It was the best of times, it was the blurst of times

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No doubt you’ve all been desperately wondering how my exams in Paris went and have been sitting on tenterhooks this whole time, straining with burstant anticipation — but I’ll make you read to the end to find out. There’s no easy shortcuts for loyal WTTMB readers I'm afraid.

The trip started off with a highly unglamorous Air Canada night flight to London, featuring frayed upholstery seats and haggard battleaxe flight attendants asking “chicken or beef?”, “chicken or beef?”, “chicken or beef?” — Hey Air Canada; I’ve been answering that same bloody question since I was seven! Why not try something different for a change; curry or fish?, stir-fry or lamb? Christ, anything really! I know that decent airline food is within the realm of the possible, as I had it on Lufthansa in November. Would it kill you to actually make an effort (even though you're a monopoly and can do as you please), couldn't you at least pretend to care about the customer experience a little?

I landed in Londinium all bleary-eyed for a weekend of limey English fun with Madame Sly and The Boys (BranTom, and the rare and elusive David). I also met Sly’s manfriend and I must say that I thumbsupingly approve with wholeheartitude.

I rode some giant slides and saw the Gilbert & George exhibit (which was a tad repetitive) at the Tate Modern, and saw Harry Potter’s magic wand in Equus (which was excellent). I also partook in some shopping, but rather little buying except socks and underpants at Topshop, the underpants of which were sadly rather lacklustre.

Also rather lacking in lustre was the fact that a single “tube” ride now costs 4£!! Absolutely ridiculous! And in keeping in the expensive transport vein, it was soon time to hop on the pricey Eurostar for a quick jaunt through the Chunnel. Annoyingly, some dippy airhead blonde from an American tour group interrupted my fervent studying while the train was waiting to pull out of Waterloo Station: “Uuuh, you’re like, in my seat.” “No. I’m not.” —But actually I was! Whether the fault of the travel agent or my own, I was booked on the train departing half hour previous to the train I was on! After some freaky-deaky panicking and running around in the five minutes before the train left, I managed to track down a conductor who said I could take any empty seat. Thank god.

Arrival in Paris; lovely, coupled with some massive high-grade anxiety vis-à-vis Monday’s do-or-die French language test. Said test written Monday afternoon. Outcome: not horrible, but not great. The answer to one question was clearly “choquer” (to be shocked), but I was convinced that this was a French-Canadian anglicism and didn’t want to loose points for a wrong answer so I answered nothing. (For inquiring minds, choquer, origin English, is a world used in France French). Glad I know that tidbit now.

The next few days were characterised by lots of wandering and walking. Paris is so almost impossibly lovely that it feels like a Disney version of what Paris should look like rather than the real deal, which it actually is. I kept having to remind myself that people actually live in these buildings, and soon I could too. Exciting. Louvre: Mona Lisa (bigger than I thought, since everyone goes on about how small it is – I was expecting a postage stamp); famous statues (didn’t really get what made them more famous than the hundreds of other similar-looking classical statues); fat American tourists (overheard in the Oriental antiquities section: “Oh Herb, look, this is for them Orien-tails”).

Moment of reckoning; checked first stage test results on the internet: I passed to stage two. Yeay moi! That means I got to spend five hours on beautiful, sunny Good Friday writing stage two of the entrance exam, hurray! Second part of the exam, consisting of translations, went pretty well I felt. Only snafu was an inability to translate the word ‘compelling,’ but otherwise good. Results will be posted in mid-May. Doits croisés!

Madame Sly, with manfriend in tow, came to the City of Light subsequent to exams so that we could celebrate the resurrection of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ together. Because of Easter and various crossed wires, we had quite the time trying to secure accommodation and ended up having numerous hijinx sorting everything out (part of which involved a night squished onto the narrowest beds in the world, and considerable bleeding from the head after cracking my noggin on a window-frame attempting to gain access to a hotel balcony. Hours of Parisian head-bleeding fun for the whole family!).

We had some fun shopping adventures and got fat on delicious food, floating along in a kir royale haze. I noticed a penchant for excess on the manfriend’s part (he ordered a drink that came in a fishbowl and a steak that was bigger than his head), so clearly he’s a perfect match for Sly.

Despite gonging of the church-bells that went on most of Easter Sunday morning, people all seemed bemused when I wished them a ‘Joyeuses Pâques.’ A surprising amount of stuff was also open as we wandered around Montmartre . Silly secular French heathens.

Sarah and manfriend trotted off back to Jolly Ol’ Sunday evening and I headed out to Charles de Gaulle airport the next morning. Prettiness aside, the airport was terribly designed and I was constantly worried about slabs of roof falling off on my head.

All in all, I would give this trip four bowler hat-wearing poodles out of five (minus points for exam stress and severe damage to the cranium). Paris is just so beautiful it’s ridiculous. What could be better than a city where you can buy pastries on every streetcorner and expect a bottle of wine with lunch? Nuthin', that's what. So fingers crossed cause gay Paree here I come! —Oh, and in all honesty, I haven't the slightest clue where all this rude Frenchmen business comes from. For the most part, I found people almost unfailingly cheerful and terribly nice. Every transaction was a little exchange, a joke or a building of rapport. I found people on the whole entierly charming. (The real rude people were the American tourists). Bleeding heads and tourists aside, I had a fantastic time.

Did you actually skip all the way to the end, just to find out how I did? Aww, that's sweet of you. I genuinely appreciate your interest in my well-being. Now get back to paragraph two where you're supposed to be.

Top Ten Reasons I Love India

Number One: Chicken Tikka Masala

Number Two: Saris

Number Three through Nine: This Ridiculous Video

Number Ten: Mahatma Gandhi

Budget Has Votes In Mind

The headline says it all really.
(Original TorStar article here).

Bullet-point open letter to Stephen Harper:

Thought: Your budget is smoke and mirrors.

Thought: Your budget has no policy.

Thought: Your budget is designed only to win votes.

Thought: Your American style of smear campaigns and vote pandering have brought Canadian politics to a new low.

Question: Does the billions in "new funding" have something to do with the billions you cut in funding last September? (See here)

Thought: You are a jerk.

Dead to Me: Gilles Duceppe. I already didn't like him anyway, but propping up Harper and his regime of neo-con Bush puppets is inexcusable.

Suggestion: Instead of trying to win a popularity contest like a lame high-schooler, why don't you worry a bit more about –oh I dunno– actually running the country?

Yum!

My favourite.

Reverse TOEIC

Finally, all those hours of beating my head into the wall trying to teach TOEIC and TOEFL to Japanese students is actually going to pay off!

(For those of you not in the know, TOEIC and TOEFL are standardised English tests consisting of a series of exercises in frustration where, as a teacher, you want to scream and throttle the student – "Why can't you pick the right answer stupidhead!!! The answer is so obvious!!" – interspersed with questions of such bizarre impossibilitude that even a native speaker will throw up their hands in give-uppance-ness. Here's a sample.)

My grad school admissions exam for France is structured very similarly to the TOEIC/TOEFL tests. So while I'm underwhlemingly unconfident in my ability to actually pass this ragingly-hard test, at least I know all the tricks of the trade to squeeze every point I can out of the questions.

Fingers crossed!

Sumo A-Go-Go: A Tokyo Tintin Oriental Report

Way back, oh so many windchill warnings ago, in the magical happy time that was the full-frontal assault on sanity leading up to my Nippon departure, I went for a day of sumo at Ryōgoku Kokugikan Sumo Hall with my friend Clarisol (pictured). Ever the diligent Asian informant, I had wanted to blogofy my experience at that time, but it all got lost in the maelstrom that is trans-continental moving madness. Nevertheless, in the spirit of better late than even later, I now bring you the next in the groundbreaking and thought-provoking series; Tokyo Tintin Oriental Reports — providing you all the answers you need to know, straight from the Frenchie-Cracker-Reverse-Banana’s mouth.

Professional Sumo tournaments take place six times a year; once each in Fukuoka , Osaka and Nagoya and thrice yearly in Tokyo. Each tournament lasts two weeks, and while fights generally last only a few seconds each, hundreds of fights happen over the course of each day, so you do get to pack in a lot of wholesome, flabby, loincloth sumo goodness. The day begins at 10am with the lowest divisions, and younger more inexperienced wrestlers squaring off first. Big name superstar wrestlers only take the ring around 4:30, with heaps of pomp and pageantry associated with the highest divisions. Mega-famous wrestlers like Hakukō, Asashōryū, and my personal favourite Kotoōshū (who is actually Bulgarian) are common household names and can earn millions of yen a month in salary, prize money and endorsement deals for everything from yogurht to Nissan cars. These are the guys that everyone packs in to see, and because of this, most people skip the all the junior division bouts and only start arriving around 4pm. That means that for most of the day you're free to sit in any open seat until the ticket-holder comes along. So for my 15$ general admission ticket I was able to sit ring-side for a while in seats that normally go for +500$. Even after playing some empty seat bingo later on as people starting filing in, I still ended up in a seat not that far from the ring.

While the whole production may seem a bit rediculous at times with the big men in small loincloths pushing each other around, it's actually quite easy to get caught up in the ritual and high drama. Since most matches are of the blink-and-you-miss-it variety, the whole production clips along at a good pace, aided no doubt in part by the many Asahis and Japanese snacks plied on you by the usherettes (who are actually old men wearing traditional clothes).

Sumo is also a very social event, making friends and chatting with the people in the seats around you, gossipping about the wrestlers performances and private lives. Even though my Japanese sumo-related vocabulary is rather lacking, I was able to learn from my neighbours, as they commended my language skills and showered us with cookies, that Asashōryū broke the mirrors off an opponent's car after losing an important bout to him. A rousing sumo time was had by all.

The only slight marr on the event –which actually quite surprised me– had to do with Bulgarian-born wrestler, Kotoōshū. He is a very talented wrestler and will likely make the title of yokozuna (the super-mega MVP of sumo-dom), but when he entered the ring for his bout, many people in the audience booed him. There had been no other booing whatsoever during the whole course of the day – I was totally taken off guard and not expecting that. I guess people are nervous that a freaded foreign devil might take the top title of Japan's national sport. Shortly before I left, the sumo association passed a regulation that said that each sumo stable could only have one foreign-born wrestler training there — and at the same time the passed a resolution to improve the international profile of sumo wrestling. Ah Japan, Land of a Thousand Contradictions!

Second-Best Concert Ever!

The first of course being the Scissor Sisters concert in Tokyo in 2005. This show was so high-energy it was crazy! Basically an hour and a half, fast-forward, high-octane, rollercoaster ride. Ana Matronic can work the crowd like nobody’s business and Jake Shears is a showman par excellence — if I had to do a non-stop, singing aerobics routine like he does, I’d probably have an aneurism. A totally amazing show, and it pretty much blows every other band I’ve ever seen out of the water, times ten.

Personal favourite number: 'Comfortably Numb.' Other highlights include 'Paul McCartney', 'Filthy/Gorgeous', and Del Marquis’ pants. The opening band, ‘Wigs on Sticks,’ was also quite good and definitely funny.

The sweaty awesomeness that was this concert was totally worth the five-month postponement from the October original date (rescheduled due to the drummer's bad back). While it'd be pretty hard to top the Tokyo show (we were practically on the stage / Jake threw his towel to my friend Donna after she flashed him her mighty rack / we met Jake and Del as they were leaving the venue and pushed some Japanese schoolgirls out of the way to take photos with them), I'd still unhesitatingly give this concert ten glitterballs and a spanking.

Without a doubt; best performers ever!

Subway to York

A open letter to the people complaining that federal money for transit is not being well spent:

Are you stupid? Shut the hell up! After years of neglect and disregard, the federal government has finally come up with some money for public transit. So what if the money would be better spent on other projects — it's better than no money being spent at all. Of course political money comes with purse-strings, and I'd much rather the extension to York be built –which been in the works for a long time but perhaps not a top priority– as opposed to nothing being built at all! How can nothing be better than something?!

One thing at a time people! Once we get this funding, maybe Harper will throw some more vote-grab money our way later on. Until then, be happy that we are building the line to York University only twenty years behind schedule instead of building nothing at all.

Honestly, some people! If you want to complain about something really annoying, why not try the 100$ highway robbery metropasses?

Woo-hoo!

Thanks to a power failure today, I got to leave work early! Totally exciting.

Power failures are my new favourite kind of failures.

Around 10:30 (in the middle of the mini-blizzard) most lights, copiers, computers, etc., went dead and we switched over to emergency power. At noon, Toronto Hydro said we had to switch off the emergency power for them to fix the problem, and we were left with only the super-emergency diesel generator, a handful of lights, and pretty much nothing else. A few hours later Toronto Hydro said they "didn't know what was wrong" and we all got to go home. Super-awesome!

Pretty much the the absolute worst time for a power outage to have happened with the doom and panic of tax season and RRSP contribution deadlines looming large. I'm really broken up about all the work I'm missing.

‘Alberta’ sounds like a cow's name

Let's face it; we all hate Alberta, even me (and I was born there). Tired of their bloated egos, oil sands self-importance and their conservative yahoos? It's time to show them who's boss. Sign my petition today.

Stephen Effing Harper!

As if it wasn't bad enough to be forced to watch our tax dollars being wasted on Stéphan Dion smear ads during prime time, then this poll came out showing that the Conservatives are actually gaining support! From who!?! Why?!?

Lets review a few of the asinine thing Harper has done since taking power just one short (though eternity-seeming) year ago:

¤ Reopened the (already settled by the Supreme Court) equal marriage debate
¤ Cut spending on social programmes despite having a 13 billion dollar surplus
¤ Cancelled a national daycare plan
¤ Reneged on the landmark Kelowna Accord, a ten-year, five billion dollar commitment designed to address First Nations poverty

Oh yeah, and he didn't address the World AIDS conference in Toronto, or ratify laws regarding the Kyōto Protocol. Really the list goes on and on, but why bother? We all know that Stephen Harper is a mangy, snake-faced, pig-dog boil on the scabby donkey ass of humanity. I really didn't think it was possible for me to have a lower opinion of him.

Until now.

During a speech in the House of Commons, Harper accused Sikh, Liberal MP Navdeep Bains of somehow being implicated in the Air India bombing over the North Atlantic in 1985, and accused the Liberals of creating a cover-up on Bain's behalf by refusing to to extend provisions in anti-terrorism law. Now never mind the fact that Bains was nine years old in 1985 — he's a Sikh, and Sikhs were involved in the bombing and therefore all Sikhs are bad. The alleged connexion between Bains and the Air India attack was that his father-in-law is on a list of potential list of witnesses for the Air India probe. Again lets ignore the fact that Bains had not yet met his father-in-law (being nine and all), and that hundreds of Sikhs are being considered as witnesses — brown people are all terrorists and should be sent back to where they came from.

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God Stephen Harper; I knew you were a liar, a pig, an idiot and a homophobe — but an outright racist? You even refused to apologise, saying that it was up to Bains to deny the facts reported about him. Clearly, I shouldn't be surprised by your bigoted behavior, but I still kind of am.

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Using racial stereotypes and personal attacks as a springboard to further your party's political agenda is unconscionable and disgusting. It's time to break out the big guns Stephen; You are officially: Dead to Me, Level Three. That's right, you heard me, Level Three! That's just one step above Hitler, Satan and Shannen Doherty. You are so dead to me that even my grandchildren's grandchildren will still sit around talking about what a horrible person you are.

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For the good of Canada, Navdeep Bains, and my personal sanity, I think we should turn Alberta back into a territory. That way Ottawa gets all their oil money and coo-coo conservative yahoos like Harper and the people who vote for him no longer have any say in parliament. Everyone in the rest of Canada would be a whole lot happier.

Disreputable Planet

Given the opportunity there aren’t many places in the wouldn’t go; Kyrgyzstan, Chad, you name it. But one place I would not go is Burma. —Now don’t get me wrong, I’d love to go. It’s supposed to be beautifully amazing. However, democratically elected leader and Noble Prize winner, Aung San Suu Kyi asked tourist not to visit Burma after the military seized power in 1988.

Since the coup, the military junta has done heaps of annoying and terrible things like: change the name of the country (to obnoxious and unfamiliar Myanmar); moved the capital (to Naypyidaw, a dusty, purpose-built settlement in the middle of nowhere); crippled the economy, tortured and killed pro-democracy activists; and persecuted ethnic minorities. In short, they are total douchbags. They have also kept Aung San Suu Kyi under an unflinching and unwavering house arrest which has prevented her from seeing her British-born children for the past 18 years, and kept her away from her husband’s funeral in 1999 (whom she’d hadn’t seen since 1989).

The jerk-faced Burmese military likes to have a finger in every pie and controls almost all aspects of the tourism industry (or more correctly most all aspects of every industry): hotels; transportation; restaurants; businesses; whatever’s going, you know they’re cashing in on it. Tourist dollars go straight into military coffers and provide much-needed foreign exchange to prop-up to the regime. Because this money allows the military junta to buy arms, consolidate their power, and smother dissent, Ang San Suu Kyi has asked foreign tourists to spend their money elsewhere and to not visit Burma.

Back in November (when I wanted to write this post, but didn’t have time), Lonely Planet published its fifth edition guide to Burma (nauseatingly referred to as ‘Myanmar’). That’s one-two-three-four-five editions of a guide to a country that shouldn’t even be on the tourist radar at all. Why are they publishing this guidebook? To go against the wishes of a nation’s democratically elected leader and put money in the pockets of a brutalitarian regime is totally irresponsible.

They do include a two-page “Should You Go to "Myanmar"?” section, which *of course* tells you should go (because otherwise you’re not going to buy their guidebook), arguing the trickle-down benefit to the local people. Realistically, if you are seriously concerned about the plight of the average Burmese person, I’m sure your money would have a much bigger impact and be of more benefit if you were to donate it to the Burma Campaign, rather than staying in a government-run hotel and wondering how that helps the local people when employees don’t get paid for months at a time then get beaten up if they try to complain.

Conversely, if you are a humble adventure tourist in search of a nice place for a vacation, there are plenty of countries in the world (without a self-imposed travel ban) where the local people are just as deserving of your tourist ¥¥¥ as the Burmese.

Anyway you dice it, this guidebook to Burma is bad news. People should not be going there, pointe finale. Lonely Planet, I’m calling you out for ignoring your moral duty and the request of Ms Suu Kyi, in the hopes of turning a quick buck. Shame on you! Your Lonely Planet Guide to “Myanmar” puts dollar signs ahead of social responsibility, and supports an oppressive and brutal dictatorship. –Because of this, I’m banishing Lonely Planet guidebooks from my bookshelf forever. You are: Dead to Me!

(If you stop publishing Burma guidebooks, or if the travel ban is lifted, you might get off my list, if you’re lucky. I probably still ixnay your guidebooks though for being such kowtowing, lackey jerks in the first place).

Morning Musume Against the World

A while ago, I posted a Christmassy Youtube which featured Japanese pop superstars “Morning Musume.” As I mentioned, they are akin to the Spice Girls — Not really my bag so much, but hugely popular; with a roster of up to 13 singers changing faster than you can say ‘sushi combo #3.’ They've been riding the crest of the J-Pop wave, in numerous permutations, for a decade now, and show no signs of abating really.

Along the way, it would seem that they have had some monkeyshine run-ins with the animal kingdom. First, boy-band Smap! dressed up as bizarro Christmas poodles to shoot a music video with them, and then things got all Mutual of Omaha-crazy on them. So now, I present to you:

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Morning Musume and the Menagerie of Bizarritude!

Morning Musume vs. Komodo Dragon
I thought everyone had seen this already, so I hadn’t posted it here, but apparently not. Now remember, these girls are big stars in Japan…


Morning Musume vs. Polar Bear

Can you imagine anything even remotely like this happening here? Christ, they are good sports over there. Brittney would never put on a mouse costume and run through the owl barn when I asked her.

Morning Musume vs. Snake
I think the girl in this is from Morning Musume, but I’m not sure. Either way, WTF!!! How did this get on TV?!

Japanese for Half-Assed People VI

Genki: 元気: (ghen-key): adj., n. energetic

While the literal meaning of ‘genki’ is energetic, it’s used as a ‘how are you’-type greeting.

Ex:
A: Genki?
B: Un, genki!

(or more formally)
A: O-genki desu ka?
B: Hai, genki desu yo!

However, unlike “How are you?,” which is an open-ended question with many possible responses, “genki?” assumes the natural state is energetic and up — Anything else requires a dissenting and contradictory “no,” which is simply terrible for maintaining a good sense of wa (harmony).

Demanding happy conformity is oh-so very Japanese.

Dead to Me: My Job

Yeah, and here's another news flash; I like booze!

For anyone who's spent time with me in the last four months, you know that I find my job lameage to the max. —Basically I spend the day trying to solve problems; annoying, pointless problems; problems that wouldn't even exist if other people did their jobs properly in the first place. Terribly and intensely unsatisfying!

It's bland and suburban like a Wonderbread sandwich, and somewhat rather less exciting.

That is why I'm so enthusiastic about my Get-Me-the-Hell-Out-of-Here plan. While I am super-happy and lucky to know so my totally awesome people in Toronto, if I stay in this job I might as well move to Pickering right now and smother myself with oppressive mediocrity and minivans.

So, it looks like all signs point to going back to school, and those signs say "Paris." I'm in the middle of the application process for this translation school that's attached to the Sorbonne. School in France is *so* cheap, I'd be stupid to even consider going to school in Canada — about 4500$ dollars stupid since tuition in France is only about 500€ a year! Even though I'm a foreign student! And I get free national health-care! And I get a government stipend for a part of my rent! Crazy. Why doesn't everyone go to school in France?! So crazy; when I was talking to the girl who works in the education section of the French consulate, I couldn't even believe all the stuff she was telling me. So crazy cheap! It's a two year programme which gives me a masters in translation in the end, which is basically a ticket to ride, since pretty much every company in Canada needs translators.

I will have to go to Paris to write the entrance exam in April (since I missed the deadline for writing the overseas exam by a day!). Not tooo bad, Paris in springtime and all, but it's paying for the airfare that's the sticky wicket. The exams are the week before Easter, which is more expensive to fly than any other week in the spring. Boo-urns.

If I'd had any sense, I'd have stayed in Nihon, saved some yen and gone directly to Paris from there (and of course by 'sense' I mean 'ability to predict the future'). Well, I'm sure a week with hot, dirty French pédés will be good for my, uh, linguistic skills.

Now, I don't doubt that when I get accepted, my couch will become a flophouse for all my itinerant and wayward friends in search of Eurotrip hijinx, so I'll put the invite out there in preemptive anticipation; "My fromagey-mimey apartment is your fromagey-mimey apartment."

Gay Paree, here I come!

Worst/Best Headline *Ever*!

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Yeah, I bet he takes it – takes it real good!

Now, if I was a repressed and closeted Hollywood A-lister like Leo, my publicist would be so fired for letting this headline get out there. As if he really needed to advertise the fact that he’s a big power bottom and a selfish lover.

Way to go Metro for dishing the kind of salacious news-gossip we all want to know!

Japanese for Half-Assed People V

Hisashiburi: 久しぶり: (hee-sa-shii-bu-riiii): adv. After a long time

You say 'hisashiburi' as you would 'long time no see' — only that 'long time no see' makes you sound like a neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie, whereas hisashiburi ends with that same endearing, high-pitched squealy "iiiiii" that makes Japanese so kawaii and fun.

Example:

Jimmy Hoffa: "Hisashiburi!"
Gladys Hoffa: "Where the hell have you been?"

Chimo

Those of you who have read Douglas Copeland's Souvenir of Canada will recognise this word. For those of you who haven't, you should –but in the mean time I'll explain. In the 1970s with the Olympics and Expo, draft-dodgers, Trudeau, bilingual cereal boxes and kicking Soviet hockey ass, Canada-mania reached new, dizzying heights. We were hot hot hot, and we needed a word that was cool. A Canadian word. And that word was "chimo."

Ostensibly, this came from an Innuktitut word meaning “bellbottoms are awesome,” Chimo failed to catch on, and with it, Canada missed its big chance to make a linguistic mark on the world.

I say the time is ripe to bring back “chimo” and kick off another phase Canadia-mania; with all our subversive gay weddings, unlocked doors, nationally-subsidised medicinal marijuana programmes and lesbian witches for abortion, who wouldn’t want to be Canadian these days?

Canada is so chimo!

So let’s all do our part, dialectise ourselves and create a chimo Canadian patois. If we keep it up, soon we’ll be as colourful as our Aussie cousins with all their ‘crikey’ and ‘flaming galahs.’

Go chimo!

Amazing Race No-Stars

.!!#?*$!?#*!?!#!$?.

W.T.F!!!!!! No Hippies? I am sooooo upset right now I can't believe it! The Hippies were the best racers of all time ever! As if anyone cares the slightest iota about seeing pasty-faced lame-os Rob and Amber schlep their over-exposed, reality asses around the world all over again. Yuck!

Blah, phwpt! I spit on you Amazing Race All Stars. You are dead to me!

How can you even pretend to be an all-stars edition when you lack the biggest stars of them all?!

Ugh. I don't even want to watch it now.

A Streetcar Named Displeasure

While I appreciate the aesthetic pleasantry of streetcars, I hate pretty much everything else about them. From the jerky, lurching ride to the simply terrible on time performance records, there’s a lot not to love. Quite frankly I can not imagine a worse form of transportation (except perhaps harnessing a team of blind monkeys to pull me down the street on a sled).

Streetcars are eternally getting stuck in traffic, so then they get all bunched up, which means there are more people waiting for the next car, it takes longer to load all the people who’ve been waiting, then the cars get slowed down even more, then there’s even more people waiting, even longer loading; it’s a ridiculous cycle of inefficiency.

It also drives me crazy that when stopped behind traffic at a red light, streetcars have to wait for the light to turn green, then move ahead the few meters to the stop to let people on/off, and by the time everyone is on the light has gone back to red. It would be so much better if the streetcar stop was after the intersection (I know that’s never going to happen because of traffic-flow issues, but it would improve the passenger experience by, oh, a million-billion times). I once waited at Yonge Street on the Dundas car while the light cycled through three times waiting for everyone to get on; the light changed back to red, then more people came off the subway and the light change back to red again, then more people came again!! Aaaargh!

I live for the day when I no longer have to deal with the crowded-front/empty-back and every other obnoxious hassle that is TTC streetcars.

Oh yeah, and it costs almost three dollars to ride!

Streetcars: Ask anyone, I’m the biggest advocate of public transit there is; if it were up to me, private cars would be illegal. But my love affair ended the minute I had to depend on you everyday to get to work. You are ineffective and inefficient. There’s no real hope for change, you are officially “Dead to Me.”

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(Please note, none of the above applies to the Spadina streetcar, which by virtue of having its own right-of-way, is actually fantastic. All streetcars should have their own right-of-way, but they don’t, so they suck).

Tiki Hula Luau

Thanks to everyone who came out and made 'my special day' one of the best birthdays *ever*! From the champagne breakfast and the Chinatown ice-cream cake to the Hula Luau that one person even said was "the best party they'd ever been to in Toronto," the whole day was simply amazing. The party was so tiki-tastic that it even had pre-party buzz going on other blogs.


I owe all this amazing fabulousness to you, all my super-sugoi fantastic friends! Thank you all so much for reminding me of the reason I moved back to Toronto. You guys are so awesome, and rock so hard, I'm getting a bit teary with appreciation for how wonderful you all are. I love you guys! Mwah!

They Got Ping-Pong

Looks as though I'm not the only one down on China right now. The Toronto Star seems to think they're a bunch of no-goodniks too.

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Does this call for a drop down to the ranks of "Dead to Me"?

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Article here.

stuff + cats = awesome!

Um, like the best site on the internet *ever* (after this one of course). Stuffonmycat.com is for people who like to take stuff and put it on top of their cat and then take pictures and send them in. Cats are so amazing — you could never get a dog to co-operate and do these kind of crazy shenanigans. Cats are like the best animals *ever* — except of course for sea otters, which are so cute they make me kind of dizzy.

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They Got the Red Book, They Got the New Look

Remember back in the day when everyone hated on the Soviet Union and got upset when they used their superior gymnastic technology to beat us in the Olympics? Then they self-destructed and it was America 's turn to be top-dog obnoxious bully. Well ladies and gentlemen, I'm calling it right now and you heard it here first: the 21st century's super-power super-villain is the People's Republic of China .

They snuck up on us with their cheap running shoe factories and delicious hoisin sauce and now they're well on their way to overtaking our rowdy southern neighbours for the title of "The Superpower You Love to Hate" — at least America has an elected government to keep up the checks and balances.

Let's review the evidence of China 's newfound jerkyness: Let's start with Taiwan. Taiwan is its own country, end of story. Why does China even care so much — Taiwan has no resources and little historical significance to the mainland. Could it perhaps be their bloated ego and over-inflated sense of self importance? Taiwan has been trying to resolve this ridiculous aberration of diplomacy for the past twenty years, but is scared youknowwhatless by China's huge army and threats of immediate attack.

Tibet — hmmn, how to put it nicely? China's invasion of Tibet in 1950 blows, and their continued efforts to destroy Tibetan culture and suppress self-determination blows even harder! Hey PRC: Get the hell out of Tibet! It does not belong to you except in your own delusional mind. Your thinly-veiled attempt to erase Tibetan identity by promoting mass Han Chinese migration and wrapping it in a pale veneer of 'economic development' is disgusting and smacks of cultural genocide. — Hoo-wee, Tintin, getting a bit hot under the collar there. Moving right along...

Human rights; at the moment, China only has terrible human rights for its own citizens, but how long before it tries to push its brand of commie management on everyone else (à la present global-capitalist American hegemony)? From Tian'anmen to Falun Gong and prison labour, China 's human rights record is boo-urns.

The whole problem is that no one wants to take China to task for its meanie-badness because they don't want to piss off the world's biggest market. So pretty much everyone just turns a blind eye and looks the other way, pretending everything is fine, when really China is executing and torturing people left, right and centre. Any place that, for example, harvests organs from political prisoners deserves a whole heap of sanctions and international condemnation instead of a tsk-tsk-tsk and ineffectual finger-wagging. The PRC's authoritarian, un-elected government certainly makes all these problems worse.

Clearly the People's Republic of China should go in the 'Dead to Me' section, but it has a special place in my heart and I just can't bring myself to do it — there are simply far too many things I love; chopsticks, propaganda art, the Temple of Heaven, dragons, pirated DVDs, spicy crispy ginger pork. I'll have to content myself with 'On Notice,' but be warned China; you better stop resting on your Moo-shu laurels and get your act together before I'm forced to drop you down to 'Dead to Me' with Pope Eggs Benedict.

All that being said however, Americans are still a bunch of bat-crazy mo-fos ↓↓↓.

Perez Hilton: Yey or Ney?

Perez Hilton is in "beeg traable for moose and squirell" now that everyone is suing him for a zillion dollars. It would seem that, among other things, some celebs are unhappy at being chased out of the closet.

Do celebrities, by virtue of being public figures, give up their right to privacy? While I think celebrities do deserve privacy, I'm conflicted on this topic however, when it comes to outing. There are two reasons for this; the first is visibility. When I was young, if I'd had gay role models to look up to other than Mr Humphries and Svend Robinson, I'd probably have ended up a lot less weird than I am now. If high school has taught me anything, it's that three-quarters of all boys in drama class are homos. It would therefore stand to reason that you couldn't swing a last-season Prada bag in Hollywood without hitting a poofy bender. But instead we have a dearth of fey fairy princesses and a cavalcade of rumours (which are all true). What ever happened to strength in numbers? C'mon, homo solidarity people!

The second reason is that I don't really understand why being gay is considered something "private." I mean, being Jewish or Black isn't considered "private," so why is being gay? Is it perhaps because we're somehow ashamed, and want to keep it hidden and secret?

I know there is the whole issue of gay actors being able to get good roles, but really, haven't we moved beyond that already? Aren't all the closeted actors the ones perpetuating this stereotype more than anyone else? And even if that were that case, I'll be *so* upset if Jake Gyllenhal isn't able to make 17 million dollars a movie anymore and won't be able to ride his diamond-encrusted albino elephant to the money factory. Boo-hoo-hoo! Time to gather up your cajones and come out boys. I know it took a long time to get there, but Black actors now play roles that don't have anything to do with being Black; I think studio execs would come around pretty quickly when they realise that, holy crap, everyone in Hollywood is a raging homo.

In early anticipation of National Coming Out Day (11 October), the following people are gay:
Leonardo DiCaprio
Hayden Christensen
Jessica Alba
Tom Cruise (woops! How did he get in there?)

Ricky Martin
Jake Gyllenhaal
Maggie Gyllenhaal
Lance Armstrong
Jimmy Fallon
Elijah Wood
Sherlock Holmes
Sally Struthers
Lunchlady Doris
Mary Queen of Scots

Jeff Probst

Helen Keller

Okay– so some of those people probably aren't gay (yeah, they're air-quote "bisexual"). The point is I fully support Perez Hilton's stated goal of outing everyone in Hollywood. Who's with me?

2006 Year In Review

The end of the year is nigh upon us, so it's time for my annual spot of reflection and quiet contemplation which I'm sharing with all of you, my beautiful friends, and, uh, everyone else by posting it here (though I've heard some places in Turkmenistan might not yet have internet).

Every year I like to think back on the people, places and events that make up my own personal Time magazine 'Year In Review.' What makes the highlight reel, what winds up on the cutting room floor? In the spirit of "out-with-the-old," let’s start with the lowlights:

§...While the rest of this list is presented in no particular order, by far and away the worst thing of 2006 was Jase moving back to Australia. I could yimmer-yammer on for reams and crack out the thesaurus to find new words for "bad," but Jase and I both know how much it sucked. Especially the Shinjuku Station part, but also the run up and the aftermath part.

§...Back to Canada Packing Freak-Out. I thought I was doing so well, shipping off boxes far in advance, then I put one thing in my suitcase and realised that there was no way in hell everything was going to fit in there! How can you pack four years of living and shopping into a suitcase? I started to panic, and might have even hyperventilated at one point. The stress was overwhelming.

§...Getting shingles. Blah, I felt like death.

§...Taking a pay cut coming back to Canada.

§...Going home after work to an empty house in April and May.

§...Twice a week help shifts from hell at Nakano Sakaue, featuring the absolute *thickest* students. (Also, though to a lesser extent, help shifts at Nakano Minami and Kami Shakujii; terrible).

§...Reality check coming back to Toronto: the city is dirty, public transit sucks, the shopping is lame.

§...Voice Room with Masaharu (or the voice room in general). For any non-Nihon readers out there, words are not enough to describe the drawn-out torture that is a conversation circle with people who refuse to converse with each other.

§...Being totally rudderless and without direction when I got back to Toronto.

§...Leaving Tokyo, which really felt like my home for four years, and leaving lots of friends from all over the place, knowing it might be a long long time before I saw them again. The Narita Express to the airport was particularly brutal. I think I cried the whole two-hour ride.

Blah! That was a depressing trip down memory lane —Now begone with you bad thoughts! Time for the highlights of the year past, again in no particular order:

‡...Meeting Amazing Race winners BJ and Tyler walking along Yonge Street. They were so friendly and personable, I couldn't believe it! They both gave me big hugs and seemed genuinely interested in chatting with me. By far and away the most amazing Amazing-Racers *ever,* I can't wait to see them in All-Stars next season. TTOW!!

‡...My final day at Nova. Emancipation at last! Never again will I have to deal with the likes of Keiko Minaguchi, Masaharu and Rina, teach TOEIC to idiots, or answer the dreaded question "Why did you come to Japan?" Thank god!

‡...Travel will inevitably always make up part of the "Best Of," and this year was no exception. Quite a diverse year with my overland trip from Beijing to Tokyo, New York jaunt, Algonquin, and of course the Dark Continent. If I had to pick out just one thing, it would be in Ghana as our dilapidated taxi was driving into the countryside after Aflao, though emerald rice fields and swaying coconut trees, sun shining, African highlife music playing on the stereo. A truly perfect moment.

‡...All the absolutely top-quality people I've had the great fortune to meet since coming back here. Toronto may have its drawbacks, but it's the amazingness of the people that really makes it a great place to live. Micheal, Dave, Jolie-kun, Ric and Rob; I'd probably have gone sushi-homesick-crazy and wound up back in Tokyo, desperate and penniless, working the corner of Yasukuni-dōri and Meiji-dōri if it hadn't been for the likes of you guys.

‡...Finding a direction to my life (finally). It's all still up in the air at this point, so knock wood and don't jinx it, but all signs point to me going to back to school (in gay Paree) to become a translator. Fingers crossed — though I think this is definitely got me going somewhere, so watch out; I'm back on track (and back in black).

‡...Sex with models. Okay, only one model –and I know it's really shallow to include it here– but whatever, it was hot.

‡...Oh, and here comes more shallowness: Great shopping buys. Blue jacket, swimsuit, belt-buckle, I think Century 21 might be my new favourite place anywhere, though it's a tough call between that and Gotemba Premium Outlet Mall. I fully admit to being really, really lame, but whatever – I do what I want!

‡...Of course a 2006 highlight would be seeing all my awesome family and friends again after so long away, as well as an exciting renewal of the 'Social Calendar' featuring the long-anticipated return of the annual Island Barbeque and the introduction of Quiz Night. —Thanks you guys for making the Social Calendar the cavalcade of hijinxs I've come to know and love.

‡...After a similar round-up from last year, in which I decided I was too skinny in the chestal-arms region, I resolved to do push-ups and that kind of mild physical exertion, which has actually paid off. Look better, feel better. And as addendum to my new Participaction regime, I spent a tonne of time at the outdoor pool around the corner from my house this summer – so much fun!

‡...You can’t help but love Disneyland, and Tokyo Disney is no exception – especially with Jase and our chō baka antics, like posing for the hidden camera on the Temple of Doom ride (right before the rolling boulder), and eating something from every different “Land” in the park. Jase even went on the teacups, just to make me happy, even though it made him queasy. What a trooper!

“What Was I Thinking? 2006”

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That tie doesn’t go with that shirt!

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“Best Dressed 2006”
I know this is a re-post, but retro-terrorist chic is so hot this year.

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"Favourite Photos 2006"

This is my favourite photo of me from the past year

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My favourite photo I took in 2006 — Statue of former 'Life President' Kwame Nkrumah at the National Museum in Accra. I don't know what exactly it is about it, but I feel it conveys a lot of emotion.

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"New Year’s Resolutions"

As per tradition, my New Year’s resolution is always to be more fabulous. First, let’s year-in-review the fabulosity of 2006: black pony-hair shoes; fabulous. One year, four continents; fabulous! This photo of me is pretty fabulous:

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Not so fabulous: my job, the commute, emo-robot Nihon-jin staring at me as I cry inconsolably in Shinjuku station (various occasions), shingles scars on my face (thankfully mostly gone now).

I would currently rate my fabulousness level at ‘glitter’ with a dip down to ‘glimmer’ in the aftermath of “Sayonara Nippon.” I’m aiming for a ‘sparkle’ rating in 2007 – ambitious, but I think I can make it.

Best wishes, good luck and rockin' times to all of you in the year ahead. Happy New Year! Bonne Année! ¡Feliz Año Nuevo! 明けましておめでとうございます ! 恭賀新禧!

Japanese for Half-Assed People IV

Chō: 超: (cho): adj. Very

After a long hiatus, Japanese for Half-Assed People returns so that I can start to use this word again in my everyday English and have people understand me. I love this word and used it all the time, it’s so handy and fun: I’m chō tired; this train is chō late; Palau Jeff is chō kawaii.

In a very Japanese one-word-with-opposite-meanings, I thought that ‘chō,’ meaning ‘very’ was short for ‘chotto,’ which means ‘a little bit,’ but this is not the case. Japanese is a chō interesting language!

Doppelgängers

Last weekend my new BFF Joel and I realised that we are actually the same person! Super-freaky!

Let's review the evidence shall we: our birthdays are only six days apart, so we are both dark and brooding, pensive Capricorns. We are both left-handed. We are both essentially 'reverse bananas,' for lack of a better term (white on the outside, yellow on the inside). (Oops! Is that offensive? Whatever— everyone knows I'm actually a Chinese spy who had extensive plastic surgury to infiltrate this Gay Agenda terrorist cell). We are both productive in the mornings. We are both insanely cute (and in uploading this photo I notice that our eyes are even the same colour). Really the list goes on and on.

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Joel, we are so exactly the same person. All you need now is to live in Tokyo for four years and then people won't even be able to tell us apart — which will be awesome because then we can cruise together for guys with hot, twisted twin fantansies. Sugoi! I can't wait!

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Hot Survivor Gayness

Alternate title: "Black, Brown, Yellow Power!"

Last night's Survivor: Cook Islands final episode capped off the most action-packed season since All Stars. The ups, the downs, the come-from-behind, Aitu, Raro, great challenges, and the racial divide. Kudos to you Cook Islands!

During the reunion show, Drumboy said "I think JP is gay" —and while the the though that this muy caliente pro volleyball player was a bender never occured to me during the course of the season, a few clicks of the internet confirmed his raging hot festiveness (1, 2, 3). Apparently there's even been rumours circulating that JP and fellow teammate Brad have been having their own tribal council, if you know what i'm saying (1).

In honour of JP's amazing pecs, I present to you a retrospective of lustyful Survivors of yore. Enjoy!

Jeff - Palau

Silas - Africa














Jed - Thailand

Kel - Australia

John - Vanuatu

Aras - Panama
















Burton - Pearl Islands

Johnathan - Palau

Three Things

Thanks to Joel via Dave for keeping me entertained and thinking whilst bored at work.

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THREE THINGS THAT SCARE ME
1. Evangelical Christians
2. Conservatives
3. Male Pattern Baldness

THREE THINGS I DON'T UNDERSTAND
1. Why people are conservative - if no one was ever progressive, we'd all still be cavemen
2. The insanely low production values of Japanese television
3. The appeal of casinos

THREE THINGS I'D LIKE TO LEARN
1. Proper Japanese - none of this half-assed, casual convo only nonsense.
2. How to snowboard. I feel like a lame-o dinosaur with my skis now.
3. Why Jeffery won Project Runway when he had some pieces that were totally ugly and he went over budget! —Uli should have definitely won.

THREE THINGS I'M WEARING RIGHT NOW
1. Grey and yellow Uniqlo socks
2. Lucky horseshoe belt buckle
3. "Envy" by Gucci

THREE THINGS ON MY DESK - well, I don't have a desk at home and my desk at work is maximally lame, so, three things on my dresser then:
1. Photos of 'the big three'
2. an unhappy plant
3. map of Europe circa 1901 waiting to be framed (I'm such a nerd)

THREE THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE
1. Travel around the world without leaving the ground (no planes)
2. See a couture fashion show
3. Slut my way from Madrid to Moscow

THREE GOOD THINGS ABOUT MY PERSONALITY
1. I'm pretty unflappable; it takes a lot to get my feathers ruffled
2. Independent; e.g. some people don't like to travel alone, I love it! Total freedom
3. Confident; I always feel everything will work out just fine, and when it doesn't, see #1.

THREE BAD THINGS ABOUT MY PERSONALITY
1. Avoidance. I tend to avoid problems, which in turn causes more problems later on
2. I'm a bad conversationalist – I don't feel comfortable offering things up in many situations
3. Aloof – I'd often rather spend time with myself then make awkward chitchat with acquaintances

THREE PARTS OF MY HERITAGE
1. French Canadian
2. Tintin
3. Nomad

THREE THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MY BODY
1. Jaw
2. Calves (Calfs?)
3. Cheekbones Waist

THREE THINGS I DON'T LIKE ABOUT MY BODY
1. Foreskin – or more correctly, lack thereof
2. Hair on my hands
3. Arms (skinny)

THREE THINGS MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT ME
1. Although a staunch left-handist, I bowl with my right hand
2. I never learned to read music and had to cheat all the way through elementary school instrumental music class
3. Currently I've completed 12% of my goal of visiting the whole world.

THREE THINGS I SAY THE MOST
1. Awesome. - Used both ironically and non-ironically
2. Vis-à-vis
3. Sugoi!

THREE PLACES I WANT TO GO
Only three? —Jeez. Well for the time being:
1. Brazil
2. Morocco
3. Tahiti

Where would we be without Nippon?

Oh those kooky Japanese! First they tricked everyone in the world into eating raw fish and driving small cars, now this. What nutty thing will they have us all doing next?



In other news, I was going back through my blog archive and realised that I've spat on Stephen Harper twice since putting him 'On Notice' (1, 2). —What the hell is he still doing there?

Off to the 'Dead to Me' section with you Mr Prime Minister. I don't doubt you'll piss me off again during your tenure, so maybe I'll have to create a new category even worse than 'Dead to Me.' —Any suggestions for names?

Apocalypto

In a word: Vivid.

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Go see this movie!!

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I'm putting it straight into consideration for one of my favourite movies of all time.

PM calls Quebec 'a nation'

Toronto Star article here

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I have rather mixed feelings about this. In a way it’s good, but in another way it’s rather insulting. Why are only Quebecers a ‘nation’ and not all French-Canadians? Does that mean that Anglo-Quebecers are a part of that nation as well? What about First Nations’ people who live in Quebec; do they belong to their aboriginal nation or their Quebec nation?

Declaring a nation of all the people who happen to live in the arbitrarily delineated geographical area of Quebec is problematic since it excludes the millions of Franco-Ontarians, Franco-Manitobans and Acadians who made this country part of what it is, and who struggled (much harder than Quebecers, I’d say) to maintain their cultural identity against the dominant Anglo culture.

Yet again I’m frustrated by how Quebecers have shanghaied this whole issue and made it about politics and self-aggrandisement and basically nothing at all to do with preserving French language and culture in North America. In a way this declaration is a double slap in the face to non-Quebec French Canadians; the perpetual we-don’t-care-about-you slap from the Québécois, and now the you-are-irrelevant slap from the federal government.

For a group which is the largest language minority in six out of nine provinces, we’re not getting much love!

Deck the Halls

The decorations are up and I've started writing my Christmas cards. As I get all wrapped up in the spirit of the season, I decided to post this message of holiday cheer from the land of Annual-Gift-Man and his ten neon deer, Japan! This video is a collaboration between Morning Musume, (a kind of Japanese Spice Girls) and Smap! who are undoubtedly the most popular boy-band *ever*.



(Incidentally, the words of this song actually have nothing to do with Christmas whatsoever. I think it's something along the lines of a love song to a pet).

The Amazing Race: West Africa Edition

Overall, I would categorise the trip as “awesome” with a third-worldness factor of 10++. Even after living in China and Mexico, West Africa still seemed mega-poor in comparison. Garbage-eating vultures, open sewers, guinea worm parasites; you name it, West Africa has it en masse. Ghana seemed to have more potholes than roads, and Togo means corruption and bad government in the local Ewe language. (Bénin had smooth pavement and laid-back people, but we only saw a tiny slice of the country, so I’ll reserve judgement on that one). Despite the poverty, the trip was faaantastic. The few minor annoyances (over-charging taxi drivers, border hassle) were more than made up for by the super-friendly people who would wave and laugh and ask “Ça va?” every time us silly yovos walked by. Bonus props to the Ghanaian border guard who bought us all water because we were having trouble digging some Ghanaian change out of our luggage to pay the vendor.

I didn’t really know what to expect on this trip; travelling to some of the poorest countries in the world, with three girls (one of whom had never third-worlded it before), and an ATM card that I didn’t have confidence would work. I’ll let my photos do most of the talking for me, but if you’d like some additional text, both Jenni and Ashley’s blogs have excellent travelogue postings about our trip.


“A Detour is a choice between two tasks, each with its own pros and cons”

Accra versus Lomé

Accra (pronounced ah-KRÁ, not AK’ra as I had thought all this time) didn’t really make sense to me as a city. There seemed to be no central commercial area at all, just a lot of disjointed, spread-out buildings high on 70s ‘futuristic’ mishmash and low on colonial charm. Often times we would be driving along in the taxi and I’d have the feeling we were driving down country lanes, not in the middle of a two-million-strong metropolis. I thought the British were supposed to be good city-builders — I’m not sure what they had in mind in Accra, but they certainly didn’t achieve it. I spent most of my time there wondering where the city actually was. And despite the fact that the city has a pretty beautiful beach-side location, you’d hardly know it. The only things down by the water are disused stadia, slums, a prison, and overgrown monuments to past presidents full of crumbling concrete and weeds. The one thing Accra did have was a sushi restaurant run by real Japanese people! As I stared across the street at it, all I could think of was ‘How on earth did they end up in Ghana?’ —That’d be an interesting story no doubt.

Lomé, by contrast, did feel like a real city – a threadbare city only a palm frond away from falling apart at the seams – but an understandable city nonetheless. The market and commercial area in the centre, administrative buildings over there, residential area over here, and a beautiful (if under-used) beach along the waterfront. Apparently, back in the day, Lomé used to be the hoppin’ and happenin’ hub of West Africa. IR geeks among us might recognise the Lomé Convention which gathered together all the developing world movers and shakers in order to gain preferential access to the EU market of their former colonial overlords. But that was way back in 1975 before greedy graft and corrupt politics took over and wound Lomé down into the sleepy afterthought it is today. I dug the sandy streets, cool palm-lined boulevards and rare colonial building that would peek out behind the bougainvillea.


“A Roadblock is a task which only one team member may perform”

In my case, that would be using my French to deal with belligerent Togolese taxi drivers who took us down scary dirt tracks at night, in the dark, in the middle of nowhere, in order to avoid paying-off the guards at military checkpoints along the main route (thereby saving himself somewhere in the region of 50¢). Other than this situation, I was happy to be able to put my French to use in a non-work environment for once. Finally it comes in handy! And I was also happy that K and Jenni held their own in French –I didn’t have to be the intermediary in all their market haggling and restaurant ordering. Bon travaille K and Jenni! Deux étoiles d'or!

It was also great to be able to speak French without struggling with a France-y French pronunciation. I could be as flat I wanted because it was easier for the people there to understand. I loved it! I wish I could do the same at work too, unfortunately I don't think that would fly with the pure laine Québécois.

Another thing I was called on to do a few times by K was to 'be the man' in dealings with officials and drivers. I think this offended Jenni's feminist sensibilities, but that's just the way things are over there. Generally K would start off the bargaining, (she obviously knew much more about it than anyone else), and I would standby in case the haggling started to take a turn south 'cause K was getting no props from the men. Then I'd step in and wow them with my superior and monotone French, announcing that XXX was our final price. Generally I think our "good cop, bad cop" routine got us good results and fair prices (even if our taxi drivers didn't always know where they were going).


“Warning: Yield Ahead”

The people, food, history, beaches and culture all make West Africa a fantastic travel destination. The only major drawback in my mind (apart from parasites of course) was the transportation system – or more correctly, the lack thereof. Getting from A to B seemed to be the cause of pretty much all our hassles and headaches during the trip. Since all transportation is essentially private vehicles being hired out, you're always dealing with aggressive touts, 'the tourist price', dilapidated, rusting vehicles spewing exhaust and drivers who don't know the way. Now I realise that these governments have a priority to feed their people ahead of building zippy expressways and nice trains, but the serious lack of infrastructure can only exacerbate the region's poor economic development. Companies aren't exactly going to be jumping over each other to invest in a place where it might take almost four hours to move their goods 120 kms (as it took us to travel from Accra to Cape Coast).

But like I said, everything else was amazing, and I wouldn't let a couple of hot and dusty taxi rides across the savannah deter anyone from having their very own West African adventure. Here are my hot tips and quick picks for anyone out there considering a jaunt to 'the Dark Continent':

HIGHLIGHTS:
• the beaches, especially Anomabo Beach in Ghana
• the food, especially gari foto (like couscous), Jollof rice (kind of fried rice), brochettes (spicy grilled meat on sticks), and palava sauce
• village visit
• market shopping (somehow always immensely more satisfying that shopping in a store)

• Elmina town; beautiful setting, oozing colonial atmosphere thanks to a UNESCO programme promoting preservation and economic development of heritage buildings

BE SURE TO:
• Pick up some CDs of West African music – people hawk them everywhere for cheap on the side of the street – also, Rough Guides has some good compilations of West African music if you want to get in the mood before you go.
• Figure out the visa situation ahead of time. I saved myself 85$ over Jenni and Ashely by getting one single-entry visa and one transit visa for Ghana instead of getting a multiple-entry visa like they did. We all saved ourselves 35$ by getting our Togolese visa at the border rather than at the embassy in Ottawa.
• Find out if you’re your bank card will work there – mine didn’t, despite assurances from my bank that it ‘probably’ would. I was prepared for the possibility and got cash advances on my Visa. (Mastercard is useless in West Africa). Ashley’s card worked in Ghana, but wouldn’t work in Togo.
• Brush up on your French – trying to get by with English only might be possible but tricky in Togo and Bénin. You'll save yourself a lot of trouble if you just muddle through the murky memory of your high school French text. Learning a few words of Twi (in Ghana), or Ewe (in Togo) will get you big smiles and maybe a lower price in the market.

• If you use a digital camera, be sure to show people the pictures you take of them – they love it

• Eat at 'Country Kitchen' in Accra for some dee-licious food with fancy Ghanaians

IF I'D HAD MORE TIME:
• Mole National Park in the north of Ghana is supposed to be the best place in the world to get close to elephants
• Abomey in Bénin was the capital of a huge West African kingdom in pre-colonial days and you can visit the restored palaces
• Tamberma country in the isolated far north of Togo where people live in fortress-like homes built for protection against slave-raiders from Abomey
• Kumasi in central Ghana reportedly has the best market in West Africa and palaces of the Asante kings dot the city

So, what are you waiting for!? Go buy your ticket already!

Mid-Trip Report

We are now in enjoying Togo after our stay in Ghana. Here are the highlights so far: Elmina, Anomabo Beach, delicious Ghanian food, cinematic beachfront Togolese border-post.

Having a great time. Details to follow.

Hope you are all well back home.