tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26526421023918399692024-03-13T11:47:27.752-07:00NEED language - will travelThis is my "bit of earth." ~ Its my "little" blogspot where I'm going to put my ideas and update those who may or may not be interested in what is going on in my life. If you aren't interested, then frankly I dont care, because this I do this for me.鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-24033815994460715272014-02-06T08:04:00.001-08:002014-02-06T08:04:19.444-08:00TRANsition
Taiwan and I. Hmmm.
Well for starters, I was determined not to have another “Korea” in my life. By that I mean that I didn’t want to develop a hatred for a country I hardly knew and then have to work through the healing process. I’ve got other shit i’d rather learn thanks.
Now the fastest way { I } know to avoid hatred is to find a way to enjoy before malcontent can set in.
So I thoroughly enjoy nature and food and knew from my previous trip to Taiwan that both of those things are all around you at all times. Boom - book me a ticket.
I came here post Philippines, so that’s another variable that I didn’t expect, but I wouldn’t say its a hindrance to my goal. In fact it might have helped get me in the right frame of mind before I came. Oh look ~ unexpected aid.
In Taiwan I expected nothing more than to accomplish the following: 1) Make a circuit from Taipei in the North, working down the west coast, stopping in the major cities and back up the east coast back to Taipei for my flight almost 2 weeks later. 2) Eat like i’m not gonna have another chance to 3) Rest and find peace for my soul.
So far i’ve done all of that except for make it back to Taipei - but i’ve got lodging booked and a general idea of how i’ll get there (not to mention 5 or so days left to do it~).
I’m now in the most “different” place in Taiwan that i’ve experienced. It’s important to note that i’ve spent the past week going down the west coast, going to night-markets, watching people and yah - I’ve been living in China for going on 3.5 years.
So when I say “different” I mean, unusual compared to all that. This is Village called DuLan, just a bit north of Taidong (台东 ~aka Taitung) whyyy oh why did i choose a village? because all the hostels in the city itself looked laaame, and i’ve been in enough cities over the past week ~ and you can see the sea from the 3rd floor of this hostel. Not gonna lie - being sandwiched between the sea and the mountains is pretty glorious.
Quick recap: up until this moment i’ve been from Taipei in the far north, to Taizhong on the central west, Tainan on the mid-south-west Kaohsiung on the sooouth west, and now over to slightly above taidong on the south east.
Geography aside: this is the most grim and hostile place i’ve been in Taiwan. Not that anyone has been mean or anything, its just that “vibe.” I wonder if its something the sea brings with it when its cool/cold? It reminds me of that grim artwork of fishing towns, where people have this calloused expression like they half-expect you to go to sea and not come back. Dark y’all.
Gloomy folk aside though ~ i’ve been to the beach 3 or 4 times just to sit there and let my heart pour out. I also climbed the road going up the mountain to an art-cafe (which if you’re ever in DuLan ~ I suggest “The Moonlight Inn (月光小栈)”) There is an awesome view of the sea, the air is super clean and the coffee is reasonable. I was expecting it to be way expensive, but the price matched the quality (reasonable...). It was an accessory to the moment lets say.
I get drawn to nature a lot. Migratory birds need to go south for the winter; I need to find a forest, stream, ocean, or mountain with some quiet vistas when the call comes.
So its a pretty conflicted place i’d say. Its odd though. Its a little spit of a village ~ i’d be quite surprised if they break 500 people, but there’s foreigners floating around all over the place. I went to a pizza place run by an italian guy who’s girlfriend works in Taipei (like 200 miles away...). He doesn’t like the city so he came down here and runs a little pizzeria out of a tin shed ~ how bout that. Yesterday I went to the old sugar factory (there’s one here too??? its not as cool at the one in KaoHsiung though...). There is a stage and they have live music weekly ~ and there was a bamboo shack off the entrance of the parking lot that has coffee and drinks etc ~ and LEGIT japanese beer sold in blue bottles. There were reindeer and snowy peaks on the front and I do believe that enhances the flavour.
How can such classy things be available in an otherwise dump-esque place? What brings people (tourists) here (and they ARE here)? is it just the vistas? There is surfing, but its on like 2 foot tall waves so I can’t say that’s it...
To spit it out solid - this has made me seriously wary of my notions of setting down a head-quarters in Alaska. Not expunged those notions, but definitely call into question. The value of geography and scenery can be sullied and distracted from by the local (albeit small) populace.
Taiwan, Taiwan. What do I have to say about you.
I think it would be easier to live here than in Mainland China. There is a lot here to make one comfortable. There is a lot of interesting, delicious, clean, polite, new. Its small, but there is a lot of good here. If I had come here first, maybe I would prefer Taiwan over Mainland.
I am glad that I didn’t come here first. I am glad that I started in the Mainland (not really an active choice, as much as it was an acceptance of fate). I’m also glad that I had my rough experience with Korea. I am glad because, through that dip in the crucible, I have learned much (burned much?).
I have learned that judging a country(culture {language}) by what they have or what they do is not wholesome. It may be “fair”, but i’ve seen that “fair” is a judgement that sucks a lot of the possible good out of the world.
Taiwan has a lot of good. So does Mainland. And the dog-eat-doggery of their relationship makes thing difficult indeed.
I’ve met wonderful people from each of these places ~ and shit heads. And whats more, I don’t care to say that because of any of my experiences, I think one should rule the other. (PS they both have {at one time or another} expressed an entitlement to the other.)
Possibly my favourite thing in this island is the night markets (their transportation is pretty legit too~) after maybe 5:30 or 6 these areas open up, and they’re available in all of the major cities I’ve been to in Taiwan. Think of any “county fair” or “carnival” that you’ve ever been to. Booths upon booths of people selling food and random stuff ~ thats a night-market. Massive variety, and abundant deliciousness at such cheapness that anyone can wander about with a nonchalant spend-happy demeanor. So thats what i’ve done for over a week. I worm my way into the flow of people and go from booth to booth looking, and when I find something that I think looks delish - I dig my heels in, and all those suckers can flow around me while I wait for my deliciousness to be made ready for me. Milk-tea in a bag, little egg cakes with shrimp tails sticking out the top, some sort of mascarpone cheese with wild berries in a footed cup, everything possible on a stick, everything possible deep fried in tempura, fried noodles in a deluxe hot-dog bun, the list goes on just as quickly as someone can think of something new and set up a booth for it.
Transportation wise ~ the trains go everywhere (admittedly, the island is like 300 miles long and there is a mountain ridge that runs down the middle, so “everywhere” isn’t exactly expansive). The have vending machines for train tickets, so you can pretty much guarantee that you’ll get where you’re wanting to go plus or minus an hour or two (pending loads eh?) Their fast train is lovely ~ but also only necessary if you are in the direst of hurries. Slow train will get you from top of the island down to the bottom in 5-6 hours, and if you’re used to Mainland China ~ that’s par for the course.
uh~.~~.~
What is there to say really?
I suppose the thing that I think is most worth saying, and ties into my trip to the Philippines, is that Taiwan is generally more developed than Mainland China, but that does not mean that it is “better.” I have said that I Taiwan is a more comfortable place than Mainland China. Neither do I count this as factor that really defines Taiwan as “better” than Mainland China.
Taiwan is cleaner, the people are more polite, and there are a lot of international comforts available around every corner. But this glorious wedge of cheese needs to be viewed with the the mouse-trap as well.
Politeness for one. The more rules there are to follow, the more judgement follows when the rules are broken. In Mainland, if I ask someone for directions somewhat vaguely, they’ll answer me, or they might not know, and they’ll tell me. In Taiwan, if I don’t know the exact name of where I want to go, or the address for the place, I might get a “oh... I don’t know what you’re talking about dude” and a half-roll of the eyes that echos the same face we’d use in the US when thinking “you should really be better prepared than this.”
???
So yah, there is more politeness, but I wouldn’t say there is more kindness here.
Cleanliness ~ the west coast (all the major cities) are noticeably polluted and covered smog~ its not a wide island. What would happen if there was an actual “inland” to this island? No more sea wind to pull of some of that stinky stank?
Littering wise, there is no comparison, Taiwan wins hands down on that front.
International stuff ~ oh its lovely. I love me some of that, cheese influenced foods, wine, international beer options. Japanese candies, Cold Stone Creamery ~ and Tieguanyin (a unique kind of tea) Ice-cream. OH my. Lots of good foods, and openness to new types of foods it seems too.
But in a way, I think so much comfort in a place like this makes you never want to leave. Its easy to weigh all of this good and say that, because of its creativity and its development, taiwan is better.
I rebel against that line though. Taiwan is a munchkin land by comparison with Mainland China, and this island has had a lot of international help (at least through economic exchange and military support), whereas the Mainland has fought for everything they have. What will happen over the next 50 years in China? I hope to see whatever portion of that time that God will leave me on this earth for.
Mainland is humongous and draws influences from all over its massive territory. The opportunities for new, and different are proportionately massive.
Let me wheel around now and talk of the Philippines for a minute and hopefully this will become clearer for you. This is not some mighty tally sheet where I am keeping score between the Mainland and Taiwan. I don’t think that kind of cosmic math will come up with “the right” kind of answer when we are trying to understand the world we are in, or the world we hope to be in.
The Philippines is a special place. I believe it’s classed as a third-world country, and that was a term that used to evoke in me the response: Aw~ how sad. They should have “more.“ I wouldn’t likely say something like that because other people would think it hateful and judgmental unless they were having the same thoughts and had voiced them first...
But I found a number of sources of “more” and “muchness” that I have not seen ANYwhere but in the Philippines.
Somehow we get caught up doing what we do in our countries, but many of us are left horribly incontent. Yet we secretly consider ourselves better off because of what we have, or have easier access to.
The most shocking point of realization for me was children. I’ll not lie ~ I don’t typically like kids. I find most of them obnoxious and gross and its always a question I have as to WHY on earth people would want to have them. Some people collect children like bits of shiny rock and show them off to the other adults. “Hey, have you seen my latest off-spring, see how it drewls? fabulous right?” And my normal internal response is that convulsive shiver that runs up my torso like my spine’s been replaced by a slimy-escaping eel.
Kids do have their bright moments, but for my part i’d say the frequency of bright to dark moments is usually on the less respectable side of the fraction. Kid by kid basis of course ~ and multi-lingualism instantly makes kids cuter to me somehow.
More personally though, I will also admit now that I do not have a feeling of congratulations and excitement for people when they say they are pregnant, or having a child. The feeling just isn’t there for me to give. When I hear that news, internally i think ~ well~ you’re life is gonna get a whole lot harder now. And thats my first thought. I don’t even really nurse an after-thought along the lines of: your life will be more enriched because of this toil later. Nope - to me thats a very insubstantial maybe. It might be enriched because of your toil through pregnancy, raising and hopefully cultivating the child. Perhaps.
But the Philippines gave me a very different look on things. I’ve forever looked at children as a burden and sources of natural discomfort like mosquitos or bed-head.
Here though, kids’re just a part of the show. Life goes on whether they stub their toe or grow up to drive a tricycle taxi. They just let them “flow.” In China kids are almost all called “treasure” and they are treated like it, and they have massive entitlement issues and give me no hope for the future. In the philippines they’re just set to roam with the other kids in herds like cattle. They run out into traffic, but the tricycle taxis (a motorcycle with a side-car that looks to me like the soviet interpretation of an amish-buggy) are all used to kids not paying attention to a single damn thing, and they swerve around them with a dexterity and tolerance that I massively respect. The kids play with each other. None of the parents is apparently concerned about the other kids being a bad influence on “their” kid, and the parents mostly let them keep their own lord-of-the-flies-esque society. Aside from them roasting one of the unfortunates of their society, pretty much anything goes. I didn’t see too much interfering.
Kids are taken along on all sorts of trips, but they are not allowed to dictate how the cookie crumbles when they are in adult society, and they are kept in line when it comes to infringing on the other adult members human experience. The kids of my host’s relatives were constantly being told to keep their voice down and this or that when they were around me, because my host was super perceptive that I can’t handle the full spectrum of “the childhood experience.” I wasn’t rude or imposing, but I can’t help but wince when a rug-rat decides to bellow his opinion to the world a foot and a half from me. Why do they progressively get closer to me? They like me often, even though I don’t think the world of them. My Co-worker was with me, and he was doing his darndest to get them to like him, but I maintained my feline semi-detached state. Thats really my problem ~ they always want what they cant have :D.
The kids in the area I was in were given a very loose leash. They were left to occupy themselves with the other kids, and they played with whatever and whoever was around. There were kids wrestling and fighting in the streets, no one stopped them. You know that old-school game in illustrations of like the 1800’s North America where there is a hoop and a stick and the kids try to keep the wheel going as long and as far as they can while they run along-side it. Yah ~ they still play that in the Philippines. And I tell you what ~ there were loads of kids playing at it all along the way ~ and I spent almost ten hours flying (slamming?) around mountain roads in a Jeepney to a different province. And they looked content. What more could you really want? something that you’re willing to be occupied by, food, friends, and love. They have all of that.
But how many kids do we have in our own stretch of the earth that are sat at home going: I thought I was gonna have some more fun today. My own niece said that when she was at headquarters (my parents home) a few years ago.
I thought it was a dreadful thing to be feeling. An expectation of fun, and then being disappointed about it.
Kids need society, but in our larger society, I see less and less kids finding it.
Yet we go about worried about whether our kids are getting “exposed” to the “right” kinds of education, society, and culture. We worry about: are we rearing our kids “correctly”. We meddle. We control instead of coax. By controlling on such a wide scale, i’d say the controlee (the kid) comes to expect that the controller will have the answers. And what happens when we have a few extra kids and that kid, that was being controlled or led about on the leash now has a bit “too much” freedom? What roads do they go down when they get all that extra leash or no leash at all and they’re open to doing all the things they were told they couldn’t but have constantly harboured a desire to do?
I don’t see the Philippinos pulling out their hair about this?!! and I am immensely impressed by their ability to cultivate, and love, and develop fantastic members of their ever widening communities. And it really is community. Everyone is allowed in. We were dwelling in an area that I would have considered a slum before I came to the Philippines. There were tin roofs everywhere, bars an all sorts of windows, narrow alleys, and ram-shackle of every shade and texture available. We stayed in the tallest building in the area (a three story building that towered over the other one and a half story dwellings nearby.) I was honestly a little worried (surreptitiously) about being judged or scorned by the locals because of it.
I hate the word “rich”. I particularly hate it because it is usually the word that people in the US use to express contempt for people who have money. It’s judgement passed on someone who has something, with a feeling of “they don't deserve it” steeped through the entirely too potent one-syllable word.
That was the sentiment that I was worried people would pass off on me because I was a foreigner (first) and because I was in the dwelling of a friend who was (at least apparently) better off than the typical member of the community.
There was NONE of that. Sometimes you get a feeling or “vibe” when you are in a group of people. Friendliness, ill will, etc. they all carry certain tangibility that is often not expressed directly with open language. This negativity was not in that place with us. And I am humbled and somewhat embarrassed by it because I know the same civility could not be seen in the majority of my first world country.
People came up to us left right and center, and there was plenty of opportunity for them to. We went around with our host ~ being that it was Fiesta (A celebration in a certain district within a province for their Patron Saint). They have some of the most gifted and well rehearsed marching bands i’ve ever seen. After high-school, where does that kind of dedication and enjoyment of skill and community exist outside of the full-professional world in the US and Canada? There were marching bands from each “Barangay (bah-rang-GUY~ the subdivision of a municipality ~ each being maybe the size of a city block? someone with more knowledge can correct me.)” Members of the bands ranged in age, stature, gender... whatever. I saw little munchkins with trumpets, and old men with those massive things that are bigger than tubas (the ones that wrap around your torso and look like funnels that willy wonka or Doctor Seuss would use.) And some of the youngest were stealing the show - there was maybe 14 year old on a drum-kit who was taking my breath away.
The majorettes ~ a term i just learned in the Philippines, were smoking out the place too. I’ve never seen a society enjoy fire-engine red lipstick quite like these Philippina ladies. And my was it pleasant to behold. Beautiful. They were feminine, but strong, and proud, and it was such a breath of fresh air.
It was innervating (videogame word) to see those girls genuinely excited to be getting into their dance routine - especially at what was obviously their favourite hip-popping part. I approve.
In the competition there were 3 sections: 20 minutes for the band routine ~ formations and what-not, 10 minutes for the majorettes to do their exposition, and there was like a 3 or so minute solo exposition by one of the majorettes, and they all brought honour to their ancestors, I tell you what. Even when they made mistakes, they just kept going (possibly while grimacing their face a little bit. I would have done mighty deeds if I could have been given a recording of their inner dialogues.)
I love China, but I am soooo put off by the frail sickly-cuteness that the majority of Chinese girls try to put on. I want nothing to do with a girl this is going to wail and fall over if I were to poke her in the shoulder with my index finger.
Philippinas ~ I would expect to look at the poked shoulder with a sneer of offense and then punch me in the face shortly after. And THATS how it should be dangit!
And no-body was tearing them down for their efforts ~ or their mistakes. A few casual jokes here or there, but nothing quite so cutting and judgmental as what I know from my own experience (giving and dealing) in the west.
The Philippinos, when regarding someone with respect (someone older, or maybe a police officer...) usually ended their sentences with “po” which has no other function apparent to me than to show respect.
For example ~ you say /salaMUT/ in Tagalog for “thank you.” Our host (62years old) asked directions of a police officer (30 som’n) and he (who was by far older) said “salamut po” and he meant it.
My hostess ~ when her dad would say something to her, but she didn’t quite hear him clearly, wouldn’t say “whaaaat??” she’d say “Po~”. That sort of genuine recognition is really touching to me. My mom will do the same thing in English in her own way, but I certainly can’t say that it reflects the majority of my country. I, being employed in the service industry for “so long” am used to using respectful/polite language, but I also know the stink of kind-words that are not backed with gold in Fort Knox if you understand me.
There is so much more, but this is what I want to share at the moment on this train of thought.
Much, much more.
To bring this 车(che1 - literally car {ref. to train}) into its 终点站 (zhong1dian3zhan4 {final destination}) what needs saying is that I have been very fortunate to know and meet the people that I have.
And here I am now in 花莲 on the east coast of Taiwan, in the shadow of the mountains, in my hostel next to a three meter long indoor koi pond drinking a beer. #hipsterking #content #y’alloughtabejealous #betterifyouwereheretoo
I in fact just met a guy from Sichuan province (mainlander) and we chatted for a while. (good ~ I need more Sichuan acquaintances).
I told him what I felt about polite societies being difficult to understand. He said that China was like a piece of paper that has been written on already, but the writing has been erased, so its easy to write on now. I thought it was a fantastic metaphor.
And thats where I wan’t to leave this installment.
I think that our chapter of history is just like my friend said ~ its like a piece of paper that has been written on and erased. Nothing is new under heaven as the wise king once said. And I think the important thing as we move forward in this chapter is to move delicately, and do what we can to engage those around us, rather than control or coddle them.
I for one don’t have any clue how to raise a child ~ which is part of why I stay FAAAAAR away from that barrel of monkeys.
But even more difficult than raising a child is managing a nation, let alone a community of nations. I’m not saying its my place to do this, and i’d be woefully ill equipped for it if it was my place.
What I am saying though is that we, as members in mutually influential societies (increasingly more so) need to learn how to live together much more effectively than we do, rather than looking for quite so many opportunities to help or control each other.
“Helping” is another part of that cosmic math I was talking about earlier. Through “helping” we are also setting ourselves up with the mind-set that we have done good, and deserve good back.
Instead, I think we need to learn to live with a respect for how much our foot-steps muddy the waters.
And that goes for us all.
鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-87685056231648401772014-02-06T07:09:00.002-08:002014-02-06T07:09:56.691-08:00The good we have to giveIn this first part, I need to apologize. If only for my self and because I feel remorse over it, I am here to say in the most childish, and non-snarky way I can: i’m sorry. No really~
Over the most recent span of time and my passage on this human journey, i’ve been reminded that my journey is not just my own, and that no one really walks this road alone. Everyone influences and is influenced by a great number of other people along the way, and that influence also has serious impact. And that impact deserves to be respected.
I say I was reminded. It really is a passive sort of thing because I didn’t pull this thought out of the ground or a river, but it came to me. It was given. Washed up on the shores of my 脑海 (nao3 brain - hai3 ocean {aka ~ stream of consciousness})as I sat stewing in my own juices.
And for that reminder I am also grateful and consider myself blessed for receiving.
But enough of this Grammy awards-type thankfulness that just keeps going on.
The thing that I am remorseful for came to me after sitting on a plane going to the Philippines. Marvelous (though hot...) country. It has changed me in so many ways, including the way I will now respect the term “third-world country” and not consider it a slur against any nation. I was in my ticketed seat when we hit some turbulence, which at the time seemed serious. It wasn’t really, but it seemed it. I’ve flown hundreds, possibly even thousands of times. Why did it bother me this time.
I’m not afraid of my own mortality. It comes to everyone, and i’m not particularly concerned with eternity at this point in my journey.
But before death there was something else that worried me. Not pain, i’m not a child. Not a need for life, I’ll take death when it is indeed my turn.
No - i had a Casper-like sort of unfinished business. I love Casper (the friendly ghost). Its one of the movies that has moved me most since my child-hood and continues to move and teach me to this day. Hits me on so many levels. However - the level in question right now is why Casper was a ghost. Ghosts stick around because they have “unfinished business.” Thats why they don’t cross over. And when Casper is there in the attic with Kat (Christina Ricci) remembering on his sled he says, “I didn’t go where I was supposed to. I just, stayed behind.” And there is something more that I can’t really quote verbatim at this hot second. Generally he was talking about how he couldn’t leave his dad alone though.
And I don’t have a word for that feeling, maybe someone can provide one for me, but the closest thing I can say to explain what I felt in that jolted seat going over the ocean towards a place i had no knowledge of was a potential-pre-regret.
The punishment that fueled my fear in that moment was the possibility of regretting/having unfinished business because I felt like I hadn’t loved “my people” enough. I felt like I had and have more to give, and I don’t mean that in a (think of what I could do if only I had the time) kind of way.
What I mean is that I have been holding back, and I have seen it. I didn’t quite know how, but that does not make me innocent, because I knew the source within myself that “held back.” On a certain level it was a choice that I made to hold back.
I dont want to talk now about the conflict that led to me to “withdrawal”, but regardless, the thing to know is that it lead me to a place where I believed it was better to hold-back to avoid vulnerability. Avoiding vulnerability is also a sort of strength, so 难怪 (nan2 difficult guai4 blame {})that was the choice I made at the time.
But if we (I) are (am) always looking for the point of strength, and choosing it over the place where we can be most full, we are effectively taking the colour out of the world. Utopia is at least worth thinking about damnit! And if we never strive for it, how can we ever achieve it? Shucks, it may be impossible, but it could be MADE possible if the rules were changed, and why shouldn’t we contribute in whatever way we have in us to contribute. Otherwise we dishonor ourselves and make ourselves out to be much less than we could possibly be. We shrink ourselves down to a compact, yet defensible ball, and wait for the tide of reality to eventually wear us down into nothing. And I will not be that ball. I will be much, much more, and if it cost me everything but the meaning that I ca bring along with me, I will take that price and know that I have been as full as my container allowed. And in that I will find my contentment. Anything else will be vile to me and I will cut and burn it off as I have to, because I find it rude, malicious and utterly against me in everything I could hope to be.
--------- interlude ---------
It took me a while, but I came to the conclusion (temporary?) that the thing I wasn’t giving or the good I wasn’t doing was sharing my journey with “mine.” There were a few prominent figures that came to my mind on that flight, but I don’t feel it prudent to mention them here. (When I say “mine”, I mean “my people”)
I need to do what I was made to do, whatever that means, but the absentee-cruelty that I do to Mine, is when I leave them out of what I am doing. So many sights, tastes, smells, people, adventures, lessons, and sources of meaning that I have come into contact with, and I have the capacity to express it. But it has taken me this long to realize that I needed to. Like sunlight and vitamins I, within myself, have needed to show my experience to Mine
if only to honour the place that they have in my life and the value that I lay upon them.
I haven’t posted a blog in ages~ any of you who care will have noticed that. If you don’t then whatever, I don’t crave attention (THAT much...) I have written some, but have found them far too personal to be able to put “up there” for everyone to see. And i’ve found loads of sound reasons not to. But The fact that I have found those reasons unbreakably sound is part of the problem i’ve described above. For a time, I was being that defensive, conservative ball that was unwilling to share.
But it is time to move on.
And I hope/ intend to express my journey to you now using whatever ability I have.鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-4960810724185485212013-11-03T16:42:00.001-08:002013-11-03T16:42:23.741-08:00Occupational HazardSo i'm rather snarky on Facebook, I know, and some people have asked me whats going on at work to make me so snarky. I thought i'd relay one of the more recent anecdotes so that people can get a taste.
As of 15 minutes ago we emailed the complaint letter which we all signed, to our boss, the principal and the chairman of the school.
That letter (which I wrote...and my Chinese translation of it will also be made available below ^_^)
The letter was signed by all 5 members of the staff ~ I don't want to put their signatures up on a random blog though... The sixth slot was signed "absent" ~ another nudge at... "hey... remember that bit where we're supposed to have a sixth teacher?"
And the reason this blog is titled "Occupational Hazard" is that I realized just how dangerous I am to hire. I'm a decent teacher, but my more honed skills are language and social-organization skills. And this is what happens when those skills are put to use. Oh dear me... will I ever get another job?? (quite probably.)
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The outgoing president of the PTA (parent teacher association) took the foreign office (and our associated Taiwanese/Chinese staff) out to an opulent dinner. It was one of those bribe-o-meals and he was "saying thanks" to us for doing a job and hoping that we would do an even better job. the PTA has one of those automatic espresso machines, and myself and the other teacher that works in the high-school side were going pretty regularly to chat and get coffee(2 teachers for about 900 students over the week) and he was giddy enough that he said he would be buying our office a coffee machine because we liked it so much. Nice gesture.
As with any of these dinners as im sure you know, theres always nice meaningful(less) speeches of thanks and this and that. He didn't speak English really, so our boss was charged with translating... which we all thought was amusing because she did a painfully skimpy job with the meaning, and even the other staff noticed. We spent quite a while talking about it too... and I helped fill in gaps that she tried to duct-tape over with words like "happy" and phrases like "thank you for your hard work"
We'll he followed through not too long after with his 4,400RMB coffee machine
Important detail, the teachers office is separate from the administrators/ chinese/taiwanese staff office (this is all under the one department in our school). So we were a bit naughty, and took the machine and installed it in our office. She wasn't there at the time. She comes back.
She says that the whole dinner schebang was the PTA president giving her respect and asking her for a favor, and this coffee machine was a gift to her. "This machine is the property of the IEC (our department)" so it needs to be taken care of, and it should be in her office "so that everybody can use it."
I conveniently brought up that the other highschool teacher and I are required to start teaching on friday at 7:45am, before ANY other offices in the school open (to one of the lowest two level classes in the 11th grade... they don't even answer yes-no questions at that hour). She caved. Ok you can keep it in here. (point for me)
Next day one of the other intermediary staff who helps us out and does this and that comes in with egg tarts for coffee time before classes start. A few minutes later, she comes in and says she wants to speak to me and my co-teacher when he comes in.
Those of us in the office start speculating because gossip is fun, and we brush onto - is this about the machine schenanigans? no it cant be... why would she want to talk to us both at the same time if that was the case... and none of the other teachers.... dunno. we'll find out.
Co-teacher shows up. We go in and...
The PTA meal was there to give respect to me, and because of it, the president of the PTA is stressing me out and always asking for more more more. blah blah blah. This machine was given to me because he wants me to do more for the English program blah blah blah. And by taking this machine without asking me, you are disrespecting me. You're like two spoiled boys. You see something nice, and you just want to take it for yourself.
And all this at 8:20... we have class at 8:40. The class I personally had was going to (and WAS) observed by she herself for professional development.
Genius foresight.
We went and taught our full load (4 classes) doing our best to not think about how fast our hearts were beating that morning.
My co-teacher talked to her "as a friend" as he puts it. She later apologized for the timing and that was big of her.
But she definitely planted a seed of contempt, particularly as that was something she couldn't restrain herself on after I am doing 5-7 more hours a week above my contract because she pissed one of the other teachers off before we even started the semester.
And thats why we have a formal letter of complaint that we've written and we've all signed.
oh and the only guaranteed OT pay i get is like 57RMB/Hour... which i told them was laughable and if anyone asked me to tutor their child for that much... I would actually laugh in their face and walk away. I'm supposedly guaranteed my bonuses and additional ones... we'll see on tuesday if they follow through. If they dont' there'll be a reckoning.
-Peter
P.S. I really shouldn't be hired by these people... i'm more trouble than i'm worth. It turns out that social and language skills are an occupational hazard.
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Dear Maria Lu,
吕慧芬主任
The following is written on behalf of all of the foreign teachers. We who have signed below agree to the following and believe that it is important to very clearly state a number of concerns that we have and have been dealing with since the beginning of term.
From the beginning of the semester, we have been very understanding of the difficulties that yourself and the IEC have faced. It is a difficult issue to find a replacement teacher in the outside of the normal pre-semester hiring seasons of summer and winter. It is not however impossible.
We the remaining foreign teachers have all accommodated the extra classes and additional students into our schedules. This has however created a number of issues. Extra classes of course means completely separate planning periods are necessary. Double students in turn means double marking, particularly for each of the Bilingual teachers. This additional burden wears heavily on us teachers, and limits our ability to provide well planned and creative lessons.
The students also receive a negative impact from the situation. Doubled class sizes in a class with the aim of encouraging conversation means that each student is getting less than half of the one on one attention they would be getting otherwise. They are also required to be in classes that may be less stimulating because teachers’ preparation and grading time is diminished and their attitudes are deteriorating.
We as the teaching staff took on this additional work before the first week of classes as a short term solution. We expected that another teacher would be found to fill the necessary gap in our staffing. That gap has not been filled. We have instead been required to carry on wearily without even the hope that our contracted work hours would be given to us.
The question we have all asked ourselves is how the solution would be solved if one of us were to become seriously ill, or if someone were to resign. How would the staffing problem be solved then? We expected the problem to be addressed with the same seriousness as either of those situations. It has not been.
We do not feel that this situation is being treated with the appropriate seriousness, and the lack of sufficient action has lead to a stressful working environment and is hindering our ability to do our jobs to the best of our ability.
Name: Name:
Name: Name:
Name: Name:
(繁體版)
這封信是代表全體外教的心聲和思想。下面簽名的諸位同意這封信的內容而且認為向我們的管理層負責解釋以下情況是很重要的。這些事情是從開學的時候直到現在有的。
開學時我們很理解立刻招聘一位外教對我們的部門帶來的麻煩和壓力是不小的,特別在學期中。不過, 招聘一位外教並不是不可能的。
我們剩下的這些外教都接受了那些額外的課和學生。這一切對我們的課程, 備課,安排等都有影響。多加上的幾節課代表老師也需要多幾小時安排。多加的學生也代表老師需要修改更多的功課。這種影響對資源班老師更大。這增加的負擔對老師很有影響而且也造成對我們備課,上課等質量的降低。
學生也是因這種情況受到不好的影響。兩倍大的口語課就意味每一位學生隻能接受一半的注意和培訓支持。同學也需要接受越來越簡單,沒趣的課因為老師的備課時間已經被用完。因此老師及全班都感覺難過。
最初我們接受加課是為了暫時滿足課程的需要。我們都在期待必要的那一位新老師的到來。可是這一位一直沒有出現。我們還是在渴望的期待,即使我們的工作量超過了, 而且還是沒有將來接受幫助的盼望。
我們都在想,如果任何一位外教生嚴重的病,或者有人辭職,怎麼辦?主任會怎麼樣解決問題?我們都認為主任會去想這個問題,並設法趕快找到一位老師。但是,在我們看來主任並沒有這麼處理問題。
我們都認為這件事情沒有得到令人滿意或認真或嚴肅的看待。這一切給我們很多壓力而且妨礙我們做最專業的老師。
简体(原版)
这封信是代表全体外教的心声和思想。下面签名的诸位同意这封信的内容而且认为向我们的管理层负责解释以下情况是很重要的。这些事情是从开学的时候直到现在有的。
开学时我们很理解立刻招聘一位外教对我们的部门带来的麻烦和压力是不小的,特别在学期中。不过, 招聘一位外教并不是不可能的。
我们剩下的这些外教都接受了那些额外的课和学生。这一切对我们的课程, 备课,安排等都有影响。多加上的几节课代表老师也需要多几小时安排。多加的学生也代表老师需要修改更多的功课。这种影响对资源班老师更大。这增加的负担对老师很有影响而且也造成对我们备课,上课等质量的降低。
学生也是因这种情况受到不好的影响。两倍大的口语课就意味每一位学生只能接受一半的注意和培训支持。同学也需要接受越来越简单,没趣的课因为老师的备课时间已经被用完。因此老师及全班都感觉难过。
最初我们接受加课是为了暂时满足课程的需要。我们都在期待必要的那一位新老师的到来。可是这一位一直没有出现。我们还是在渴望的期待,即使我们的工作量超过了, 而且还是没有将来接受帮助的盼望。
我们都在想,如果任何一位外教生严重的病,或者有人辞职,怎么办?主任会怎么样解决问题?我们都认为主任会去想这个问题,并设法赶快找到一位老师。但是,在我们看来主任并没有这么处理问题。
我们都认为这件事情没有得到令人满意或认真或严肃的看待。这一切给我们很多压力而且妨碍我们做最专业的老师。
鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-64405331101478147892013-09-03T02:05:00.001-07:002013-09-03T02:05:24.671-07:00Of Thorns and FencesThis blog needs a bit of a prologue, because it may not make complete sense with out a bit of context. The following is excerpts and adaptations of a letter I sent to my sister, but it explains a lot of why I haven’t been blogging for a rather long time, or at least leads to the areas of my life that have led to the non-bloggage. The original letter was a fair bit more transparent, but I don’t really want to share those details with community of readers, because it was a personal affair, and therefore ain’t none-yo dam buziness.
There will be times (despite my efforts) that you’ll see the second person used in a very direct way. Its a letter, and there were times where changing the direction for a general audience would kill the meaning, so I left them.
Otherwise, be aware that there are some gaps in this blog, but I hope that you can benefit from the roads that i’ve gone down in life.
Here’s to growing, and becoming the person you want to be~
- - - - - - - - --- - - - - - - - -
I’ve recently been reading the 5th Harry Potter (Order of the Phoenix) in Mandarin (like 20% through woop woop!). Towards the end of the 4th book I started thinking Harry was kind of a whiney bitch and I wasn’t really appreciating his attitude. However, as I get into book five I realize that maybe the reason I think he’s a whiney bitch is because I have the same line of reasoning that he does in a lot of situations, like an embarrassing amount of his inner dialogue in book 5 is stuff i’ve felt/thought before and or am thinking now. Maybe thats everybody, and that might explain why J.K. Rowling is the wealthiest author, I believe in the history of the world...She’s a saint in my eyes at least.
I keep on walking down this path of life and I find that I’m not following the lessons i’ve learned from the past. There are nuggets of wisdom that i’ve been blessed to discover, or have had shown to me, and some of those things are as follows:
feeling is better than not ~ even if it sucks
communication is better than ignorance ~ always
I was taking a shower a minute ago and had one of those stereotypical shower-epiphanies.
I’ve been envying Harry Potter because of his legitimate shitty mood and I was wishing that I had good reasons to have a shitty mood. HAH! wrap your mind around that one for me if you will.
Then it became conscious to me that I was envying him.
Then I took one step further and asked myself why i’ve not been “living” enough to have mountains and valleys of feeling.
And thats when I put my foot in the pile of a shitty situation that it is and accepted within myself that i’ve been putting up fences left and right to keep myself safe.
I’m an old man. I’m now at a stage of life where I subconsciously believe that routine, fences and boundaries of many types make your life better. They help avoid destruction, and slow growth is better than destruction right? (The little ghost that hides in my ribs is making a ruckus telling me I’m full of shit.)
On his soap-box a man who thought he was “setting me straight” told me that the difference between children and adults is impulse and habits. Children act on their impulses and just do whatever, and when you start making habits and get into a routine is when you become an adult. Its one definition, one that I totally reviled at the time of course, but he definitely has a sort of point.
What I’m trying to get at with all this babble is that i’m an old man, but not the type of old man that I always wanted to be as that kid running around in a speedo.
I’ve put up fences and decided that communicating with you is not the best thing for me to do.
But here I am on the cusp of a cliff realizing that I’m killing off part of who I am by not communicating to some of the people closest to me because of burns that i’ve taken in some of the exchanges that i’ve been a part of.
Its all my choice, whether I do or dont reach out for that communication.
I’m not innocent. I’ve done my share of throwing fire too, but one learns either way to give wide breadth to a hot stove when they see one.
My logic has been that 80-90% of the time I don’t have anything nice to say, so I just shouldn’t. Adding to that with my two cents is doing these people no service, and in fact is much more of a disservice in many cases.
~~~
I also feel it prudent at this second to say that i’ve only had 1 beer tonight, and even that was 4 hours ago so this isn’t booze talking.
~~~
Honestly ~ when I need to get something done, I have to channel you with my Ouija Board and black candles. For instance, when I had to defraud my last company in order to get money that I was contractually owed (therefore its not actually fraud... btw...). I had to book a flight, send the receipt to the HR department, call Delta, get to the right people, explain in my most composed customer service persona that I no longer needed the ticket, and thus get my money refunded in full.
I myself and only me couldn’t or perhaps at least wouldn’t have done that. But you left a mark. How dare you :p
I really am a vindictive creature sometimes. My 2nd year in China helped me realize that a lot. That was when I was escaping my vicious boss, maybe you remember. The reason I realized how vindictive I could be is because I was able to anticipate all of the nasty things she would want to do after I left her company, and prepare for them or avoid them all-together. If I could anticipate those things and have incite into the way those thoughts work though, that shows you how much my brain can work that way though.
Daniel (Lion’s den, that one....) had a phrase in one of this prayers that I really appreciated. When God revealed Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, and its meaning he said... (among other things) “... he knows what lies in darkness, and light dwells with him. 2:22”
I hope to be a person that “light dwells with,” but as of yet, there is still a lot of my heart that lies in darkness, and I can be a very bitter creature. Thats another of those fences that God is going to have to help me over, because otherwise part of me very much so wants to hold onto my bitterness. I find it validating. To grieve when you’re offended, to hate when you’ve been wronged, its what you’re entitled to right? those are the rules. The rules say I get to feel this way.
Small consolation though, and in the end it doesn’t really bring you anything that you get to keep. You just get to stay at the same level, or go back, no moving forward.
Its really the same problem that I had with Korea. I had my preconceived notions about what was going to happen. Those things didn’t happen, and instead, I got bitten like 50 times in the ass because of the way I was going about things. So instead of continuing to learn I subconsciously put up a granite wall, because why the @#(% would I want to persevere through that to better understand people I DONT like? Fuck that AND them.
And that attitude RUINED a lot. It distracted me from the fact that I had a gazillion friends while I was in Korea, and had a large number of really unique experiences while I was there. But I burn’t my fingers on the stove, so fuck cooking!
I went back to Korea last year for a friends wedding (after a year of being away from Korea) and I saw the country with a rather different set of eyes. I’d be lying if I said they were completely different, but its true that it was RATHER different.
I met some amazing people, because of the friends that I was blessed with the first time around.
And even tonight, as I sit here pulling this thorn out of my heart, I have to admit that I’m tangibly excited when I hear Korean, or see Korean people/ Korean things. Its like theres this awkward dichotomy between wanting to dislike them and at the same time having a sort of natural resonance with what they are.
I think my personality and natural state is a little too close to Korean culture, but I wasn’t willing to adapt to some key issues in their way of viewing the world, and they (as a society) sure as hell weren’t willing to adapt to mine (hah~ what a farfetched notion eh? an entire society changing to fit my world-view...)
All that is to say, Prejudice, Fences and lashing back at offenses that I TAKE are becoming more of a theme in my life, and its ruining whole swatches of my human experience.
I can’t say that I’ll let down my guard, but I can say that I will keep looking for ways to get over
and I don’t know how to finish that sentence.
That was a really difficult and uncomfortable moment. I actually recoiled and my shoulders tightened as I tried to find the words to finish it.
All this is like textbook explanation of the parable of the sower by the way. I never really understood it, but the more I wrestle with my decrepit values, the more I understand just how much I’m missing, and just how much I need what God is giving.
So parable of the sower ~ scattering seed, some falls on the road to be eaten by birds, some falls on the rocky zone, grows up quickly and withers quickly b/c it has no root, some falls among the thorns ~ which also grow up, and choke the plants, and then there is the seed that grows in the good soil where it produces a massive crop.
I am those thorns. Left to myself, without “the love I need to see me through” that Florence + the Machine sing about, i’d choke the life out of every last worthwhile thing. These thorns want to grow up too.
As I go to write down in my little book the connection between the parable I was just writing about, I notice that not too long ago, there was another quote that caught my attention, and i’ll write it down here for you so that you can see some of the continuity that i’ve got going on in my life (at least on paper.).
“Break up your unplowed ground, and do not sow among thorns... circumcise your hearts... or my wrath will break out and burn like fire because of the evil you have done - burn with no one to quench it.” (Jeremiah 4:3)
So here is me, trying to pull up some of the thorns that I tend.
鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-69846990367153944542012-11-27T04:41:00.002-08:002012-11-27T04:41:39.693-08:00Gothic HipsterShould Americans Learn Foreign Languages?
In my classes we’ve been doing a lot of debates, and i’ve become overly fond of being the devil’s advocate just so that there’s at long last some meaning in the debates. Whorishly pathetic reasoning sometimes. I suppose I and mine were like that when we first went through debate classes though... and we had a full semester to do it (and that was just high school).
I won’t say that this is the same scenario. You can guess if you want ^_^ .(still... your guess may or may not be true. I’ll give no statistics at this time.)
Should Americans learn foreign languages? I’ve got this splinter of a question working its way into my bones right now. Its kind of excruciating and I was hiding under three layers of covers last night as a juvenile comfort from the question I was asking and had already half-way answered. Actually... I think i’d 75% answered it and was mostly refusing to fully acknowledge my answer.
It burns... like The Clap... in some not nice places (not quite the same place mind you).
But enough of skirting, because I enjoy it plenty, but its bound to be frustrating as hell for anyone who’d actually go through the effort to read through this.
There are those of us who are white as bread, and equally as devoid of origin. We are nothing like wheat, even though we’d like to be. Bleached and “refined” and then moulded into a shape that is pleasing to somebody with a nice fluffy texture. But we are not as wheat was. We dont have the same taste or value even. We do not nourish, no matter how hard we try, and healthy additives are just a joke.
Why wouldn’t you just go with whole wheat to begin with?
What is this crack-pot metaphor about actually ~ lets parable it down a notch.
As Americans, we can ethnically be divided into about 3 groups (4 if you want to dig a bit more). 1) Advanced age Recent arrivals with a different mother tongue than English, 2) 2nd Generations or those who came young with a different mother tongue but through sweat and toil get to a stage where they are bi-lingual(+) in a way that would shake the foundations of the cosmos and, 3) white breads who have either some or no interest in language learning: the best of which get pretty good, but members of the 1st language (that is to say the members of the community of the foreign language that they studied) may still carry a divisive disdain for their language level and or efforts.
(the fourth group would be the theoretical possibility of those who are distinctly from a different mother tongue, but become good enough to sneak into position #2 where the 1st language community doesn’t recognize much of a language difference. Dunno about these folks.)
White bread though (“other” mother-tongue speakers... or the average American) may celebrate or despise their “refinement” and there is of course the whole spectrum in between.
My predicament, and leukemia grade bone poisoning quandary is whether or not white-bread has any place even joining the bakery for competition in hope for sale. Does white bread want to go home and be consumed by the obese consumer with no palate? White bread wants to be enjoyed and appreciated for its own fullness too?
I think white bread is afraid of being seen as having no fullness. {Maybe} it even goes so far as to say that white bread is afraid of having no fullness ~ and of the possibility of waking up to a reality where hope is the same thing as delusion.
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I went on top of my mountain today. I like to call it my mountain because there’s rocks on top. I don’t think it actually has to do very much with its actual height. I might very much enjoy going back to the North American West-Coast region and have my definition adjusted.
I love it on that height because truth seems more truthful. The wind tears out of nowhere b/c its the highest thing close by and I could see the sun set before me and the moon was rising in near-fullness behind me... The White Face as Gollum would call it. Theres a bit (which i’ve actually yet to come-across in this re-read of the “trilogy”) where Gollum says: “They do not see what lies ahead when sun has failed and moon is dead.” and that is how I feel. It is no comfort to me. Neither is it the seal on my scroll of despair, b/c there is a suspicion that b/c I do not know.. there is in fact something to know.
One of the moments of clarity I experienced while I was in my barren place was that i’ve become much more treacherously patient than I was a few years ago, but i’ve also become much more desperately polar than I was. (i’ve taken a liking to the words barren and desolate since before I went to Korea when I was flying over the north-pole in winter. Put that on your bucket list, its one of the most impacting things i’ve ever seen.)
I say treacherously patient because I used to be so exasperated by a lack of calling, but I have been developing into this “place” where I have become more willing to wait until my potential matures into reality. The rough thing is that this “maturation” is coming as I am becoming more paranoid about my limitations and how much closer the ground my potential seems.
This is not a comparison with my contemporaries.
I am not quite so much concerned with what people around me have or are capable of doing. I’m disturbed by what could be done.
If there are those who can and do have mastery over languages and cultures and are offering them to pharaoh, then what is it to keep me, the amateur, from making bricks??
And then there is Harriet Tubman--- Moses... Who not only defied pharaoh and the bricks he demanded, the structure he wanted to build and the laws that he would lay, and became one of the most heroic people of all time. She defied her position as a slave and managed to not only lead a gazillion slaves to freedom, but put a slack-ass would-be husband in her past, wrote her place in history and stamped her intricate sigil on the hearts of many... though far fewer acknowledge her than she actually deserved.
Idiots... and petty interests... are what have put that woman in a lesser place than she deserves.
Most (some) Americans know that Ms. Tubman led a large number of her people to freedom, but what many do not know is that she was so effective in scouting and espionage that she was put in charge of hundreds plus (ranging into the thousands range I believe... lacking sources at the moment) to do raids during the civil war... AND she died at the ripe old age of 93 from pneumonia.
Few have her verve - even less who were dealt a shittier hand of cards.
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One of the things that has been coming with me on this descent into age and morbid wisdom is a preoccupation with “bones”.
There is a phrase in Chinese that I heard in my chinese version of Harry Potter that literally means to hate something to the bone.
Now when I talk about my preoccupation, I am not always talking about hate. What I am talking about though is that more and more, questions seem to be shaking and questioning the foundation of what I am. More and more it is like my structure and my foundation are threatened ~ if not simply called into question (same thing).
And I find that I am in fact a very fragile creature.
One moment I feel like I can control the cosmos with my fingertips and the next, I’m blown over and shattered.
I am a gothic hipster.
I had a gloriously foul tuesday(my mid-week weekend) two or three weeks ago. I realized that I was a gothic hipster when I finally broke and went to Pizza Hut b/c I was craving crispy carbs (all they’ve got in this interpretation of chinese food is chewy carbs). Some yokel was goading his kid into saying hello to me and I was having none of it. So what did I do? like a refined, tactful North-American, I took out my ipod and made a minor show of putting in my ear buds and also took out my moleskin journal and designer pen. (this is where the genuinely interesting people say --- you hipster trash!) That nipped that notion in the bud right effectively. I ordered my pizza and ate it... and then payed for it... and then left.
But in the process of sitting there and waiting for the thing to arrive so i’d have something to do with my mouth for once, I started writing exactly what was going through my head. I was feeling really base at the moment, so I wasn’t exactly thinking through things, but things just sort of “came.”
I asked myself, “why do they have to stare at me like i’m some sort of animal in the zoo?”
And before I even finished writing the sentence, it struck me: “Why do I assume that they have to stare at me like I’m an animal in the zoo?” ~Do I need validation so much that I am imagining gawking and (not at that moment... but in others) downright ill-will so that at least someone is focusing on me enough to give me ill will?
I realized that im a total “gothic hipster”, because I am seeking for validation by being so un-known and misunderstood that I am envisioning scenarios where people are too boobish or boring to actually interact with me.
Holy crap... I’m the theme of many a vengeful song by broken hearted girls. Dido sings one called “See you when you’re 40” Katy Perry “You’re so gay” (no judging!! : p)
Well... the answer... as with many problems... is alcohol... eccentric prayer... and sleep.
It may not BRING answers in a timely fashion... but it is at least an answer to the problem (otherwise known as a response.)
---
So I suppose I should go full circle and answer my first question, at least in some capacity.
Should American’s learn another language. Hell... if it fires your sun- absolutely. If you’re stuck too far in that corner of the room that you call life... YAH -- figure out there are more people in the room than you. You might like some of them.
If your sense of meaning and self-worth is based on the your knowledge or capacity to learn (another/other) language(s) ... I don’t want to answer this one.
鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-74707548358860318222012-08-26T02:03:00.001-07:002012-08-26T02:03:49.056-07:00Dalian and The LoraxBeer-sickles may be the most entertaining thing all day. Maybe not the most fulfilling, but probably the most entertaining (but its only 2 o’clock so who knows whats around the river bend. Pocahontas maybe.)
Yesterday I put several cans o’beer in the freezer because they were room temperature, and the little mini-fridge/freezer hadn’t been plugged in. This was around 3pm I proceeded to pass out like the suffering jet-lagger I am, and boopitie shoobop ~ twilight comes around and I realize i’ve doomed my sleep schedule. Gotta start making good habits while you can but... aaaah heck ~ toss the repercussions... im tired.
One thing leads to another I wake up at 1:30am and I go through the night until the sun starts to come up again around 5:00 and then take a nap and wake up at 7:30. I finally realize that I should brave the freezer and see if all my cans-o-beer have exploded.
What magic ~ not a one of them did. So I moved them to my fridge in the morning and went to climb this mountain/ steep hill thats on campus. its about a 10 minute jaunt to the top of it (past the heaps of peoples trash : / and the cellphone tower : / ... the Lorax would not be pleased im sure). At the top is one of the more breath-taking views of the open sea that i’ve seen in quite a while. I’ll get you all pictures the next time I go up and take my camera (might be a while... or might be very soon ~ the crux is me remembering to take the camera. If only I had an iphone eh?)
So anyhow, after lunch I took one out ~ still yet unbusted and put it in my New Zealand cozy and flicked the top twice. The question going through my head with my finger on the tab (Chinese beer cans have the pull tabs by the way~ the oldschool ones that actually pull off the metal opening completely) ~the question was... when beer is frozen... what happens to the carbon dioxide. WELL! It didn’t bust so lets find out.
SCHPLAT! some how this pressurized vessel managed a 360* splash zone from a small hole in the top. My glasses, my computer screen, the wall, the closet... we all got spritzed.
Evidently its still got some spunk even when its been frozen.
Also... alcohol and water freeze a different temperatures (water freezes first...). One of the quirks of a beer-cicle is that once you pop the fun dont stop... no seriously... you kind of have to steadily drink it or the ice will displace too much liquid and it’ll flow all over your desk as it melts. SEEEE?!?!! science is fun.
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But a little bit about the city I live in: Dalian
The first person I met when I got to the airport and fetched my luggage (praise be, it was all there) was a super awesome guy named James. He’s from inner-mongolia, which pretty much instantly makes him famous in my eyes. All you have to do is say it and I’m all eyes and ears. And then he has to go and seal the deal by being interesting on his own. Shucks.
We take a taxi through a kind of ghetto part of town that evidently sells funeral supply stuff. I asked if the next area was gonna be babies and then weddings: get the whole spectrum of life right?. (so darn clever of me)
All the while there are 2-3 things ringing in my head: this is real China and they’re not trying to hide it, the air is clear and I can actually breathe (a step up from my previous city for sure), and finally ~ there is so much potential for this place to be a great new stomping grounds for me.
We got me to my apartment which is on campus and “cozy.” now I just have to make it homey : / Where’s that box with all my flags that I mailed here...? I’ll have to ask someone about that on monday.
The place is swarming with dragon flies and I mean by the thousands. And my personal favourite common bird: the Azure-winged Magpie. Though I do really like crows too.
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Randomalia aside I have a question for everyone: do you think emotional susceptibility changes based on other events that happen in your life?
For example ~ people like me have an irritation-o-meter and the more irritated we get, the more likely we are to blow up about small insignificant things.
But the same applies for other emotions too. Like the other day I came in and saw Dalian for the first time, and I was so elated that the ghetto-ness of my apartment even made me laugh. (there is a booby-trap switch out of the three for the bathroom that will flip the circuit breaker... that seems to be its only function: to mess up your midnight bathroom trip...)
These are two fairly superficial examples, but I think (and for myself I know) that it applies for deeper more shaking emotions too.
To be transparent - I’ve left home to cross the big water 3 times now. Each time has been different, and this time has been incredibly potent. I suppose part of me expected it to be easier (the second time was pretty easy, but this third time was about as potent and moving for me as the first.)
Without getting into the details of how that happened, we’ll say for now that I was basically in mourning over leaving my people this time. OK I guess i’ll give some of the why and how.
I never really expected to be as close to my family as i’ve gotten. That might confuse you, but I don’t care. Be shocked and amazed if you want.
But each step forward that I take in finding who I am, I have also found that i’ve taken another step closer to understanding and wanting to understand these incredible people in my nuclear family (sorry extended family... you’re still on audition : / )
And so to leave them, even though it was completely of my own doing and volition, and definitely the healthy step that I need and want to take, was a separation that I really lament.
I started writing something on the topic earlier and i’ll copy paste that in here now. Some of it will be redundant, but it might interest you to see some of the differences in my writing that show up when I write in different moods:
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It always feel so funerary when im about to cross the big water. There’s this feeling like you know the end of what you’re doing now is coming to the end, and you can feel yourself carried towards this “wall of the end” but never know what to expect next. You don’t feel like there is the other side, nor that there isn’t another side, but all you know is that this right now - is ending.
I’ve been so touched this last trip home, because I saw, felt and over-all experienced such an immense love and closeness with my people. I never really thought that i’d be in that boat~ where I was so emotionally moved by that kind of separating from my family. This is the third time. And this time in some ways has been the most potent.
I think its one of the most healthy and sobering things to feel sadness every so often. And as I have dealt with my sadness today I chose instead of suppressing it, to let it wash over me. Not to wallow in it and count it a misfortune, but to bathe in the feeling and let it remind me of how deeply loved I truly am. Sorrow in most situations is a recognition of lacking or loss. We talk of mourning, but you can’t mourn unless you had something worth having in the first place; so it was a deep and extensive reserve that breached the boundaries of its container within me today: because I have been so blessed and loved so well as to be worth mourning.
And I consider that power. I consider that a measure of wealth that has been invested in our lives. And I want as much of that joy and the mourning as my little bones can take.
I think to limit our experience of emotion and what they are there to tell us, is a form of robbery. We pillage and loot the depth of what we have had, and are having, and will have if we are so fortunate~ if we don’t recognize and embrace our emotions and seek to understand them.
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I watched a movie about C.S. Lewis and his coping with the death of his wife by cancer. He made a statement in their letters ~ one of which was along the lines of: We are only living in a world of shadows, real life has not yet begun.
----------------------
So thats another part of me for you, not that I imagine it surprises anyone that im super emotional (part of being a drama-queen I suppose).
And to round this bit off and finish asking my question about my emotional susceptibility theory...
I just watched the Lorax on recommendation of my sister and a friend from Zhengzhou... well he’s from Mexico but anyhow...
And I was moved to tears by certain parts of it, and im pretty sure it wasn’t just the movie itself.
I tried to explain my take on emotions to someone in the past few months and one of the metaphors that I really stick with is the door in the chest idea. It all goes back to love I think. happiness, sadness, anger, frustration, infatuation, theres a whole slew of “emotions” that come and go without your bidding, and you can’t really do much about them. You can bottle them, or you can experience them. Sometimes that means ulcers, sometimes that means venting them ~ and how you do that is your business. But love, in its many varieties, has a profound effect on, i would venture to say, all of those other emotions. It imbues and augments each of the emotions in a different way.
So im here watching the Lorax, and these things that i’d normally brush off my shoulders are all the sudden bringing me to the brink of tears.
What gives yo?鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-78259604957704446582012-08-06T16:48:00.002-07:002012-08-06T16:48:42.292-07:00CreativityWhen I was younger, and even today if you talk to my mom : p, people would talk about how creative I was/am. But I question these kinds of statements. Am I really?
I think “creative” is a word thats inherently bathed in subjectivity. It IS whatever the bump you want it to be. Thats the evasive beauty of it. But that seems like a load of faux-inspirational hooey to me, and I was thinking today about whether or not I really am creative.
Some say im creative, but in many ways im just derivative. I see a lot of things. I hear, I feel and I taste just like anybody. Most of what I do is just copy and paste what i’ve perceived before in different contexts and combinations. Am I really creating anything new then? or do I just fractionally perpetuate? Frustrating thought really, but generalities don’t rule out possibility.
How do we dream? What is the difference between taking the road already traveled and doing it as best you can and blazing your own trail. Blazing~ burning and forcing yourself into a place that wasn’t open before. Such an aggressive term.
Hard work always seems to be connected with success. Sadly enough though its not, at least from what I’ve seen. You can plow on doggedly in pursuit of what was done before, or no real goal in particular... but do you really accomplish what you were looking for?
Correct answer is NO because you didn’t know what you were looking for in the first place. You (I) just wanted to “succeed”. Terribly dissatisfying because it never comes to you (me) if you don’t know what your actually looking for : /
~~
This might be completely unrelated on the face of it but i’m gonna talk about it anyway and you can try to bridge the gap or you can just enjoy the ride. And if you dont want to do either of those then you can just sod off and leave me be (snoot of derision to THOSE people).
My oldest sister and I were talking the other day about learning styles and the way that we go about remembering things best. Granted this is probably after a conversation about how much we’ve forgotten owing to the effects of binge drinking... but thats a side trail.
She and I both identify as more kinesthetic learners in a way because we both learn by doing, but we have some pretty key differences, even in that. She says that most of her best thinking is done when she’s doing strenuous exercise, and im just the opposite. When I exercise heavily I get very distracted and my thoughts are often very erratic (not erotic- mind you). No. I suppose a good part of my best thinking is done when im cleaning. A menial task that makes me be more observant and more thorough and gives me a feeling of accomplishment. It makes me feel like im actually going into the realm of something “good” and my entire being thrums in harmony with a clean, smooth and intuitively organized environment.
Its a small thing then when you consider how easy it is to put me in a bad mood by scattering small bits of bullshit in “my space.” things like sand... crackers... sticky bits of childhood, liquid.... or God-forbid ~ crumpled-apart styrofoam. The static electricity that that stuff picks up and its super-light air-susceptible nature make it wildly frustrating for me.
But back to cleaning and Zen.
I like washing dishes most I think. Warm water and a finishing line. Its a good way to “earn your dirty” as my second sister would say~ to earn the right to be tired by having done something worth-while.
WELL! I just earned my dirty by tearing apart the kitchen yet again in my conquest of making this place a little bit less ridiculous.
My favourite thing is to take things that dont belong where they are - and throw them. My train of thought is: if its somewhere it doesn’t belong, then it doesn’t matter if I throw it somewhere else it doesn’t belong. Also im gonna sweep anyway. AND the most fun part is watching people crouch in surf-like fear as missiles go flying about the room in every-which way while I go about my business. I figure it has more impact and just MAYBE they’ll think twice about putting shit where it don’t belong!
I might be mistaken... but im willing to enjoy it regardless ^_^ Now THATS good gambling.
Anywho~ I think the thing that makes cleaning so stimulating for my train of thought is that it gets my mental momentum going. Im huge into synergy, and I think this is just another one of those things. I can accomplish mountains of work as long as I know what im going to do and how to accomplish it. Otherwise ~ relatively simple tasks can make me want to do nothing more than take a nap.
And I really do think that environment has a huge impact on people perhaps most importantly on a passive and subconscious level. What the hey ~ the more we can do to get ourselves walking with the right foot forward the better as far as I’m concerned.
In fact I was recently in Petsmart with my champion of brother who has a horse of a dog. We were getting him some sort of specific dog food that he likes for its magical health and non-gas producing qualities (red meat... evidently is the gassy killer). And while wandering around trying to find a customer service representative to help us find the humongo bag, I noticed the aquaria and subsequent fish. And I went BOOM! Headshot! That would be the PERFECT pet for me as I travel all over the world. Relatively low cost and I can have something that doesn’t live super long anyway. I’d love to have a cat and/or birds but I just cant respect myself to knowingly get an animal that can live an upwards of 20 years when im only gonna be in a place for 1-2 or something under 5 and have no real intent (or ability) to bring them with me. But Guppies only live like 4 years under the best of conditions and they breed like lies among slutty teenagers.
ohhhhh weary sigh though y’all.
So i’ve done two things in the time since starting this post: googled “what does it mean to dream big” and used my mac-standard dictionary (the thing is just delicious) to look up creative.
The definition search yielded the following: relating to or involving the imagination or original ideas, especially in the production of an artistic work.
It also had a bit of a debate similar to the one I posted above about derivative vs. creative. They also suggested a few other more specific words to replace creative in certain instances:
Original, Imaginative, Inventive, and Resourceful ~ and I thought it was an interesting sort of list.
I think this list is interesting and important because, as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I think people hide behind the word creative. They use it to spread around fluffy feelings, and the beef i’ve got with that is that fake compliments are hardly more than farts in the wind. They carry good intentions... maybe... but how can anyone be expected to take a compliment to heart if its not grounded in any sort of truth? In fact a compliment that the receiver knows to be a lie (calling a troll beautiful and relying on that “in the eye of the beholder” schtick for example) is more than likely to create mistrust and just further doubt and questioning on the issue.
And while im on the issue ~ please don’t fake happiness. Christians and religious folk are some of the worst perpetrators of this life-crime b/c they feel its their responsibility to show the world how “good” their lives are ~ doubtlessly because of how “good” religion is. And I say this as someone raised in a Christian house and Christian community... and have seen FAAAAR more than my fair share of fake lives.
But to pretend that everything is delicious and that every moment is “just a joy” then I think we’re covering over the spectrum of life and numbing the clarity of truth. This type of life leads to a lot of treading softly and builds personal closets that we subconsciously know we just shouldn’t open.
And I regard that as sub-par. I want the full spectrum and I’m gonna claw and bite my way to it regardless of those who think I shouldn’t.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things. (phil 4:8)
Is this where we get off track with that “nice stuff only” attitude?
And I ask each and every one of you - is truth what it claims to be unless it is in its entirety? If there is only part of the truth, does it remain “the truth”?
Life, and subsequently everything in it, has its ups and downs. Where are dreams, there are also nightmares, where there is explosive laughter there is also bitter sorrow, and to not even acknowledge the other parts of these wholes is to spit on and disrespect the whole itself.
Anyhow thats my diatribe on that... (Exit soap-box stage left)
So on to the second thing: I googled “what does it mean to {dream big}.” I’ve had so many people tell me to dream bigger.
I don’t really dream ~ that or im constantly dreaming. This or that.
But I wanted to know what other people thought the definition for the thing was, and so I googled it ~ like I do all good questions.
And the first page had nothing but one good hit and the rest was either complete bollocks or faux-inspirational tripe. Just like “creativity” ~ “dream big” seems to be this mantra that people hide behind to make the world seem uplifting and supportive without actually having to do any of that pesky supporting or uplifting. Trash.
So the one good hit had like one good comment and then a bunch of mildly interesting fluff (probably more succinct in its mildly interestingness than mine... ~snark)
To go on though ~ she talked about “creating a life” and living creatively. Fairly non-committal things but she did cue me off on another thought:
How much of creativity was really just looking at a context in a new/different way? How do we solve new problems that spring up? How do mechanics fix your car? Anywhich way it all starts with knowing what the situation is, and the more intimately that we know what the thing is, the more freedom we have to explore ways to solve it. And even if its not a problem, what if its just something that just “is”?
My brother, his girl-friend and I were talking about Picasso because of one of her frankly disturbing dreams the night before and my brother mentioned an artist called Salvatore Dali. I only knew about the Melting Clocks thing he did. He’s got lots of other goofy awesome/ disturbing stuff.
And you know we call these people ~ these artists ~ great imaginative “creative” folk. But I ask myself why, and there is a huge part of me that screams out, “BECAUSE THEY LOOK AT THE WORLD DIFFERENTLY!” Shoot. They’re painting clocks for goodness sakes: what horribly impractical crap.
But some of us are deeply moved by what these champions of expression do. I am (at least some of the time : p)
Not that i’ve really gotten to spend anywhere near enough time with so-called artists to say these things, but I like to think that they get something in their head that they need to express, and it comes from them in a dynamic and living way. It is their experience and perspective that they birth into the realm where everyone else gets to experience it. And I am grateful that they do it. While I do not appreciate all art ~ in whatever media it may come in ~ I appreciate and in fact CRAVE for people to express.
And what are some areas that we have seen people “Dream Big” and “Go for the Gold.” Oh look ~ the olympics. Again...
And child stars. Gosh I severely dislike child stars. Those America’s Got Talent and whos-its-whats-its that are non-stop on T.V.
A lot of people get confused and befuddled when I say i don’t like the olympics and child-stars. My dad for one. He loves that crap. I cant tell you how much time he spends watching children with full-blown operatic abilities or how giggly he’ll get when he sees these 17 year old olympian swimmers. “Imagine what it’d be like to be going back as a senior in highschool with a gold medal (guffaw guffaw guffaw).”
uh-huh... (sneer)
It just so happens that when I was in middle school, I had round glasses. And I looked exactly like the illustration of harry potter. I got myself a temporary nickname I did...
But you know the killer: when I watched the Harry Potter movies as they came out, I would enjoy them until the credits and then i’d get bitter. You wanna know the petty reason why? Cause I had this bitter envy of their adventures. They had adventures that made them grow. Danger that made their dreams lucid. But lets not dwell on how petty I can be ^_^
I would be mentally “off” for a week: distracted and irritable because I wanted to get swooped up and taken on adventures myself.
(Sigh)
But I guess I’ll just have to not live a story and instead create a crazy sort of a life.
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I was having a bit of what we in my family call “quiet time” and reading along in scripture and I with this whole inner dialogue about creativity that i’ve been having I came across these bits and read them in a different way than I ever have before.
Salt and Light Matt 5: ~
13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
What if this wasn’t the same thing i’ve been hearing my whole life? What if this wasn’t as much about being out-there evangelical Christians doing good works and converting the whole place so help me God?!!
Honestly im a lot more likely to believe that this is talking about being the people that we were made to be. This isn’t about religious fervor I don’t think ~ I think this has a lot more to do with giving what you have to give in life and contributing in the unique and glorious way that we were made to.
I was talking to a particularly wise friend of mine once and we talk about culture at large a lot. She commented partway through some conversation about how many people in culture aren’t interested in really supporting and cultivating people, but instead are a lot more interested in shaping other people to be more like them ~ to project their own ideas and attitudes and interests on other people.
Holy zombie apocalypse y’all.
Lets look at one more thing and then I can stop thumpin’ the book ~ don’t worry.
Matt 6:~
22 “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. 23 But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!
So we talked about creativity possibly being a way of looking at the world differently right? SO check out the above: The first verse talks about the eyes and its connection to light. Which sounds painfully obvious right? There were old-school philosophies (ancient greek, I forget who...) that subscribed to an idea that light came from within you and the rest of the world was dark, and whatever the light from your eyes shined on - was what you could see. For us its the other way around, but whatever.
The kicker for me though is where it talks about your eyes being healthy or unhealthy and your body being full of light or darkness. Then in the last sentence it says ~ if the LIGHT within you is DARKNESS then how great is that darkness!
Its a big deal to me and this was the thunderbolt to the dome for me because its a mixed metaphor. Two things that normally can’t co-exist. What if this is actually talking about the same thing I mentioned above ~ creativity just being a different way of looking at the world, and expressing yourself based on that perception.
If your eyes are healthy, and you embrace your light and cultivate it (put it on a stand) then your light has a chance to shine out and enrich the lives of those around you. Whereas when we cramp and hinder who we are, or could be, and become something other than what our inner self is (or could be) we kill that light. Our light actually becomes a darkness and we instead spread that nastiness around.
Some of the nastiest people i’ve ever met were the ones that either refused to acknowledge who they were, or wanted to cramp the spectrum of what other people could be.
“Just” a thought.
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So the productive area of all this is that I think I’ve just licensed myself with more freedoms.
No one is going to schedule my life for me. No one can dream my dreams for me, and I don’t want them to.
No - instead im much more inspired in continuing down the road that I was going in, but definitely in a different way.
I’ve loved languages and cultures for a very long time, and some of the key reasons that I do are because of how connected those things are to the way people perceive their experience and how they express their thoughts and feelings about their experiences. And I want more of that.
I was getting disheartened over the past... probably year, but as long as I pick my venues better, I am convinced that there is a lot left in this world for me to be a part of. And the more I experience ~ the more ill be able to contribute.
Why not?鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-5615898726546632662012-07-07T04:51:00.003-07:002012-07-07T04:51:33.904-07:00Standing-ByFlying Standby is one of the most unpleasant things I can think of. It is stress incarnate. Distilled stress. Stress in a bottle: and then that bottle is poured out over ones naked body as you wait exposed and uncomfortable hoping that it’ll pay off!
Standby, in case you dont know, is a way of flying, usually used by the families of airline employees. You can fly technically for free (though now its not free... just greatly reduced price) but you have to wait and see if there is room in order to get on.
Well... the flight im waiting to get on is overbooked (they sold more tickets than they technically have seats for in “coach” class). And there is only one per day. And there is no other option aside from a flight leaving at the same time but from Shanghai. So it would be pointless to consider.
If I miss this flight ~ i’ll have to wait 24 hours. If im very fortunate, i’ll be upgraded to business class or maybe even magical FIRST class :D and enjoy one of the best flights possible to mankind.
You’re really tossing the dice on this sort of thing.
I am anxious, but at the same time not. There is a sort of dull pressure and unpleasantness on my head and in my stomach that comes with this sort of thing. But at the same time ~ i’ve seen crazy things happen in traveling, and I’ve seen that at least MOST things happen for a reason. And I won’t know what that reason is until later. Maybe a lot later. Or maybe I won’t know at all.
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Lo and behold though~ regardless of how colossal and impossible it may have seemed (and there was part of me that just ‘-.- -. . .--’ i was boned) I managed to get on the flight. ANd I was one of the last two people on the plane.
And I got first class ~ on a 12 hour flight. ohhhhh the money shots. i’ll show you later via pictures and graphic description just how glorious it is. It makes sense now ~ why people pay so much for it. If you’re just traveling from origin to destination... no it doesn’t make sense. But if you want to feel like the world is your oyster and that you are like the supreme commander of the world!!! then international first class is something that is hard to replicate ~ even in a mountain top hotel (though Timberline definitely wins hands down)
Imagine this ~ do try:
An area usually taken up by 6 seats dedicated to your own lay-down district that my dad calls a ‘pod.’ (PS he has only recently started enjoying the wonders of international first class {the only reason he’s had to indulge was to come see me... and to go home after .. -./ ... - -.-- .-.. .})
You have 3 windows. A swiveling chair that could fit an obese kiwi like it was a throne. And complimentary access to unlimited wine, spirits, food, and the generally awesome conversation of my particular flights wonderful flight attendants. There are three that have been regularly attending my area. Ms. Linda has been fawning on my like the queen she is.
The first thing out of her mouth as she offers me a drink (champaign, orange juice, or... something thick that im not quite sure... some sort of smoothie maybe) is:
Would you like a drink for being the best dressed person on the flight? Its not very often that we see someone as well dressed as you on this flight (and she’s one of the queens of first class ~ WTF??! whats wrong with these people in first class?)
All I could do was smile wide and do my (ohhh you DO go on) laugh.
I should get into extortion. I’m not meant for the business world... so i’ll just have to make sure that I leverage the business people im involved with in the right way so that I can get this sort of lavish pampering more often. Let it flow like pearls before swine!!!!
Ms. Linda came back around another time (there are only 16 seats in 1st class) and offered me some sort of delicious pastry or other ~ and told me: How am I so blessed to have someone as well dressed as yourself on this flight? Look around ~ theres a girl over there in a sweatsuit that maybe fit 2 years ago, and then they go and put on those damn pajamas and take their underwear off! (first class has pajamas provided complimentary... along with slippers, an amenity kit, Bose headphones and a full set of bedclothes... sheets, mat topper, douvet etc. in addition to all the stuff i’ve already mentioned food and booze wise {God bless the booze}). SOOOOo I told myself... im not putting on the pajamas. I want to stay in this wonderful woman’s (these wonderful women’s) good graces.
And as of this moment ~ im going back and forth between my three beverages ~ all of which are endless: Coffee, Wine, Water. And then the lavatory....
I feel like royalty - even though the only bit of silk on me is my glorious and evidently eye-catching english schoolboy tie.
.-.-.-
I got a ticket! I was the 4th non-rev (a category of traveler that is on the standby list) and last... to get a ticket. And I was told to hurry up. Naturally I bolt as fast as I can manage in slippery couture boots. customs was hectic and there was a train... and crazy ass chinese people. And then a herd of Koreans that I recognized immediately because they were all ajossis and ajummas and they were all in their bubblegum colours of outdoor hiking type clothing, but with curled, dyed-black hair, and waaaaaaay too much fake whitening going on. And then there were the anger issues. there was like a 70 year old woman that just raged in the cage on an ajossi (older man) in their entourage. she gave him a vicious kick and punch all in the space of 0.5 seconds. And people wonder why i’ve become all racist. \
Ajumma’s are legitimately scarY!
and then the X-ray was taking FOREVER!!! and I was like... good LORD! I have a ticket for first class on a 12 hour flight. What kind of horrid nightmare would it be to miss the flight because of mitigating circumstances??!?? Pizdiets as my russian speaking friends would say.
But one of the gate agents came to the x-ray and asked us if we were on the American Airlines flight to Chicago ~ and two of us were... and she told us to hurry up b/c everyone was waiting for us. (Its not my fault dangit!!! PLEASE WAAAAAIIIIITTTT!!)
So finally we dash through the safety mark! DASH TO THE GATE!!!!
And the wonderful gate agent who gave me the ticket said, “Peter!!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!? HURRY UP!” No joking.
So they snatched up and tore my ticket stub all lickety quick and then shooed me onto the ramp. I dashed down the gang-plank and they said “TURN LEFT!”
And so I did ~ I got to ‘turn left,’
And I was (am) as royalty. .- -. -../ ../ -.. --- -. -/ -.. . ... . .-. ...- ./ .. - (which is morse code for ‘and I dont deserve it’ for those of you who are not Duri... or HAM radio operators...)
----------------
And I am reminded at this time of revelation and reveling... of one of the many lessons I’ve learned from my sister. Even though at the time we really really didn’t get along.
If you don’t try new ways of life, new tastes, new experiences of whichever sort ~ you don’t really know the scope of whats out there. And if we dont get a sample of what is out there ~ then how can we go about expanding that spectrum, and add to it in other ways?
Thats part of why its important to try new foods that you originally sneer at.
I tried lox on this flight already~ I didn’t even know what that was. And seeing as how I don’t have the internet, I decided to put it into my Chinese dictionary. WHY?! Because when things are translated into chinese they usually have a more literal translation that explains what they are. shoot ~ i didn’t even know what insulin was until I had to look it up in my chinese dictionary to explain it to some chinese friends. Evidently its a hormone or something secreted from the ‘isles’ of something in the pancreas. How about that? there are isles in the pancreas. Sounds like an adventure in science ~ someone get the Magic School bus on that please.
ANYHOW! Lox is translated as smoked something or other fish ( which as it ends up... lox is a brined salmon which is then somewhat smoked. Quite nice. Especially when its served with capers and diced red onions and a mini bagel with loads of cream cheese and a lemon wedge. Get OUT my way. It changed my mind on the potential that Airline food can achieve.) and then the champaign!
So anyway, im just really enjoying the basking in this...ness. And im going to continue doing so for the next like 8 hours XD
.-.-.-
I know it sounded like I was bitching and moaning in the above portion about waiting for standbye. Because I was...
Yes im enjoying myself immensely.
But also think of the nightmare that would have awaited if I hadn’t made the flight?
ALL Things considered~ the Beijing airport is a pretty good place to be trapped for 24+ hours. They have rooms that you can rent out to shower or sleep in. ~ not sure what the rates are... but when despair sets in... thers a lot of things that would just be “worth it.” Am I right?
I’d like to go to Morocco. Just sayin’
Oh but back to the point.
24 hours... on 2-3 hours of snatchy sleep (5-15 minutes snatches each while waking up to make sure your shit isn’t getting stolen.) Is a horrible thing.
The hunger. The feeling dirty from traveling. The knowledge that you still have another 12 hours of flight before you even get back to your country... where you’ll have to hope to get on yet ANOTHER flight... its all a bit much you know.
But there was a mixture of peace and anxiety within me because i’ve seen this before. Not just standbye ~ but the critical scanarios. The situations where it seems like your stranded on a desert island... or could be. And you may be ~
But who knows what the rum-runners left behind? Who knows what sort of sea-turtles you’ll meet?
And so with great apprehension I have flown standby. I suppose its a lifestyle really.
(though frankly i’d much rather to just have a blessed ticket and not worry about the whole goosy nonsense of losing a few months of my life and risking a stroke on account of some sodding travel. Seek out the rum-runners and turtles in your spare time dangit!)鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-31768723235714385532012-05-31T08:02:00.001-07:002012-05-31T08:02:28.517-07:00Crush....crush crush.Seems i’ve got a little bit of insomnia ~ and I havent written for a while so here goes.
~ ~
I’ve been riding this totally glorious wave of synergy and euphoria. I’ve got 2 weeks left. I’m not worrying about exams, though I’ll take most of them (not that it actually matters because I boycotted the midterms and its therefore impossible for me to pass~).
I’ve got a monster crush at the moment and i’m loving every minute of it. I haven’t actually told them yet ~ though I imagine its painfully obvious. I’m not even really sure what my “tells” are because until about last year... I didn’t really accept crushes as a reality and think I let them just float away on the river of my subconscious.
I was/ am / ?? ~ I wanted to stay away from the relationship thing b/c my goals and dreams were what I wanted to put first, and im not willing to ask someone to play second fiddle to my aspirations. Its not what im about. So I basically resolved to not be involved until I got to a point where I felt I could... well I dont think I ever actually had a line to cross where I would definitively feel ok with “being with” someone.
But a few instrumental things have happened. Lie ~ many things have happened from A to B. My goals and ideas of achieving something meaningful in life have been shaken for starters ~ and that has led to a developing acceptance of finding and spreading love and joy to as many as possible. So instead of having someone play second fiddle to my aspirations, maybe someone could come alongside and achieve the same ultimate goal. Its a pretty simple aspiration when it comes down to it. The trick is in the details : /
~
So i’ve not told this person b/c I havent made up my mind if thats juvenile or not and I wanted to express my thoughts to the worldwide web before doing anything else. Is this the modern age’s equivalent of proclaiming one’s obsessions from the rooftops.
I have a hard time getting to sleep sometimes (that wasn’t tonight though-) b/c I start thinking about what that life might be like and I feel like I might be glowing like Clair Danes in “Stardust.”
And the practical side of me says that its doomed from the start. Im leaving in about 2 weeks. They’ll go back to where they’re from and live a normal life with the normal monotony and out-of-left-field surprises that everyone can and cannot expect.
Oh indeed~ but anyway, on to more of the recent past and near future.
Blessed. Thats what i’d call the past two weeks (minus this heinous cold I caught). I’ve learned new card games and spent enormous amounts of time with incredible friends. Its not everyone that can spend like 4 days straight with other people and still have volumes to talk about and be completely content with doing little else but talking, eating and drinking with those people. And i’ve got like 4 of those at the moment. Thats biblical grade awesome right there I tell you.
And so im basically just interested in basking in that awesome. And maybe learning Russian and Cantonese...鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-3178654327545678202012-05-04T20:07:00.002-07:002012-05-04T20:07:38.346-07:00A Wave Blown by the WindOHHHHH I dunno man.
I’m so lazy these days. I dont wanna do something... and you know what: I don’t. So there.
I want an apple ~ imma get that apple... unless they don’t sell any apples... then i’ll just forget about it for a while.
BUT! when it comes to skipping class, I got some real constitution! Yessir and or madam. I can not go to class with the best of them these days.
Anyhow~
I’m bored with that line of thought so lets move on.
I dont like being lazy. I frankly think its a second rate existence, and i’d like to go after something worth having.
I’ve become obsessed with a chinese word recently (sometime within the past 24 hours): which literally means “eat.bitter” 吃苦 (chi1 ku3) ~ what it actually means is basically “suck it up” and deal with the shit life gives you. Particularly patient and tolerant folk are said to really be able to eat bitter...ness.
The question i’ve been asking for the past several months is “Why on earth would you want to do that?” with a little Xtra... “thats nonsense” thrown in after the rhetorical question.
The past few days especially its started to kick in that... the 苦 (bitterness) is always going to be there, so if you’re going to have it in your life... you might as well have a good reason to eat it.
---
Yesterday this idea of being a wave tossed by the sea popped back into my head. Its a reference from James (to be quoted below in just a hott second.) From my perspective, to always be running from the 苦(ku3) in life means that your being lead by your circumstances. When we do this ~ we’re letting our environment define us. Because if your not willing to 吃苦 to get through this pile of unpleasant to get to the other side ~ you never actually “get” that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (yes I know that metaphor is as tangled as christmas lights in the hands of a three year old...).
In that kind of life ~ your always running “from” something, never “to” something. Feel the mighty power of prepositions!
So here we go ~ James 1:2-8
Consider it pure Joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, (3) because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. (4) perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything (5) If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. (6) But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. (7) That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; (8)he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does.
and that I am ~
TOTALLY unstable. Funnily enough, as I was in the “falling out stage” with my previous boss ~ she told me I was completely unstable. Granted she said it in Chinese and was trying to use that as ammunition to get me to stay and be her evil little henchman... which im not so much about.
--
My limited experience has shown me that there are basically 3 reactions to the idea of perseverance stated above. I’ve said it before, but a lot of conservative ~ particularly Christian....~ people push the idea that if you just “suck it up... and tough it out” you’ll get what you want. But if you dont know what you want... how can you get it? Am I supposed to want what you want? where’s this conversation going?
Another is being convinced of your goal, and going through fire and water (or not) to get it.
And the third is to be of the opinion that nothing is worth having... so we should just forget it all anyway.
...
Theres a lot that isn’t worth having frankly. A lot of things that, from their own nature, aren’t worth going through fire and water to get to. Why burn yourself trying to get burn cream? Counter-productive much?
And as with most things i’ve found that anything worth having usually is at the core of the thing you see, and that core is what grows and motivates and builds what we see.
Like money... a lot of people see what money can provide them, and so they go after it. They know that the money is where the rest of the fun starts ~ so they go chasing after it. But when they get the money... do they have time and zeal left to enjoy what the money can do? (so I ask myself if its worth it...)
In my experience, people are worth investing in. Money is only worth anything if it enhances the lives of the people it comes in contact with.
--
So where I am at this point is: the kind of wisdom I need is <How can I best be put to use to imbue the lives of those i’m brought into contact with. Because i’m empty without my verb ~ a wave tossed by the wind>鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-35125454129418533912012-04-25T07:17:00.000-07:002012-04-25T07:17:01.921-07:00Spite, Language, PeopleI’ve had so many breaking points on this, now almost four month, adventure. It’ll get to five and a half months and then the beast may die.
I was asked the other day what my biggest regrets in life were, and I wasn’t really able to answer the question. I believe that we learn and grow from everything we do in some way or another, so, if given the chance, would I “give back” what i’ve learned since coming here? No. Its understanding that was given to me, and I shan’t be giving it back thanks very much.
I’ve learned many things.
I’ve tasted how stubborn I really am and how that clash really hampers my potential if not dealt with.
I’ve seen that relatively small obstacles (biting the bullet and getting over like 6 particles in the korean language... and painfully few tenses... though gazillions of “function” additives to verbs...) can become a huge problem for me when combined with that stubbornness.
Its unfortunate really. It could have been a good go, but the environment wasn’t really as ripe as I hoped it to be. And then I butted heads with too many of my teachers and the destructive/survival attitude of the culture here. So frankly im kind of burnt on the whole thing.
However, I’ve also learned some wonderful violence, and I get to look forward to another month and a half of that before I leave.
Its been reinforced just how important people are in my life, and how without the right people, most of what I do is doomed. I am very much so a man of my own decisions, but in many ways most of those decisions involve people. I am not controlled by people, but I am absolutely affected and influenced by them. And I love it. It also breed incredibly strong feelings of contempt when taken in “the wrong direction” however.
RE: some of my key teachers here...
SO do I regret coming? I dont know how I would have made a different choice under the circumstances, which is something that has been a cause for much struggle between myself and God. However, I will not deny that I have learned loads from this.
If you gave me the chance to get out of school, take my money and go somewhere else? would I take the opportunity? Hell yes.
If you gave me the same opportunity (bail now), but I had to go back in time and let go of my experiences here ~ would I do it? I dont know that I could say yes to that.
Its hurt to be here... A lot. But I’ve had to ask some excruciatingly difficult questions about myself, my goals, and how I fit into this bigger picture. And those are questions that needed to be asked. Will I thank Korea for these lessons? Hell no. I would/will thank the people at my Hapkido dojang for being a credit to their country and their art. But I cannot/will not thank the average person/ the society at large here.
---
I used to think that I could study any language just for the sake of studying the language, and that would be an interesting enough task in its own right. And there is/was some truth to that, but the bitter truth (but also an incredibly fulfilling truth in other instances) is how much language and the people who use it are tied together.
A new hypothesis is that if (at least for people-people like me) you are going to study a language without knowing the people well... its good to study the language without knowing the people at all... so that you can appreciate the cold dynamics of the machinery you’re surrounding yourself with.
A few too many bad eggs, and those quirky irregularities stop being “peculiar” and start becoming “shitty obstructions.”
To get back to it though ~ there are many linguistically great things about Korean.
Korean sounds cool (the whole freaking thing is a tongue twister ~ and makes for great rap). Its got a HUGE history of loan-words, which I think is interesting, and it has honorific layers of conversation. There are literally at least 3 ways to say every single thing based on the amount of respect you want to convey to the person your speaking to. Thats pretty cool. (or frustrating as the dickens and useless to boot if you dont care.)
But at least for me, I need to have some sort of pull to learn the language. I need to have someone to communicate with in order to do the “grinding” ~ that memorization of words and particles and other non-sense that isn’t perfectly intuitive in any language (and Korean has more than its fair share... WTF?! 2 number systems? and no real need for them aside from... b/c we cant let go?)
And then there is the full other side of the spectrum where the people actually grate against you. Im very reciprocal. Bite me I’ll bite back. Help me and I’ll help you. Snarl and shame me and I won’t even give you eye-contact... though my feet will be quick to rush into destruction if you give me too many of the right reasons.
So thats where I’m at with Korean language learning now (non-violent at this stage...).
I’ve been bothered into a lethargic attitude towards studying, and lethargy as turned to downright resistance ~ by degrees of course.
We have this week and then halfway through the next are our mid-term exams.
I will be skipping a large portion of this week, because I can’t tolerate my teacher any longer. In my opinion her attitude contributes to the shame of her country.
so no, I will not just be watching videos of 3 year olds do taekwondo and kittens...
I will be using this week to do a hard core review of the things we’ve learned so far and see what I can actually do to just look at Korean from a linguistic point of view.
After mid-terms we switch teachers, and i’m hoping against hope that my fortunes are better.
---
One of the brick walls i’ve hit recently is that part of me has decided that im done with Korean, and Korea. I’ll finish the end of my semester hopefully, but I don’t see myself studying it too much more after that. There is no tie for me here, and that synergy that can make me phenomenally capable is completely absent (actually reversed...).
So I will get what I can out of this experience. Continue to learn some fabulous violence, learn what I can about this language and people. And then... put it on the shelf to perhaps one day get dusted off if someone decides to pick up the torch.
--
There are many avenues I can take to fulfill my goals. I might just go after Cantonese for kicks and giggles. I already know I like Chinese people, and the Hong-Kong people i’ve met ~ in at least 3 very different contexts ~ have made for wonderful experiences.
Then theres the awesomeness of how many tones they’ve got, and traditional characters.... whats not to love?
and Russian.
I don’t know a linguist who doesn’t secretly have a thing for Russian (mostly because its the flag toting representative of Slavic languages.)
Mountains of literature, history, a huge array of cultures, and swathes of land where the language is understood.... not to mention I have some friends here who did a VERY good job of making me love them ^_^.
See what I mean? Im as changeable as the tides of a planet where the moon is a soccer ball for celestial beings. ~ get your head around that... and you just might have figured me out :D
Fair faring to you all.鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-60703944873600369922012-03-16T22:42:00.001-07:002012-03-16T22:42:46.680-07:00GOOOB!I've been chuckling to myself lately about becoming the bitter old washed-up villians in cartoons. You know... the ones that fester in their hate and malice to give themselves meaning until their hair falls out and their teeth go janky. You know... like mike yagoobian a.k.a. "Goob" in "Meet the Robinson's"
I could do that... all I need is a nice heavy cape and some minions ~ possibly even a secret lair.
My most recent targets on the list of things i'll crush beneath boot when I rule the world are:
Ajummas... its the same thing as A'yi(s) in China... (old women...)
and
Taxi drivers. I don't think i've ever gotten into a taxi here in my two months in korea where the bastards havent complained where I'm going. Short distances or further distances... there seems to be no where that they want to go. Seriously... why would I want to speak Korean if it creates nothing but difficulties for me with these forsaken infidels of mercenary transportation. They inspire me to play nasty tricks on them and give no quarter.
A week and a half a go or something "the other day" if you will... I and three other friends finally got into a taxi after far too many times being turned down by the snarky folk. I sat in front and totally hijacked this mans life with my good old friend: ignorance. I slathered on my nastiest midwest-city boy accent and nominally told the driver that we wanted to go on the five minute drive to Yonsei pyongwon a.k.a. Yonsei hospital (near where our homes were). He started griping up a little storm about the location... and that we had one too many people in the car... and I replied... yup... Yonsei pyongwon.
It worked! YAY! screw you santa-claus ~ Peace on Earth good-will towards man fails again. Huzzah, I think my blood just got a couple degrees colder too.
Ajummas then? Well the crotchety old livestock of gazillions of restaurants and otherwise run of the mill service sector jobs (restaurant proprietors, convenience store managers etc.) seem to have no pleasure in life but to tell you that you can't have something. For example... their restaurant has no small number of empty tables... but when sat down at two tables pushed together to accommodate our larger numbers, and they hear that we want to order quantities of food that they feel are not suited to how many people we have... they start bellering and snarling at us and pull away the second table. i could have spit in her face and kicked her into a gutter. At the very least, I would have been quite willing to introduce her to an iceberg fragment in Arctic conditions.
So if you see me and im cloaked and balding... dont leave your drinks or children unattended around me because treachery just might be afoot...鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-47047054936901129232012-03-02T19:12:00.002-08:002012-03-02T19:12:56.270-08:00Service Vs ProductionService vs. Production
I’ve been talking to people like usual, and one of the fruits of a recent conversation helped me realized that I really have no interest in production type jobs. I’m so service oriented its almost sickening.
So the conversation was with a friend whose mum evidently has factories in China (she’s US-Korean though). I asked him what her factories produced and he said... basically anything that girls are interested in buying at a given point in time.
That idea exhausts me. It sounds so dreadfully mountainous and soulsuckingly boring to me. I respect her for doing it because it is such a monolithic feat, but have zero interest in doing it myself ~ even if it is one of those things that can make you fabulously wealthy. Why would I want to spend the larger portion of my life toiling for something that I find dull? and I say nay.
The only way I could be involved in production is if it met at the cross section of a service. For example ~ tea, coffee, spice trade etc. The production or more realistically farming/distribution of those things could be ok to me because I am interested in what those things become and how they are used later down the line.
But lets go back to it.
I dont want to teach English forever. I could... but I’d be settling for much less than im worth. Teaching is still a business and even if I were a dyed in the wool career teacher (which im not), you always have to pander to the desires of whoever is running the school in order to preserve your position. That usually comes at the cost of how you teach (methods you’re allowed to use/ subjects you can talk about or subjects that are considered “a waste of time”). The definition of “quality education” gets twisted by whoever wants to throw the phrase around.
At least service is about pandering to peoples preferences. Its honest on at least one level ^_^.
I like service because its about understanding societies wants and/or needs. Theres something about that that I find seriously engaging. It leaves you open to learn more about people and to some extent possibly even understand their desires more than they themselves do. Like that one slutty lady on Moulin Rouge...
And then there is my obsession with consumption.
Theres a certain amount of abstract meaning in taste as far as I am concerned. While everyone has their own preferences and likes, and that is very important. Cooking, eating and drinking in a lot of ways are like a short term journeys to find something that is both objectively and subjectively good.
History, tradition, creation and discovery are all wrapped up in the same event. Its not everyone who is so fortunate to be a part of a constant paradox.
Naturally im emo enough to enjoy not being understood.... like paradoxes... :D鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-43931208282068947232012-03-01T03:16:00.002-08:002012-03-01T03:16:37.936-08:00Stream of ConciousnessThere have been a few times that i’ve heard of an exercise that... I think... is called “Stream of Consciousness” or at least its supposed to demonstrate your stream of consciousness.
The way it works to my knowledge is you take a piece of paper and writing implements (fresh blood and a raven quill.... J/K) and you put to paper whatever jumps into your mind AS it jumps into your mind. There is no controlling or focusing, you just put down what it is that you think as you think it. So yes, your thought could change mid-sentence and you would in fact write a different thought halfway through your sentence. It can be really hectic, but really exposing of what is going on “up there.” I’ve also heard it done with pictures I believe. Draw or doodle whatever comes to mind and morphe as the thought morphes.
Im terrible at doodling, so I just do my thing switching between Chinese and English and enjoy the heck out of it. My version was definitely more controlled than the experiment I just talked about, because I like to mostly finish my sentences. I was also choosing words that I felt encapsulated my moments. Very interesting results.
One thing I think that is just fabulous about the activity is that it shows how many unrelated thoughts we can have bouncing around in our domes. Its stuff like that that keeps me up at night. An inability to resolve ideas and an equally frustrating inability to let them go. Mostly.
Its enough to make one an alcoholic.
But more of lions and less of lambs, or perhaps more of lions and of lambs depending on your paradigm.
I was reading the third book (just started it... again) in the Chronicles of Narnia (The Horse and His Boy) and one of my sleep disturbing thoughts of the evening was the idea of belonging and blood. Its an old idea (like Dracula old), but many cultures share the idea of truth being in the blood. Anyhow, “the Boy” otherwise called Shasta finds out that he isnt actually the child of this mean old fisherman in the southern reaches of the continent and confesses to “The Horse” that he’s always had a yearning to know about the Northern reaches. The Horse (called Bree) tells him matter-of-factly, of course you do, its in your blood.
I think my blood is bitter. I know it tastes like copper and what not, but I’m at a juncture of life where I have a frighteningly dark view of the concept of belonging.
Its like I estrange myself to some degree from the groups that I can be a part of, the groups that I THINK I want to be a part of I can’t be a part of because you kind of have to be born into them (ethnicities/ social strata bla bla bla) and then there is the third kind where you have to be found, and im just too darn good at hiding.
Scary right?
Ever thought of a castle dungeon? Dark dank, smells like nasty men, mould and general funk.
I’ve always had this sympathetic fear for the person who is stuck there and then the castle is conquered by a different kingdom and everyone is let go, but he’s forgotten somehow, and then the castle collapses down on top of him once they leave.
How emo does that make me? maybe I should dye my hair.鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-83154237231342889802012-02-22T00:33:00.004-08:002012-02-22T00:33:45.053-08:00At One with the ConcreteI love distressed women.
I always have. But before you go placing me in the box with disturbed, disturbing disturbers of the peace... let me expound on that and say that my heart goes out to distressed women.
I like’m when they got that there fire in thur eyes ~ ok im not helping my case here but i’ll go on.
Women when they are legitimately pissed off or put out in some way shape or form have this awesome primordial fire that I think is just stupendous. I was on Youtube searching around “why should I learn Korean” to see what peoples crack-pot reasons would be.
I eventually found a video with a born Korean naturalized American girl going on this monster diatribe. She was kind of retarded I wont lie... and there is a lot of that in the world, but it was the heat coming off her words that impressed me more. I feel like Koreans always have this sort of snarl when they get angry. White women sneer... black women purse their lips so that they stick out an extra two inches and chinese women just don’t shut up so I can’t tell you what they’re faces look like when they’re angry.
The snarl really just grabs me right away ~ I smile every time I see it on a movie poster, on the side of the road or in a movie. Probably not helping the situation but I don’t care too much about that ~ smiles have a power of their own too.
So anyhow, I decided that im done being angry with Korea. Im ready to quit half-drowning and just sink.
Here I am ~ at a month and a half.
There was no honey-moon stage on this one for me... but oh well ~ everything in its way.
One of the steps I took as a physical representation of my acceptance of Korea in my life and as a part of my road to wherever the heck it is im going ~ I added the Korean flag patch to my messenger bag. It is now sitting right across from the Chinese flag on the opposite side ~ equally level.
Now... to get into that language of theirs. I can feel things starting to click now too though. Its funny to me that the words that stick most easily for me after nouns are “measure words.” They were such a pain to learn originally in Chinese, but now that i’ve got the general conceptual category in my head... its pretty great because I know how they’re supposed to fit ~ and that gives me some serious adhesive to make them suckers stick. What a joy indeed.
Verbs are still squirrely sons of ^*#$&’s but all things in good time. And on the road to making that happen, I get to concoct all sorts of wonderfully ridiculous associations for words.
For example: Soy sauce is “kan dzang.” “dzang” means ‘sauce’ in both languages and in chinese “kan” means look... So to me its lookin’ sauce... which is obsurd because its pitch black... and not really transparent until its spilled all over a glass table.... but whatever. I remember it.
Here I come!
Hey... if the mafia tries to drown you in concrete... become a Golem (mythological stone giant... not the murdering ring snatching creature in LoTR) and smash faces.鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-32823112521742000102012-02-22T00:33:00.001-08:002012-02-22T00:33:10.613-08:00Slam-Dunk is just too HighIm lost again. Its my perpetual state. I guess its probably more accurate that I feel like im walking around in the densest of fogs and the it only disperses every once in a while so that I can see out and know that theres something aside from the grey-white blur that my life is spent in.
I read through Ecclesiastes again of course I cant stop thinking about the idea of meaning and purpose. I’ve hit another fork in the road, and its a good and bad thing like everything else.
But this one is sucking the colour out of my world at the moment.
Heres an excerpt of an email I sent my sister:
My issue right now though is that my head has gotten wrapped around my sense of meaning and worth and im starting to wonder if that sense of meaning that i've been looking for in what a person can do (the fruit they can bear as it were) doesn't exist. Im worried that the answer to my question is going to be that our actions are more or less meaningless aside from the meaning that other people give it.
And I hate that thought. Hate it or not though, that doesn’t rule out any potential truth.
For so long i’ve pursued abstract fulfillment (doing something that has meaning by the doing of it, not by whether or not someone else gives it value). People dont have the capacity to appreciate everything, and a large portion of the population is either too stupid or hateful to appreciate it even if they could.
I love people, and I love the capacity to grow and become something more that people have. But you cant always help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. And what happens when you go a step further, and the people who are responsible for taking care of people don’t do their job? What happens when those in a position of influence and authority exchange their PURPOSE for whatever happens to make themselves feel good. And just one more step ~ when people start demanding that those who are supposed to seek their betterment (authorities etc.) tell them the lies that make them feel their world is “as it should be.”
It makes me want to withdraw from society and do nothing but cook and drink coffee till the end of my days.
“There is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they life. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil - this is the gift of God.”
But its like the toil isnt worth toiling after.
So if that is the case ~ then all that is left is to do something that one finds joy in. So why do we look down on the heroine addict?
What right would society have to snub the high schooler or the twenty something (or even the thirty something) that hasn’t found their niche?
---
I think the idea of “drive” and “purpose” in English is super combustive. So the following is how i’ve been thinking through this stage of my developmental process:
The life of every non-gas fire is the same. It starts of with the ignition that brings it into life, burns through the fuel available to it, and then matures into coals and then passes away into ash.
Now with coals, its fairly life or death. They burn towards the core of the fuel and then extinguish, or they become the ignition for more fuel. When the coals are in this stage, they are covered in ash and its hard to tell if they are revivable or not, and its only when you’re close to them that you can tell that the heat is still there. Much less obvious vitality than with flickering tongues of flame.
I think that people can be very much like this. There is so much potential life and movement, but when the environment around us becomes less hospitable and the reason that drives us (fuel) starts to run out, we shut down and put distance between ourselves and that environment to help survive a little longer.
And if fuel doesn’t come back to us ~ that part of us dies out.
---
“I have been to at least six asian countries and met many Americans. You are my first American friend.”
Words of a Mongolian man ~ collaborated with by a Russian man while at dinner.
Our country is not small, nor is it short of people, but the impression we leave doesn’t seem to match the gravity and depth of the foot-print we leave on the world when we tread on it. It is ours to tread: but what happens when moles tire of tunnels and decide that its the lions turn to dwell in the dirt?
I was called a citizen of the world today. I’m not an American evidently. My Chinese friends called me the International Emperor, which I frankly think is super cool, but citizen of the world has a certain inclusive quality that I really like.
But what am I trying to say?
My life is dedicated to the service of people. I want to understand and serve people. I want to give fully. It is worth it because I was given fully to, and that is something worth being a part of.
Being the biggest stick, crushing rock and bone to be at the top of the pile is meaningless to me. Being a part of the biggest pile however, now thats an aim.
Now metaphors aside ~ theres always going to be a scenario where something is better or stronger or blah blah blah, but I want to be a part of something bigger than myself. Its an American cliche to say such things, but frankly I see a lot of truth and real wealth in that.
That doesn’t go to mean a nerd skulking around with the school bully just because its something bigger than himself.
No ~ I think a better way to say it entirely would be: I want to be a part of something bigger than what I COULD be.
And why shouldn’t I be a citizen of the world. To understand as many people as I can, and live to serve as impact-fully as I can. That would be something.
I can be many things. Give me enough time and I could be come a doctor, ninja, or connoisseur of fine wines.
But what I really want to be a part of is something bigger than what I can become. I want to be a part of something that wants my betterment more for me than I could ever want for myself.
So maybe I’ll just go to culinary school and retire to vancouver and be the most ridiculous egg ever (white on the outside and yellow on the inside :D)鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-32713121973334253072012-01-30T01:09:00.000-08:002012-01-30T01:09:57.781-08:00Waiting for a Train that Just Don't ComeI’d like to start with a little story to try and explain where some of this started so you can possibly see how my wheels turn. Yes it will sound menopausal and all over the place, but bear with me as I “go there.”
그래서 ~ I went to go find this hapkido school on wednesday, which had a great website and instructors with great English at a very reasonable price :D :D :D!. It is kinda far away, an hour by bus or subway, but I couldn’t find any schools in or around my district and my thought process went like this as I was sitting on the bus waiting to get there.
If you want something bad enough, you may have to climb a few mountains to get to it. In some ways that makes it better because you were hard core enough to put up with those trials and tribulations. This could be like my ~ walking to school uphill both ways in the snow~ bragging rights.
Before I ever got on the bus I recalled my first experience of getting into Seoul and not knowing how to get to my hotel and lugging around my bags for two hours... no thank you... i’d prefer not to repeat that again. SO ~ a week before I emailed the people at the dojang (Korean word for “dojo” ~ a word many of you will be more familiar with) and asked for directions. They replied as follows:
Yes you can come to the gym on Wednesday.
Take bus 6714. This bus is directly to come our gym. (about 50minute)
Also you can take the subway from sin chon stn(line no.2) or take the bus 603, 602 near the sin chon stn.(about 45minute from sin chon stn)
The bus stop is sin wol underpass.
So I one upped that and checked it out on a google-map and wrote it down in my notebook etc. as I got myself ready to go. I had a cellphone which.. evidently had some issues with it and couldn’t make phone calls that day b/c the store registered it wrong (ㅠ..ㅠ) but thats a detail.
I rode my hour-long bus thinking these thoughts and got off at Sinwol underpass just like I was supposed to and then.... looked up the street (like the directions on the website said) and realized that there was know way to know which way was “up the street.” The website also said the gym would be right after the Korean barbeque restaurant.... This is Seoul might I add... the capitol of Korea... talking in general terms about barbecue restaurants....
so I walked “up” one side of the street... until it stopped having things on it and became a “danger zone” and then I walked “up” the street in the other direction. I tried to call the cellphone number and found that my phone was not legit at the moment and then had a crushing realization that I probably wasn’t going to find the gym that night. So I started walking back the way I came from and where I knew (vaguely/hopefully) id finally find the 지하철역 or subway station, inspecting the multitudes of sign-printed windows as I walked towards the terminal (what a morbid word).
Frustrated, but not destroyed b/c i’ve had much worse remember, I walked on. As I walked I began to think (dangerous) about how I would phrase the email to the dojang and ask for more sufficient directions.
And then the thought started to creep up on me ~ if they’re not willing to think through some of these contingencies (what does 300meters “up” the road on the right past the “korean barbeque restaurant” mean?), do I really want to go to their school? is it a sign for me? Horse patooty ~ I shoved that to the back of my mind and kept walking.
As I kept walking though ~ another thought crept in. Do I really need to walk up hill both ways in the snow to get to school or should I just scour the country side nearer me to try and find something? its a maybe....
And then the real Promethian eagle swooped out of nowhere to repeatedly tear out my liver for all of eternity (or at least that night and the next day and a half-ish).
Why the hell am I always looking for signs and trying to find “the thing” that is going to happen if you are just flexible and obedient enough to follow it?
And that is a bitter thought. A thought that I don’t have the capacity to push to the back of my head: because it deserves an answer - an answer that I don’t have (don’t/didn’t +/-).
It’s bitter because, as one who believes in God, and that God loves and directs us, I have to refine my idea of what being directed means.
Its bitter and creates bitterness because of how many times i’ve heard horse-shit Christians sitting in a sterile bubble say: God has a plan, you just need to be obedient.
Just... I hate the word just. I use it a lot, but I think its a “sort of :D” lesser of two evils type word. It limits. That is what it does. It is there to say that the meaning of what I am saying “cannot” cross this line that I want to establish (even if it actually does cross the line you’re pretending to reign it in behind).
Its not fair for me to take all of that context and marshall it as my army against God. I’m not Oprah. Once again, tears and anger are spilt out on account of Christian institution and culture though.
Ironic as it may be, I just finished reading Job, so far be it for me to say that God doesn’t care. However this feels like the beginning of an avalanche of sorts.
Why should I wade through rivers of my own blood to get to... to get to what?
Why should I not seek my own happiness? I see no reason to spill my blood unless it is in service of something better ~ and that truth must be apparent at a foundational level.
---
So my thoughts regarding school at the moment are as follows: If this program is not suited to my learning style (which it is not) and I need to spend monumental amounts of time out side of class restructuring my studying so that i am actually learning (which I do). Why am I paying so much? Why would I want to dig myself as big a hole as we are talking about when I can do essentially the same thing (or better) while teaching English and earning money somewhere else in Korea. From my six months (what i’ve paid in tuition so far) I will have established a fair foundation and will be able to grow with self-study from there.
Working will provide me with another variety of advantages over my current situation.
Access to real Korean people... right now all I have is international friends, and NO social circles that can connect me with the people of this country ~ not that I could speak with them if they dont speak one of my languages anyway... but its absolute murder to try and learn a target language if you have next to no stake in the lives of the people who speak it.
Monetary benefits are obvious output becomes input... not to mention my housing would be provided for me as a normal part of a teaching ESL in asia contract (a very significant expense).
A different, smaller city. Seoul is awesome in many ways, but I don’t get to access its heart because I don’t speak Korean. I’m not one of those international people that is content to feel like a big international important person just because I go romping around a city in a land far from my own. No. You only get those rights if you have a deeper understanding of what that place is, and can operate on ITS terms within its territories. I cannot claim to do that, and with the financial situation of a student, it would be unwise to.
Money for a student is only going out, not coming in, so it is in my best interest to limit how FAST it goes out... and that means restricting certain things, which is fine. However, it does mean that that cuts off how you can go about digging for what a city really is ~ because very few things are actually cheap (cost, not quality) in any major city.
So, you tell me ~ does it look like an optimistic prospect to stay where I am?
The biggest point in all of this is that ~ I am frustrated with the prospect of holding out further in the program because it seems to me that what i’d really be waiting for is some kind of big maybe.
The possibility of having some sort of job opportunity around that time is essentially slim to none ~ a level 4 vs a level 6 ~ regardless of Chinese and Spanish language skills... im not in any sort of social circles that would make my unique abilities and potential stand out.
Could it happen ~ of course. Anything can happen. Will it happen? Thats a shrunken malnourished maybe.
Once i’ve got some development and more money (CA$Hola) I could do the upper levels if I feel so inclined ~ but for now I think the cost to benefit ratio is just not satisfying enough.
Thoughts?鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-23994203727862729522012-01-19T01:28:00.001-08:002012-01-19T01:28:09.523-08:00Idiot SavantThe idiot savant, front and center
Why, oh why didn’t I learn Hangul (Korean alphabet) before I came to Korea!!!
I’m an idiot savant.
I like the term. Its respectful and degrading at the same time. Does that count as humility? Weird philosophical math I think. Pride + Humility = Moderation.
Anyhow, I’ll tell you the answer to the first and kinda rhetorical question.
I didn’t learn Hangul because I wanted to know what it was like to learn a language in an academic setting by starting from essentially scratch. I had a friend teach me some phrases and what not when I was in China, but that was nothing compared to what some of these other level ones have. My class is all essentially the same, but the other classes. Boy.... I tell you what. If my self esteem was wrapped up in how much Korean I could speak ~ i’d be the zit besotten hoodie-wearing teen-ager on the top-most bleachers forever! (awkwardly enough though, i’ve noticed a correlation between language capability in an immersion environment and self-esteem. Its a terrible feeling. I’d like to not do it again. Twice is enough.)
I wanted to know... not just that I could do it ~ but also what it felt like to do it under pressure. Total glutton for punishment it seems. But i’d have to say im getting my fill of it. I’m building callouses and that makes me feel old. I am getting desensitized to the interest of getting dirty and becoming increasingly interested in clam shelling and weathering the hail storm from the inside of a rustic cabin rather than shirtless in the field. It truly is a harsh way of life.
“I’m old Gandalf. I know i don’t look it, but I feel it in my heart. I feel stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.”
Im 23 and no one believes me.
Evidently thats 24 in Korean years.... weirdos (you’re born with 1 year... weirdos.... Gosh and I thought Asians were good at math.)
---
What I don’t understand is this.
I am homesick and feeling culture shock.
I am homesick for China, and feeling culture shock from a Chinese perspective (or at least a foreigner who invested part of their heart in China). I don’t much care about the American side. I love my people, but my people have far too many advocates so they’re not interesting :D
Why wasn’t I homesick when I went the first time? Why didn’t I feel so gangly and misplaced when I went there but I do here.
I think in many ways my awkwardness and instability has come from once again being uprooted, and not being blessed with roots here.
Its kind of funny ~ I got coffee today in the subway (weird I know... but it was actually a better coffee shop than the beautiful 5 floor ones on the city floor... and 1/3rd the price. How cool/ weird is that). But the thing that makes it funny is that I see the glimmer of hope for me bonding with this culture, but I have a few hills to go through in the mean time. Will my lungs hold out on this cross-country track? They’d better... or I might as well roll over and die now, because it’d be meaningless otherwise.
No. I am old.
There is magic (not just smog) in the air here, and I suspect, not just here. The thing that makes me old though is that I am recognizing it, and the bitterness of that truth is that I am increasingly polarized in the satisfaction I receive from my toil.
I’ve become super interested in studying. I’m super un-fulfilled by casual drinking with... new... people.
Whats the point in destroying tomorrow if today is meaningless. How disrespectful is that to the hope that might have come? How can you so casually toss away what might be on account of something that clearly isnt worth it NOW.
--
I’m like... becoming a monk. Compelled to pursue meaning at the expense of nearly everything. Oh my.
There’s some seriously fantastic monks though ~ Sir Francis Bacon for example (or is my history really horrendous? I don’t have google right now....) Inventor of gun-powder. That one guy who started “The Reformation”... you know... Martin Luther.
Obsession.
A wise man once said and, im sure Plato would agree with me, will continue to say as long as his words are in print....
“I know there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink and find satisfaction in all his toil - this is the gift of God. (Ecc. 12-13)
I’ve got the eating and drinking part ~ but once again... im haunted by a need for satisfaction in my toil. This is yet a gift that God has be-Job’d me. (^_^)
Eternity has been set in the heart of this man, and I mean to be a part of the field of conquest.
Until I learn what field that is, I’m just going to have to continue burnishing my blade now won’t I.
And no... that’s not a euphemism.
---
Why Idiot Savant?
I like the term because it shows an intuition for a field of conquest... but a lack of what other people would consider “common” sense.
I have a degree in applied linguistics that i’ve tried by fire and annealed with long hours in the proverbial dirt. Try me out ~ I’ve done some bid’ness.
But because of my experience (while it may not be as extensive as some), I have gained an interest in the how and why. Im not just interested in my car getting me from home to work in back, but I wanna know how it works, and have the intimate knowledge to be a part of making a better car, or at least making the car run as it should. (Motorist reference butchered on behalf of my brohakeem ~ the just “normal savant” of automotive technicians...)
I want to know how and why.
I epiphan’ied recently that I have a lingua-addiction because I felt cheated as an American raised in a monolingual society. I felt cheated because there was something else “good” out there that I was allegedly doomed to forever be unable to grasp... because EVERYBODY knows that after your like 4 and 1/2 years old you cant learn a language well.... but ALL those Europeans can speak like 5 languages. DUHHHH
I saw something “good,” and I saw that good as something that would unlock more good in the world: good that I would be a part of.
And why not?!
Excellent question. I don’t there there is a good answer though.鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-68078468005857826062012-01-16T00:52:00.000-08:002012-01-16T00:52:03.242-08:00The First Week ~ Into the FrayOK ~ Reporting in from the first week of class at Yonsei /tehakyo/ otherwise known as Yonsei University and what is now the tenth of my days being in Korea. There is not a flying rat’s chance in hell that in two weeks you could possibly grasp what goes on here. Me either. And that is a reassuring thing.
There are many more things that happen in this world that we don’t even realize or take the time to look at. Thats part of what I find so invigorating about living in a new place. Culture shock is your friend. You know what they say, a wound from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses.... is that evidence for biblical sadism? whatever.
But back to the point, because im SURE you’re all so very interested in what is going on in my oh-so-exciting life. :D (I imagine that you can only mask arrogance as “charm” for so long.)
---
Orientation on the first friday here was... interesting. There was a little bit of a chat about what the school was and then... you can go buy your books now. Not what i’d call the most essential of affairs. Whatever, i’ll attend anything if its part of my program.
I was also pretty interested in finding a place to stay.... which to be fair, I did have some phone numbers to call from the research I had done prior to coming. However, not speaking Korean really made that a taxing affair. So what did I do? Found someone who could speak english and Korean to help me ask if there was still room at the places... hahaha... oh sadly insufficient in some ways. Eventually though (two phone numbers later and like five minutes of evidently not talking about all that much...), the English speaking attendant in the office placed a call and within 30 seconds, I get a response to the affect of, “wait five minutes, she’s gonna come her.” I was a little dumbfounded, but more than willing to go on this ride.
Well... it must have been a latino five minutes because it was like 15-20 by the time she got there, and tooooootally worth it. She walks into the room and im pretty sure I saw bubbles floating in after her. By she, I mean this like 70 year old ajumma (aunti... the generic term for an older woman.) Trundles into the room all smiles and wrinkles in a fur coat that made her look three feet wide. She looks around the room and then looks at me and goes, “Miguk a%*@#^Djhese23?” all I got out of that was (miguk- american)? I spoke... no korean aside from the... “I dont speak korean”, “American”, 1-10 in both of the korean number systems.... oh! and where is the bathroom.
She thought it was funny ~ but not in a derisive way. I knew as soon as I saw her that I was going to live in the right hasook-jib.
Oh, and a word on that. A Hasook-jib is sort of like an apartment, but its a little bit more like a dorm than a traditional apartment. Separate room, shared bathroom and these sort of... shower room... things. Nice thing is! breakfast and dinner are included in the rent, and so I get to try homestyle korean food ~ which is an experience in itself. Im not gonna pretend that its the best food ever. Its not. Its simple ~ though it is also pretty good. Honestly though... It gets realllly really repetitive. The soups keep me sane though. The variety in these soups changes so that has been keeping me stable and brightening my interest in soups... they don’t NEED to be complicated evidently. Im lovin’ it.
I’ve started to go through a simplification revolution in my cooking over the past few years. When I was cooking before, in university and what not, I would always dash dash sprinkle sprinkle.... pour pour pour. More flavours just ends up making your food all taste... the same. SO! simple is good.
But back to the hasook-jib. Honestly it feels a bit like a hostel...but without the shared rooms. There are a lot of people around ~ I think about 30 people over 3 floors... something like that ~ and they’re from all over the place. Seriously... its Ajumma’s favourite conversation (monologue).
“We’ve got people from America, Russia, China, Japan....uh... which others? oh yah BRAZIL, France, Malaysia, Canada.... ” It goes on like that for a while and then starts to sound like a broken record or the deja vu moment in the matrix.
She’s simple... but really kind. And that makes up for a lot with me in this place. (so long as I don’t have to spend tons of time in the exact same area with her.)
The bathrooms though... Clean yes ~ when freshly cleaned by the ajumma’s (there’s two). However, I live on a floor with all girls.... which is awkward for me and has made strategic bathroom trips a new angle on my life. It has also led to additional collateral education about female hygiene or lack there of. By the way girls... you’re not all as clean as you may think you are. Foul.
I’ll with hold some of the more grisly details until some night when we’re all exchanging stories and I need my ace in the hole.
Last tidbit ~ the stalls are really... economical (too short length wise... so not narrow or (not ?) not tall enough.. but when you enter the stall and the door closes... it becomes a serious task to get your pants down and then sit back down. Oh my goodness. It makes going to school to the huge like japanese hotel-sized toilet stalls (and my goodness are they impeccably clean.)
Chinese has really come in handy for me! wow, I’ve met ooooooodles of people that I wouldn’t have been able to communicate with otherwise. Its also a great go-to when I need help figuring things out like... the washing machine, which is all in Korean. Dinner conversation~ another plus. Casting people like Ajumma into complete awe that I can speak Chinese (im on another plane to her now). Sneaking up on people in Coffee shops ^_^.
It is good.
(aside from the bathrooms)
---
Monday was a jolt. Linguistics major on the fourth language... and im beginning to think that one will never get to the point where they can just “easily” learn a language. The idea is hokum.
The first three days we essentially covered the entire korean alphabet ~ which was very sensibly designed, though I pity any poor dyslexic bastards out there that are interested in learning korean. The difference between “ah” and “aw” is a vertical mirror (flip the character from left to right).... “oh” and “oo” a horizontal mirror (flip it from up to down). “n” and “k” is a diagonal mirror... yeah... its a chore and no mistake... but once you get it, its really neat. Everything is organized in syllables... at least theoretically.
Korean and Japanese evidently share very similar grammar, and I KNOW theres tons of loan word from Chinese, because i’ve seen them just this week in the vocabulary we’re getting. Its a blessing in a curse, because things are easier to remember in some ways, but also easier to screw up by saying the word as I learned it in Chinese. Oh well... take it in stride ^_^.
Korean is definitely a significantly more difficult language to pronounce than either Japanese or Mandarin (not counting tones...), but that also makes it really cool when you CAN pronounce it, because you had to work so hard to get there in the first place.
Every time im in class, I think of the way that Leelu in “The Fifth Element” spoke English. I think its the vowels mostly which are typically more extreme than English vowels. They’re /o/, /u/ and /aw/ are all pronounced like they’re mouth is a tunnel: you kind of have to push out your lips more to say them “right.”
Gosh its just adorable to listen to once you deal with the intonation issues that make Koreans (particularly girls) sound like they’re always complaining.
So rather than teach you all the little bits of Korean that I know, which im sure would be just riveting, im gonna tell you about my class itself.
Each class at the KLI (Korean Language Institute) at Yonsei tehakyo doesnt go above, i think 15 people, and most are 13 or less. So ~ nice small class sizes.
My particular class has 2 Russians (1 with Korean parentage), 1 Mongolian who speaks Russian, 2 Chinese people, A German guy of Korean parentage, a Swiss girl, three Japanese girls, myself, and then a particularly unpleasant girl from Iran.
---
Its REALLLY interesting to be in such a mix of different people again. There are people at my school from all over the place. Different faces, different races, different languages and a whole bunch of polyglots (multiple language speakers). And while frustrating, its also really nice to be getting back into the dirty of learning a language. No one in my class seems to think its easy, which is nice. Other classes even at the same technical level as us seem to think parts of it are easy... but those savages had evidently already studied the alphabet on their own and new a few things before coming and/or had korean parents and know a decent amount of Korean from their rearing, but not in a thorough enough way to make it to level 2 (particularly regarding how to write Korean).
I may be “beneath” them now... but im not worried ~ hard work and effective studying practices win out over such things in the long run, and there are few things I can think of that are such a long run as language learning. There is always a tomorrow, and as long as you have done your best with today, tomorrow will be better ~ even if it doesn’t always feel like it.
Its funny to me to look at my class and my school and look at how many languages are spoken ~ often times people already speak 2-3 languages with some degree of proficiency. Who else would be crazy enough to spend as much money as we do to pack up and go to Korea to study language without much more of an end goal than “I wanna.” Many of the people here will only be here for a semester or two, so I expect level 3 to be significantly thinner than the first two levels.
Learning styles are also interesting, because people like myself don’t always completely groove with the repetition that is used for the initial teaching in class. You can hit me in the face with a dictionary a thousand times, and I may learn your words, but it doesnt mean i’ll be able to use those words, remember them for very long, and it will probably take the thousand times for it to stick period (and i’d really prefer to not be black and blue for such reasons.) My rote memory isn’t that great... in fact its kind of terrible. Thats part of why I don’t remember names very well, but i’ll remember extensive details about people after just a few moments talking with them.
However, if I can find a way to grasp the meaning of a word and how it would be used in a context that relates to my sphere of influence! I might remember it after hearing it three times. Strange - but cool. much better than getting beaten black and blue with a dictionary.
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And we capped it all off by “going out” last night, which was a singularly difficult task to accomplish because we had about 23 people. Try to fit that in to any one given bar club or restaurant on the spur of a moment. It doesn’t work so well...
Anyhow, I decided rather fully that there is no allure to clubs and bars for me. I would much rather consume alcohol in a home or at a park. It is far more agreeable and cost effective. The only reason I can see for myself to go to a bar at this point is if they are particularly good at mixing drinks. Otherwise... if your just looking to “get the job done” with a few good friends... institutions are more trouble than they’re worth. With the possible exception of karaoke places in China... but thats a different world entirely.
Met some very interesting people... and realized that some other people were... not... that interesting, and further grew to love this herd of Brazilian Koreans that I have been spending time with. They’re even reversing my previous bias against the portuguese language. How bout that?
Most interesting people of the night:
A trio of Swedish girls... one with Chilean parents, another with Macedonian parents, and the other with startlingly blond hair and swedish parents (I believe...). Having only been in Korea for around two weeks, their thorough knowledge of K-pop (korean pop) songs was truly, in its purist form, amazing. They evidently listened to a lot of K-pop back home in Sweden on account of there being nothing to do there.... except probably knit fantastic sweaters and mittens I’m sure.
A four foot nothin’ 18 year old japanese girl who evidently has the drinking capacity of three viking men and a passion for speaking korean and.... the ubiquitous K-pop. Could she scream it out... oh my.
Otherwise, honestly, we spent a large part of that evening walking around in the frigid air trying to find either a restaurant or place to drink...or waiting for people to show up. The logistics for that size of group really are a nightmare.
Also... that size of group usually has to splinter into factions just for the sake of having a decent conversation. Its not worth it. If you’re just going to do it to meet new people... i’d say house party would have to be the way to go ~ and who wants to offer up their dwelling to that kind of abuse? an excellent question indeed.
Most interesting people of the week ~ the herd of Brazil born Koreans.
What... and odd... mix. These super friendly folk, who didn’t really intentionally come together, but happened to come at the same time, are an absolute trip. They told me that Brazilian people anywhere in the world will most likely find each other in a random place and go party together. Its just what they do.
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It is good, and it is as simple as that.鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-27473705776516903252012-01-12T01:07:00.000-08:002012-01-12T01:07:21.501-08:00Seoul... and oddly enough my thoughts on suffering. BUT DONT WORRY :D im having a great time.I am just a glutton for punishment arent I?
Wow ~
Though there are some methods to my madness, and increasingly so (probably both regarding the methods and the madness(es) {I think madness is a count and a mass noun})
For example, I am getting better at packing for international moving of ones life.
I have developed a three step program.
Step one ~ the preliminary pack where you decide what all you really need and then what things are the excessories. This step should technically be done as quickly as possible because your fear of leaving something behind is what will really slow you down. The point of the stage is to lay bare the things that you actually need.
Stage two is the real pack, where you essentially play tetris with your needs and then perform a delicate operation called shuffle shuffle stuff stuff with all the rest of the excessories you decided would come along with you. How wonderful
So I did pretty well with relatively limited stress this morning. although.. I did forget to eat, which is not advisable on such a long trip.
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My dad took me to the airport this morning and we were mostly on time and as I was getting checked in I found that one of my bags was 3-4lbs over the weight limit... and the other was 10lbs...under ^_^ Yay im getting better at this. so shuffle shuffle stuff stuff ~ and in the melee however I managed to give myself a monster papercut under the nail of my left middle finger on one of the velcro adjustable dividers inside my bag. Wow was that unpleasant and somewhat bloody. This was after I got in the car to go to the airport and found out that I was bleeding from some orifice (I...after a moment of spazzing... realized that it was the cuticle of my right middle finger). I realized this because I noticed little paint mist sized dots of blood on my khaki pants. Yay....
But all that considered ~ not too bad, but definitely inconvenient.
Bags all equalized out fair and square, the gate agent has the gaul to point out a potential issue with my korean visa (not to worry REALLY because Americans can be in Korea for 90 days with out so much as a how do you do). What a savage eh? ^_^
Said good-bye to my dad at that point, and made a note to myself of how much easier it was to leave this time (for probably all parties included in the good-bying aside from maybe the Vancouverites and my sister ~ in some capacities it never gets easier)
Security was a beastly long line, but got through it and to the gate with just enough time to hand the agent my ticket and stroll to the waay back lastmost seat of the plane to Chicago. Maybe I should have opted for the legroom upgrade waaaaahahaha!
Towards the end of the flight I asked the flight attendant for connecting gate information and if she had the time. To my immense joy, she turned towards the rear of the aircraft (remember im in the last seat) and shuffled in her pockets for her cellphone and turned it on to check the time for me. I have heard from a little bird (my father the pilot), that the “no wireless devices esp. during take off and landing” rule is essentially an old wives tale and that it is adhered to basically for the “just in case” contingency. Oh mirth.
Well after a necessary stop off at starbucks on the way to my connecting gate to get a sammich and a cup of coffee ~ I was told that my debit card was declined. How incredibly unpleasant and disconcerting. Oh well, I have a stack on my person, so just breath. uhhhhh wheewwwwwwwww uhhhhhhhh wheeeeeeeew.
I make it to the gate, once again, to just get on by the skin of my teeth.
And what joy ~ I get seated next to a roughly 50yr-old couple of asians that imma go ahead and assume speaks mandarin because I wanna. Fortunately for my pride and convenience... they do ^_^ SO I got to spend the first few hours of the flight just chatting it up in Mandarin with a lovely couple who just happen to slather me with linguistic compliments. But enough of that, because this is a song that i’ve sung a thousand times.
That flight was som’n else. The flight attendants for united were most definitely better than the ones on American airlines for the same route. More polite, younger and they had at least one to my knowledge that could speak Mandarin in the coach class. Food was kind of wretched, but what do you expect from a non-asian airline...
Anyhow, we get settled into about 4 or so hours and on the route from Chicago to Beijing you fly almost directly north through Canada into Nunavut (the “newly” formed first nations territory of Canada) and a huge body of water (ice) that I believe is called Baffin Bay(?), Anyhow. Theres nothing there but ice and desolation and once in a very long while you might see a long cluster of lights... which I myself cant really explain aside from polar expeditions. In talking to my neighbors I think we established our guesses as ~ ships, because they were so long and separated by a reasonable space, and then there was a completely separated one WAAAAAY the bump over that way that i’ll assume had issues following, or was just being obstinate. Anyhow. A few hours later and then you truly do leave the cluster of ice-lands of northern Canada and are suspended over the north pole. The interesting thing is that as you hang over the northern edge of the world and start to go over the other side, the sun starts to fade out and your plane is there in a realm of half light and half dark. When you look down and the clouds actually part, you can see through to the enormous sheets of ice down below. If you’ve ever wondered how techtonic plates work, I think those glacial waters would give you a pretty good clue. Every so often, you can see where the sheets have shorn, leaving a huge fissure where the desolate freezing waters of that part of the world can be seen. I don’t know if i’ve personally ever seen anything that has ever looked as unforgiving. Its one of those scarily beautiful sorts of places. Northern Siberia is just about the same as the rest of the arctic region, and the word that comes to mind for me is....
Desolate.
I think its terribly fascinating to see that sort of place, because it makes me wonder why God would create it. I like to think that it was just because ^_^.
A great many people say that our entire existence was just because the environment was right AND SO! we sprang to life.
I frankly think that is kind of lazy thinking, but I am not a scientist to argue the point.
But I am a people person, and one thing I know about people is that people all have their own way. People have things that they do, just because it pleases them. It may seem arbitrary to everybody else, but whatever the action is, it seems to bring the doer some measure of pleasure or satisfaction. And I think those desolate places are in some way the same thing. He created them just because it pleases him. God does not need to cater everything to us. In that way, look at how much life NASA has been able to find so far in the bit of Universe they’ve been able to cover so far. Wait... none?
Our Universe is so massive, but we’re the only rock that not only can, but does sustain life. So why the rest of it? Just because. It guess its like cosmic poetry. Some of my favourite pictures are of Nebula(eaeaiiiiauuuhhhhs?), but they are just as meaningless as a few gasses and other elements that happened to assemble in an aesthetically pleasing way.
Rat patootie. If it is beautiful, it should be recognized for its beauty, and that goes for everything, even down to the tragedies of life. Frik, we read Romeo and Juliette don’t we? Who should say that we don’t admire the desolate reaches? They don’t even count as hinterlands they’re so far away... but anyhow. Im starting to sound as tangential and repetitive as that forsaken “Catcher in the Rye”... I really am.
Oh! right, beauty in tragedy. So my minor issues so far have been... slightly over weight bags, not a problem, slicing two of my fingers somehow, not a big issue aside from the bits of blood on my pants that only I notice, but make me feel disheveled and not “on the ball.” Well then there is this other thing that starts to worry me.
So in my left earlobe for the past few months theres been this thing... that im not sure what it is. When I was in China, it kind of sprang into existence, which I thought was weird and unpleasant, but after a relatively short time it stopped being sensitive or even noticeable in any capacity so I just left it alone. I asked for some advice on the issue, and I was basically told... if it doesn’t hurt then don’t worry about it. Ok I still didn’t like the idea of there being some sort of mystery thing in my earlobe. What if I wanna get it pierced!?!!!?! hahahaha
No seriously. (on the not wanting it there thing). So here I am on the plane... over the north pole, months after I stopped caring about it.... and my left earlobe decides to get hot and sensitive, so I feel it and realize that my earlobe is larger than it used to be.... hmmm. As the flight continues, it essentially doubles in size from what it was and stays sensitive... hmmmmmmmmm.
I had a conversation with an australian friend a while back, who despite how many LONG flights he’s been on to and from China and Australia and the US, he went through a period of being afraid of flying. Not to the point where he wouldn’t fly, but just so that it made it uncomfortable. We talked about the idea of feeling stranded at the North pole, and essentially being beyond the reach of any kind of help for the next 7-8 hours even if you were on the verge of death. Theres literally nothing that anyone can do to help you in the event of an obscure emergency.
So fancy that, Im hung over the north pole and my left ear decides to become a TICKING TIME BOMB! what do I do? the only reasonable thing to do... spazz out a little on the inside.
OH WOE IS ME! i says to myself, I don’t speak korean and I need to worry about finding medical treatment like the first day getting there. WHAT the heck??
So I calmed myself down by going back to what I call my “kingpin” ~ the thing that everything else rests on.
I can do anything as long as I have the love of my God.
I understand there are probably HUNDREDS of you (yes I definitely have that many blog followers... definitely...) who think that is at least a little bit cheezy, and I probably would have too aside from the roads i’ve gone down particularly the past few months. But you can read about that in a previous blog (Re: Hate).
But there is the start of another sort of beautiful tragedy. Now that Im writing this a few days later, I felt a need to look back at the story of Job because I might have something I could learn from his suffering.
Now I by no means am as misfortunate as Job. He had all ten of his children die at the same time, his wealth disappear and his body completely covered in truly uncomfortable miscellany. I just have one ^_^.
So im reading along and reading along and though i’ve read it before, there are a few things that hit me harder and deeper since I read it last. Thats one of the things I like about the bible, the more you live and the more you read it, the more it seems to make sense. It hardly made any sense as a child, but now that i’ve got some more life under my belt, I can associate with certain things like hate, and suffering in a substantial way.
Back to the point though. For those of you who haven’t read it in a while, or haven’t read it at all ~ The story of Job goes something like this:
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There once was a super-rich super blessed guy named Job (pronounced: jobe...) He had 7 sons (oh wow, how fortunate in a patriarchal society) and 3 daughters (gets the job done) and obscene wealth in the form of... livestock (surprised?). He was considered righteous because of the way he lived, and he gave sacrifices to atone for any other imperfections, both for himself, and for his party-lovin’ children.
Well one day the Angels assemble before God in Heaven and Satan decides to come along too. (For those of you who don’t know... Satan was originally like chief angel before he got booted out of heaven for being a cosmic ass).
God sees him and asks what he’s been up to ~ no doubt disturbing the proverbial shit. And what do you know, The Accuser (what “satan” means) responds that he’s essentially been globe trotting checking things out.
God asks if he has seen or considered his servant Job (the super blessed one). Evidently God is pretty pleased with his righteousness and loyalty and says that there is no one else in the world like him.
Well The Accuser is always pretty pessimistic about these things and says, “OH YAH?! but you’ve blessed his pants off and back on again, so why shouldn’t he be. If you take all that away, I bet he’ll curse you to your face... so there.”
And God says..... OK. Give it a try, but you cant touch Job himself.
So Satan goes in and smokes his kids, inspires some raiders in the area to go snatch up his goats and camels etc. and kill all his servants, pretty much at the same time. Oh yay.
Job mourns the loss of his children and his wealth, but still holds on to his faith that God inherently is good. He says, naked i came into this world and naked must I leave it. He mourns the loss, but doesn’t pretend that it is his place to say that he deserved any of those things. He worked for them yes, but at the end of life.... you cannot deserve something so much as to be able to take it with you.
Well... God and his Angels reassemble at a later date and Satan comes along too and God asks for a progress report and decides to rub a little salt in the Accuser’s wound to the pride. Hey... bye the way ~ my servant Job has not degraded his integrity and faith in my in the face of misfortune. So even though he lost the bet, Satan pipes up and says ~ “Yah ok maybe, but a man will do anything to save his own life.”
And God says... have your way with him, but you have to spare his life.
So Satan goes and covers Job’s body with super-herpes and other incredibly ugly and painful things. It says that these sores and whatnot went all the way from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
I don’t think there are too many things quite as frightening as things going wrong with your body that you don’t understand. I cant even begin to get inside that man’s head to experience what he experienced.
His wife told him that he was ridiculous to still hold on to the belief that God is good... He should just curse God and die. Im sure Oprah would have said the same thing.
His friends heard about all his kids dying and his wealth being destroyed/snatched up so they decided to pay a visit to him and console him. They didn’t even recognize him at first because he looked so mangled.
For seven days they sat with him and couldn’t even say anything because everyone felt so awkward.
Then... to kind of round things out here, his friends essentially tell him that he has probably done something wrong, and God is probably doing this to punish him so he should apologize to God and get on with it. (At that time, the Jewish people believed that bad things happened because either you or your parents sinned. Good things happened because of God blessing your righteousness.)
But Job is offended that they would suggest this because he has done everything that a man can do to serve God, and offered sacrifices to atone for everything else. In his heart he KNOWS that this isn’t because of something he did wrong. That doesn’t give him much reason for why it IS happening, but not knowing why is not enough of a reason for Job to abandon his hope in God’s goodness.
Eventually after a lot of talking, the friends go away and God talks to Job. After that, God heals Job and he becomes even more rich than he was in the first place.
What a happy Jewish ending.
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But the point of me writing that (albeit abridged... though i’m sure it seemed long) down was because Job made a statement that really cut me to the quick and has become another sort of stabilizing phrase for me and there is no way you could possibly grasp it without having some idea of what the speaker of it was going through.
(Job 13:15-16)
“15 Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him...”
The only way that I will be able to survive my own adventures is to trust that God is good and that regardless of how many mountains I need to cross, oceans to swim, friends to find and lose, it is at its deepest core because of the Love of my God. Nothing is more sustaining.
It is said that perfect love drives out fear, because fear is connected to punishment or repercussions. But to the point that the worst possible repercussion and horror could be going without that love, even death and pain takes the back seat.
So long diatribe over. If you survived it, you will have come a long way in understanding something very important to me.
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After Siberia comes Mongolia, and then Inner Mongolia (China) and finally the surrounding area near Beijing at the hinterlands of the middle kingdom (literal translation of China “zhong guo”). I don’t have much of a science background, but I think its just the bee’s knees to see how the earth changes from place to place. I’d love to see Siberia and Mongolia when its not... you know... “kill you cold”. If you want to see what I mean, I suggest watching “Mongol” ~ a movie about the childhood and rise of Ghengis Khan... the great khan (otherwise known as Temudgin). Beautiful place, haunting music, fearsome people.
Naturally I loved it.
But its cool to see how quickly the earth through these areas change. Once you get to Mongolia, and more so inner mongolia you start to see less snow and more earth and can see the different colours of soil that change every few miles.
Gosh what a pleasure it is to speak Chinese. It really is (friggin Catcher in the Rye!!!). Landing in Beijing and being able to function smoothly was such a pleasant experience. I got coffee, I exchanged money, I got through security with 0 hitches etc. A pleasure. No trip wires or stumbling blocks. A stark contrast to what I would certainly be experiencing in just a few hours when I land in Korea.
Waited at my gate for a little while, started this blog and tried to get my mind ready for the things I would need to do in just a short while.
It was interesting hearing so many people speaking Korean on the phone at the gate, and that got me all jazzed to go study. One of the gate agents came over and gave me a new boarding pass... which i guess she figured out because I was like the only white dude in the area... I didn’t notice ^_^ I don’t pay attention to how I am different because I just expect that I am.
For example In the last two years of Spanish class in university, I was the only male in a class of about 15. I didn’t notice until someone pointed it out. Gender difference is not a detail that is important to me. Unless we start talking about sharing public bathroom space...
She asked for my passport and old boarding pass and while I fished out my wallet I asked her to wait a moment in Chinese. She lit up a little bit. She continued the process in Chinese and so did I. She then gave me my boarding pass and headed back to the counter.
When boarding started and I gave her my ticket she went from business face to bright full face smile. That made me happy in turn :D
I went down the jet-bridge and one of Asiana Air’s workers was there greeting people, “ Anyong-haseiyo (bow), Anyong-haseiyo (bow), Good afternoon sir, (bow). hahaha That was precious to me. I love sudden contrast. It amuses me to no end.
On the 2 hour flight, which on a western airline will get you... a surly old lady and a can of coke if your lucky these days, Asiana Airlines had wonderful pleasant young and beautiful flight attendants and a “first class” meal with cute red and white dishes ^_^. I think the part I enjoyed most was probably my korean hot pepper paste in a travel sized toothpaste tube. Delicious though it was, I couldn’t finish the beef and rice thingamagum because I was feeling nauseous from United Air’s weird noodles at the end of my previous flight. Tragic shame that.
We get close to landing in Incheon (one of the two airports in Seoul) and I have to say that the coastal area of Seoul looks pretty bangin’. There is this sort of organic maze of trails or roads or something that are all lit up at night. It wanders all over the place and looks like a phenominal place to clear your head on a cool night.
Unfortunatley for me, this night wasnt cool... it was downright cold. -9*C in Seoul when we get there.. I said brrrrrr. its cold in here.. there must be some... well anyway
I figure out which bus I need to take to get to Sinchon district, buy my ticket and get on. Im still feelin queasy so I let myself fall asleep on the bus rationalising that stops on busses from the airports are always really loudly broadcasted... and they were so no worries about sleeping through it. we get to my stop... and I pressed the button. He sort of slowed down near the stop, but didnt really stop stop... said some things in korean and we had a few awkward moments of me wondering if he was gonna stop or not and then he just kept going... so the next stop (not really that far) I pressed the button and got my butt out of the chair and into the isle to be a bit more assertive. This time it worked.
I got off the bus and the driver helped me get my bags out.
And WHAM! the cold and strangeness of a new city hit me like THAT.
We were on a median bus stop between two lands of traffic on each side. Its dark, and about as heavily populated with neon lights and advertising as Hong Kong though not as tall and narrow as HK.
So my next step was to try and figure out how to get a taxi, so I did what I do best and watched.
I got myself over to one of the sides of the road eventually with my two rolling bags, violin case stacked over that and messenger bag full of... like everything, strapped sideways over my left shoulder and down to my opposite hip.
Im bundled... but its still pretty chilly. I get out my hotel reservation and I realize its a little bit of a long-shot for a taxi because my printer didn’t have black ink, and the korean part was particularly hard to read. I decided to try it anyway. Didn’t work... So I got myself inside a sort of office building and decided to rewrite the korean part and phone number in large black letters as well as I could using Chinese stroke order... luckily its the same with Korean, so it came out more or less right. Think 9 year old English. Some of the E’s and N’s might be super big, but it makes sense.
I get in the next taxi and he doesn’t recognize the address so we try to call the hotel for better directions... and there is some sort of call waiting sound. {ehhh ehhh ehhh ehhh} We try again... same thing. He says something in Korean and gesticulates at the phone. I smile nod and grunt because there is next to nothing else I can do. He puts the address in his GPS. We get to the end of the line on his GPS and I give him money and get out. He gesticulates some more and I go... uh huh uh huh uh huh.
Then I start wandering. I figure I can try one of the gazillion 7/11’s to see if they know where it is. I have one korean phrase that might be able to make that happen. I know how to ask where the bathroom is, so I just amended the phrase for my hotel and showed them my directions. the 7/11 guy looked at me, looked at my address, gave it a funny look and then started flipping through the book i had written it down in to see if there was more information. He saw one of the other pages I had written Chinese on. Then he asked me in Chinese if I could speak, and thank my lucky stars... I can ;D.
He helped me call the place again, and again... go the call waiting sound. I checked the original reservation email sent to me in my computer and confirmed the address and phone number... no dice.
He then explained to me that that number wasn’t in operation anymore... and he had no clue where that address was supposed to be.
Ok... maybe he’s not from around here.... maybe.
So I thank him, go back outside grab my bags and decide to wander some more. I had seen a picture of the place before, so I decided to see what I could see see see... all the while dragging around my life in several quite heavy suitcases in -9* weather. After a while, even roller bags begin to wear on you.
No dice. No dice. No dice.
I see a gazillion bars, coffee shops and restaurants. ok. I’ll try a coffee shop to see if I can find a map on google using their wifi. Damn pay as you go hotspots! I bought a green tea latte so that I wouldn’t feel super subconscious about my gypsy caravan in the coffee shop and. Again, no dice. The pay as you go hotspot is one of those things like they have in starbucks, you have to sign up with a credit card... which I would have done if the information wasn’t ALL in Korean. I took an exasperated sip of my green tea latte and knew that was the only sip i’d be taking of that beverage on my queasy stomach. I took my computer up to the counter to try my luck and see if they maybe had a different connection that I could try... with a wholesome password I could finagle out of them. No dice.
I went back to my bags and latte, threw the latte out and continued my oddessy.
In total I walked around with those bags for almost two hours I think is what it came down to. At the end I decide that I wasn’t going to find the phantom hotel... which may or may not exist... and I had better find another hotel and set my exhausted self down. I stopped back in the 7/11 to see if my Chinese speaking friend maybe knew of any other hotels in the area. He didn’t. No dice...
So I decided to wander in a new direction and perhaps i’d be fortunate enough to find SOMEPLACE that had the word hotel on the side of it.
Went through the like mega 5 way intersection that forms the center of Sinchon and went in a new direction... up hill... and then 2/3rds of the way up the hill I saw a lit up sign on the side (not neon mind you... ) for Hotel Good Time. I was fully aware that I might be walking into a sleezy den... but as long as the rooms didn’t have prostitutes in there waiting for you... I really didn’t care at this point. I got in and went to the front desk and ventured a hopeful wish, “English?” “A little” was the response. Oh thank my precious plush rabbit foot. I got a room ~ for a reasonable price ^_^ got in the elevator and opened the door.
I was immediately greeted with a wave of warm air flowing out on me from the dark and obscure interior. I put the room key in the slight that turned on the light and beheld the glories of my room. It was simple. But I loved it because it contained essential things like heat and a bed.
The first thing inside the door at door level was a square area where one would take off their shoes. Somehow that made intuitive sense to me. Then to the left there was a step up into the main part of the room about 6-8inches high.
I stepped up and noticed two things right away. My sock had gotten awfully bare in certain spots and I should think about getting rid of them... because while they are a wildly fashionable pair of argyle socks :D, no amount of awesome makes up for worn out soles...
The second thing I noticed was that the floors were heated. Oh God YES! I also had a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom which you had to step down into from the elevated bedroom area. There were two computers over near the wall which I would later finagle the english writing option out of and look up a map to my other hotel... and there was also a gargantuan like 4 foot long tv on the wall adjacent the bed, but I didn’t care much about that.
I laid down on the bed fully clothed and it took about all I had in me to not collapse right there and never wake up again.
I decided that I was completely vulnerable where I was. If I were to for some reason go unconcious... no one would be able to find me and about the only possibility of any aid coming to me would be someone finding my passport and contacting the Embassy. Not good odds.
I steeled my resolve and went over to the computers ~ turned one on and eventually figured out how to get to gmail and send an email to my parents and inform them of a few things before I was much to tired to do anything else but sleep and try and put the whole wretched experience behind me.
Email sent, I lay back down on the bed and told myself, “Someday, somebody is going to benefit from my pain.”
And then I was out.
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The next day I wandered around bagless :D for a while and eventually got up the gaul to ask for directions again, at my hotel none-the-less, though this concierge didn’t speak English or Chinese, but he looked up the address online and explained everything to me in Korean... of which I understood ..... Sinchon...... right.... 4 .... right. ok... So I only understood Sinchon.... because 4 and right were both gestured.... but still.
After another 1.5 hours of wandering in the morning light and deciphering clues ... in one of the myriad of back-ally communities that cover the surface of Seoul between the major roads, I eventually found my hotel. I never would have found it at night with those bags. Not a chance. I wasn’t even that far away... but I never would have found it that way.
If your booking a hotel in Seoul... book one that is definitely on a main road or has REAAAALY good directions and 3 phone numbers....鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-5553295238236698962011-11-07T09:17:00.001-08:002011-11-07T09:18:09.721-08:00Reporting Back (A letter to a close friend back in China, copied for y'alls viewin' pleasure))My goodness how I miss you.<br /><br />I was reading any news I can find about China as I do pretty much every day and this is the one that caught my attention and inspired me most today.<br /><br />http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-pacific-15616576<br /><br />I love it.<br /><br />Before I get into my little emotional monologue, please pass on my message of 大家好 and 皮特儿好想大家 to... 大家朋友们... <br /><br />I'm sure i've said it before but I wanna say it again~ the hospitality that you and your family have shown me has been incredible. I don't think i'd have fallen quite as much in love with China if I didn't have you all. You're more than a credit to your country and have been (a) phenomenal friend(s).<br /><br />As soon as I got off the plane in Chicago, I knew right away that I wouldn't be able to live in America for long. I guess i've gotten comfortable with being a 老外. Being a 小内 isn't anywhere near as much fun.... though I doooo like NOT being stared at as much. <br /><br />When I was in the airport surrounded by all these super fat americans I started getting really anxious and looking around for some chinese people or at least some asians to make me feel a little more comfortable :D. I found 3... and I think they're from taiwan or hongkong because they're passports were in traditional characters... Anyhow... it made me happy.<br /><br />I think one of the things I like most about China right now is how much change is happening. There is a lot of growth that is happening and about to happen. In America... its kind of embarrassing. We're going backwards. My brother and I were watching youtube for like an hour watching this "occupy wallstreet" bullshit. None of them really know why they're there. They're all protesting something different, which really just makes it a sad joke. There's a lot of angry people, but they just seem content to be angry and not actually get something done. Its like yelling the the face of a cow because its giving you milk not cheese. You dont actually need it to give you cheese, but you're happy because your getting rid of your stress... Stupid people.<br /><br />THere was even this one super ugly transvestite (man changing into a girl through surgery) who was calling "herself" a "Mao-ist" because "she" felt that society didn't accept her right to change "her" gender identity.<br /><br />Yes.... and 毛泽东 would totally encourage you to snip off your penis and grow boobs... RETARD! To the labour camps with that one...<br /><br />But these are all just details. I think what I like most about China and the Chinese people are that every one accepts that they're not being told the truth, and finds a way to live and discover whatever truth they deem important in spite of govt controls. Americans do one of about three things: (a)dig out some crazy ass conspiracy and pretend its the truth, (b) not care and just live their lives, (c) take the little bit of story that our government gives us and live on in our own little world...<br /><br />Government is pretty much the same wherever you go. Ours lies too.... but they're better at making the public believe they know whats going on because we are given "enough."<br /><br />I feel like I don't have anything to offer here. Its like... I could get a job here if I wanted, but i feel like any job I would possibly do... I might as well NOT do... and it wouldn't really matter. <br /><br />Being in Asia though, as a foreigner, I feel like there was a lot more learning going on. Its nice to be back home to see my family and what not, of course, but i feel like this is the "resting stage' before I move on to the next thing. I don't think there is much more "up" for me here right now. Its just ... more of the same. <br /><br />I wonder if KC would really be as happy here as he thinks he would. He'd love to be with his family I KNOW, and the standard of living yesss (GOSH the wine here is soooooo much better... and CHEAP ($5-$10 for a great bottle of wine... ), but would he feel normal here or would he get bored?<br /><br />That said, I'm really excited to go experience Korea for a while. It'll be very interesting to see how these countries (FAR east... Nor and Sou Kor,Jap,CHN,TAI, etc) grow together in the future. Im pretty sure i'll have something to do with it ^_^<br /><br />I've got my papers and paid for the first 2 semester at my program, so now all I need to do is go to the Korean Consulate and apply for my Visa, which im doing either the 10th or 11th of this month (just a few days now!!)<br /><br />Finally ~ its your turn. How are you/ what have you been doing lately?<br /><br />-Peter鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-18654737974870692272011-08-21T13:05:00.000-07:002011-08-21T13:06:11.888-07:00Autumns a comin' should be read before Mighty herds> Subject: Autumns a comin' ... eventually
<br />>
<br />> I think I wanna raise llammas. And why not?
<br />>
<br />> Anyhow, im at the park drinking coffee on a rarely cool and crisp evening under
<br />> the hopes that "fresh air kills germs." Its something I read on the internet so
<br />> it must be true.
<br />>
<br />> Yes... I'm again. I think my years of wild hedonism have finally caught up to
<br />> me. Ok... theres maybe five of them by my counting.
<br />>
<br />> I blame the under-sleeping and over-drinking. Regardless... trying to move
<br />> forward in health and cheer.
<br />>
<br />> Currently, and shockingly, there are some kids under the tutelage of a mildly
<br />> plump woman learning kung-fu. Rare. I see lots of taichi, lots of bad
<br />> instrumentalists, but this is probably the most impressive single display of
<br />> cultural discipline i've seen in China in a while. Refreshing.
<br />>
<br />> Anyhow back to the llamas.
<br />>
<br />> I was thinking about my station, my function, my direction and a few other
<br />> things that probably end in -tion.... and one of the things i've become
<br />> preoccupied with recently is, for lack of a better term ~ putting in roots.
<br />>
<br />> The allure of a gypsy lifestyle and traveling around "seeing the world" is
<br />> losing some of its flair now that im seeing much of the flair in a culture is
<br />> hidden within their rooted societies. Now - true, i've only really seen three
<br />> cultures, but imma go ahead and make that hypothesis.
<br />>
<br />> A rooted society doesnt have to be stationary. If you look at North Americans,
<br />> especially the young ones, we move all over the place. Theres college, post
<br />> college, the first real job, maybe a second job, marriage. All of those stages
<br />> could involve 2-4 years and then we move again. Realistically its not a long
<br />> time, but I think theres still a commitment to a society they want to be a part
<br />> of. Some of it is family driven, others career, but each of those aims still
<br />> includes them in a social group.
<br />>
<br />> So to put this a little more plainly, theres always my bottom line of "what do I
<br />> wanna be" but im also tinkering around with what it would mean to commit myself
<br />> more instead of holding back. I dont think i've held back from how ive
<br />> approached my adventures, but i've definitely limited one adventure for the sake
<br />> of pursuing another.
<br />>
<br />> No idea what rooting would mean for me, but ridiculous fancies of llamas and the
<br />> like definitely are on the list of random but wonderful.
<br />>
<br />> Ah, to some of the meat as well.
<br />>
<br />> Just got a text today from the functional manager (Chinese ~ awesome lady) of
<br />> the kids school saying the following:
<br />>
<br />> Maple: ""Big news! Maria wants me to ask you if you want to be the kids
<br />> supervisor of teaching. Sounds like she got some new idea from a Hong Kong guy.
<br />> You may need to do some working hours, I guess you can ask for a raise for
<br />> salary.
<br />>
<br />> Me: Interesting concept. what all does it include and what does ""working hours"
<br />> mean? Im open to the idea. I just want to now more.
<br />>
<br />> Maple: She did not say it clearly (peter ammended "typical"). Let me think. You
<br />> are in charge of everything, teaching and sales. She though your out going
<br />> personality will help us work well. I think she wants to make sure you're gonna
<br />> stay here.
<br />>
<br />> Me: Bahahah. thanks. I will think about it.
<br />>
<br />> Maple: Typical chinese politician way to make someone stay. It is not a bad
<br />> thing anyway. You can think about it. I will reply to her and say you are
<br />> thinking.
<br />>
<br />> --
<br />>
<br />> I do so enjoy honest relationships. I've been honest and clear with Maple and
<br />> she returns the favour: hahaha.
<br />>
<br />> If it doesn't require me tying myself down for a year, i'll consider it. Might
<br />> help me walk out of this firestorm with a few less burns if I work it right.
<br />>
<br />> --
<br />>
<br />> It might be fun to be a sheikh... i'll need mighty herds of llamas for that one,
<br />> or my enemies won't respect and fear me.
<br />>
<br />>
<br />鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-66834243305017876002011-08-21T12:36:00.001-07:002011-08-21T12:36:49.249-07:00Mighty Herdsattaining mighty herds thanks to a mass murderer in
<br />Norway! ITS BRILLIANT!
<br />
<br />For those of you interested in the actual story I was reading, here is the link:
<br />
<br />http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-14591013
<br />
<br />Its about Anders Behring Breivik the "gunman" who organized the Oslo bombing at
<br />the end of July and continued in is quest of destruction on a small island youth
<br />camp run by the ruling Labour party killing 68 people...
<br />
<br />(all facts yeilded from the following link http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-14591013)
<br />
<br />If you look at the final few lines of the article listed above, Breivik believes
<br />that his massacre was necessary to save Norway and Europe from Muslims and
<br />multiculturalism.
<br />
<br />Hmm, Muslims and multiculturalism. Two things im quite fond of. So here we have
<br />this man with the know-how and the drive to take the lives of a very large
<br />number of people ~ a deathcount of 76 people in three hours and one minute.
<br />INcredible.
<br />
<br />He knew how to do what he did, its not an accident. THat is not the work of
<br />insanity, thats the work of reasoning malice ~ something a lot more frightening.
<br />
<br />Now this blog isnt really about the malice of a hatefilled Norwegian, its about
<br />my mighty herds, and how I can achieve it.
<br />
<br />So what do alpaca llamas and mass-murder have in common? Norway.
<br />
<br />If your jaw is unhinged and the only sound that comes to mind is "uhhhhhh?", let
<br />me take this moment to show you my thoughts. I'll have to beat around the bush
<br />for a while, because I don't see an effective thesis statement that will make
<br />this easier. But sit back and enjoy the read, because I enjoy writing it ^_^
<br />
<br />~ A thought that has often entered my mind since I was young and starving for
<br />identity was the idea of "going back to my roots."
<br />
<br />I like many North Americans are very ill-acquainted with my roots, so much so in
<br />fact that i'm pretty sure that I sprouted up without any.
<br />
<br />If you ask me my heritage I can tell you maybe the first five layers on my
<br />mother and fathers sides...combined.. (is that only two layers then? hmm).
<br />Norwegian and Danish on dad's side... and then evidently there are some angry
<br />but shockingly beautiful Irish folk on that side too... whatever then theres
<br />mom's side with the Irish and Scottish and the token Native American Nationality
<br />of your choice. I'd like to say Apache or Comanche cause I think its cool ~ but
<br />its probably cherokee because everyone is....
<br />
<br />So as I developed and gained what I hope to be wisdom, I came to my own personal
<br />stage of life where I decided that my so called heritage was something that was
<br />not really claimable as a part of my own identity. No one alive in my family can
<br />speak Norwegian or Danish, or Gaelic, or Comanche (Cherokee), and you can be
<br />darn certain that we dont obey any of the customs or honour any of the holidays.
<br />
<br />As such, how can you really claim to be from a culture if all of the traces
<br />aside from this massive Norwegian/Danish forehead and screaming whiteness, have
<br />been lost to the dust of time?
<br />
<br />So instead of trying to hold onto my so called "roots" I as a matter of natural
<br />tendency and, including a healthy degree of pushing from my parents, began to
<br />inoculate myself with 'foreign' cultures (to include the wider array of
<br />cultures.. not just beyond country borders, but also country internal and
<br />sub-cultures). Instead of being a bush or a tree, I'm more like some of that
<br />climbing Ivy that makes old buildings looks o cool. I latch on to other things
<br />and gain awesomeness via synergy.
<br />
<br />Virginia creeper is possibly the best name ever for a plant (related to ivy I
<br />believe)... especially the way my mom says it.
<br />
<br />To start coming full circle... (waxing or waning? is the glass half empty now or
<br />half full? you decide, and Freud will interpret.)
<br />
<br />...I was thinking about how I will ever get my mighty herds if i keep jumping
<br />all over creation halfway looking for meaning and never finding any kind of
<br />anchor on life... essentially being like a drunk (if not ACTUALLY being a
<br />drunk): enjoying most of my time, but not having much to show for it aside from
<br />some wonderful stories which sometimes get forgotten. (not that I look down on
<br />wonderful stories)
<br />
<br />I want to make more of a mark, not just wonderful gestures of kindness and
<br />giving a demo class that'll knock your socks off.
<br />
<br />So what do I get riled up by? Malice and cultural ignorance/more importantly
<br />intolerance of cultural differences and or the growth of culture.
<br />
<br />
<br />Heres the new 100% set in stone master plan. Enjoy my time cooking in China and
<br />learning to actually enjoy teaching children here (odd how this happens). Go to
<br />Korea and study Korean, maybe learn Hapkido just for kicks and giggles (well not
<br />JUST I guess), and then not necessarily in this order, go to Norway and learn
<br />Norwegian, before after or during getting a masters and or Ph.D on the focus of
<br />estranged Ethnic societies -- particularly such as us in North America ~ who
<br />have no genuine connection to an ethnic identity and left with the serious
<br />question of "what does home mean." Applying to refugees and minority estranged
<br />groups as well.
<br />
<br />Then I can buy or have built (I am not my father. I have no interest in using my
<br />own beautiful hands to do it...) a lovely house in most likely the Pacific
<br />Northwest of North America and spend my off time raising llamas, entertaining
<br />what I imagine will be a very wide network of international friends and
<br />contacts, and researching and writing tomes of multicultural brilliance.
<br />
<br />As a hobby I might also include defending the world from those who hate
<br />multiculturalism by having deep and riveting conversations... and maybe through
<br />smashing their world to bits with my, by that time highly polished, hapkido
<br />skills.
<br />
<br />There you have it:
<br />
<br />Mighty Herds, 鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-22951312931029523732011-08-04T06:45:00.000-07:002011-08-04T06:46:17.867-07:00The RIGHT kind of CrazyThe Right Kind of Crazy<br /><br />I've seen myself settling into the groove. I've actually begun to derive some <br />degree of pleasure from teaching these kids classes, and working half of my <br />contracted hours while getting paid the same... isnt too bad a deal. Though <br />there is a side kick to this deal.<br /><br />I'm getting lazy and i've lost my passion. I dont have the interest to study, to <br />grow or pursue... almost anything. <br /><br />I like that least of all.<br /><br />So I've found myself trying to bring back passion and fire. <br /><br />I think its a lot like university when I realized that I was basically <br />insensitive and devoid of interpersonal emotion~ and went on a quest to change <br />it. Lets say that by the end of my quest I was sensitive enough to be moved to <br />tears by Charlottes web. But the be fair it IS a moving movie.. sorry for the <br />redundancy.<br /><br />I was thinking today, how to abandon my self-imposed duties and get back to <br />fanning the fire of something a bit more worth while. <br /><br />Im rebelling against China within myself right now. Mostly because i dont wanna <br />have the same goals that essentially every chinese person has. I want something <br />different. <br /><br />So here is my newest hair-brained scheme: go to Korea and spend all of my money <br />on a university program that'll take a year and a half to gain proficiency in <br />Korean. Study Hapkido for kicks and giggles (groan), and get some of that one <br />thing i've been craving for a while: Perspective. Something that doesn't exist <br />in this country...<br /><br />After that HAHA~ I can move to one of the three major areas of China that have <br />large Korean populations and continue to refine my languages simultaneously <br />while blowing glass and teaching English. <br /><br />Its brilliant I say.<br /><br />The ridiculous of it made me smile. and I'm pretty sure I felt a couple <br />ice-chips flake of of my heart, which in and of itself is worth it. I want more <br />of that.<br /><br />The right kind of crazy.<br /><br />Love you all, Hope your well.<br /><br /><br />RE: Mum~ please post.鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2652642102391839969.post-11118461038602845212011-06-07T19:08:00.000-07:002011-06-07T19:09:23.346-07:00Part 1 Train rides and unexpected thingsShangqiu 1 - The Train and Otherwise Unexpected Things<br /><br />I swear - its those things you just don’t expect that really do get you.<br /><br />Things like a fly in your meal at a restaurant.<br /><br />Things like getting the flu right as your favourite band comes into town for a concert.<br /><br />Things like not eating a real meal before getting on a 2.5 hour train to another city during the dinner time frame. Instant noodles have their place, but not as a base for the wrath and vengeance of baijiu (BAI joe) in a reunion dinner with an adoptive family you haven’t seen in a year...<br /><br />oh yes.. these things happen... in China<br /><br />(remind me to go somewhere that alcohol is illegal for my next language, I think my body is gonna need it before too long)<br /><br />Well lets start at the beginning. <br /><br />---<br />Took the train - pleasant as always, right on schedule ~ lots of room.<br /><br />My friend and I sat down at our seats across from a rather cute girl who was off in her corner doing cute chinese girl things... like taking pictures of herself and doing her best to eat a KFC chicken burger delicately. She succeeded.<br /><br />Hadn’t spoken to my friend in the longest time, so we chatted it up for the first hour and a half of our trip, I ate my instant noodles, which were no where near as wonderful as the should have been given that the first time I added water, the “hot” water dispenser was at best a very warm water dispenser- and that just doesn’t cut it for health destroying noodles. Second time around I had to pour off some of the flavour filled poison to get it hot enough... which more or less worked. Kept me from being starving which was helpful~ until the baijiu 2-3 hours later.<br /><br />After we both kind of ran out of interesting things to say, we started to play cards, eventually I learned a super-common chinese card game that doesn’t really have a name because thats what chinese people always play evidently. I won every time... somehow. I’m fast, but not usually good at strategy games, which this was: so I don’t get what happened that made me such “hot stuff”.<br /><br />I suggested we add the mystery girl sitting adjacent to us because she was pretending not to evesdrop and listen to her music the whole time... but lets face it - I’m just too darn charming :D and she laughed a few times.<br /><br />SOOO she joined, we played mystery game for the next 45 or so minutes. I continued to win every game.<br /><br />They really should have stopped giving me advice.<br /><br />We got near the end of our trip and as my friend and I had been chatting with this new girl - I decided that she should be a new part of my friend group. I have her business card ~ she’s 23 and a typical accountant slave for some local company in ZZ not far from my favourite coffee shop. I think we’ll go. ^_^<br /><br />In answer to your question - yes<br /><br />I’m pretty sure I hear Wall-E rolling around somewhere playing the “It only takes a moment” song from Hello Dolly (both great movies).<br /><br />I walked off that train with my other friend saying to me... “I’m pretty sure you’ll see her again.”<br /><br />Have to say... I’ve never ended up realizing that i’d ended up with a crush on a 2.5 hour train ride before. I think its funny if nothing else~<br /><br />MOVING ON! No time for questions now!<br /><br />Second, she’s just normal ~ but not. I dunno how you all feel about this concept, but I like to be disillusioned with the idea that people have a kind of aura. You can kind of feel people even when you don’t have any other of the five main senses to guide you.<br /><br />My first (and only haha) girlfriend and I had what we to this day call “A creepy connection.” There were times where we would know, almost like ESP (extra sensory perception) where the other was. No way either of us could really know according to the general 5 senses, but somehow we knew. For example: we were studying together another friend. This friend got up and walked away to go do something. Few minutes later, girlfriend (fairly recently made normal friend at the time actually) falls asleep with the book in her hand and it fell to the floor and made a loud noise. Noise didn’t wake her up... I though it was funny so I silently stole away to go whisper the situation to our other friend. We both had a visually loud, vocally mute - hearty belly laugh. Moments later, girlfriend wakes up and looks around kind of dazed. I asked her - did your book wake you up? “No” she says. “I just knew you’d gone and wondered where you disappeared to, so I woke up.”<br /><br />Odd eh?<br /><br />Other times, I’d be waiting for her in lobby according to the segregated dormitory system of a Christian university where men aren’t even allowed into the general living area of women. <br />I’d think she said something to me, so i’d get up to look annnnd.... she’s not there.<br /><br />Seconds later she walks through the door. “What’s that you said?” I ask her. <br /><br />“I ain’t said nuthin’ foo” she responds (ok she didn’t actually say THAT but you get the idea)<br /><br />There are other instances, but I’m not gonna bore you with them.<br /><br />So anyhow the point is that I had a strange sense about this girl. She seemed just normal, but not. If I had to give her a colour... it’d be purple. <br /><br />Cute - YAH! but there’s lots of cute people im not at ALL interested in here. In fact this is the first crush I can remember having in... we’ll there’s been another somewhat recently but I don’t wanna focus on that now.<br /><br />I like people that perceive. People who are aware but don’t gawk. In China its sooooo common to be stared at. I still don’t like it. <br /><br />She was eve’s dropping all over the place. She wasn’t staring, but at the same time was keeping track of what was going on. When my friend and I were playing cards at first, and she was minding her own business ~ she’d chuckle when she thought something was funny, but didn’t feel the need to insert herself in the situation. <br /><br />Lord I love polite. ~ Can I just reinstate that?! I’ve learned to deal with a certain disregard to order and my imperialistic use of the word “civilization.” <br /><br />Aside from that, once we started playing cards ~ personality really kicked in. Purple for sure. <br /><br />I’m not even sure how to describe it ~ its not the same happy cute bunny persona that so many chinese try to put on. Lord I hate the word happy now. I hear it in Chinese every day and I just want to spit on everyone who says it. Seriously - these thoughts go through my mind. I start haukin’! <br /><br />It was almost half-emo but not so over the top. BUT there were also those moments where genuine cheerfulness and real laughter would come through. ohhhh my. Now thats just fun.<br /><br />She just was - she wasn’t trying too hard to fake it for a foreigner.<br /><br />Who knows ~ Coffee is harmless right?<br /><br />I’ve been reflecting on it for a few days now - why do I think I got myself a little crush on mystery girl.<br /><br />There’s a few elements: first I think i’ve started to open myself to the idea of MAYBE dating someone. Before it was just no no no no NO! stop suggesting it people! I dont want it! Then I started to think, as you’ve all seen me do if you’ve been reading these blogs~ maybe I do want it. I dont. But maybe... hmmm.<br /><br />I’ve spent so much time not wanting to date, for a number of reasons ~ which i’ll not fully expand here because its deeply personal and other things would just take too long. The big thing is I don’t want to waste my life on a fling. Everybody has those ~ I want something different.<br /><br />I still want something different, but the more I watch, the less genuine pairs I see. I see lots of couples, but few that really fit together. The ones that do make me smile. <br /><br />But more than wanting someone thats necessarily “my fit” - what I want is to try and figure out what that means. <br /><br />I conclusion I came to a while ago that a big part of why I’ve not really been interested in most girls is that I think I was too busy looking for God inside of them. I was looking for someone who was “perfect”... and so help me its just not there. I don’t think theres really that YinYang relationship out there people! No one compliments you perfectly. But - there can be someone who complements you well. <br /><br />A friend told me a few months ago, “Don’t worry about it, just keep rockin’ your swaggah.” Which basically means (for you old and or foreign people ^_^) Be yourself. (nowhere near as much fun to say as swaggah “swagger...”)<br /><br />I want someone who is interested in getting to know me ~ but still wants to be themselves. it doesn’t need to be a girlfriend - certainly doesn’t need to be a wife. <br /><br />Great authors like J.R. Tolkien, C.S Louis, Mark Twain, Robert Frost, all those random poets that I actually kinda hate all had their pen pals, people they could sound ideas off of and “go through life with” why can’t I?<br /><br />Now there’s all of you. I love you ~ indeed I do. But I need a few more people on this side of the ocean, and I will expand my dominion in every which way thank you very much.<br /><br />We have a phrase - make love not war. We say, “he’s a lover, not a fighter...” Why not be both? King David was ~ bit of a horn dog honestly, but for someone who took so many lives and was soooooo obscenely courageous on the field of battle, he was also really sensitive and humanly fragile - in ways most of us these days are not.<br /><br />So what im saying is that I have know idea or plans for what will happen here. And thats what I want to leave it at. I just wanna see. And I want the freedom to see. I guess this is basically me trying to give myself that freedom. <br /><br />I think “Hello Dolly” is everything im thinking of right now... b/c “Before the Parade Passes By” is running through my head.鬼佬http://www.blogger.com/profile/08494628885707787933noreply@blogger.com0