Ring ... ring ... ring ... My day today, as u__1__, started at 6 a.m., when the alarm went _2_ on the old Swiss clock at my bedside. I d__3__ s__4__ out from b__5__ the s__6__ Thai silk sheets, and then r__7__ out of the bed I had just bought two weeks before from Ikea. By 7 o'clock, even before I left the house for work, I had already received two business calls on my Nokia cellphone, one from a French c__8__ at work and the other from a business a__9__ calling from Canada.
As I left the house, I suddenly thought for/ to/ at myself how g__11__(G1) my life had become.
On the way to work, I thought about the a__12__ ways that life has changed with the r__13__ growth of g__14__(G2) over the last couple of d__15__. Some people d__16__ these changes because they think these changes will lead to the slow d__17__ of many a__18__ of their culture. Others, however, r__19__ how much more interesting things can become with the greater v__20__ these changes give their lives. Being a Westerner who lives in Taipei, I think G2 is great because it gives me so much more a__21__ to things, p__22__ and people from around the world, that it seems, for/ to/ at times, like I haven't left my hometown of London.
Once I got to work, I s__24__ on my IBM computer, while drinking a cup of b__25__ coffee from Brazil and f__26__ on French bread sandwiches. Later in the morning, I had v__27__ meetings with c__28__ from Germany and Korea to d__29__ our new line of products.
During our relaxing lunch, I slowly looked a__30__ the restaurant and realized I could have been anywhere in the world. There were other Western people at the table next for/ to/ at us all c__32__ noisily in languages that I wasn't able to understand. The Taiwanese waiter then greeted us in f__33__ English, with only a s__34__ Taiwanese a__35__. The G2 of this city, though, is most o__36__ in its y__37__ culture. While we were eating, three teenagers with d__38__ hair walked past our window drinking Starbucks coffee, laughing and high-fiving one another. This look and type of b__39__ was not c__40__ in Taiwan until a few years ago.
At the end of work, after such a m__41__ day, I was ready to try something different. So at home tonight I ate a good, old-fashioned Taiwanese bian-dang, which I bought at the local restaurant on my street, and I followed this up/ to/ for with clam soup and a big cup of high mountain oolong tea.
Read more!
Monday, September 15, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Our Global Village
originally published in The English Reader for Senior High School: Book Three by The Far East Books Co., Ltd. 原文引自遠東高中英文第三冊課文。
Ring ... ring ... ring ... My day today, as usual, started at 6 a.m., when the alarm went off on the old Swiss clock at my bedside. I drowsily slid out from beneath the smooth Thai silk sheets, and then rolled out of the bed I had just bought two weeks before from Ikea. By 7 o'clock, even before I left the house for work, I had already received two business calls on my Nokia cellphone, one from a French colleague at work and the other from a business associate calling from Canada.
As I left the house, I suddenly thought to myself how globalized my life had become. In one hour this morning, I had already used a clock from Switzerland, slipped out of sheets made in Thailand, climbed out of a bed from Sweden, answered calls on a phone made in Finland, and spoken to people from two other countries. And that wasn't all. I was about to drive to work in my new Toyota.
On the way to work, I thought about the amazing ways that life has changed with the rapid growth of globalization over the last couple of decades. Some people dislike these changes because they think these changes will lead to the slow disappearance of many aspects of their culture. Others, however, realize how much more interesting things can become with the greater variety these changes give their lives. Being a Westerner who lives in Taipei, I think globalization is great because it gives me so much more access to things, pastimes and people from around the world, that it seems, at times, like I haven't left my hometown of London.
Once I got to work, I switched on my IBM computer, and read the New York Times and the Sydney Morning Herald online, while drinking a cup of brewed coffee from Brazil and feasting on French bread sandwiches. Later in the morning, I had videoconference meetings with customers from Germany and Korea to discuss our new line of products. By 12 o'clock, I was really hungry, and my colleague and I discussed whether to have our lunch at the Indian restaurant up the road, the Italian pasta bar on the next street, or the new Mexican place because they make great burritos.
During our relaxing lunch, I slowly looked around the restaurant and realized I could have been anywhere in the world. There were other Western people at the table next to us, and a group of African people on the other side of the restaurant, all chatting noisily in languages that I wasn't able to understand. The Taiwanese waiter then greeted us in fluent English, with only a slight Taiwanese accent. Looking out the window, I noticed that every one of the shops along the street outside the restaurant had an English name written in large letters on its shop sign. The globalization of this city, though, is most obvious in its youth culture. While we were eating, three teenagers with dyed hair and wearing baggy, hip-hop style pants walked past our window drinking Starbucks coffee, laughing and high-fiving one another. This look and type of behavior was not common in Taiwan until a few years ago.
At the end of work, after such a multicultural day, I was ready to try something different. So at home tonight I ate a good, old-fashioned Taiwanese bian-dang, which I bought at the local restaurant on my street, and I followed this up with clam soup and a big cup of high mountain oolong tea.
Read more!
Ring ... ring ... ring ... My day today, as usual, started at 6 a.m., when the alarm went off on the old Swiss clock at my bedside. I drowsily slid out from beneath the smooth Thai silk sheets, and then rolled out of the bed I had just bought two weeks before from Ikea. By 7 o'clock, even before I left the house for work, I had already received two business calls on my Nokia cellphone, one from a French colleague at work and the other from a business associate calling from Canada.
As I left the house, I suddenly thought to myself how globalized my life had become. In one hour this morning, I had already used a clock from Switzerland, slipped out of sheets made in Thailand, climbed out of a bed from Sweden, answered calls on a phone made in Finland, and spoken to people from two other countries. And that wasn't all. I was about to drive to work in my new Toyota.
On the way to work, I thought about the amazing ways that life has changed with the rapid growth of globalization over the last couple of decades. Some people dislike these changes because they think these changes will lead to the slow disappearance of many aspects of their culture. Others, however, realize how much more interesting things can become with the greater variety these changes give their lives. Being a Westerner who lives in Taipei, I think globalization is great because it gives me so much more access to things, pastimes and people from around the world, that it seems, at times, like I haven't left my hometown of London.
Once I got to work, I switched on my IBM computer, and read the New York Times and the Sydney Morning Herald online, while drinking a cup of brewed coffee from Brazil and feasting on French bread sandwiches. Later in the morning, I had videoconference meetings with customers from Germany and Korea to discuss our new line of products. By 12 o'clock, I was really hungry, and my colleague and I discussed whether to have our lunch at the Indian restaurant up the road, the Italian pasta bar on the next street, or the new Mexican place because they make great burritos.
During our relaxing lunch, I slowly looked around the restaurant and realized I could have been anywhere in the world. There were other Western people at the table next to us, and a group of African people on the other side of the restaurant, all chatting noisily in languages that I wasn't able to understand. The Taiwanese waiter then greeted us in fluent English, with only a slight Taiwanese accent. Looking out the window, I noticed that every one of the shops along the street outside the restaurant had an English name written in large letters on its shop sign. The globalization of this city, though, is most obvious in its youth culture. While we were eating, three teenagers with dyed hair and wearing baggy, hip-hop style pants walked past our window drinking Starbucks coffee, laughing and high-fiving one another. This look and type of behavior was not common in Taiwan until a few years ago.
At the end of work, after such a multicultural day, I was ready to try something different. So at home tonight I ate a good, old-fashioned Taiwanese bian-dang, which I bought at the local restaurant on my street, and I followed this up with clam soup and a big cup of high mountain oolong tea.
Read more!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)