Matador Network's Blog, page 2146

Why Istanbul is the best place to teach ESL

Photo: Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade

AN AMERICAN FRIEND I had taught with in Taiwan beckoned me to Istanbul with tales of local men serenading Western women, luring them into love spells with baklava. Her descriptions of lunch by the seaside and bustling spice markets charmed me all the way to the travel agency.

“It’s my New York, but better,” she had said.

I got my suitcase and tea glass ready.

Upon arriving, a crowd of fake blondes congregated at the airport entry gates with the sort of urgency that says: “This is a great place.” Counting bright headscarf after bright headscarf, my first impression of Istanbul was part-Europe, part-Asia, and part hyperactive kid on the beach.

Now that I have been living and teaching in Istanbul for a few months, there’s still enough radiation to keep me feeling like a holiday girl, even teaching forty plus hours a week.

Considerations for teaching

Money

When contemplating a job here, it is important to remember that you are still the same old barking English teacher that you are anywhere else in Asia, but you will probably get paid decent money and have enough eager students to make it worthwhile.

Local Vibe

Be prepared to entertain your students as much as you teach them, and anticipate to be showered with home-cooked food from friendly students who appreciate the effort you put into your classes. Most will be willing to share their language and culture.

Culture

Photo: Barbaros Kayan

Should you tire of the workaholic schedule that English schools will likely impose, there is always the hammam (Turkish bath) to indulge in, where a burly masseuse or masseur, will scrub you like Hercules.

More like this: What NOT to do in Istanbul

Cuisine

Culinary delights abound, including fish still squirming fresh on the market table, sold by boisterous men in rubber boots. Rice is most often replaced with a range of other, more inspiring carbohydrates, like flower-shaped herb bread, and cherry-filled baklava.

The mighty lamb is prevalent, sliced with grilled peppers and tomatoes, and served together with yogurt, cilantro, and pita bread.

Job Placement

For those seeking ESL teaching work in Istanbul, numerous jobs abound, and can be found simply by walking into the language schools themselves, or by applying with a resume, cover letter, photo, and scanned copy of qualifications and passport over the Internet.

While I have never heard of an English school here that doesn’t need teachers (which means you will probably be working some serious overtime) private language schools mostly hire people with a Canadian, British, Australian, or American passport, a TESOL certificate (or similar qualification) and/or a degree in any subject, from a recognized university.

First-time teachers are usually welcome, as are people of various ages. My current work staff includes everyone from ages twenty to fifty-five, and they are generally sane people, from various professional backgrounds.

Accomodation

Some schools provide accommodation, but most don’t. However, there are throngs of English teachers actively searching for roommates, and most language schools will offer some help in finding an affordable and comfortable place to live.

Prices

Costs for accommodation, food, and other necessities of life are comparable to Canada, the US, and some parts of Europe. As Turkey is in close proximity to several Middle-Eastern and European countries, you may also want to travel.

Depending on whether or not you choose to go by train, plane, bus, or car, prices can vary from the extraordinarily cheap to the staggeringly expensive.

More like this: 10 things to know about Turkey

Activities

Photo: Miguel Virkkunen Carvalho

Istanbul has no shortage of things to do. In the Greek Quarter, old women haggle over striped socks at the market and fruit vendors greet shoppers with heaping triangles of olives and figs. Speeding taxis with bashed-in fronts steer and skid amongst the crowds of pedestrians spilling over the curbs in the downtown districts.

Ladies selling flowers by the boat docks push stems of daffodils under your nose, commanding, in their hats and headscarves, a mere dollar a bundle.

One of my best moments so far in Istanbul has been taking pictures of stray cats in a historic graveyard at 7am, while men and women beat carpets, men prayed, and children chased pigeons. People were doing their everyday activities, but it was nonetheless impressive.

Nightlife

Photo: Matthias Rhomberg

Numerous nightclubs in almost every area of the city provide a comfortable places for expats and locals alike to get their groove on. While going out is expensive, one will feel at the end of the evening, as if their money has been well spent.

In Istanbul, atmosphere is everything- clubs and pubs are usually “dressed to the nines” with plush velour, seaside seating, water pipes, hip music, and cheerful chatter in a multitude of languages.

For me, Istanbul is a spot to rest my rucksack while I’m turning the tricks of the English-teaching trade, but my respect for the place and its people now goes beyond my initial pinwheel of tourist images. It is now my temporary home, and one that I see myself returning to.

For aspiring and seasoned travelers, there is no other city that quite captures the glamor of a martini glass, the pizzazz of a belly dancer, and the wild imagination of two continents.

As for whether it’s “better than New York,” I’m hardly to judge, but surely, anyone who comes here to teach will not be disappointed.

This article was originally published on April 17th, 2008.

How to piss off a female bartender

Photo: Dmitry Boyarin

There are thousands of ways to piss off a female, let alone a female bartender. We encounter sexism when we tell people what we do for a living and sexual harassment when we are just trying to do our jobs. Unfortunately, most of these people who piss us off just don’t get it and genuinely don’t know any better. We should all think about the way we treat bartenders, women, and other human beings in general.

The thing is, I would never quit being a bartender because I love love love my job. I enjoy serving people, listening to their problems and making sure they are happy and having a good time. Most of my customers are awesome and I wouldn’t let a few people who don’t know how to act ruin that.

Touch us inappropriately

We are bartenders, not escorts. Unfortunately it seems as though some individuals confuse the two. This is assault, and you will be forcefully evicted out the door.

Tell us to smile

Do people walk around your office telling you to smile while you’re sitting at your desk?

Snap or whistle

The same goes for waving your money, shouting, or literally anything else that you wouldn’t do out in the real world.

Say “Nice tits,” or any other derogatory comment

This behaviour is completely unacceptable. Sexual harassment makes me want to punch people in the face. The high road, however, is far more effective and worth the effort.

Assume we don’t have any structure in our lives

There’s a misconception that we are always all drunk, promiscuous, living paycheck-to-paycheck and this is simply not true.

Assume we are uneducated

Tending bar is a hard, dirty, working-class job and so many people seem to think that any bimbo can do it. Wrong! Not every bartender necessarily has a college education but a whole lot do. Sure, it’s often in something like Philosophy or History, but believe me, the person serving your drinks is more likely than not, extremely intelligent.

Body shaming

Apparently wearing a tank top, even though it can be hot as balls, is an automatic invitation for people to comment on our bodies. It’s not all men though — women are guilty of this, too.

9 signs it's time to leave Indiana

Photo: Tyler Rayburn

1. Wal-Mart is the hottest place to be on a Friday night.

When the movie theater and the mall are at least 40 miles away, the bright lights of Wal-Mart start looking pretty interesting. Folks gather in their pickup trucks, pulling out the coolers, lawn chairs, and occasional confederate flag to grace the night in drunken revelry. It ain’t fancy, but there’s enough room for everyone’s car and restocking the beer is as easy as crossing the parking lot.

2. You’ve loosened your belt loop.

It’s likely you’ve gained a little weight during your tenure; Indiana is one of America’s most-obese states. Fast-food joints outrank the number of churches, which is saying something for the bible belt. We take unhealthy to a new level: every year at the Indiana State Fair, people consume over 37,000 milkshakes and 10,500 deep-fried Snickers. Our eating habits, paired with an environment that encourages inactivity, is a recipe for all sorts of health problems. If you default to ordering fried, not grilled, you’re becoming one of us.

3. Light beer is the right beer.

Since most of our meals come from a drive-thru, light beer is the easiest way to cut down on calories (and cost). We can afford to throw back a few more when we’re hanging out with friends.

4. Your ego is proportional to the size of your pickup truck.

Pickup trucks are meant for trailers, firewood, and various other oversized items. However, repeated exposure to country music, extra-large parking spaces, and social pressure could have you buying into the extended-cab hype, even if you’ve never towed anything. Some say it’s worth getting only 15-miles per gallon as long as your truck looks bigger than your neighbors — and has a hemi.

5. There are two seasons: NASCAR and football.

In true Midwestern fashion, Indiana weekends are spent indoors, watching ESPN with a Keystone Light on a coaster within arm’s reach. From October through January, this is Colt’s Country. Since the Indianapolis Colts last won the Superbowl in 2007, we haven’t given up hope that this year could be it. Some of us in silence and some in great fits of testosterone, we beg the Lord for just one more yard or field goal so that the Colts will have another chance at winning the season. However, if our team is having a bad day, Indiana fans are happy to switch alliances to whoever has a chance to crush the Denver Broncos, more specifically hoping for an imminent injury to Peyton Manning.

By the time the Superbowl is over, we’re ready to move on to our next sport that is simple enough for anyone to follow: watching cars drive in circles, otherwise known as NASCAR. Most outsiders know Indiana for hosting the Indy 500, but few people in the state care about Indy car racing. Indiana folks remain loyal to the true American sport of stock-car racing. This gives reason to tailgate through the spring, summer, and fall until the season ends in November — although most of us have already switched back to football by then.

6. You’ve forgotten how to use public transportation.

Cars, trucks, and the occasional tractor speckle the roads, but you almost never see a bus. Indiana’s cities aren’t densely populated enough or designed in a way to make public transit a viable option for most people. Unfortunately, the only kind of subway that exists for us is the sandwich shop.

7. You have camouflage everything.

If your camo clothing makes an appearance outside of a hunting trip, you might be giving yourself away.

8. If God isn’t on every corner, it’s not a neighborhood you want to be in.

From small towns to big cities, God is everywhere. There’s a church on every block and as long as you subscribe to Christianity, your spiritual needs will be met. Churches are the epicenter of community and social activities, always doing their best to keep the flock out of trouble. Although the cross may deter Buddhists, atheists, and Pastafarians, consider it a sign that it’s safe to walk around at night.

9. You’re a nicer person.

Waiters, salespeople, even drivers on the road are more considerate and pleasant to deal with in Indiana. We’re a state full of courteous people who go out of their way to hold open doors and make you feel a little more welcome. You can’t help but reciprocate their amiable attitude. It’s a gift to bring with you to your next destination.

14 reasons to hit Vegas in winter

1. Wandering amid sculpted stone in the Valley of Fire

Photo: cjarv2010

As the name suggests, this scenic state park — Nevada’s oldest and largest — can get rather warm during the summer, and by warm we mean temperatures up to 120 degrees. Best to take in its stunning sandstone formations, ancient rock art, and winding trails during the cool season. Pack a picnic lunch for a day trip, or load up the car and snag one of 72 campsites for an overnight among the park’s undulating rocks and canyons. At less than an hour’s drive northeast of downtown Las Vegas, you’ll have no trouble getting there.

2. Warming up at Gold Strike Hot Springs

Every hike needs a rewarding destination, and it doesn’t get much better than this canyon scramble on the way to a relaxing soak in one of the state’s finest natural hot springs. Take note: The 6.5-mile round-trip route is no casual stroll. Small sections require basic climbing and rappelling, with ropes attached to ease the journey. Stop along the way to bathe in various pools — try to find the secret Cave of Wonders — or hike to the bottom and take a break on the bank of the Colorado River. The trailhead is along Gold Strike Canyon Road, just off US 93.

3. Flying the friendly skies

Photo: Skydive Las Vegas

Sure, you can jump out of a plane any time of year, but winter’s bright, clear skies make it prime time for killer views on the way down. Skydive Las Vegas takes rookies up for tandem jumps, each pair free-falling for up to a minute at well over 100mph before pulling their parachute and coasting back to solid ground. Resist the urge to put it all on black while the adrenaline is still pumping.

4. Unplugging at Mt. Charleston Cabins

If you think winter days are best spent surrounded by snowy pines in a woodsy lodge, grab your Pendleton blanket and head for Mt. Charleston Cabins. Located at 7,717 feet in the thick of Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest and just 45 minutes from downtown Las Vegas, this rustic retreat is a serious escape, albeit with amenities like jetted tubs, fireplaces, and the nearby lodge where you can grab a hot toddy and an elk burger while gazing out over the snow-dusted trees. And since cell reception is spotty at best (and there’s no cable, wifi, or land lines in the cabins), you won’t feel pressured to live-tweet the weekend. Rates start from $118.

5. Scaling the cliffs at Red Rock Canyon

Photo courtesy of TravelNevada

Glowing in terracotta tones on the western edge of the Vegas Valley, Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area is home to some of the best rock climbing in the US, as well as stunning geological formations, hiking trails, petroglyphs, and even a few fossilized dinosaur tracks. Winter brings cool days and plenty of sun — a great combo for climbers looking to take on the park’s sandstone cliffs with sport climbs or multi-pitch ascents. Check out routes with names like Epinephrine and Sour Mash, or go straight for the Original — a 14-pitch, 1,000ft route up Juniper Canyon’s Rainbow Wall.

6. Exploring the Mojave on horseback

Steer through canyon narrows cut by water and wind and see Red Rock’s bluffs painted by the sinking sun on Cowboy Trail Rides’ sunset excursion ($169), a leisurely exploration of the Mojave’s wonders. Keep an eye out for burros and coyotes along the trail, then head back to camp for a steak dinner followed by s’mores and a campfire song or two. Like everything else in the desert surrounding Las Vegas, this trip is most comfortably taken during winter.

7. Getting behind the wheel of a dune buggy

Photo: SunBuggy

Your 4WD SUV has nothing on these rough and rugged desert warriors that are perfectly suited for tackling sandy dunes and other off-road gnarliness. Just outside the city, SunBuggy runs relaxed, scenic drives ($149+), as well as the Mini Baja Chase ($199+), an edge-of-your-seat mock race where you’ll be blasting over challenging terrain in the driver’s seat.

8. Tearing down Bootleg Canyon’s mountain bike trails

This Boulder City canyon just outside of Vegas has 36 miles of single track, ranging from beginner-friendly cross-country to white-knuckle downhill (how about the Elevator Shaft’s 22% grade?), all cutting through a seriously scenic southern Nevada landscape. All Mountain Cyclery runs shuttles to the top for $5 a trip, as well as trail tours ($179 including rental) and bike rentals, so you can tackle an epic ride without lugging your gear from home.

9. Soaring over the desert by zipline

Photo courtesy of TravelNevada

Take in the southern Nevada terrain from a bird’s-eye perspective along four ziplines ($159+) that zoom over a mile and a half of canyon landscape just south of Las Vegas. The tour at Flightlinez Bootleg Canyon kicks off with a brief hike to the top of Red Mountain, where you’ll harness up for a burly 1,852ft first run that can reach speeds of up to 60mph. The progressive lines stretch up to about half a mile, giving you a chance to absorb the view, if not to catch your breath.

Pro tip: Keep an eye out for bighorn sheep on the morning tour, or go for the full-moon ride for a totally different experience.

10. Scoping out a ghost town

Rich with metals and minerals, southern Nevada mines brought big money and big crowds to the region in the late 1800s and early 1900s. But when the mines gave out, the miners moved on, leaving behind homes, roads, and communities to slowly decay in the baking heat. These days, those eerie, abandoned towns are tourist attractions that make for great places to catch a glimpse of the past. Check out Goldfield, Nelson (population 37 as of 2010 census), or Rhyolite for some classic examples, or visit St. Thomas, a town that was submerged by Lake Mead in the 1930s and has reemerged in recent years as the water level has dropped.

11. Strolling through Springs Preserve

Photo courtesy of TravelNevada

Las Vegas was named for spring-fed meadows in the middle of the Mojave Desert, and this outdoor attraction in the middle of the city was built around the town’s original water source. Today’s Springs Preserve ($18.95) is home to sprawling gardens featuring cacti and other native plants, and family-friendly walking and biking trails that are best enjoyed when the valley isn’t blistering in the sun. You’ll also find the Nevada State Museum here, with some stellar natural history exhibits.

12. Cycling the River Mountains Loop Trail

This 34-mile loop around the River Mountains is a favorite among locals, who hit the paved trail for casual rides as well as serious training. Take it in sections — along the shore of Lake Mead, up the Three Sisters hills, or through Boulder City where you can stop for a pint at Boulder Dam Brewing Co. — or pull on some bike shorts and ride the whole damn thing. Just be sure to pack plenty of water…it’s a desert out there, winter or not. Find trailheads in Boulder City, Henderson, and Lake Mead NRA.

13. Not frying in Death Valley

Photo: 白士 李

“Hottest, driest, lowest,” brags the website for this national park straddling the border of Nevada and California. Highs average 116 degrees in July, putting something of a damper on exploring outside the air-conditioned confines of your vehicle. In contrast, winter is hiking season, with polished canyons, rolling sand dunes, and snowy peaks to traverse. Even the Badwater salt flats, nearly 200 miles of barren landscape that sits 282 feet below sea level, can be downright pleasant. The gateway communities of Pahrump and Beatty are 1 hour and 1:45 from Vegas, respectively.

14. Shredding the slopes at Las Vegas Ski & Snowboard Resort

No one pictures alpine sports when they think Vegas, but less than an hour from downtown the Las Vegas Ski & Snowboard Resort has three lifts and 30 trails with options for everyone from noob to pro (bring your avalanche kit and expect to hike for the latter). Located in the Spring Mountains district of Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, the slopes at LVSSR receive an average 212 inches of snow annually. And with Vegas a short drive away, you can spend the day working your turns and then be back at your hotel in time for happy hour — or a well-earned soak in the hot tub.

This post is proudly produced in partnership with our friends at TravelNevada.

US states in 1 smart ass sentence

Photo: Kevin Bond

Alabama: We may be 49th in everything, but thank God for Mississippi.

Alaska: No, you can’t see Russia from here.

Arizona: Our main exports are heat stroke and rabid xenophobia.

Arkansas: Literrasy ain’t everything.

California: Where American dreamers settle for doing porn.

Colorado: Laughing at your altitude sickness since 1876.

Connecticut: We’re kinda close to the places you really want to be, like Boston and NYC.

Delaware: The first state, and that’s about it.

Florida: A wonderful place to enjoy some pain pills and die of old age. Or vice versa.

Georgia: Without Atlanta, we’re Alabama.

Hawaii: Haka Tiki Mou Sha’ami Leeki Toru (Death to mainland scum, but leave your money).

Idaho: More than just potatoes. Ok, maybe not, but the potatoes are real good.

Illinois: Where a politician’s term in office and prison sentence are roughly the same.

Indiana: Dan Quayle’s favorite country!

Iowa: Counting down the days until an election makes us relevant again.

Kansas: Come for the corn, stay for the tornadoes.

Kentucky: 5 million people, 15 last names.

Louisiana: We’re also thankful for Mississippi.

Maine: Stephen King really likes it here!

Maryland: If you can dream it, we can tax it, hon.

Massachusetts: We hope you enjoy both of our seasons, Winter and Construction.

Michigan: Where lake effect snow will bury you alive 10 ft. from your front door.

Minnesota: 10,000 lakes and 10,000,000,000 mosquitoes.

Mississippi: We make slightly less shitty states look GOOD.

Missouri: We love company.

Montana: The birthplace of the letter bomb.

Nebraska: Where the majority of the population has been intimate with a corn cob.

Nevada: Helping degenerates part with their money since 1864.

New Hampshire: A great place to stop for gas on your way to Canada.

New Jersey: Hope you like traffic, asshole.

New Mexico: Breaking Bad was the best thing that ever happened to us.

New York: If you have it, we’ll tax it, and if it’s fun, we’ll regulate it until it’s no longer fun.

North Carolina: Despite being North, we’re still as redneck as South Carolina.

North Dakota: All the weather or Canada without any of the health care.

Ohio: We like to swing.

Oklahoma: One tornado away from being Mississippi.

Oregon: Still a 50/50 chance you’ll die of dysentery.

Pennsylvania: Our Amish can beat up Pennsylvania’s Amish.

Rhode Island: If we were any less significant, we’d be Delaware.

South Carolina: We secretly pledge allegiance to the Confederate flag.

South Dakota: Closer than North Dakota.

Tennessee: Leading the nation in fat dudes who die while taking a dump.

Texas: Heaven if you are a high school quarterback. Hell if you are gay, black, an immigrant or a woman.

Utah: A great place to raise a couple of families.

Vermont: 75% hippies, 24.999% rednecks and .001% who came for the foliage.

Virginia: Southern enough to suck for northerners and northern enough to suck for southerners.

Washington: Where more things are legal and everything is damp.

West Virginia: Our obesity problem can be explained in two words: pepperoni rolls.

Wisconsin: Way too cold to be sober.

Wyoming: Where men are men and sheep are scared.

3 Filipino habits I lost in the US

Photo: burritjoe

IT’S BEEN 6 YEARS now and I’m no longer fresh off the boat from the Philippines. I’ve traded in “ehh, ano…” for “uhm, like…” I’ve stopped taking the hands of seniors to my forehead and touching my cheeks to the cheeks of strangers I meet. No hotdogs in my sweetened spaghetti, no tabo (a water dipper) in my bathroom, and no plastic wrap for my college textbooks. I’ve lost quite a few of my Filipino habits in the process of assimilating into the lifestyle of the everyday American.

1. I have long talks with strangers.

I moved to San Francisco a few years after living in Los Angeles. I was new to American public transit and had to take the Caltrain every day. I employed all techniques taught to young, privileged girls like me in Manila to ward off the rapists, kidnappers, and thieves out and about. I’d wear earphones without an iPod and unwelcomingly opaque sunglasses. I’d always snag the seat next to a pleasant-looking lady or a fellow college student. At times, I’d even pretend to be on the phone when I felt a little unsafe while waiting by the tracks for a train.

One day, I forgot my earphones. A Caucasian man in his mid-30s asked for help with figuring out the train schedule. I remember my eyes widening, wondering why no one nearby was swooping in to save me. I thought back to Manila where there were separate trains for men and women for our public transit — this wouldn’t have happened if I was on the lady train, I thought.

Hesitantly, I answered his question out of fear that he would stab me if I ignored him. He chuckled in relief once I told him that he just had to run his finger down the timetable to know what time he’d arrive at his stop. I thought that would be it, then he went on to ask me where I was going. This is where he follows and kidnaps me, I thought. So I lied and said that I was actually getting off at the next stop and that I had to wait by the doors now.

He must have sensed my reservations. He proceeded to talk about how he was catching up with his wife and kids for a Giants game at AT&T Ball Park and how he couldn’t wait to have clam chowder bread bowls by the pier — and how I definitely needed to try those bread bowls! This must be what Americans call “small talk,” I thought to myself. I got off at my fake stop and he thanked me and told me to “Take care!”

Now, while I’m not inviting strangers I pick up off the street for brunch on a daily basis, I am at a point where upon observing a friendly-looking stranger wearing a cute pair of flats, I’ll ask her “Where’d you get those?” Bumping heads with someone in Books, Inc. while reaching for the same, obscure title will lead to a lengthy, intellectual discussion.

Overhearing tourists wondering which way the Asian Art Museum is, I’ll happily jump in to give directions, and even suggest a stroll through Yerba Buena Gardens on the way over. Though in Manila, you’ll be likely to get a smile back from a passerby, it’s not likely that you’ll string out a long conversation with someone just because you’re both wearing Giants jerseys, like in San Francisco.

2. If I want an extra helping, I don’t refuse it.

When you’re an invited guest at a dinner party in Manila and you finish your first plate, it’s customary to play a little game of “Oh no, I can’t” and “Oh please, don’t be silly. Have some more!” with the host as she tries to serve you another helping. Even if you are hankering for more chicken adobo, you are somewhat expected to play along until the second or third time she insists.

This is a game that I’ve tried to play as a guest in American home, which doesn’t usually end up with an extra serving on my plate. Instead, I’d get a respectful “Okay, then!” and the host would move on to the next guest. My American host never realized that I was just playfully refusing. When I said that I was on a diet and therefore could not possibly have had another bite, I was actually waiting for her to tell me that I was already too skinny — so skinny that I needed more mashed potatoes to fill in my scrawny, little arms.

The game ends similarly when it comes to fighting over the bill. A wealthier friend would invite me out to lunch at fancy, Mediterranean place by her house and I would just assume that she’d know that we’d either split or she’d pay, seeing as she made more money. But I’d slip my card onto the bill and tell her that “I’ve got it!” just out of habit and much to my dismay…she’d let me pay. My Filipino friends would at least attempt to start a bit of lively banter over the bill, but Americans tend to thank you and take you up on what they assume is a sincere offer.

Filipinos value a sense of propriety, which ties into the Filipino term hiya, which is our embarrassment over being too outspoken or feeling like we’re imposing ourselves on others. Americans, on the other hand, value directness. If you want something, do something about it. No sense in beating around the bush, as they say.

Being a Filipina, I came to America thinking that people knew that I was being coy and that it was impolite to tell anyone what I want directly. When an American would, god forbid, express to me exactly what they wanted to do, I was taken aback every time. Learning to be straightforward was definitely a transition that I had to make living in the US.

3. I’m happy to wait in line and even let people go ahead.

A few years after moving to San Francisco, a friend of mine visited from Manila. I decided to take her sightseeing along Market Street. We planned to take the BART there, and so I showed her how to buy a ticket at the kiosk and we walked to the platform where we waited for our train. I compared the San Francisco BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) to the MRT (Metro Manila Rapid Transit) which she and I used to ride back in Manila.

Our train to Pittsburg / Bay Point approached and started to stop, then I watched as my friend instinctively rushed over to stand directly in front of the door. There were plenty of doors opening up and there wasn’t much of a crowd to fight through. I suppose she didn’t notice that most people were standing by the sides so that commuters on the train could step off before we boarded. I tugged on her shirt and led her aside so that those commuters could do just that.

In Manila, it’s standard to fight your way through when commuting. With at least 12 million Filipinos concentrated in the urban metropolis of Metro Manila, it feels logical to fight for yourself in every situation. Understandably, when taking the MRT or even entering a mall, crowds can set you off into a kind of survival mode.

I cleared up the confusion for my dear Filipina friend, explaining that Americans generally line up and take turns. They don’t tend to worry about finding room on the train, because there is usually a spot to sit or stand without having to fight for it. It’s simple experiences like these that make me realize how far I have come from Manila.

What is your winter cocktail? [QUIZ]

Featured photo by rpavich

Kayakers race down a drainage ditch

File this one under “Crazy but Awesome.” Pro kayakers Ben Marr and Rush Sturges come across a drainage ditch with a nice, consistent downhill pitch and just enough water to float a boat somewhere around Vancouver, BC. So what’s a pro kayaker to do? Bomb it, of course. Check this run and try not to freak out. Who knows, maybe they’re the first kayakers to get road rash.

8 signs your girlfriend is English

Photo: Dr John 2005

1. She can drink you under the table.

You can boast with your friend about your high resistance to alcohol, but with an English girlfriend you’ll soon find out you still have a long way to go before being called a MAN!

2. You’re not stoked on her cooking skills.

Don’t let her cook. Just don’t. Even if your cooking skills are average or bad, she’ll be probably be worse. We’re talking cold beans on toast with some vaguely melted cheese on top.

3. She is allergic to the sun.

English girls love the sun, they simply are not getting enough back home. They only wish the sun would love them back. Laying down on a sunny beach you’ll become a full-time sun cream-spreading machine.

4. She is also allergic to clothes in general.

Anywhere else in the world, people adapt the clothes they wear to the season, but your English girlfriend will just wear whatever she feels like — no matter the season or the temperature. It could be -2 in January; she’ll be going out in flip flops and pajamas. It could be sunny and 26 degrees and she’ll be in bikini and Ugg boots. On a night out she’ll be wearing a skirt even if it’s – 15 and snowing.

5. She doesn’t sound posh.

Before meeting her, you thought English girls would have refined accents, and you actually thought that the ‘Queen’s English’ was more widely used. Well, you were wrong. Your English girl sounds more like a rough, horny sailor with a thick accent you were not prepared for, using terms such as ‘having a giraffe’ and ‘taking the piss’ that you’re still trying to understand.

6. She’s addicted to tea.

She’ll have one as soon she’ll wakes up, she’ll have several pots during the day, leaving tea mugs half empty all over the house or her office, and she’ll have one just before bed. Always with some milk in it, but as a foreigner, you’ll never get the quantity right. But for some strange reason she will never actually call it ‘tea’. When she’ll want a tea, she’ll ask you for a ‘brew’ or for a ‘cuppa’. If she asks you to prepare tea she actually means dinner. Very confusing…

7. She becomes your sports-watching buddy.

Your English girlfriend is not very much into sports herself; the last time she did anything remotely close to sports was during her PE classes in high school. But she’ll love heading down the pub with you for a few pints and to watch some sport. She’ll have very good knowledge of football (she’ll kick me if I call it soccer), rugby and cricket, she is a good supporter and the perfect buddy to watch sports with. You’ll be surprised at the variety and colorfulness of curse words she can use when her favorite team is on.

8. She has a double personality.

Usually your English girlfriend has a very polite and calm personality. She shows good manners and is very considerate of other people. At the bus stop she will stand in the queue and she’ll even allow some people to pass in front of her while waiting for a taxi, sometimes apologizing for no reason. But when the sun sets and a few shots and glasses of wine get in her during a night out, her personality changes and she turns into something like a werewolf, capable of ripping you apart.

6 types of Buenos Aires expats

Photo: Santiago Sito

1. The ex-banker frat-boy expat

The fresh-out-of-Harvard, one-time Bright White Hope of the business world, he was the first in the firing line when the credit crunch came a-crunching in 2008. Landing in Buenos Aires with self-important dreams of founding some entrepreneurial-creative-philanthropy money pit, he soon realized that a far better investment was to shoot his huge bank-job pay-off load on five years of unrepentant partaying. His days are spent in his designer hammock or doing something unconventional with a Frisbee, and his nights alternate between Sugar and Magdalena’s Party (he’s been banned from The Alamo). Can’t stop talking about how awesome Creamfields is gonna be this year.

Speaks next to no Spanish, his one attempt at conventional learning coming to an abrupt end when he had sex with his teacher. After the first class. On the desk. But because he’s two feet taller than you, has the most perfect handshake, is always impeccably dressed, and seems at times to perspire money, you know you’d probably marry him if you were younger and dumber and the right gender. Instead, you just resent and despise him and his amazing Palermo loft as you take the bus home to your damp hovel in Almagro.

2. The “artist / musician / actor / photographer / yeah, I teach English, basically” expat

Buenos Aires was meant to be the launchpad for her momentous ascent on the global arts world, lauded as the multi-talented human epicentre of a vibrant cultural scene of her own making in the dog shit capital Paris of the south. But her indie-cumbia-gospel quintet succumbed to local indifference, her acting career highlight was as a 200-pesos-a-day extra in a Quilmes ad, and her paintings resemble angry sheep revisiting their breakfasts. Which is more than you can say for her photography.

All she’s got to show for the last five years is a dog-eared pile of phrasal verb photocopies and TOEFL practice tests, although she’s long lost any enthusiasm for teaching English, instead using her classes to watch Mad Men and chat to her better-looking students about their love lives. Likes to think of herself as more psychoanalyst than English teacher, which is fine because she isn’t really qualified to do either. Eventually moves back to the UK to teach Spanish in high schools and, understandably, commit suicide.

3. The yoga vegan enlightened world traveler expat

Hasn’t washed her hair or shaved since she arrived at Ezeiza, and writes ferocious blog posts no one reads about the importance of natural beauty, always neglecting to mention that discreet plastic surgery she had on a skiing trip to Mendoza. Pushing 60 but looking early 40s, when she isn’t meditating or whipping up an impromptu lunch of avocado, quinoa, and arugula, she’s telling you on Facebook about how she just meditated and whipped up an impromptu etc. and so on, and posting nuggets of fuzzy wisdom. For such an apparently zen-like figure, she gets into an awful lot of fights on Facebook, resulting in major defriendings and midday openings of gin bottles.

Kind of wound up in Buenos Aires by accident, back before she renounced men forever, and now can’t find her way out, so every new day here is a struggle to fight the resentment bubbling just below the surface and keep her chi in check. Has no idea what’s going on in the country she lives in and hence is constantly asking angry questions on Facebook like “Why are all my neighbours shouting?” and “What are all these fireworks for?!?!?” and “Why is X so expensive / hard to find in this damn town?” to which the answers are 1, Argentina just won the World Cup in a minority sport; 2, it’s New Years Eve; 3, because, well, Argentina.

4. The “Actually I prefer to think of myself as an immigrant” expat

Been here so long he refuses to mix with any Johnny-come-lately who doesn’t have a DNI and an expired passport with at least fifteen Uruguayan stamps. Lives somewhere you’ve never heard of like Villa General Mitre, and when you ask him where that is, he snorts “You know Palermo? Yeah, nowhere near there.” Ostentatiously supports an obscure football team in the B Metropolitana who had a brief flirtation with success back in the mid-90s.

The worst kind of pedantic linguist, he hauls Argentines up on matters of minor grammatical import in their own language, speaks Spanish with a comical Cordobés accent because his wife’s family’s from there and having a porteño accent would be, like, so BA newby, and insists on speaking Spanish to native English speakers, with the excuse that “Yeah, I don’t really speak that much English these days, actually.” Twat.

5. The Pilar / Hurlingham expat

You suspect this one may actually just be an Argentine with a really good English accent, if it wasn’t for that shock of red hair, the cricket whites, and that quintessentially Anglo-Saxon trait of functional alcoholism. Dig a little deeper and it turns out he has distant blood ties with some genocidal Irish-Argentine folk hero and can trace his family tree to Sarah Ferguson and Chris de Burgh. His Argentine wife speaks English with one of those near-perfect RP (River Plate, rather than Received Pronunciation) accents that are the hallmark of an expensive Lenguas Vivas / Joaquín González education, and is incapable of speaking her native Spanish without dropping in and out of English entirely unnecessarily, as in “Deberíamos ir a tomar un nice cup of tea algún día.”

6. The blogger expat

The massed ranks of the world’s English-speaking press never got back to him about that “Laugh-out-loud column about daily life in Buenos Aires” pitch, but that hasn’t put him off churning out weekly lists of lazy stereotypes of both his expat social group and his gracious Argentine hosts that invariably cause more offense than laughter. Fancies himself as a foodie / wine expert, if only so that he can have a boozy 3-hour, 5-course lunch without feeling guilty about the path his life has taken. Believes anything that cannot be reduced to a convenient list is not worth writing or reading and that all forms of humanity and culture can be whittled down to six essential “types.” Spends half his week spamming his own industrious drivel-ridden output on Twitter, since everyone on Facebook except his mum long since blocked the annoying little twerp’s updates.

This article was originally published on DanielTunnard.com, and has been re-published here with permission.