By Terry Pratchett
Oh how I miss my books! The food to my soul, the chocolate to my brains, the tv of my eyes...... Trust me, that's how you'll feel if you are an avid book reader who comes to Fiji. Unfortunately, we sadly lack in that intellectual department, not because we don't have the resources or can't afford it, but because it is not impressed upon our children here. Society here doesn't regard it as a very rewarding activity in general. While there are those of us who do appreciate books, some of us who cannot afford them, most of the population in GENERAL, do not appreciate them.
Anyway, on with my latest review - one of the few books of Terry Pratchett that I have not yet read.
A Hat Full of Sky is about a young budding witch called Tiffany Aching who once defeated the Fairy Queen with nothing but a frying pan and earned the respect of the most powerful witch in all Disc World - GrannyWeatherwax. In this book, her guardians, the little outcasts of fairy world, the Nac MacFeegles, discover that an ancient form of life, one that lives in powerful hosts, is now after Tiffany. It wishes to possess her and follows her to her new place of abode and to a new teacher, a witch called Ms Levy. Except that Ms Levy is divided into two, literally.
While training under Ms Levy, Tiffany fails to disclose her secret ability and this is what leads to her being finally posssed by the Hiver, the ancient life form. It is a story filled with inventive antics of the miscievous, trouble making Nac MacFeegles who are under a geas to protect her and the intervention of the greatest witch of all times, Granny Weatherwax herself!
Under Granny Weatherwax's guidance and Tiffany's grandmother's love, she discovers the powers within herself to overcome the thing that is hunting her. She also makes new friends and enemies, the beginning of what seems to be another Granny, Nanny Org and Margaret circle. Not as much laughs and witty humour as in some of his other books, but definitely entertaining and captivating. Another Terry Pratchett hit! :)
My Rating....... 3.5 out of 5
Far far away
Morning peace
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
The Diary of Curses, Wishes and Thoughts
There are times when I wish that someone I truly dislike (not the trivial 'he/she's a snob', 'that person is so lazy', 'that friend backstabbed me and took my job, house and partner'), truly can't stand even thinking the first letter of their name, would just get run over by a bus several times. I'd even hope that the bus driver would reverse over the disliked person in an effort to make sure that he did run over that person and that it was an accident, or perhaps he was imagining things but sadly enough, he did not. And that overcome by grief and shock, he fails to drive the bus off the body.
Aha. Yes I'm having one of those days and no doubt, others have too. I get these feelings when I encounter extremely lazy people with brains the size of a peanut but they only use less than half a nut to function. These are the people who see only several kinds of people.
1. Their own - one dumb peanut recognises another dumb
peanut.
2. The ones better than them (this is not hard at all)
3. The rich - peanuts determine if the rich can turn them into
peanut butter or if they are something to be looked down
upon. On no account have they ever once thought that
people better off than them have actually had to work
hard in life. No!
I was recently in a position where someone blamed me for losing his job. Hmmmm. I don't know if it was because I felt sorry for him and kindly took him aside to tell him that sitting on the internet 10 hours a day chatting to some online chick he just met was not a good image.
If anyone can tell me what a security guard's job is, please do so.
Plus, there were a few factors that added to me insulting his pride. Apparently, his village boss was also a boss at the firm who had hired him, the primary word being 'WAS'. That to him meant, that if his boss was no longer there, he didn't have to answer to any other superiors. Get my drift?
So of course, him not turning up for work and not informing anybody was all my fault. Him sitting at the computer and not doing his duties was all my fault. The boss noticing his absence and lack of work ethics was once again - all my fault. I suppose he thought the boss was blind and that I had told him. Sigh................................
There are people like this everywhere in the world. But nowhere as prevalent like here in Suva, the capital of Fiji. Expatriots, if you are coming to work here, come armed and with the knowledge that you don't have to bring all your brains. Just a couple of peanuts.
Written by a local.
Aha. Yes I'm having one of those days and no doubt, others have too. I get these feelings when I encounter extremely lazy people with brains the size of a peanut but they only use less than half a nut to function. These are the people who see only several kinds of people.
1. Their own - one dumb peanut recognises another dumb
peanut.
2. The ones better than them (this is not hard at all)
3. The rich - peanuts determine if the rich can turn them into
peanut butter or if they are something to be looked down
upon. On no account have they ever once thought that
people better off than them have actually had to work
hard in life. No!
I was recently in a position where someone blamed me for losing his job. Hmmmm. I don't know if it was because I felt sorry for him and kindly took him aside to tell him that sitting on the internet 10 hours a day chatting to some online chick he just met was not a good image.
If anyone can tell me what a security guard's job is, please do so.
Plus, there were a few factors that added to me insulting his pride. Apparently, his village boss was also a boss at the firm who had hired him, the primary word being 'WAS'. That to him meant, that if his boss was no longer there, he didn't have to answer to any other superiors. Get my drift?
So of course, him not turning up for work and not informing anybody was all my fault. Him sitting at the computer and not doing his duties was all my fault. The boss noticing his absence and lack of work ethics was once again - all my fault. I suppose he thought the boss was blind and that I had told him. Sigh................................
There are people like this everywhere in the world. But nowhere as prevalent like here in Suva, the capital of Fiji. Expatriots, if you are coming to work here, come armed and with the knowledge that you don't have to bring all your brains. Just a couple of peanuts.
Written by a local.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
The First Story
'Popo, can I ask you a question?' Jonathan asked.
'Haaaa, that depends. I won't tell you my age!' Popo replied.
'How come your eyes are blue? I thought that all Asian orientals had brown eyes.'
'Why? Do you think they are pretty?' Popo said again.
'Er yes?'
'I was born with them. However, if you ask my doctor, he'll tell you they are cataracts! He says I'm as blind as a bat! Hmmph. He knows nothing.'
'Cataracts?' Jonathan asked unsurely.
'Disease of the eyes boy. He says that old people get them. But if he thinks that I see with my ears then I'll make him see with his nose!'
'But didn't he make you do an eye test Popo with all the letters?' Jonathan asked.
'Oh yes but when he showed it to me, there weren't any i's in it and when I told him this, he said I had to read the letters. But I tell him there are no letters -' she starts to do her chinese accent again.... 'and me no wanto read somebody letter. Me no rude! Den he say I must read letters small, down, big , up an also backside. He say he fail me because i cant read letters but me laugh ata him because me say me cant read Englis letters. He don't kno dat pepaal sud not read ada peepal's letters!'
'Haaaa, that depends. I won't tell you my age!' Popo replied.
'How come your eyes are blue? I thought that all Asian orientals had brown eyes.'
'Why? Do you think they are pretty?' Popo said again.
'Er yes?'
'I was born with them. However, if you ask my doctor, he'll tell you they are cataracts! He says I'm as blind as a bat! Hmmph. He knows nothing.'
'Cataracts?' Jonathan asked unsurely.
'Disease of the eyes boy. He says that old people get them. But if he thinks that I see with my ears then I'll make him see with his nose!'
'But didn't he make you do an eye test Popo with all the letters?' Jonathan asked.
'Oh yes but when he showed it to me, there weren't any i's in it and when I told him this, he said I had to read the letters. But I tell him there are no letters -' she starts to do her chinese accent again.... 'and me no wanto read somebody letter. Me no rude! Den he say I must read letters small, down, big , up an also backside. He say he fail me because i cant read letters but me laugh ata him because me say me cant read Englis letters. He don't kno dat pepaal sud not read ada peepal's letters!'
The Old Woman
Eight year old Jonathan had noticed her the very first time he passed the window. He did not know why he noticed her but he did. Perhaps it was because he did not know anybody in this new city. He had not made any friends since he started school, not that he cared very much about little people that were only interested in his lunch, his pocket money and his things in his school bag.
Perhaps it was because she caught his stare with piercing almond eyes and made him feel light headed. Like she had seen into his soul. Then the world had felt heavy again and he fell to the ground. When he got up, the old woman was gone. But as he walked home, he could not forget the blue, piercing eyes of the little old chinese woman.
The next few days he caught the old woman sweeping, mopping and wiping the tables and windows. He wondered how she could do all that work and not get tired. He also noticed a big Fijian man in the bar. He looked to be 26 or 27 years old and he was always lying with his feet up at one of the computers. He was not the boss because everytime a dark lady entered the bar, he was always doing something that looked like work. Jonathan didn't like him.
Then one day after school, he caught the old woman reading something. Curiosity overcame him and he decided to walk into the bar. The old woman looked up when he entered. Jonathan looked around. At one side, there was a bar which served food and drinks, another side which had computers and where the old woman was sitting, tables and chairs. The Fijian man was at one of the computers, laughing with headphones on.
'Can I help you child?' It was the old woman. Jonathan looked at her. She was older close up but her eyes, they were alive. He shook his head.
'No mam. I was just looking,' he answered.
'Well look all you like,' she said. 'Just be careful that you do not lose your things in here.'
Jonathan wondered what she meant by that.
A woman behind the bar shouted out. 'Hey Jovelisi, go and clean the windows! You were supposed to do them in the morning!'
The young Fijian man at the computer looked up angrily. 'Can't you see I'm busy talking to my future wife? Tell the stupid old china woman to do it. These people come here and steal our jobs and become rich. Otherwise, tell her to go back to China to the rice farm where she belongs! She's lucky to have such an easy job!'
Jonathan disliked him instantly. He had seen people like him in other countries. His parents worked in different countries all the time and almost every place they had been, they called him spoilt, white rich boy and his parents as job stealers. They didn't realise that his parents were there to help their country, to boost their education system and set up fair policies. They didn't understand that his parents were trying to help them. He had also seen them treat other races badly, especially the ones that worked hard and saved some money for themselves.
He was only eight years old and already he knew that people worked very hard, day and night, from 4am to 11pm trying to put food on the table. That everyday they worried about their children, their education and this made them do any job, anything at all if it meant they could earn some money. He had heard his cousin in England say once, 'Why should we do such dirty jobs? We can leave them to the Polish and Eastern Europeans coming in. They'd work for anything!'
Then when his cousin could not find a job, even as a waiter in a restaurant, he had said, 'We should get rid of all these stinking foreigners. They take all our jobs and we can't even do the dirty ones.'
Jonathan was too young at the time to understand but now that he did, he wished he could have said, 'Bosses don't want to employ lazy, selfish people like you that complain all the time. Bosses want people that work and guess what, all the stinking foreigners work very hard because they know what it's like to have nothing!' As far as he knew, his cousin was still living off the dole.
Jonathan looked at the old woman again. Gathering the courage he asked her, 'What are you reading?'
She rested her blue eyes upon him and said, 'A story. And I am not reading it, I am living it!'
Jonathan didn't understand. The old woman noticed this and smiled.
'What is your name?' she asked.
'Jonathan.'
'Ah, a biblical name. Well Jonathan, you can call me Popo.' She gestured to her book. "I live a story each day Jonathan. Sometimes I can live a story for several days, weeks, months and even years! I live them from my memories, from this world, from insects to fish. I am full of stories and I am a story.'
She leaned foward. Jonathan saw every single wrinkle and age spot on her face. 'My whole face is a story,' and saying that, she leaned back and laughed a giggly girly laugh. Her book fell open in the middle and Jonathan saw that the pages were blank. The old woman was right about one thing - she hadn't been reading.
'Will you tell me a story Popo?' he asked.
Popo stopped laughing and looked at him. She spoke in a strong Chinese accent then. 'Not tude Cho-na-tan. Me have to clean window fo sad computer monkey ova dere. He tink he got wife now afta computer kissy kissy but dat only becos she cannot smell him. You come tomorrow ok? It monkey day off and maybe he go to banana plantation.'
Jonathan smiled and nodded. 'Ok Popo. I will see you tomorrow.'
(to be continued......)
Perhaps it was because she caught his stare with piercing almond eyes and made him feel light headed. Like she had seen into his soul. Then the world had felt heavy again and he fell to the ground. When he got up, the old woman was gone. But as he walked home, he could not forget the blue, piercing eyes of the little old chinese woman.
The next few days he caught the old woman sweeping, mopping and wiping the tables and windows. He wondered how she could do all that work and not get tired. He also noticed a big Fijian man in the bar. He looked to be 26 or 27 years old and he was always lying with his feet up at one of the computers. He was not the boss because everytime a dark lady entered the bar, he was always doing something that looked like work. Jonathan didn't like him.
Then one day after school, he caught the old woman reading something. Curiosity overcame him and he decided to walk into the bar. The old woman looked up when he entered. Jonathan looked around. At one side, there was a bar which served food and drinks, another side which had computers and where the old woman was sitting, tables and chairs. The Fijian man was at one of the computers, laughing with headphones on.
'Can I help you child?' It was the old woman. Jonathan looked at her. She was older close up but her eyes, they were alive. He shook his head.
'No mam. I was just looking,' he answered.
'Well look all you like,' she said. 'Just be careful that you do not lose your things in here.'
Jonathan wondered what she meant by that.
A woman behind the bar shouted out. 'Hey Jovelisi, go and clean the windows! You were supposed to do them in the morning!'
The young Fijian man at the computer looked up angrily. 'Can't you see I'm busy talking to my future wife? Tell the stupid old china woman to do it. These people come here and steal our jobs and become rich. Otherwise, tell her to go back to China to the rice farm where she belongs! She's lucky to have such an easy job!'
Jonathan disliked him instantly. He had seen people like him in other countries. His parents worked in different countries all the time and almost every place they had been, they called him spoilt, white rich boy and his parents as job stealers. They didn't realise that his parents were there to help their country, to boost their education system and set up fair policies. They didn't understand that his parents were trying to help them. He had also seen them treat other races badly, especially the ones that worked hard and saved some money for themselves.
He was only eight years old and already he knew that people worked very hard, day and night, from 4am to 11pm trying to put food on the table. That everyday they worried about their children, their education and this made them do any job, anything at all if it meant they could earn some money. He had heard his cousin in England say once, 'Why should we do such dirty jobs? We can leave them to the Polish and Eastern Europeans coming in. They'd work for anything!'
Then when his cousin could not find a job, even as a waiter in a restaurant, he had said, 'We should get rid of all these stinking foreigners. They take all our jobs and we can't even do the dirty ones.'
Jonathan was too young at the time to understand but now that he did, he wished he could have said, 'Bosses don't want to employ lazy, selfish people like you that complain all the time. Bosses want people that work and guess what, all the stinking foreigners work very hard because they know what it's like to have nothing!' As far as he knew, his cousin was still living off the dole.
Jonathan looked at the old woman again. Gathering the courage he asked her, 'What are you reading?'
She rested her blue eyes upon him and said, 'A story. And I am not reading it, I am living it!'
Jonathan didn't understand. The old woman noticed this and smiled.
'What is your name?' she asked.
'Jonathan.'
'Ah, a biblical name. Well Jonathan, you can call me Popo.' She gestured to her book. "I live a story each day Jonathan. Sometimes I can live a story for several days, weeks, months and even years! I live them from my memories, from this world, from insects to fish. I am full of stories and I am a story.'
She leaned foward. Jonathan saw every single wrinkle and age spot on her face. 'My whole face is a story,' and saying that, she leaned back and laughed a giggly girly laugh. Her book fell open in the middle and Jonathan saw that the pages were blank. The old woman was right about one thing - she hadn't been reading.
'Will you tell me a story Popo?' he asked.
Popo stopped laughing and looked at him. She spoke in a strong Chinese accent then. 'Not tude Cho-na-tan. Me have to clean window fo sad computer monkey ova dere. He tink he got wife now afta computer kissy kissy but dat only becos she cannot smell him. You come tomorrow ok? It monkey day off and maybe he go to banana plantation.'
Jonathan smiled and nodded. 'Ok Popo. I will see you tomorrow.'
(to be continued......)
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