Monday, December 17, 2007

Harlem Lanes

Chinatown bus ticket from Boston to New York to celebrate a friend’s birthday: $15

Six subway rides around the city: $10

Cover charge to get into Harlem Lanes bowling alley: $20

Watching the Mayweather/Hatton prize fight and being the only seven Caucasians in the packed bowling alley under our party’s name of “Hazzard” while drinking White Russians: Priceless


Saturday, December 01, 2007

My Favorite Podcasts

Since arriving in Boston a few months ago, I’ve been trying to assimilate to a new job and a new city. Unfortunately, this assimilation has hindered the frequency to which I post to this blog.

For the first time in my life, I’m living in a metropolitan city and commuting to & from work on public transportation. Riding the T has been so convenient that I recently sold my car, but I can safely say that rush hour crowds are not something I look forward to on the trains.

My greatest escape during my morning and late afternoon subway rides has been podcasts. Below is a list of my favorite podcasts at the moment. I’m constantly searching for new content, so if you have any recommendations, please do so in the comments.

Without further adieu...


TED Talks (video)

This is hands-down my favorite podcast. I’ve been watching these videos for about a year and half now, and they’ve turned me on to so many different ideas, websites, projects, etc. Not to mention, they provide fodder for countless dinner conversations.

These are so good I usually don’t watch them on the trains, but I had to include them anyway.





BBC Global News

I listen to this one during my morning stupor to the train. I can’t say I really pay attention to it because I’m more focused on my cup of coffee. Walking and drinking a scalding hot beverage is not easy at 8am, but I the British accented news provides a nice soundtrack.

Surprisingly, I do manage to take in some current events by osmosis in the process.




NPR 7am News Summary

I listen to this one when I actually get on the train. Its purpose is to quickly and concisely reinforce the news I’ve already heard with a slightly different perspective and hope that it sticks.









Boing Boing TV (video)

This is for when I get lucky and actually get a seat on the train. It’s also a morning litmus test. If I find myself staring glossy eyed at these short and bizarre stories without scratching my head or asking WTF, I know I need more coffee.






Onion News Network (video)

Same as BBTV, but with more political satire. I've been reading the off and on for years, and I'm really happy that they've branched out into video.

The Onion really is America's finest news source.










WebbAlert (video)

I picked up on this podcast from an iTunes podcast spotlight email, which I usually ignore.

This is for my geeky tech news. Morgan Webb filters through headlines from websites like Ars Technica, Endgaget, and CNET to provide a condensed viewpoint on what’s happening on the world wide webbs.




The Sound of Young America

This is up there with TED when it comes to helping me discover new things, albeit on a completely different level. For example, I just listened to a recent episode and found out there is a documentary about Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap. Who'd've thunk?

These interviews remind me a lot of the LIghthouse interviews my friends and I conducted while I was in Japan, but Jesse Thorn is much more professional with his approach and production.




The Coke Machine Glow

This is a cool, hour-long mix of indies music. It can be hit or miss depending on who compiled the mix, but overall I really enjoy it, and it helps me pick up some new artists.

I only wish they would insert chapter breaks and album cover art. As it is now, you have to cross check the time on the podcast with the info in iTunes, which is a little tedious.




SALT: Seminars About Long Term Thinking

This is a little too weighty, profound, and lengthy for commuter train rides, so I tend to save these for longer distances, like Chinatown bus rides between New York and DC.

I first came across the Long Now Foundation a few years ago when I read a seminar by Brian Eno. It was the first (and only time) I could actually feel my mind elongate inside my cranium and change the way I think. This podcast helps recreate that feeling a little bit.





So, that is what’s been keeping me entertained the past few months here in Boston since I’m living without a TV. As I said before, I’m constantly looking for new podcasts (audio and video), so if you know of something that’s not on the list above, please tell me about it.

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Saturday, August 25, 2007

My New Job

I’m pleased to announce that I recently accepted a job with Northeastern University in Boston, MA.

Two classmates from SIT (Shei & Yukari) and I will begin teaching in the English Language Center just after Labor Day. I will teach an Advanced Reading course that will cover The Great Gatsby and Lord of the Flies, as well as an Intermediate Composition course.

Needless to say, I’m very excited about moving to Boston, and I hope that many friends and family will come visit in the near future.

Please get in touch.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Aruba


I don't know how to write about my recent family trip to Aruba. People might think I'm making it all up. My mother, stepfather, brother and I went to a destination wedding for two people I'd never met.

Should I write about the day we were leaving, and my brother was driving down from Asheville? He went to pick up his car from the downtown lot where he'd left it the night before and found his back window broken out and Sirius radio stolen. Then, he went to get gas and drove off with his wallet on the roof of his car. Luckily, he had his passport, so we all made the flight to Aruba, but Delta lost his luggage. The most unbelievable part of this is it all happened my brother's birthday!

On the other hand, maybe I should write about our second night in Aruba when my brother, mother, and I sat around a lounge bar by the beach drinking frozen bugaloes and mango martinis while having an intense family disagreement until 3 o'clock in the morning. The third time the security guard came by to ask us to be quiet, he had to remind us we were on vacation in Aruba and should relax.

Perhaps folks would rather read about the father of the bride hosting a yoga class on the beach early one morning. He was so hung over he could barely think of any standing poses for people to do and kept falling over in the sand while attempting the tree pose. Later, he went parasailing and vomited on himself while his wife refused to reel him in because she said, "He'd want to get his money's worth out of the ride."

I know… I can write about the wedding itself. The beautiful setting by the water as the sun went down, the flowers, the music, the girl in a thong that walked by the bride and groom while they were exchanging their vows, and the absent minded preacher who continuously lost his place in the prayer book and completely forgot to give the newlyweds their rings!

Possibly, it might be best to write about the reception party by the hotel pool. While the father of the bride danced nonstop to the cover band and somehow managed to sweat what looked like a smiley face into his dark grey T-shirt, my brother was taking bets on who would be the first to jump in the swimming pool. After asking the maid of honor to jump in with him, "You be Thelma; I'll be Louise," I took off and dove in. My brother picked up the maid of honor and carried her in; the groom and his best man were right behind, and eventually the all other groomsmen and bridesmaids followed.

In the end, I guess it doesn't matter what I write about, at least there was a happy ending.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Podcast

Since returning to Gainesville two weeks ago, I’ve been busy assisting my grandparents, who are beginning to show serious signs of old age. However, I refuse to sit idly by in the Old Folks home, so…

I’m proud to announce to a new podcast project!

I decided to record my grandfather telling old family stories as a way to engage him mentally while he recovers from a recent knee injury.

So far, there are two episodes up. The first episode details how my grandparents met by chance at the University of Georgia in 1941, and the second tells of their early courtship around a portable radio.

My goal is to get a few more entries posted by the end of summer. Please check it out:
heyhey’s podcast

Stay tuned!

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Freedom Fest


July 4th 2007 consisted of sunning myself by cousin's heated swimming pool, drinking beer, eating hotdogs & peach cobbler with ice cream, talking on my new iPhone, checking email, sending text messages, and surfing the internet; all without leaving my reclining beach chair.

I love decadent freedom.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Bye Bye Brattleboro

I had to scratch my original plans for the summer.

Initially, I wanted to stay in Brattleboro and explore various rivers and swimming holes around Vermont, hike the Long Trail through the Green Mountains, drive up to Burlington and see a show at the Higher Ground, and get a little work done on my final portfolio so I can officially graduate with an MA in TESOL from S.I.T.

My idea of summer altered when I got news that my eighty-eight year old grandfather fell and busted up his knee. What would have been a bump and bruise to most, sent him to the emergency room.

I packed my bags within a week and I was headed home.

Bye-bye Brattleboro, you will be missed, but family calls.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

Summer Commencement

My graduate course work at SIT concluded a couple weeks ago. With my new and sudden free time, I've been celebrating with other folks in the Brattleboro area.

We started with swimming in the West River, a pub crawl around downtown Brattleboro, the 6th annual Strolling of the Heifers, & chicken wings at my kind neighbors apartment.

Below are some pictures* and haiku** from the aforementioned events.




Swimming holes cool splash
Pub Crawls sun drops on our feet
Celebrate nonstop!



Jaeger Bomb good idea
Two Jaeger bombs bad idea
Butt Darts game, I win.





Megaphone wake up
"Welcome to Strolling Heifers!"
Interesting day begins

Moles are brown & red
The cows are coming... the cows
Big and black and round




Heifers stroll Main St.
Retreat for Pad Thai & cheese
Pet the wool and smile

I love the heifers
Because they give me much milk
My coffee tastes good.




Hot spicy, yeah boy!
Wings, Willie Country Cobbler
Wipe those fingers clean.

Wings hot, weather more
This apartment blows my ass
pit out and stinky




Salty Celery
Yucca sweetness on our tongues
Eat hummus, Brown Beer

RISK: conquer or not!
Mike & Hey play while girls sigh
Think challenging game.


*pictures by marz & shei **haiku communally written

Monday, May 07, 2007

Dance For a Reason



SIT grad school girls make a dance video for a good cause.

If this video makes you laugh, please check out Race for a Reason.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Saturday, April 21, 2007

The Sportsman Bar & Lounge

Riddle:

You are on a horse, galloping at a constant speed.


On your right side is a sharp drop off, and on your left side is an elephant traveling at the same speed as you.


Directly in front of you is a galloping kangaroo and your horse is unable to overtake it. Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the Kangaroo.


What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?



If you do not know, see answer below.




It was 10:00pm Friday night and we were about to begin. I flipped the dome light on in my car so we could go over the assignment one more time. We were to focus on 1) the skills of observing and interviewing 2) the process of entering and belonging to a new culture and 3) translate the learning into teaching questions.

We got out of my car, walked up the old wooden steps, and I hesitantly opened the door of the Sportsman Bar & Lounge for Sunny and Akisha. The three of us, a Korean, an African American, and a W.A.S.P., were an unlikely group to enter a Vermont workingman’s bar.

We drew a few glances from a few folks playing pool in the back as we inquisitively walked up to the bar to order and were nonchalantly greeted by the bartender, “What can I get ya?”

“Um. Uh,” I stuttered, “Bud, please,” thinking it was the most generic beer.

“Well,” began the bartender, “we got a special ‘cuz the Sox game is on. Bud Light draft is only a buck.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

We took a seat at a nearby table with two beers and a Kahlua milk that came in a beer mug. Next, we began to take in our cultural surroundings. Akisha and I, being somewhat familiar with American bar scenes, decided to just sit back and try our best to be flies on the wall.

Sunny, on the other hand, took a much more active approach. She started walking around the bar surveying all the various wall hangings. Amongst Red Sox banners, Bud beer posters, and neon signs, she spotted some thing that caused her to pause.

“Who… who’s this picture?” she asked to any willing patron seated at the bar.

A scruffy fellow, named Tony, in the corner seat of the bar decided to answer, “That there is Warren Wilcox. He was a regular here; lived upstairs, and those are his ashes in that urn. Now, he’s always with us.”

Shocked and chagrined I abandoned my passive state to check this out. Sure enough, there he was; a picture of Warren sitting with elbows on the bar and a grin from ear to ear placed directly on top of grey urn.

Meanwhile, Sunny kept exploring. “What this?” she asked and pointed to a piece of white poster board over the bar.

“That’s for Kyle Gilbert. He was killed in Iraq in 2003,” answered the bartender without batting an eye.

Again, not believing my ears, I walked across the room from Warren to Kyle. The white poster in question was nothing fancy, just a piece of white poster board with photo of a young man in uniform with the date August 6th 2003 and the words “Just Don’t Forget Me” written in a black felt tip marker.

“GEORGE BUSH!!!” Sunny hollered and pointed before I could even finish processing the poster for Kyle.

“Did George Bush come to this bar?” Sunny asked bluntly and pointed to a framed picture hanging above the bar next to Kyle.

“Naw,” the bartender shook his head. “Kyle’s parents went to D.C for a memorial service and got their picture taken with President Bush. The flag from Kyle’s coffin is downstairs in the basement.”

I think I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Then, I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking why a bar has a memorial flag in the basement.

Sunny, still investigating, managed to make her way back across the bar towards Warren’s urn. “What’s this?” Nothing could have prepared me for what was coming.

“Hup! She found the trophy!” exclaimed the bartender as he eagerly darted out from behind the bar as if he’d been waiting for that question all night. “That’s a Butt Dart trophy.”

“A what?”

“A Butt Dart trophy.”

“A what?”

I walked over to see this trophy with my own eyes. Wiping away the disbelief, I saw it. It was a standard softball trophy, but instead of a gold figurine on top swinging a bat, there was a 5’ inch, whittled wooden derriere with a 25cent piece wedged between the cheeks.

“It’s a game we play here in the bar,” came the explanation. “Ya see, here’s what ya do. Ya put a shot glass on the floor, a quarter between your butt cheeks, and ya try to drop the quarter in the glass.”

“You’re kidding, right?” is all I could muster, but in the back of my head, I was wondering if this happened with pants on or off.

“The owner of the trophy is on her way down here right now. She’ll be here in about 15 minutes.”

Fifteen minutes later, a tornado blew into the bar. “Wheeeeeew!” was the first thing I heard, and before I knew it, a heavyset woman with long blonde hair was standing on a chair and spinning around a pillar by a nearby table.

“Gina! Gina!” yelled the bartender. “Before you git goin’, we got someone here who wants to see Butt Darts.”

This perked Gina’s interest because without hesitation she jumped down off the chair, sauntered up to the bar, and demanded “Gimme a roll of quarters and a shot glass with water in it so they don’t fuckin’ bounce out.”

“Who wants to see Butt Darts?” she slurred and looked around before the bartender could point her in our direction.

“Alright, here’s what you do,” she said as she placed the shot glass on the floor next to our table. “Ya insert the quarters in ass; ya know where the glass is; ya know where yer ass is, and ya know where the quarters are, right?”

I watched in pure astonishment as Gina proceeded to insert a dollars worth of quarters into her rear end (with pants on, in case you’re still wondering), hobble over the shot glass, and successfully plop three of the four quarters into the glass.

“Yeeeaaaahhhh!” she howled and started cavorting around the bar. “Okay! Now you try!” she pointed at Sunny.

Sunny voluntarily got up and received the wet quarters. “Okay, but you have to help me.”

Gina reassuringly walked up behind Sunny and told her, “You need an inserter? Okay, here,” she said as she took the quarters from Sunny’s hand and bent down and began placing the change in Sunny’s gluteus maximus.

Sunny squeezed and shambled over to the shot glass with a look of total discomfort and determination.

“Whoa! Back up a little bit,” Gina coached her from behind. “That looks good. Let ‘em go!”

Sunny relaxed her backside and to her own amazement, all four quarters fell directly into the glass without touching the rim. “I win! I win!”

“Fucking bitch,” huffed Gina. “Peter, pour me two shots of tequila. One for me, and one for the new Butt Dart champion.”



Riddle Answer:

Get your drunk ass off the Merry-Go-Round

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Back in Brattleboro

It seems my blog got derailed somewhere in Mexico, but I hope to get it back on track in the near future.

Please stay tuned.

Friday, February 09, 2007

Bugs in Mexico

I thought this would be an interesting way to show some of the things I see everyday in Veracruz on my one mile walk to work.



It takes me back to the days of Herbie (before Lindsay Lohan was born).

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Geotag

I don’t know about ya’ll, but I love taking pictures, and I love looking at maps when I’m traveling. It just so happens, I realized I could link my photos to a world map with Flickr.

For those paying attention to my Photostream on the right sidebar, I learned how to “geotag” my pictures. If you click on a photo, it will take you to my Flickr page, where you will see the photo and a list of details next to the photo
If you click on the “Map” link, it will show you a satellite view of where the photo was taken, and you can zoom in or out of the map to get a better idea where in the world I went.

Hope this helps put things in perspective.

Peace by Peace.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Papantla

On my way to El Tajin, I went through the small town of Papantla, where I saw what I think is a rain dance of some kind.

Not really sure, though.

El Tajin

Last week I learned that Mel Gibson’s new movie, Apocalypto, was filmed in the state of Veracruz. To make it even more appealing to me, I learned that Gestalt, the school I’m teaching in, was involved in the filming. The fashion students designed and made many of the costumes, jewelry, and other accessories worn by the actors and actresses, and many students were used as extras.

Unfortunately, the film is showing here with Spanish subtitles, and my Spanish isn’t quite up to snuff to understand everything being said. I’m tempted to try anyway, just for the experience.

Apocalypto or not, my interest in Mexican history was sparked, so Anna, a fellow intern, and I decided to get out of the city of Veracruz for a day and visit the ancient ruins at El Tajin.

"The city El Tajín was the capital of the Totonac state. Tajín means city or place of thunder in the Totonac language, and is believed to have been one of the names for the Totonac god of thunder, lightning and rain." -- Wikipedia





On our way into the archaeological site, we saw five men perform the Voladores Rite. Now, I thought I’d seen some crazy things in Japan, but this ranks way up there.



According to my Lonely Planet, this is packed with symbolic meanings, which I’m sure at some point in time it was, but from my perspective, it’s just a way to sucker tourists into watching something crazy while vendors sell T-shirts made in China.

Talkin' about Teaching

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Awesome

In an attempt to mock the cover letter workshop I sat through at SIT, and the process I went through to get my current internship, I recently composed an email application, in cover letter style, to a friend who goes by the monkier the Director of Awesomeness.

My awesome application was as follows:

Dear Director of Awesomeness,

My name is Heyward Gignilliat. I am a candidate for a Master of Arts in Teaching at the School for International Training in Brattleboro, VT.

I recently embarked on an eight-week internship to Veracruz, Mexico, and I would be honored if you bestowed upon me the title of Ambassador of Awesomeness.

I feel I distinguish myself from other applicants because I am ever mindful of the Big Here and the Long Now. If granted this honorary title, I vow to teach, learn, speak, study, listen, laugh, eat, drink, joke, play, surf, spin, skip, jingle, dance, groove, twist, squeeze, drop, flush, climb, win, lose, conquer, smoke, rip, tear, thrash, roar, thrust, finish, slash, and even burn in the name of Awesomeness.

Please consider this application, and I am looking forward to hearing from you in the near future.


After a couple days of deliberation, my friend wrote me back with the following response:

Dear Candidate,

After extensive review of your application the selection committee (comprised only of the Director of Awesomeness) would like to honor you by conferring upon you the title of Ambassador of Awesomeness.

It is with great pleasure that this position is filled by such an ambitious candidate in its first conferral as of date. It fills the director with much pleasure that awesomeness will be brought to the people of Veracruz.

Everyone, especially beautiful women, need awesomeness and I trust that you will spread as much of it as possible to Veracruz and the surrounding region. Just be sure to do all that you have said you will... especially groove, squeeze, burn and thrust.


I guess I am now a diplomat... of awesome sorts.

Monday, January 15, 2007

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Sushii w/ Salsa?

I knew Veracruz had a small Japanese restaurant around somewhere, but I’d nearly walked all the way to the beach before I stumbled upon the squat building with Kanji painted around all the windows. As I stepped into the nearly empty restaurant, a short and weathered old Mexican man stood up to greet me, “Buenas tardes.”

I thought for a moment and then muttered in Spanish, “Hablo Ingles?” In a split second, it occurred to me that I’d conjugated the verb wrong. The old man just waved me off and motioned for me to sit down.

Not exactly sure what to do or say next, I reached down to the nearest table and picked up a pair of chopsticks. The old Mexican man looked puzzled and said, “Hashi da.”

With renewed confidence and a gleam in my eye, I asked, “Nihongo hanasemasuka?”

“Un,” grunted the Mexican.

“Eto ne… Boku wa Eigo no sensei desu. Kyo no jyugyo de hashi tsukaitai. Moratemoii desuka?”

“Ii desu yo,” he said delightedly and gestured for me to take the chopsticks in my hand.

“Yon seto de ii desuka?”

“Ii yo,” the Mexican’s son said coming out of the back kitchen with a handful of chopsticks for me.

“Arigatogozaimashita,” I said with a bow as I backed out the door. “Shitsuraishimashita.”

As soon as I was back out on the street, I thought it was strange to meet a Mexican family that could speak Japanese.

Then, I began wondering what they thought. Some white boy pops in off the street, can’t speak a lick of Spanish, but in Japanese says he’s an English teacher and wants to use four sets of chopsticks in his class, and he pops back out.

Yeah, that might be a little odd. I smiled and hurried towards the bank. Now I needed to ask for $20 worth of coins.

Friday, January 12, 2007

Xalapa: Museo De Antropologia

Yesterday, Anna and I decided to take advantage of our day off (our work schedules don't really kick in until next week) and go to Xalapa for the day. It was an easy hour & a half bus ride north.

Below are some pictures from the amazing Anthropology Museum. Enjoy!

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Veracruz: The First week in Pictures

Here are some photos, in no particular order, of my first week in Veracruz, Mexico.

I suggest playing Latin music in the background as you watch.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Friday, January 05, 2007

SIT Internship

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Winter Holiday 06

The Ride South

I sat in the backseat bleary eyed from the drive yesterday. Occasionally, I would glance at a book Atasi had given me an hour before. I didn’t really feel like reading, but the weight of the book felt comfortable in my hand.

The Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Freire. At one point, I opened the book and began counting how many times the word ‘oppressed’ appeared on a single page… one, two, three, four; flipping to another random page… one, two, four, six oppressed; another random page… five oppresses. This is not the kinda book I wanna to read while going home for Christmas, and my gaze drifted out the car window to the passing mountains for an undisclosed amount of time.

An unfamiliar street sign snapped me to attention. “Hey, Gooch” I called from the back seat. “Where are we?”

“Ummm. I dunno,” he said. I think I woke him from a daydream too.

“Are we still heading south on 29?”

“I’ve just been driving straight,” he reassured me.

Suddenly, a cell phone went off somewhere inside the car, and Mario sitting shotgun answered it on the second ring. “I’m on my way to Atlanta… No, I’m not there yet… I dunno… I’m still in Virginia.”

Christmas Day


Taylor and Kady: the singing, dancing Christmas princesses.


New Years Eve

“What exactly is flare and panache?” I asked Chris as he brought out a box full of Mardi Gras beads and other tacky knick-knacks. “ I don’t think I have either of those.”

Stiles quickly reached into the box and pulled out a black wig with pigtails. He tried it on and walked into the dining room to see himself in a mirror. “You look like Pocahontas!” someone laughed.

I guessed wigs were the way forward this year, so I walked up to the box and grabbed a blonde one. Jason looked at me as I put it on and began trying to the clear the hair from my eyes. “Uhh, dude! You look like the guy from Spinal Tap.” I guess I can dig that; I thought and headed to the front door to leave for the party.

“Come on in!” was the greeting at the basement door of the mayor’s house by an older man. “What’s your name?”

“Me? I’m David St. Hubbins,” I replied.

“Hi, David,” said the older gentleman, who turned out to be the mayor’s father.

Then, almost as if on queue, Chris deadpanned, “The patron saint of quality footwear.”

“Hey! I’m Randy. Nice to meet you,” said a jolly guy in a penguin suit and a top hat. “I’m the mayor. Ya’ll are safe here. The cops in this town work for me.”

“Happy New Year!”