#expat teacher life

[forteania]

Okay so bags are packed and everything is ready for my Germany trip. I’ll be flying out in like 5 hours? First stop Istanbul where I have a like 9 hr layover :/

[infjinthecity]

Teaching At A Chinese Public School

So I work at a relatively prestigious Chinese public school. Without completely doxing myself, some of the most powerful and wealthiest people in the country sent their kids to my school, so I understand that when I talk about my experiences teaching in China, I’m definitely coming from a place of privilege. Not all the schools are like this, and not all the schools have this caliber of kids, but there are some things about my experience here that is universal across the board.

For example, in high school (years 10 – 12) the kids live at the school. Even at less prestigious public schools, this remains true. Parents can opt out and keep their kids at home if they want to, but most don’t. It seems to serve a dual purpose: the kids are scheduled into classes from 7.30am until 9.00pm at night, therefore maxing out on their learning time, and the parents are free to work as much as possible, ensuring the productivity of the country. I’m not quite sure how I feel about it yet. The kids seem to like and accept it enough and don’t complain about it at all, but maybe that’s just because it’s the expected norm in the country. I will say this: of my students who don’t live in the dorms, and I do have a couple, those particular students tend to have more personality than their counterparts.

Another universal is that school in China is utterly cut-throat and competitive. When it comes to actually enrolling in a high school, all students are required to sit an entrance exam. Your score on that exam determines the kind of high school that you can go to, or whether you can go at all. Obviously, the score to get into my public school is exceptionally high, so I have some of the smartest kids in China walking around my campus. But for kids that don’t do so well on the high school entrance exam, their future is pretty much determined for them at a young age. Kids who don’t do well on those exams end up going to schools that take them out of the running to sit the Gaokao (which is the college entrance exam) and there isn’t a chance for them in the future to go to university. One of my students told me a story this week that his 15-year-old cousin didn’t pass the high school entrance exam at all. When I asked what he’s doing now, my student said that he ran away from home, stole his parent’s car, and is off not attending any school because he couldn’t get into one. He’s basically running around the country getting himself into mess. So yeah folks, that kind of stuff does happen in China too.

I work at the international center at my school. There are a few thousand kids that attend my school, and about 400 of them go to our center. We’re kind of like a school within the school. Our classes are all in English, and our students are all attending university abroad, unlike the other kids they share the dorms with, who are all sitting the Gaokao and will be competing for the elite positions at universities in China. This is another huge decision that kids and families make from an early age. If a student opts into the international center, they immediately take themselves out of the running to sit the Gaokao. That means, despite the fact that they’re Chinese nationals, they cannot go to university in China. And once that decision is made, as soon as high school starts for them, they cannot undo that decision. However, if a student starts on the path of the Gaokao exam, but changes their mind half way through high school, they can then opt into the international center and switch curriculums. They just can’t do it the other way around. So, my kids are all going to university overseas, and some of them will go to the most prestigious universities overseas as well. I currently have a student sitting in my year 10 class that is Oxford bound. Oxford takes only one Chinese international student a year, apparently. Just one from the whole country, and she’s suposedly in the running so we’re all rallying around her to make sure she has the most competitive edge possible.

Obviously, the families that I’m working with have money. You have to, in order to be able to go through the international system. Sending your kid abroad to study is extremely expensive so that means that the kids I’m working with are definitely among the very privileged in the country. It doesn’t matter how smart you are, if your parents don’t have loads of cash, then your only option is to go through the Chinese system, take the Gaokao and stay in China. Which is also a good option. China’s university system has come leaps and bounds and now, apparently, seven of the top ten science programs in the world are here in China. The only problem is, the Gaokao exam is so incredibly difficult and competitive that it’s making the kids mentally ill. China’s youth suicide rate is pretty shocking at the moment and it’s because of this exam the pressure put on the kids.

Not so fun fact: the windows at our school don’t open more than a handspan wide. When I asked why, I was told it’s a preventative measure to stop the kids from jumping. Which – my god. It’s a lot to take in.

As I sent all my kids home from the dorms yesterday and waved them into Golden week (a national holiday to celebrate the unification of the People’s Republic of China) they all told me their parents have scheduled them into private tutoring sessions all week, so they wont be resting and they won’t be playing video games or having fun. They’ll be doing school away from school. I hope they at least get to eat some great food, sleep in their own rooms and in their own beds, and get doted on by their parents. They work so hard and they deserve it.

Till next time, peace.

[pascal-et-sarah]

Un, deux…

Un, deux…

Est-ce qu’il y a quelqu’un?

J’avoue je n’ai pas mis à jour ce truc depuis fin 2013. Comme le temps passe.

Bref si vous êtes fan d’un parigot à Séoul (coucou papa, maman 👋) vous adorerez notre nouvelle production (à 4 mains cette fois-ci), deux parisiens à Hanoï.

On va essayer de partager avec vous une partie de notre toute nouvelle vie au Vietnam. Peut être que ça n’aura aucun intérêt peut être que ça sera marrant. On va bien voir.

Bises.

P&S

ps: départ prévu pour le 31 août 2022 ✈️ 🇻🇳 👩‍🏫

[armandsdivorcelawyer]

@yekkes

Oh my god so glad you asked!!! There are many different types of Expat in Korea:

FB Rant Woman is who I’d classify as “First Time Minority.” There are many of these. They’re white people that usually believe that they now understand systemic oppression because they’re now a minority group in Korea and xenophobia exists. Probably doesn’t believe that they have white privilege in Korea.

Will say anything seemingly negative that happens to them is racism. Korean person not interested in having a serious relationship with expats that will most likely leave the country in the next 1-2 years? Racism. Korean person doesn’t understand their accent when they speak Korean (their pronunciation sucks)? Racism. It’s all racism. They understand now. Don’t you see, American Person of Color? Here, we’re the same 🫶🏽

Other types of expats are:

The Koreaboo

They love KPop and K-dramas and moved to Korea to find their oppar. This expat either has a Korean boyfriend who is an ugly loser or is attractive and clearly not taking the relationship as seriously as she is, or a revolving cast of Korean boyfriends that changes so fast you never can actually learn their names. You would warn her that most men looking to date foreign women are only really looking for casual relationships, but she’s insufferable so you don’t bother.

If she sees you on the street when she’s with her boyfriend, she’s going to glare at you even though he looks like a foot and is chronically unemployed. In her mind, you want him. And that’s all that matters.

She’s an English teacher, but she really doesn’t care about her job. Has an annoying social media presence with titles like “My KOREAN BOYFRIEND tries NEW YORK PIZZA for the FIRST TIME!!”

She posts on the FB groups about how her boyfriend won’t introduce her to his family. People try to tell her that, culturally, people in Korea don’t introduce partners unless they’re engaged and about to get married. She doesn’t get it.

The Loser Back Home

This person is usually a white man who for some reason could not cash into his white male privilege in his country of origin, so he came to Korea expecting Korean women to throw coochie at him simply because he’s white. The LBH fetishizes Korean women, and loathes non-Korean woman. He’s also insufferable.

Also an English teacher, not good at his job. Has lived in Korea for 10+ years and speaks little to no Korean. Sometimes has a Korean wife that you pray divorces him eventually. He usually relies on her to do everything because he refuses to learn Korean.

The “Why are You Still Here?”

This person has also lived in Korea for 10+ years and they HATE the country. They don’t like the food, the people, their jobs, the culture, everything. Chronically miserable.

You ask them why they’re still here, and they never have a straight answer. It’s implicitly understood that they’ve been living in Korea for most of their adult life, and don’t know what they’d do if they left. If they do leave, they’re going to a nearby country (probably Japan or China) to start the process all over again.

The College Student

This person is studying abroad for a semester. Commonly seen in Hongdae clubs. They’re 19 and they can drink legally in Korea and it’s about to be everyone’s problem!

This group has overlap with the Koreaboo.

The Military Man

This person is a man in the US military. He’s either looking to get married to someone after knowing them for 5 business days, or is cheating on their wife with whom they share 3 children (with one on the way!) Swears he gets tested regularly, but will give you an STI. If he’s been in Korea for years, he probably ended up on The Black Book fb group to warn women to not interact with him. (TBB got shut down because other women started leaking the information to the men listed in it, and they threatened to sue the moderators. RIP TBB you saved many a life.)

This person is reviled by everyone in the country, expats included, because he is a menace. He and his friends terrorize the innocent citizens of whatever poor city their base is closest to. Avoid at all costs.

The Traveler

This person hasn’t lived in their country of origin for years, and has mostly been jumping from country to country for adventure! They live in Korea because 1. It’s a nice place to live., 2. Relatively low cost of living, and 3. Close to other countries. A holiday is coming up? They’re going to Thailand. They got vacation days? They’re spending it in Vietnam.

Either very chill and interesting, or insufferable.

And finally; The Running Away from Something. (That’s me!!)

This person is living in Korea because for some reason they do not want to be in their country of origin.

Shitty family? It’s hard to keep in contact with a 12 hour time difference. Don’t know what they’re gonna do with their life? English teaching in Korea is a good gap year job to let you save and figure your shit out. Mentally ill? Oh you stupid bitch. Go make that appointment at the Itaewon International Clinic. DO IT NOW.

Is either staying 1-2 years, or ends up living there forever. No in between.

[xo-lesserafim]

FALLING FOR YOUR SMILE AND EYES

EPISODE 5. TBH

authors note: Enjoy episode 5! And if you want reas my new oneshot/ fanific, “the eventful night.” Anyway enjoy!

Bold: Korean.

Italics: Over the phone.

Both: Korean and over the phone.

Back to masterlist.

Yesterday, I helped Kitty move in, but thank God she didn’t have a lot of stuff.

As I went to the bathroom to do my skincare, a someone had beat me there.

“Get out, I need to do my skincare.” I said.

“No, go to another bathroom puppy.” Min ho said.

“Um, yea, no thanks boo.”

“Whatever, anyway I finished.” He said.

“Bye boo.” I said.

On the way there I was talking and waking with Kitty and Q.

“Don’t worry, okay?” Q said.

“I’m sure you and Dae will figure out how to be cohabiting exes.”

“Or not.” Kitty said.

“But let just stop talking about Dae.”

“But kitty, weren’t you the one who brought him?” I said.

“Whatever.”

“But look.” Kitty says, shoeing something on her phone.

“It says, “We do not release information about private adoptions.”

“Which is at this point, the only thing I can read in Korean, but at least I got Andrea.”

“Ugh, can we stop this Alex thing.” Q said.

“Go back to talking about you and Dae.”

“It’s not an Alex thing.” Kitty said.

“I know in my gut that Alex is our brother.”

“Okay,” Q said.

“Or we think, at least.” I said.

“But maybe you should talk to your guys for-sure siblings about this.” Q said.

“Yea, we want to, but we can’t.” I said.

“Not yet, Alexa needs to know first,” Kitty said.

“Also, there’s chance that we are not right.” I said.

“Just ask him. Rip the band-aid off.” Q said.

“Most of the school will be gone for Chuseok, anyway so this is the perfect weekeend to corner him.” Q said.

“Sure, and say what exactly?” Kitty asked.

“You’ll figure it out. Q said.

“And, we’re late.”

“RUN!” I said.

“Chuseok is the Korean Celebration of the good harvest.” Principal Lim said.

“And as a time to thank our ancestors for bringing us prosperity,” She says as Kitty and I walk in.

“and to pay respect for those we have lost.”

“We do that, by going home. It is a very special holiday in our house, because family is the most precious thing in the world.”

And we don’t take it for granted.”

“Enjoy your break, everyone, have a great Chuseok.” She finishes.

“Thank you.” Everyone says.

“Kitty, it’s actually like Thanksgiving in America.” I said.

“Yea, minus the genocide.” Yuri says.

“You go home, eat your ass off, and argue with your relatives.”

“We don’t have any relatives here.” Kitty said.

“Maybe you guys should use the time to study.” Professor Lee said.

“We have been studying.” Kitty says.

“Really?” He asked, showing that Kitty got F and got an A.

“Your aggressive perkinesses may have charmed the American teachers into giving you good grades, but here, you’ll need to put in more work.” Professor alee says.

“And Andrea, nice job.”

“Uh, thank you?” I say.

“How did you even get an A?” Kitty asked as we go to our next class.”

“I dont know, hard work?” I say.

“Eyes on the road, Kitty and Andrea!” Professor alee says.

“Happy Chuseok! Chuseok?”

“Chuseok.” I say.

“Yea that, how’s it going.”

“Bad,” “Good,” We say at the same time.

“Bad, bad, and bad.” Kitty say.

“I failed my Lit test.”

“I have never gotten an A- in my entire life.”

“I’ve failed at many things in my life.” he says.

“I’ve failed my drivers test, i failed a philosophy test, i failed a drug test.”

“Just kidsing.”

“Failing is apart of learning.”

“You’re gonna be okay.”

“Thanks, do you have anyone plans for Chuseok?” Kitty asked.

“No, no family in Seoul.” He says.

“Yea, us too.” I say.

“We should have dinner!” I say.

“I mean, you should come to the dinner, that we are planning on campus.,” I say.

“For uhh, expats, yea expats.” Kitty says giving me a confused look.

“Like a Friendsgiving.” We say.

“Oh, sweet I’ll for sure be there.” A dude says.

“He’s gonna be there. Cool!” I say.

“Kitty you may have failed this, but you guys just aced being good people.” Professor Finnerty says.

“Thinking of others who have nowhere to go, cooking a massive feast..”

“Cooking.” Kitty says.

“Okay,” I said.

TIME SKIP : AFTER SCHOOL

As we went to the grocery store shopping, “Ugh there’s more than one type of soy sauce.” Kitty says.

“What’s a good brand Andrea, I mean you did the cooking.”

“I like this one, I say picking the most popular one I know.

“You’re seriously everywhere.” Min ho says.

“You guys like my every own sasaeng.”

“Uh, what’s a sasaeng?” Kitty asked.

“It means that we’re like his very own obsessed fan or fans I should say.” I told Kitty.

“What are even doing in a grocery store, Min ho?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t you been on a yacht being rich snd annoying?”

“Hm, my dad is doing that with wife #3 with her new fillers.” Min ho says.

“I have decided to stay here as a favor to all the women who want me piece of me for Chuseok.”

“So.. why are you here?”I ask.

“Whatever Puppy.”

“Strawberries and Chocolate? I’m going to be sick.” I say.

“I’m sure Lulu will appreciate this.” He says.

“Who’s Lulu? Another one of your Min-hoes?” I say.

“Cute. She’s only the fastest rising pop in the country.” He says showing us a picture of her.

“Huh?” We say.

“We’ve been flirting since her trainee days.” She’s on break from tour for the holidays.”

“Even K-pop stops for Chuseok.”

“Okay..” Kitty says.

“Do you even know what to do with this?” Min ho asks taking something out of the cart.

“Hey, I am admittedly entering a new territory, but with the help of TikTok, Andrea, and a positive attitude, I’ll manage just fine,” Kitty says.

“Plus, I’m doing most of the cooking.” I say.

“I got cooking lessons when I took Korean lessons, when I was younger .”

“Plus, if I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve won awards for my mashed potatoes.” Kitty says as she moves the cart.

“No,no, no. As a Korean national, I cannot in good conscience let you guys desecrate my native cuisine like this.” Min ho says.

“Hey what?” Kitty and I say as Min ho takes the cart.

“Do you want to poison your classmates, or do you want my help?” He asked.

“Fine, but I’m making my kimchi.” I say.

“And I still making my mashed potatoes.” Kitty said.

“I have an entire system.” Kitty says as Min ho scoffs.

“Don’t mess it up!”

“Just follow me.” Min ho says.

I woke up early to start cooking, when I notice Min ho was already cooking.

“You’re are angelic in the morning.” He says.

“Thanks, I know I look good.” I say.

“Where’s Kitty?” He asked

“Still sleeping.” I say.

“Why are you up this early?”

“To finish my kimchi I made yesterday?” I said.

“Oh okay.” He said.

“Who’s this from?” I say looking at baskets of gifts.

“My mother, gifts are my love language.”

“Make sense.”

“Mm-hm.”

“No way, you have Peppero?” I say almost touching it.

“She sent it from Los Angelos since she couldn’t be here .” He said slapping my hand.

“We usually spend Chuseok together.”

“That sucks, does that mean she’ll be alone?” I ask as I started to finish my kimchi from yesterday.

“No, John Cho is having a thing.” He replied back.

“Oh,’Lulu about time.”

“Dont touch anything! Got a method.”

“Okay, boss baby.” I say.

“Y’know, you are the last person that I would have expect to know how to cook.” I say.

“Or do anything remotely helpful, y’know.”

“There are these teeny tiny microscopic moments like these why I can see why Dae is friends with you. There’s an actual person in here.” I say.

“Don’t try to get me on your good side, I’m famously anti- kitty and anti-Andrea.” Min ho said.

“Wah, I’m going to cry my head off .” I say sarcastically.

“And , no matter how hard Dae tries to sway me.”

“Well, have you heard from him today? Is he okay?” I ask.

“Chuseok, family, and ancestor stuff.”

“No, I haven’t. It’s definitely a difficult holiday for him.” Min ho said.

“Yeah,” I say.

“And, you?” He asked.

“Me, huh and what?” I say back.

“You must be thinking about your mom too. A lot thus week.” He says.

“Yeah, I am. But in a good way. I can feel her all around me, plus she was the reason I came here.”

“Thank you Min ho.” I said smiling

“You’re welcome.” He said back.

“Okay, I mean I feel bad for Kitty and all, but why does Dae matter? He is just a boy.” I say.

“Excuse me?” Min ho said.

“I just wished they could make up or something.”

“They could give each others gift, I mean also pass me the gochugaru.” He says.

As I finished making my kimchi, Min ho was texting his phone.

“ Confirmed, Lulu will be at the premises at 8 pm.” Min ho says.

“I’m sure she will greatly enjoy the chocolates” I say.

“The chocolates was actually for someone else.” He says.

“Hey, don’t judge.” He says. “Not all people needed to be star-crossed lover to be compatible.”

“Like, hot people for example.”

“So not you?” I asked.

“Whatever.”

“But we can and want to play the field.” Minho said.

“That’s because you haven’t found your perfect match.” I say.

“I’ve found many, many matches.”

“I’m just saying, I’ve seen the magic when people find the one.” I say.

“Mm-hm.” He says.

“It’s true!” I say.

“My parents both thought they found the one. They were the “IT�� couple. “Beautiful, young starlet. “Chaebol heir.”

“Their tabloids literally called them the perfect match.” Look at them know.”

“I’m sorry.” I say.

“Here, try. some of this, maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

“Mm.” He says.

“It must be weird having people know all about your family.” I say.

“They think they know, but don’t really.” That’s my point.”

“There’s really only one thing that matters at the end of the day.”

“And that is?” I say.

“The truth.” He replied.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I say.

“Finally some appreciation.” He says.

“Hey! Be grateful I’m like this right now.” I say.

“Good morning Andrea! And Min ho?” Kitty says.

“Omg! Peppero.”

“Kitty, don’t touch it. Min ho wouldn’t let anyone touch it.” I say.

TIME SKIP: CHINGUSEOK

After the toast and what not, I decided to get some fresh air.

“Kitty, I’m going to get fresh air.”

“All right stay safe.”

As I was outside, I was just walking around as I bumped into a lady.

“Oh my gosh I’m sorry.” I say.

“It’s fine dear. I’m Jenny Song. I’m looking for Andrea Song Covey. She my cousin. Her visual would be perfect for my modeling company!” Jenny said.

“My name is Andrea Song Covey.. and I’m willing to maybe join. I don’t know.” I say.

“ That fine, here.” She said giving me a card.

“Give me a call or text if you need anything.”

“Will do, thanks.”

As I was walking back , someone called for me.

“ANDREA!” Min ho said.

“What the hell did Kitty put in those potatoes ?” He asker.

“Uhh, a lot of lactose. Like Milk and cheese..”

“Awh, Poopy Baby, looks here cute here.” I said sarcastically.

“Shut up.” He said.

“That’s Lulu. You have to get rid of her. She can’t see me like this. If her fans find out. I’m done for. ”

“And what will I get in return?” I ask

“Just do it, you owe me remember Covey.”

“Whatever.” I said walking up to the car.

“Minny! I’m here!” Lulu said.

“Uhh, who are you?” I asked.

“Min ho’s date. Why?” She asked.

“Oh, your his date? Well, actually He was my date tho.”

“I mean we’ve been flirting since I was in highschool.”

“That jerk double-booked me.”

“Well, I mean you think you could keep him to yourself? hm?” I said.

“ He’s he hottest guy in school, and those abs and muscles are to die for.”

“I mean he is so sexy, and his voice just- never mind.”

“Let’s jusy say he’s ruined me. For others boys . and men.”

“That’s intriguing, right?”

“But I refuse to be sloppy- seconds.” Lulu said.

“You tell him, I’ll be back at 6:00 tomorrow night. He better clear the rest of his schedule.” She said.

“When he has a night with me, he wont be seeing anyone else after. Okay?”

“Bye Boo!” I yelled as she got into her car and drove away.

“And thats why you do it.” I told Min ho.

“ You’re a genius! I could hug you right now.” He said.

“Please dont. bye!” I said.

“Oh, and by the way. the chocolate was for you.” Min ho said.

“How nice of him.” I thought.

I just decided to go back to my dorm, since I was tired. Today was pretty good.

PREV EPISODE MASTERLIST NEXT EPISODE

TAGLIST: @chaewon-slays @cherrriesss

Copyrights © 2023 xo-lesserafim. All rights reserved. I do not own XO, Kitty , Netflix does. do not copy, translate, or repost anything without my permission.

[a-roguish-gambit]

How's Evan in your au?

Doing ok for the most part. Could be better but he's not feeling god aweful. New York was still fairly racist in 1912 but a far cry from the Jim Crow South.

According to the Tuskegee institute, there's only one reported lynching of a black person from the 1880s-1960s. (That's not to say that racial violence of other sorts didn't happen or that unreported lynchings didn't happen, just shows how compared to the South, where people literally had little festivals around lynchings at times and sent postcards about it, hate crimes were generally looked down upon and well...considered crimes) and he has the added benefit of being from a wealthy family that didn't come from an enslaved background. Because Ororo is a recent expat from egypt canonically, so is his family. They run an import/export transport business to the United States which is why they are living there at all. Granted that makes the racism he sees very very obvious to him compared to how he used to live, but the status helps avoid some of the worst of it by avoiding a lot of the financial barriers that prevented black people from escaping poverty and segregation. Segregation in New York, while there, was more financial barrier focused. A lot of places up north had laws against segregation in schools after the civil war, but segregation was often enforced via redlining and such. Cost of living, job prospects, school funding, etc, ect ect. Jim Crow laws didn't start reaching the north in a big way until after wwI.

So cause he comes from money he's able to attend the same school as his friends. He...is not too fond of the kids there and does not fully trust them. They are harmlessly ignorant at the best of times and he doesn't want to get to know them enough to see them at the worst of times. They have a nasty habit of talking down to him and certainly don't act like he's their equal, despite the fact that he is more well traveled and can speak more languages than any of them. (Evan knows French, Arabic, Swahili ,and English in this AU) So he mostly sticks with the institute kids...who absolutely adore him and will not let anyone give him shit. They will avoid places that do segregate to the best of their abilities (you can only avoid public restrooms so much in an emergency), step up to anyone saying something they don't like to him, and generally have his back no matter what, particularly rogue and gambit, who know exactly how bad treatment of black people can get in America at the time. Rouge has basically adopted him as a second little brother at this point, despite him being only a few months younger than her, and as a result, Kurt has also practically physically attached himself to evan. Gambit and Scott both have a no questions asked ride pass for Evan if he needs to go anywhere, Kitty and Evan have bonded over their own shared struggles, and the teachers especially storm have his back no matter what.

He does have some friends outside the institute he plays baseball and basketball at the YMCA and goes on bike riding trips and has made some friends that way. Life isn't easy but he's finding ways to make the best of it.

Also despite their rivalry, or maybe because of it, as of late he's been seeing Pietro a little bit in private to....have chats with him. Friendly ones. Alone. .... I am a sucker for Rivals to lovers okay.

Just to make sure we're all clear I don't want to try and whitewash history, this was not the average experience for black people, even in New york. They experienced a lot of awful shit. I just really like Evan as a character and know how shitty this time could be for black people so I'm giving him the best opportunities I can given in the period. Because Evan deserves the best and he doesn't get enough love in this fandom as is. If anyone has better historical knowledge and would like to critique me on this, particularly black life in New York state at the time, please feel free to I am open to listening because this is not a subject that I am the most knowledgeable on.

[p1325]

Here's the list of the TV Shows I used:

-The Brothers Sun, Fool Me Once, Abbott Elementary Season 4, All Creatures Great and Small Season 4, The Penguin, Echo Season 1, True Detective: Night Country Season 4, Belgravia: The Next Chapter, Griselda Limited Series, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Shōgun, Bridgerton Season 3, Curb Your Enthusiasm Season 12, House of the Dragon Season 2, The Bear Season 3, Mr Birchum, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power Season 2, Hazbin Hotel, The Perfect Couple, A Good Girl's Guide to Murder, Emily in Paris: Season 4 Part 1, MAYFAIR WITCHES Season 2, The Day of the Jackal, City of God: The Fight Rages On, Kaos, Bad Monkey, Fight Night: The Million Dollar Heist, REASONABLE DOUBT Season 2, Grotesquerie, It's Florida Man, No Good Deed, Agatha All Along, The Listeners, Severance Season 2, Bad Sisters Season 2, Lioness Season 2, Only Murders in the Building Season 4, Arcane Season 2, Sherwoood Season 2, The Creep Tapes, X-Men 97, Mary and George, Supacell -Masters of the Air Limited Series, Expats Limited Series , Feud: Capote vs. The Swans , The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live, The Decameron, The Umbrella Academy Final Season, Time Bandits, The Boys Season 4, Industry, Cobra Kai Season 6, The Jetty, Rivals, Women in Blue, Sunny, Unprisoned Season 2, Those About to Die, The Serpent Queen Season 2, Land of Women, Gangs of Galicia, Presumed Innocent, My Lady Jane, The Famous Five, Cross, Dope Girls, Mr Bigstuff, That's 90s Show Season 2 , Uncle Samisk, Geek Girl, The Acolyte, Insomnia, Clipped, Mayor of Kingstown Season 3, The Big Cigar, Becoming Karl Lagerfeld, The 8 Show, Maxton Hall — The World Between Us, Sweet Tooth Final Season, Get Millie Black, Interior Chinatown, A Man on the Inside, The Sticky, The Disappearance of Kimmy Diore, Mr Loverman, The Sex Lives of College Girls Season 3, The Madness, Eric, American Horror Stories -The Tattooist of Auschwitz, The Big Door Size Season 2, Bodkin, The Sympathizer, Under the Bridge, The Veil, Franklin, Renegade Nell, Families like Ours, Mayfair Witches Season 2, The Empress Season 2, Senna, Like Water for Chocolate, Reacher Season 2 -Ronja the Robber's Daughter Part 1 & 2, We Were the Lucky Ones, Loot Season 2, Sugar, A Gentleman in Moscow, Ripley, Davey & Jonesie's Locker, Say Nothing, Wolf Hall: The Mirror and the Light, The Law According to Lidia Poët Season 2 -Boarders, The Girls on the Bus, Apples Never Fall, Knuckles, Supersex, Life & Beth Season 2, Death and Other Details, THE GOOD DOCTOR Season 7, Boy Swallows Universe, TED The Series, Criminal Record, Fallout, Masters of the Air, The Tourist Season 2, Alexander: The Making of a God, Tokyo Vice Season 2 , Feud: Capote vs. The Swans, The Regime, Expats, Sausage Party: Foodtopia, Breathless, English Teacher, Star Wars: Skeleton Crew, How to Die Alone, Win or Lose, Terminator Zero, Dexter, Like a Dragon: Yakuza, Fantasmas, Citadel: Honey Bunny, Teacup, Slow Horses Season 4, Hysteria, Black Doves, Landman, The Agency, Cruel Intentions, Laid, Lockerbie, S

[scamuel-likely]

Week 3 of writing workshop with @bettsfic & @books

Stories of a place:

The place I wrote about was Rokkō Island in Japan, and the surrounding area where I used to live.

I only used the common facts that anyone could find out.

1. The Rokkō Liner is an automated tram that transports people from the mainland to the manmade Rokkō Island.

2. Kobe was hit by a devastating earthquake in 1995.

3. Rokkō Island was made by taking the top off nearby mountains and compressing them to form new land in the ocean.

Tangled Up In Blue:

The tram snakes its way across a thin stretch of vibrant water, a thousand crystalline waves dance far below its metallic carapace. Inside, it carries precious cargo. The kind of cargo that thrums with the rush of blood and the spark of life, the kind that reads the morning paper and taps away at their cellphones. The tram is a noble beast, and it carries its task of transport out with no direction, no driver at its helm. It’s an entirely automated system, ferrying travellers from the densely packed mainland Sumiyoshi to the equally dense Rokkō Island. A commuter tram for many, as Rokkō Island houses few attractions and the heavy boom and bustle of harbours echo from its shores. This island is a freak of nature. It has been stitched together by the hands of mankind, mountains ripped from the earth and shoved into an orderly rectangular form. A picture perfect piece of the modern industrial world.

The tram, the Rokkō Liner, announces its destination to the passengers in singsong Japanese and again in a similarly musical yet somewhat mechanically clumsy English. Many, many foreigners, live and work on the island. Stacked into towerblocks and gated housing complexes, these expats make their livings in finance, shipping and translation. The early dawn illuminates a sea of suits, Japanese and foreign salarymen shuffling to work. Their faces are lined with stress and their company-issued tie clips shine in the newborn sunlight. One of them trips and falls, his briefcase letting loose a deluge of papers onto the pristine pavement below. He looks up at the sky, a tangle of telephone and electrical wires crisscrossing from granite apartment to granite apartment, and beyond that a vibrant cloudless blue. His suit is scuffed and he’s grazed his palm, but no one stops to help him up. So he’s left to shake himself off and pick himself up, as his spreadsheets and quarterly reports are pulled away by the soft morning breeze. He sighs and that too is snatched away by the wind. His boss isn’t gonna like this one bit.

His boss, the one who requested those quarterly reports to be on his desk by nine am at the latest, is sitting on the Liner reviewing a book his wife recommended to him, on Goodreads. He’s giving the thing, an American book called All The Pretty Horses, five stars. He’d sat down to read it one evening, with a glass of port in one hand and a cigarette in the other. After three refills of port and eleven more cigarettes he was done and, despite his insistence to the contrary, there were tears in his eyes. And tears freely flowed again when he conversed with his wife about the book over breakfast. Something about the book’s message of freedom and hope was inspiring, and made him hark back to the days of his youth. He was once a young revolutionary student who campaigned to end uniforms and for the school to stop getting funding from the nearby American airbase. He used to be a free spirit, used to wear a beret to school and sport Groucho Marx style glasses. Used to quote Karl Marx to teachers and Keats to fellow students. Used to organise film festivals, write in the local newspaper and mitigate street showdowns between young Yakuza members. And then he’d grown up. Life had caught up to him, forced him into a suit and pushed him through the sliding doors of a faceless office building. And he’d lost the joy in his life, crushed by timesheets and shipping mandates.

The review he was writing, on his wife’s account, was full of beautiful prose and cascading metaphors. He unleashed his creative streak, the one the grindstone of society had oppressed, and crafted an excellent essay-like review of McCarthy’s book. While writing this, his mind filled with such raw emotion, he let loose just one more tear. The teenager sitting across from him pretended not to notice him wipe it away with his shirtsleeve, which had been neatly ironed the day before by his wife.

The boss’s wife, an American-Japanese woman who’d grown up in Kobe, had first discovered Cormac McCarthy in a quaint little bookstore tucked away in the shadow of the Kobe Tower. The red light spilling from the tower reflected on the window display, dousing all its contents with an eerie blood-red glow. She’d taken shelter in there, as it was raining something awful and the karaoke bar she’d been at had closed early due to a leak in the roof. It was late at night, she was quite tipsy and in no mood for the noise and light of a train station, so she tapped on the window of this bookstore. It was closed, but light was spilling from a beaded curtain partitioning the shop from its backroom and her hurried and frantic tapping soon altered the owner. He was a man around her age, his eyes were ringed with the telltale dark circles of the sleepless. He wiped a stray eyelash away from his eye with one slender hand as the other fumbled for the door key. She wondered, somewhat drunkenly, if he was single.

He let her in, gave her a cup of green tea, and asked her, in excellent English, “What the hell are you doing dancing around in the street during a typhoon?”

She admitted to being a little drunk, and he gave her a blanket and a book, telling her to rest while he finished up his work for the night.

“Then what?” She enquired, but he clearly hadn’t heard her, as he’d slipped through the beaded curtain into the shop and was busying himself with the shelves.

Having no real other option, she took a sip of the piping hot tea and blearily glanced at the book.

The cover was well-loved, the spine supple and the edges fraying. Emblazoned on its front were the words: No Country For Old Men by Cormac McCarthy.

She took one more sip of tea, and began to read.

Eleven years and a long marriage later, she’d finally recommended the author to her husband. She knew he loved old Clint Eastwood films, and she knew something of his creative side, remembering him writing her elegant haikus when they’d just started dating. They’d been quite distant as of late, with her time mainly spent working from home and his in the office. She knew full well he didn’t do anything of substance, it was all delegation. His boss would tell him something, then he’d repeat it to his own employees, mimicking his boss’s angry demeanour best he could. The stress of his job had been making him snappish and standoffish, so she thought a literary diversion might be just what he needed. And she was right. He openly sobbed into his miso soup when they’d talked about the book at breakfast, the tears mixing with the broth and dissipating like rain into an ocean.

The ocean the tram was crossing was prone to violet outbursts. This was mainly due to the fact Japan sits in between four different tectonic plates, making it prone to earthquakes and tsunamis. One such earthquake had occurred in 1995 and had wreaked Kobe. Water had been forced out of the soil used to build Rokkō Island, causing pavements to crack open as water bubbled onto the surface. The rush of underground water brought with it geysers of sand that burst pavements, tearing down towering red construction cranes and shiny new bridges alike.

The bookseller remembers that earthquake well. His shop had been flooded by a burst sewage pipe, and his parent’s house had collapsed in on itself, a supernova of rubble and debris. He had wandered through the wreckage days after the quake, trying to find anything that remained. Quite a bit of the ground floor walls still remained, jaggedly and abruptly ending at around shoulder height, giving way to a sky still grey from debris dust. His parent’s fridge still stood, remarkably, dented as it was. A lone survivor of the now mostly-unrecognisable kitchen. He swung open its door to find a mush of foodstuffs, mulched up berries, squished meat, crushed pasta, eggshells, juice cartons spilling their contents onto the rubble-strewn cracked wooden floor below. A line of orange juice ran through a contour in the wood and pooled at his shoe. He glanced at his reflection in its vivid bring surface, a colour pop in this grey world, a world still shaking from the events of the past few days.

He looked just the same as he had on that rainy night in the bookstore, only now his hair was being eaten by wisps of silver and his shaded eyes were adorned by wire framed glasses, these two effects combining to make him seem scholarly and intellectual, though doing nothing to aid his never-ending quest for long term companionship. His parents, who had luckily been on holiday in Hokkaido when the quake had struck, had tried to set him with so many women in the past but nothing had ever stuck. He’d gone on a few dates with a girl in university but when her grandfather died she had to move back to Kanazawa. Their relationship slowly fizzled out after that, the fire of passion dying through increasingly rarer and briefer love letters and phone calls. Since then he hadn’t really had much luck with love, even going to a love hotel, just out of sheer desperation, only to find that sex was something he utterly didn’t understand, even when doing it. It was the human element that he fell for.

Take, for example, that woman he’d met when he was working late at the bookshop. Her tipsy little smile as she sipped her tea and opened No Country on her lap. Then the awe and raw excitement that flitted across her face as she read further and further. He had spoke a few more times to her that night, to refill her tea, to answer some basic questions about himself and to ask her where she lived so he could phone her a taxi. Her replies had all been witty and polite, and he’d etched them into his mind, despite her actual appearance fading into the obscurity of his memory, long since tarnished with taxes and neighbours and train times and the pressures of adulthood.

The teen on the tram didn’t want the pressures of adulthood. If adulthood made you cry on your morning commute, like she had seen that salaryman do just moments ago, she wanted no part of it. She was heading onto Rokkō Island to meet her girlfriend for early morning coffee. Her stomach was filled with a buzzing static that built and rose to her throat, making it hard to swallow. Not only had she called into school to tell them a family emergency had come up, which she had never done before, but she’d also slipped from her bedroom window and tiptoed to the train station in the waning night, which she’d also never done before. She was now sitting on the first train out to Rokkō Island, a doughnut in the shape of a lion in her hand. She bit into its adorable face, the soft sugary flesh splitting with the force of her teeth, spraying forth a tsunami of cream filling onto her hand. Another doughnut, this one a plump porcelain-like Hello Kitty face, with a jammy centre, sat in a paper bag on the seat next to her. It was for her girlfriend. The static in her stomach surged at the thought of that. She had a girlfriend. They’d met playing netball, it was a sweltering summers day and the tarmac had felt like lava when her palms had smacked down onto it after she had tripped trying to defend the net. After the ball had rushed through behind her, the girl that had scored, a very pretty girl with shoulder-length brown hair and sparkling eyes, had reached down and helped her up. She was so surprised that this girl, who was far better at sports and probably far more popular than she was, had helped her, instead of hugging a teammate or somesuch celebration. She was even more surprised when that girl cornered her by the changing rooms and gave her a tiny slip of Snoopy-branded notepaper. Etched on it in elegant gel pen was a set of digits. And a heart. They’d spoken over the phone a lot since then, and met for a few whirlwind dates when either school was competing. But now, now they were meeting up not in school hours, bunking to go to a boba & coffee place together. She felt so alive, like someone had lifted up her soul from her body and she was floating freely among the candyfloss clouds that hung in sparse bunches over the horizon. But there was a worry, a deep and suffocating one, that sat squarely in her chest and didn’t budge. It was the anger of doubt, of wondering if she was unnatural, of fearing her parents wouldn’t understand, of having to keep it all a secret. She finished the doughnut and wrung her hands together, her nails digging into her palms, making deep white marks that drowned out the static inside her.

“Miss, are you okay?”

It came from the salaryman. He’d put his phone down and was looking at her with deep concern through his thick-rimmed glasses.

“Yeah, yeah I’m alright.” She managed to stutter, her hands shooting apart and onto her lap.

“That doughnut for someone?” He, rather redundantly, pointed at the bag with the smiling Mr Doughnut mascot on it.

“Urm, yeah, it’s for a friend.” She said, mostly to the gum on the underside of the salaryman’s seat.

“Well I hope they enjoy it,” He smiled at her, a kindly tired smile, “do you read much poetry?”

The question hit her like a freight train. A salaryman asking a teenager about poetry? She was astonished.

“No, no I don’t really, sorry.” She spurted out.

He leaned forward on his knees and with an exclamation of ‘yoisho’ lifted himself out of his chair and motioned to see if he could sit down next to her. She nodded, like a frightened rabbit.

“Well you should,” he said, sitting down, “it can free one’s mind of all sorts of heavy burdens. Can I read you a haiku?”

She was strangely at ease with this stranger, and so mumbled, “Yes, you may”.

He cleaned his throat and read, from memory;

“Even with insects-

Some can sing

Some can’t

It’s an Issa poem,” he said to her, “ and I think it relates to you somewhat. You seem different to others your age. And that’s fine, I was different once. I was a communist! Or I thought I was at least. And look at me now, huh? Another cog in the machine.”

The machine of the tram ground slowly to a halt and the lilting voice of the automated announcer proclaimed they’d reached Rokkō Island. The few passengers flooded out from the train and made their way out of the station. Passengers going from Rokkō to the mainland queued in orderly lines at the side of the tram doors, waiting for everyone to exit before stepping on. It was an intricate and well-executed dance of etiquette and unspoken rules. The salaryman picked up his briefcase, loosened his tie a bit, and walked off towards the shining sliding doors of his office building. The teen half-walked, half-tripped her way to the coffee shop, her brain was alight with hope and happiness, and all the static washed away on the wind.

The wind had carried the man’s papers far far away and so now he sat in his puffy, uncomfortable swivel chair, awaiting his boss’s arrival with a glum look on his face. His cubicle neighbour and best friend, a man with dyed blonde hair and perfect teeth, was consoling him.

“At least he’ll give you saké, he does that with everyone he fires right?” The guy grinned, leaning over the cubicles.

“I’d rather keep my job than have a bottle of saké, if I’m honest.” His mate glumly replied.

“Well bossman isn’t even here yet, maybe he’s been chopped up by the Yakuza, or run over by a car or-“

And in walked their boss, his tie loose around his neck and an odd spring in his step. He smiled, yes, smiled at them as he passed. When the door of his office was shut, the two men looked at eachother, then looked around at the puzzled looks on the faces of every employee in the room.

“What the hell just happened?”

“I think you’re not getting fired. Or maybe we all are.”

Music began to drift from behind the boss’s door. American music. Rather old.

Tangled Up In Blue by Bob Dylan.

[ellieellieoxenfree]

52 weeks, 52 movies: june

you will die at twenty (sudan) — at birth, sakina (islam mubarak) is told that her baby son muzamil (moatesem rashed, as a child, and mustafa shehata, as an adult) is cursed to die on his twentieth birthday. the incident fractures the family, sending his father (talal afifi) away and pushing sakina into an overprotective frenzy.

mm, this was crunchy — up until a point. it comes out swinging as a critique of religious dogmatism, showing how sakina lets her faith dictate how her son interacts, or doesn’t, with the world. muzamil grows up isolated and alienated, trying to find a place among the other children in his village, but his curse and his mother’s strict rules keep him from ever truly belonging. when he does finally coax enough freedom from her to be allowed to study the quran, he’s violently bullied — ‘son of death, let’s play a fun game,’ his schoolmates proclaim, staging a mock funeral for him and stowing him away in a trunk. even his mastery of his studies means nothing. ‘this boy could have been a great scholar, but nothing lasts in this world,’ his teacher says somberly. muzamil is consistently reminded that he’s damned to be nothing more than a tragic figure and a cautionary tale, denied his own humanity from the moment of his birth.

light comes in the forms of sulaiman (mahmoud maysara elsaraj), a former expat who returns to sudan for mysterious reasons and brings untold riches from the world beyond muzamil’s village. muzamil is able to grasp at pieces of agency here — exposed to sulaiman’s stories and film reels, he explores breaking out of the shell his mother created for him, and grasps at forbidden pleasures like romance with a local girl (bunna khalid). a powerful scene comes with the return of his father, who he rejects with a cruel, if accurate, line about sulaiman being like a father to him, which feels justified in the context of his father’s 19-year abandonment. but it’s his father who ultimately also saves him from himself late in the movie, in contrast to sulaiman, whose arc takes an ugly sharp turn that sends the film off the rails. the movie’s third-act dramatics don’t feel in line with the rest of the movie, and muzamil himself feels like he’s shifted into an entirely separate character. there’s a shockingly brutal scene that made my stomach turn, and retroactively ruined much of the goodness that had come before.

the end is inconclusive; a title card suggests this is all an allegory for victims of the sudanese revolution. this makes it harder to parse everything that’s come before and sift through what’s real vs imagined. it makes for uncomfortable viewing; was this a story of one boy’s personal dehumanization, or was he merely a faceless figurehead for thousands or millions of others? if the latter, it gets murky. director amjad abu alala has been appearing to make a powerful case against stripping autonomy and identity throughout the movie, only to suggest in the closing sections that muzamil is nothing more than vapor at all.

it’s a gorgeous film, with handsomely-mounted set pieces that convey the bleak expanse of the sudanese desert, and imagery that lingers in the mind. (sakina, who has no calendar, marks each day of muzamil’s life down on a wall with chalk, until the entire wall is a series of scrawled lines.) but it also isn’t quite sure of itself and what it’s trying to say. in service of being a religious critique, a coming-of-age story, and an allegorical tale, it never quite succeeds as any of them.

the pied piper (czech republic) — the town of hamelin offers a mysterious hooded piper a thousand gold coins to rid them of their rat infestation, only to inadvertently seal their own dooms.

deaf crocodile, those beautiful bastards, did it again with this one. this is a bite-sized masterpiece of stop-motion, live action, and a brief interlude of painted 2-d animation. it’s startlingly beautiful, terrifying for children (although it’s czech, so it probably is viewed in the cradle), and a deliciously creepy indictment of greed. it’s also a technological marvel, with a thousand moving parts in every frame. (watching the gears move alone is wondrous.) hamelin is both hideous — all shades of drab brown, peopled exclusively by petty, greedy skinflints — and stunning, a sort of dollhouse come to life. director jiří barta chose to juxtapose the wooden citizens of the town against real rats, which is incredibly effective in conveying the rats’ outside invader status. the rats burrow and chew and skitter and slither throughout barta’s clockwork town, so adorable in their bright-eyed inquisitiveness that their inevitable deaths are the only ones we actually feel.

the townspeople, on the other hand, have no saving graces. they are nasty, grasping, and brutish, savaging anything good and innocent. barta revels in showing their vile natures, and their bad ends were more than earned. from a technological standpoint, they’re as incredible as the sets around them; as characters, we cheer for their demise.

the story is vicious, tragic, and funny in equal measure. it also clocks in at a mere 53 minutes, telling its story briskly and ducking out before overstaying its welcome (or, more likely, preventing the studio from going bankrupt in its creation). its gloomy, spooky vibes make it a perfect october watch, but really, watching bad things happen to bad people is always in style.

the legend of the stardust brothers (japan) — scouted by a mysterious producer (ozaki kiyohiko), amateur rock star enemies kan (takagi kan) and shingo (kubota shingo) are promised fame and fortune, as long as they agree to perform together as a duo called the stardust brothers.

i first started this movie back in march or so, and made it about ten minutes before my interest waned. i knew it was me and not the movie, but it kept sitting on my plex taunting me and waiting for me to come back and finish it. but it was never the right time, and it felt unfair to force myself to watch it when i knew i wouldn’t give it a fair shake.

and i finally did give it a fair shake in june, which did turn out to be the right time, and the movie rewarded me for my patience by giving me one of the most batshit insane, off-the-wall, incomprehensible, inexplicable experiences possible. it was absolutely fantastic. the story of its production is pure 1980s — a studio album made for a nonexistent movie, picked up by the 22-year-old untested son of tezuka osamu, driven by his dabbling in arthouse shorts, starring his friends, and supplemented by trippy animated sequences from a horror manga artist. it all sounds completely insane, and it is completely insane. its plot is simple on the face of it, but the execution is hilarious, sad, wacky, outrageous, horrifying, and practically every other adjective you can think of. it skewers the music industry mercilessly, but thinking of it as an industry satire would be to exclude all the 900 other things happening in it.

i don’t think the weirdness of this movie can be adequately explained, only witnessed. even the photosets and gifsets don’t quite convey what an oddball experience it is — in part because you really need to hear the music. (spotify is a bastard and doesn’t have the soundtrack on there, at least in america. i just checked.) the whole thing is this riotous explosion of color and noise and music and absolutely insane plot twists. it is the entire neighborhood’s worth of kitchen sinks in under two hours, all gathered around chikada haruo’s earworm melodies.

the founder of third window films, the UK distributor i picked this up from (i tend to have a lot of UK distributors who i have to snag things from for the weirder titles i own), considers this movie his personal favorite of the company’s entire catalog. i remember reading that way back when and thinking, well, i hope it lives up to that reputation once i finally watch it. and i did watch it, and it did live up to that reputation, and i hope that if you ever find yourself three months past first considering watching it for the first time, that you also sit down and have your mind blown the same way i did. join me. join the stardust brothers. let’s take a trip.

sweet thing (usa) — neglected by their alcoholic father and abandoned by their mother, two siblings (lana and nico rockwell) try to find their own way in life.

well, this movie sucked. it sucked long before i found out the dipshit director, alexandre rockwell, just cast his own family (wife and kids) in it, and it sucked a lot more after i found out that he went after critic roger moore and threw a tantrum in his comments section about a mean review. (i cannot express enough how much you should read moore ripping his ass a new one.)

it is poverty porn. it is pointless, unfocused, needless misery with faux-artistic touches, marinating in unsubtle voyeurism and begging noxiously for a love it never earns. i love black-and-white cinematography. this made me hate black-and-white cinematography because rockwell clearly only did it because he thinks he’s an Auteur. one of the characters is named billie, and so she is regularly visited by the ghost of billie holiday, a technique that works about as well as pissing on a power line without consequence. everything in this is reductive. every stereotype you think would be in a movie about poverty-stricken children in a broken home is in there. does their father, adam (will patton), ruin christmas with his alcoholism? you bet he does! does he also traumatize his children through destroying something of theirs? of course! (it’s the old drunken haircut scene. yeehaw.) does their mother, eve (i know. I KNOW.), have a shitty child molester boyfriend? reader, you know the answer. you know the fucking answer. if it can wallow in tiresome bullshit, it does, and it does at length. it is maddening. it is thoroughly unpleasant to watch. it sort of lazily takes stabs at a plot — adam goes to rehab, at which point the kids are saddled with the disinterested eve and her diddler boyfriend — which it then squanders with a no-resolution resolution.

i felt rather dirty watching it. there’s something about a movie that’s so explicitly about childhood misery, with no optimistic payoff, that’s already going to be dicey for some people, but to put your own children into it just feels exploitative and unfeeling. whether the kids have talent (they’re fine. they’re adequate. i didn’t have any strong feelings on them as actors, quite honestly) is irrelevant to the discussion. the entire thing just being a strange masturbatory exercise where rockwell’s wife is a disconnected boozehound and his kids are neglected and unloved stinks all the way down. per his slapfight with moore, he’s exorcising his own childhood demons, which on the face of it isn’t objectionable — plenty of good art is born out of deep-seated pain. but taking his own children into the equation to safely playact his own therapy is objectionable and quite frankly, loathsome. alexandre rockwell is a shithead.

(PS: i hope he sees this and i hope he knows i think he’s a shithead. come create a tumblr and whine about it, fuckstick.)

other viewing

singin’ in the rain* (usa)

you’ll never be alone (chile)

the people next door (1970) (usa)

just good friends s2 (uk)

just good friends s3 (uk)

love on the run (usa)

alex wheatle (uk)

education (uk)

shrinking s1 (usa)

more than two days (qatar)

studio (sudan)

maria chapdelaine (2021) (canada)

dance of the 41 (mexico)

three deaths (usa)

the matrix* (usa)

game changer (thailand)

infinity (china)

intern detective oh kye-on sik (south korea)

a business proposal (south korea)

miyuki (2011) (usa)

blik (netherlands)

hudson (2018) (usa)

street angel (usa)

bad ben (usa)

icebergs (switzerland)

sprung s1 (usa)

show people (usa)

codependent space lesbian seeks same (usa)

breakin’ (usa)

are we lost forever? (sweden)

voyage of the rock aliens (usa)

both he and i are grooms (japan)

the wedding banquet (taiwan)

the last autumn (iceland)

bake me please (thailand)

unprisoned s1 (usa)

love child s1 (australia)

love child s2 (australia)

the binding of itzik (usa)

history of the world part I (usa)*

[rhetoricandlogic]

BUILD YOUR HOUSE AROUND MY BODY

by Violet Kupersmith

RELEASE DATE: July 6, 2021

wide-ranging first novel that peels back the layers of a haunted Vietnam.

Winnie is just 22 when she moves in with her great aunt and two surly cousins in Saigon to teach English at the Achievement! International Language Academy. Winnie feels herself to be unexceptional in every way: Half White American, half Vietnamese, she sees herself as having “the muddy ambiguity of the middle.” (In a "taupe” bathroom stall, she gloomily wonders if she is blending into the walls.) She’s also a frankly terrible English teacher, and she lives in fear of being found out by her zealous expat colleagues. But Winnie is finally settling into life in Saigon with her boyfriend, Long, when she suddenly goes missing. Kupersmith, herself of Vietnamese heritage, interweaves Winnie’s life in Vietnam with other people's stories, all linked together by a supernatural bond: There’s the daughter of a prominent pepper company owner, who disappeared into the forest a generation before Winnie and was rescued under mysterious circumstances. There’s the team at Saigon Spirit Eradication, a kind of Vietnamese Ghostbusters, only the head of the organization, known as the Fortune Teller, is not what he appears to be. The novel also dips into Vietnam’s pre- and post-colonial history with French characters to explore the ways in which war creates another kind of hauntedness. There’s even a possessed dog. Any description of the book could make it sound like too many spinning plates, but Kupersmith manages the whirl with dexterity and confidence. The novel is epic enough in scope to require a character list and several pages of maps, but the pages fly as the reader is compelled to figure out how all the narratives will eventually collide. Drawing from genres as diverse as horror, humor, and historical fiction, Kupersmith creates a rich and dazzling spectacle.

[necklaceofhope]

who is erin carter? on netflix is such a mid show. erin's backstory had so much potential and for what? instead of lingering on how kids that grow up in the system are at risk of exploitation in various ways, they made erin hook up with her sketchy superior who put her into a life-threatening situation then showed Erin being completely ok with DI Armstrong at the end of the series. instead of developing erin/kate's relationship with lena or harper or margot on screen, so the choice to betray them would be that much more difficult, they only dedicate one (1) episode to it. (i maintain the story would have been so much juicier if erin/kate and lena were in a relationship - the drama, the heartbreak when she dies! also when lena comes back and finds erin/kate married! but alas - netflix). in general, all the characters are mostly one-dimensional. not a single shred of personality that sold me on the flat dialogue. not to say the seven epidosde season isn't at fault here - super tight timeframe. also i think the setting (british expats in barcelona) can be pretty creative but the show didn't bother to explore the implications of it. the show barely featured the spoken language of the country it was set in, didn't bother much to explore the class issues inherent to it's setting (AGAIN, wasted potential in erin's backstory. are you telling me she's ok with all this shameless wealth? I know it's kind of addressed in her teacher's interview but it's just SO SHALLOW). also sean teale i only know you from this show and the gifted so idk if you've been typecast into a horrified but supportive husband but you can FOR SURE do better sldfdlkjsg(literally all i know about jordi is that he's erin's husband and he is a nurse/doctor). anyways WASTED POTENTIAL all around

[forteania]

Final day of our school’s Christmas Spirit Week is Pajama Day. So here’s my outfit

[books-to-add-to-your-tbr]

Title: The Joyce Girl

Author: Annabel Abbs

Series or standalone: standalone

Publication year: 2016

Genres: fiction, historical fiction, mental health

Blurb: The review in the November 1928 Paris Times is rapturous in its praise of Lucia Joyce's skill and artistry as a dancer. The family has made their home in Paris, where the latest ideas in art, music, and literature converge. Acolytes regularly visit the Joyce apartment to pay homage to Ireland's exiled literary genius. Among them is a tall, thin young man named Samuel Beckett - a fellow Irish expat who idolises Joyce and with whom Lucia becomes romantically involved. Lucia is both gifted and motivated, training tirelessly with some of the finest teachers in the world. Though her father delights in his daughter's talent, she clashes with her mother Nora. As her relationship with Beckett sours, Lucia's dreams unravel...as does her hope of a life beyond her father's shadow. With Lucia's behaviour growing increasingly erratic, James Joyce sends her to pioneering psychoanalyst Carl Jung. Here, at last, she will tell her own story - a fascinating, heartbreaking account of thwarted ambition, passionate creativity, and the power of love to both inspire and destroy.

[rockislandadultreads]

First Novels Exploring Social Media

A Burning by Megha Majumdar

Jivan is a Muslim girl from the slums, determined to move up in life, who is accused of executing a terrorist attack on a train because of a careless comment on Facebook. PT Sir is an opportunistic gym teacher who hitches his aspirations to a right-wing political party, and finds that his own ascent becomes linked to Jivan's fall. Lovely - an irresistible outcast whose exuberant voice and dreams of glory fill the novel with warmth and hope and humor - has the alibi that can set Jivan free, but it will cost her everything she holds dear.

Taut, symphonic, propulsive, and riveting from its opening lines, A Burning has the force of an epic while being so masterfully compressed it can be read in a single sitting.

Fake Accounts by Lauren Oyler

On the eve of Donald Trump's inauguration, a young woman snoops through her boyfriend's phone and makes a startling discovery: he's an anonymous internet conspiracy theorist, and a popular one at that. Already fluent in internet fakery, irony, and outrage, she's not exactly shocked by the revelation. Actually, she's relieved—he was always a little distant—and she plots to end their floundering relationship while on a trip to the Women's March in DC. But this is only the first in a series of bizarre twists that expose a world whose truths are shaped by online lies.

Suddenly left with no reason to stay in New York and increasingly alienated from her friends and colleagues, our unnamed narrator flees to Berlin, embarking on her own cycles of manipulation in the deceptive spaces of her daily life, from dating apps to expat meetups, open-plan offices to bureaucratic waiting rooms. She begins to think she can't trust anyone - shouldn't the feeling be mutual?

People Like Her by Ellery Lloyd

Followed by Millions, Watched by One

To her adoring fans, Emmy Jackson, aka @the_mamabare, is the honest “Instamum” who always tells it like it is. 

To her skeptical husband, a washed-up novelist who knows just how creative Emmy can be with the truth, she is a breadwinning powerhouse chillingly brilliant at monetizing the intimate details of their family life.

To one of Emmy’s dangerously obsessive followers, she’s the woman that has everything—but deserves none of it.  

As Emmy’s marriage begins to crack under the strain of her growing success and her moral compass veers wildly off course, the more vulnerable she becomes to a very real danger circling ever closer to her family.

The List by Yomi Adegoke

Ola Olajide, a celebrated journalist at Womxxxn magazine, is set to marry the love of her life in one month’s time. Young, beautiful, and successful—she and her fiancé Michael are considered the “couple goals” of their social network and seem to have it all. That is, until one morning when they both wake up to the same message: “Oh my god, have you seen The List?”

It began as a crowdsourced collection of names and somehow morphed into an anonymous account posting allegations on social media. Ola would usually be the first to support such a list—she’d retweet it, call for the men to be fired, write article after article. Except this time, Michael’s name is on it.

[gaybd1]

Hi, can you share your thoughts on 'immigrant' versus 'expat?'

okay sure so

these are just my thoughts so i dont know if im Wrong or Ignorant or anything, and im down to be corrected

but to me an expat is somebody who lives in another country for work, probably short-term (like, there is no permanent intent there)

and an immigrant is someone who moves to a new place permanently, usually with the intent to improve their life

a lot of times though people just call white people expats and people of color immigrants, which i think we should push back on. it seems kind of icky to me because it seems like it's almost trying to equate class to race and not ask any questions about it

full disclosure, im a white american. i left the US permanently five years ago because it was shitty and my life was shitty.

cost of living was astronomical and i couldnt even afford my own place, i had to live with my mom even though i worked full time at like double minimum wage. i experienced homelessness a couple times.

i was drowning in debt from student loans and THREE CREDIT CARDS i had to max out to help pay for school? i was a kid, and it's not like anyone explained to me how money and debt and interest and loans work until i was supposed to pay back $1000 a month

i had NO job opportunities as a trans teacher living in one of the most conservative parts of the country

so i got a job in china for about a year to help me get a foothold into taiwan, which is a much better life. in china back then they were just throwing jobs at white people, so they paid for my flight which was the only way i was able to get out of the us. I left with $200 to my name, most of that donated to get me started when i moved

here, i have a great job with a great salary and a good life. im not paying on any of the debt i owe in america lol and there is universal healthcare here. i dont have to worry about homophobia or transphobia nearly as much, i dont have to worry about getting shot when i go to work in a school.

and i never plan to leave here. this is my home. does taiwan still have its issues? yeah, all countries do. but my life is better here.

the american dream is bullshit and i will never go back there. i consider myself an immigrant because i moved to a new country permanently to improve my life. some people might even consider me a refugee, but i think that's a more complicated situation.

i lastly gotta say i understand exactly how privileged i am to be able to be here- i am only able to be here because of my university degree, and honestly, because im white. full stop. there's a lot of racism in the education industry in asia. and im very grateful for the chance to be here because not to be dramatic but i don't know if id be alive if i still lived in the us...

[globosoft123]

British Schools in Muscat: A Gateway to Global Education

Muscat, the capital of Oman, is a city where tradition meets modernity, offering an exceptional blend of cultural richness and cosmopolitan living. Over the years, it has become home to a growing expat community, with families from various parts of the world seeking opportunities for their children to receive quality education. Among the various educational options, British schools in Muscat stand out for their internationally recognized curriculum, high academic standards, and holistic approach to learning.

The British education system has long been regarded as one of the best in the world. It emphasizes a well-rounded education that nurtures students academically, socially, and emotionally. British schools in Muscat adopt this robust framework, offering a curriculum that is recognized globally. This allows students to have access to world-class higher education opportunities and prepares them for a wide range of career paths.

One of the key features of British schools in Muscat is their use of the English National Curriculum, which is divided into key stages that guide students through their educational journey. From early years through to secondary education, the curriculum provides a structured path that ensures students acquire the necessary knowledge and skills for further study or professional life. The curriculum’s flexibility also means that students are encouraged to pursue a broad range of subjects, from mathematics and science to the arts and humanities, allowing them to discover their interests and develop a wide skill set.

At British schools in Muscat, academic excellence is a top priority. Teachers are highly trained and experienced, many of them coming from the UK or other parts of the world, bringing a wealth of knowledge and expertise to the classroom. The schools provide a stimulating learning environment, with state-of-the-art facilities and resources that enhance the educational experience. The focus on small class sizes allows for personalized attention, ensuring that each child’s individual needs are met. This emphasis on quality teaching is reflected in the students' outstanding academic achievements, which often exceed international standards.

Apart from academic rigor, British schools in Muscat place a strong emphasis on extracurricular activities, recognizing the importance of developing well-rounded individuals. Sports, music, drama, and clubs form an integral part of the curriculum, allowing students to explore their talents, build confidence, and develop important life skills such as teamwork and leadership. These activities also play a vital role in helping students build friendships, promote mental well-being, and reduce stress. In addition to this, many British schools in Muscat encourage participation in community service projects, fostering a sense of social responsibility among students.

For many expat families in Muscat, British schools offer a sense of continuity and familiarity, especially for children who have been part of the British educational system in other countries. The transition into a new school is made smoother with a curriculum that aligns with international standards, allowing students to adapt quickly and easily. Moreover, British schools in Muscat often maintain close ties with British institutions and offer opportunities for students to connect with universities and colleges in the UK, facilitating smoother pathways to further education.

Parents in Muscat choose British schools for their children because they provide an environment that fosters academic excellence while also focusing on the emotional and social development of students. With their commitment to high standards and their nurturing approach, these schools ensure that students are not only well-prepared for university but also equipped with the skills and values needed to thrive in an increasingly interconnected and diverse world. The focus on building resilience, independence, and confidence in students helps them develop into well-rounded individuals, ready to face the challenges of the future.

Among the many British schools in Muscat, one institution that stands out is ABA Oman. Known for its exceptional educational standards, ABA Oman offers a comprehensive curriculum that is tailored to the needs of its diverse student body. The school is committed to providing a well-rounded education that combines academic excellence with personal growth. Students at ABA Oman benefit from a rigorous and challenging curriculum, alongside a broad range of extracurricular activities that help them discover their passions and develop new skills. With its outstanding facilities, dedicated staff, and commitment to fostering a supportive learning environment, ABA Oman continues to be one of the top choices for families seeking British education in Muscat. Whether you are looking for a school for your child to excel academically or a place that encourages creativity and individuality, ABA Oman offers a holistic educational experience that prepares students for success in a globalized world