Picture Day

I was at the Swedish embassy the other day to renew my passport where the lady behind the glass tells me, "Now stand on the yellow feet and look into the camera. No smiling. You have to look serious."
I look serious.
The camera clicks. I imagine the megabits of picture zooming through fibres to appear on the lady's computer screen.
A pause.
She finally ventures, "Maybe you should smile just a little."

Oh, really?

Errand Saturdays

Every now and then I'll have a Saturday completely taken up by errands. The morning began with me hanging up curtains in my room and nearly killing myself in the process, after which I packed my two long skirts into my bag and took the bus to Arab Street to look for similar fabric. I am pleased to say I found a royal blue cotton that I hope will make a fine skirt. I also bought nine metres of maroon velvet to make into stage curtains for the back of my classroom.
"It's fifteen dollars per metre. But thirteen for you, because you're pretty."
Yeah, I am pretty--pretty sure thirteen is double the production cost. But I don't mind paying for good service.

I have been meaning to get to Arab Street, but I had been putting it off because I am usually so intimidated by merchants and the general hipster vibe of the area, what with its jazz bars and hookah hang-outs and strange clothing stores. I just don't feel cool enough to be there legitimately.

It fascinates me that they have taken old Chinese shophouses and remade their fronts to look like European candy stores from the 1800s.

This reminds me of my friend Björn Sparrman. He loves both bikes and Japan. 

Expensive tacos. 

This was by far the best store I encountered. I wanted to buy almost everything in sight--a pencil case treasure map made out of leather, a box made to look like a stack of books, a clock with a frame made out of classic literature. There was a particular clock I wanted to buy for a friend, but it was a bit expensive, and I'll have to put aside some money in the future.

For those of you who do not know, Singapore was once a port of some significance in South East Asia, during which people from all over the world settled on this tiny, tropical island. The Brits obviously left their mark--Sir Stamford Raffles was the one who founded Singapore in 1819--and the Dutch East India Company left behind Holland Village. The Arabs, known for dealing in fabrics, left an entire street that still specializes in the sale of fabrics and carpets, which is now also host to the aforementioned bistros and hookah bars. I like that Singapore is such a collection of people and places, influences and cultures.

Small Victories

I am sitting on my couch at ten o'clock in the morning, listening to the wind buffet the palm trees. A windy day here in the tropics. I think back upon this last week, and how much I love my work. It can be completely exhausting, and certainly there are moments when my lessons have suffered from lack of creativity from my own inexperience. But I have had many other victories.

Jason Joo, this easy-going eighth grader, fist bumped me when I was leaving.

Chloe told me my cheeks look like apples when I smile.

My second grammar class was particularly quiet for a Friday.

I made my seventh graders bring a scarf to class for homework (it was vaguely related to the literature we were reading) and then they wore turbans for the rest of the period. They were very enthusiastic and called for a turban day to be instituted.

Nagisa and Yuko, two eighth graders, shyly told me they loved my dress as they passed me in the hall. Jung Min, was hanging by my elbow, waiting for the next class to begin. He overheard and regards me meaningfully. "Yeah, Miss Gabriel. I love your dress too."
I couldn't help but laugh at his expression.

Little Katherine, the spitting image of Lucy from the Narnia series, asked me if she could possibly have four body paragraphs instead of three in her upcoming paper on Christian imagery in The Cay ("Ms. Gabriel, I was planning my paper, and I realized there was a lot to say about baptism. I was wondering if I could write another paragraph?" Could you? I wanted to say. Could you?! Of course! Can I do more than the expected amount of work? Yes, yes, by all means! Go forth and prosper!)

On the whole, my sixth graders are impossibly bright. So far we have discussed the literary concept of the microcosm, parallel events, the recurring element of blindness and second sight in literature, allusion and imagery as seen in the baptism and crucifixion scenes in The Cay.

It has to be one of the best places to work. High up on the fourth floor, I am close to the skies in next to the tops of the trees. I have high ceilings in my room. I have friends and colleagues who love what they do and strive to bring the most creative aspects to class to teach their lessons. Brad, our resident history teacher, is using the school handbooks to teach the idea of the legislative process and how change has to go through a series of channels before the new rules are finally put into effect. The class has even elected a President.

As much as I enjoyed history, I do not remember having such things available to me as a child, but then again, we are in a new age and education looks different. The current push is for Project Based Learning where learning takes place through a sustained project, during which the students can discover and use concepts for themselves. It helps that I have no experience whatsoever. Seeing as it's all Greek to me, I have no need to 'unlearn what I have learned.'

Lately

There are pleasures that come with the tropics and in Singapore particularly. It is such a green city--even in the middle of Orchard Road you can find massive trees that provide beauty and shelter from the sun.

A pair of dogs pushed about in a tram 

A carefree monitor lizard in the Botanic Gardens 

Peranakan shophouse 

Three men on the phone 

Lauren McKnight, my friend from Australia, reading a book in Swedish

Glasses

Yesterday I wore a white shirt, black legging, and my brand-spankin'-new glasses from Cotton On. I don't usually wear shades, but I felt I was channeling my sister's fashion sense, and none of her outfits are complete without sunglasses. Here's to you, Sofia.

Frankenstein

I understand the joy of the model train aficionado. Because I am a writer with a limited attention span, I oftentimes do not like sitting down to write chronically. I do not have the determination and tenacity of say, Gary Schmidt, who consistently writes 500 words a day, picking up exactly where he left off. Rather, I'm a bit of a flake, a wayward upstart overrun with conflicting whims and shallow affections, endlessly growing bored with the first passage and running off to the next chapter in hopes of fresh entertainment. Once bored, I am hopeless, and I must begin something unrelated, another chapter, a new viewpoint, a different angle--and with a start, I realize the two parts can fit together with a bit of tweaking, cannibalizing bits of a chapter--an arm here, a leg there--and slowly, slowly hooking them together like cars on a railroad, running electricity through the sum of their parts and finding that it's alive! It's alive! 

What's Up

Dear Friends,

I haven't written in a very long time because Christmas and New Year came and went, followed by Lauren McKnight from Australia, and several other small adventures, like catching a cold and watching embarassing amounts of Charles in Charge and writing in coffee shops. My computer has died now, unceremoniously--as previously mentioned, the b and v buttons gave out, then the spacebar expire, and now the drive has ceased to function. I need to find a repairman fluent in Swedish, as my language settings are currently set to my native language with little hope of change.

As for school, my newspaper crew has doubled, and I am currently teaching three novels in two different classes. How do I manage, you ask? I had given out the copies of Lois Lowry's The Giver to my first seventh grade but when I got there, the cupboard was bare, and so my poor second seventh grade had none. Instead they received Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time. That is all well and good, except I am starting to get them confused and I does perturb me slightly that I haven't the faintest idea how to teach a novel.

The one thing that pleases me most at the moment is my netbook, on which I have written a great deal. For the past few days I have worked on my story and even managed a few details on a short story idea, and you know how I struggle with short stories.

Mainly, I have been focusing on using description to further the plot, as every element must play a part and turn back to the cohesive whole.