I was in America reading a British news article about a French helicopter crash that involved a Hong Kong boy that was my student in China.
Charles was the student who had me wrapped around his finger.
Make that eight fingers and two thumbs.
I didn’t get upset when he left QQ wrappers in the desk.
Which he did.
And I’ll miss.
I gave him atomic fireballs and lemon heads for speaking up in class.
I allowed him to shoot rubber bands at the 8th graders while they gave presentations.
He was shy and the spittin’ image of his father whom I met at teacher conferences. Lam thanked me for teaching his son and chuckled at Charles’ photo-shopping of a school project.
The ocean isn’t big enough for all of our tears. I’ll miss Charles’ comments in class, especially his desire to know everyone’s favorite color.
He was supposed to eat stinky cheese for me in Paris (he missed the weird food party we had in class since he left a day before Christmas break began).
Charles didn’t finish his novel. Why? I excused Charles and other students to play in the snow—yes snow— instead of working on their stories in class.
Charles made a mini snowman which he brought into my classroom.
It melted all over his desk but left a beautiful memory.
Life and death are one thread,
the same line viewed from different sides. Lao Tzu
I usually am not excited to listen to elevator music. But when Kenny G announced that Kunming would be on his world tour, I snatched up two smooth tickets at a pretty price.
When you live on the flip side, you just crave hearing anything that reminds you of “back home”, even if it’s what you hear in dentist offices.
I was tempted to bring a sign that read, “I CAME ALL THE WAY FROM DETROIT TO HEAR YOU!”
But instead, I brought my friend DouDou.
She enjoyed it, but she enjoys anything that allows her to practice English.
The concert was in the Kunming Sport’s arena.
The place wasn’t packed. Still, the crowds ate up his saxophone playing and Men’s Hair Club “I’m too old for this hair style locks”.
Our top dollar seats were located in the nosebleed section.
I took pictures but my camera was stolen.
Kenny offered an autograph session after his concert.
And just how do you say elevator music in chinese?
So we went to Bangkok for Thanksgiving to gobble up padthai
and durian instead of choking down green jello.
It was warm and
Well sort of.
That’s because Thai citizens made international news over the holiday weekend due to a
peaceful demonstration about their govt.
About a gazillion and a half Thai men, women, and he-shes were
blowing a gazillion and a half whistles, like the ones you used to get out of cracker jack boxes.
Now was the Thai demonstration non-violent?
Now our hotel pool was peaceful.
This anatomically correct sculpture was peaceful.
Street Gods were peaceful, probably because they were
appeased by refreshing bottles of strawberry fanta.
Anyway, I didn’t stay around for the news cameras. I boarded
the subway and made my way to the world’s largest gold Buddha, which was peaceful.
…and saw the world’s largest solid gold butt crack.
So, what’s your idea of a peaceful holiday, or is “a peaceful holiday” the ultimate oxymoron?