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Education System in Thailand A Terrible

Education System in Thailand A Terrible This i Report is a repost of an essay written by Cassandra James, a British-American teacher in Thailand. Share your thoughts on this story in the comments below or upload your view to i Report. - zdan, CNN i Report producer Plagued by inadequate funding, huge class sizes (more than 50 students to a class), terrible teacher training, lazy students and a system that forces teachers to pass students even though they've actually failed - there doesn't seem to be much hope education in Thailand will improve any time soon. I taught in a private bi-lingual school, so had many less problems than exist in government schools. Even here though, the school falls under Ministry of Education bureaucracy, which is one of the most ridiculously inept in the world. Rules change every semester, new guidelines are handed down to teachers regarding course content, lesson plans, testing etc at the beginning of each new semester, then change again the following semester. Every year, the Ministry of Education brings into effect another bright idea for improving education in Thailand. This year's bright idea is to force every Western teacher teaching in Thailand to take a Thai Culture course. As the course costs between 0 and 0, money that has to be paid by the teacher, many teachers are saying they will not do it. I already know of two excellent teachers who have left Thailand to go to Korea and Japan to teach instead. In most other countries in South East Asia, Western teachers are paid more, it's easier to get work permits with less hoops to jump through, and the Ministry of Education in these countries is much more forward thinking. Thailand already has problems getting and keeping good, qualified Western teachers. When I was teaching at my last school, I was approached for help in English grammar one day by the Thai computer teacher who was very upset because he'd just been chastised by a representative from the Ministry of Education. The Ministry representative had seen some work he had been doing with the kids and had told him very rudely that he should make sure the English wording on the kids' Mother's Day greeting cards was correct. This coming from a representative of an organization that routinely sends forms in English to Western teachers that don't have even one grammatically correct English sentence on them. Half the kids just sleep through class, as the teacher doesn't notice if they're listening or not. Books are limited, science equipment doesn't exist in a lot of schools, and Western teachers in government schools are often the dregs of society. But as the schools can't afford to pay more than 0 a month, they get what they pay for. (Many of these 'teachers' are old men without college degrees who simply came to Thailand because of the Thai women, then ended up teaching as it's one of the few jobs Westerners are allowed to do). In order to try to solve the problem of unqualified Western teachers, Thailand is now clamping down on tourist visas. These unqualified teachers cannot get work permits so they live here on tourist visas, leaving the country and renewing them every 3 months. However, the only thing this new tourist visa restriction will do is to penalize the true tourist to Thailand. The guys who are getting them illegally, will just choose to stay in Thailand illegally, so nothing will change. Meanwhile, education in countries such as Vietnam, Malaysia, Korea and China is improving in leaps and bounds. Thailand is set to fall to the bottom of the pile of southeastern Asian countries both educationally and economically, yet the government and the Education Ministry wastes their time on ridiculous new rules, instead of a more common sense way of dealing with things. Firstly, if the government simply mandated that a college degree and a TEFL certificate were the basic qualifications to teach in Thailand, this would rid them of most of the Western men here who aren't qualified to teach. Secondly, if they increased teacher salaries for both Thais and Westerners, they would get better qualified teachers. Yet prices in the last five years have gone up more than 20%. Thirdly, if the government made getting a work permit easy for qualified individuals, instead of the mess it is now, teachers would come here and would stay. However, things are not likely to change in Thailand any time soon. Thai society is all about saving face and appearance is everything. The Ministry never listens when it's given advice by teachers who know better than them what Thai education needs. And as long as the way a kid looks is more important than what the kid knows, Thailand's education system is a lost cause. Thailand will continue to fall further behind in the education game and the better Western teachers will continue to leave. But hey, who cares, at least the kids look cute when they're all parading around in their Scouts uniforms. Just a pity less than 10% can actually speak more than 20 words of English correctly and a lot of them aren't very good at Thai either. CNN PRODUCER NOTE This iReport is a repost of an essay written by Cassandra James, a British-American teacher in Thailand. Read the original essay here.

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Academic Writing Service Write my A personal essay gives the reader a glimpse of your personal life experience. A lot of times you may need to compose a personal essay. It could be for a simple class assignment, or the requirement for a college application. In order to gain ideas of writing a personal essay, you can get inspired by the listed topics below. Just think of each of the ideas as a prompt for writing, and imagine any special moment the prompt may bring to your mind. We love to communicate with our readers, so if you have a question related to academic writing, want to report a problem or bug or just have a suggestion to our editorial team, do not hesitate to leave an email at [email protected] If you are students looking for custom writing help visit this academic writing service for top quality essays and research papers. Need help with your Essay, Dissertation or School Assignment? our writing service is here to help. Our company provides assistance with over 10,000 essays every.

Uk The UK's quality <strong>essay</strong>

Uk The UK's quality essay The development of tourism contributed to English becoming the most prominent language in the world. Some people think this will lead to English becoming the only language to be spoken globally. What are the advantages and disadvantages to having one language in the world? It is thought by some people that English, which is now the most widely spoken language in the world, may one day predominate over all other languages and result in their eventual disappearance. Having one language would certainly aid understanding and economic growth but there will also be some drawbacks. One evident benefit to having one global language is that it would enable greater understanding between countries. In other words, if everyone spoke one language, there would be complete understanding between not only countries but all people throughout the world which would promote learning, the flow of information and ideas. Another reason that one language would be advantageous is that it would help economic growth. With all people speaking the same language, there will be less barriers and therefore trade would flourish between countries, resulting in a healthier world economy. On the other hand, there are obvious disadvantages to having only one global language. Firstly, it would mean that all other languages would eventually disappear and, along with them, their cultures. The diversity of cultures is one of the joys this world has to offer. Each culture is unique with its own way of life and own perspectives of the world which would all be lost if there were only one language. Secondly, it would result in the collapse of tourism because there would be no reason to travel for pleasure and interest if all countries had the same language and similar cultures. This would devastate many countries economically that rely on tourism as a source of income. In conclusion, while there are plus points to having one global language, too much would be lost as a result. Maintaining local languages and cultures should be prioritised to ensure a rich world heritage for future generations. Comments: This sample answer addresses the task fully and provides relevant, well extended ideas. Vocabulary is flexible and there is a good range of complex sentence structures. Instant access to quality essays and coursework written by UK university and college students. Inspire your essay writing, get help with new ideas, study with confidence.

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Essay Writing Service Citizens are expected to understand the rules that our government has presented to us, abide by these rules for our own well being and freedom, and serve our communities and government back. In 1789, the Constitution of the United States was ratified. Tired of your pen? Have completely no thoughts on the topic? Have to combine your job with studying? Or just your neighbor is having a party of the year but you

Sex on the Beach The Yin Yang of Female

Sex on the Beach The Yin Yang of Female At the 2012 Cannes Film Festival, the spectacle of female sex tourism has washed up, once again, on the shoals of popular culture. Women who travel to the spaces peripheral to “modernity” and, by the way, have sex with the natives are not rare; however, in the continuum of capital expansion that stretches from colonialism to globalization, such practices tend to lose their luster as a kind of radical cultural immersion. For men, of course, such sexual adventurism would hardly qualify as a narrative with anything new to say. The notion, however, that women would travel to remote or less developed parts of the world for the express purpose of having sex with men who are, in many cases, younger and poorer than they are seems to cut against the grain. Whether characterized as “sex” tourism (commercial sex with the locals) or “romance” tourism (commercial sex with the trappings of a “real” relationship), this practice has inspired a good deal of academic research in the social sciences and in popular literature as well. In her 2006 book , journalist Jeanette Belliveau describes her subjects as “sex pilgrims.” According to the Amazon review, her book is “the complete reference for anyone who wants to learn about a hidden phenomenon that affects hundreds of thousands of traveling women and foreign men: Instant vacation love affairs that banish loneliness, provide cultural insights, offer one-on-one, hand-to-hand foreign aid to the world’s poor, create international children and sometimes even change the course of history.” Who can beat that? I believe, however, that the representation of female sex tourism in the cultural imagination is also worthy of study, as such depictions reveal a great deal about the anxieties aroused by the “aging” woman’s sexuality. The staging of this cultural moment is explored in two radically different films, both, coincidentally, derived from works of fiction: the breezy (2005), based, in large part, on a short story by the Haitian writer Dany Laferrière. Both films indulge the notion that sex in the tropics with a dark-skinned exotic youth is all it takes to cure the malaise of the older woman. In one sense, the autonomy of the woman traveler is a real marker of progress. Sadly, though, the representation of female empowerment in these films is either complicit with racist attitudes still fraught with the lingering spirit of colonialism (.) In the former, sex tourism is punished; in the latter, it is celebrated. We learn from the literature that women who sleep with the locals are not a uniform class. They vary in age and in their choice of destination; they vary in terms of their motivations and attitudes toward both their exotic partners and the imaginative geographies in which their partners are embedded. Improbably, for example, the Sinai is a popular venue for cross-cultural couplings. Some “ethnosexual” boundary crossings appear to pass unnoticed, while others are more disturbing, usually because they involve pairings between privileged white tourists of a certain age and marginal youths who navigate the interstices of the official institutions of tourism. Joane Nagel first used the term “ethnosexual” to describe “the intersection and interaction between ethnicity and sexuality and the ways each defines and depends on the other for its meaning and power” (10). In the Americas, Jamaica, the Dominican Republic, and Costa Rica are popular venues for the pursuit of ethnosexual adventurism. These are destinations where the opportunity for women to have sexual or romantic liaisons with exotic Others further complicates the shadowy social relations in the “contact zone” where, for centuries, sexual commerce between male travelers and the natives, male or female, have followed, roughly, the contours of imperial power. The term “contact zone” was coined by Mary Louise Pratt in her groundbreaking study to describe “social spaces where disparate cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in highly asymmetrical relations of domination and subordination, like colonialism, slavery, or their aftermaths as they are lived out across the globe today” (3). Her daughter is a beautiful girl, and the mother fears that she will be preyed upon. both begins and ends in the small, bare-bones airport of Port-au-Prince, Haiti, but it is not a happy place. A middle-aged, respectable-looking Haitian woman approaches a dignified black man in the arrivals area and pleads with him to take her daughter. “Being poor and beautiful in this country,” she explains, “she doesn’t stand a chance.” The mother would prefer to “give” her daughter to the gentlemanly figure rather than let “them” have her. She explains that her husband was handcuffed in his office one day and taken away. The gentleman in question, it turns out, is Albert, the manager of the hotel who is there to retrieve Brenda from the airport. He refuses, and the woman warns him that it’s hard to tell the good mask from the bad, but that “everyone wears one.” Both she and her daughter disappear from the film, but this brief sequence foreshadows the sexual and political predation whose connections the narrative will explore. It also helps to situate Albert, whose integrity will illuminate and complicate the ethical valences that the film puts into play. If this sequence at the airport does not sufficiently represent a space that is antithetical to home, the unruly streets of Port-au-Prince certainly do. The “native space” of the city is experienced from the back seat of a van against the soundtrack of a single woman’s voice singing. This is third-world space: impoverished, colorful, teeming with children asking for handouts, the site of political and economic oppression. The doyenne of the group, she is a commanding and handsome woman (as one might expect a sixty-ish Charlotte Rampling to be). These sequences highlight the separation of Brenda from the brute reality of Haiti, even as she is immersed in it. “Welcome to paradise,” she tells the newly arrived Brenda. A third woman, Sue, who is a supporting character and also single, suffers from a weight problem. In the same way, the small beachfront hotel called “Hotel Petit Anse” is an oasis of calm, a colonial-style outpost where the illusion of gentility masks, for its guests, the continuities between the mean streets of Port-au-Prince and the sexual predation that passes as “romance tourism.” The fifty-something female characters from North America are a study in contrasts but bear a common burden — that of being sexually unfulfilled at home. None of these characters is like Stella, the shining jewel around which the film revolves. The camera, like the male gaze (and ours as well), averts its eye from their aging bodies that are discretely, and with one modest exception, shrouded in bathing suits. Legba, by contrast, is available to us in full-frontal nudity, standing movie convention on its head. The original story by Laferrière consists of fragmentary testimony provided by the three women and Albert to an official concerning Legba’s death. The film, however, stages these sequences as nondiegetic interventions at strategic moments, with the characters addressing the camera directly; there is no interlocutor. They provide our primary information about what brings each of the women to Haiti, as the women do not discuss their motivations amongst each other in great detail. In lieu of the extravagantly laid out expository scenes of offers only these brief testimonials regarding the deprivations associated with home. Because these sequences are anomalous, however, one is compelled to consider what other “work,” besides exposition, they accomplish. Instead of bearing witness to the circumstances of Legba’s death (as the text suggests is the case), these sequences unfold as confession, implying some underlying guilt or, at the very least, some need to justify or explain their “status” as, to be blunt, sex tourists. Albert’s “guilt” or shame arises from his job as a servant for white Americans, but for Ellen, Brenda, and Sue, who represent, collectively, a set of “types” that cut across class and national boundaries, guilt, it is suggested, is associated with abjection, need, and the “unnatural” lengths to which they must go to assuage their hunger. Ellen addresses the camera in French, wondering how such a handsome boy as Legba could have been born in the “dungheap” of Haiti. Port-au-Prince, she asserts, is an “animal compound.” Nevertheless, she has been coming to the hotel for six summers. “The moment I arrive,” she asserts, “I feel at home.” She is a professor of French literature at Wellesley who can no longer attract the attention of men; she resents her young female students whose sexual preoccupations and romantic sufferings she bitterly excoriates. She speculates about the boyfriends, imagining that they must all be alike and that they “surely enjoy having all those girls at their mercy.” The thought disgusts her. Ellen is a character who is both ideologically obtuse and painfully unself-aware. Wearing the “mask” of disdain by which the formerly beautiful might use to disguise the loss of their sexual power, she is consumed with contempt for home, which she reduces to a sexual desert. Moreover, as a professor of literature in the 1970s (and French literature, in particular, considering the seminal impact of French theory that was just then beginning to transform the field of literary studies), she strikes me as deeply out of touch with the times. For a white person to “feel at home” in Haiti, especially one so closely tied to the humanities, she would require an arsenal of defenses against any number of emergent and prevailing ideologies, both academic and in the culture at large. She explains that she was on vacation in Haiti with her husband when she first encountered Legba, a poor, starving boy of “no more than fifteen years old.” They “adopted” him. One day she and Legba were sunbathing by themselves in a remote area. Overcome by desire for him, she allows her fingers to wander inside his bathing suit. Feeling his erection, she throws herself upon him and, at the age of forty-five, has her first orgasm. This singular experience is represented as the defining moment of her existence, and she weeps copiously just describing it. Brenda has been obsessed with this moment ever since, and she has come back alone to reclaim it, never considering that someone else might have a prior claim. For our purposes, it must be pointed out as well that the scene marks a startling departure from the Laferrière text, in which Brenda’s husband accompanies them. It is he who encourages her to seduce Legba and then watches them have sex. Chubby Sue is a working-class woman from Canada; she has an easier time attracting a lover in Haiti than amongst her male coworkers in the factory. She describes having slept with one of them once; he seemed “embarrassed” the next day and probably, it is suggested, regretted the episode. He was a “pleasant guy” she says, somewhat wistfully. Being in Haiti, though, makes her feel like a “butterfly.” “We all change when we get here,” she asserts. “It would be laughable elsewhere, but not here,” she avers. “Here it isn’t because we are all different.” There’s no irony in her voice. In Haiti, she’s a butterfly rather than a dumpy middle-aged woman; in Haiti, Neptune isn’t really “black.” That is to say, he’s not black in a “negro” way, but rather in an exotic and primitive way. She probably would never identify herself as a racist. In addition to allowing each of the women to “self present” or “confess,” as the case may be, the film also takes pains to dramatize the differences between Ellen and Brenda. Dark-haired Ellen could be described as a “manly” woman: in control, professional, unemotional; when she’s not wearing a bathing suit, she’s always in pants. She’s also arrogant and bitchy, as when she entertains a group of hotel guests (and their teenage lovers) by making fun of Sue’s weight (imagine the meanest of the popular girls in high school). She’s the one in charge and seems prepared, at first, to mentor Brenda in the ways of the game. In an early sequence that features the three women dining together, Ellen lays it all out for her: the white men down here, she claims, aren’t “the least bit horny.” What is more, “if you’re over forty, the only guys you can interest are natural born losers or husbands whose wives are cheating on them.” Sue chimes in, “Let’s be honest; here I don’t even notice whites.” Ellen is all hard edges; she presents herself as a realist who has assessed the cold, hard facts of her situation and made a decision to pay for what she can no longer, at age fifty-five, hope to get for free. She takes pride in her insouciance as she succinctly explains to Brenda: “I’m crazy about love. I always told myself that when I got old, I’d pay young men to love me. Other than that, I have no problem with it.” She doesn’t strike one as the type to be “crazy about love.” Ellen’s perpetual smirk conceals an unacknowledged fragility. The whole façade depends on Legba’s fealty, which Brenda threatens. In a painful scene, she frolics in the waves with Legba, Putting her head under water, she emerges with her hair flattened out. At the end of the film, she tells Albert that she had imagined Legba and his friends making fun of her and all the other women, but she avers proudly, “I didn’t mind; I was never afraid of pain.” This seems to capture Albert’s notice. Ellen wants to control Legba, but she also likes to feign powerlessness, as when she tell Brenda that Legba must be given free reign. He makes the decisions.” Ellen is evidently unaware of the self-contradictory nature of her remark. Brenda does challenge her, though: “He does or you do? ” It never occurs to either of them that Legba might belong to himself. When it is discovered that he is in some kind of trouble, she pulls him aside (actually she drags him into the kitchen of the hotel restaurant and orders everyone else to leave), and tells him that “they” can help him. She tells him that she can get him a passport and take him to the States, where he won’t have to work. She orders him to stay at the hotel where he will be safe. Legba storms out, asserting whatever autonomy he has — the freedom to say no. When he turns up dead, she is appalled at the police inspector’s indifference. In her self-referential world, it is their quarrel that has somehow caused his death. When we last see her, she sits, devastated, in the airport. Blond Brenda, in contrast to Ellen, is soft and womanly. But the inspector is not interested in “an investigation.” Boys like that, he tells her, “often end up that way” (one of the “dime a dozen,” that is, from which the ladies may take their pick). When she asks if they might be in danger, he mutters to Albert, in Creole, “Tell her that tourists never die.” Legba’s death appears to have a transformative effect on Ellen. She wears dresses and appears, at first, to treat Legba more like an individual than a sex toy. She would be the classic “romance” tourist, except for the fact that she’s also the classic “hysteric,” a term historically associated with female sexual dysfunction. She is so infatuated with Legba that she does not understand the unwritten “rules” that structure the social geography of the hotel. For example, she attempts to bring Legba into the hotel restaurant to eat with her, but Albert refuses to serve him. Sue protests that he always eats with them on the beach, but Albert asserts in the restaurant it is different. Albert finally agrees to bring some leftover chicken to Legba (white folks, as usual, call the shots), as Brenda retorts, “It’s incredible how racist they can be! ” Ellen joins them, jeering cruelly, “the big boy has made it to the restaurant.” But Brenda has, in effect, rented him for the evening. Ellen remarks to Sue, “It looks like little Brenda knows what she wants.” When they are at a sufficient distance from the hotel, Legba dutifully disrobes. Brenda has, after all, paid for it, but she has a real investment in the emotional aspects of the relationship, at least in the beginning. Over the course of the film we watch her transformation from a “good girl” into a borderline personality obsessed with nubile black flesh. Distraught by Legba’s disappearance late in the film, she wanders off in search of him. Wandering is always a weighted concept where women are concerned, with its resonances of rule-breaking and boundary crossings. And so Brenda leaves the tourist enclave and makes her way, disheveled and looking a bit off kilter, to a Haitian bar where she makes inquires about Legba. She is clearly the only white person in the place, but she seems oblivious to this fact, a foreshadowing, perhaps, of the boundary-breaking culmination of her narrative arc. She takes a drink and sits down, attracting the attention of a Haitian man. She indicates her interest, and they share an intimate moment on the dance floor as she relaxes blissfully into his arms. The character of Brenda exists, it seems, to dramatize the effects of anorgasmia, at the feet of which all of her pathologies are laid. Her susceptibility to the irrational becomes evident when she succumbs to a drum-induced trance while dancing with Legba. She is also a pill popper and, after Legba’s death, edges closer to a breakdown. In a sequence that takes place in her room where she has come after Legba’s death accompanied by Sue, she is showering while Sue is talking to her from the next room. When Brenda opens the bathroom door, she is briefly nude before wrapping herself in a towel. It is so interesting that the director has chosen this moment, rather than a love scene, to reveal Brenda’s nakedness, and I think we need to consider, not only the symbolic weight of her nudity, but of the shower as well. On the most obvious level, she is cleansed of grief and initiated into a new existential domain, which the film translates as madness. Though the nature of her trajectory has yet to be revealed, her paranoia and hostility to Sue (“Stop looking at me that way. I’m sick of those looks that say poor Brenda, crazy as ever”) prepare us for the film’s culminating judgment of this character. Instead of steering us toward notions of vulnerability and prelapsarian innocence, her nakedness appears sinister. She “opens” the door, but it is a prelude to her embrace of “shameless” sexual predation. We might also say that she has shed the armature of subject formation, sliding tragically (it is suggested) though the grid of intersecting disciplinary regimes that both form and constrain her, freeing her up to embrace an existence wholly given over to sexuality. So, while she had been preoccupied earlier with Legba and whether he had real feelings for her, she now wonders, “Maybe Ellen was right. All I know is, I loved the way he looked at me.” She resolves not to go home (“I have no home”), but continue on to all the other islands of the Caribbean. At the silent heart of the film (and the short story) is Legba, the poor, the compliant, the sublime. She has become like William Burroughs in Tangier, vowing to “fuck his way” from one end of the city to the other. But in Laferrière’s story, he is also referred to as a drug dealer and hoodlum in addition to his characterization as a prostitute and gigolo. The film offers no such sense of his agency, so that even in the scenes of his life outside the hotel his powerlessness is the focus of the narrative. His abjection is comparable in some ways to the castrated female of Laura Mulvey’s “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema” who “stands in patriarchal culture as a signifier for the male other, bound by a symbolic order in which man can live out his fantasies and obsessions through linguistic command by imposing them on the silent image of woman still tied to her place as bearer, not maker, of meaning” (433). Like the female sex goddess, Legba functions both “as erotic object for the characters within the screen story, and as erotic object for the spectator within the auditorium” (436), thereby messing with the signifying power of the Phallus. Taken as a subject position as opposed to as an organizing principle of gender, the Phallus can operate free from anatomy. And so, “as the spectator identifies with the main male protagonist, he projects his look onto that of his like, his screen surrogate, so that the power of the male protagonist as he controls events coincides with the active power of the erotic look, both giving a satisfying sense of impotence” (437. We could easily substitute the concept of “the colonizer” for the term “male protagonist.” Legba is first glimpsed lying on the beach, as if dead. It is only when Brenda approaches him and he awakens that we realize he is simply sleeping. His deathlike form on the beach foreshadows his corpse at the end of the film. And, indeed, he is an object, a beautiful dead thing. Brenda describes him as “motionless” at the time of their first sexual encounter. Indeed, she throws herself upon his inert body, inert but for the erection, which she discovers after placing her hand inside his swimming trunks. Ellen takes his picture while he is lying face down on the bed, nude. “Don’t move,” she says, and the camera zooms in on the image of his prostrate form that appears in the viewfinder. When not motionless, Legba is seen being treated to lunches on the beach; Ellen discretely places some bills in his pants pocket. Where is Legba in the Oedipal drama that metes out power according to the visibility and invisibility of sex organs? On the other hand, the film is generous in allowing an imaginative glimpse into life on the streets of Port-au-Prince, including the indignities suffered by the poor at the hands of a local bigwig who wears his power like a pair of outsize testicles. Legba is a witness to this, but he is impotent in the face of administrative abuse and terror. We see the price to be paid for inadvertently crossing the line. One day, on the streets of Port-au-Prince, he is followed by a menacing limousine. Inside, it turns out, is his former Haitian girlfriend. She invites him into the car to share a few words, explaining how she came to be kept by the Colonel, and implores him to be her friend. Subsequently they are both shot and dumped on the beach. He is caught between the hard oppression of a vicious dictatorship and the soft oppression of his female masters. Legba, after all, could have taken Ellen up on her offer to return to the States with her, but he vehemently rejects that idea. What remains hidden and of no interest to Brenda and Ellen is crucial to our understanding of Legba’s predicament. His death, for example, is beyond the scope of their capacity to either control or understand. In this respect, the film’s postcolonial sensibilities dramatically foreground the continuities between private acts of exploitation and political oppression, both of which extract their heaviest pound of flesh from the poor. On the other hand, in director Cantet’s zeal to expose the degradations suffered by the powerless and disenfranchised, he implicates his female characters a bit too mercilessly in this assault on human dignity. Cantet has argued that the film makes a serious attempt to explore women’s desire. “The desire of women is not often talked about in cinema, especially if it concerns women over forty,” he explains. “Here, not only do we talk about it, we listen to the women themselves talk about it.” And yet his film seems to tear its characters apart for acting on it; their narrative of abjection can only be realized by aligning them, in a “micro” sense, to be sure, with the master narrative of conquest and imperialism that is such a familiar feature of the contact zone. The postcolonial perspective of is articulated by Albert, under whose judgmental eye this sex trade goes on year after year. A liminal figure, he the only character who mediates between north and south, a function he performs quite literally as he shuttles the women back and forth between the hotel and the airport. His “interview” with the unseen interrogator reveals his inherited hatred of white people and particularly Americans, whom he identifies as “invaders” and “occupiers.” His bitter summation tells the whole story: “This time the invaders aren’t armed, but they have more damaging weapons than arms: dollars! So that everything they touch turns to garbage.” Here the camera cuts to Legba lying on the beach. “The whole country is rotten.” While the film endorses Albert’s struggle for dignity in his role as witness to the “garbage production” that the sex tourism embodies, his humanity and manhood are clearly invisible to Ellen. After Legba’s death, she shares with Albert an erotic reverie about Legba. Albert receives this information dispassionately; he does not acknowledge her words, and his averted gaze is a powerful register of the subjectivity that Ellen disregards. Being forced to bear witness against his will, he too has been, effectively, emasculated, turned to garbage. Prostitution in the modern world always begins with the idea of poverty. Every attempt is made to preserve the fiction, not only of romance, but of Legba’s autonomy as well. And yet the “protocol” of sex tourism as depicted in the film requires that its players somehow mask the asymmetrical nature of their relations with, at times, an absurd appearance of heteronormativity. If he gets to “choose,” well, you’re not buying his services. It preserves his dignity and allows the women to feel desirable. In a particularly jarring sequence, Legba is seen on a “date” in town with Brenda. He is dressed in a neatly pressed shirt and pants escorting her out of a cab (and paying the cab fare) and through the crowded streets of Port-au-Prince. He even buys her a tobacco doll from one of the market vendors and tips some locals who have consented to having their picture taken by Brenda. This seems consistent with the charming hustlers who narrate many of the Laferrière tales, but not with Legba (who doesn’t seem to own clothes, much less such well-tended ones). Heteronormal values are hard to shed, even as race and class have reversed the “natural” order. What makes the pretense of romance particularly hollow, beyond the literal prostitution that it softens and prettifies, is that there is no “relation” to speak of, no intersubjective connection between the women and their lovers. Just as they dislike blacks up north for the color of their skin, they like them “down here” for that very reason. The process of Othering, a legacy of colonialism, makes the very idea of intimacy seem ridiculous, yet both Ellen and Brenda are convinced that Legba loves them. Though the viewer might well cringe, they appear to show no sense of embarrassment, each quick to rifle through her bag, when he must ask for bus fare to go into town. These are women, moreover, who evince no interest in Haiti or the lives of the boys they sleep with. Ellen doesn’t even like to go the colorful market, though Sue finds it good place to pick up tchotchkes. And the less they know and the less subjectivity they grant, the more these boys can function as magic mirrors, reflecting back the image of the desirable woman. Ellen, Brenda, and Sue all share a common attitude toward the black men they desire. They all seem to agree that black men are “different” in Haiti than they are up north. Brenda wonders if it’s because they’re closer to nature, or maybe it’s the sun; she decides they’re more “gracious.” Ever the pragmatist, Ellen proclaims that the big difference is that here “you see them stripped to the waist” which embarrasses Brenda. Ellen intuits Brenda’s reason for returning to Haiti. She tells Brenda that these cute guys “are a dime a dozen. Take your pick.” On the one hand, they appear to be fungible; on the other, they are objects of obsessive attachment. Despite the emotional investments of these women in individual black men, their discourse is full of racist and exoticist assumptions. Ellen dislikes “black guys in Harlem.” She complains later, in the presence of Legba, that a shirt Brenda has purchased for him makes him look like a “black in Harlem.” How does the film mete out its justice? Ellen, whose raison d’etre, it seems, is enjoying the attention and sexual prowess of Legba in her Haitian retreat, is expelled from paradise. Of the three women, she is the most capable of transformation, but the film does not grant her this. She understands that her “relation” to Legba, and perhaps to Haiti as well, was not as she had imagined, but that’s about as far as it goes. It seems unfair somehow, to deny her the very insights that the film is so keen on delivering to the audience. Brenda, the sexually frustrated bourgeoise, finally comes into her own as a loose cannon. Having bought in to her new drug of choice — young black bodies — she is prepared to fuck her way through the Caribbean. Her “nymphomania” is inseparable from her identity as a privileged white woman whose economic status allows her buy the services of impoverished native boys to satisfy her now insatiable libido. The movie appears to give Sue a pass by virtue of her class status and her weight — and perhaps because she is Canadian. She even insists on carrying her own stuff when the group goes off on a picnic, refusing the proffered assistance of one of the boys. All three women are in Haiti because of their failure to meet the feminine ideal, the standard of desirability: Ellen is too old, Sue too fat and working class, and Brenda is frigid. With the qualified exception of Ellen, they have learned nothing. It might be useful to contrast the text of “Heading South” by Laferrière with . The movie offers nothing to women like them either. In that work, “Heading South” is somewhat anomalous in having no narrator, as such. It is composed, as stated previously, of “testimony.” Beyond that distinction, it is the only one of the stories to offer the perspectives of white tourists. To be sure, there are other white characters in the novel, but these are individuals who are, more or less, permanently established (or become so) in Haiti. Taken as a whole, the text is very spirited and generous, offering an earthy and risqué portrait of ethnosexual race relations in modern Haiti. While the character of Legba is briefly mentioned in one of the stories, he is featured only in “Heading South” but not as a speaking character. In “Beach Bar,” three of the beach boys sit at Albert’s bar and have a laugh over the women that they service. They are so different in tone from Legba, as Cantet chooses to represent him. What’s more, Haitian society is far more fluid and lively than is hinted at in the film. The young men are resourceful and clever; they give as good as they get. The sex between female tourists and black boys is on a continuum with that carried on in the society at large. Everyone does it, even Albert, who has a sexual liaison with Legba on the beach. That would certainly have complicated Cantet’s screenplay! His directorial decisions, therefore, point to a set of preoccupations that are, for the most part, absent from the original. Sex tourism is on a continuum with colonialism; it is the softer side of oppression, but it robs its impoverished victims of their humanity and dignity nevertheless. How profoundly depressing to witness the discredited narrative of colonial domination and white culpability gaining new currency by shifting the burden of guilt from men to women! The film’s takeaway forecloses any positive outlet for the older woman’s sexuality. She is alternately pitied and scorned, a resounding endorsement for celibacy! Finally, female sex tourism on film is not scandalously prurient. On the contrary, it tends toward the inane or the embarrassing. It breaks no new ground, offers no creative way out of the fixed binaries, which are already overrepresented in pop culture. It may stage certain reversals (even as it repudiates them) but does not tamper with notions of hierarchy. More importantly, the representation of sex tourism in these films resonates with a profound discomfort in matters relating to the mature woman’s sexuality. Investing that sexuality with a power that, once acknowledged, must then be domesticated or discredited, these films appear to endorse a depressing and retrograde antifeminism. Pop reviews and in-depth analyses of current and classic films from around the world.

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Conclusion In Tourism Essay Free Essays It’s very much under construction, so please bear with me and do come back from time to time to see how I have updated it. I have wondered why some people, without some commercial interest to promote, maintain websites. I suppose I do have interests in wider forms of history that I would like to publicise, and maybe this site will help. However, I think of this site as a private store in which I have placed a range of items, so that can find them! If you view this site, you are welcome to see what is in my store. I have various and varied interests, and have placed on this site matters trivial and not-so-trivial, some of my outpourings over the years. Some writings have been moved from blogs that I had maintained elsewhere. I have been tempted to produce separate “academic-related” and “trivial/personal” sites, but don’t see why the seriously frivolous should not be mixed up with the trivially serious! There is a lot less about environmental, conservation and transport history on these pages than I would hope – primarily because much has been formally published elsewhere. Links to relevant pages are on the top of this site – hover the cursor over each category to reveal sub-pages which contain specific articles. You may have been referred here from the Raymond Williams Foundation site. If so, it is best to go straight to “Raymond Williams Work”, which concerns my musings about the work of this very significant writer and critic. My involvement with the Raymond Williams Foundation makes – perhaps – a small contribution to a better world? “Bibliography” is a portentous term to describe my published output; much of it is trivial, but I may as well list it anyway. “Miscellaneous writings” are mostly pieces lifted from my blogs, musing about all sort of matters. These include “Joyce’s Ulysses”, which contains my occasional musings on that book and its author. “Local history” deals mostly with pieces about my home town of Wallasey, largely those that I wrote in the 1980s. “Personal writings” are about themes personal to me. This includes – a substantial category – “Autobiographical writings”, which record some of my scattered unpublished musings on my personal history; perhaps sentimental in places, but there is no need to read them if this deters! “Verse and Worse” contains my very limited attempts at “poetry of a sort”. Maybe I should have expressed such thoughts and feelings in prose form. “Transport history” should be expanding, but at the moment comprises “On waterways history writing – thoughts of a heretic”. This reproduces a developing series written for the Boat Museum Society’s journal , about research and writing related to inland waterways history. I am adding to this as items get written and, hopefully, published. A more recent innovation is “Joseph’s Monthly Essay”. In October 2015 I decided to write an essay, somewhat off the cuff, every month. Subjects may overlap with other concerns – notably environmental, transport and conservation history. The first one is about Venice, and certainly falls into those categories. Other categories are vacant at present, but I will be updating these as time permits. I’ve tried to keep this as simple as possible; hopefully I have succeeded! Once again, please note that the tone of these contributions varies greatly. I am from an academic background and enjoy reading academic writings, but I also feel that the purely personal is worthwhile. If so many pieces do not seem serious enough for some readers, there really is no need to read them! I am trying to work on some much more serious and rigorous themes, because I do not see the role of academics – retired or not – as solely the pursuit of specialised studies in strictly disciplined “silos”, but as a critic of all that presently exists and might exist. This may be portentous, but there are thoughts here, that if others have committed these to publication, I have yet to read them! Essays - largest database of quality sample essays and research papers on Conclusion In Tourism Essay


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