One Course, 150,000 Students.
AT the May announcement of edX, the Harvard-M.I.T. partnership that will offer free online courses with a certificate of completion, Susan Hockfield, the president of M.I.T., declared: “Fasten your seat belts.” If anyone was ready for the ride — the $60 million venture aims to reach a billion people — it was Anant Agarwal, the director of M.I.T.’s Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory. Mr. Agarwal, named the first president of edX, describes himself as a “serial entrepreneur” who first went into business as a child in Mangalore, India, building coops for 40 chickens and selling their eggs. Start-ups still call to him: in 2005-6, he took time off from M.I.T. to create a semiconductor company. And in December, when M.I.T. decided to plunge into the world of massive open online courses, or MOOCs, with a new platform called MITx (now folded into edX), he came forward to teach the first offering, which ran March 5 to June 8 and enrolled over 150,000.
How did you come to teach the first course?
I just backed into it. M.I.T. asked me to look for a teacher for the MITx prototype course. I talked to some of my colleagues, who are much better teachers than I am, but I couldn’t get anyone to agree to do it. Many of them said it couldn’t be done in three months. But I’m really impatient, I like to get things done, and I’ve started enough companies to know that you can do things that big companies wouldn’t think was possible.
The debut course was “Circuits and Electronics.” Why that one?
It was not my first choice at all. A computer science or digital course would have made more sense, but “Circuits” was something I could teach. It’s one of the hardest courses at M.I.T. You need differential equations and calculus, and we had to develop online simulated laboratories.
We’re starting slowly, with four to six courses in the fall and maybe a dozen in the spring. We hope to offer computer science, biology, math, physics, public health, history and more.
Did you expect so much demand?
With no marketing dollars, I thought we might get 200 students. When we posted on the Web site that we were taking registration and the course would start in March, my colleague Piotr Mitros called and said, “We’re getting 10,000 registrations a day.” I fell off my seat and said, “Piotr, are you sure you’ve got the decimal point right?” My most fearful moment was when we launched the course. I worried that the system couldn’t handle it, and would keel over and die.
Granted, there are no papers to grade, and assignments aren’t free-form, but how does one professor handle so many students?
We had four teaching assistants, and my initial plan was that they would spend a lot of time on the discussion forum, answering questions. One night in the early days, I was on the forum at 2 a.m. when I saw a student ask a question, and I was typing my answer when I discovered that another student had typed an answer before I could. It was in the right direction, but not quite there, so I thought I could modify it, but then some other student jumped in with the right answer. It was fascinating to see how quickly students were helping each other. All we had to do was go in and say that it was a good answer. I actually instructed the T.A.’s not to answer so quickly, to let students work for an hour or two, and by and large they find the answers.
The discussion forum has many interesting features, like karma points. If someone posts a question, and another student votes it up, which is like “liking” the question, the student who posted it gets karma points. Or if a staff member checks an answer as correct, the student gets a big bonus of points. If you get a large number of karma points, you get some of the privileges of an instructor, like closing down a discussion when people have come to the right answer.
How does this all work with a global enrollment?
It’s been amazing. You’d see someone post in Brazil looking for other students in Brazil so they could meet and have a study group at a coffee shop. Facebook sites for the course popped up, not all in English. There are people in Tunisia, Pakistan, New Zealand, Latin America. And a professor in Mongolia has a group of students taking the course. He got them all a little laboratory kit, so they’re doing the experiments live along with the course.
Most students who register for MOOCs don’t complete the course. Of the 154,763 who registered for “Circuits and Electronics,” fewer than half even got as far as looking at the first problem set, and only 7,157 passed the course. What do you make of that?
A large number of the students who sign up for MOOCs are browsing, to see what it’s like. They might not have the right background for the course. They might just do a little bit of the coursework. Our course was M.I.T.-hard and needed a very, very solid background. Other students just don’t have time to do the weekly assignments. One thing we’re thinking of is to offer multiple versions of the course, one that would last a semester and one that could stretch over a year. That would help some people complete.
EdX operates under an honor code, with no way to verify that the student who registered is the one doing the work. Is that likely to change?
It’s quite possible employers would be happy with an honor certificate. We’re looking at various methods of proctoring. We have talked about people going to centers to take exams. There are also companies that use the cameras inside a laptop or iPad to watch you and everything else that’s happening in the room while you take an exam, and that may be more scalable.
So what is the future of edX?
When there are more courses, I could imagine people taking several of them, and putting them together, getting the certificates, and using it something like a diploma. I think the courses will get better and better, but we don’t know how they’ll be used.
And because we will have all this data on how students actually use our materials, there are opportunities for research on learning. We can watch how many attempts students made before they got an exercise right, and if they got it wrong, what they used to try to find a solution. Did they go to the textbook, go back and watch the video, go to the forum and post a question?
Our goal is to change the world through education.
Read more at https://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/20/education/edlife/anant-agarwal-discusses-free-online-courses-offered-by-a-harvard-mit-partnership.html?ref=education
http://www.languagecorpsasia.com
Showing posts with label one. Show all posts
Showing posts with label one. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Thailand - One Man’s Dream Becomes a Bangkok Sanctuary
Thailand, One Man’s Dream Becomes a Bangkok Sanctuary.
BUDDHIST temples in Bangkok are about as ubiquitous as hot dog stands in Manhattan, and after a day or two of playing duck-the-camera with tour groups, even the most devout tourists can become shrine shirkers. But Bangkok has a fantastic sanctuary from the sanctuaries that stands out for both its secret grandeur and for its ancient style. You just have to find it.
It took our cab driver two calls on his mobile phone before he was able to navigate Bangkok’s traffic jungle a half-dozen miles east of downtown. He dropped us off on the side of a street that had evidently once been a quiet country lane, but over the last decade had become absorbed by the suburbs. Entering a nondescript gate we emerged into a six-acre compound of languorous gardens and ponds surrounding ancient temples and pagodas — an urban Angkor Wat whose exotic Technicolor setting could have been painted by Gauguin.
As my two sons, aged 10 and 8, and I made our way farther into this unexpected oasis, Bangkok’s pervasive diesel fumes were replaced by the scent of wildflowers, plumeria and incense. Prickly pears, ficus and fantastically gnarled trees — deliberately twisted according to classic Thai gardening traditions — framed aged statues and temples above koi-filled ponds. It was one of the most transcendent, bewitching places we’d ever been, as if Kurtz’s compound in “Heart of Darkness” were situated on a remote tributary of Bangkok’s airport highway rather than on the Congo River.
And like Kurtz’s compound, all of this came from a single man’s vision.
“I saw so many of our national treasures disappear or leave Thailand,” said Prasart Vongsakul, 67, a real estate tycoon turned collector and gardener. He was sitting cross-legged in a teak pavilion where he often greets visitors wandering through his gardens. “I have worked most of my life preserving our heritage so that it can be cherished by future generations.”
Mr. Prasart’s serene, broad face mirrors those on the dozens of Buddhas inhabiting his gardens. Once a samurai in Bangkok’s cutthroat business world, he now seemed as whimsically rooted to this lush spot as his fantastically sculptured trees. “My father disappeared in the war, and my mother couldn’t afford to send me to school,” he said. “I started work when I was 7, and I learned the value of being an honest middleman in buying and selling property in Bangkok.” As his fortune grew, so did his garden. “I never married, and I never had children,” he said, gesturing around him. “What you see here are my children.”
Over the course of two decades Mr. Prasart and his staff have assembled and recreated a dozen shrines, ranging from a 30-foot-tall Khmer temple surrendered by the Cambodian jungle, to a classic Sukhothai teak library pavilion suspended on stilts over a lotus pond — insurance against insects, fires and rats.
Mr. Prasart personally sawed, painted and masoned much of this complex, sometimes resurrecting long-forgotten building techniques in his quest. He even fired up and painted much of the Chinese and Thai reproduction porcelain lining the pavilions to complement the remarkable array of treasures he has amassed during six decades of wandering.
An exquisitely carved Qing dynasty screen elicited a tale from Mr. Prasart’s early, leaner years. “When I was studying real estate I would go every day for years to the store to look at the screen,” he said. “One day the owner said, ‘I’m tired of seeing you in here all the time. If you give me 20,000 baht right now, you can just take it.’ He was bluffing because he thought I was still poor, but right away I went to my bank, withdrew the money, and bought it. He was very surprised, but he couldn’t withdraw his offer without losing face. It’s probably worth at least a million baht now.” (This would mean that Mr. Prasart paid about $675 for a screen now worth more than $34,000, at the current exchange rate.)
Despite having a staff of 30 gardeners and caretakers, Mr. Prasart said, he usually rises at dawn from his Chinese-style one-bedroom pavilion to personally tend to the plants. “I am the head gardener,” he announced. “I get to sing the loudest when we water.”
He is joined by the sounds of chimes, swaying palms and balmy breezes blowing through ancient relics. Not included in the chorus are the mosquitoes and flies that regularly hover above Bangkok’s swamps and canals like a dark mist. To keep the insects at bay, Mr. Prasart has lined his paths with barrel-size water-filled porcelain jars and vases — some more than 500 years old. Bugs alighting on the water’s surface are swallowed by fish lurking beneath — antique fly zappers.
Mr. Prasart hasn’t neglected the more modern, Western-facing Thailand in his collections. A green-and-white Italianate building in the neo-colonial style popular in Thailand during the 19th century houses a “Citizen Kane”-like bewilderment of European statuary and art, including a collection of elaborately decorated French and German porcelain plates, vases and figurines.
“These were for the Thai royal family’s private use,” Mr. Prasart explained. As tribute to the royal family’s Westernized tastes, Mr. Prasart has placed an offering of a cigar and a glass of Cognac before an Italian bust of King Rama V, the great modernizer of what was then known as Siam. His exploits are celebrated in dinner theaters around the world thanks to the memoirs of his tutor, Anna Leonowens of “The King and I.”
The relatively high entrance fee (about $16) and remote location ensured that despite being here during the packed tourist season, we had the place almost to ourselves. “Sometimes we get tour groups and we’ve even rented the place out for cruise ship dinner parties,” said Benjawan Kayee, 39, the museum’s docent. “But otherwise visitors come here to enjoy the museum in peace and privacy.”
Visitors are usually given an hourlong guided tour after which they are free to wander at whim. I was worried about the guided tour part, especially as I was traveling with two short attention spans, but under the gentle direction of Ms. Benjawan, the boys, who protest when being dragged to so much as a Christmas service, became ardent acolytes, bowing forehead-to-floor before centuries-old Buddhist altars, ringing holy bells and waving incense while absorbing the ethereal designs.
“Why do you think we elevate our doorways?” Ms. Benjawan asked, as we stepped over a foot-tall doorsill into a soaring Ayutthaya-style royal pavilion built entirely without nails. “To keep out rats?” volunteered my older son. “Close,” she responded. “To keep out evil spirits.”
Not that more earthly matters are neglected in this celestial place.
Over on the western reaches of the compound a blood-red Chinese temple guards the collection. Within the temple, an 18th-century gold-covered Goddess of Mercy dominates the altar, her eyes half open as if bemused at having ended up back here after a long odyssey that ended when Mr. Prasart bought her at an auction gallery in England. She was illuminated by candles and sweetened by incense for worship by Mr. Prasart’s employees and their families.
A local woman circled through the temple twice, using two separate doorways for exits. “The left door is for luck in love, the right one for luck in money,” Ms. Benjawan explained.
My sons instantly darted through the right door. I somehow managed to circle through both.
Read more at http://travel.nytimes.com/2011/03/20/travel/20cultured-bangkok.html
http://www.languagecorpsasia.com
BUDDHIST temples in Bangkok are about as ubiquitous as hot dog stands in Manhattan, and after a day or two of playing duck-the-camera with tour groups, even the most devout tourists can become shrine shirkers. But Bangkok has a fantastic sanctuary from the sanctuaries that stands out for both its secret grandeur and for its ancient style. You just have to find it.
It took our cab driver two calls on his mobile phone before he was able to navigate Bangkok’s traffic jungle a half-dozen miles east of downtown. He dropped us off on the side of a street that had evidently once been a quiet country lane, but over the last decade had become absorbed by the suburbs. Entering a nondescript gate we emerged into a six-acre compound of languorous gardens and ponds surrounding ancient temples and pagodas — an urban Angkor Wat whose exotic Technicolor setting could have been painted by Gauguin.
As my two sons, aged 10 and 8, and I made our way farther into this unexpected oasis, Bangkok’s pervasive diesel fumes were replaced by the scent of wildflowers, plumeria and incense. Prickly pears, ficus and fantastically gnarled trees — deliberately twisted according to classic Thai gardening traditions — framed aged statues and temples above koi-filled ponds. It was one of the most transcendent, bewitching places we’d ever been, as if Kurtz’s compound in “Heart of Darkness” were situated on a remote tributary of Bangkok’s airport highway rather than on the Congo River.
And like Kurtz’s compound, all of this came from a single man’s vision.
“I saw so many of our national treasures disappear or leave Thailand,” said Prasart Vongsakul, 67, a real estate tycoon turned collector and gardener. He was sitting cross-legged in a teak pavilion where he often greets visitors wandering through his gardens. “I have worked most of my life preserving our heritage so that it can be cherished by future generations.”
Mr. Prasart’s serene, broad face mirrors those on the dozens of Buddhas inhabiting his gardens. Once a samurai in Bangkok’s cutthroat business world, he now seemed as whimsically rooted to this lush spot as his fantastically sculptured trees. “My father disappeared in the war, and my mother couldn’t afford to send me to school,” he said. “I started work when I was 7, and I learned the value of being an honest middleman in buying and selling property in Bangkok.” As his fortune grew, so did his garden. “I never married, and I never had children,” he said, gesturing around him. “What you see here are my children.”
Over the course of two decades Mr. Prasart and his staff have assembled and recreated a dozen shrines, ranging from a 30-foot-tall Khmer temple surrendered by the Cambodian jungle, to a classic Sukhothai teak library pavilion suspended on stilts over a lotus pond — insurance against insects, fires and rats.
Mr. Prasart personally sawed, painted and masoned much of this complex, sometimes resurrecting long-forgotten building techniques in his quest. He even fired up and painted much of the Chinese and Thai reproduction porcelain lining the pavilions to complement the remarkable array of treasures he has amassed during six decades of wandering.
An exquisitely carved Qing dynasty screen elicited a tale from Mr. Prasart’s early, leaner years. “When I was studying real estate I would go every day for years to the store to look at the screen,” he said. “One day the owner said, ‘I’m tired of seeing you in here all the time. If you give me 20,000 baht right now, you can just take it.’ He was bluffing because he thought I was still poor, but right away I went to my bank, withdrew the money, and bought it. He was very surprised, but he couldn’t withdraw his offer without losing face. It’s probably worth at least a million baht now.” (This would mean that Mr. Prasart paid about $675 for a screen now worth more than $34,000, at the current exchange rate.)
Despite having a staff of 30 gardeners and caretakers, Mr. Prasart said, he usually rises at dawn from his Chinese-style one-bedroom pavilion to personally tend to the plants. “I am the head gardener,” he announced. “I get to sing the loudest when we water.”
He is joined by the sounds of chimes, swaying palms and balmy breezes blowing through ancient relics. Not included in the chorus are the mosquitoes and flies that regularly hover above Bangkok’s swamps and canals like a dark mist. To keep the insects at bay, Mr. Prasart has lined his paths with barrel-size water-filled porcelain jars and vases — some more than 500 years old. Bugs alighting on the water’s surface are swallowed by fish lurking beneath — antique fly zappers.
Mr. Prasart hasn’t neglected the more modern, Western-facing Thailand in his collections. A green-and-white Italianate building in the neo-colonial style popular in Thailand during the 19th century houses a “Citizen Kane”-like bewilderment of European statuary and art, including a collection of elaborately decorated French and German porcelain plates, vases and figurines.
“These were for the Thai royal family’s private use,” Mr. Prasart explained. As tribute to the royal family’s Westernized tastes, Mr. Prasart has placed an offering of a cigar and a glass of Cognac before an Italian bust of King Rama V, the great modernizer of what was then known as Siam. His exploits are celebrated in dinner theaters around the world thanks to the memoirs of his tutor, Anna Leonowens of “The King and I.”
The relatively high entrance fee (about $16) and remote location ensured that despite being here during the packed tourist season, we had the place almost to ourselves. “Sometimes we get tour groups and we’ve even rented the place out for cruise ship dinner parties,” said Benjawan Kayee, 39, the museum’s docent. “But otherwise visitors come here to enjoy the museum in peace and privacy.”
Visitors are usually given an hourlong guided tour after which they are free to wander at whim. I was worried about the guided tour part, especially as I was traveling with two short attention spans, but under the gentle direction of Ms. Benjawan, the boys, who protest when being dragged to so much as a Christmas service, became ardent acolytes, bowing forehead-to-floor before centuries-old Buddhist altars, ringing holy bells and waving incense while absorbing the ethereal designs.
“Why do you think we elevate our doorways?” Ms. Benjawan asked, as we stepped over a foot-tall doorsill into a soaring Ayutthaya-style royal pavilion built entirely without nails. “To keep out rats?” volunteered my older son. “Close,” she responded. “To keep out evil spirits.”
Not that more earthly matters are neglected in this celestial place.
Over on the western reaches of the compound a blood-red Chinese temple guards the collection. Within the temple, an 18th-century gold-covered Goddess of Mercy dominates the altar, her eyes half open as if bemused at having ended up back here after a long odyssey that ended when Mr. Prasart bought her at an auction gallery in England. She was illuminated by candles and sweetened by incense for worship by Mr. Prasart’s employees and their families.
A local woman circled through the temple twice, using two separate doorways for exits. “The left door is for luck in love, the right one for luck in money,” Ms. Benjawan explained.
My sons instantly darted through the right door. I somehow managed to circle through both.
Read more at http://travel.nytimes.com/2011/03/20/travel/20cultured-bangkok.html
http://www.languagecorpsasia.com
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Cambodia's Angkor Wat is One of the Great Wonders of the World
Cambodia's Angkor Wat is one of the great wonders of the world.
Wandering temples with a double called 'Eldon'.
Angkor Wat is a huge medieval temple complex lost in the jungles of northern Cambodia, gradually being unearthed by archaeologists and overrun by tourists looking for mysteries.
The last available government figures show that 750,000 foreign visitors tour the jungle temples every year. Despite the crowds, Angkor Wat remains one of the great wonders of the world, an extraordinary experience well worth travelling around the globe to visit. It was where I met Eldon John.
"You know, you look very familiar," I said.
We were at the Riverside Guesthouse in the town of Siem Reap, a few miles from the entrance to Angkor. The guidebook said there was a crocodile farm on the river and a map showed it wasn't far from the guest house. I was thinking of going to look at some crocodiles.
"Everybody says I look familiar," he said. "That's not possible," I replied, sipping my beer, "but I must admit you certainly do look familiar."
"I work with Elton John," he said again with a slight smile. "I'm his body double. Elton's virtual twin."
"Pardon my ignorance," I replied, "but exactly what does a body double do?" "I stand in for him on stage if he thinks there's a security problem," he said. "I get to ride in the limo and wave at people. I sign autographs. That sort of thing."
"You're pulling my leg," I said. He pulled two photos out of his pocket. "One is Elton, the other is me," he said. I studied them. I couldn't tell who was who. He did look exactly like Elton John. It was really uncanny.
"I bet you have some interesting stories to tell. How often do you get mistaken for Sir Elton?
"About five times a day in the western world," he smiled, downing his beer. "Over here, maybe once a day." It's a strange feeling to wander the jungles of a strange country with someone who looks exactly like Elton John.
We visited the main temples at Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom, packed with tourists, including some westerners who looked at us in a strange way.
Then we rented a car to drive 37 kilometres deeper into the jungle to look at the temple of Bantey Srey and finally five kilometres further to the river and waterfall at Kbal Spean.
Here, long ago and for some mysterious reason, artists diverted the river and carved thousands of figures into the bedrock, then re-directed the river back over their carvings. It's the only underwater art museum in the world. Very strange.
We hired a longtail boat and drifted through the floating fishing villages scattered around the edge of the giant inland sea known as Tonle Sap.
To end the trip we visited the ghostly overgrown temple of Ta Phrom, where nature has been left to take its course and huge banyan trees dwarf the ancient ruins. Very mysterious.
"You know there's a lounge in Siem Reap called the Red Piano?" I said, sitting down to wipe sweat from my brow. "I have an idea."
The Red Piano is located right at the centre of Siem Reap. There is a huge photo of Angelina Jolie on the wall. Jolie starred in Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, shot at Ta Phrom.
The film crew partied at the Red Piano every night of the shoot, so now the bar is mentioned in all the tourist guides, and everybody comes to look at the famous photo of Jolie on the wall.
"Why don't we go down to the Red Piano," I said, "and sit down where people can see you, and then see what happens?"
"I know exactly what will happen," said Eldon, standing up. "Let's go."
We strolled over to the Red Piano and grabbed two chairs right by the front door. A man and woman walked through the front door and stopped to look around. "Here we go," said Eldon.
"My God!" burst out the man. "I can't believe it. Look Emily! Look who it is!"
The man strode forward, holding out his hand, his eyes bugging out of his head. His wife held back, too nervous to move.
"Hi, I'm Walter! We have all your albums!" gushed the man, pumping Eldon's hand like a piston. "Everybody in Atlanta is so grateful for the work that you've done in our community. We're such big fans of yours!"
"Thank you," said Eldon in his strong California accent.
"Pleased to meet you."
The waitress came by to take our order. "Is the owner here?" asked Eldon. He pulled out a red felt pen he kept in his breast pocket for such occasions, and autographed the back of a photo. 'Best wishes to the Red Piano,' he wrote. 'From Eldon John.'
Gert, the owner, was Belgian. Business was slack until the Jolie film, when things had subsequently exploded. He came to our table with a look of shock on his face, gazing down at the business card in wonder and then back up again. He burst into a wide grin.
"So pleasant to have you come to my bar," said Gert thrusting out his hand. "Welcome. I would ask you to play but we don't have a piano."
"That's okay," said Eldon, "I can't sing."
IF YOU GO
Siem Reap is a one-hour flight from the capital of Phnom Penh. Flights leave several times a day. A fast ferry across the Tonle Sap Lake takes 5 hours and cots $25. The bus takes 8 hours and costs $10-$15. There are many hotels in Siem Reap from which to choose.
Read more at http://www.canada.com/travel/Cambodia+Angkor+great+wonders+world/6228560/story.html
http://www.languagecorpsasia.com
Wandering temples with a double called 'Eldon'.
Angkor Wat is a huge medieval temple complex lost in the jungles of northern Cambodia, gradually being unearthed by archaeologists and overrun by tourists looking for mysteries.
The last available government figures show that 750,000 foreign visitors tour the jungle temples every year. Despite the crowds, Angkor Wat remains one of the great wonders of the world, an extraordinary experience well worth travelling around the globe to visit. It was where I met Eldon John.
"You know, you look very familiar," I said.
We were at the Riverside Guesthouse in the town of Siem Reap, a few miles from the entrance to Angkor. The guidebook said there was a crocodile farm on the river and a map showed it wasn't far from the guest house. I was thinking of going to look at some crocodiles.
"Everybody says I look familiar," he said. "That's not possible," I replied, sipping my beer, "but I must admit you certainly do look familiar."
"I work with Elton John," he said again with a slight smile. "I'm his body double. Elton's virtual twin."
"Pardon my ignorance," I replied, "but exactly what does a body double do?" "I stand in for him on stage if he thinks there's a security problem," he said. "I get to ride in the limo and wave at people. I sign autographs. That sort of thing."
"You're pulling my leg," I said. He pulled two photos out of his pocket. "One is Elton, the other is me," he said. I studied them. I couldn't tell who was who. He did look exactly like Elton John. It was really uncanny.
"I bet you have some interesting stories to tell. How often do you get mistaken for Sir Elton?
"About five times a day in the western world," he smiled, downing his beer. "Over here, maybe once a day." It's a strange feeling to wander the jungles of a strange country with someone who looks exactly like Elton John.
We visited the main temples at Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom, packed with tourists, including some westerners who looked at us in a strange way.
Then we rented a car to drive 37 kilometres deeper into the jungle to look at the temple of Bantey Srey and finally five kilometres further to the river and waterfall at Kbal Spean.
Here, long ago and for some mysterious reason, artists diverted the river and carved thousands of figures into the bedrock, then re-directed the river back over their carvings. It's the only underwater art museum in the world. Very strange.
We hired a longtail boat and drifted through the floating fishing villages scattered around the edge of the giant inland sea known as Tonle Sap.
To end the trip we visited the ghostly overgrown temple of Ta Phrom, where nature has been left to take its course and huge banyan trees dwarf the ancient ruins. Very mysterious.
"You know there's a lounge in Siem Reap called the Red Piano?" I said, sitting down to wipe sweat from my brow. "I have an idea."
The Red Piano is located right at the centre of Siem Reap. There is a huge photo of Angelina Jolie on the wall. Jolie starred in Lara Croft, Tomb Raider, shot at Ta Phrom.
The film crew partied at the Red Piano every night of the shoot, so now the bar is mentioned in all the tourist guides, and everybody comes to look at the famous photo of Jolie on the wall.
"Why don't we go down to the Red Piano," I said, "and sit down where people can see you, and then see what happens?"
"I know exactly what will happen," said Eldon, standing up. "Let's go."
We strolled over to the Red Piano and grabbed two chairs right by the front door. A man and woman walked through the front door and stopped to look around. "Here we go," said Eldon.
"My God!" burst out the man. "I can't believe it. Look Emily! Look who it is!"
The man strode forward, holding out his hand, his eyes bugging out of his head. His wife held back, too nervous to move.
"Hi, I'm Walter! We have all your albums!" gushed the man, pumping Eldon's hand like a piston. "Everybody in Atlanta is so grateful for the work that you've done in our community. We're such big fans of yours!"
"Thank you," said Eldon in his strong California accent.
"Pleased to meet you."
The waitress came by to take our order. "Is the owner here?" asked Eldon. He pulled out a red felt pen he kept in his breast pocket for such occasions, and autographed the back of a photo. 'Best wishes to the Red Piano,' he wrote. 'From Eldon John.'
Gert, the owner, was Belgian. Business was slack until the Jolie film, when things had subsequently exploded. He came to our table with a look of shock on his face, gazing down at the business card in wonder and then back up again. He burst into a wide grin.
"So pleasant to have you come to my bar," said Gert thrusting out his hand. "Welcome. I would ask you to play but we don't have a piano."
"That's okay," said Eldon, "I can't sing."
IF YOU GO
Siem Reap is a one-hour flight from the capital of Phnom Penh. Flights leave several times a day. A fast ferry across the Tonle Sap Lake takes 5 hours and cots $25. The bus takes 8 hours and costs $10-$15. There are many hotels in Siem Reap from which to choose.
Read more at http://www.canada.com/travel/Cambodia+Angkor+great+wonders+world/6228560/story.html
http://www.languagecorpsasia.com
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