Purple Passion

Welcome to the kinder way to learn.

I've been writing for a few years, but my primary occupation is teaching.

Specifically I'm an English teacher.

On December 14,1997 my life changed. I married a very beautiful woman named Emily.

What have I written?

My writing has run the gamut of interviews, feature pieces, reviews and a number of short stories.
The project nearest to my heart is the unfinished science-fiction novel that I've lived with, struggled with and nursed numerous wounds,real and imagined,with.
I'll unveil the work in progress here.
So visit, read, and ask questions.

I invite you to join a traveler on a quest through time and space and that distant corner of reality, the human soul.

Purple Passion:
News from a man with purple hair

Last friday Emily and I went to the movies with the kids. We saw Deep Impact. On Saturday we went again, with Emily's sister and her mother.

Emily and I saw Phantoms, and her mother and sister saw Deep Impact.Phantoms is a decent mix of horror,sci-fi, and suspense. It was good to see Peter O'toole in a movie again.

So I suppose your wondering about the purple hair. The incident has its origins in a rather sad story.

Last week one of our dogs was suddenly sick. Our smallest dog, Sasa,was poisoned. We're still not sure how. The indiscriminant and rampant use of pesticides is a constant concern. We woke up early in the morning because she was yelping. She was in really bad shape. We were able to force milk into her, and the vet came and gave her a vitamin injection. She stabilized, but we kept our eyes and our minds on her all day.

During the afternoon we had a respite from the stress. Emily wanted to get her mind off things, so she decided to cut my hair. Emily is trained as a hairstylist and beautician. Fine enough. She'd also decided it was time for some more color. Okay, she's done it before. My hair was in her hands. Previous dye jobs have given me a head of reddish-brown hair.

My hair - her decision, my complete faith.

This time something unusual happened. Either the ingredients were suspect or her mix was less than accurate. I washed the solution out of my hair. I toweled vigorously. I raised my head even with the mirror.

"Emily?, Emily? ... Emily, there's a problem."

"Wayne, what's wro ...oh,OH. I'm sorry honey."

"Emily, I love you ... but can you fix this? I can not teach like this. My students are not mature enough to accept a teacher with purple hair."

Eventually, after two more colors, and four shampooings, the hair was rendered a more neutral color. There are no pictures of this occurrence,but witnesses were reportedly shocked and amused.

We now have a re-touched photo to illustrate this event.

I had to teach. The student's reaction to my hair, which still has a purple color, was expected and personally traumatic. I weathered the storm.

The situation at home was not so easy to cope with.

Sasa, the puppy, suffered a relapse. Her breathing became shallow, her heartbeat was erratic, and she was vomiting. We had Sasa looked at by two more doctors, but in the end she died in my daughter's arms.

The kids, Grace and Adryan, were shook up, as was Emily. I had to hide out in the room. I've never been comfortable expressing grief in front of others.

On Saturday we went into the mountains for three days. The planned trip to Bali never happened. We had a hell of a time arranging a room. The Australians and Europeans were taking advantage of the exchange rates.

The foreign presence drives up prices, and eliminates vacancies for hotels and flights. We finally found a hotel. Then we needed to arrange a van. On Thursday we were able to get a van.

The plan was to drive to Banyuwangi. We would then take the ferry to Denpasar. We would then drive to Kuta Beach. Kuta is the happening place,ya know.

The Balinese closed their ports.

We decided to go to Tretes. We stayed at the Surya Resort. It was great to be outside of Surabaya. It was my first trip to Tretes. We went to Skydisc.

Grace, Emily and I danced. I did manage to get Adryan drunk. He seems to think the only good beer pitcher is an empty beer pitcher. He might have a future as an English teacher. Hey, it's cool ... it was his birthday. This was the first time he's been drunk and he survived without a hangover. My penance came on Sunday. My brother-in-law had decided it was time to see me drunk. I turned green after the second beer, and had to quickly exit to save face and my brother-law's shoes.

I had a massage in the hotel's fitness area.

Tretes is cool. There are very few mosquitos, and the pool is heated. I rented a pony and rode around the town. I had planned to be out a bit longer, but apparently the sight of a purple-haired Bule(foreigner)was a bit much for the locals. They couldn't stop walking in front of the pony and touching my legs. I know I'm cute, but it was a bit too much appreciation.

We returned to Surabaya, and the business a few days ago. Amazing how the stress comes back so quick.

UPDATES

I hope things are going well for you.

We're doing okay here.

This is basically an update.

How's work?

Here, things are going well. The business is beginning to grow.

I thought I'd better drop you a short note and say hi.

How is everything?

Except for a couple of riots, Surabaya, at least, has been quiet.

On Monday, Tuesday, and especially during Habibie's visit on Wednesday,traffic was nuts. Most of the so-called rioting was done by high school students. The action consisted of stone throwing, jumping into and out of trucks, running in the street and shouting obscenities at the passing army convoys. Basically it was a field trip for students in the Stupidity 101 program.

Autumn
I was just remembering how beautiful a Canadian autumn can be.

I look forward to rediscovering the colors and smells of a September morning. I've told Emily, the kids and my students about the long walks. How difficult to communicate the long moments spent admiring the golds, reds greens and browns. To feel the last warmth of the year on your face. To stare unashamedly into clear autumn skies. To breath deep of the cooling breeze. To taste greedily of the clean air. How to explain looking up at the sky and knowing that this brief, transitory experience has to be embraced and then tucked safely away as winter's approach is heralded in the ever-darkening skies.

I've been keeping up on some important news from home.

My brother's wife just had a baby boy.
His name is Taylor.

As far as seeing my first nephew, it looks as if it won't happen for awhile. We're looking at March at the earliest. We could be coming as late as September. Emily may be going to Hong Kong in a couple of weeks. We're hoping to make some new contacts. I'll keep you posted. I've actually gained an incredibly large family here. Our niece Yay Jen had a birthday last night. I was working late, so I missed the party. This happens a bit too often, unfortunately. I either miss things, or show up late and overdressed. Men here generally favor Batik dress shirts. Batik is a tasteful Hawaiian shirt. Is tasteful stretching the point?

Pet Peeves

I have yet to 'go native'. When I go to a wedding, funeral or to work, I wear a tie. I do not wear sandals, and I still don't smoke. Having been the only abstainer in a family of chain-smokers you can imagine what I feel about this delightful pastime. I awoke at 4:00am with a major sinus headache. Emily spent two hours wrapping my face with hot towels. This helped a lot. We waited until 9:00am and made our way to Adi Husada. Loosely translated as Hussein's house of Apathetic Sadism. I tolerated the hours-long wait. I tolerated the idiot questions. I tolerated the two-hour wait for results. Then my patience paid off. I was afforded the wondrous opportunity to witness a crowd of these caring souls gathering around a little old lady on a stretcher, and lighting up. There must have been eight or nine of these knights in shining ignorance. Well, I lost it. Whether it was the elegant way I enunciated the F word or my suggestions of their doubtful parentage, the crowd dispersed. Emily was not impressed.
She's right.
I don't like it, but she's right.
I now reserve my anger, albeit subdued, for the guitar carrying miscreants who assemble at our gate. It's bad enough on the street, but they've gone too far when they come to my home. One of the buggers had the nerve to ring the bell the other night. The servants also know not to give money to anyone at the door.
This has been my rant for the day.

I've just signed to teach a few extra hours at one of the ritziest schools in Indonesia. It's smack dab in the middle of one of the swankest housing developments you could imagine. Do you know about Ciputraland? This place looks like the set of vintage Miami Vice. Pastel colors,and beach house motifs abound.

You throw in a couple of Batik shirts and Don Johnson or Tom Selleck would feel right at home.
The school has facilities that I have rarely seen in Canada. Large classrooms, air-conditioning, well-stocked libraries, a video library, a computer lab, an art room, a large cafeteria, a wealth of teaching materials, and most surprisingly ... a playground.
This is a culture that treats physical exertion as a strange phenomenon.
Ice-skating is still amazingly popular here. You'd be shocked how good some of the kids are. The one big problem with being on the ice with them; is their complete lack of awareness. In the middle of a group someone will kick out, do a spin or rush in for the sole purpose of stopping suddenly and causing a spray of ice. I enjoy skating. I avail myself of the opportunity whenever Emily and her sisters decide to shop. We arrive at the mall together; they shop, I skate, and then we have lunch. Saturdays are mall days. They window-shop, I skate, we see a movie, then we eat.

I'll write more later.

My company is having an Anniversary bash, and I've been suckered into the MC position. I think I need my sleep.

I'm trying hard to be more Zen ... whatever the heck that means. It occasionally works. I haven't been bit, scratched or swore at by any of my students. Taxi drivers do, on occasion, swear at me. It's amazing how selectively some people learn a language.

The Post Office

The regular postal service is a nightmare here. We visited the central post office in hopes of tracking some missing mail, both coming and going, but we ended up almost as lost as the mail. Hundreds of people, thousands of letters, and none of it in any obvious order.

I had letters all ready to mail to family and friends,and I wanted to track some mail that had gone missing.
Against Emily's good advice I visited the central post office.
Imagine a large barn that someone has made a half-hearted attempt to turn into an office.

As I enter this space I am dumbstruck by the sight before me. Large canvas bags were piled haphazardly on the floor. Some opened, some not. Envelopes,large and small packages and other assorted mail spilled out onto the floor. Around this unattended dump site were a number of offices.

Having no signs to follow we entered the office nearest us.
Seven people sit around a long wooden table. A few are holding envelopes. They hold them in the way one might hold an alien artifact. They are examining the artifacts, not reading the strange inscriptions. They work with a reference for detail and an energy that you only see when really strong cough medicine has been ingested.
One begins to suspect that mail is not being checked for addresses. Draw your own conclusions here.
Emily asks if they can help us locate the missing mail. We are sent to another office. This new office is much the same. The process is repeated until we have visited seven offices in the barn.
All the offices are staffed by these arcane specialists applying their unique skills to the business of artifact sorting.

We had time, and a bit of patience. We were also possessed by morbid curiosity. How much more special could this experience get?
We entered another building. The process was exact down to the fine details. I swear the canvas bags were dropped in a spot corresponding to the other barn. The Mail was scattered in patterns so exactingly similar you'd swear there was an alien intelligence directing the placement. We were so impressed, we left.

We're okay here. Both the kids are back at school, and Emily and I are too busy ... as usual.

Work is going well. The business has been a bit shaky due to the Rupiah's fluctuations, and also because of Hungry Ghost month in Hong Kong. During august the Chinese have to appease their ancestors with offerings of foods, gifts, and the burning of money ... usually a symbolic representation is used. It's very upsetting to the normal flow of business. The new airport in Hong Kong is also incredibly disorganized.

Well, that's life in Asia. The teaching is going well.

A Past Event

Emily and I just returned from Tretes, a mountain village, a few minutes ago. We were actually at a church retreat. I didn't burst into flames as I entered church property so I suppose my soul is safe for the moment. It was nice. It was quite relaxing. By some miracle of divine intervention, or just dumb luck, the God Squad didn't attempt to lure me into their ranks. Emily has been very understanding about my quiet time. She knows that I believe.
She isn't put off by the fact that I feel no overwhelming need to wave my hands in the air and scream "GOD IS GREAT!"

Personally, I think the big guy knows the score, and flattery ain't gonna help if you screw up.

Work is going well.

I would like to return to doing some design work, but right now, and right here, I can provide for my family by teaching. It's not so bad. I enjoy teaching, and I'm good at it.

How's the gig?

I call home once a month.

We hope to be home by next October.

We just celebrated Year One.

On Saturday, December 19. At 7:00pm. We celebrated our 1st anniversary with a fish and lobster BBQ. Didn't you get your invitation?

It would have been nice to have you there.

Singapore

I was in Singapore for a couple of nights. I'm quite happy to be home. I stayed in a little hotel near Chinatown. Monday was the Hindu festival, Deepavali ... the victory of good over evil. Boy, are they optimistic. Most of the city was as boring as ever. After this last trip, I don't think I'll think of Singapore in quite the same way as I used to. A visit to the noodle house near the hotel quickly dispelled any lingering notions of Singapore's sterility.
The midnight crowd consisted of three very mean looking Chinese men, four intoxicated Indians, and three of the ugliest, toughest looking hookers this side of a biker movie.
I spent most of my time just walking around in Singapore. I hate shopping malls, so Singapore quickly grates on me. It is nice just to pick a direction and stroll for a few hours.

With the current situation here, walking around isn't really advisable. When I first came here, I walked everywhere - and at anytime.
Now we have daylight robberies, and midnight decapitations.
All this for just pennies a day.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch ...

We just went through some minor renovations on the house. Most of the major work had been done at the same time as the rioting. If you can imagine watching coats of white paint being applied, plaster slapped on, and tiles replaced and buffed even as news reports of burning, riots and looting filled the airwaves; you can begin imagine the admixture of shock, anger, fear, fits of lunatic humor, cabin fever and darn fool stubbornness that gripped this household for a few weeks.

Emily's Business

We're exporting crabs right now. We have a small interest in lobster exports as well. Since we only started last January, we still have a lot to learn.
Most business here has a shelf life of a few months. Suppliers have no customer loyalty, and the concept of taking less hasn't sunk into fishermen, exporters or buyers. I sometimes fear I may be party to ecological rape, and economic suicide.

For us it's been a good experience. We made a good profit at the start, and then the bottom fell out of the market. We stopped exporting for a month. Emily's business was on hiatus. We've been up again for a couple of weeks.

My own job goes merrily along. I've just taken a few more hours,for a few more Rupiah. I'm still studying Bahasa Indonesian. It's coming along. It's stressful, but it's a great feeling to be able to throw a phrase together. I'm also better able to explain things to students, and that makes a world of difference. I still avoid speaking anything but English in class, since the students are quite ready and willing to take the cue to waste on hour while you steer them back to English. Everything is a balancing act here.

Traditions

Daily life, family and religion; three shows daily under one roof.

Emily and the kids were Buddhist up until a few years ago. After Emily's father died, she converted. The Christian religion here is probably closest to Baptist. Ain't that a frightening thought. Hey, I'm Catholic. Our idea of faith is a quick confession, three Hail Mary's and call me next Sunday.

The churches here all seem to be of the charismatic variety. Which means, of course, that you've got your shouters, your shakers, your dancers, your prancers, your enthusiastic wavers and your quiet and composed prayers. I'm the quiet, uncomfortable one. I'm the sole practitioner of a splinter religion.

The kids have never had a traditional Christmas dinner. Emily had her first turkey dinner on our honeymoon in Singapore last year. She also saw her first Lion dance. We visited a cultural exposition.

I've made some changes in my life. I've actually attended church a few times. Emily and the kids go every Sunday. I'm trying to adjust, but I have to be honest; traditional Christianity still confuses me. I've also been able to witness the Buddhism that's practiced here. We've attended a few weddings, and a few too many funerals. Emily's Mom, who lives with us, is Buddhist. The adjustment to such a close-knit family has been rewarding, irritating, incredible, frustrating, and ultimately highly recommended.

Emily's two sisters and her brother are also Buddhist. Indonesia's Buddhism is probably as fetish oriented as Korean Buddhism, with its chants, incense and rituals, but it's somehow encouraging to see any culture survive under such adverse conditions. A full blown Buddhist funeral is quite interesting. From the chanting, to the pacing of the maidens(No, I'm not kidding!), to the burning of the house, money, major appliances, cars and servants. These flammable offering are, thankfully, all paper representations.

Although I'm interested in knowing more about everything, unlike other tourists, especially in Bali, I had no wish to intrude on such a personal time. I can only imagine how these gomers would feel if a crowd showed up at ol' Aunt Tilly's sendoff.

"Don't mind us folks, we're just here to soak up the culture." "Could you lift up Aunt Tilly's chin a bit more. Now put this wine glass ..."

And Then ...

We had been hoping to get to Canada at Christmas, but it appears we'll wait until late September,1999.

My teaching schedule keeps expanding, and while that may be good for our bank account it doesn't leave much free time. My wife has just returned from China, and we've been catching up. Between work and family I haven't had much time to even open my mail, much less reply to it. I'm currently dealing with another sinus infection. Emily has been great about preparing hot towels for me. Twenty minutes with those, and I can face the day.

Just so you don't think I've married some weak-willed Geisha, this helping works both ways. I've actually found a way to help Emily with her occasional migraines. I paid close attention to the old woman that gives us massages. I can now give a pretty decent foot massage. This has helped relieve Emily's pain to the point that she can sleep. She only has one or two migraines a month, but I know it hurts like hell.

Things are calm here now.

My friend Chris is also working at Ciputra. He and I have been teaching elementary school classes. Try to picture the two of us surrounded by rabid toddlers. Kind of scary, uh?

I hope Christmas finds you and your family safe and together.

We'll have Christmas dinner at one of the hotels. It's well nigh impossible to find a turkey in a local supermarket, so we have to depend on the International hotels.

We're safe and we hope to enjoy our Christmas in a more or less Traditional manner.