期末在即，上周给恬复习中文，这个学期所学的竟然只记住了5，6个字。除了检讨自己的督促不力之外，更深感中文学校的无用。看来还是靠人不如靠己，这个暑假正好是一个可以做实验的时候，到时候看看自己教是不是会效果好一点。在网上搜了一通，发现国内的教材和网站都很齐全，只要自己制定一个教学的纲要，找一些资料，应该不是很难。自己过去也编过教中文的软件，有的东西真的还可以再拾起来，用在自己的孩子身上。 昨晚也给恬做了一次K班的数学技能测试，她除了认钱和10以内的减法差一点以外，其他还好。
管理自己孩子的学习其实真的可以作为一项事业来做的。
纪姊妹送来一则邮件，其中有BAD(Bossy, Angry, Distant)和FAT(Faithful, Available, Transparent)的父母风格，可以引以为戒。
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
读书
昨晚吃完晚饭时间还早，就带了小朋友去了社区图书馆。T找到两本书， Mouse Shapes, The Giving Tree, 坐在小桌子旁边就开始旁若无人大声朗读起来。让我吃惊的是她基本没有几个不会读的字。看来最近半年的进步很大。回想起自己6岁的时候刚刚开始接触读书，直接从小人书过渡到字书，放假的时候，妈妈带我去上班，我就在图书馆的书库里消磨一整天。希望T也能和我一样在读书中发现一个更有趣的世界。
暑假还没有开始，我为T做暑假计划也好一阵了。昨天决定让她每天读一本书。
暑假还没有开始，我为T做暑假计划也好一阵了。昨天决定让她每天读一本书。
Thursday, April 21, 2011
生与死
Wrote these today in response to Moo's email about Death.
----------------------------
14 years ago I experienced my first “death touch” after lost my mom to an accident. I spent months in vein trying to make sense the meaning of it. Life to me, at that moment, was meaningless and irredeemable if death is the ultimate purpose. I remembered one evening I was sitting on a hill overlooking the port city Debuque, watching the sun setting on Mississippi River; it dawned on me that in the grand scheme of things life never ceases to exist. As sun will rise again in tomorrow, life will rise again from death and transcend it.
Some years later, my mom came to my dream soon after my baptism, we had a vivid conversation that I still remember today. She told me exactly the same thing I read in the scripture - “It is the same way with the resurrection of the dead. Our earthly bodies are planted in the ground when we die, but they will be raised to live forever. Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory. They are buried in weakness, but they will be raised in strength. They are buried as natural human bodies, but they will be raised as spiritual bodies.” (1 Corinthians 15:42-57)
Looking back, I can say my spiritual awakening was born from her death.
----------------------------
14 years ago I experienced my first “death touch” after lost my mom to an accident. I spent months in vein trying to make sense the meaning of it. Life to me, at that moment, was meaningless and irredeemable if death is the ultimate purpose. I remembered one evening I was sitting on a hill overlooking the port city Debuque, watching the sun setting on Mississippi River; it dawned on me that in the grand scheme of things life never ceases to exist. As sun will rise again in tomorrow, life will rise again from death and transcend it.
Some years later, my mom came to my dream soon after my baptism, we had a vivid conversation that I still remember today. She told me exactly the same thing I read in the scripture - “It is the same way with the resurrection of the dead. Our earthly bodies are planted in the ground when we die, but they will be raised to live forever. Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory. They are buried in weakness, but they will be raised in strength. They are buried as natural human bodies, but they will be raised as spiritual bodies.” (1 Corinthians 15:42-57)
Looking back, I can say my spiritual awakening was born from her death.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
10分钟！
在我6岁以前的记忆中，我不记得自己认字读书。 在那个时代的幼儿园里，我们有的是强迫的午睡，无尽的玩耍时间。到我女儿的时代，她在学前班就开始认字了，家里更是成架的儿童图书。尽管如此，做父母的恐惧还是怕她落在人后，恨不得她能学每一样才艺，读书写字都比人强。 看看周围的孩子，确实是有这样超强的孩子，我们团契有6岁就能读圣经的孩子，她班上的韩国女孩，写的句子都没有一点拼写问题。想了一段时间，似乎我唯一能做的就是每天每个主题抽10分钟的时间帮她练习， 因为我相信熟能生巧，勤能补拙，铁杵磨针。
10分钟！
10分钟！
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
和女儿吃午餐
和女儿吃午餐
2010-10-02 15:15:52
女儿央求了好几次，“妈咪，你什么时候来学校和我一起吃午餐。”这个周五，终于挤出时间11点多赶到学校。门口签到的时候，注意到签到本上已经有10多个家长的签名，果然，走廊里还有提着外卖便当的家长，也有爷爷奶奶样子的。看来，和小朋友一起吃午饭的家长还不少。
女儿的班级已经在食堂里来吃了，她和四个女孩坐在靠窗的条桌上，看见我来，高兴地飞跑过来给我一个熊抱。我东张西望，发现女儿班的S老师不在食堂，有2，3个不认识的老师在。原来班主任有自己的午餐时间。看看女儿的盘子，里面有一个玉米狗，一个小苹果和一小盒桔子汁。自己拿了盘子去柜台一看，东西还很多，除了玉米狗，主食还有小鸡快，皮萨包，副食有青豆，土豆泥，水果还有草莓，香蕉，饮料还有牛奶，苹果汁等。柜台后的服务员告诉我还有金枪鱼三文治，估计是给我这样的家长预备的。拿了吃的去结账，服务员找到女儿的卡刷上，一共3块钱。
坐在女儿边上，她的小朋友都围过来，七嘴八舌跟我打招呼，我看到有的孩子盘子里放了不少东西，女儿吃的实在太少了！再看他们吃饭的样子，和聚餐会上的大人们一样，连吃带聊的，嘴不带闲着的。10分钟后，老师打铃，女儿说午休时间到了，胡乱啃了几口玉米狗，就跟小朋友跑了，剩在盘子里的还有大半个苹果和小半截玉米狗。旁边还有几个孩子的盘子里也还有好多食物。
真是不吃不知道，一吃吓一跳，原来女儿的午餐有这么多的问题。下午去接她的时候，我赶紧嘱咐她，除了主食，果汁，水果以外，每天还要拿一个蔬菜和一盒牛奶；吃饭的时候不要光顾着和小朋友玩。同时自己心想，看来光靠食堂是不行的，还是得给她带午餐，至少一周2次。
2010-10-02 15:15:52
女儿央求了好几次，“妈咪，你什么时候来学校和我一起吃午餐。”这个周五，终于挤出时间11点多赶到学校。门口签到的时候，注意到签到本上已经有10多个家长的签名，果然，走廊里还有提着外卖便当的家长，也有爷爷奶奶样子的。看来，和小朋友一起吃午饭的家长还不少。
女儿的班级已经在食堂里来吃了，她和四个女孩坐在靠窗的条桌上，看见我来，高兴地飞跑过来给我一个熊抱。我东张西望，发现女儿班的S老师不在食堂，有2，3个不认识的老师在。原来班主任有自己的午餐时间。看看女儿的盘子，里面有一个玉米狗，一个小苹果和一小盒桔子汁。自己拿了盘子去柜台一看，东西还很多，除了玉米狗，主食还有小鸡快，皮萨包，副食有青豆，土豆泥，水果还有草莓，香蕉，饮料还有牛奶，苹果汁等。柜台后的服务员告诉我还有金枪鱼三文治，估计是给我这样的家长预备的。拿了吃的去结账，服务员找到女儿的卡刷上，一共3块钱。
坐在女儿边上，她的小朋友都围过来，七嘴八舌跟我打招呼，我看到有的孩子盘子里放了不少东西，女儿吃的实在太少了！再看他们吃饭的样子，和聚餐会上的大人们一样，连吃带聊的，嘴不带闲着的。10分钟后，老师打铃，女儿说午休时间到了，胡乱啃了几口玉米狗，就跟小朋友跑了，剩在盘子里的还有大半个苹果和小半截玉米狗。旁边还有几个孩子的盘子里也还有好多食物。
真是不吃不知道，一吃吓一跳，原来女儿的午餐有这么多的问题。下午去接她的时候，我赶紧嘱咐她，除了主食，果汁，水果以外，每天还要拿一个蔬菜和一盒牛奶；吃饭的时候不要光顾着和小朋友玩。同时自己心想，看来光靠食堂是不行的，还是得给她带午餐，至少一周2次。
班妈的第一次
班妈的第一次
2010-09-25 01:59:56
第一次做班妈，一头雾水，幸好有做过好几次的伊琳带路，就高高兴兴给她打下手了。
上周四晚上她打电话来说，刚发现S老师的生日就是下个礼拜，我们得赶快动起来给她操办一个意外祝生会。她想好了给老师的礼物，明天S老师刚好不在，我们可以把她的礼物准备好。
第二天去学校和她碰头，她带来了几包色彩鲜亮的法兰绒布料，她的点子是给老师做一条可以放在摇椅上的毯子。我们两人在学校食堂铺开布料，胶布，剪刀上阵，一会儿工夫，两块布料就合成了一条带流苏的毯子。趁着午后教室的安静时间，我们来到教室，让孩子们给毯子的流苏打结，孩子们轮流上阵，有的不知如何下手，有的一下就结了好几个，有的把结打错了地方。。。最后伊琳给全班照了合影，说可以用在生日蛋糕上，临走时告诉大家：“嘘，记住这是个秘密，千万别跟S老师说。”
今天下午意外祝生会如期举行，我们挑了S老师带孩子们课间休息的时间来到教室。好几个妈妈也来了，有的带了气球，盘子，咸零食和水果。我们的大蛋糕上是全班级的照片。S老师带孩子们进来的时候果然有点吃惊，大概没想到这么多家长都来了。伊琳心思慎密，除了蛋糕，还把全班级的照片装在了镜框里给对S老师，看得出来她很开心。等到打开班级礼物的时候，S老师对流苏毯子也爱不释手，好几个妈妈来询问是怎么做的。更开心的是孩子们，拉着自己的妈妈，吃着美味的蛋糕，一个美好的下午。我这个新手也从这个意外祝生会上学到了很多东西。
2010-09-25 01:59:56
第一次做班妈，一头雾水，幸好有做过好几次的伊琳带路，就高高兴兴给她打下手了。
上周四晚上她打电话来说，刚发现S老师的生日就是下个礼拜，我们得赶快动起来给她操办一个意外祝生会。她想好了给老师的礼物，明天S老师刚好不在，我们可以把她的礼物准备好。
第二天去学校和她碰头，她带来了几包色彩鲜亮的法兰绒布料，她的点子是给老师做一条可以放在摇椅上的毯子。我们两人在学校食堂铺开布料，胶布，剪刀上阵，一会儿工夫，两块布料就合成了一条带流苏的毯子。趁着午后教室的安静时间，我们来到教室，让孩子们给毯子的流苏打结，孩子们轮流上阵，有的不知如何下手，有的一下就结了好几个，有的把结打错了地方。。。最后伊琳给全班照了合影，说可以用在生日蛋糕上，临走时告诉大家：“嘘，记住这是个秘密，千万别跟S老师说。”
今天下午意外祝生会如期举行，我们挑了S老师带孩子们课间休息的时间来到教室。好几个妈妈也来了，有的带了气球，盘子，咸零食和水果。我们的大蛋糕上是全班级的照片。S老师带孩子们进来的时候果然有点吃惊，大概没想到这么多家长都来了。伊琳心思慎密，除了蛋糕，还把全班级的照片装在了镜框里给对S老师，看得出来她很开心。等到打开班级礼物的时候，S老师对流苏毯子也爱不释手，好几个妈妈来询问是怎么做的。更开心的是孩子们，拉着自己的妈妈，吃着美味的蛋糕，一个美好的下午。我这个新手也从这个意外祝生会上学到了很多东西。
My Mentoring Group
My Mentoring Group
2010-09-03 13:26:25
Finally got to meet with my mentoring group first time today. Ben is a young guy with a baby face. He must have spent some time thinking what to wear today, a navy blue strip suit without a tie, not too stuck-up, not too casual. Russ doesn't look like a corporate big wig but some nerd. His life experience is quite fascinating, somehow resembles the last episode of season 3 MAD Men. I can tell he is a devout Christian from his homeschooling 14 year old son. He used to riding the waves of internet revolution but now sitting at a corner office of this company with inspiration of becoming a SVP.
2010-09-03 13:26:25
Finally got to meet with my mentoring group first time today. Ben is a young guy with a baby face. He must have spent some time thinking what to wear today, a navy blue strip suit without a tie, not too stuck-up, not too casual. Russ doesn't look like a corporate big wig but some nerd. His life experience is quite fascinating, somehow resembles the last episode of season 3 MAD Men. I can tell he is a devout Christian from his homeschooling 14 year old son. He used to riding the waves of internet revolution but now sitting at a corner office of this company with inspiration of becoming a SVP.
“黑暗年代”杂想
中国人说，“天不生仲尼，亘古如长夜”。每次碰到言必称希腊，罗马的人，我就知道亘古长夜要出现了。自启蒙运动以来，我们所知道的中世纪欧洲就是在这样的亘古长夜中，这样的认识在中国的知识界是真理无疑。 我周围的很多人，特别是有反宗教倾向的，更把天主教会归结为黑暗的源头。这样的论断，在我看来至少有以下的几个问题，
1. 希腊，罗马的衰亡，对应的是穆斯林黄金时代的开始，还有中国的汉唐盛世，就好像此番唱毕我登场，人类文明并没有在亘古长夜中停滞或后退。中世纪的欧洲“黑暗”了，别的地方又亮起来了。
2. 希腊，罗马的古典文化或政治，社会体制如果有强大的生命力，远比他落后的蛮族的入侵如何能让这个巨大的帝国毁于一旦？ 熟悉罗马历史的，都知道尼禄皇帝的骄奢淫逸和当时败坏的社会风俗，这难道不是“但以理书”中所说泥足的金铜巨人。 一个文化如不进化更新，最终的结局不外腐朽衰败。基督教的兴起不过是一块犀利的飞石，击打在这巨人的泥足上，让他跌倒粉碎，就如大卫击打歌利亚一般。
3. 中世纪天主教会的沉疴，不在它断绝了希腊，罗马的传统，而在于它不能隔断这样的传统与风俗，当神权与世俗掺杂，就使芥菜种子长成了参天大树。 天主教会不是吼叫的狮子，而是被吞噬的。
不论是文艺复兴或是后来的启蒙运动，不过是不同时代的文化对于自己所面临的挑战的回应。远古的火种被用来重新点燃人类的文明，这重生的光彩照亮了后来的世纪。 但是就如这之前的所有的世代一样，这样的光彩必不能持久，它必衰微，最终新的文明会从它的灰烬中重生。
这就是“传道书”中所说的
凡 事 都 有 定 期 ， 天 下 万 务 都 有 定 时 。
生 有 时 ， 死 有 时 ； 栽 种 有 时 ， 拔 出 所 栽 种 的 也 有 时 ；
杀 戮 有 时 ， 医 治 有 时 ； 拆 毁 有 时 ， 建 造 有 时 ；
哭 有 时 ， 笑 有 时 ； 哀 恸 有 时 ， 跳 舞 有 时 ；
抛 掷 石 头 有 时 ， 堆 聚 石 头 有 时 ； 怀 抱 有 时 ， 不 怀 抱 有 时 ；
寻 找 有 时 ， 失 落 有 时 ； 保 守 有 时 ， 舍 弃 有 时 ；
撕 裂 有 时 ， 缝 补 有 时 ； 静 默 有 时 ， 言 语 有 时 ；
喜 爱 有 时 ， 恨 恶 有 时 ； 争 战 有 时 ， 和 好 有 时 。
这 样 看 来 ， 做 事 的 人 在 他 的 劳 碌 上 有 甚 麽 益 处 呢 ？
我 见 神 叫 世 人 劳 苦 ， 使 他 们 在 其 中 受 经 练 。
神 造 万 物 ， 各 按 其 时 成 为 美 好 ， 又 将 永 生 （ 原 文 是 永 远 ） 安 置 在 世 人 心 里 。 然 而 神 从 始 至 终 的 作 为 ， 人 不 能 参 透 。
我 知 道 世 人 ， 莫 强 如 终 身 喜 乐 行 善 ；
并 且 人 人 吃 喝 ， 在 他 一 切 劳 碌 中 享 福 ， 这 也 是 神 的 恩 赐 。
我 知 道 神 一 切 所 做 的 都 必 永 存 ； 无 所 增 添 ， 无 所 减 少 。 神 这 样 行 ， 是 要 人 在 他 面 前 存 敬 畏 的 心 。
现 今 的 事 早 先 就 有 了 ， 将 来 的 事 早 已 也 有 了 ， 并 且 神 使 已 过 的 事 重 新 再 来 。
1. 希腊，罗马的衰亡，对应的是穆斯林黄金时代的开始，还有中国的汉唐盛世，就好像此番唱毕我登场，人类文明并没有在亘古长夜中停滞或后退。中世纪的欧洲“黑暗”了，别的地方又亮起来了。
2. 希腊，罗马的古典文化或政治，社会体制如果有强大的生命力，远比他落后的蛮族的入侵如何能让这个巨大的帝国毁于一旦？ 熟悉罗马历史的，都知道尼禄皇帝的骄奢淫逸和当时败坏的社会风俗，这难道不是“但以理书”中所说泥足的金铜巨人。 一个文化如不进化更新，最终的结局不外腐朽衰败。基督教的兴起不过是一块犀利的飞石，击打在这巨人的泥足上，让他跌倒粉碎，就如大卫击打歌利亚一般。
3. 中世纪天主教会的沉疴，不在它断绝了希腊，罗马的传统，而在于它不能隔断这样的传统与风俗，当神权与世俗掺杂，就使芥菜种子长成了参天大树。 天主教会不是吼叫的狮子，而是被吞噬的。
不论是文艺复兴或是后来的启蒙运动，不过是不同时代的文化对于自己所面临的挑战的回应。远古的火种被用来重新点燃人类的文明，这重生的光彩照亮了后来的世纪。 但是就如这之前的所有的世代一样，这样的光彩必不能持久，它必衰微，最终新的文明会从它的灰烬中重生。
这就是“传道书”中所说的
凡 事 都 有 定 期 ， 天 下 万 务 都 有 定 时 。
生 有 时 ， 死 有 时 ； 栽 种 有 时 ， 拔 出 所 栽 种 的 也 有 时 ；
杀 戮 有 时 ， 医 治 有 时 ； 拆 毁 有 时 ， 建 造 有 时 ；
哭 有 时 ， 笑 有 时 ； 哀 恸 有 时 ， 跳 舞 有 时 ；
抛 掷 石 头 有 时 ， 堆 聚 石 头 有 时 ； 怀 抱 有 时 ， 不 怀 抱 有 时 ；
寻 找 有 时 ， 失 落 有 时 ； 保 守 有 时 ， 舍 弃 有 时 ；
撕 裂 有 时 ， 缝 补 有 时 ； 静 默 有 时 ， 言 语 有 时 ；
喜 爱 有 时 ， 恨 恶 有 时 ； 争 战 有 时 ， 和 好 有 时 。
这 样 看 来 ， 做 事 的 人 在 他 的 劳 碌 上 有 甚 麽 益 处 呢 ？
我 见 神 叫 世 人 劳 苦 ， 使 他 们 在 其 中 受 经 练 。
神 造 万 物 ， 各 按 其 时 成 为 美 好 ， 又 将 永 生 （ 原 文 是 永 远 ） 安 置 在 世 人 心 里 。 然 而 神 从 始 至 终 的 作 为 ， 人 不 能 参 透 。
我 知 道 世 人 ， 莫 强 如 终 身 喜 乐 行 善 ；
并 且 人 人 吃 喝 ， 在 他 一 切 劳 碌 中 享 福 ， 这 也 是 神 的 恩 赐 。
我 知 道 神 一 切 所 做 的 都 必 永 存 ； 无 所 增 添 ， 无 所 减 少 。 神 这 样 行 ， 是 要 人 在 他 面 前 存 敬 畏 的 心 。
现 今 的 事 早 先 就 有 了 ， 将 来 的 事 早 已 也 有 了 ， 并 且 神 使 已 过 的 事 重 新 再 来 。
Friday, October 08, 2010
“Last Letter” by Ted Hughes
What happened that night? Your final night.
Double, treble exposure
Over everything. Late afternoon, Friday,
My last sight of you alive.
Burning your letter to me, in the ashtray,
With that strange smile. Had I bungled your plan?
Had it surprised me sooner than you purposed?
Had I rushed it back to you too promptly?
One hour later—-you would have been gone
Where I could not have traced you.
I would have turned from your locked red door
That nobody would open
Still holding your letter,
A thunderbolt that could not earth itself.
That would have been electric shock treatment
For me.
Repeated over and over, all weekend,
As often as I read it, or thought of it.
That would have remade my brains, and my life.
The treatment that you planned needed some time.
I cannot imagine
How I would have got through that weekend.
I cannot imagine. Had you plotted it all?
Your note reached me too soon—-that same day,
Friday afternoon, posted in the morning.
The prevalent devils expedited it.
That was one more straw of ill-luck
Drawn against you by the Post-Office
And added to your load. I moved fast,
Through the snow-blue, February, London twilight.
Wept with relief when you opened the door.
A huddle of riddles in solution. Precocious tears
That failed to interpret to me, failed to divulge
Their real import. But what did you say
Over the smoking shards of that letter
So carefully annihilated, so calmly,
That let me release you, and leave you
To blow its ashes off your plan—-off the ashtray
Against which you would lean for me to read
The Doctor’s phone-number.
My escape
Had become such a hunted thing
Sleepless, hopeless, all its dreams exhausted,
Only wanting to be recaptured, only
Wanting to drop, out of its vacuum.
Two days of dangling nothing. Two days gratis.
Two days in no calendar, but stolen
From no world,
Beyond actuality, feeling, or name.
My love-life grabbed it. My numbed love-life
With its two mad needles,
Embroidering their rose, piercing and tugging
At their tapestry, their bloody tattoo
Somewhere behind my navel,
Treading that morass of emblazon,
Two mad needles, criss-crossing their stitches,
Selecting among my nerves
For their colours, refashioning me
Inside my own skin, each refashioning the other
With their self-caricatures,
Their obsessed in and out. Two women
Each with her needle.
That night
My dellarobbia Susan. I moved
With the circumspection
Of a flame in a fuse. My whole fury
Was an abandoned effort to blow up
The old globe where shadows bent over
My telltale track of ashes. I raced
From and from, face backwards, a film reversed,
Towards what? We went to Rugby St
Where you and I began.
Why did we go there? Of all places
Why did we go there? Perversity
In the artistry of our fate
Adjusted its refinements for you, for me
And for Susan. Solitaire
Played by the Minotaur of that maze
Even included Helen, in the ground-floor flat.
You had noted her—-a girl for a story.
You never met her. Few ever met her,
Except across the ears and raving mask
Of her Alsatian. You had not even glimpsed her.
You had only recoiled
When her demented animal crashed its weight
Against her door, as we slipped through the hallway;
And heard it choking on infinite German hatred.
That Sunday night she eased her door open
Its few permitted inches.
Susan greeted the black eyes, the unhappy
Overweight, lovely face, that peeped out
Across the little chain. The door closed.
We heard her consoling her jailor
Inside her cell, its kennel, where, days later,
She gassed her ferocious kupo, and herself.
Susan and I spent that night
In our wedding bed. I had not seen it
Since we lay there on our wedding day.
I did not take her back to my own bed.
It had occurred to me, your weekend over,
You might appear—-a surprise visitation.
Did you appear, to tap at my dark window?
So I stayed with Susan, hiding from you,
In our own wedding bed—-the same from which
Within three years she would be taken to die
In that same hospital where, within twelve hours,
I would find you dead.
Monday morning
I drove her to work, in the City,
Then parked my van North of Euston Road
And returned to where my telephone waited.
What happened that night, inside your hours,
Is as unknown as if it never happened.
What accumulation of your whole life,
Like effort unconscious, like birth
Pushing through the membrane of each slow second
Into the next, happened
Only as if it could not happen,
As if it was not happening. How often
Did the phone ring there in my empty room,
You hearing the ring in your receiver—-
At both ends the fading memory
Of a telephone ringing, in a brain
As if already dead. I count
How often you walked to the phone-booth
At the bottom of St George’s terrace.
You are there whenever I look, just turning
Out of Fitzroy Road, crossing over
Between the heaped up banks of dirty sugar.
In your long black coat,
With your plait coiled up at the back of your hair
You walk unable to move, or wake, and are
Already nobody walking
Walking by the railings under Primrose Hill
Towards the phone booth that can never be reached.
Before midnight. After midnight. Again.
Again. Again. And, near dawn, again.
At what position of the hands on my watch-face
Did your last attempt,
Already deeply past
My being able to hear it, shake the pillow
Of that empty bed? A last time
Lightly touch at my books, and my papers?
By the time I got there my phone was asleep.
The pillow innocent. My room slept,
Already filled with the snowlit morning light.
I lit my fire. I had got out my papers.
And I had started to write when the telephone
Jerked awake, in a jabbering alarm,
Remembering everything. It recovered in my hand.
Then a voice like a selected weapon
Or a measured injection,
Coolly delivered its four words
Deep into my ear: ‘Your wife is dead.’
Double, treble exposure
Over everything. Late afternoon, Friday,
My last sight of you alive.
Burning your letter to me, in the ashtray,
With that strange smile. Had I bungled your plan?
Had it surprised me sooner than you purposed?
Had I rushed it back to you too promptly?
One hour later—-you would have been gone
Where I could not have traced you.
I would have turned from your locked red door
That nobody would open
Still holding your letter,
A thunderbolt that could not earth itself.
That would have been electric shock treatment
For me.
Repeated over and over, all weekend,
As often as I read it, or thought of it.
That would have remade my brains, and my life.
The treatment that you planned needed some time.
I cannot imagine
How I would have got through that weekend.
I cannot imagine. Had you plotted it all?
Your note reached me too soon—-that same day,
Friday afternoon, posted in the morning.
The prevalent devils expedited it.
That was one more straw of ill-luck
Drawn against you by the Post-Office
And added to your load. I moved fast,
Through the snow-blue, February, London twilight.
Wept with relief when you opened the door.
A huddle of riddles in solution. Precocious tears
That failed to interpret to me, failed to divulge
Their real import. But what did you say
Over the smoking shards of that letter
So carefully annihilated, so calmly,
That let me release you, and leave you
To blow its ashes off your plan—-off the ashtray
Against which you would lean for me to read
The Doctor’s phone-number.
My escape
Had become such a hunted thing
Sleepless, hopeless, all its dreams exhausted,
Only wanting to be recaptured, only
Wanting to drop, out of its vacuum.
Two days of dangling nothing. Two days gratis.
Two days in no calendar, but stolen
From no world,
Beyond actuality, feeling, or name.
My love-life grabbed it. My numbed love-life
With its two mad needles,
Embroidering their rose, piercing and tugging
At their tapestry, their bloody tattoo
Somewhere behind my navel,
Treading that morass of emblazon,
Two mad needles, criss-crossing their stitches,
Selecting among my nerves
For their colours, refashioning me
Inside my own skin, each refashioning the other
With their self-caricatures,
Their obsessed in and out. Two women
Each with her needle.
That night
My dellarobbia Susan. I moved
With the circumspection
Of a flame in a fuse. My whole fury
Was an abandoned effort to blow up
The old globe where shadows bent over
My telltale track of ashes. I raced
From and from, face backwards, a film reversed,
Towards what? We went to Rugby St
Where you and I began.
Why did we go there? Of all places
Why did we go there? Perversity
In the artistry of our fate
Adjusted its refinements for you, for me
And for Susan. Solitaire
Played by the Minotaur of that maze
Even included Helen, in the ground-floor flat.
You had noted her—-a girl for a story.
You never met her. Few ever met her,
Except across the ears and raving mask
Of her Alsatian. You had not even glimpsed her.
You had only recoiled
When her demented animal crashed its weight
Against her door, as we slipped through the hallway;
And heard it choking on infinite German hatred.
That Sunday night she eased her door open
Its few permitted inches.
Susan greeted the black eyes, the unhappy
Overweight, lovely face, that peeped out
Across the little chain. The door closed.
We heard her consoling her jailor
Inside her cell, its kennel, where, days later,
She gassed her ferocious kupo, and herself.
Susan and I spent that night
In our wedding bed. I had not seen it
Since we lay there on our wedding day.
I did not take her back to my own bed.
It had occurred to me, your weekend over,
You might appear—-a surprise visitation.
Did you appear, to tap at my dark window?
So I stayed with Susan, hiding from you,
In our own wedding bed—-the same from which
Within three years she would be taken to die
In that same hospital where, within twelve hours,
I would find you dead.
Monday morning
I drove her to work, in the City,
Then parked my van North of Euston Road
And returned to where my telephone waited.
What happened that night, inside your hours,
Is as unknown as if it never happened.
What accumulation of your whole life,
Like effort unconscious, like birth
Pushing through the membrane of each slow second
Into the next, happened
Only as if it could not happen,
As if it was not happening. How often
Did the phone ring there in my empty room,
You hearing the ring in your receiver—-
At both ends the fading memory
Of a telephone ringing, in a brain
As if already dead. I count
How often you walked to the phone-booth
At the bottom of St George’s terrace.
You are there whenever I look, just turning
Out of Fitzroy Road, crossing over
Between the heaped up banks of dirty sugar.
In your long black coat,
With your plait coiled up at the back of your hair
You walk unable to move, or wake, and are
Already nobody walking
Walking by the railings under Primrose Hill
Towards the phone booth that can never be reached.
Before midnight. After midnight. Again.
Again. Again. And, near dawn, again.
At what position of the hands on my watch-face
Did your last attempt,
Already deeply past
My being able to hear it, shake the pillow
Of that empty bed? A last time
Lightly touch at my books, and my papers?
By the time I got there my phone was asleep.
The pillow innocent. My room slept,
Already filled with the snowlit morning light.
I lit my fire. I had got out my papers.
And I had started to write when the telephone
Jerked awake, in a jabbering alarm,
Remembering everything. It recovered in my hand.
Then a voice like a selected weapon
Or a measured injection,
Coolly delivered its four words
Deep into my ear: ‘Your wife is dead.’
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Last victim of a harsh winter
M started coughing and running nose on Tuesday, March 23rd, just like her sister E. On Friday, 26th, she started having a high fever, around 103.5. It lasted till Monday, 29th when K finally took her to doctor office. She was listless, breathing rapidly. Her doctor suspected pneumonia and admitted her to hospital right away.
March 29th, Monday
Chest X ray indicated no pneumonia. Nose swap came back with RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus). Her respiratory rate was so high, above 100 most of the time. They hooked her up with oxygen. I fed her half can of meat and carrot in the evening.
March 30th, Tuesday
Her fever persists, as well as the high respiratory rate. Did a second chest X ray. It still showed no signs of pneumonia. She was getting nose suctions and respiratory treatments every 4 hours. But the respiratory rate was still very high. The attending doctor decided to transfer her to the main campus of the hospital at downtown to be near to NICU.
March 31st, Wednesday
No sign of improvement. She had some pediaSure and was later put on Nasogastric Tube (ng). They did urine and blood culture. Nothing came back abnormal. The attending doctor sought out the opinion of the infectious disease team. They suggested a test for mycoplasma pneumonia. I gave her a sponge bath in the evening, her chubby cheek was no more, just two big eyes left. Not long after the bath, she felt so warm. It turned out her temperature spiked to 104.6.
April 1st, Thursday
No sign of improvement. Doctor was also puzzled by the prolonged fever. Two more tests were done for a different kind of respiratory viral and pertussis whooping cough. They started treat her with antibiotic zithromax.
April 2nd, Friday
At last something happened. Her last fever was 1 am. I started to notice she had more energy and even sat up a little bit. But she was still coughing a lot.
April 3rd, Saturday
No fever for 24 hours! But still coughing. She had the 3rd chest X ray. It came back normal. Other kids came to see her for the first time after we transferred here. I even took 2 hours off to eat dinner with the rest of the gang. Her mycoplasma test came back normal, and WBC was back to normal level. Doctor says if her respiratory rate can keep in 40 to 50, then we might start thinking going home. They took off her IV in the evening.
April 4th, Sunday
Her respiratory rate was at 50-60 level over the night. Spoon fed her some milk in the morning and she was doing well. They took off her monitors probes, ng and oxygen. If nothing goes wrong, we should go home tomorrow. :)
Looking back, the kids have been sick a lot since late November. It was a long and cold winter, we had the most snow I have ever seen since I lived here for 10 years. M was doing pretty well until this time. We didn’t expect her illness became so serious. Wish we could have had more effective home quarantine procedures when the older ones got sick.
March 29th, Monday
Chest X ray indicated no pneumonia. Nose swap came back with RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus). Her respiratory rate was so high, above 100 most of the time. They hooked her up with oxygen. I fed her half can of meat and carrot in the evening.
March 30th, Tuesday
Her fever persists, as well as the high respiratory rate. Did a second chest X ray. It still showed no signs of pneumonia. She was getting nose suctions and respiratory treatments every 4 hours. But the respiratory rate was still very high. The attending doctor decided to transfer her to the main campus of the hospital at downtown to be near to NICU.
March 31st, Wednesday
No sign of improvement. She had some pediaSure and was later put on Nasogastric Tube (ng). They did urine and blood culture. Nothing came back abnormal. The attending doctor sought out the opinion of the infectious disease team. They suggested a test for mycoplasma pneumonia. I gave her a sponge bath in the evening, her chubby cheek was no more, just two big eyes left. Not long after the bath, she felt so warm. It turned out her temperature spiked to 104.6.
April 1st, Thursday
No sign of improvement. Doctor was also puzzled by the prolonged fever. Two more tests were done for a different kind of respiratory viral and pertussis whooping cough. They started treat her with antibiotic zithromax.
April 2nd, Friday
At last something happened. Her last fever was 1 am. I started to notice she had more energy and even sat up a little bit. But she was still coughing a lot.
April 3rd, Saturday
No fever for 24 hours! But still coughing. She had the 3rd chest X ray. It came back normal. Other kids came to see her for the first time after we transferred here. I even took 2 hours off to eat dinner with the rest of the gang. Her mycoplasma test came back normal, and WBC was back to normal level. Doctor says if her respiratory rate can keep in 40 to 50, then we might start thinking going home. They took off her IV in the evening.
April 4th, Sunday
Her respiratory rate was at 50-60 level over the night. Spoon fed her some milk in the morning and she was doing well. They took off her monitors probes, ng and oxygen. If nothing goes wrong, we should go home tomorrow. :)
Looking back, the kids have been sick a lot since late November. It was a long and cold winter, we had the most snow I have ever seen since I lived here for 10 years. M was doing pretty well until this time. We didn’t expect her illness became so serious. Wish we could have had more effective home quarantine procedures when the older ones got sick.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
60年代的摇滚
晚上当地的公共电视台在集资，放的是爱德-沙利文秀里的摇滚乐队演出。 黑白的画面，衣着正统而拘谨的英国乐队，古怪的发型和奇怪的表情，还有那些熟悉的旋律。
Talking about British Invasion... 这首“朝阳屋”虽是Animals唱红的，Bob Dylan和Nina Simone也都有自己的版本。
House Of The Rising Sun
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one
My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new bluejeans
My father was a gamblin' man
Down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
------ organ solo ------
Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun
Well, I got one foot on the platform
The other foot on the train
I'm goin' back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
Well, there is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one
听到Happy Together时， 我儿子和女儿都跟着摇摆起来。
100 Greatest Rock 'n‘ Roll Songs in 60s
http://digitaldreamdoor.nutsie.com/pages/best_songs60s.html
Talking about British Invasion... 这首“朝阳屋”虽是Animals唱红的，Bob Dylan和Nina Simone也都有自己的版本。
House Of The Rising Sun
There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one
My mother was a tailor
She sewed my new bluejeans
My father was a gamblin' man
Down in New Orleans
Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and trunk
And the only time he's satisfied
Is when he's on a drunk
------ organ solo ------
Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun
Well, I got one foot on the platform
The other foot on the train
I'm goin' back to New Orleans
To wear that ball and chain
Well, there is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one
听到Happy Together时， 我儿子和女儿都跟着摇摆起来。
100 Greatest Rock 'n‘ Roll Songs in 60s
http://digitaldreamdoor.nutsie.com/pages/best_songs60s.html
Sunday, March 14, 2010
日出之前 日落之前
第一次看林科雷特的“日出之前”时，竟然勾起了久违的甜蜜感伤心情，两个青涩男女，在维也纳的黄昏与夜幕中漫游漫谈，从陌生到相知，相爱，最后在日出之前告别，令人不禁想起在大学校园中情愫初开时，自己也曾经这样漫游与漫谈过，相知与相爱过。揣测，暗示，调侃，告白，从来没有一部电影把恋爱过程中语言的功用表现得如此淋漓尽致，男女之间的渴望可以如此在各种话题中肆意沉浮。
8年之后，这两个不再青涩的男女在巴黎重逢，在午后的巴黎再次漫游漫谈。8年前的邂逅虽然只是一次偶然，可是他们的人生确实为彼此改变了。 掩饰，追悔，遗憾，希望，也许原来那次邂逅也可能有不同的结局，在日落之前。
有的电影值得反复回味，林科雷特的这两部电影就是。
8年之后，这两个不再青涩的男女在巴黎重逢，在午后的巴黎再次漫游漫谈。8年前的邂逅虽然只是一次偶然，可是他们的人生确实为彼此改变了。 掩饰，追悔，遗憾，希望，也许原来那次邂逅也可能有不同的结局，在日落之前。
有的电影值得反复回味，林科雷特的这两部电影就是。
丹布朗 -- 失去的符号
周末不眠不休，把丹布朗的“失去的符号” 看完了。
读后感 --
电影化的叙事 -- 叙事结构完全是按电影的场景转接来的，一个章回一个场景，从A跳到B, 再到C, 再回到A. 难怪全书有133章。 将来改编成电影的时候省事了，删掉n个章回就行了。
一个坏人一台戏 -- 孤独的刺青人，是达芬奇密码里白化人的升级版。 看到三分之一时我就猜出这人的身份了，布朗还要撑到最后才抖包袱，低估读者的智力。 最有趣的是刺青人灵魂出壳后的意识描写。 有一个片断让我想起牛氓对蒙泰理利的最后告白，不过布朗的功力实在太差，白白浪费了这样的闪光时刻。
符号学, 神学，思维科学一锅煮 -- 从古埃及，希腊，罗马到新大陆； 从培根，牛顿，到华盛顿； 从玛雅历法，到摩西五经，新约， 可兰经，佛经，摩门经； 布朗罗列了好多有趣的传说，史籍。 外行看热闹， 无从分清正伪。 这锅汤的主要原料是共济会，基督教和华盛顿特区。
古老的秘密是 -- 全书抓人眼球的就是这“古老的秘密”，最后揭秘的原来是众所周知的事实。
看完书，发现布朗原来是自然神论者，D.C的旅游业将迈上新台阶。
读后感 --
电影化的叙事 -- 叙事结构完全是按电影的场景转接来的，一个章回一个场景，从A跳到B, 再到C, 再回到A. 难怪全书有133章。 将来改编成电影的时候省事了，删掉n个章回就行了。
一个坏人一台戏 -- 孤独的刺青人，是达芬奇密码里白化人的升级版。 看到三分之一时我就猜出这人的身份了，布朗还要撑到最后才抖包袱，低估读者的智力。 最有趣的是刺青人灵魂出壳后的意识描写。 有一个片断让我想起牛氓对蒙泰理利的最后告白，不过布朗的功力实在太差，白白浪费了这样的闪光时刻。
符号学, 神学，思维科学一锅煮 -- 从古埃及，希腊，罗马到新大陆； 从培根，牛顿，到华盛顿； 从玛雅历法，到摩西五经，新约， 可兰经，佛经，摩门经； 布朗罗列了好多有趣的传说，史籍。 外行看热闹， 无从分清正伪。 这锅汤的主要原料是共济会，基督教和华盛顿特区。
古老的秘密是 -- 全书抓人眼球的就是这“古老的秘密”，最后揭秘的原来是众所周知的事实。
看完书，发现布朗原来是自然神论者，D.C的旅游业将迈上新台阶。
旧书市
社区的图书馆每年要举行两次旧书市，把一些旧书拿出来作价处理，精装1块，平装5毛。今年的书市是在一个购物中心，中午没吃午饭就赶过去，往日萧条的购物中心前已停满了车。购物中心的井字走廊里弥漫着好闻的旧书气味，中间排满了长条桌，上面五颜六色的书码得整整齐齐的，人们挎着购物袋，拖着小推车，婴儿车，甚至行李箱顺着长桌缓缓地移动着，一脸专著满足。书市上的书很多都还崭新，一不小心，自己的纸盒子就快满了。只好一再提醒自己未来是数码书的时代，家里也没有地方放这么多的书。转眼就1点多了，才逛了一半，只好忍痛回去上班。
我去过的第一个书市也是文革后KM的第一个书市，那天早上一手攥着所有的零花钱，早早来到了翠湖展览馆，一看门外面已经聚集了几百号人。 门一开，人们就冲锋一样，我们这样的小孩子在人群中被挤得东倒西歪，跌跌撞撞进到大厅，看到各个展台上码放整齐的新书，散发着油墨纸张的香气，不由得瞳孔放大，心跳加速。说是买书，其实是抢书，我抢到了“简爱”，“呼啸山庄”，“红与黑”，“战争与和平”。那是我攒书的开始。此后每个月父母给的零花钱都贡献给了书店， 到中学毕业到外省读书时，我已攒了300多本中外名著。书市后来去了无数个，每次都恨钱不够花，不过再没有第一次那种腾云驾雾的感觉。
我去过的第一个书市也是文革后KM的第一个书市，那天早上一手攥着所有的零花钱，早早来到了翠湖展览馆，一看门外面已经聚集了几百号人。 门一开，人们就冲锋一样，我们这样的小孩子在人群中被挤得东倒西歪，跌跌撞撞进到大厅，看到各个展台上码放整齐的新书，散发着油墨纸张的香气，不由得瞳孔放大，心跳加速。说是买书，其实是抢书，我抢到了“简爱”，“呼啸山庄”，“红与黑”，“战争与和平”。那是我攒书的开始。此后每个月父母给的零花钱都贡献给了书店， 到中学毕业到外省读书时，我已攒了300多本中外名著。书市后来去了无数个，每次都恨钱不够花，不过再没有第一次那种腾云驾雾的感觉。
人生的决定性时刻
做回自己的搬运工
-----------------------------------
每个时代是否有自己的决定性时刻（defining moment) ?
Malcom Gladwell 在“Outliers" 里面梳理了一下19世纪的工业巨子和20世纪的电脑巨子的生日，列出了一些有趣的统计：
John D. Rockefeller, 1839
Andrew Carnegie, 1835
Frederick Weyerhaeuser, 1834
Jay Gould. 1834
Marshall Field, 1834
George F. Baker, 1840
Hetty Green, 1834
James G. Fair, 1831
Henry H. Rogers, 1840
J. P. Morgan, 1837
Oliver H. Payne, 1839
George Pullman, 1831
Peter Arrell Brown Widener, 1834
Philip Danforth Armour, 1832
这些人在他们20岁，30岁的时候，美国内战结束，经济开始脱胎换骨的转变，太平洋铁路修建，华尔街开张，工业革命炙热。
转眼到上世纪中，
Bill Gates, October 28, 1955
Paul Allen, January 21, 1953
Steve Ballmer, March 24, 1956
Steve Jobs, February 24, 1955
Eric Schmidt, April 27, 1955
Bill Joy, November 8, 1954
。。。。
越战结束，个人电脑时代来临。其余的故事大家都知道。
记得以前闲地有盖茨的同龄人比较自己和盖茨的生活轨迹，中学生盖茨在华大机房写软件时，这位正在停课闹革命。家姐也与盖茨同时代，如果问什么是她们人生的决定性时刻，她们都会说是77年恢复高考，让她们能先后从工厂进入大学校园。
什么是我们这些60后，70初的决定性时刻？我们10多岁的时候，中国结束了文革，开始了改革开放；20多岁刚上大学就碰上学潮，还有后来的清污，反自由化；64改变了我们很多人的人生轨迹，一时间头10年改革开放的人文气氛几乎一扫而光；有胆量，有关系，有资源的人开始往商海里跳；不想下海的就给出国潮卷走。现在回头一看，64还真成了我们这代人的决定性时刻。
-----------------------------------
每个时代是否有自己的决定性时刻（defining moment) ?
Malcom Gladwell 在“Outliers" 里面梳理了一下19世纪的工业巨子和20世纪的电脑巨子的生日，列出了一些有趣的统计：
John D. Rockefeller, 1839
Andrew Carnegie, 1835
Frederick Weyerhaeuser, 1834
Jay Gould. 1834
Marshall Field, 1834
George F. Baker, 1840
Hetty Green, 1834
James G. Fair, 1831
Henry H. Rogers, 1840
J. P. Morgan, 1837
Oliver H. Payne, 1839
George Pullman, 1831
Peter Arrell Brown Widener, 1834
Philip Danforth Armour, 1832
这些人在他们20岁，30岁的时候，美国内战结束，经济开始脱胎换骨的转变，太平洋铁路修建，华尔街开张，工业革命炙热。
转眼到上世纪中，
Bill Gates, October 28, 1955
Paul Allen, January 21, 1953
Steve Ballmer, March 24, 1956
Steve Jobs, February 24, 1955
Eric Schmidt, April 27, 1955
Bill Joy, November 8, 1954
。。。。
越战结束，个人电脑时代来临。其余的故事大家都知道。
记得以前闲地有盖茨的同龄人比较自己和盖茨的生活轨迹，中学生盖茨在华大机房写软件时，这位正在停课闹革命。家姐也与盖茨同时代，如果问什么是她们人生的决定性时刻，她们都会说是77年恢复高考，让她们能先后从工厂进入大学校园。
什么是我们这些60后，70初的决定性时刻？我们10多岁的时候，中国结束了文革，开始了改革开放；20多岁刚上大学就碰上学潮，还有后来的清污，反自由化；64改变了我们很多人的人生轨迹，一时间头10年改革开放的人文气氛几乎一扫而光；有胆量，有关系，有资源的人开始往商海里跳；不想下海的就给出国潮卷走。现在回头一看，64还真成了我们这代人的决定性时刻。
Monday, March 01, 2010
从昆明到拉萨 （六）
河水淹没的路面虽然只有十多米长，但不知道那路面给浸泡了多久。我们的司机跳下车来，跑到前面去，帮着前面的车子的驾驶员研究地势，他们比划了半天，前面的车开始启动，小心翼翼地贴着山脊往前开，左边的轮子大半个都在水里。最后倾斜着，竟然也慢慢地开过去了。我们司机脸上焦虑的表情放松了，他跑回来让我们都下车。然后自己钻进驾驶室。我们摒住呼吸，看着大货车缓缓地启动，一点一点往前挪，车顶的铁栏杆擦着山脊，碎石淅淅沥沥往下掉，河水冲刷着路基，眼看半个车轮都没在水里了，大家的心提到了嗓子眼，生怕这泡软的路基承受不了这一车水泥的重量，车子只要再往右倾斜一点，必翻无疑，这时才想起来，自己的行李还留在车上呢！正想着，我们的货车已然摇摇晃晃地爬上了路，司机打开车门，朝我们得意地挥手。我们一下子欢呼雀跃起来，奔过来恨不能给我们的英雄司机一个熊抱。难怪人们说在西藏开过车的司机，可以在世界上任何地方开车。
脱离了险境，我们的车越开越快，很快就到了左贡，司机为了赶先前耽误的时间，决定不在县城停留吃午饭。路上的车越来越少，只剩下我们一辆车在奔驰，随着海拔的不断升高，蓝天变得越来越纯净和悠远，周围的山野呈现出奇幻的形状和光影，有时让人觉得狰狞恐怖，有时让人惊叹不已，真是眼目的盛宴。终于车子开出了山谷，一大片草甸呈现在眼前。司机决定在这里打尖休息。停下车来，我们争先爬下车后箱来，舒展一下筋骨。康巴兄弟俩大概憋坏了，下了车就在草甸上一阵狂跑乱叫，我们也受了感染，跟着跑起来。兄弟俩索性跟我们追逐起来，直到大家摔倒在草地上，开始大喘气。那几个年纪大的藏人在我们年轻人玩闹的时候已经找来了柴火和干牛粪，支搭起了火堆，又从车里拿出锅子和水壶，从草甸的小溪取来水，开始烧水做酥油茶。康巴兄弟一会儿就跟我们混熟了，虽然语言不通，比划之间，弟弟腰上挂的刀已经到了大川的手上。大家凑上来仔细端详那一尺来长的藏刀，银色的手柄上刻着花纹，刀刃颜色有点发暗但仍然锋利，康巴人果真是骁悍的。
虽然路上我们都吃过我带的压缩干粮，奇怪的是过了一个多钟头就肚子饿了。我们的司机说，”在这高原上只有酥油茶和糌粑才顶事。”一会儿工夫，水开了，酥油茶也好了，他们碗里倒上炒熟的青稞面，倒上酥油茶就开始捏糌粑。右手的三个指头捏把捏把，不一会青稞面就团成了一团。看我们好奇的眼神，高大黝黑的藏人捏了一块糌粑，要给我们吃。我们赶紧摇头，谢谢他的好意。问他们讨了些热水，我们六个人找了一个小坡坐下，拿出饭盒来，倒上罗锦辉送的青稞面和在德钦买的奶粉，倒上热水，也像藏人那样做起糌粑来，开始了我们自己草地上的午餐。虽然没有酥油茶，加了奶粉的糌粑一样香甜好吃。吃饱糌粑，看到远处有两顶黑色的帐篷，我和茜决定去看看。还没到近前，一只藏犬就冲出来，朝着我们狂叫。一个孩子和一个女人跟着从帐篷里走出来，女人很年轻，长辫玄衣，胸前挂了一串美丽硕大的绿松石。她向我们微笑，自然安闲的样子，仿佛这整个山野不过是她家的院子，让我心生一丝误入的歉意。
脱离了险境，我们的车越开越快，很快就到了左贡，司机为了赶先前耽误的时间，决定不在县城停留吃午饭。路上的车越来越少，只剩下我们一辆车在奔驰，随着海拔的不断升高，蓝天变得越来越纯净和悠远，周围的山野呈现出奇幻的形状和光影，有时让人觉得狰狞恐怖，有时让人惊叹不已，真是眼目的盛宴。终于车子开出了山谷，一大片草甸呈现在眼前。司机决定在这里打尖休息。停下车来，我们争先爬下车后箱来，舒展一下筋骨。康巴兄弟俩大概憋坏了，下了车就在草甸上一阵狂跑乱叫，我们也受了感染，跟着跑起来。兄弟俩索性跟我们追逐起来，直到大家摔倒在草地上，开始大喘气。那几个年纪大的藏人在我们年轻人玩闹的时候已经找来了柴火和干牛粪，支搭起了火堆，又从车里拿出锅子和水壶，从草甸的小溪取来水，开始烧水做酥油茶。康巴兄弟一会儿就跟我们混熟了，虽然语言不通，比划之间，弟弟腰上挂的刀已经到了大川的手上。大家凑上来仔细端详那一尺来长的藏刀，银色的手柄上刻着花纹，刀刃颜色有点发暗但仍然锋利，康巴人果真是骁悍的。
虽然路上我们都吃过我带的压缩干粮，奇怪的是过了一个多钟头就肚子饿了。我们的司机说，”在这高原上只有酥油茶和糌粑才顶事。”一会儿工夫，水开了，酥油茶也好了，他们碗里倒上炒熟的青稞面，倒上酥油茶就开始捏糌粑。右手的三个指头捏把捏把，不一会青稞面就团成了一团。看我们好奇的眼神，高大黝黑的藏人捏了一块糌粑，要给我们吃。我们赶紧摇头，谢谢他的好意。问他们讨了些热水，我们六个人找了一个小坡坐下，拿出饭盒来，倒上罗锦辉送的青稞面和在德钦买的奶粉，倒上热水，也像藏人那样做起糌粑来，开始了我们自己草地上的午餐。虽然没有酥油茶，加了奶粉的糌粑一样香甜好吃。吃饱糌粑，看到远处有两顶黑色的帐篷，我和茜决定去看看。还没到近前，一只藏犬就冲出来，朝着我们狂叫。一个孩子和一个女人跟着从帐篷里走出来，女人很年轻，长辫玄衣，胸前挂了一串美丽硕大的绿松石。她向我们微笑，自然安闲的样子，仿佛这整个山野不过是她家的院子，让我心生一丝误入的歉意。
从昆明到拉萨 （五）
站在芒康小镇的十字路口，心里有些失望，进藏第一天就碰到这样的现实，跟自己的浪漫想象相去甚远，也许这才是背包旅行的意义。我们决定随遇而安，找旅店住下，再去找车。旅店离大路不远，二层的土木楼，后院是草甸，栅栏上拴着些骡马。一群带红领巾的七，八岁孩子在疯跑。放下行李，鲲和大川就去找车了，我和茜来到后院的水龙头处洗尘。虽然是7月底，水管里流出来的水还是刺骨地冰凉。我们只好打消了洗头的念头，只用湿毛巾把头发擦了一遍又一遍。那群孩子跑过来围住我们，“你好！你好！”，他们用汉语七嘴八舌地跟我们打招呼。脸蛋上的高原红衬着黑亮的眼睛，格外可爱。“这帮孩子原来是去昌都地区参加民族班考试的，考取的就可以去昌都上学了。路过他们的房间，看见里面还有女孩子拿着课本咿咿呀呀背诵的。看来考民族班对这些孩子来说是件大事。吃晚饭的时候，鲲和大川回来了，他们找到了一辆去邦达机场送水泥的货车，这辆车送完水泥还要拉香烟去那曲，司机愿意带上我们，每人收300块钱。
在西藏的第一夜，觉得天黑得很早，漫天的星斗离人很近，远处的村庄只有一星半点的灯火，狗吠之声不绝于耳。想着明天的行程，竟然兴奋得不能入睡。
第二天一大早来到小镇的十字路口，一辆装得满满，盖着篷布的东风大货车停在路边，旁边站着几个藏人。司机从驾驶室跳出来，是个40多岁的壮实汉子，胡子拉碴的，讲一口流利的汉话。他指指车顶，让我们爬上去。鲲蹭蹭两下就爬上去了，我抬头看看堆得小山一样高的车，心里发愁怎们上去。 大川从后面托住我，脚踩着前轮胎，扒着车厢边缘，我开始往上爬，鲲中途拉住我，借这力我才爬上车顶。在驾驶室和半人高的水泥包之间有块空间，坐下来腿可以放直。这时昨天碰到的那两个昆明伙子劲和亚鹏来了，他们身后还跟了一男一女两个日本人，原来他们找到的也是这辆车。大家爬上来坐好，等着司机开车，不想又爬上来两个年轻的康巴汉子，一个高大黝黑的藏人和一个孩子，还有两个中年藏人，变魔术一样，这小小的空间一下子塞满了14个人和行李。我们三个女生挨着，面向车头，坐在中间，藏人坐我们对面，我边上是那个藏族孩子，鲲和劲坐在最外面。大家紧紧地挤在一起，腿碰腿，脚踢脚。肩挨肩，不亲热也不行。
大家坐定了，车子开动起来， 我们也聊起来。劲是昆明一家兵工厂的工人，请了病假和休学在家的亚鹏来西藏玩。两个人比我们更没谱，随身的行李就是一个小包，按劲的说法，“甩着手就来了。”两个日本人在南京大学上暑期中文班，中文说不好，英文也讲不出，只好拿出本子写写画画与我们交流。六个藏人里面，只有一个穿中山装，跑小生意的会一点汉话；另一个穿藏装的中年人是裁缝；康巴汉子是兄弟俩，去昌都；高大黝黑的藏人送他做尼姑的女儿去寺院。我还以为剪短发的是个男孩子，原来是个女孩！
因为南线断了，车都转到北线，一出芒康，我们的货车很快就加入了长长的车队，沿着盘山公路缓缓爬行。所谓的公路实际上就是车轱辘碾出来的石头路，左边是悬崖，悬崖下面是金沙江，右面是破碎的山体，我们的大货车轮子几乎开到路的边缘，有时候路上的石头给轮子压得往下塌陷，路边的山体不时有碎石滚落下来，可谓上有落石，下有塌方。鲲和劲坐在最外面，转弯的时候他们半个人几乎悬在了空中。前面的车一旦有故障，整个车队就停滞不前了。路上军队的绿色运输车一辆接一辆，看来西藏的给养多是由军队来承担的。坐在硬邦邦的水泥包上，一路颠簸，不到一个钟头，就屁股生疼。但前面的路途实在险峻，我们眼睛都不敢往别处看，生怕一不留神车就掉下悬崖，更顾不上想别的了。就这样走了二个多钟头，我们的车停住了，站起来一看，山间的河涨水，把路淹断了。
在西藏的第一夜，觉得天黑得很早，漫天的星斗离人很近，远处的村庄只有一星半点的灯火，狗吠之声不绝于耳。想着明天的行程，竟然兴奋得不能入睡。
第二天一大早来到小镇的十字路口，一辆装得满满，盖着篷布的东风大货车停在路边，旁边站着几个藏人。司机从驾驶室跳出来，是个40多岁的壮实汉子，胡子拉碴的，讲一口流利的汉话。他指指车顶，让我们爬上去。鲲蹭蹭两下就爬上去了，我抬头看看堆得小山一样高的车，心里发愁怎们上去。 大川从后面托住我，脚踩着前轮胎，扒着车厢边缘，我开始往上爬，鲲中途拉住我，借这力我才爬上车顶。在驾驶室和半人高的水泥包之间有块空间，坐下来腿可以放直。这时昨天碰到的那两个昆明伙子劲和亚鹏来了，他们身后还跟了一男一女两个日本人，原来他们找到的也是这辆车。大家爬上来坐好，等着司机开车，不想又爬上来两个年轻的康巴汉子，一个高大黝黑的藏人和一个孩子，还有两个中年藏人，变魔术一样，这小小的空间一下子塞满了14个人和行李。我们三个女生挨着，面向车头，坐在中间，藏人坐我们对面，我边上是那个藏族孩子，鲲和劲坐在最外面。大家紧紧地挤在一起，腿碰腿，脚踢脚。肩挨肩，不亲热也不行。
大家坐定了，车子开动起来， 我们也聊起来。劲是昆明一家兵工厂的工人，请了病假和休学在家的亚鹏来西藏玩。两个人比我们更没谱，随身的行李就是一个小包，按劲的说法，“甩着手就来了。”两个日本人在南京大学上暑期中文班，中文说不好，英文也讲不出，只好拿出本子写写画画与我们交流。六个藏人里面，只有一个穿中山装，跑小生意的会一点汉话；另一个穿藏装的中年人是裁缝；康巴汉子是兄弟俩，去昌都；高大黝黑的藏人送他做尼姑的女儿去寺院。我还以为剪短发的是个男孩子，原来是个女孩！
因为南线断了，车都转到北线，一出芒康，我们的货车很快就加入了长长的车队，沿着盘山公路缓缓爬行。所谓的公路实际上就是车轱辘碾出来的石头路，左边是悬崖，悬崖下面是金沙江，右面是破碎的山体，我们的大货车轮子几乎开到路的边缘，有时候路上的石头给轮子压得往下塌陷，路边的山体不时有碎石滚落下来，可谓上有落石，下有塌方。鲲和劲坐在最外面，转弯的时候他们半个人几乎悬在了空中。前面的车一旦有故障，整个车队就停滞不前了。路上军队的绿色运输车一辆接一辆，看来西藏的给养多是由军队来承担的。坐在硬邦邦的水泥包上，一路颠簸，不到一个钟头，就屁股生疼。但前面的路途实在险峻，我们眼睛都不敢往别处看，生怕一不留神车就掉下悬崖，更顾不上想别的了。就这样走了二个多钟头，我们的车停住了，站起来一看，山间的河涨水，把路淹断了。
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
从昆明到拉萨 （四）
德钦是云南藏区的最后一站，我们到达这个山坡上的小县城时已是傍晚时分。在碎石铺就的窄街上开始看到穿着破旧长袍的藏人，他们都是来转山的。远处的梅里雪山在云雾笼罩中，两年前中日联合登山队试图登山，结果全军覆没。此后关于这座神山的传说不胫而走，据说只有特别有福气的人才能一睹卡瓦博格峰的真颜。向街边小店的老板打听去盐井的班车，果然早就停运了，只有私人的中巴车早上出发。得知我们要去西藏，老板推荐我们买他店里的奶粉，“西藏那边什么都没有。”他警告我们。我的心开始激动起来，明天我们就正式进藏了！
去盐井的中巴车很破旧，我们上车不久车里就挤满了人，大多是当地跑小生意的藏人，会说一点汉语。车子沿着曲曲弯弯的碎石路在山间爬行，路边开始出现石头堆砌的尼马堆和彩色的经幡条。走着走着，前面出现了一个骑毛驴的人，蓬乱的长发，汗衫已经肮脏得看不出颜色，毛驴屁股一侧挂着一捆稻草，另一侧拴着一个水壶和小包，他的两条长腿一晃一晃的，几乎触到地上。等车开到近旁，他转过脸来对我们灿然一笑，原来是个西洋帅哥。鲲跟他挥手，“Buddy, where're you from?” 他大概没想到车上有人跟他讲英文，一惊，“Netherlands." 鲲接着问，"Where're you going?" 他得意洋洋地说，”Tibet！" 他赶了几下毛驴，想追上我们的车继续聊，但我们的车很快就把他甩下了，鲲只有向他喊，"Good luck!" 车里我们互看了一眼，真是疯狂的荷兰人，不知道他在路上走了多久了？车上的当地人沉默而好奇地看着我们，大概在他们眼里，我们也是奇怪的一群。
中午到达盐井的时候，这里的荒凉和贫瘠让人吃惊。大概是因为开采井盐，路边的植被破坏殆尽，到处是裸露的黄褐色土石。县城不到百米的小街上只有一家小小的餐馆，是一对年轻四川夫妇开的。问他们为什么到这么偏远的地方来讨生活，老板娘羞涩地说，“这里赚钱容易些。” 只花了5块多钱，我们就吃完了四菜一汤的午饭。之后大家决定每人拿出200块钱来由我集中管理，今后的吃饭住店都由我来开支，到拉萨以后再跟大家结算。饭后回到中巴车上，我们继续往滇藏公路和川藏公路的交汇点芒康前进。
到达芒康的时候已是下午三点多，一下车鲲和大川就去打听去拉萨的班车。过了20分钟，两人垂头丧气地回来，原来从芒康到拉萨的班车一个月只有一趟，月初就走了。我们唯一的办法是找到去拉萨方向的货车，搭货车。正说着，两个内地学生模样的的人走过来跟我们打招呼，一开腔，竟然也是昆明口音。瘦瘦的眼镜男生叫劲，高高的帅哥叫亚鹏，他们昨天就到了，也在找去拉萨的车。他们还带来一个更坏的消息，去拉萨的南线公路两周前在林芝境内断了，所有的车现在都走北线，经昌都，那曲去拉萨。
去盐井的中巴车很破旧，我们上车不久车里就挤满了人，大多是当地跑小生意的藏人，会说一点汉语。车子沿着曲曲弯弯的碎石路在山间爬行，路边开始出现石头堆砌的尼马堆和彩色的经幡条。走着走着，前面出现了一个骑毛驴的人，蓬乱的长发，汗衫已经肮脏得看不出颜色，毛驴屁股一侧挂着一捆稻草，另一侧拴着一个水壶和小包，他的两条长腿一晃一晃的，几乎触到地上。等车开到近旁，他转过脸来对我们灿然一笑，原来是个西洋帅哥。鲲跟他挥手，“Buddy, where're you from?” 他大概没想到车上有人跟他讲英文，一惊，“Netherlands." 鲲接着问，"Where're you going?" 他得意洋洋地说，”Tibet！" 他赶了几下毛驴，想追上我们的车继续聊，但我们的车很快就把他甩下了，鲲只有向他喊，"Good luck!" 车里我们互看了一眼，真是疯狂的荷兰人，不知道他在路上走了多久了？车上的当地人沉默而好奇地看着我们，大概在他们眼里，我们也是奇怪的一群。
中午到达盐井的时候，这里的荒凉和贫瘠让人吃惊。大概是因为开采井盐，路边的植被破坏殆尽，到处是裸露的黄褐色土石。县城不到百米的小街上只有一家小小的餐馆，是一对年轻四川夫妇开的。问他们为什么到这么偏远的地方来讨生活，老板娘羞涩地说，“这里赚钱容易些。” 只花了5块多钱，我们就吃完了四菜一汤的午饭。之后大家决定每人拿出200块钱来由我集中管理，今后的吃饭住店都由我来开支，到拉萨以后再跟大家结算。饭后回到中巴车上，我们继续往滇藏公路和川藏公路的交汇点芒康前进。
到达芒康的时候已是下午三点多，一下车鲲和大川就去打听去拉萨的班车。过了20分钟，两人垂头丧气地回来，原来从芒康到拉萨的班车一个月只有一趟，月初就走了。我们唯一的办法是找到去拉萨方向的货车，搭货车。正说着，两个内地学生模样的的人走过来跟我们打招呼，一开腔，竟然也是昆明口音。瘦瘦的眼镜男生叫劲，高高的帅哥叫亚鹏，他们昨天就到了，也在找去拉萨的车。他们还带来一个更坏的消息，去拉萨的南线公路两周前在林芝境内断了，所有的车现在都走北线，经昌都，那曲去拉萨。
Thursday, July 30, 2009
从昆明到拉萨 （三）
星期六早上8点，我来到东郊的长途汽车客运站。在人群熙攘的候车大厅门口一眼就看到戴着迷彩帽，穿着军便装的大川，站在旁边的鲲一副放假学生的打扮。我把牛仔包放下，发现他们两人带的是也牛仔包，还没有我的鼓囊。鲲问，“你的朋友呢？”我看看周围，没有茜的影子，也许她最后决定不来了。正这样想着，听到有人叫我的名字，扭头一看，戴着黄帽子的茜从人群里钻出来。她笑盈盈地跟大川和鲲打了招呼，说已经来了一会儿了，刚在外面吃完早点。一看我脚边的牛仔包，茜惊咤起来，“装了什么东西？这么鼓？”我告诉她里面有两大包压缩干粮，一些巧克力，一个饭盒，加上换洗衣服，一件单车雨衣和我的傻瓜相机。再看她，只背了一个小小的红背包，一付出门郊游的样子。
上了去中甸的班车，摇摇晃晃一会儿就出了城。我们四个人坐在前后排，一会儿就聊开了。茜嘻笑调侃，让鲲和大川也严肃不起来，我们从天南聊到地北，聊小学，中学，大学，吃过的东西，去过的地方，认识的人。。。不知不觉中7个小时就过去了，到了大理州的首府下关。在下关换了去中甸的长途车。一上这部车就明显地感觉车况差了许多，开车的司机是个不修边幅的年轻人，加速换档，上坡下坡，动作粗旷，好像牛仔赶马一般。看来藏区的司机果然不一样。
车进入中甸，路况开始变差。长途车离开炎热的金沙江河谷，开始沿着盘山公路吃力地往上爬，路边的树木倒越来越茂密，挺拔。渐渐地，云雾飘落到了树间，车爬到山顶时，我们就像行在云海林海之中。连绵的群山，一眼望不到边，鲲指着远处的山峰说：“这是太子雪山，那是白马雪山。” 很难想象千百年来，骡队马帮就这样一步步走过这些大山，把滇南的普珥茶运到藏区，甚至更远的地方。
中甸县城就是历史上茶马古道上的一个集散地，现在茶马互市的热闹不再，冷清的街道和内地的小县城无异，唯一醒目的是一排藏式的4层新楼矗立在主街上，花花绿绿的装饰提醒着人们这里还是藏区。我们住在鲲表哥的朋友家，饭后无事可做在街上闲逛，才晚上8点街上就没有了人迹。在主街上走了几个来回，听见一条小巷里有音乐的声音，进去一看，是个木板搭起来的简易酒吧，外边歪歪斜斜写着英文的咖啡馆字样。里面黑乎乎的，点着几根蜡烛。老板是个年轻人，说话带丽江口音。菜单是中英文的，点了西藏茶，藏式的木碗端上来，混浊的液体，尝一口，咸甜微苦，很重的奶酪味道，这就是传说中的酥油茶吗？！
第二天，主人借了辆三铃吉普车，带我们去纳帕海。破旧的县城出来，天地似乎焕然一新，蓝天白云之下，雪山环抱中，只看见一望无际的草甸和零星的牛群，羊群，一派“风吹草低见牛羊”的景象。丰茂的牧草中夹杂着各式的野花，空气刺鼻地清新。“海在哪里？”我问，主人笑起来，原来海就是湖，每年夏天涨水，草甸就变成了湖。从纳帕海又去了松赞林寺。松赞林寺又叫归化寺，属清朝康熙皇帝和五世达赖所建的藏区十三林之一，是云南藏区规模最大的藏传佛教寺院。寺院刚修缮过，白墙黑漆，金顶铜瓦，经幡招展，象座城堡。我们在空荡的寺院里游走，大殿外面的彩绘壁画令人目眩，大殿里只有几个喇嘛和低沉的颂经声音，时间在这里似乎止步了。
回城的路上，主人带我们去他的朋友罗锦辉家，自从他的《彩泉》在头一年的联合国国际环境摄影大赛上得了金奖，罗就成了当地名人。他的家在城外，独门小院自成一体，屋里装饰着牛头兽皮，还有很多他在藏区采风拍的照片。罗问及我们的旅行计划，得知我们要坐班车去盐井，沉吟了片刻，告诉我们自年初的骚乱，进藏的班车说不定已经停开了，不过私人的中巴车应该还有运营。接下来他又问了我们有没有带青稞面，看我们一脸茫然，他说，“炒好的青稞面用酥油茶调了就可以吃了。路上肯定需要。” 他转身去了厨房，拿来2个塑料袋装好的青稞面，一定要我们收下。
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
10 Ways to Motivate Your Child to Learn
Inspire her thirst for knowledge inside — and outside — of school
1.Fill your child's world with reading. Take turns reading with your older child, or establish a family reading time when everyone reads her own book. It's important to show her that "it's not only a school task," says Ted Feinberg, Ph.D, assistant director of the National Association of School Psychologists. Demonstrate how important reading is to you by filling your home with printed materials: novels, newspapers, even posters and placemats with words on them. According to Stephanie Fanjul, director of student achievement at the National Education Association, "Children can learn to read by living in an environment that's rich in words."
2.Encourage him to express his opinion, talk about his feelings, and make choices. He can pick out a side dish to go with dinner and select his own extracurricular activities. Ask for his input on family decisions, and show that you value it. "One of the things valued in school is class participation," says Feinberg, and "having practice at home expressing his feelings" is "good for self-esteem and self-confidence." He'll be more likely to engage with the material he studies if he's comfortable asking questions and drawing his own conclusions.
3.Show enthusiasm for your child's interests and encourage her to explore subjects that fascinate her. If she's a horse nut, offer her stories about riding or challenge her to find five facts about horses in the encyclopedia. Make sure she has the tools she needs — since Feinberg's daughter "loved looking for sea life" at the beach during family vacations, he bought her little nets so that she could catch crabs and minnows. Now, she's a marine biologist.
4.Provide him with play opportunities that support different kinds of learning styles — from listening and visual learning to sorting and sequencing. Fanjul recommends supplies that encourage open-ended play and "do more than one thing," such as blocks — your child will develop his creative expression and problem-solving skills as he builds. He'll need lots of unstructured play time to explore them — although sports activities and language clubs are valuable experiences, too many scheduled activities can add "too much stress" to your child's life, and distract him from exploring the pleasures of learning at his own pace.
5.Point out the new things you learn with enthusiasm. Discuss the different was you find new information, whether you're looking for gardening tips on the Internet or taking a night class in American literature. Let her see you in action: choose an activity that's unfamiliar to you both, such as playing tennis or speaking Spanish, and schedule a lesson or pick up a couple of instructional tapes. "Parents are the single most important modeling agent in a child's life," says Feinberg, and if you "demonstrate that learning is a lifetime adventure," your kids will get the message.
6.Ask about what he's learning in school, not about his grades or test scores. "Even if he doesn't do well grade-wise compared to the other students, he might still be learning and improving, and you don't want to discourage that," cautions Fanjul. Have him teach you what he learned in school today — putting the lesson into his own words will help him retain what he learned.
7.Help your child organize her school papers and assignments so she feels in control of her work. If her task seems too daunting, she'll spend more time worrying than learning; as she gets older and has more responsibilities, things can get "excrutiatingly painful," warns Fanjul. So check in with her regularly to make sure she's not feeling overloaded.
8.Celebrate achievements, no matter how small. Completing a book report calls for a special treat; finishing a book allows your child an hour of video games. You'll offer positive reinforcement that will inspire him to keep learning and challenging himself. "If a child feels as if he is successful regardless of what it is, it builds him up and makes the next challenge easier," says Feinberg.
9.Focus on strengths, encouraging developing talents. Even if she didn't ace her math test, she may have written a good poem in English class. In addition to a workbook for math practice, give her a writing journal. When she knows that she's talented in one area, she'll be confident enough to try to achieve in others. "You don't want to not offer challenges," explains Feinberg, "but there's always a transfer when you have your kid feeling good about who she is."
10.Turn everyday events into learning opportunities. "Being educated doesn't mean knowing a lot of disconnected facts," says Fanjul. "Learning is building from what you know and connecting it to new facts." Encourage him to explore the world around him, asking questions and making connections. Fanjul remembers pointing to a prickly pear in the produce aisle and asking her young daughter, "Have you ever seen anything so bizarre?" When she replied that the fruit looked like "one of those fish that blows up," Fanjul knew that the structures for learning were firmly in place.
1.Fill your child's world with reading. Take turns reading with your older child, or establish a family reading time when everyone reads her own book. It's important to show her that "it's not only a school task," says Ted Feinberg, Ph.D, assistant director of the National Association of School Psychologists. Demonstrate how important reading is to you by filling your home with printed materials: novels, newspapers, even posters and placemats with words on them. According to Stephanie Fanjul, director of student achievement at the National Education Association, "Children can learn to read by living in an environment that's rich in words."
2.Encourage him to express his opinion, talk about his feelings, and make choices. He can pick out a side dish to go with dinner and select his own extracurricular activities. Ask for his input on family decisions, and show that you value it. "One of the things valued in school is class participation," says Feinberg, and "having practice at home expressing his feelings" is "good for self-esteem and self-confidence." He'll be more likely to engage with the material he studies if he's comfortable asking questions and drawing his own conclusions.
3.Show enthusiasm for your child's interests and encourage her to explore subjects that fascinate her. If she's a horse nut, offer her stories about riding or challenge her to find five facts about horses in the encyclopedia. Make sure she has the tools she needs — since Feinberg's daughter "loved looking for sea life" at the beach during family vacations, he bought her little nets so that she could catch crabs and minnows. Now, she's a marine biologist.
4.Provide him with play opportunities that support different kinds of learning styles — from listening and visual learning to sorting and sequencing. Fanjul recommends supplies that encourage open-ended play and "do more than one thing," such as blocks — your child will develop his creative expression and problem-solving skills as he builds. He'll need lots of unstructured play time to explore them — although sports activities and language clubs are valuable experiences, too many scheduled activities can add "too much stress" to your child's life, and distract him from exploring the pleasures of learning at his own pace.
5.Point out the new things you learn with enthusiasm. Discuss the different was you find new information, whether you're looking for gardening tips on the Internet or taking a night class in American literature. Let her see you in action: choose an activity that's unfamiliar to you both, such as playing tennis or speaking Spanish, and schedule a lesson or pick up a couple of instructional tapes. "Parents are the single most important modeling agent in a child's life," says Feinberg, and if you "demonstrate that learning is a lifetime adventure," your kids will get the message.
6.Ask about what he's learning in school, not about his grades or test scores. "Even if he doesn't do well grade-wise compared to the other students, he might still be learning and improving, and you don't want to discourage that," cautions Fanjul. Have him teach you what he learned in school today — putting the lesson into his own words will help him retain what he learned.
7.Help your child organize her school papers and assignments so she feels in control of her work. If her task seems too daunting, she'll spend more time worrying than learning; as she gets older and has more responsibilities, things can get "excrutiatingly painful," warns Fanjul. So check in with her regularly to make sure she's not feeling overloaded.
8.Celebrate achievements, no matter how small. Completing a book report calls for a special treat; finishing a book allows your child an hour of video games. You'll offer positive reinforcement that will inspire him to keep learning and challenging himself. "If a child feels as if he is successful regardless of what it is, it builds him up and makes the next challenge easier," says Feinberg.
9.Focus on strengths, encouraging developing talents. Even if she didn't ace her math test, she may have written a good poem in English class. In addition to a workbook for math practice, give her a writing journal. When she knows that she's talented in one area, she'll be confident enough to try to achieve in others. "You don't want to not offer challenges," explains Feinberg, "but there's always a transfer when you have your kid feeling good about who she is."
10.Turn everyday events into learning opportunities. "Being educated doesn't mean knowing a lot of disconnected facts," says Fanjul. "Learning is building from what you know and connecting it to new facts." Encourage him to explore the world around him, asking questions and making connections. Fanjul remembers pointing to a prickly pear in the produce aisle and asking her young daughter, "Have you ever seen anything so bizarre?" When she replied that the fruit looked like "one of those fish that blows up," Fanjul knew that the structures for learning were firmly in place.
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