Tuesday, July 2, 2013
What's up with this big break?? Trillion of happenings
Here we go again, Aha!! Am just so tired to explain one hiatus after another. I just better keep my mouth shut.... Well, why don't I just admit that I am busy and lazy.
I need to deal with my PhD corrections. I need to move to a new office and then... to a new job!!! Big deal!!
Changing to a new job and getting used to the new environment is one thing. I got a new job. In fact, it is quite a fun job but absolutely challenging.The locale is a challenge (middle of nowhere), the admin system is a challenge, the students are a challenge (in fact they are the least challenging) But most important of all the challenges is the food!!! God forbids!! I have never been in a place where food is scarce and tastes so awful and the variety is just... in fact, there is no variety at all. I see the same thing every day...Aw....
In short, after I have been diagnosed with ocular hypertension (possibility of leading to Glaucoma and then.... blind)... I have been practising how to think like a blind person. I try to close my eyes and practise walking without a stick (stretching out two hands and touching things) Maybe I should get myself a stick, too.I don't know since when I have become a hypochondria. Well, it might have been because both my parents died in such a short while. Or may be it is just that i am a freak.
Anyway, back to the settling in period. It is no fun when you feel sick and you discover your new job and everything in your job is a challenge. I must admit I am getting old now. I used to love adventures. Now, I hate flying, I hate going to a place without food, and when I travel, I love to stay in a good hotel. I think I am degrading into those imbeciles where they just want to lie down and be a zombie.
In some way, the new job is bringing me out of my comfort zone even though I keep telling people that I got very angry all the time and I want to quit. (At one point, I was thinking of recording my daily swearing and conversation people and do a discourse analysis on the degree of verbal abuse and violence of my speech). I guess it is such a phase, and when you are getting old you want to be left alone in peace.
OR maybe I have become one of those young and angry souls, the post 80s and 90s. The z- generation. But I belong to the X generation...At least that's what I think.
Can I just ask for the look of the z-generation but the grace and maturity of my own generation, pleeeease? Urgh... depressing
Saturday, January 1, 2011
A three months hiatus - and lots had happened Part I
1. Too much flying killing my body
2. Stranded because of the endless snowstorm
3. First Time in a Chinese Jiao festival
1 Too much flying bit -
It's more than three months since I wrote my blog. The constant flying in and out is killing my body. I have been best known for being tough and indefatigable. But then I noticed I was getting joint pain and sore back and I thought it's because I am getting old. So, one day, I sat down and thought about how busy I have been and discovered that I have been flying in and out for 23 times and about 13 times are long haul (flights that took more than 10 hours). Then I realize that this is nothing to do with my age, but more a historic busy year. To me, it's very reassuring.
2. I got so pissed off when I was stranded in Glasgow and couldn't make it to the wedding of the village chief's son.
I had rescheduled my flight to return earlier to Hong Kong because of the wedding. I was really looking forward to it because the wedding is supposed to be very Hakka (a very exciting piece of news as I am still working on my research) and I could really witness how a Hakka wedding really goes.
I was rubbing my hands and anticipating my first real hakka wedding. It's not like I have never been to a wedding since I moved into the village. But they are no longer the traditional type of Hakka wedding. Instead, a lot of them are now adopting the new city dwellers type of wedding style. So, I thought I was really in luck.
Then, two days before I left for Hong Kong, snow just came out of nowhere. I was so anguished on Sat night. The night before I left for Hong Kong. A friend of my niece's was predicting that I could be in trouble. It turned out to be true. The snow kept falling heavily the following day and I was hoping that someone could shuffle the snow quickly. Well, I am from Hong Kong. And I shouldn't believe that anywhere else in the world operates like my hometown. Upon my arrival to the airport, despite making a change to another flight, I was stranded at the Glasgow airport and I needed to rebook another flight to London in order to go back to Hong Kong. I went home, in distraught. I had to pull the 23 kg luggage all the way home, on a snow ground of at least 5 inches thick. How exciting can it be? And how frustrating!
I then rebooked it to Thursday, after checking with the Observatory. With my track record of bad luck, I was texted on Wed night (while I was sleeping) that my flight got cancelled again!!!! I was so anxious and depressed!! Well, I know that a lot of people are in my situation but at that point all you can think of is just yourself. I then decided that I booked another flight a week away from now so that I don't have to pay HKD 1000 each time I change my flight. And then I change the domestic flight to Sunday, a few days ahead of flight leaving for Hong Kong.
Well, finally, I got to leave on schedule and so I quickly changed my flight to Hong Kong and flying on the same night.
Well, I guess it's not easy to be peripatetic and I have no envy for those who live on a plane. And certainly I hope I won't get a job that requires me to be like this. I have enough and I need a break!!
3) First time in the Jiao festival
well, that's a nice bit that I will put it up with photos, next time when I am blogging. Hope it won't take another 6 months. :P
2. Stranded because of the endless snowstorm
3. First Time in a Chinese Jiao festival
1 Too much flying bit -
It's more than three months since I wrote my blog. The constant flying in and out is killing my body. I have been best known for being tough and indefatigable. But then I noticed I was getting joint pain and sore back and I thought it's because I am getting old. So, one day, I sat down and thought about how busy I have been and discovered that I have been flying in and out for 23 times and about 13 times are long haul (flights that took more than 10 hours). Then I realize that this is nothing to do with my age, but more a historic busy year. To me, it's very reassuring.
2. I got so pissed off when I was stranded in Glasgow and couldn't make it to the wedding of the village chief's son.
I had rescheduled my flight to return earlier to Hong Kong because of the wedding. I was really looking forward to it because the wedding is supposed to be very Hakka (a very exciting piece of news as I am still working on my research) and I could really witness how a Hakka wedding really goes.
I was rubbing my hands and anticipating my first real hakka wedding. It's not like I have never been to a wedding since I moved into the village. But they are no longer the traditional type of Hakka wedding. Instead, a lot of them are now adopting the new city dwellers type of wedding style. So, I thought I was really in luck.
Then, two days before I left for Hong Kong, snow just came out of nowhere. I was so anguished on Sat night. The night before I left for Hong Kong. A friend of my niece's was predicting that I could be in trouble. It turned out to be true. The snow kept falling heavily the following day and I was hoping that someone could shuffle the snow quickly. Well, I am from Hong Kong. And I shouldn't believe that anywhere else in the world operates like my hometown. Upon my arrival to the airport, despite making a change to another flight, I was stranded at the Glasgow airport and I needed to rebook another flight to London in order to go back to Hong Kong. I went home, in distraught. I had to pull the 23 kg luggage all the way home, on a snow ground of at least 5 inches thick. How exciting can it be? And how frustrating!
I then rebooked it to Thursday, after checking with the Observatory. With my track record of bad luck, I was texted on Wed night (while I was sleeping) that my flight got cancelled again!!!! I was so anxious and depressed!! Well, I know that a lot of people are in my situation but at that point all you can think of is just yourself. I then decided that I booked another flight a week away from now so that I don't have to pay HKD 1000 each time I change my flight. And then I change the domestic flight to Sunday, a few days ahead of flight leaving for Hong Kong.
Well, finally, I got to leave on schedule and so I quickly changed my flight to Hong Kong and flying on the same night.
Well, I guess it's not easy to be peripatetic and I have no envy for those who live on a plane. And certainly I hope I won't get a job that requires me to be like this. I have enough and I need a break!!
3) First time in the Jiao festival
well, that's a nice bit that I will put it up with photos, next time when I am blogging. Hope it won't take another 6 months. :P
Saturday, September 18, 2010
A step closer to the homestretch - and a different look at my "home"
I must confess that I haven't done much after finishing the entire draft in August. I returned to Hong Kong to visit my boyfriend and my brother, who was hospitalized for an unknown lump on his back only to discover that it's infection by the mould. How bizarre it is. I had a wonderful time in Hong Kong, following the advice from my supervisor, who believes that I should take a break so that I can have a fresh eye on my thesis.
I took her advice faithfully, ending up doing nothing but spending time dine and wine away my entire vacation in Hong Kong. A good thing to do, I must say. Never in my life can I have so much pleasure and leisure in Hong Kong. Work pressure is outrageous in this little town. With over 7 million population in just about 2000 sq.km, it is not just packed and compact in terms of physical space, but also emotionally, you feel you are entirely filled up. Virtually I work 10 to 12 hours a day. Starting from 10 am to 10 pm. And when I go home, I still work for an hour or two when I get home. This is the awful thing about technological advancement. When all your documents and work is just a click away.
What I am glad about the trip is that at least I could act like a visitor for a while to enjoy something I could barely do when I was in my hometown. And looking at my home city from a new perspective. It is vibrant, it's lovely, at times suffocating, but after all, it makes you feel fully-charged and young and crazy all the time.
Viva Hong Kong!!
I took her advice faithfully, ending up doing nothing but spending time dine and wine away my entire vacation in Hong Kong. A good thing to do, I must say. Never in my life can I have so much pleasure and leisure in Hong Kong. Work pressure is outrageous in this little town. With over 7 million population in just about 2000 sq.km, it is not just packed and compact in terms of physical space, but also emotionally, you feel you are entirely filled up. Virtually I work 10 to 12 hours a day. Starting from 10 am to 10 pm. And when I go home, I still work for an hour or two when I get home. This is the awful thing about technological advancement. When all your documents and work is just a click away.
What I am glad about the trip is that at least I could act like a visitor for a while to enjoy something I could barely do when I was in my hometown. And looking at my home city from a new perspective. It is vibrant, it's lovely, at times suffocating, but after all, it makes you feel fully-charged and young and crazy all the time.
Viva Hong Kong!!
Saturday, September 4, 2010
10 hours stuck in Heathrow- a consequence of sheer stupidity
You wouldn't be able to believe this. I am now staying at Weatherspoon in Heathrow, plugging in my computer , writing the blog, because I still have almost five hours to kill before boarding on my connecting flight to Glasgow. In fact, I have been in the airport for, let me think..., five hours already.
You may wonder how on earth I can end up getting stuck for ten hours at the airport and how I am going to kill my time. Well, Well, to answer the first question, let me explain a little bit. I learnt from a Glaswegian (Chinese) that there is a good deal traveling to London with a package of hotel plus train that cost around 100 pounds and staying in a hotel close to where I usually hang out (the same old place, Bloomsbury, Covent Garden...). So, I went to that travel agent, only to find that it's a deal offered to two persons. I thought they are decent enough so when I discovered that the BA flight I tried to order is a bit more expensive than my original budget. I called them for help. They gave me a deal a bit cheaper than purchasing online, (around 40 pounds less. But I ended up getting charged an extra 18 pounds...Urgh...)and when I talked to the agent, it was early, and I never functioned properly in the morning. So, I said yes. By the time I came to my senses that I could be in trouble, it was already too late. Because then, I realized I would need to wait for ten hours at the airport. The flight was booked. The damage was done. So, I just cheered myself up that actually, it's not too bad. I could nap and then read and then get online and then do some window shopping. Sounds like a good plan. So, here I am, slept for 5 hours on the plane. (Plus 45 mins at the airport.) Finished the Glamour magazine and half of The New Yorker and plunging in the most-wanted-to-read book of the moment LOOT by Sharon Waxman, I came to my own realization from this self-stranded episode.
Points to note
1.OK. Don’t be stupid enough to save just 50 to 100 pounds at the expense of ten hour jail at the airport. You may end up blaming no one but yourself for gloating at your frugality and cautious spending. But seriously, I need to think I am frugal because I am so totally NOT one, never ever will get close to that word. Believe me.
2.Even though shops are everywhere at T5 in Heathrow. It will drive you completely nuts for not having enough money to shop till you drop when you are stuck here. Seeing all the beautiful things and rating how much you can spend is like you are seeing the divine Pierce Brosnan naked in his best form but can’t touch him
Good things about self-stranding
I bumped into
1)Pamela Anderson, aka the Baywatch babe and best known for her absolutely gobsmacking sex video with her ex, strutting at T5 without any shoes on. She looks exactly like what I saw at Borat. A blonde with a tanned body, nothing amazing really. She is just about my height. Am short. (or may be am just jealous - I am wearing my geeky glasses to hide my bleary,dopey eyes)
2) A bunch of UN Argentinian armies. Wanted to ask them where they are going but worried that they may think I am a freak
3) A total jerk who is totally self-obsessed with his feet and gave me a shot and gushed, "It’s my feet" when I asked him to excuse me and my little suitcase and God knows why the wheels of my suitcase just wanted to attack him. Well, I know. Because when I asked him to excuse me he refused to do so. Fucking jerk I told you to excuse me. What if I am Angelina Jolie? Will you still care about your little feet or will you be down on own stupid knees?
Okok! It’s fun to be stuck here, even though I am dead knackered.
You may wonder how on earth I can end up getting stuck for ten hours at the airport and how I am going to kill my time. Well, Well, to answer the first question, let me explain a little bit. I learnt from a Glaswegian (Chinese) that there is a good deal traveling to London with a package of hotel plus train that cost around 100 pounds and staying in a hotel close to where I usually hang out (the same old place, Bloomsbury, Covent Garden...). So, I went to that travel agent, only to find that it's a deal offered to two persons. I thought they are decent enough so when I discovered that the BA flight I tried to order is a bit more expensive than my original budget. I called them for help. They gave me a deal a bit cheaper than purchasing online, (around 40 pounds less. But I ended up getting charged an extra 18 pounds...Urgh...)and when I talked to the agent, it was early, and I never functioned properly in the morning. So, I said yes. By the time I came to my senses that I could be in trouble, it was already too late. Because then, I realized I would need to wait for ten hours at the airport. The flight was booked. The damage was done. So, I just cheered myself up that actually, it's not too bad. I could nap and then read and then get online and then do some window shopping. Sounds like a good plan. So, here I am, slept for 5 hours on the plane. (Plus 45 mins at the airport.) Finished the Glamour magazine and half of The New Yorker and plunging in the most-wanted-to-read book of the moment LOOT by Sharon Waxman, I came to my own realization from this self-stranded episode.
Points to note
1.OK. Don’t be stupid enough to save just 50 to 100 pounds at the expense of ten hour jail at the airport. You may end up blaming no one but yourself for gloating at your frugality and cautious spending. But seriously, I need to think I am frugal because I am so totally NOT one, never ever will get close to that word. Believe me.
2.Even though shops are everywhere at T5 in Heathrow. It will drive you completely nuts for not having enough money to shop till you drop when you are stuck here. Seeing all the beautiful things and rating how much you can spend is like you are seeing the divine Pierce Brosnan naked in his best form but can’t touch him
Good things about self-stranding
I bumped into
1)Pamela Anderson, aka the Baywatch babe and best known for her absolutely gobsmacking sex video with her ex, strutting at T5 without any shoes on. She looks exactly like what I saw at Borat. A blonde with a tanned body, nothing amazing really. She is just about my height. Am short. (or may be am just jealous - I am wearing my geeky glasses to hide my bleary,dopey eyes)
2) A bunch of UN Argentinian armies. Wanted to ask them where they are going but worried that they may think I am a freak
3) A total jerk who is totally self-obsessed with his feet and gave me a shot and gushed, "It’s my feet" when I asked him to excuse me and my little suitcase and God knows why the wheels of my suitcase just wanted to attack him. Well, I know. Because when I asked him to excuse me he refused to do so. Fucking jerk I told you to excuse me. What if I am Angelina Jolie? Will you still care about your little feet or will you be down on own stupid knees?
Okok! It’s fun to be stuck here, even though I am dead knackered.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Life without work
I have taken a six-month no pay leave to stay in Glasgow, which is where my niece lives, to finish my draft for the September submission. I have been living in London twice before. First when I did my Master degree and then three years ago, for my PhD. I returned to Hong Kong to finish my fieldwork and now I am here, in Glasgow, trying to save money while writing up my remaining chapters.
I must say that living with my family has its pros and cons. On one hand, I finally got to reunite with my niece, who had spent most of her life in my family. She was practically raised by my parents. Befoe she moved to Glagow to study, she returned to her parents' home for a few years. Then she got married and had lived here for more than 15 years. We spent long nights pow-wowing and gossiping about the people and events in Glasgow. Trust me, you can spend endless nights catching up with someone who grew up with you, and you can have endless topics to talk about.
But then, the problem is that you will just have nothing but only social activities, day after day, especially she has a six-year old son, who is such a joy to be with. I spend Saturdays looking after him. And this summer, we spend time swimming and going to the park. I cook for him and we talk so much. It's wonderful to be able to help raise a boy and to be part of his life, albeit it's going to be really short time. I haven't had such a domestic bliss since both my parents die a few years ago.
And I have to finally get to go to a wonderful church. I have finally got to experience how a wonderful church is like. Wonderful service and the people in that church is so filled with love. The church is such a children-friendly church where you see how the church-goers go and talk to every single child. This is the testimony of a Christ-like community.
Life without work is fun. I really enjoy some time by myself and I get to work on my own stuff. But then I do miss Hong Kong and my friends and especially my work. I miss my colleagues who are also my friends, I miss the collegiality. I miss my students. And most important of all, I miss my boyfriend who is now by himself. This is kind of romantic for a while and it's a wonderful litmus test to our relationship. I get to put things into perspective and I cherish him more.
Without work, life is still pleasant. But I guess it will be nice if I have work, but not too busy and I can still have a life. And I can just spend some time with my boyfriend, just doing nothing but be with him. This is something I am really looking forward to. In two weeks time, without work, just me and him, by ourselves.
I must say that living with my family has its pros and cons. On one hand, I finally got to reunite with my niece, who had spent most of her life in my family. She was practically raised by my parents. Befoe she moved to Glagow to study, she returned to her parents' home for a few years. Then she got married and had lived here for more than 15 years. We spent long nights pow-wowing and gossiping about the people and events in Glasgow. Trust me, you can spend endless nights catching up with someone who grew up with you, and you can have endless topics to talk about.
But then, the problem is that you will just have nothing but only social activities, day after day, especially she has a six-year old son, who is such a joy to be with. I spend Saturdays looking after him. And this summer, we spend time swimming and going to the park. I cook for him and we talk so much. It's wonderful to be able to help raise a boy and to be part of his life, albeit it's going to be really short time. I haven't had such a domestic bliss since both my parents die a few years ago.
And I have to finally get to go to a wonderful church. I have finally got to experience how a wonderful church is like. Wonderful service and the people in that church is so filled with love. The church is such a children-friendly church where you see how the church-goers go and talk to every single child. This is the testimony of a Christ-like community.
Life without work is fun. I really enjoy some time by myself and I get to work on my own stuff. But then I do miss Hong Kong and my friends and especially my work. I miss my colleagues who are also my friends, I miss the collegiality. I miss my students. And most important of all, I miss my boyfriend who is now by himself. This is kind of romantic for a while and it's a wonderful litmus test to our relationship. I get to put things into perspective and I cherish him more.
Without work, life is still pleasant. But I guess it will be nice if I have work, but not too busy and I can still have a life. And I can just spend some time with my boyfriend, just doing nothing but be with him. This is something I am really looking forward to. In two weeks time, without work, just me and him, by ourselves.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Life without writing the blog ....
I must admit that life without feeling the urge and the need to write the blog is not as liberating as I thought. I grew lazy and tired after my last bit in the blog about my thesis because I am actually, and still, writing my thesis. I am not living in limbo. And I am not living my life without writing. I am just living a life writing exclusively on my thesis as I will need to hand in my draft very soon. I am frantically typing and reading every day. And keeping my fingers crossed for being able to finish before the deadline so that I won't need to pay the full fee, i.e. 12000 pounds. Instead, I could pay the continuation status fee, which is around 700 something pounds. So, my life now in Scotland, which is where I am living but not where I am studying, includes writing and reading and writing and of course hanging out with my families. Nothing exciting really.
I pick up the pen (well,... not in the literal sense as I am just hitting the keyboard of my computer...) and resume writing the blog mainly because my boyfriend teased me about linking my blog to my university website and the last bit was so obsolete that it was written eight months ago. I just thought: if any of my students read my blog. That may think I am a looney or a weirdo which I am neither of that, so I might as well write a bit about how I feel without writing the blog and trust me, my student, if any of you reads my blog, at least you know the outline of this. OK! Here it goes, at least for the coming few weeks, I will focus on talking about some of the extraordinary discovery about my stay in Scotland, which is totally novel to me. And then how the Chinese community works and how I adjust my anti-social sentiment to the kind-hearted, helpful and lovely group of people here. How bad is the British economy here that people have to be really aware. How I am planning for the conference next year which hopefully could be a wonderful holiday with my boyfriend.
I guess now I can leave my heart at rest and get back into bed.
See you
I pick up the pen (well,... not in the literal sense as I am just hitting the keyboard of my computer...) and resume writing the blog mainly because my boyfriend teased me about linking my blog to my university website and the last bit was so obsolete that it was written eight months ago. I just thought: if any of my students read my blog. That may think I am a looney or a weirdo which I am neither of that, so I might as well write a bit about how I feel without writing the blog and trust me, my student, if any of you reads my blog, at least you know the outline of this. OK! Here it goes, at least for the coming few weeks, I will focus on talking about some of the extraordinary discovery about my stay in Scotland, which is totally novel to me. And then how the Chinese community works and how I adjust my anti-social sentiment to the kind-hearted, helpful and lovely group of people here. How bad is the British economy here that people have to be really aware. How I am planning for the conference next year which hopefully could be a wonderful holiday with my boyfriend.
I guess now I can leave my heart at rest and get back into bed.
See you
Friday, April 2, 2010
Revelation from my India trip
I have stopped writing the blog again!!! This time is like for the entire life!! Not really.... In fact, I have only stopped writing for a few months. A few things I have done in the past few months: I have got myself a boyfriend, which is good and uplifting because he is quite a good catch (LOL), at least in my opinion. I went back to London to show my second chapter to my supervisor, and it turned out not bad. I have also managed to produce a paper for a Feminist and Geography conference, which is organized by RASPAS of ANU and the Delhi University. I wrote on self-reflexivity in feminist research. And it was so unexpectely good. Because I found out a few things about myself and about India.
I went to India once and that was ages ago and I didn't spend much time hanging out as I was just visiting the Delhi bureau. This time is the same: I went there arrving Tuesday night and left on Wednesday night (blah!!). That was a really awful experience as the plane left not until 23:00pm, which is 1:30am in the morning!!! So, again, I didn't get a chance to see Delhi myself.
But then along the way to the university, I saw camp after camp along the construction site for the commonwealth game. At first I thought that was for the construction only. But then later on I saw naked kids running around the camps and when I asked about what that is. An Indian student told me the poor lived there at night. And the construction site is for building better electicity network for the commonwealth game. Upon arrival at the university international residence, I was so shocked as I saw electricity didn't run as freely as in the cities I have visited in the past. They still required a generator to regulate the electricity we used. I thought that happened ages ago and should have been better. Well, obviously, there is lots of room for improvement.
The conference was great. The Indian students are efficient, smart and hospitable. I had a great time there meeting people from different places and getting a sense of what my future would be like. Going to conference after conference and trying to get my papers and books published. Well, not bad. It's scintillating and it's absolutely necessary if I don't want to get alzheimer when I am old. (I hope not frail :P).
And about myself: My Indian counterparts told me that I actually look like an Indian, which is all too greek to me. I have been told I look like: Indonesian, Filipino (you have our faces), Nepalese, Thai, Vietnamese, Burmese and now one more: Indian from the north-eastern province. I guess this is good to work as a journalist with such a trans-regional face. Now, I am no longer a journalist but an ethnographer, perhaps I will test how this could work for me in the future when I conduct fieldwork outside my own place. It could be lots of fun. At least, I am keeping my fingers crossed.
I went to India once and that was ages ago and I didn't spend much time hanging out as I was just visiting the Delhi bureau. This time is the same: I went there arrving Tuesday night and left on Wednesday night (blah!!). That was a really awful experience as the plane left not until 23:00pm, which is 1:30am in the morning!!! So, again, I didn't get a chance to see Delhi myself.
But then along the way to the university, I saw camp after camp along the construction site for the commonwealth game. At first I thought that was for the construction only. But then later on I saw naked kids running around the camps and when I asked about what that is. An Indian student told me the poor lived there at night. And the construction site is for building better electicity network for the commonwealth game. Upon arrival at the university international residence, I was so shocked as I saw electricity didn't run as freely as in the cities I have visited in the past. They still required a generator to regulate the electricity we used. I thought that happened ages ago and should have been better. Well, obviously, there is lots of room for improvement.
The conference was great. The Indian students are efficient, smart and hospitable. I had a great time there meeting people from different places and getting a sense of what my future would be like. Going to conference after conference and trying to get my papers and books published. Well, not bad. It's scintillating and it's absolutely necessary if I don't want to get alzheimer when I am old. (I hope not frail :P).
And about myself: My Indian counterparts told me that I actually look like an Indian, which is all too greek to me. I have been told I look like: Indonesian, Filipino (you have our faces), Nepalese, Thai, Vietnamese, Burmese and now one more: Indian from the north-eastern province. I guess this is good to work as a journalist with such a trans-regional face. Now, I am no longer a journalist but an ethnographer, perhaps I will test how this could work for me in the future when I conduct fieldwork outside my own place. It could be lots of fun. At least, I am keeping my fingers crossed.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The cost of my PhD - stress, nothing but stress
This is my third year and hopefully, marching slowly but surely towards completing my entire thesis of 100,000 words. Well, the cause of writing never did run smooth. I just came back from London, with my first chapter done, at least for the moment. But then when I think of the five remaining chapters ahead. I cannot help but shiver. After all, those are demanding chapters that require absolutely meticulous details. Since I am doing gender studies/anthrpology research, I am already in an area where writing and carving out chapters requires sweat and blood. What does it mean? Writing thesis on discipline such as communication is demanding in terms of the research process but then chapterwise they are standardized. Whereas for what I am doing, I may end up moving my chapters a lot and that's my worst fear. I can see what the stress has done to me. To be fair, it's more both my work and my study are give me stress. More from work though as my superboss is a bit....eh.... mad at the moment for whatever reasons. When someone is unreasonable, it's a plague, it affects everyone.
Coming back to my study. Why then do I want to do a PhD? For practical reason, I need it to have a job in the academia. As for others, I think it's a challenge to one's stamina and intellect, as well as perseverance. I have always thrived on stress. Whenever there is a deadline, I produce stuff that of absolutely sensational quality. You may think three to four years is a helluva time. But I tell you the truth (haha. this is what i have picked up from bible study. Whenever Jesus wants to make his case, he will always start with "I tell you the truth"). If you are really aiming at doing a thorough, rigorous research, three to four years is a pretty short time. And I have already passed the second and marching towards the third time. The clock is ticking and I am still quivering at the very idea of handing in my work in Mid-September. What to do? What to do? I don't know.
Well, I guess from now on I will need to change my strategy. Instead of thinking how I thrive on stress, I will just write whatever comes to my head to make enough words at least for the full draft next September so that I can buy one more year to fact-check and edit the entire piece. I am keeping my fingers crossed that I will be able to do it.
Coming back to my study. Why then do I want to do a PhD? For practical reason, I need it to have a job in the academia. As for others, I think it's a challenge to one's stamina and intellect, as well as perseverance. I have always thrived on stress. Whenever there is a deadline, I produce stuff that of absolutely sensational quality. You may think three to four years is a helluva time. But I tell you the truth (haha. this is what i have picked up from bible study. Whenever Jesus wants to make his case, he will always start with "I tell you the truth"). If you are really aiming at doing a thorough, rigorous research, three to four years is a pretty short time. And I have already passed the second and marching towards the third time. The clock is ticking and I am still quivering at the very idea of handing in my work in Mid-September. What to do? What to do? I don't know.
Well, I guess from now on I will need to change my strategy. Instead of thinking how I thrive on stress, I will just write whatever comes to my head to make enough words at least for the full draft next September so that I can buy one more year to fact-check and edit the entire piece. I am keeping my fingers crossed that I will be able to do it.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Celebrating the advent of power 40? really?
Have stopped writing the blog for a month because I need to finish my first chapter of my PhD thesis. It's quite an agonizing but also exhilarating experience as it's like giving birth to my baby. Once the first chapter is done, it's like I have got my first baby out and am waiting to see if it turns out to be with mild defects or, seriously impaired. Await Judgement from my supervisor.
To me, stages of Life mean trials after trials. In the past three years, I have been through a lot: my mother's death on the day I left for London for my study, and then my divorce, two months after my mother's death, and then my return to Hong Kong for fieldwork and moved to the village. Then, my father's death and now will need to move back to London for six months, next year.
Another thing that haunts most of the people, I guess more to women, is aging. It reminds me that I am coming to another stage when I have to act like a sophisticated, cool, well-educated lady. I try, but, believe me, it's not really what I am in person. Unlike other women who are very concerned about the age thing, I have never felt this threat until I see my hair turning grey, strand after strand. It's a genetic thing. But it also tells me that my doll face would perhaps need to be more well taken of.
This is shared by my friends who were with me since high school. We were celebrating the 10th wedding anniversary of one of our great high school friends. And then during the buffet lunch, we lamented at how time flies. And how we were marching close to 40, with one already passed that. And Mine is coming soon. I wasn't too worried about that. Perhaps because I really didn't change that much. But I guess it's more to do with the consolation from those women magazines. I recently read two articles from two women magazines (well... one women and one tabloid). The quintessential Vogue age issue was talking about Christy Turlington and how she has reinvented herself as an activist from a model and of course, with her perennial good look, one couldn't deny that you can still look good and graceful and even more powerful at 40 because of your experience and intelligence.
And then across the Atlantic, there is Hello!, which features the fab bodies at 40 with Cindy Crawford, Carla Bruni (aka Carla Sakozy), Jennifer Lopez,Nicollete Sheridan (who looks the least desperate with her killer body). It's certainly a boost to an ordinary woman like me who is aspiring to be close to one of them, even not one of them, by exercising rigorous regimen (healthy diet; sports and regular exercising)
eh...em.. But to be honest, Even though I love to look pretty and young, I love myself more. Believe me, I will try to keep up. But life is more than just looking good, I want to have fun and I want to be happy. So, I will still exercise because I love sports, but for food..... well... sometimes, occasionally, I want to feel good by savoring a delectable meal. Well, you know how Adam and Eve were kicked out of the Garden of Eden? It's because of an apple, again, food!!! And coming to age (forty), I would love to have more fun than just winning the jealous eyes of men and women. Vanity, thy name is no women, at least not me.
To me, stages of Life mean trials after trials. In the past three years, I have been through a lot: my mother's death on the day I left for London for my study, and then my divorce, two months after my mother's death, and then my return to Hong Kong for fieldwork and moved to the village. Then, my father's death and now will need to move back to London for six months, next year.
Another thing that haunts most of the people, I guess more to women, is aging. It reminds me that I am coming to another stage when I have to act like a sophisticated, cool, well-educated lady. I try, but, believe me, it's not really what I am in person. Unlike other women who are very concerned about the age thing, I have never felt this threat until I see my hair turning grey, strand after strand. It's a genetic thing. But it also tells me that my doll face would perhaps need to be more well taken of.
This is shared by my friends who were with me since high school. We were celebrating the 10th wedding anniversary of one of our great high school friends. And then during the buffet lunch, we lamented at how time flies. And how we were marching close to 40, with one already passed that. And Mine is coming soon. I wasn't too worried about that. Perhaps because I really didn't change that much. But I guess it's more to do with the consolation from those women magazines. I recently read two articles from two women magazines (well... one women and one tabloid). The quintessential Vogue age issue was talking about Christy Turlington and how she has reinvented herself as an activist from a model and of course, with her perennial good look, one couldn't deny that you can still look good and graceful and even more powerful at 40 because of your experience and intelligence.
And then across the Atlantic, there is Hello!, which features the fab bodies at 40 with Cindy Crawford, Carla Bruni (aka Carla Sakozy), Jennifer Lopez,Nicollete Sheridan (who looks the least desperate with her killer body). It's certainly a boost to an ordinary woman like me who is aspiring to be close to one of them, even not one of them, by exercising rigorous regimen (healthy diet; sports and regular exercising)
eh...em.. But to be honest, Even though I love to look pretty and young, I love myself more. Believe me, I will try to keep up. But life is more than just looking good, I want to have fun and I want to be happy. So, I will still exercise because I love sports, but for food..... well... sometimes, occasionally, I want to feel good by savoring a delectable meal. Well, you know how Adam and Eve were kicked out of the Garden of Eden? It's because of an apple, again, food!!! And coming to age (forty), I would love to have more fun than just winning the jealous eyes of men and women. Vanity, thy name is no women, at least not me.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
And God created my mum and Morton's
I always love Morton's, the mecca of steak-house in Hong Kong. (This is personal opinion only. No tomatoes and eggs please, thank you). But this is only the second time I went there. The first time was quite a while ago. I remember I only ordered the mignon. I wasn't that into food outside before my mum died. I always love my mother's cooking. She is a loving and wonderful cook. She cooks so well that I never found eating out a pleasure.It is more a social occasion for friends to catch up rather than a pure experience. And I hate going to Chinese eateries for dinner because it seems so much a disrespect and betrayal to my mother. In fact, even though I ate out on average three times a week before my mum died, I always went home and had an extra meal of her food. Her food is tasty and with lots of love. Don't want you to get goose bumps and I am not talking about sentimental crap here. I am trying to tell you how much my mum loves us by memorizing our favorites and make sure we can all have healthy and loving food. My sticky-rice dumplings were always tailor-made for me, with lots of fatty pork and dried scallops and dried mushroom. You may bet to differ judging from the ingredients of the dumplings. But this only happens once a year and the dumplings memory so etched in my mind that I couldn't bear the dragon boat festival because it reminds me so much of my mother.
Now, Morton's. What does Morton's share with my mother? My mother cooks domestic food and here at Morton's it does fine-dining cum Chicago grill cum steakhouse. Well, to start with, its food evokes in me a feeling of love. That has never happened to me on any kinds of food, except dim sum (at home, not in the restaurant, please). But its tuna tartare and especially its souffle, sent me right away to heaven, as if I really know what heaven means. It gives the pleasure that for whatever price, it's worth it. The souffle is huge and fluffy. With the cream to go with, you almost ready to die in the syrupy concentric circle and with every bite I took it sent me to vertigo. I shared with my friend and I kept digging and digging and telling him how much I felt I was in love. I never love sweets. But souffle is my soft spot. And souffle at Morton's? You can't beat it.
Food goes beyond mere palate-pleasing affair. It carries an implication of what you go for in a relationship. And how far one can go. Food means a lot to me. Not that I am a food critic. But my love of certain food shows my identity and I relate myself so much to it that I won't be able to spend my entire life with someone who carries the kind of cuisine I could never fall for. I still have that criterion of making sure that the nationality of my boyfriend or my husband should be one of my favourite cuisines. I can never imagine saying something like this to a guy, "I love you. But I don't love your food." It's such an insult to that person, and it's an insult to me. Better be safe than sorry. There is only one kind of cuisine that I can't really bring myself to try again. And only one, so guys, come hither - to the food of love.
Now, Morton's. What does Morton's share with my mother? My mother cooks domestic food and here at Morton's it does fine-dining cum Chicago grill cum steakhouse. Well, to start with, its food evokes in me a feeling of love. That has never happened to me on any kinds of food, except dim sum (at home, not in the restaurant, please). But its tuna tartare and especially its souffle, sent me right away to heaven, as if I really know what heaven means. It gives the pleasure that for whatever price, it's worth it. The souffle is huge and fluffy. With the cream to go with, you almost ready to die in the syrupy concentric circle and with every bite I took it sent me to vertigo. I shared with my friend and I kept digging and digging and telling him how much I felt I was in love. I never love sweets. But souffle is my soft spot. And souffle at Morton's? You can't beat it.
Food goes beyond mere palate-pleasing affair. It carries an implication of what you go for in a relationship. And how far one can go. Food means a lot to me. Not that I am a food critic. But my love of certain food shows my identity and I relate myself so much to it that I won't be able to spend my entire life with someone who carries the kind of cuisine I could never fall for. I still have that criterion of making sure that the nationality of my boyfriend or my husband should be one of my favourite cuisines. I can never imagine saying something like this to a guy, "I love you. But I don't love your food." It's such an insult to that person, and it's an insult to me. Better be safe than sorry. There is only one kind of cuisine that I can't really bring myself to try again. And only one, so guys, come hither - to the food of love.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
typhoon epiphany - A night without electricity and what a job it is to be a fireman!!!
I have never been scared of anything, literally, not that I can think of. Well, maybe a few: Snakes, their sights are abominable. I once saw a small one at the village while I was conducting research and I couldn't help screaming so loud that the poor snake glided away...;Sickness (I was once diagnosed with CIN II and III (Cervical Dysplasia) so I had a small LOOP operation and the worst fear at that point to me was whether I could have babies. Well, that was quite a no-brainer and I learnt from then that I should try to read more on the web to understand my own problems. Anyway, I was scared because of my prospect of pregnancy; I was scared because when I was in the freezing operation room, I was wide awake when my doctor was screaming at the nurses for not getting the equipment quickly. I was so nervous that I could virtually hear my own pounding heartbeat rate without realizing it. It was until I asked the nurse why the beeping sound went so fast that I knew it was because of my heartbeat. Oops.
Now, there was another incident happened two weeks ago that raised my heartbeat and there came to my realization of the wonder of modernization. I was out at a tea buffet when a friend of mine called me. He is a fireman and he asked me to be careful because a strong typhoon signal would be raised on that night. He suggested me not going back to the village. As usual, I paid no heed to any crisis. Well, it has been like this since God knows when. So, I just laughed and dismissed it, again. When I left the hotel, typhoon signal No. 3 had already been hoisted and then news came that a higher signal could possibly be hoisted late at night.
So, I hurried back to my home in the village. Everything was very fine and I just couldn't think of what could happen since I had experienced several typhoons in the village and I was always safe and sound.
But then at around 2am, while I was deep asleep, I heard some wee sound coming from somewhere close to me. I was woken by the flashing of some lights and the wee sound, I searched around and couldn't find anything. Then, suddenly, I spotted my landline phone was flashing and the sound was coming from there. I didn't know what to do. So, I unplugged everything. And then I found that everything came to a halt. No air-conditioner, no fan. I thought there must be something wrong with the main switch. So, I went out to check, nothing. O, no. No electricity. Well, I was back to the stone age. And it's worse than living in a cave because all the windows were shut and it was stuffy and it was hot and I was scared. I kept drinking water and it made the matter worse because I kept going to the toilet. I finally had to admit defeat. So, I texted my friend to tell him that he was right and he immediately called me to check if I was OK while he was in the fire-engine on his way to do his work. I was very touched but also worried for him. I heard banging sound and I asked him what happened. He said, "O, it's just the gargbage bin being blown up and hitting on the car. Nothing serious." NOTHING SERIOUS!! That's not what it is. It's so dangerous out there. And he was still talking to me on the phone and I was so stupid to think that with technology, we could avoid being destroyed by natural disaster. (Well, global warming has already proved me wrong....) And now, my friend would need to brave the storm to save lives while I was panting because of being in a temporary discomfortable situation.
Well, two things: I love modernization and I respect fireman. I salute them for their work. But I know I don't want to marry them because I don't want to have sleepless nights worrying about them without being able to complain because of their admirable jobs. I love my rights to complain. It's a woman's right. But with someone who is doing such a lofty mission, it dwarfs you and makes you feel bad if all you care about is your sleep.
Now, there was another incident happened two weeks ago that raised my heartbeat and there came to my realization of the wonder of modernization. I was out at a tea buffet when a friend of mine called me. He is a fireman and he asked me to be careful because a strong typhoon signal would be raised on that night. He suggested me not going back to the village. As usual, I paid no heed to any crisis. Well, it has been like this since God knows when. So, I just laughed and dismissed it, again. When I left the hotel, typhoon signal No. 3 had already been hoisted and then news came that a higher signal could possibly be hoisted late at night.
So, I hurried back to my home in the village. Everything was very fine and I just couldn't think of what could happen since I had experienced several typhoons in the village and I was always safe and sound.
But then at around 2am, while I was deep asleep, I heard some wee sound coming from somewhere close to me. I was woken by the flashing of some lights and the wee sound, I searched around and couldn't find anything. Then, suddenly, I spotted my landline phone was flashing and the sound was coming from there. I didn't know what to do. So, I unplugged everything. And then I found that everything came to a halt. No air-conditioner, no fan. I thought there must be something wrong with the main switch. So, I went out to check, nothing. O, no. No electricity. Well, I was back to the stone age. And it's worse than living in a cave because all the windows were shut and it was stuffy and it was hot and I was scared. I kept drinking water and it made the matter worse because I kept going to the toilet. I finally had to admit defeat. So, I texted my friend to tell him that he was right and he immediately called me to check if I was OK while he was in the fire-engine on his way to do his work. I was very touched but also worried for him. I heard banging sound and I asked him what happened. He said, "O, it's just the gargbage bin being blown up and hitting on the car. Nothing serious." NOTHING SERIOUS!! That's not what it is. It's so dangerous out there. And he was still talking to me on the phone and I was so stupid to think that with technology, we could avoid being destroyed by natural disaster. (Well, global warming has already proved me wrong....) And now, my friend would need to brave the storm to save lives while I was panting because of being in a temporary discomfortable situation.
Well, two things: I love modernization and I respect fireman. I salute them for their work. But I know I don't want to marry them because I don't want to have sleepless nights worrying about them without being able to complain because of their admirable jobs. I love my rights to complain. It's a woman's right. But with someone who is doing such a lofty mission, it dwarfs you and makes you feel bad if all you care about is your sleep.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
US swine flu scare - Dear Lovely Yankees!! Please be responsible, OK? A plague not made in China but manufactured authentically in America...
I got back from my US trip for a month already. I should have started writing about this as soon as I returned from the trip but I was just too scared - scared about the flu, scared about being a carrier, scared about spreading the flu to anyone should I happen to be a carrier. How could I not be scared, especially when I discovered that the country that has currently the most swine flu cases has chosen to turn a blind eye on the whole thing. Now, it has contaminated the whole world and people just have to put up with that because of perhaps for the political prowess, their economic might (which I believe is dwindling). I don't know. But I could share with you some of the anecdotes of this trip, hope whoever read this blog would find this enlightening and to those who happen to be Americans, not offensive but thought-provoking.
I went to Chicago virtually for an annual communication conference. My friend and I had an academic paper accepted so I was already planning the trip in February when the flu was still contained in Mexico and the Americans were still thinking themselves innocuous of the flu. I was hoping for a wonderful trip because of my extended stay in New York and it would be wonderful after not visiting one of my favorite shopping mecca for so long. I was really hoping.... to fill my wardrobe with wonderful clothes and shoes from Anthropologie, Gap, Banana Republic, Dolce Vita and Abercrombie and Fitch and last but not least, J.Crew.
Now, you may call me a material girl, but as soon as I realize that that swine flu has become extremely dire in America I was thinking of canceling the trip. I msned my friend and told him I would not come because of the flu. He could not believe his eyes and asked how come I was so paranoid about it. He explained to me that this would be a bit crazy to stop coming just because of the flu plus his supervisor would think I am a bit...um.... irresponsible not to come for the presentation. I didn't want to get my friend into trouble. So, I plucked up my courage and packed my suitcases and off I went, hoping that I would be lucky enough not to catch the flu. Just for your information: I packed sixty face masks and sixty packs of alchohol tissue paper for my six-day trip to make sure everything was sanitized when on the plane. And I kept praying that God would spare me from catching that.
As soon as I arrived at Newark, I could see lines after lines of visitors. How come people still go to America, I wondered. When it was my turn to pass through the immigration, I told the officer my purpose was to visit my friend to save my time and breath. (I had nightmarish experience in dealing with immigration officer in US. I still remembered they interrogated me while I was trying to pass through the immigration in LA, only when my ex (An Australian) told the guy that "I was with him" did they let me go. How humiliating!!!) So, they asked me how long I stayed and I told them I was just staying for six days because of the swine flu. I cut short my trip. The guy scowled and shocked that I did that, he shook his head and said, "It's nothing. Frankly, it's really nothing!" Well, not really, according to the New York Times, when schools in New York had to be closed and kids could run around the streets.
Anyway, I had a good time shopping and hanging out with my friends but the food was bad, crazy salty and super oily. Choices are not many and it was until I went to Arlington with my friend could I have some decent food. Can't believe that.
This is not a piece on the appalling American cuisine, nor my flu scare but rather a lament on how double-standard the Americans are. They pay no heed on the flu when their homeland has become the incubus of viral plague and pointed their fingers at the Mexicans when the flu broke out there. TVs and newspapers in Chicago were all about barbecues and their memorial celebration instead of warning people about the flu. How amazing when a flu was spreading so quickly could be totally unnoticed by the Americans themselves. They could have died without realizing the reason of their death.
Sometimes, you can't blame people outside America resenting Americans, for the sheer fact that when I arrived in Hong Kong and the territory was trying at all cost to prevent an outbreak by measuring passengers' temperature, one of them started screaming at the airport staff, calling Hong Kong "insane" by taking measures to curb the flu. I believe anyone who has some senses would take extra precaution after the SARS scare. I guess the insensitive and haughty attitude of the Americans could best explain why they are not really welcome by people um...I guess it's no good when one is too in love with oneself.
I went to Chicago virtually for an annual communication conference. My friend and I had an academic paper accepted so I was already planning the trip in February when the flu was still contained in Mexico and the Americans were still thinking themselves innocuous of the flu. I was hoping for a wonderful trip because of my extended stay in New York and it would be wonderful after not visiting one of my favorite shopping mecca for so long. I was really hoping.... to fill my wardrobe with wonderful clothes and shoes from Anthropologie, Gap, Banana Republic, Dolce Vita and Abercrombie and Fitch and last but not least, J.Crew.
Now, you may call me a material girl, but as soon as I realize that that swine flu has become extremely dire in America I was thinking of canceling the trip. I msned my friend and told him I would not come because of the flu. He could not believe his eyes and asked how come I was so paranoid about it. He explained to me that this would be a bit crazy to stop coming just because of the flu plus his supervisor would think I am a bit...um.... irresponsible not to come for the presentation. I didn't want to get my friend into trouble. So, I plucked up my courage and packed my suitcases and off I went, hoping that I would be lucky enough not to catch the flu. Just for your information: I packed sixty face masks and sixty packs of alchohol tissue paper for my six-day trip to make sure everything was sanitized when on the plane. And I kept praying that God would spare me from catching that.
As soon as I arrived at Newark, I could see lines after lines of visitors. How come people still go to America, I wondered. When it was my turn to pass through the immigration, I told the officer my purpose was to visit my friend to save my time and breath. (I had nightmarish experience in dealing with immigration officer in US. I still remembered they interrogated me while I was trying to pass through the immigration in LA, only when my ex (An Australian) told the guy that "I was with him" did they let me go. How humiliating!!!) So, they asked me how long I stayed and I told them I was just staying for six days because of the swine flu. I cut short my trip. The guy scowled and shocked that I did that, he shook his head and said, "It's nothing. Frankly, it's really nothing!" Well, not really, according to the New York Times, when schools in New York had to be closed and kids could run around the streets.
Anyway, I had a good time shopping and hanging out with my friends but the food was bad, crazy salty and super oily. Choices are not many and it was until I went to Arlington with my friend could I have some decent food. Can't believe that.
This is not a piece on the appalling American cuisine, nor my flu scare but rather a lament on how double-standard the Americans are. They pay no heed on the flu when their homeland has become the incubus of viral plague and pointed their fingers at the Mexicans when the flu broke out there. TVs and newspapers in Chicago were all about barbecues and their memorial celebration instead of warning people about the flu. How amazing when a flu was spreading so quickly could be totally unnoticed by the Americans themselves. They could have died without realizing the reason of their death.
Sometimes, you can't blame people outside America resenting Americans, for the sheer fact that when I arrived in Hong Kong and the territory was trying at all cost to prevent an outbreak by measuring passengers' temperature, one of them started screaming at the airport staff, calling Hong Kong "insane" by taking measures to curb the flu. I believe anyone who has some senses would take extra precaution after the SARS scare. I guess the insensitive and haughty attitude of the Americans could best explain why they are not really welcome by people um...I guess it's no good when one is too in love with oneself.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Trip to Thailand Part 2 - Rendezvous with red-shirters!! Sawadee Ka! Man Ben Kong Thai!! Ben Kong Hong Kong!! Lemme have my chips!! Kapunka!
OK!! What does the red-shirters have to do with the chips? And why are chips so important? And why am I making a big fuss out of chips? It's a long story. So, I will try to make the long story short:
Chips are our past time. It's a girly past time. Especially when we want to return to our puberty time and enjoy those silly conversations about classmates (now ex-classmates or colleagues), school (now work), boys (now husbands or boyfriends). We have planned our whole trip around chips because 1) Thailand has perhaps the most variety of chips 2) We can consume all different kinds of chips and be nostalgic about the good old days.
Unfortunately, there is something in my body that stops me from enjoying chips to their fullest. If I eat too much, I will have fever. I am not kidding you. I only found that out when I became a full-grown adult. (By which I mean when I was 25) haha! This was also the time when I realized that I couldn't drink alcohol (I had alcohol poisoning once when I studied in London. And the doc (bear in mind that he is a caucasian) had to tell me that I should refrain from any alcoholic drinks.
Anyway, I still lingered to the dreams of enjoying one or two pieces of chips even to see my friends having such a wonderful time is good enough for me (How nice I am...) So, we have planned to go to the supermarket on Sunday for Sunday night will be our last night in Bangkok.
We went different ways to do our last shopping and agreed to meet at the food court at Parragon so that we could invade the gigantic food mall there. We ate our lunch and got ourselves ready to march to the snacks counter when suddenly we were stopped by the security guard at the entrance.
We were all shocked and I asked the security guard why we couldn't get in. She just said "EMERGENCY". And then I asked, "What kind of emergency to stop us from shopping and what's going on?" She then whispered into her supervisor's ears and afterwards with a nod from him, she told me "MOB! MOB outside". And we were sure that it must be the red-shirters. Luckily, we had learnt the shortcut so we left quickly and returned to our hotel in no time.
By then, I saw my cell had several missed calls. Four from my two brothers. Two text messages from my colleagues and friends. And I called them up to tell them we were very safe. Mortified, my brothers refused to believe me and thought I lied to them. I had to tell them this is not a voice mail to calm them down. Only when I returned to Hong Kong did I realize that what's shown on TV terrified the Hong Kong people. How powerful media can be!!
In fact, the only scary episode of the whole drama was that we saw the tank..... from our hotel. And apart from that, we were really safe. Shops and supermarkets were closed to avoid looting. But restaurants were still open and that's why we could enjoy C'est Bon (the French restaurant chain). Since there were no shops open, we were so desperate that we had to kill time at Intercontinental's ripping-off-tourists shop.
The street was not so dead quiet. There were still quite a few hawkers selling jewels and dodgy-looking hotpants. Still clinging on the dreams of a chips party, my friends asked one another if there were any 7/11s around Intercontinental. I couldn't believe my ears. Amidst the possible danger of riots, they were still thinking about...chips. How amazing! Other friends were already looking at those dodgy-looking pants and raved about how nicely they look on their butts and how thrilled their husbands would be when they saw them wearing those pants (One is a black one with a lot of cherries on as far as I could recall). I kept rolling my eyes as I guess cherries would expand to appalling shapes once they are on a human butt.... But... beauty on the eyes of a beholder. So, I shut my mouth.
We did have a great party sans chips. We did talk a lot about our lives together and we did ride the waves, for better or worse. Kapunka, Bangkok.
Chips are our past time. It's a girly past time. Especially when we want to return to our puberty time and enjoy those silly conversations about classmates (now ex-classmates or colleagues), school (now work), boys (now husbands or boyfriends). We have planned our whole trip around chips because 1) Thailand has perhaps the most variety of chips 2) We can consume all different kinds of chips and be nostalgic about the good old days.
Unfortunately, there is something in my body that stops me from enjoying chips to their fullest. If I eat too much, I will have fever. I am not kidding you. I only found that out when I became a full-grown adult. (By which I mean when I was 25) haha! This was also the time when I realized that I couldn't drink alcohol (I had alcohol poisoning once when I studied in London. And the doc (bear in mind that he is a caucasian) had to tell me that I should refrain from any alcoholic drinks.
Anyway, I still lingered to the dreams of enjoying one or two pieces of chips even to see my friends having such a wonderful time is good enough for me (How nice I am...) So, we have planned to go to the supermarket on Sunday for Sunday night will be our last night in Bangkok.
We went different ways to do our last shopping and agreed to meet at the food court at Parragon so that we could invade the gigantic food mall there. We ate our lunch and got ourselves ready to march to the snacks counter when suddenly we were stopped by the security guard at the entrance.
We were all shocked and I asked the security guard why we couldn't get in. She just said "EMERGENCY". And then I asked, "What kind of emergency to stop us from shopping and what's going on?" She then whispered into her supervisor's ears and afterwards with a nod from him, she told me "MOB! MOB outside". And we were sure that it must be the red-shirters. Luckily, we had learnt the shortcut so we left quickly and returned to our hotel in no time.
By then, I saw my cell had several missed calls. Four from my two brothers. Two text messages from my colleagues and friends. And I called them up to tell them we were very safe. Mortified, my brothers refused to believe me and thought I lied to them. I had to tell them this is not a voice mail to calm them down. Only when I returned to Hong Kong did I realize that what's shown on TV terrified the Hong Kong people. How powerful media can be!!
In fact, the only scary episode of the whole drama was that we saw the tank..... from our hotel. And apart from that, we were really safe. Shops and supermarkets were closed to avoid looting. But restaurants were still open and that's why we could enjoy C'est Bon (the French restaurant chain). Since there were no shops open, we were so desperate that we had to kill time at Intercontinental's ripping-off-tourists shop.
The street was not so dead quiet. There were still quite a few hawkers selling jewels and dodgy-looking hotpants. Still clinging on the dreams of a chips party, my friends asked one another if there were any 7/11s around Intercontinental. I couldn't believe my ears. Amidst the possible danger of riots, they were still thinking about...chips. How amazing! Other friends were already looking at those dodgy-looking pants and raved about how nicely they look on their butts and how thrilled their husbands would be when they saw them wearing those pants (One is a black one with a lot of cherries on as far as I could recall). I kept rolling my eyes as I guess cherries would expand to appalling shapes once they are on a human butt.... But... beauty on the eyes of a beholder. So, I shut my mouth.
We did have a great party sans chips. We did talk a lot about our lives together and we did ride the waves, for better or worse. Kapunka, Bangkok.
Tsoi Yuen Village - sacrifice for the greater good? To hell with the greater good!
I was supposed to continue talking about the red-shirters debacle on my Part II Trip to Thailand. But as there are something I believe it's more urgent to address, I skip my trifle and here discuss a more dire issue before I go back to my whining and dining (ahem. I don't drink while I dine. But I whine whenever I have time, so...)
I am now a researcher working on two projects: one is my thesis on the Hong Kong indigenous women. The other project I am working on is the railway dispute between the government and the Tsoi Yuen village. I happen to have the privilege working on this project because the village was just a doorstep away. Because of my research, I have moved from my home in the urban area to the village close to Tsoi yuen a year ago and I heard the whole dispute from the villagers in my village. Out of curiosity and a fervent encouragement by my supervisor, I began to work on this project as a paper.
I wasn't very familiar with the village. To be honest, I am not familiar with the rural part of Hong Kong at all. People living in the city thought they are self-sufficient and thus, very often, do not find the need to go to the countryside. If they do, it's more because of leisure. For me, I did the same. Why bother to go to the countryside if I can find everything in the city.
Working on the ethnographic research about the village and the railway dispute teaches me what self-sufficiency really means. It means you grow your own food and you eat your own food. During the economic downturn, if you can't sell your vegetables, you eat them. You eat your rice. You mix your own honey with water and the drink is absolutely refreshing. And this is such a novel experience to an urbanite like me.
However, the government has planned to build a new rail connecting Hong Kong, Shenzhen and Guangzhou that will shorten the time of commute to one hour.
I have no objection whatsover to the building of a railway. After all, I enjoy traveling by train and it's always more fun to travel by land than by air.
But, if this is built on somebody's soil and homes will be wrecked and families be destroyed. What should we do?
Well, I guess a responsible and considerate government will first look into the case and see how it could help to rebuild the homes of the affected. In such a way that villagers could still maintain their own ways of living, if the choice of the villagers' invaluable land becomes inevitable. In short, the government would uphold quality living for their people as top priority and minimize the disturbance done to the villagers.
Usually, before undertaking this sort of huge project, a responsible, civilized and considerate will widely consult the public, and then conduct an environmental assessment report, before discussing and negotiating with the affected parties.
Unfortunately, our government, in order to appease the Chinese government,jumps the queue. That's to say, they copy down and conduct spot check of each household in the village before even the local district body knows.
The upshot: I have been witnessing hubbubs and confusion and crying in the village. I could hear laments, roars of frustration. I could see tears weltering in the eyes of grannies. I could hear sobbing about the loss of their farm. I have heard loads and loads of stories about their 50 years tying to the soil.
I heard one story from Tang Gun tai's mother, who is 70 something. I bumped into her one time near the market and we took the minibus together. I asked how she was doing. Looking frightful, she was shaking when she told me how scared she was if she had to leave the village. "I spent 50 years with the soil of Tsoi Yuen village. I built my own house, my own farm. Now, I spend my time at my home growing and selling my own vegetables. I don't know what I can do if I remove my house. I don't want to live in the public housing estate. This is my entire life!!. Where else can I go? I know no one. I have my kids of course. But the soil is my life. It has always been my entire life! I am very scared!!" Her eyes were red and full of tears.
As a researcher, I have to stay as objective and independent as possible. But at the same time, I can't help feeling the dread, the unwillingness, the frustration, the anger of those people. It moves me. Despite the differences among the villagers. Despite the different concerns between the so called "indigenous" and
"non-indigenous" villagers, I feel the same concern, the same bewilderment among them. Why take my home? Why don't you care that this is my home? Does it matter whether I am not the "indigenous" or "non-indigenous" when this has been my home since God knows when?
Well, I guess there is still a long road for Hong Kong to pride herself a modernized and civilized society if she could just ignore and marginalize those who are not in power..... Power to the people, by the people? It's now up to the Legislative council to prove itself it's not a rubber stamp.
I am now a researcher working on two projects: one is my thesis on the Hong Kong indigenous women. The other project I am working on is the railway dispute between the government and the Tsoi Yuen village. I happen to have the privilege working on this project because the village was just a doorstep away. Because of my research, I have moved from my home in the urban area to the village close to Tsoi yuen a year ago and I heard the whole dispute from the villagers in my village. Out of curiosity and a fervent encouragement by my supervisor, I began to work on this project as a paper.
I wasn't very familiar with the village. To be honest, I am not familiar with the rural part of Hong Kong at all. People living in the city thought they are self-sufficient and thus, very often, do not find the need to go to the countryside. If they do, it's more because of leisure. For me, I did the same. Why bother to go to the countryside if I can find everything in the city.
Working on the ethnographic research about the village and the railway dispute teaches me what self-sufficiency really means. It means you grow your own food and you eat your own food. During the economic downturn, if you can't sell your vegetables, you eat them. You eat your rice. You mix your own honey with water and the drink is absolutely refreshing. And this is such a novel experience to an urbanite like me.
However, the government has planned to build a new rail connecting Hong Kong, Shenzhen and Guangzhou that will shorten the time of commute to one hour.
I have no objection whatsover to the building of a railway. After all, I enjoy traveling by train and it's always more fun to travel by land than by air.
But, if this is built on somebody's soil and homes will be wrecked and families be destroyed. What should we do?
Well, I guess a responsible and considerate government will first look into the case and see how it could help to rebuild the homes of the affected. In such a way that villagers could still maintain their own ways of living, if the choice of the villagers' invaluable land becomes inevitable. In short, the government would uphold quality living for their people as top priority and minimize the disturbance done to the villagers.
Usually, before undertaking this sort of huge project, a responsible, civilized and considerate will widely consult the public, and then conduct an environmental assessment report, before discussing and negotiating with the affected parties.
Unfortunately, our government, in order to appease the Chinese government,jumps the queue. That's to say, they copy down and conduct spot check of each household in the village before even the local district body knows.
The upshot: I have been witnessing hubbubs and confusion and crying in the village. I could hear laments, roars of frustration. I could see tears weltering in the eyes of grannies. I could hear sobbing about the loss of their farm. I have heard loads and loads of stories about their 50 years tying to the soil.
I heard one story from Tang Gun tai's mother, who is 70 something. I bumped into her one time near the market and we took the minibus together. I asked how she was doing. Looking frightful, she was shaking when she told me how scared she was if she had to leave the village. "I spent 50 years with the soil of Tsoi Yuen village. I built my own house, my own farm. Now, I spend my time at my home growing and selling my own vegetables. I don't know what I can do if I remove my house. I don't want to live in the public housing estate. This is my entire life!!. Where else can I go? I know no one. I have my kids of course. But the soil is my life. It has always been my entire life! I am very scared!!" Her eyes were red and full of tears.
As a researcher, I have to stay as objective and independent as possible. But at the same time, I can't help feeling the dread, the unwillingness, the frustration, the anger of those people. It moves me. Despite the differences among the villagers. Despite the different concerns between the so called "indigenous" and
"non-indigenous" villagers, I feel the same concern, the same bewilderment among them. Why take my home? Why don't you care that this is my home? Does it matter whether I am not the "indigenous" or "non-indigenous" when this has been my home since God knows when?
Well, I guess there is still a long road for Hong Kong to pride herself a modernized and civilized society if she could just ignore and marginalize those who are not in power..... Power to the people, by the people? It's now up to the Legislative council to prove itself it's not a rubber stamp.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Trip to Thailand - Part 1- Nutty cab driver - Sawadee Ka ! Ma Pood Thai! Leave me alone!!
How wonderful when you realized that at the age of 40 (well, almost), you still have a gang of buddies who are ready to have some juvenile fun with you. Even though sprout after sprout of grey hair is now visible on your scalp and almost all of your friends are happily married, even with kids. Family is a big concern when you are planning a big 4 day trip with your uni buddies. And every 10 years, we have this, and it's such a big deal to all of us. As I wrote on my facebook, a triumph of sisterhood.
This time, I still live up to my name of rabble-rouser. My main role is to provide entertainment and laughter for my folks. I am never a good organizer of a trip so I leave it to my friends to deal with it. Anyway, we had loads of fun. We went back to where we belong: Eat,shop and be merry. Lots of horrendous laughter every five to ten minutes (I think in some ways it's pretty much what happened to girls from Catholic girls school- totally unrestrained when it comes to expresing their joy). I squeeze time to enjoy the sun by the pool while my dear friends cook their way out and smell with chilly and curry from buttering up their culinary skills in a Thai cooking school.
The first two days were rather peaceful even though my brothers were on the verge of dying when they heard that I would be going to Bangkok. "I can't believe you did that to us. Don't you know there are those red-shirters. Why are you that carefree? I want to die." I still can't understand why men are prone to heart attack. Or perhaps that only happens to those men around me. Sorry!
We couldn't sense how serious the situation was because at the heart of Bangkok, it was business as usual. We only knew that the red-shirters were going nuts and wrecking the ASEAN conference in Pattaya. Only in Pattaya. So, we kept laughing like crazy, shopping till we dropped, massaging here and there and most importantly eating whereever and whenever we could.
Not quite carefree... indeed the night before the red-shirters returned, we were already in trouble - with taxi-driver. We had dinner at China town and afterwards we split into two groups and got on taxis. As usual, I began with a seemingly proficient "Sawadee ka" and then before they started talking to me in a language that I barely understood, I flaunted the hotel address (in Thai of course) to direct the driver to the hotel, the next thing was that he spoke to me in Thai and squinted his eyes. Right away, I suspected that he probably didn't know where to go. He kept talking to me in Thai, with me telling him "Ma Pood Thai" which means "I don't speak Thai." Perhaps my thai friend taught me the wrong phrase. Because the more I told him "Ma pood Thai", the more Thai he spoke. I was so scared. And then while he kept speaking to me, he missed a turn and we went all the way to a one way road. We almost wanted to kill ourselves. He kept turning round and round. My friends were feeling sorry for him because apparently he didn't know where to go. In fact, he was freaking out. I, the merciless one, was in full rage and at the end, I made my frustration verbally known to my friends. "I am really pissed. You know." Once I said that, they stopped talking and I bellowed at the driver, "STOOOOP!!!". He was so scared that he dropped us off at the middle of the road and cars just screeched by. We rushed across the road and quickly walked 5 minutes down to Parragon.
We took another cab at Parragon. This time, we wanted to make sure the cab driver understood English, and didn't take me as one of them. So, I switched to English and he perfectly understood and he spoke perfect English. As soon as we fastened our seatbelt and thinking of the jacuzzi in our rooms,he, the sneaky driver, took us to a big detour. My friends and I, who just did the round and round the rosie, quickly realized that was wrong again. But the driver just hummed song and kept saying, "solly.Oh solly!! I am solly!!" Now we know he is cheating. I went so berserk that anything came out from my mouth was God knows what as vulgar as possible in English and I screamed the hell out of him. I told him i would take him to the police station (and coincidentally, a police car was just in front of us). And my friends at the back were screaming"NO BULLSHIT!! GET YOUR DAMN CAR TO OUR HOTEL!!" And I kept saying the f--- word in Cantonese with a mix of the English f---,without realizing that i was doing it.( I was notified by my friend that I was the epitome of a psychopath). Probably that scared the driver, he immediately said, "OK!OK! Free meter." And at the end, I stormed out of the car, without paying a penny, of course.
Well, "Never underestimate the power of a woman" but better, 'Never underestimate the power of rage to a woman'.
This time, I still live up to my name of rabble-rouser. My main role is to provide entertainment and laughter for my folks. I am never a good organizer of a trip so I leave it to my friends to deal with it. Anyway, we had loads of fun. We went back to where we belong: Eat,shop and be merry. Lots of horrendous laughter every five to ten minutes (I think in some ways it's pretty much what happened to girls from Catholic girls school- totally unrestrained when it comes to expresing their joy). I squeeze time to enjoy the sun by the pool while my dear friends cook their way out and smell with chilly and curry from buttering up their culinary skills in a Thai cooking school.
The first two days were rather peaceful even though my brothers were on the verge of dying when they heard that I would be going to Bangkok. "I can't believe you did that to us. Don't you know there are those red-shirters. Why are you that carefree? I want to die." I still can't understand why men are prone to heart attack. Or perhaps that only happens to those men around me. Sorry!
We couldn't sense how serious the situation was because at the heart of Bangkok, it was business as usual. We only knew that the red-shirters were going nuts and wrecking the ASEAN conference in Pattaya. Only in Pattaya. So, we kept laughing like crazy, shopping till we dropped, massaging here and there and most importantly eating whereever and whenever we could.
Not quite carefree... indeed the night before the red-shirters returned, we were already in trouble - with taxi-driver. We had dinner at China town and afterwards we split into two groups and got on taxis. As usual, I began with a seemingly proficient "Sawadee ka" and then before they started talking to me in a language that I barely understood, I flaunted the hotel address (in Thai of course) to direct the driver to the hotel, the next thing was that he spoke to me in Thai and squinted his eyes. Right away, I suspected that he probably didn't know where to go. He kept talking to me in Thai, with me telling him "Ma Pood Thai" which means "I don't speak Thai." Perhaps my thai friend taught me the wrong phrase. Because the more I told him "Ma pood Thai", the more Thai he spoke. I was so scared. And then while he kept speaking to me, he missed a turn and we went all the way to a one way road. We almost wanted to kill ourselves. He kept turning round and round. My friends were feeling sorry for him because apparently he didn't know where to go. In fact, he was freaking out. I, the merciless one, was in full rage and at the end, I made my frustration verbally known to my friends. "I am really pissed. You know." Once I said that, they stopped talking and I bellowed at the driver, "STOOOOP!!!". He was so scared that he dropped us off at the middle of the road and cars just screeched by. We rushed across the road and quickly walked 5 minutes down to Parragon.
We took another cab at Parragon. This time, we wanted to make sure the cab driver understood English, and didn't take me as one of them. So, I switched to English and he perfectly understood and he spoke perfect English. As soon as we fastened our seatbelt and thinking of the jacuzzi in our rooms,he, the sneaky driver, took us to a big detour. My friends and I, who just did the round and round the rosie, quickly realized that was wrong again. But the driver just hummed song and kept saying, "solly.Oh solly!! I am solly!!" Now we know he is cheating. I went so berserk that anything came out from my mouth was God knows what as vulgar as possible in English and I screamed the hell out of him. I told him i would take him to the police station (and coincidentally, a police car was just in front of us). And my friends at the back were screaming"NO BULLSHIT!! GET YOUR DAMN CAR TO OUR HOTEL!!" And I kept saying the f--- word in Cantonese with a mix of the English f---,without realizing that i was doing it.( I was notified by my friend that I was the epitome of a psychopath). Probably that scared the driver, he immediately said, "OK!OK! Free meter." And at the end, I stormed out of the car, without paying a penny, of course.
Well, "Never underestimate the power of a woman" but better, 'Never underestimate the power of rage to a woman'.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
I am really BACK!! "You are such a writing girl. But too rational!!" "Yes, I am a rational writing girl"
Helloooo,
I got a facebook message from my first love, who hasn't been in touch with me for 15 something years. It was like this: I checked my gmail account, (in fact, every single account for like,... every two hours...) and there popped up a name that sounded too unfamiliar. Isn't it pathetic to say that? But that was how I felt. I was wondering who the hell was that guy shooting me a message on facebook and I would swear not let him be my friend. And then, you know from gmail, that you can see the first line... and it goes like "Its(sic) nearly 20 years, got a feeling that I could find you in FB.Been hesitating to send this message..............
Throughout all these years , always want to say "sorry" to you."
Now, after I received his facebook message, a few things came to my mind (nothing romantic,no butterflies in my stomach, OK? I have no romantic feelings whatsoever. He is no longer my cup of tea! Just to set the record straight!!):
1) Facebook is really powerful!
2) Facebook is really damn powerful!!
3) Facebook is so damn powerful that it scares me!!
Of course, one of the reasons I joined facebook has nothing to do with its power. To be honest, I was too dumb to even realize why on earth people need this thing when we have emails and msn already. Anyway, my flatmates Kate and Janit wanted to keep in touch with me in the facebookish way after I left for fieldwork and so I nodded and joined and got addicted and pretty much now a facebook junkie checking it like every one or two hours. At first, I found the idea quite repulsive as I would need to update my stuff and upload my photos on my page. But then, I managed to find some of my long lost friends in the college who are now miles away in their hometown and then some of my ex-colleagues and I began to think that this is not such a bad idea to be able to share your updates without paying the phonebills calling tonnes of people. How smart!!
And then, along came my ex, who shared how he felt about me and what he has suffered (and achieved) of course for the past, I guess, if I remember correctly, 15 years (we broke up when I was 24 and we went out for 6 years). And then we exchanged 22 messages of which they are all long and intense (not romantic at all, please don't think otherwise.) emails of life and I turned into Aunt Agony and finally, I got a compliment (at least that's how I take it). "You are really a writing girl! But too rational!" And I replied: "Yes, I am really a writing girl. I am really a rational writing girl! That's what keeps me afloat." Yes, he is right. I am a writing girl. But I am not sure whether that floating part from my response is true. I guess I am floating, at least, for the moment.
Well, how can I not love facebook! Anything can happen in this virtual world. I guess something bizarre may happen again in no time. Facebook, I love you. And I am a writing girl; and you are one of my muses.
I got a facebook message from my first love, who hasn't been in touch with me for 15 something years. It was like this: I checked my gmail account, (in fact, every single account for like,... every two hours...) and there popped up a name that sounded too unfamiliar. Isn't it pathetic to say that? But that was how I felt. I was wondering who the hell was that guy shooting me a message on facebook and I would swear not let him be my friend. And then, you know from gmail, that you can see the first line... and it goes like "Its(sic) nearly 20 years, got a feeling that I could find you in FB.Been hesitating to send this message..............
Throughout all these years , always want to say "sorry" to you."
Now, after I received his facebook message, a few things came to my mind (nothing romantic,no butterflies in my stomach, OK? I have no romantic feelings whatsoever. He is no longer my cup of tea! Just to set the record straight!!):
1) Facebook is really powerful!
2) Facebook is really damn powerful!!
3) Facebook is so damn powerful that it scares me!!
Of course, one of the reasons I joined facebook has nothing to do with its power. To be honest, I was too dumb to even realize why on earth people need this thing when we have emails and msn already. Anyway, my flatmates Kate and Janit wanted to keep in touch with me in the facebookish way after I left for fieldwork and so I nodded and joined and got addicted and pretty much now a facebook junkie checking it like every one or two hours. At first, I found the idea quite repulsive as I would need to update my stuff and upload my photos on my page. But then, I managed to find some of my long lost friends in the college who are now miles away in their hometown and then some of my ex-colleagues and I began to think that this is not such a bad idea to be able to share your updates without paying the phonebills calling tonnes of people. How smart!!
And then, along came my ex, who shared how he felt about me and what he has suffered (and achieved) of course for the past, I guess, if I remember correctly, 15 years (we broke up when I was 24 and we went out for 6 years). And then we exchanged 22 messages of which they are all long and intense (not romantic at all, please don't think otherwise.) emails of life and I turned into Aunt Agony and finally, I got a compliment (at least that's how I take it). "You are really a writing girl! But too rational!" And I replied: "Yes, I am really a writing girl. I am really a rational writing girl! That's what keeps me afloat." Yes, he is right. I am a writing girl. But I am not sure whether that floating part from my response is true. I guess I am floating, at least, for the moment.
Well, how can I not love facebook! Anything can happen in this virtual world. I guess something bizarre may happen again in no time. Facebook, I love you. And I am a writing girl; and you are one of my muses.
Why I have disappeared for such a long time? um....
Ok, There is a list of reasons why I have disappeared from my blog for such a ruddy long time:
-Lazy, lazy and lazy!!
-Too much work!! Trust me!! It's not an oxymoron from what I just said. My work at school and my research at another school drove me into a crazy woman constantly dreaming about my bed with my teddy bear bedsheet (my late mother bought it for me before she died as she wanted to think of me as still her little daughter....a bit perverse and the cause of my peter pan syndrome... )Perennially deprived of sleep. I need to be lazy because I need to escape from the cruel reality of neverending work. I need a break.... from everything. The first thing I could give myself a break is to... stop writing my blog.
-Too much traveling in the past few months - closely related to the above two. Just finished my trip to Thailand (for fun) and Beijing (for work) and now coming up - with the trip to the States (for work, again!!). I love traveling but constant traveling means that I would need to give something up and then... well... my blog writing stops.
-Too many excuses.....
-All of the above
I think it's time that I should start coming back to my blog because 1) I have got tonnes of things to write; 2) I have to use this to reorganize my thoughts for my research 3) all of the above.
Let the writing begin, again!!
Good night and see you later!!!
-Lazy, lazy and lazy!!
-Too much work!! Trust me!! It's not an oxymoron from what I just said. My work at school and my research at another school drove me into a crazy woman constantly dreaming about my bed with my teddy bear bedsheet (my late mother bought it for me before she died as she wanted to think of me as still her little daughter....a bit perverse and the cause of my peter pan syndrome... )Perennially deprived of sleep. I need to be lazy because I need to escape from the cruel reality of neverending work. I need a break.... from everything. The first thing I could give myself a break is to... stop writing my blog.
-Too much traveling in the past few months - closely related to the above two. Just finished my trip to Thailand (for fun) and Beijing (for work) and now coming up - with the trip to the States (for work, again!!). I love traveling but constant traveling means that I would need to give something up and then... well... my blog writing stops.
-Too many excuses.....
-All of the above
I think it's time that I should start coming back to my blog because 1) I have got tonnes of things to write; 2) I have to use this to reorganize my thoughts for my research 3) all of the above.
Let the writing begin, again!!
Good night and see you later!!!
Monday, November 17, 2008
A letter to our dear Ah Bian - repent and you do belong in jail
Dear Ah Bian,
I am writing to you, as someone who is your estranged relative, someone who shares the same history, long long time ago, back when your people and my people were still under the leadership of our dear leader and national father Sun Yat-sen, to ask you to repent, to recognize your wrongdoings and stop behaving like a congenital jerk and a thick-skinned spoiled brat. Please, as the ex-president of the renegade province, act with grace and manner, even though you are now in jail. You have to admit that you do belong in jail.
Sometimes I wonder whether Asia should have democracy. It's like Asians will loose control once they have freedom. Look at you, and our Southeast Asian neighbor -Philippines. Look at Estrada and how he comes to the helm of leadership because of his impersonation as a hero. You too, as a figure of outright audacity and your guts to stand up against China, you have won respect and adoration among your populace. People call you dearly as "Ah Bian". Yet,you, like Estrada, your counterpart, who are also chosen by his own people, have abused power and involved in lots of disgraceful shenanigans. And still, you think you are entitled to do so. You are still shameless enough to deny everything and now even threaten your people with hunger strike and try to bring further turmoil to Taiwan, which has been wrecked completely by you. How can you sleep in the middle of the night? How can your family stand in front of the people who have been embezzled and betrayed by you? Haven't you no shame?
Of course, I understand avarice is part of human nature. And of course, stupidity and pride are also the perpetrators of human tragedies. Look at the Bush administration and now the Americans have shot themselves enough in their feet that they finally come to their senses . Still, I believe what makes human beings so special is that we have a conscience to tell us what we should do and shouldn't do. Dear ah bian, there must be something good in you if you can still stand up and admit your faults. Taiwanese would still remember they have a president, who, even though committed mistakes, is brave enough to stand in front of all people, with grace and air, to admit his faults and ask for forgiveness. Think about George Washington.
Sadly, I guess you have ever heard of the story about Washington when you were young, haven't you?
Your dear relative
Isabella in Hong Kong
I am writing to you, as someone who is your estranged relative, someone who shares the same history, long long time ago, back when your people and my people were still under the leadership of our dear leader and national father Sun Yat-sen, to ask you to repent, to recognize your wrongdoings and stop behaving like a congenital jerk and a thick-skinned spoiled brat. Please, as the ex-president of the renegade province, act with grace and manner, even though you are now in jail. You have to admit that you do belong in jail.
Sometimes I wonder whether Asia should have democracy. It's like Asians will loose control once they have freedom. Look at you, and our Southeast Asian neighbor -Philippines. Look at Estrada and how he comes to the helm of leadership because of his impersonation as a hero. You too, as a figure of outright audacity and your guts to stand up against China, you have won respect and adoration among your populace. People call you dearly as "Ah Bian". Yet,you, like Estrada, your counterpart, who are also chosen by his own people, have abused power and involved in lots of disgraceful shenanigans. And still, you think you are entitled to do so. You are still shameless enough to deny everything and now even threaten your people with hunger strike and try to bring further turmoil to Taiwan, which has been wrecked completely by you. How can you sleep in the middle of the night? How can your family stand in front of the people who have been embezzled and betrayed by you? Haven't you no shame?
Of course, I understand avarice is part of human nature. And of course, stupidity and pride are also the perpetrators of human tragedies. Look at the Bush administration and now the Americans have shot themselves enough in their feet that they finally come to their senses . Still, I believe what makes human beings so special is that we have a conscience to tell us what we should do and shouldn't do. Dear ah bian, there must be something good in you if you can still stand up and admit your faults. Taiwanese would still remember they have a president, who, even though committed mistakes, is brave enough to stand in front of all people, with grace and air, to admit his faults and ask for forgiveness. Think about George Washington.
Sadly, I guess you have ever heard of the story about Washington when you were young, haven't you?
Your dear relative
Isabella in Hong Kong
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Can Obama live up to the hope of the world? Let's keep our fingers crossed!
I have not been writing my new blog for a month. This has nothing to do with my tenaciousness. I love writing, always do. It's just that I have other more important writings to deal with à la moment: compiling and recompiling and writing and rewriting my fieldnotes. At this stage, I am quite a mess as I am still at the stage of interviewing and reinterviewing and having interviews that need to be understood and analyzed and somehow I am afraid that I have overanalyzed some of the phenoms in my research process. Anyone who is working, or has worked on their research will know what I mean: that I am in a stage of hysteria and utter desperation. But the good news is that at least I have some stuff: two notebooks filled with notes and data and information. I think I am safe. At least that's what I hope.
That leaves me no room to notice anything happened around me for the past month, not even my investment. I have finally decided to leave it in God's hand and sure God spares me. My financial planner has transferred all my money into the monetary funds and by the end of the mandatory period, I will still have gained HKD 7000. It sounds very pathetic to me but it's better than haemorraging and losing all my money in the end. At least I can now sleep in peace.
Speaking of which, it seems like the world is now betting their hopes on Barack Obama and he is now our Savior, the reincarnation of Jesus the Messiah. He who we know little (I bet lots of people would differ because of his kiss-and-tell autobiographies and his famous dancing episode with Ellen deGeneres) will be shouldering, at least in the coming four years, the responsibility of revamping a collapsing/collapsed economic system and re-establishing a sound and healthy financial mechanism; dealing with the mess left by our dear ex-president George W. Bush on Iraq; recovering from the tarnished international reputation as an imbecile, inconsiderate and irrational aggressor; coming to terms with the world community on the global warming issue, and last but not least, saving face from the world scorn over Americans as a stupid and thoughtless group of people who will let someone as thick and selfish as Bush and Cheney to be elected, time and again. What daunting tasks Obama is facing!!
Changes are good, but not always. I remember when I was still working for an international magazine in 2000, I traveled to China and I bumped into a pair of Americans. Naturally, as the election was just around the corner, I asked them who they would pick as president, Bush or Gore, and they said, "Certainly Bush!! It's so boring to have the Democrats for eight consecutive years. We need a change!" Well, look what they have done to themselves. The Americans should have asked for tips from the fashion gurus: What you wear can change your life. What you choose, buddy, can change your entire dear life! Look what Bush the wrecker has managed to do to the world and he is an absolute disaster. I cannot say Obama will be a good change. But at least I hope he is smart enough to learn from his predecessor's mistakes and bring a good new era to America and to the world and of course to people like me, who won't be disappointed every single day again when I turn on the TV or flip through the newspaper, and time and again, shake my head and sigh in despair.
That leaves me no room to notice anything happened around me for the past month, not even my investment. I have finally decided to leave it in God's hand and sure God spares me. My financial planner has transferred all my money into the monetary funds and by the end of the mandatory period, I will still have gained HKD 7000. It sounds very pathetic to me but it's better than haemorraging and losing all my money in the end. At least I can now sleep in peace.
Speaking of which, it seems like the world is now betting their hopes on Barack Obama and he is now our Savior, the reincarnation of Jesus the Messiah. He who we know little (I bet lots of people would differ because of his kiss-and-tell autobiographies and his famous dancing episode with Ellen deGeneres) will be shouldering, at least in the coming four years, the responsibility of revamping a collapsing/collapsed economic system and re-establishing a sound and healthy financial mechanism; dealing with the mess left by our dear ex-president George W. Bush on Iraq; recovering from the tarnished international reputation as an imbecile, inconsiderate and irrational aggressor; coming to terms with the world community on the global warming issue, and last but not least, saving face from the world scorn over Americans as a stupid and thoughtless group of people who will let someone as thick and selfish as Bush and Cheney to be elected, time and again. What daunting tasks Obama is facing!!
Changes are good, but not always. I remember when I was still working for an international magazine in 2000, I traveled to China and I bumped into a pair of Americans. Naturally, as the election was just around the corner, I asked them who they would pick as president, Bush or Gore, and they said, "Certainly Bush!! It's so boring to have the Democrats for eight consecutive years. We need a change!" Well, look what they have done to themselves. The Americans should have asked for tips from the fashion gurus: What you wear can change your life. What you choose, buddy, can change your entire dear life! Look what Bush the wrecker has managed to do to the world and he is an absolute disaster. I cannot say Obama will be a good change. But at least I hope he is smart enough to learn from his predecessor's mistakes and bring a good new era to America and to the world and of course to people like me, who won't be disappointed every single day again when I turn on the TV or flip through the newspaper, and time and again, shake my head and sigh in despair.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
The current financial crisis - My crisis?
I must now confess to everyone here what the fortune teller has said about me and my money is absolutely right - despite the fact that I am now a baptized Christian for two years. That guy from Wong Tai Sin Temple, whose name is Mr. Tao, once told me "Miss Ng, never thought about buying or speculating on anything. Once you start speculating, the whole world will be in dread." I brushed it off with a laugh. How can this happen? I rolled my eyes and cast a scornful look at him, as if he was just a ruddy big, fat liar pretending to pronounce an oracle from a temple (not a Greek one, a very Chinese and very Taoist one). He caught my despicable face, sighed and said, "Well, if you don't believe me. You can go ahead. But whatever you speculate, they will fall and you will crash and burn."
Well, now look what I have done to myself! I just bought the Zurich vista fund this Feb and I have invested several thousands dollars with a promise of 50% bonus each month to what I put in monthly. Since then, the market has been going the dogs. Now, all I can earn, instead of a 50% promise, it's just a pathetic 8% and could be less as now the stock market keeps plunging even though the US has passed the rescue plan. Investors' confidence has now reached almost an all time low. My heart is sinking and my money is shrinking. I still have 10 months to go for paying off the mandatory period of the plan. I am now considering jumping off the boat, sacrificing that several thousands dollars so that I can regain my peace of mind. Yet, my two financial planners and some of my family members think I can still wait because that money is used for my retirement. God! I am so incredibly stupid. I don't even know when I will die. Why am I even thinking about retirement plan?
I guess probably there are thousands of others who are having the same thoughts as I am. Thinking about retirement is a must-do these days when filial piety is almost dead and when couples are extricating themselves from the burden of childbirth and child-raising. For me, a soon-to-be divorcee who still has the earning power, it is unthinkable not to plan for the future, when it now looks so "volatile", to use the IT term of the market. It seems like having a retirement plan is what an adult should do and as a 38 year-old adult (at least age wise), it will be inappropriate not to think ahead. And trusting fund managers to bet on some bonds or low-risk funds seem to be a wise thing to do. Conventional wisdom has it that planning for the future is a sure-fire rule to save yourself from a penniless, childless fate.
I seriously don't know who to trust now. How can I trust financial planners when those financial gurus and financial giants are suffering the "crash and burn". I guess the recent financial crisis serves a wake-up call to anyone who believes that wall-street miracle and cash is king. As for my money, I guess I will just leave it to the Divine. And I am praying hard to my God that I am not certified "dead" with my money and I still hold faith that the Wong Tai Sin oracle will not stand long if my God intervenes. :)
Well, now look what I have done to myself! I just bought the Zurich vista fund this Feb and I have invested several thousands dollars with a promise of 50% bonus each month to what I put in monthly. Since then, the market has been going the dogs. Now, all I can earn, instead of a 50% promise, it's just a pathetic 8% and could be less as now the stock market keeps plunging even though the US has passed the rescue plan. Investors' confidence has now reached almost an all time low. My heart is sinking and my money is shrinking. I still have 10 months to go for paying off the mandatory period of the plan. I am now considering jumping off the boat, sacrificing that several thousands dollars so that I can regain my peace of mind. Yet, my two financial planners and some of my family members think I can still wait because that money is used for my retirement. God! I am so incredibly stupid. I don't even know when I will die. Why am I even thinking about retirement plan?
I guess probably there are thousands of others who are having the same thoughts as I am. Thinking about retirement is a must-do these days when filial piety is almost dead and when couples are extricating themselves from the burden of childbirth and child-raising. For me, a soon-to-be divorcee who still has the earning power, it is unthinkable not to plan for the future, when it now looks so "volatile", to use the IT term of the market. It seems like having a retirement plan is what an adult should do and as a 38 year-old adult (at least age wise), it will be inappropriate not to think ahead. And trusting fund managers to bet on some bonds or low-risk funds seem to be a wise thing to do. Conventional wisdom has it that planning for the future is a sure-fire rule to save yourself from a penniless, childless fate.
I seriously don't know who to trust now. How can I trust financial planners when those financial gurus and financial giants are suffering the "crash and burn". I guess the recent financial crisis serves a wake-up call to anyone who believes that wall-street miracle and cash is king. As for my money, I guess I will just leave it to the Divine. And I am praying hard to my God that I am not certified "dead" with my money and I still hold faith that the Wong Tai Sin oracle will not stand long if my God intervenes. :)
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