The more things change

I was hoping all those geographically isolated phases of life and international adjustments since becoming an adult would break this rickety system and make me impossible to pigeonhole (I don't call dinner 'tea' any more), but this ended up being alarmingly spot-on regardless. I'm not that stuck in my ways, am I?

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/02/15/upshot/british-irish-dialect-quiz.html

26 ways to enjoy tedious bus journeys (if you are a bit strange)

I don't normally bother offering tips or advice unless it benefits me in some way, like if I'm trying to work out what I think about an issue or just letting off steam about taxi drivers. Seriously, what a load of knobs.

Still, coming up with the following list and then needlessly alphabetising it helped to fill some of the dead time when being driven across Thailand in a cramped minibus, trying to ignore the stranger's head intermittently perching on my rigid shoulder and the topless man in the row in front complaining about the country to his local girlfriend to an excessive degree that made my own rants look like tourist board propaganda by comparison ('Why do they need so many f-ing drains?' 'Because of flooding.' 'But a hundred on one f-ing street?' 'Yes, there are typhoons and flooding.' 'Well, still.')

If you think you would be perfectly content passing the time talking to the people you like, playing with your phone or just sleeping, this list isn't for you. This is just for freaks.

Learning Japanese I think I'm learning Japanese I really think so (I am)

It was fun while it lasted, but I'm tired of seeing this in my most popular posts, so she had to go. The quest to stifle this blog's popularity continues...

You might be surprised to hear that my Korean language studies have actually been progressing adequately, which can be mostly credited to my occasional bouts of unrequited interest in nice ladies who for some reason or other decide not to hurl themselves into the destructive cyclone of a relationship with me. The lovely fools. You made the right decision.

Still, for my first couple of months in Korea I couldn't do much more than explain to people that I couldn't speak their language (bud heyo!) 'I can't speak' is the first thing they teach you, quite self-defeatingly, in all the various language courses I own produced by the same fairly well-known company that I won't name here. Let's call them 'Bimsleur.' It's like you shell out for these CD sets and then feel you can let yourself off the hook from working through the whole thing because at least you can express your ignorance accurately. I make me sick.

Obviously I did splash the cash on all these language courses I listen to, because I am a wealthy and moral man and wouldn't know the first thing about obtaining them through illicit channels (on a completely unrelated note, South Korea's fibre optic broadband really is a fresh of breath air after putting up with dodgy South East Asia connections for so long - almost as if those countries have more important things to spend their limited funds on than needlessly high bandwidth).

For a long time now, ever since I first considered teaching in Japan, I've had a basic Japanese course taking up space on my hard drive, comprising 8 x 30-minute lessons. I decided that mastering all the basic sentences contained in these four hours (of which most is pauses for me to speak in, and repetitions of the same phrases over and over again) will make me a master of Japanese. A sensei, if you will - a term taught to me by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I was about four, disproving that the animated adventures of talking, fighting reptiles were of no educational value. They literally taught me a thing.

But I needed some motivation, and what more precious incentive than the risk of an incomplete blog post? Unless you're learning Japanese too, you should switch off now and not read more, because the rest of this page will be filled with my study notes from eight Japanese lessons over eight consecutive days. There won't be any more morally ambiguous pictures or anything - this is even more explicitly for my own benefit than my blogs normally are anyway.

My English bad quality

Call me an elitist language school snob,
but I'd probably think twice before sending my kid there (Kaohsiung)

I've been living outside the English-speaking world for more than a year, which really isn't as difficult as it sounds, as a lot of people speak English there anyway. Language barriers haven't presented a problem most of the time either (apart from that one time in Indonesia when I ended up sleeping in a rainy field).

But as I speak less and less to native English speakers, I've been noticing a drop in the quality of my spoken English - what began as well-meaning simplification to make me easier to understand seems to have had the adverse effect of making me forget how sentences actually work.

This became most apparent when I spoke to an American in Thailand in November, and caught myself saying 'tomorrow I stay three nights in Cambodia.' An ambitious plan, albeit chronologically impossible without some sort of Father Christmas-like time-warping ability. But I realised this had become a major problem when I took in the view at Jeju Island, South Korea, and proclaimed: 'I like to be fresh air in my face.'

Singa-poor

Do you see what I did there?

When I was travelling down the Malay Peninsula through Southern Thailand and Malaysia and the conversation topic of Singapore reared its ugly, lionesque head (on a fish body - how long would that creature last before devouring itself?) people would invariably complain about how expensive this place is.

Singapore likes to cultivate this affluent image, with its flashy malls and Filipino maids serving every loveless household (too harsh?) But unless you buy all your liquid sustenance from the needlessly extravagant Long Bar of the Raffles Hotel or insist on staying in the most luxurious and eye-catching hotels (and thus have a worse view than the people in cheaper hotels who can actually see your building - suckers), it's very easy to live cheaply in Singapore. It's not too far behind Malaysia, or even Thailand.

And with higher quality of life, well-behaved traffic and plenty of free attractions, you're getting considerably better value for money. Well, sometimes.

Is that all I get, Indonesia?

Earlier this year, I complained that 30 days wasn't enough time to fully experience Thailand. Even by maximising the daylight hours by taking night buses (and sometimes managing to sleep for as much as 45 minutes per night), I still had to renew my visa just to see a few more places before giving in.

Time for another complaint - 30 days to see Indonesia is even crazier. Especially considering this scattered island nation is one of the largest countries in the world and it takes practically all day to get anywhere.

This probably doesn't matter to the 80% of international visitors who never venture beyond Bali (the lazy bastards), but I would have liked to have spent longer In Donesia.

Learning Korean

So you've kept up with the Mandarin Chinese studies, right Dave? Like you said you would in that over-optimistic blog post?

Screw you, guilty conscience - when have you ever done me good? You can't guilt-trip me out of being lazy, I already feel bad about my lack of linguistic skills. I still have recurring bad dreams about being back at school and bunking/flunking German A-level.

I'm seriously impressed by bi-lingual skills - any time I hang out with a local person or ask someone directions and they reply in perfect English, I'm bowled over. Native English speakers are so damn lazy by comparison, including me. But until now, I've just lacked a little motivation (beyond guilt) to really learn a language, and been unsure exactly which language to focus my efforts on.

I really like Chinese writing, but I was never planning on spending long in China. Japanese is much easier to speak, but I don't think I'll be visiting there for a while yet. Luckily, I've met a Korean girl now, so the decision was made for me. Besides, she bought me an ace pocket Korean phrasebook, so it would be rude not to at least try!

As usual, I started with numbers.

Mandarin Wednesdays

Sort of like Orange Wednesdays. Except in this case the orange is specifically Chinese.

Learning 'Malaysian'

Malaysia's cultural diversity is one of the things I like about it most (apart from the food, the scenery and the girls [TBA]).

But while this multicultural melting pot is the reason behind many of these great experiences (including the food - sometimes ironically prepared in a melting pot), the downside of this ethnic smorgasbord is that it can be more difficult to converse with locals - as depending which state, city or even which side of the street you're walking down, the local language might be Malay, Arabic, Hokkien, Cantonese, or none of the above.

If you're the sort of considerate, respectful traveller who likes to make the effort to learn a few local phrases, this can mean working a little bit harder. But better to get tongue-tied trying to pronounce Arabic numbers than arrogantly assuming English will be spoken everywhere. Which it is. Even between Malaysians of different ethnic backgrounds, who typically use it as the de facto national language rather than learning to speak like their neighbours.

They only become fluent in two languages? That's just lazy. Not like me, with my sketchy German and bits and pieces picked up from other places I've been, most of which I pronounce wrong. Nope!

Learning Thai

This post was proving too popular. The sexy teacher had to go

A new land, a new language to learn for three days before I give into fatigue and laziness and decide that 'hello,' 'sorry' and a couple of swear words will get me by. I'm not dead yet am I? Unless this blog is my hell.

So, because - contrary to sense - I do actually find these helpful for forming neural connections and remembering the order of foreign numbers, I've committed my mental mental image of Thai numbers 0 to 9 to paper. Or more accurately, to Paint.

How to eat like an authentic tourist

Planning to visit foreign countries, but worried you won't stand out enough when ordering and eating food? Here are some great ways to eat out like a genuine tourist, wherever the heck you are.

Learning Mandarin

With a busy November of work, novel, girl and being a tourist, it's been a while since I had some free time to devote to self-improvement.

Fortunately, my borderline-OCD need to keep this blog's momentum going, even in slow weeks, has provided extra incentive to learn more bits and pieces of foreign languages from countries I'll be visiting in the very near future - like Taiwan which, insanely, I'll be landing in this time next week.

Learning Hebrew

I was planning to spend a week or so longer in Greece and really master the language, but after all the ferry annoyance, and spotting a tempting last-minute flight, there no longer seemed a point in delaying Israel until November. I'm not a slave to your calendar, Pope Gregory!

So, to while away the travel time I've entered the realm of the Hebrew language, so I can blend in like a local in the immigrant nation. I've always thought I'd make a good Jew, in any case - I'm called David, I appreciate sardonic humour, I'm tight with money and I've got quite a big nose. Really, I'm just one very small operation away from being a true Son of Israel.

Still learning Greek

I'm embracing today's 10-hour bus ride to Athens as a chance to become master of the language, and jack off none (well, that would be inappropriate behaviour on a bus).

After the embarrassment of getting around in Italy with just a weather-beaten print-out to remind me of key phrases - and to be honest, cruising by on little more than ci, buongiorno and grazie - I was determined to put more effort into learning the language during my visit to Greece, with help from Pimsleur's Modern Greek Short Course which I sort of stole...

Learning Greek

What the hell does that mean? It's all Greek to me. A-ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Actually, Greek doesn't present much of a problem here in Ipsos, a second home for vermilion sunbathers escaping from North West England. Practically all the neo-locals who frequent the bar I use for internet access hail from Greater Manchester, meaning I've heard more accents from my home counties in these last two weeks than I did in the previous three years, and I'm in the bloody Mediterranean.

What do these Mancs think they're doing, abandoning their birth nation to make a new life overseas? They make me sick.

Because I'm obviously nothing like them, I'm committed to at least trying to learn the local language while I'm in Greece. Here's how to learn foreign numbers easily and keep them in your head for all time, along with all the other junk.