All posts by kathy

Burglary!

Let’s say you own a house in the Philippines. Just your average house in an average middle-class subdivision in Cavite, say. It’s not the best-looking house in the block, but heck, it’s proudly yours and you have spent quite a fortune having it built.

image Unfortunately, you are still abroad and couldn’t quite yet decide on whether to live there permanently or not. You don’t like the idea of having it rented, because you want it ready for you each time you go back for short visits. The concept of having other people live there is just…ghastly. You want the place all for your own.

So for the moment it’s just sitting there, unoccupied. And because the subdivision has tall perimeter walls and gates guarded 24/7 by security guards, you sort of feel assured that nothing will happen to the house.

One day, your caretaker informs you that there has been a forced entry into your house. How would you feel?

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My Job for Yours?

Read something interesting in the news today. The headline reads:

Australia offers ‘best job in world’ on paradise island

The job purportedly pays 150,000 Australian dollars (105,000 US dollars) and includes free airfares from the winner’s home country to Hamilton Island on the Great Barrier Reef. According to the article, "…the "island caretaker" will be expected to stroll the white sands, snorkel the reef, take care of "a few minor tasks" — and report to a global audience via weekly blogs, photo diaries and video updates."

image
Care to lounge? Photo taken at Sofitel Resort Hotel in Haikou, China (2007).

Hey, I’m sure I could do the weekly blog, photo diaries and video updates. Although I’m not sure that I would fit the bill completely. That’s because I’m not quite an outdoors person, I’ve never snorkeled my whole life, and I couldn’t even swim properly. So much for that. 🙁 But heck, I’m willing to learn – I guess I better start equipping myself with necessary skills to get the "best job in the world." 🙂

Continue reading My Job for Yours?

Magical Eight

Something magical started on the sixth of January, eight years ago. It was a Saturday, and yours truly was then a young bride about to be given away by my father. The church was decorated by crimson-red flowers and ribbons. The bridesmaids all wore red gowns. I held a bouquet of red and white roses in my hands. You’d think that it was a Chinese wedding, but really it was just your average church wedding, only that the bride’s choice of color was bloody red, her favorite color. The redder, the better. 😀

108-0823_IMG I could still remember it as if it were yesterday. While Baggy and I exchanged our vows, we looked straight into each other’s eyes. That was the highlight of the ceremony for me. Baggy’s unwavering gaze, showing how firm and resolute he was about deciding the spend the rest of his life with me. I gazed back with all intensity I could muster. 🙂 Fraught with emotions, my Daddy cried. It was probably the first time he openly cried in public.

Eight magical years later, and we find ourselves in another land far away from our home. Actually, we’re not one of those couples who’d go to extra pains to celebrate anniversaries. We want to keep it simple, without much fanfare. The important thing is that we’re together. What’s more, our darling daughter is with us, making our family complete. She’s the light of our lives.

Eight years, and counting. Here’s to more magical years ahead!

Driving, at Last

Finally, I am now doing something which was rather unthinkable a couple of months back: driving my own car in Cambridge. I had to hurdle two main obstacles to achieve this. First was to justify my so-called need for a car. With our residence close to the city center, the university and Aya’s primary school, we really don’t need a car. On weekdays, that is. Weekend after weekend found me wanting to have a car so we can at least go somewhere farther than a 1-kilometer radius from our house. It’s great that I can just order my groceries online and have them delivered at home, but call me old-fashioned or whatever, I admit that I did miss the "joys" of going to the store and picking up whatever I wanted off the shelves. You know that feeling? Just go and grab something you want. If the veggies don’t look as fresh as you want them, throw them back in and grab something else. You can pinch and grope and inspect products at your whim, after all, you’re the almighty consumer! You feel like you’re in control of your shopping. It’s just different when you look at products online. And besides, what better reason is there than the fact that I do have a little girl with me, and I couldn’t just drag her across town to get groceries in close to zero degree weather! And let me not remind you about the rain in Britain!

DSCN2788 The second hurdle was to actually find a car, one that is reasonably within my means and one that satisfies my criteria. I didn’t want to drive a manual-transmission type, so I looked around for automatic-transmission type cars. It took a while, but I finally found one. And I actually got a rather good deal: it even came with a GPS navigation system (or simply, sat-nav). So I just gotta have it! 😀 Of course, I didn’t drive the car all at once using the sat-nav (excited as I was). First I had to rely on a very good friend to help me figure out the roads during a joy-ride around town. 😉

But before driving is the teeny-weeny step of acquiring the car. Well, to my surprise, I found out that it was relatively hassle-free to acquire a car here in the UK, compared to that in Japan.

Continue reading Driving, at Last

The School Dilemma

A few months ago, Baggy and I were faced with a dilemma. We had to make a decision on where Aya will go for her schooling. We had to decide fast, because if Aya were to go to an international school, she will have to enroll in September. But if not, then she goes to public school in April next year.

As you could probably tell, we were fortunately saved from having to make this decision by leaving Japan and going to the UK. Just in the nick of time! No Japanese public school or international school for Aya, she’s going to a primary school in England! Yipee! How cool is that? 🙂 Or as the locals say here, it’s brilliant!

ayaschoolnotice_2 But now, having recently received the official notice for school admission (see image on the left) from the city government (schools are assigned based on residence), we are back to facing the same dilemma. Akala niyo nakaligtas na kayo! After all, we won’t be staying in Cambridge forever, and surely by next year we will be back in Japan. Of course, we are not forced to put our child in the assigned school, but if we do give our consent, all we have to do is return back the card with our details and personal stamp (hanko). If not, then we’ll have to tick one of the boxes at the bottom to explain our reasons/circumstances why we refuse to do so.

Personally, I am not convinced that attending a public school in Japan would be the best thing for our daughter. Why? Primarily because of the following reasons:

Continue reading The School Dilemma

Meet the New PhD Student

I was at the university’s health service the other day for some test required for all new equipment users. The woman at the reception desk took my details – name, date of birth, etc. Then she asked, "Are you a new PhD student?"

I stifled a laugh, but promptly replied, "No, I’m a visiting scientist." I wished that I didn’t have to say "scientist," for it seems to denote someone important, but that’s the official status I have in the department. "Oh," she said, while she gave me a quick look (as if to make sure) and a polite smile.

I found the incident funny, because it reminded me of the numerous times when other people would ask me about my reason for being in the university. I already lost count of the times when people mistook me for a student instead of ehem, someone older. Staff, postdocs and students alike ask me the same question: "Are you a new PhD student?"

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Disillusionment

I probably woke up from the wrong side of the bed this morning. For some reason, I woke up with an intense feeling of homesickness. It was something I haven’t felt in years.

I felt homesick – but not for Japan, the place I have called home for twelve years now. Instead, I felt homesick for the country of my birth. I woke up and felt rather odd that I was buried beneath layers of clothing and a duvet, instead of roasting in the sweltering heat and waking up to the sound of mosquitoes buzzing near my head. I woke up and felt rather puzzled that the sun was nowhere in sight. And, instead of shouts from early vendors hawking their pan de sal in the wee hours of the morning and the familiar hum of tricycles on the street, I woke up to the noise of cars passing by on the road. I looked out the window and saw the barren trees around and remembered how trees in my country never shed their leaves, ever. How one never has to undergo the cruel, harsh cold of the winter season. How the place is always teeming with life.

I suddenly felt out of place.

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Immunisation vs. Immunization

The title above not only refers to the difference in convention of spelling adopted in British English as opposed to that adopted in American English.

image I’ve just recently found out that here in the UK, not only are the recommended immunization schedules different from those in Japan, but there are also required vaccinations for diseases which are not required in Japan. I expected that there would some differences, of course, as conventions vary from country to country. It also depends largely on how old your child is.

However, I was surprised to know that in the UK immunization scheme, Aya is overdue for not just one, but several types of routine childhood vaccines necessary for living in the UK.

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The “Playstation”

Public transportation in Cambridge is not very convenient for me. I live in a place where the city buses do not pass through, and the only way I can get on a bus is to walk about 15 to 20 minutes to the nearest bus station. Cycling would be much faster, but Aya doesn’t have a bicycle yet (and she hasn’t really perfected her biking skills yet). And I’m really not that ready to introduce my daughter to the big, bad world of cycling here in Cambridge. I’ve witnessed firsthand two accidents involving cyclists in my almost two months of stay here. The streets here are just too narrow and the cycling paths are right smack on the road.

Anyway, I’ve become quite a frequent customer of taxis-for-hire here. I just call them up to book a taxi, and within minutes of my call, the taxi will pick me up from wherever I am and take me to my destination.

Getting the taxi is fairly simple. The only problem is talking to the receptionist who takes the calls. Sometimes the person speaks with a very strong accent, I could barely understand what he or she is saying. I consider myself as a highly fluent English speaker, but sometimes I just have difficulty understanding their words, especially when spoken with a very heavy accent.

One time, I ordered for a taxi and instructed them to bring the taxi to the bus stop where we got off. The guy on the other line told me, "No, the taxi couldn’t come to the bus stop, that’s only reserved for buses. You’ll have to go to the playstation."

Continue reading The “Playstation”

Convenient living, the UK way

Sure, so there are no convenience stores around which are open 24/7. Sure, the grocery stores close at 7 pm or so on weekdays, even earlier on Sundays. And sure, I don’t have my own car here, so mobility could  be a problem (particularly when the weather isn’t cooperating!).

I miss the conveniences of living in Japan, so at first it was a real pain to adjust to the style of living here in the UK. And I hate to admit it, but it was so darn inconvenient during our first few weeks of stay here.

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