:00, returning back to dorm and continue working on lesson plans until the wee hours into the night, many of us are breaking down from the pressure and stress.

Davis High School is a nice place for the kids, despite the shanty and run-down conditions of the neighborhood that surrounds it. Everyday, you forget what environment you are working with because you are inside this giant bubble. Only on my way home do I realize the reality of the world outside. I have officially been teaching for a week now. It's quite exciting going to class everyday facing my 9 students (1 student seem to have officially dropped out because of family conditions). It is not exciting to go back to my room, writing up lesson plans for the next 2 or 3 days.

All my students are brilliant, they just don't fully realize it. After a week of introducing contents, I truly think they can master the first half of the questions on the test already, especially when they have already see the materials before. With an average of 5 hours of sleep every night, there are definitely times when I feel like a zombie in the classroom, my mind a completely blank slate when I stand in front of my students. Everyday, I realize I'm doing something unsatisfactory, either not delivering my content clearly, giving out poor instructions, not finishing up the guided, and consequently independent, practices on time, etc. My biggest goal for this past week is to get organized and to keep a track of all students' formative assessments, something for some reason, I had not done before. By Friday, I was very organized, and was able to check for tardiness, preparation and homework. Next week, my goal is to follow my lesson plan! Sounds simple, but when I'm in the classroom, I want to make sure everyone understands the material, and it is very difficult when everyone is on a different level. I am finding myself pushing back content material because at the opening of each lesson, I focus so much on review, a result of rushing through practice the lesson before. Although, we are not in any way behind my calendar schedule, but I hope to be on track by the end of the week. Next Thursday, I'm planning for a mid-summer assessment/exam, also a chance to review all the material and catch up.

After this past week, people are already leaving the institute, which is a huge decision that must have taken them a long time to think out. One good friend left too, and it was very disheartening and discouraging to hear, and definitely makes me begin to doubt my own ability as a teacher. It has been a lonely few days even though I don't see him very often around Moody Towers and in school because we teach different subjects, but his departure has left me thinking about a lot of things. I know that whatever decision people choose is one that makes them happier. There is no such thing as a right or wrong decision, it simply means that we are a different track in life, a way which will take you somewhere else than you initially planned. Which is OK, and I am fine with that. "Quitting" is such a negative idea, as if not doing Teach for America is the wrong choice, but it really isn't that way. I am confident that I can continue and the same for the rest of our New Mexico corps and the rest of our CMA group, and I know that whatever happens at the end is the choice that will all of us happy. All we need along the way, is a little perspective. Why am I here for the summer? My reasons: Joel, Danny, Cariyell, Jeannette, Gustavo, Azahel, Christopher, Efrain, and Rene.

Two weeks down, three more to go before heading back to the land of enchantment.

Davis High

2007-06-12T15:06:00.000-07:00

6/11/07 Jefferson Davis High School, Houston, TX

5:30 AM Slowly woke up from the alarm clock. It's too early... but I did get enough sleep the night before.

6:00 AM Breakfast in the RfoC (cafetaria) - 500 people congregated together, fighting for the breakfast line, coffee line and the fruit line. Stepping outside the common, the lunch line is jammed with professionally-dressed bodies - everyone needs a lunch at school. Knowing I very well might miss the bus, I stepped into the line because I cannot miss the opportunity for food.

6:36 AM "Davis bus is right there", the TFA staff pointed to the first bus. I followed her finger and we both stared for 5 seconds as the bus slowly pulled away. Amidst all the chaos, I wanted to chase after it like I normally do, but thought of a better alternative. Ben and I rode followed the bus, I was still slightly bitter that I couldn't catch up to it. Starting tomorrow, my goal is to catch the bus at all times - that's my big goal for the summer.

7:00 AM - 4:00 PM Nine hours of presentations after presentations, speeches followed by more. So much information to take it, yet so little time. The one deeply ingrained motivation that sustained me throughout the day were the stats on state standards in the TFA regions. The results of low expectations is finally hitting me as I read aloud the stats for New Mexico:

"By 4th grade, apx. 92% of Native American students score "basic or below basic" on a national reading exam (leaving only about 8% proficient or advanced). By 8th grade, apx. 96% score basic/below basic on a national math exam (leaving only about 4% proficient/advanced)"

We also broke up into our Corps Member Advisory (CMA) groups, which we will be spending a lot of times with for the next 4 weeks. That's mind-boggling, 25 days altogether at the insitute, and only 20 days altogether to teach students, who are in a credit-recovery program, which would enable them to either graduate or move onto the next grade. Such a short amount of time to cover materials and watch them grow in terms of academic progress.

The rest of the day was a blur with an overload of information that I don't think I'll be able to absorb all at once.

4:50 PM Discovered the University of Houston's athletic center and the natatorium. Huge pool! So many lanes... Luckily I bought a swim suit not too long ago. The swim felt great, definitely a much needed stress-reliever from a day of chaos.

6:00 PM A rushed dinner, fighting for the multiple food line.

7:00 PM After the little time I had with to eat my food, we rushed over to the auditorium to attend the opening ceremony. Each corps region had their own cheer, the bigger groups obviously was a lot louder than us. All the crazyness was very intense... The night went on after all the regions were introduced, 3 corps members went on the stage to describe their teaching experience. Wendy Kopps, the founder and now CEO of TFA, also came on stage and gave a speech, but it wasn't as aspiring and exciting as the three corps members' story. Most people were almost on the verge of tears, including myself. It's good that we are getting more and more aspired and motivated.

Hello Houston!

2007-06-11T03:59:00.001-07:00

We started off from Gallup two hours after induction ended on Friday the 8th. A large group of us caravaned south towards Texas. The first night we ventured all the way past Van Horn and stopped in Fort Stockton, TX at 2 in the morning. I drove for the last bit of that trip, and soon fell asleep on the floor as we all settled in the tiny motel room.

Saturday June 9th
Changed up partners in the car, and continued on towards Austin, TX where we were planning on staying in one corps member's apartment. Turned out there were about twenty of us, finding any space available on the floor to sleep. Many people still haven't finished their pre-institute work (what we have to do to prepare for the summer training) and were frantically watching DVD, reading the curriculum guide, and typing up reflections. Others, including myself, who have finished everything, went out to downtown Austin after dinner at a local bar/restaurant, to celebrate our diligence. Downtown Austin reminded me much of downtown New Orleans before Hurricane Katrina, with all the same type of people walking around and the same type of show going on. Suddenly, I miss Montreal very much. After a night of pub crawling, we returned to a silent house filled with people sleeping in all corners and positions.

Sunday June 10th
Houston in sight! The campus was bustling with cars and people. I felt like entering university all over again, with carts for moving luggages and boxes. Never been in a dorm before, except for New Rez, but that was very different I feel (i.e. we had our own bathroom). Went to Target and purchased some necesseities. Wondering what the next 5 weeks will be like.

Week in Gallup

2007-06-09T16:16:00.000-07:00

6/5/07

Interview day - Newcomb Middle and High school, right next to the elementary school, chapter house (of the Navajo nation - for tribal election and meetings), and a senior center.

The principal asked questions from a list that I could not discern how well i was doing: How would you teach creativity, responsibility, and critical thinking in your classroom? How would demonstrate discipline in your classroom? It was a tough interview, more so than some of the others I feel. He even took us two potential science teachers around teh school. Both middle and high schools were fairly new, less than 10 years old, with new astroturfs, desks, and computers. However, the principal lamented that the school has yet to achieve AYP (adequate yearly progress that stemmed from the No Child Left Behind legislations). What's happening right now across the country is that many corporates are buying out failing schools, rewriting its curriculums in order to raise the standard scores. This is true for Newcomb as well, it is bought over by America's Choice, which is supposed to "bring us the light".

In the afternoon, we had a presentation from one of our university partner, Western New Mexico University. Although I'm not sure if I will participate in their licensure program (first year teachers are required by law to go through courses in order to obtain a level IA license to teach across U.S.), one thing I was struck on was that they mentioned how people do come and go in this region, students are very much used to the idea of ephemeral presence. That's pretty powerful, and the thought in my head for a long time.

I couldn't get a handle on how i did during the interview, but during dinner at the Gallup's local Coal Street Pub, I found out that the Principal in fact did like me in the interview, and I am 99% hired (1% due to a more complicated hiring process) as the new 7th-8th grade science teacher at Newcomb Middle school. Ten feet away from there, two other Teach for America corps members are hired as a special education (for gifted students) and high school language arts teachers. Since we are on the reservation, we'll be sharing a room together on teacherages, which are trailer housings for teachers. Hopefully we'll be able to adopt stray dogs since they'll be common around the area.

After dinner, we watched an amazingly choreographed Native American dance in the square outside the town courthouse. Each dance, whether it was the weave or hoop dance, had a specific explanation that went along with it. It was so impressive...

I felt really lucky that night, because I didn't have to go through so many days of interviewing, stress and anxiety.

6/6/07

More presentation, but this time, University of New Mexico included a Navajo introduction greeting of the "Beauty Way" song, that I thought I wanted to hear more. The professor who performed the song emphasized the role of teachers to introduce "a world of unknown to a world that is unknown to everyone" and what education truly means in the Native American community. Perhaps this will be my university for the next two years, if not three?

After that presentation, we headed off to Rocky View Elementary School for some community service, laying down weed stoppers and then gravel to re-landscape the weed laden front yard. Today was so windy that pebbles and gravel constantly were blown across the ground, hitting our shoulders, backs, and legs, each resulting in some paintful resonances. Apparently, the wind went up to 69 miles/hour, crazy! but normal weather for NM it appears. I still felt that it was the most fun I've had this entire time.

The afternoon went by like a blur. Dinner at Salsa: the entire restaurant was closed for our purpose. The state question of New Mexico is "Red or Green?" which meant do you want red or green chili, personally, I prefer the green, but you can also mix, and it is then called "Christmas".

Karaoke tonight was insane, more fun then "Vocals" I'd say because everyone was really into it. We definitely discovered some bad singers. One previous corps member commented that we were "well-received by the community", I question it: really?

6/7/07

More presentation, last one with Santa Fe Community College - I spent the rest of the day weighing my options - between SFCC and UNM. Another option of Transition to Teaching Grant came up, which would potentially pay for all cost of the licensure program (i.e. the university or community college courses), however, it requires a 3-year committment to teaching at the same school I am placed at. I thought hard and long about it and talked about several times with my program director, and decided that a 2-year committment MAY in fact very well turn into a 3-year committment. Such an important and serious life decision, and I feel I have so little time to decide about it (approximately 3 months!). What astounds me is that a year ago, I would have never thought I would be a teacher, and now I'm contemplating on a third year in a place I am just getting to know. This is one of the core values that we have seen - upholding a sense of possibility - I do like the idea of options. The grant is for a 3-year committment, but if you don't finish the 3rd year, you can pay back that one year of payment, which is a cheap way of getting courses paid by the state. I don't want to burden the grant with such a decision because if I want to committ to something, I do want to think hard about it, especially when it is such a short amount of time.

We then moved to the JFK middle school to observe some schools, I won't go into the technics here, but getting a sense of the students age-group made me feel slightly more comfortable about teaching at the middle school. The school was made simply of a group of trailers that composed of classrooms. It was so different from the other schools that we have seen so far. It was such a different sense of communtiy especially from where I'll be, a more isolated and new school environment with new turfs.
The dinner at El Rancho Kitchen was a lot of fun, getting to know other corps members from our year or last year, Definitely some crazy laughing - finally, after 4 days, people's personality are gradually revealing themselves, hearty laughing, blatant joking, and discrete comments. We are getting a sense of who everyone is now, people we'll be spending a lot of time with for the next two years, if not three.

6/8/07

The last day of our induction. In the morning, we had some review of our core values as a corps, the panel on summer Houston Insitute was perhaps the most helpful throughout the last 4 days in terms of knwoing what life will be like down there all summer. We started off on the road shortly after lunch, caravan-style. A night of long-driving, but we finally stopped at Fort Stockton at 2 in the morning, 6 girls crowded in a miniature room, and were still able to get through the night.

6/9/07

Arrived in Austin through a series of adventures, passing through Fredrickburg Texas. More to come!