Singaporean Tip of the Day

Last night, I spoke with a British woman who told me the key to beating the maddening heat and humidity in Singapore — buy a house with good ventilation. Nice advice, until one considers that houses here can easily run into the millions. I had to laugh.

This one seems to have good air flow. Maybe, Santa can hook me up.



Note: The above photo is from the free media repository on Wikimedia Commons.

Another Example of Why I Teach

I couldn't feel any more fulfilled right now as a teacher.

Like any academic pursuit, acquiring a second language demands a lot of study, dedication, and perseverance; however, there's an additional, frustratingly unique skill required, a skill that's completely beyond the control of the learner  — the awareness that no matter how hard one works the brain will make sense of a language when and only when the brain is ready and not a moment sooner.

When I lived in Guatemala, I conjugated verbs and memorized vocabulary each day for several hours. That's what overachievers do, and it normally leads to success, but no matter what I tried I found my progress with Spanish to be slow. What does any overachiever do in this situation? He works even more, of course. Still, no success.

It was at this point that my polyglot friend told me I needed to put down the books, take a deep breath, and allow the mystery of language acquisition to unfold without my pushing it.

Having gone through the ordeal, I possess a tremendous amount of patience with students trying to learn English, which is why I wasn't overly worried when my school feared that a Chinese boy wasn't going to make it academically.

The boy, who I'll call Cheng, was withdrawn, never spoke in class, lacked enthusiasm for his studies, and performed poorly on tests. Normally, that would be a formula for failure but not in the case of a second-language learner.

Most students go through a "silent period" when they appear to be confused and might not be saying anything in class but are still processing the new language. Eventually, sometimes months later, the child sorts it out and blossoms.   

Teachers also tend to forget that foreign students often are hundreds or thousands of miles from home; living, in many cases, with extended family or no family; don't understand the culture; lack friends; and have been thrown into classes taught in another language.

Frequently, I ask my colleagues to imagine how they'd feel if, as adults, they were shipped abroad and thrust into a rigorous, Chinese academic program or Swahili or anything else other than English.

Under the circumstances, I'm amazed how quickly our kids adapt, but that wasn't happening with Cheng, even though the 14-year-old had just been in Singapore for six months.

Earlier this week, I spoke to a veteran administrator who's run schools around the world. He told me the secret for any child to be successful is to find a way for the student to make some sort of connection within the school community. It could be a club or a sport or a study group or any other activity that gives the new student a feeling of belonging.

In this case, the teacher assigned to work individually with Cheng just happens to be American, and Cheng just happens to love everything about America. During our second meeting, he asked me how much the newly-released iPhone6 would cost in my country. At that point, I knew the battle had already been won.

I'd like to take credit for Cheng's success over these past six months, but really I just fed him a steady diet of American literature, American conversation, and got out of the way, allowing the brain to work its magic.

And so last week I found myself sitting with Cheng in front of his geography class, waiting to listen to him talk about a deadly earthquake he lived through years ago in China that killed 70,000 people and left five million homeless. I decided to interview him to reduce the pressure.

The 7th grader, who had arrived 10 months earlier speaking little to no English, now held the floor and held his classmates spellbound as he described his ordeal in almost flawless English.

Teaching isn't a financially lucrative profession, but I can't imagine any greater reward than watching a child, who I fear might not have lasted much longer in Singapore, excelling at the highest level.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Summer

I can't help but feel Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole are mocking me.

In Singapore, there's no need to dream about a white Christmas with daily high temperatures at or approaching 90 degrees, and who in his right mind would roast chestnuts on an open fire in such extreme humidity.

It's Christmas in the tropics.

From all external appearances, it's like any other holiday season,

                                              but look a little closer.

The North Pole doesn't have this kind of foliage in November, and you'd never catch Santa's elves jogging in shorts and t-shirts.

Normally, this stretch from November to New Year's is my favorite part of the year, but it's hard to generate much excitement this year because I'd probably break out in a sweat.  Last month, I walked into my apartment building, spotted my first Christmas tree in Singapore, and almost cried.

It was a reminder to me of the enormous power and influence of our imprinting. Singapore doesn't conform to my image of Christmas, so I'm left despondent, although Singaporeans seem to easily look past the heat and humidity. It's the same reality, but I perceive it quite differently.

My time in Singapore has been a wonderful experience, but it's yet another example of why living overseas isn't always easy and the acclimation process doesn't happen overnight.

So, for those tired of the cold snap back in America, remember, it could be worse. You could be in danger of suffering a heat stroke on Christmas Day.

The House Hunters International Sham

I missed my shot at reality-TV fame.

I could have appeared on the nationally-televised program House Hunters International. I could have been the envy of my friends. I could have earned $1,500 for my efforts, but I had to say no.

HHI features the stories of people looking to rent or buy residences after relocating abroad. The formula is simple  — the new arrivals view three properties with a real estate agent and choose one. It's addictive, but as I learned firsthand, it's also fake.

Before moving to Singapore, I sent a letter to the show at the HGTV network in America, hoping to take the three-property challenge. I never heard back, found an apartment, and forgot about it, until this week when I received an email from a casting producer, wondering if I'd still be interested in applying for the program.

I wrote back, explaining that I couldn't because I'd located an apartment four months earlier. The next day, the producer, Joe Pinzone, asked me to call him so he could "better explain" the show to me.

In our conversation, Pinzone outlined how HHI would film my story. First, he said the show would shoot "pretend" video of me saying goodbye to my family, as well as "pretend" video of my arrival in Singapore. Finally, he said I would "pretend" to search for an apartment but obviously "pick yours” out of the three I'd see.

In other words, I would go through the ruse of looking for a place to live, although I already have one, and then decide I was going to rent the apartment I already occupy.

Of course, there's still the issue of furniture in a supposedly empty apartment. Not a problem. Pinzone said HHI routinely hires professional movers to take everything out of homes before filming and move it back afterward. In my case, since I leased a furnished apartment, I'd just have to hide personal effects, such as family pictures.

"Isn't that dishonest?" I asked. The producer replied, "It's a re-enactment."

I'm not naive. I realize everything isn’t real in reality television, but the only thing factual about what Pinzone was suggesting was that I moved to Singapore.

"Isn’t that fake?" I continued. He said, "It's a past re-enactment. That's how the show works."

Maybe, I'm a bit old-fashioned because all those explanations sounded like euphemisms for lying. I told Pinzone I might consider appearing on House Hunters International only if the show indicated to viewers my story was staged.

The producer laughed, "We can’t tell people it’s a re-enactment."

And so ended my reality-TV career before it ever began.

I've discovered my experience is hardly unique.

Back in 2012, a Texas woman featured years earlier on House Hunters, the domestic version of the show, admitted she pretended to look for a new house, although her family had already bought one.  Bobi Jensen said the other two properties she and her husband viewed actually belonged to friends and weren't really for sale. 

Also, in 2012, an expat living in Taiwan said he participated in a phony search for House Hunters International. Again, a friend helped out by posing as a real estate agent, since the crew couldn't locate an authentic agent who spoke enough English, according to Matt Gibson, who appeared in the episode.

Gibson wrote on his blog that the hoax wasn't a big deal. "House Hunters International is fake. So what? It's not journalism. It's entertainment," he said.

I couldn't disagree more. It might be argued that it's justifiable to recreate a couple of peripheral scenes, but the premise of the show is that new arrivals are looking for places to live. That's clearly not the case.

A lie is still a lie, even if it does appear on reality television. I guess my 15 minutes of fame will have to wait until another day.