This post is about teaching english, ESL style.
You learn things about language teaching it. Speaking your native tongue is like fucking voodoo, I swear to god. You can use these things called words perfectly everytime, only you have no conscious idea how they actually work. Much like ESL, this can only be explained with examples. You are a teacher. Your student has a question.
"What's the difference between bring and take?"
What do you say? You look up and to the left. You open your mouth slightly, but no words come. Six seconds is an eternity, but still not long enough for you to find the answer. You're supposed to be a professional english teacher.
The impatient student asks, "So do I say "Take it to the party" or "Bring it to the party"?"
"Both are ok," you say. "They're the same."
And you'd be wrong. A really fucking good teacher will say:
"Take is like go. Bring is like come."
There's evidence. You can come to me. You can bring me that book. You can't go to me, you can't take the book to me.
Have you ever thought about that before? I swear teaching english is like being asked how to walk. You just do, you don't know how. Only english isn't like walking, it's like moonwalking - it often doesn't make logical sense, and there is no why, no reason other than pure lunacy.
For example, at 60km/h, why can you be riding on a train but not riding on a taxi?
Why can you make a new friend but not make a new girlfriend?
I swear, I'm switching to Esperanto.
Friday, 25 January 2008
Tuesday, 8 January 2008
It's too loud, I'm too old
This new years eve I went clubbing in Shinjuku.
It's been a long time since I've been clubbing. It's something I really enjoy, although most people wouldn't expect that from me. I'm not cool enough I guess.
So my friend Peter and I arrived at Shinjuku station at about 9pm, after having drunk several cans of chu-hai (girly sugary booze drinks) on the train. We were to meet two of his friends at the station but of course they were late, 'cause women are always late.
Their names were Emi and Guri (not her real name, her real name is Midori, which means green, so she got the nickname Guri, which is short for Gureen, which is how Japanese people pronounce the colour.) Anyway, immediately I got the cold shoulder from Guri, and Peter stuck to Emi as they knew each other already.
So we get to the club, pay the 4000yen entry fee (ouch) take off our warm winter jackets, and put them into the lockers with my glasses. One drink in and a few songs later, Guri says I look much cooler without my glasses.
I think that's only half the story though. I'll let you in on a little secret. I can dance. Techno-raver dancing, not proper ballroom/salsa dancing like my brother can. It's obvious who'll be getting more in their thirties.
So yeah, I think my dancing (and the dim lighting, and the booze) made me a tad more attractive and we danced and talked together. About three hours later and I'm pretty drunk. The club has filled up, the new years countdown is over, and I fight my way past at least ten Japanese people wearing sunglasses to get to the toilet. Why people wear sunglasses at night, let alone in a dim club lit only by green neon and the occasional flash of strobe, I'll never know, but it's a goddamn epidemic in Japan. Next time I see someone wearing sunglasses in a club, I'm gonna stab 'em in the face. They won't even see it coming.
I get to the toilet, and being too stingy to pay 600yen for water, I have drink from the sink's tap. About halfway through I look down at the hand that I'm drinking off of, and see a spattering of cigarette ash everywhere except for the path the water has made to my mouth. I don't even care, and don't stop drinking.
Anyway, a few more drinks and some more dancing later, it's 4:30am and I decide to leave the club. I get Guri's mobile phone email address, and walk through the cold winter air to get the train home.
To be honest, I don't think anything will happen between Guri and me, if only because of the fact that she can't speak any english. It's ok to shout at each other and have half a conversation at a club, but outside that I fear the communication barrier will be insurmountable, and unfortunately so will Guri.
It's been a long time since I've been clubbing. It's something I really enjoy, although most people wouldn't expect that from me. I'm not cool enough I guess.
So my friend Peter and I arrived at Shinjuku station at about 9pm, after having drunk several cans of chu-hai (girly sugary booze drinks) on the train. We were to meet two of his friends at the station but of course they were late, 'cause women are always late.
Their names were Emi and Guri (not her real name, her real name is Midori, which means green, so she got the nickname Guri, which is short for Gureen, which is how Japanese people pronounce the colour.) Anyway, immediately I got the cold shoulder from Guri, and Peter stuck to Emi as they knew each other already.
So we get to the club, pay the 4000yen entry fee (ouch) take off our warm winter jackets, and put them into the lockers with my glasses. One drink in and a few songs later, Guri says I look much cooler without my glasses.
I think that's only half the story though. I'll let you in on a little secret. I can dance. Techno-raver dancing, not proper ballroom/salsa dancing like my brother can. It's obvious who'll be getting more in their thirties.
So yeah, I think my dancing (and the dim lighting, and the booze) made me a tad more attractive and we danced and talked together. About three hours later and I'm pretty drunk. The club has filled up, the new years countdown is over, and I fight my way past at least ten Japanese people wearing sunglasses to get to the toilet. Why people wear sunglasses at night, let alone in a dim club lit only by green neon and the occasional flash of strobe, I'll never know, but it's a goddamn epidemic in Japan. Next time I see someone wearing sunglasses in a club, I'm gonna stab 'em in the face. They won't even see it coming.
I get to the toilet, and being too stingy to pay 600yen for water, I have drink from the sink's tap. About halfway through I look down at the hand that I'm drinking off of, and see a spattering of cigarette ash everywhere except for the path the water has made to my mouth. I don't even care, and don't stop drinking.
Anyway, a few more drinks and some more dancing later, it's 4:30am and I decide to leave the club. I get Guri's mobile phone email address, and walk through the cold winter air to get the train home.
To be honest, I don't think anything will happen between Guri and me, if only because of the fact that she can't speak any english. It's ok to shout at each other and have half a conversation at a club, but outside that I fear the communication barrier will be insurmountable, and unfortunately so will Guri.
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