Lâu

My Pre-intermediates (as I affectionately call them) decided to take me out for dinner last night as a pre-Têt celebration.
Têt (which should have another diacritic above it, but my keyboard isn't that special) is the lunar New Year (or Chinese New Year as it is generally known in the West, probably to the consternation of other Asian nations). This happens in just under 2 weeks and is a public holiday. Hurrah.

So, after some discussion in the preceding weeks, it was decided to go for "hotpot" *. I've had various thoughts about Hotpot or "Lâu" since I was told of its existence some nine years ago by my lovely Chinese students back in the UK. I've wanted to try it, but in the right place. And obviously with the right people: it is not a solo dish, or at least I thought this was the case, as you share a big pot of hot stock with your fellow dinners and cook your food in it together. This requires a certain amount of mutual understanding and trust, to my mind.

As it was decided on my behalf that Hotpot was what was to be had, I happily went along having images of being sat cross-legged on the floor around a big steaming communal pot, trying not to eat anybody's bit of Thit Bò (beef) and looking directly out over Truc Bach lake.
It was much better. But not as earthy, and possibly lacking in some of the romantic charm that existed in my imagined version. But it was great and saved any possible problems caused by the fact that I've stopped eating meat** and am a bit clumsy sometimes with my chopsticks, having been known to throw mushrooms all over the table when not paying attention...
The restaurant was, well firstly, a restaurant with tables and indoors and everything. We sat on the top floor, overlooking Truc Bach lake (I got that bit right, just not the height), at a modern wooden table which had individual pot-heaters! We got presented with a plate each of random gubbins consisting mainly of mushrooms and vegetables, but also some tofu***, dumplings (meat), sausage and pig fat.
Then we could choose what source of protein we wanted to submerge in the bubbling stock in front of us. I went for salmon - from Sapa, apparently. Nice and, as I was cooking it, was exactly right.
It was a whole interactive and entertaining way to eat, which also seemed to me to be the definition of slow food. You choose your ingredients, you cook them and you eat them. It sounds simple, but this sequence of events makes you focus entirely on what you're eating which is the best way to do it, in my opinion.
The company was pleasant and I was looked after. I was also forbidden from paying anything, which is standard practice, if a little frustrating. I'll return the favour in some way, I'm sure.

It's nice to be teaching adults again.



* note to English folk: this has NOTHING to do with Lancashire hot pot
**this happened in December. I don't know how long it's going to last, and I eat fish. I'm not calling myself a vegetarian, or even a "pesky-tarian" (as a canadian friend calls it) because I'm not - I am just unwilling, for health and lack of knowledge as to the origin of the meat in this country, to eat meat at the moment. It may change any time. It may not. But I'm not going to label myself as having that lifestyle, when I'm not entirely sure that I do.
 My students reacted with a shocked look, akin to the reaction I would expect if I'd told them I had a terminal disease, and asked "but..... why?"...
***Also being avoided after a massive hormonal upset due to replacing meat and dairy with soy products at the beginning of the year. Really - it's not good for you in those quantities.

Lessons of the week

Things I learned yesterday:

It is possible to change money without any form of ID or paperwork in this country.
It is not possible to then pay USD into a USD account without proving that it is yours.
Apparently possession means nothing here, origin is everything.

Interesting.

Especially given that one shows ones status by one's possessions not by one's origin, at least to my eyes.
There are definitely inconsistencies in this society.

On trees

Tonight, when walking down my street to my abode I stumbled across two separate trucks with a fully grown tree, roots and all, on the back of each.

What's that all about then, do you think?

I should be a.......

...fraid?

No. I just, for a whole variety of reasons, took an online "What job is right for me?" test.

Guess what came out top?

It wasn't teacher, surprisingly (I may or may not be being sarcastic there).

Actually the two most suited jobs to me (based on my answer to fifteen questions, and not taking into account qualifications or what I've been wasting time doing for the last 15 years) are
1. Environmental scientist (!!!!)
2. Writer.

Interesting............

dancing in foreign lands

So, I went to my first ballet lesson in 20 years today. It was an interesting experience, not least of all because the class was conducted mainly in thiscountryese and the teacher and all of the other students made a concerted effort to translate things into English.

The thing with dancing is that you don't actually need to understand the language that it's being taught in, because it's completely physical. At one point I tried to explain that I understood here (in my head) but not here (in my legs). There is a vague memory of all these movements and positions, but my body has forgotten them. But hey, it's been twenty years and I've been through a bit of a physical trial since I last attempted a jump and plié.

It was enjoyable, especially when the endorphins kicked in. But mainly it was an exercise in discipline. For many reasons. I'm not sure I would try this in my own country largely due to self-consciousness. But here I'm already a curious abomination when I enter the class, so what comes after is uphill. I have serious physical limitations, but there is that seriously determined core within me to make me keep at it. And being the much larger western lass gives me a lot of leeway in terms of teacher expectation. Which means I basically come out winning.

It's also fascinating in terms of staging. I'm currently, for my sins, undergoing a TYLEC* pilot at my place of employment and we looked at staging last week in terms of language teaching. Ballet, or indeed any kind of dance class has a very careful staging necessity - if you want to be able to perform the dance you need to warm up the requisite parts, learn the basic moves, elaborate these moves and then eventually put it all together. Which is exactly what staging is all about. The parallel between this and language learning is uncanny and something I suspect I should share with my tutors.

All fun and educational in many ways. I'm still on the endorphin rush, but suspect I'll be in pain in the morning. Regardless, I'm going back next week. Western Abomination of a Physical Wreck has a mission...


*Teaching Young Learner Extension/English (not sure which) Course

pressies!

All birthday presents are good - the bizarre ones, the thoughtful ones, the eccentric and the surprisingly generous. I did quite well on all the above this year, thanks to my lovely bunch of friends and family.

Then there are the late ones, which have a special charm all of their very own, particularly when they are in the form of long triangular chocolate bars presented to you on a Friday afternoon.*

Much joyful sugar consumption followed.

Little pleasures, unexpected, always make for a happy me.






*that's mid-week for me.

Tremors

Ok, my flat just moved. Not for very long, only about 10 seconds, but it definitely moved.
Looking out the window nobody seems remotely fazed by this.

My first instinct, as I was sat on the sofa having coffee, was to wonder if I should get dressed immediately or not. There was no repetition of the tremor so I looked it up on google instead. Lo and behold I found this which I'd missed entirely.

Interesting start to the day.