Ain't This The Truth...

Turning 25, Fiji Style...

...by having a few friends from USP over at our place on Saturday night...

...and going to our favourite Suva restaurant, Daikoku, on the actual birthday evening. Birthday day was spent at school, where I had the touching/mortifying (who knew there could be a fine line between these?) experience of being sung to by the whole Primary Staff in our staff meeting. And then again the next day in assembly. Anyway, enough of that...back to Daikoku. As ever, we chose the amazing Teppan-Yaki, which is cooked right in front of you. Garlic butter prawns, losbter tails, New Zealand salmon, scallops...I tried to get some close-ups, but our chef was flipping too fast...or too flipping fast, a-ha, a-ha. All topped off with a bottle of red when we got home...and on a school night, too! Naughty, naughty...

An Ode To Teaching...

from pbase.com

I started off this crazy year

With some hope and a lot of fear.

How on earth was I meant to teach

When patience was so far from reach?

How could I ever gain control

When I could not be stern at all?

Would I simply go round the bend?

But in I went, at the deep end

With 16 kids under my wing

Who needed help in everything-

Then 3 weeks later, parent’s night

Along with a pneumonia fright.

But things soon began to improve

As I once more started to move.

Soon I got back into the flow

Of school, and slowly got to know

All of my students- how they work-

And quickly discovered the main perk

Of teaching- each child’s unique

And gives you their own brand of cheek!

For us teachers the real test

Is bringing out each child’s best

And making sure that they believe

How much they really CAN achieve.

Reports were not such a disaster;

Writing them made me the master

Of adjectives and the praising phrase

Even if they sent me into a daze!

I think that it just goes to show

That sometimes when you think you know

Who you are, and what you can do-

You really do not have a clue!

I thought my patience would wear thin,

That I’d assert no discipline-

And yes, sometimes I found it hard

When a kid caught me right off guard-

But mostly I just kept my cool

And was strict without being cruel,

(On the whole) the kids took my word

And did not think I was absurd

(Well, not that I knew, anyway!)

So, what else is there to say?

My fellow teachers- what a bunch,

I’ve enjoyed our chats over lunch,

You’ve made it hard for me to go-

So kind and helping me to grow

In confidence about my teaching,

Supporting me without preaching.

So vinaka, my teacher friends-

And before this little rhyme ends

I must thank each and every one

Of my students for all the fun

And smiles you’ve brought me each day-

You’ve also made me want to stay.

You’ve made me laugh, you’ve made me think,

You’ve often driven me to drink

And made me think I’ve lost the plot…

But damn, I’ll miss you lovable lot.

from bbc.co.uk

 P.S Will get round to taking some of my own pictures soon!

Six Weeks Until Our Next Adventure...

...not that I'm counting down or anything. Don't get me wrong, there are many things I'll miss about lovely Fiji: the kind, humorous at International School Suva, the students I've grown to know and love, beautiful beaches just hours away, our apartment with a view. But I cannot ignore my inner travel bug; it's beginning to flutter more and more, unable to take the excitement of the incredible journey ahead of us...

 

"To move, to breathe, to fly, to float, 

To gain all while you give, 

To roam the roads of lands remote: 

To travel is to live." 

Hans Christian Andersen

REVIEW: THE SENSE OF AN ENDING- Julian Barnes

As the winner of the esteemed Man Booker Prize, I had high expectations of The Sense Of An Ending from the start. Past winners have proved their worth: Adiga's The White Tiger was inspired, Rushdie's Midnight's Children was tricky at times, but a worthy winner. I'd heard twitters that this was a strangely ordinary Man Booker Prize choice: a controversial comment that made me want to read it all the more.

Unintentionally, this was a very appropriate book to read after The Good Soldier. Both books feature a protagonist looking back on his life- and past love- in light of some unexpected news. However, while The Good Soldier annoyed me, Barnes' novel continued to charm me throughout. Each main character constantly analyses his failings, and how they have lead them to their current situation- but somehow I felt more sympathy for Tony. Perhaps this was due to Tony's idolation of Adrian, his exceptionally intelligent high school friend, was more understandable than John Dowell's obsession with the cheating scoundrel Edward Ashburnham.

But enough of The Good Soldier; Barnes' novel holds enough insight and emotion to stand alone. In short, Tony Webster, along with his high school clique, befriend the outstandingly clever Adrian, who later goes to Cambridge. The group of four all go to separate universities, and begin to live separate lives. At Bristol University, Tony starts dating the righteous, pompous and alluring Veronica Ford, and introduces her to his former high-school chums on one of their rare reunions. Little does Tony know what will result out of this seemingly innocent meeting- both in the short and long term.

Barnes cleverly makes the reader empathise with the reader without even realising; just as Tony looks back on his life once he finally 'gets' what Vernoica tries to tell him, so the reader looks back in the novel and views certain events in a whole new light. Characters that invited sympathy at the beginning of Tony's narrative no longer do so, and those who are considered the 'villans' suddenly appear to be the heroes. The revelation at the end certaintly gave me a shock, and so I feel for Tony when Veronica repeatedly tells him: 'You just don't get it, do you?'

I truly felt 'the sense of [not wanting] an ending'. All the more delightful and poignant for it's relatively conciseness, I was left wanting to find out what happened to Tony- and Veronica- next. Memory is a truly fascinating- and surprisingly malleable- thing. With this novel, Barnes clearly aimed to demonstrate the power and persuasion of memory, and how it can be coaxed out of hiding and manipulated according to current circumstances. The author has fulfilled his goal superbly; his novel may seem ordinary to some critics, but Barnes makes us realise the extraordinary nature of ordinary human memory and emotions- something that we often take for granted.

REVIEW: THE GOOD SOLDIER- Ford Madox Ford

I hate to start reviews on a pessimistic note, but I'm very relieved to have finished this book. Not Midnight's Children relieved, not even The Count Of Monte Cristo relieved; this book was not as challenging linguistically or plot wise as these two respectively. In fact, the language and plot were both easily understood. No, I was relieved to finish for a far more sinister reason; to put it bluntly, it bored me.

Told from the perspective of American John Dowell, The Good Soldier tells the tale of the narrator's experiences with Leonora and Edward Ashburnham in the early 1900s, revealing the latter couple's life history and personal tragedies along the way. Dowell is in awe of Edward, hence calling him 'the good soldier'...all in spite of Edward's selfish actions that not only hurt his own wife Leonora, but also Dowell himself.

Of course, I'm always one to appreciate originality; there's no doubt that the way it's written is both unique and revolutionary for the 1920s. The narrator does not tell a chronological tale; it follows the natural ebb and flow of hindsight recollection. When I compare it to another outside-narrator telling the tale of one he admires- The Great Gatsby- I wonder how one can bore me so much, and one can be my favourite book of all tim.? I think the differences lie in both the language- Nick lived through Fitzgerald's beautiful words in TGG- and the characterisation. Though both are flawed, somehow Gatsby and Nick conjured up more sympathy in me than Ashburnham and Dowell. Unfortunately, the only character I ended up liking in TGS, and that I felt was truly three dimensional, was the  long-suffering Leonora...made all the more likeable by Dowell's constand disdain for her. When reading a book, I've realised that although I don't necessarily need to like EVERY aspect of a narrator.. but I do need to feel some sort of sympathy and understanding. I understand Dowell's bitterness, but feel that it is directed towards the wrong people.

So, this is the first review I've written where I would not necessarily recommend the book. Apparently, the book's original title was The Saddest Story, but after WW1, Ford's publishers believed this inappropriate, and asked for another title. The Good Soldier was the author's sarcastic suggestion, but one I feel gave extra personality that- in my opinion- both Dowell and the novel needed. It makes the reader see Dowell from the offset as an admirer, not a depressive.

Despite all my criticism, ironically the final pages, after all that tedium, were a surprisingly moving conclusion. If only the narrator had been this dynamic the whole way through, instead of speaking in the mournful, self-loathing voice he chooses instead...this book could have been up there with The Great Gatsby as one of my favourites. 

A Little Jaunt At The Intercontinental......

Just a few pictures from our weekend away at the Intercontinental, Natadola Beach...thank you so much Colleen and Bob! Wish I could have been there first time round with you guys. Such a beautiful hotel...the perfect place to both relax and play. Well, I did most of the relaxing...Patrick was out on the water playing on his new toy!

The view from our room...can I move in forever??

Lovely to spend time with George and Georgina.

Patrick using his brand new surfboard for the first time...

Swimming to catch a wave...

Patrick waiting for a wave with his new Japanese surfer friends...

Possibly Patrick on a wave; you all know how blind I am, haha!

Gotta love an infinity pool...