Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Men are Pigs, Women are Evil
"Hey, how's it going?" Nathan casually asked as he puffed on his cigarette.
"Good," I answered, trying not to notice his hand slyly brushing up my friend's back.
"Really? That's good." Giggles.
Like you care.
"Hey," he started. "Do you want to know a secret?"
"What?" I retorted cheerfully, trying to hide my despise for him.
He chuckled a little, coughing on his smoke, and motioned 'come here.' Reluctantly, I shifted my balance, arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow.
He walked over and put his hand on my shoulder, ever so delicately, and whispered lecherously in my ear, "All men are pigs. Women are evil." His sleepy and sticky voice seeped through my body.
He went on with a tirade of how men followed their natural instincts, and implied that it was okay to sleep with as many people as possible. Women were evil, playing mind games all the time and calculating ways to trap a man into precarious situations. He had it all figured out - being the former and being hurt by the latter made it okay for him to make this argument.
I had a lead-sinking feeling in my stomach. I felt as if I was scarred and tainted, merely by hearing those words. If life was a process of molding a perfect and flawless clay, I had a huge chunk carved out of me and knew that life as I knew it would be a continuous chunking away until I ceased to exist. Facing jaded reality makes me feel defeated, because refutation is futile and counter-productive.
Men are pigs. Women are evil.
A mantra that replays in my head once in a while, haunting me for the rest of my life.
"Good," I answered, trying not to notice his hand slyly brushing up my friend's back.
"Really? That's good." Giggles.
Like you care.
"Hey," he started. "Do you want to know a secret?"
"What?" I retorted cheerfully, trying to hide my despise for him.
He chuckled a little, coughing on his smoke, and motioned 'come here.' Reluctantly, I shifted my balance, arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow.
He walked over and put his hand on my shoulder, ever so delicately, and whispered lecherously in my ear, "All men are pigs. Women are evil." His sleepy and sticky voice seeped through my body.
He went on with a tirade of how men followed their natural instincts, and implied that it was okay to sleep with as many people as possible. Women were evil, playing mind games all the time and calculating ways to trap a man into precarious situations. He had it all figured out - being the former and being hurt by the latter made it okay for him to make this argument.
I had a lead-sinking feeling in my stomach. I felt as if I was scarred and tainted, merely by hearing those words. If life was a process of molding a perfect and flawless clay, I had a huge chunk carved out of me and knew that life as I knew it would be a continuous chunking away until I ceased to exist. Facing jaded reality makes me feel defeated, because refutation is futile and counter-productive.
Men are pigs. Women are evil.
A mantra that replays in my head once in a while, haunting me for the rest of my life.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
We Eat Sushi on Thanksgiving
As my train of thought strayed away from the yawns and gulps of coffee, I vaguely recalled the conversation this morning.
... a buzz on the wooden floor. Damn it. I thought I had 10 more minutes.
The alarm clock-substitute mobile phone just buzzed away, and I picked it up expecting it to kill my eardrums with a high-pitched chirp. Instead, the screen said, "Call 1." I answered in the sleepy idiot way that sounds similar to Yogi Bear, "Heelo-o-o...?"
"Hi, Saki-chan! Happy Thanksgiving!" My Mother still thinks that the time difference is minus 4, flip the am/pm between Hong Kong and the West Coast. I wouldn't have minded, but it was at that terrible moment of "I need to get up and go to work," so I hesitated. "Oh, hi...um... yeah, I need to get ready for work."
But it was nice to hear everyone's voice. Mom, Dad, Rin... this time, they decided that it wasn't worth it to waste precious international phone minutes putting the irrate cat and the panting dog on the phone (thank goodness). I don't need a holiday to remind me how thankful I am for my family, but it was a very nice gesture.
We're not an American family, and we always felt liminally awkward about the whole ordeal. We bring sushi appetizers when we are invited for Thanksgiving dinners and cook ham if we celebrate at home. My Dad and Rin pretend to watch American football with a Budweiser in hand for a couple of hours, but bore of it and go back to listening to Steely Dan and playing the guitar. In gradeschool, my brother and I thought the word "cornucopia" was a useless, erotic sounding word and turkeys were stunted ostriches that cross-bred with roosters. Actually, the Japanese word for "turkey" is "seven faced bird," which made no sense to us at all and we had no intention of eating a bird with 7 heads. The biggest mystery to us Long Islander kids (who went arrow-head hunting in the nature parks for fun), was why the heck we celebrate the friendship of the Native Amer-Indians and the Pilgrims when all the Indians got was a "thanks for giving us the food, but we have to drive you out of your land." All we found in Long Island in the 1980s were arrow-heads, but no Indians.
When I was about 7-years old, our family took a road trip to Boston. We did all the touristy stuff, including boarding the Mayflower II and walking around in Plymouth Plantation. We wondered if the people actually spin their own wool and churn butter for a living. It would have probably bursted our childhood bubbles if the costumed employees were smoking a Marlbro Light or wearing Nike sneakers. Then my brother and I played with our Teddy Roosevelt teddy bears in the car, alternating English and Japanese --- gosh, I have a totally Asian-American childhood.
In any case, Thanksgiving is still a nostalgic yet not really "our" holiday. My family decided to leave Japan in 1986 to move to New York. Since then, I have had chances to go back to Japan, but it never felt like my home again. Instead, the US became the new land - the land of opportunity, my childhood years, and where my parents felt comfortable enough to build their family. In a sense, we became pilgrims of a kind, taking a chance to uproot ourselves in hopes of a better life. When we first moved, my parents struggled with the language barrier, and we had occasional silly incidents like asking the police officer how to eat an artichoke. But the people of Long Island were very kind (also, very geriatric & children friendly, as every other neighbor wanted to give us cookies and pinch our cheeks). We were the strange foreigners in their calm, suburbia community. They were the natives, extending a warm welcome trying to figure out how to interact with us.
I also became very good friends with Jewish girls in New York and Illinois, so I learned somewhat about the Jewish festivals too. Our family was invited to Passover Dinners and I went to my best friend's Bat Mitzvah. My favorite is when they have a little fun - my friend's dad had a colorful yamulke with propellers on top.
...and my thoughts trail away, as I fantasize about the Thanksgiving dinner my family is having. Rin is going to cook turkey this year. He promised to send photos (kind of like how he did that for the Japanese New Year's - for the last 4 years, I have missed out on the biggest Japanese holiday - no wonder I feel confused about my cultural identity).
Fu... Happy Thanksgiving.
p.s. - Osechi
... a buzz on the wooden floor. Damn it. I thought I had 10 more minutes.
The alarm clock-substitute mobile phone just buzzed away, and I picked it up expecting it to kill my eardrums with a high-pitched chirp. Instead, the screen said, "Call 1." I answered in the sleepy idiot way that sounds similar to Yogi Bear, "Heelo-o-o...?"
"Hi, Saki-chan! Happy Thanksgiving!" My Mother still thinks that the time difference is minus 4, flip the am/pm between Hong Kong and the West Coast. I wouldn't have minded, but it was at that terrible moment of "I need to get up and go to work," so I hesitated. "Oh, hi...um... yeah, I need to get ready for work."
But it was nice to hear everyone's voice. Mom, Dad, Rin... this time, they decided that it wasn't worth it to waste precious international phone minutes putting the irrate cat and the panting dog on the phone (thank goodness). I don't need a holiday to remind me how thankful I am for my family, but it was a very nice gesture.
We're not an American family, and we always felt liminally awkward about the whole ordeal. We bring sushi appetizers when we are invited for Thanksgiving dinners and cook ham if we celebrate at home. My Dad and Rin pretend to watch American football with a Budweiser in hand for a couple of hours, but bore of it and go back to listening to Steely Dan and playing the guitar. In gradeschool, my brother and I thought the word "cornucopia" was a useless, erotic sounding word and turkeys were stunted ostriches that cross-bred with roosters. Actually, the Japanese word for "turkey" is "seven faced bird," which made no sense to us at all and we had no intention of eating a bird with 7 heads. The biggest mystery to us Long Islander kids (who went arrow-head hunting in the nature parks for fun), was why the heck we celebrate the friendship of the Native Amer-Indians and the Pilgrims when all the Indians got was a "thanks for giving us the food, but we have to drive you out of your land." All we found in Long Island in the 1980s were arrow-heads, but no Indians.
When I was about 7-years old, our family took a road trip to Boston. We did all the touristy stuff, including boarding the Mayflower II and walking around in Plymouth Plantation. We wondered if the people actually spin their own wool and churn butter for a living. It would have probably bursted our childhood bubbles if the costumed employees were smoking a Marlbro Light or wearing Nike sneakers. Then my brother and I played with our Teddy Roosevelt teddy bears in the car, alternating English and Japanese --- gosh, I have a totally Asian-American childhood.
In any case, Thanksgiving is still a nostalgic yet not really "our" holiday. My family decided to leave Japan in 1986 to move to New York. Since then, I have had chances to go back to Japan, but it never felt like my home again. Instead, the US became the new land - the land of opportunity, my childhood years, and where my parents felt comfortable enough to build their family. In a sense, we became pilgrims of a kind, taking a chance to uproot ourselves in hopes of a better life. When we first moved, my parents struggled with the language barrier, and we had occasional silly incidents like asking the police officer how to eat an artichoke. But the people of Long Island were very kind (also, very geriatric & children friendly, as every other neighbor wanted to give us cookies and pinch our cheeks). We were the strange foreigners in their calm, suburbia community. They were the natives, extending a warm welcome trying to figure out how to interact with us.
I also became very good friends with Jewish girls in New York and Illinois, so I learned somewhat about the Jewish festivals too. Our family was invited to Passover Dinners and I went to my best friend's Bat Mitzvah. My favorite is when they have a little fun - my friend's dad had a colorful yamulke with propellers on top.
...and my thoughts trail away, as I fantasize about the Thanksgiving dinner my family is having. Rin is going to cook turkey this year. He promised to send photos (kind of like how he did that for the Japanese New Year's - for the last 4 years, I have missed out on the biggest Japanese holiday - no wonder I feel confused about my cultural identity).
Fu... Happy Thanksgiving.
p.s. - Osechi
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Thanksgiving
No Thanksgiving would be complete (for me, at least) without this.
Gobble gobble gickle - Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!
Gobble gobble gickle - Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!
Monday, November 22, 2004
Somebody, poke me
Oh my gosh... the chili is killing every single cell on my tongue. Half an hour ago, even breathing hurt (like thousands of pins poking a nerve ending).
What was supposed to be a quaint "dinner party" turned into a huge buffet of Mexican food and an entrouge of wine. We made good use of the plant, as we plucked the tiny rockets hanging off the sorry excuse for a stem and leaves (the whole pot looked like a nuclear holocaust, mind you).
Duncan and I get an A+ for being good hosts. We should quit our day jobs and become event coordinators/caterers, like Monica on Friends.
Ash told me that I was his mother. And some concurred.
This reflection is an attempt to forget the clear and present laundry list of "TO DO"s on my desk. Suddenly the excitement has turned into overwhelming. Trying to stay focused, but mi estomago is full and eyelids are ready for landing.
I want to curl up and read a good book.
... No no. Mustn't.
I am imagining a big fat cow in the middle of a green grass field. Masticating away on the sweet blades. Gosh that cow looks lazy and jolly. I wish that cow was me.
Oh well... I shall write on new China trade policies in my next entry. Should be an interesting topic, but I feel too deflated to write anything intelligible.
Moo.
What was supposed to be a quaint "dinner party" turned into a huge buffet of Mexican food and an entrouge of wine. We made good use of the plant, as we plucked the tiny rockets hanging off the sorry excuse for a stem and leaves (the whole pot looked like a nuclear holocaust, mind you).
Duncan and I get an A+ for being good hosts. We should quit our day jobs and become event coordinators/caterers, like Monica on Friends.
Ash told me that I was his mother. And some concurred.
This reflection is an attempt to forget the clear and present laundry list of "TO DO"s on my desk. Suddenly the excitement has turned into overwhelming. Trying to stay focused, but mi estomago is full and eyelids are ready for landing.
I want to curl up and read a good book.
... No no. Mustn't.
I am imagining a big fat cow in the middle of a green grass field. Masticating away on the sweet blades. Gosh that cow looks lazy and jolly. I wish that cow was me.
Oh well... I shall write on new China trade policies in my next entry. Should be an interesting topic, but I feel too deflated to write anything intelligible.
Moo.
Listening to the Inner Voice
10:40am: Okay. Will shut up about birthday now.
It's been a marvelous weekend, complimentary to good company and dancing feet. Have been reading Bridget Jones' Diary in between going out and enjoying a lazy weekend. Starting to talk inside my head like Bridget - terse sentences and omitting subject nouns.
Just finished Mandarin class - bu tsuo.
10:45am: Reflection on weekend. Friday - it started off dreadful and then eventually elevated itself. After running late, climbing the stairs up & down, and trying to introduce everyone to each other, it finally started to feel like a party. It is strange trying to calculate time allocation at parties - you don't want to be rude about it, but you have to make an internal egg timer - and ding! - your time is up and you have to move on to talk to someone else. Good times.
1:40pm: Back from a blah lunch. I guess it counter-balances the weekend. Went dancing all night on Saturday - it was Swiss Kwai Fong night. Aside from the olfactory demolition by Ementaler cheese, all was good - Swiss Misses, free Frisk mint handouts, and the band (fiddle, guitar, drums, cow bells, and yodeling). Yodel-le-hi-hoo!
Went to dragon-I afterwards to dance the night away. Usually, they are snobbishly selective about who goes in, but I undeliberately walked in after a Canto-idol, so no hassle at the door. We danced to a whole load of Beyonce, Eminem, Sean Paul, and Kelis/Michael Jackson mix. Raymond informed us that a HK triad boss walked by. The toilets in this place is freakin' long and huge, sometimes with giddy couples coming out after their long session. Hmm...
Duncan & friend were hysterical after their fishbowl and claimed to remember nothing of the latter part of the evening. Morgan taught us a new game for the road. Ate McDonald's at 4am and felt incredibly guilty afterwards. ick. But we worked some of that off by hiking up at the Peak for the rest of the day. Gorgeous view... Oooo... Ahhh...
Watched 1/2 of "The Last Emperor" - had forgotten how terrible the movie was. But will watch rest of it some time tonight.
1:52pm: Must get back to work. Priorities. India or Japan?
India.
2:07pm: Uf. Brain not functioning. Hello? Is anybody there?
Trying to go for "exciting and added value" but somehow seems tacky and unimportant each time I reread sentences. Is it just me? Am I paranoid? It seems as if every time things start to march nicely in my head, further bumps and details start developing - and you just get overloaded like a balooning pita bread sandwich. It's all going to explode, and who cares about the detail of each ingredient then?
Must refresh mind and think about Japan project in 30 min.
4:24pm: Headache. Only 51 log-ins this week? Ulcer, ulcer, ulcer. Must stop drinking too much coffee.... starting tomorrow.
4:28pm: Hm... trying to get psyched about CD-ROM project. How do I convince myself that being a cheap internal translator can be an opportunity?
Must get back to India. Must add value.
6:17pm: Starting have a remote panic attack about this Peace Corps thing. How in the world am I going to find a bloody typewriter in Hong Kong??? They are just as mythical as toothfairies and leprechauns! Argggg....
6:23pm: Having Mexican food tonight. Hehehehehe... Mmm...Friday, November 19, 2004
I guess that's why they call it the blues
I don't know why and how, but I am royally depressed. And I haven't been able to pick up and go for 4 hours straight now.
Sometimes it's the little knicks that get to you than the big old razor slit. I was getting headaches, twitching, and huuuuuge knots in my shoulder during Mandarin class.
So not me. So not with the program today.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Sing us a song...
As usual, my birthday was extraordinary. Extra. Ordinary. On the rock.
I actually shied away from announcing my coming of age this year - it always makes me uncomfortable because I set up expectations and nothing happens. Other times, things happen, but I make people feel that they "have to" celebrate what would have been a nonchalant day for them.
People are going to celebrate me and Bart's birthday tonight - but what most won't know is that mine has already past. I don't even like writing that word on here anymore. birthday. ick - it's such a self-elevating ritual that makes casual friends make mediocre purchases or Hallmark the word of the day. Don't get me wrong - I'm not 'aging' averse. I'm just 'my birthday' averse. And I LOVE celebrating other people's birthdays - if I can remember them at all.
Perhaps that's it - I always forget other people's birthdays so I can't cope with the guilt of it on my own birthday.
But back to what I wanted to say. Yes, the day started normal enough - caffeine, people buzzing in the office, lunch, meetings, caffeine. And then the birthday card that people signed 2 weeks ago was dropped off by the secretary. More typing, discussions, caffeine. The tea lady saw the cards on my desk and immediately gave me her secret stash of snacks as a birthday gift. Company dinner after work, because the big big boss was in town.
The dinner conversation almost choked me. Family planning, didgeridoo, Bush's glorious comeback, German superiority complex, abalone, golf, Wal-mart in China, tongue-in-cheek driver stories. At the neighboring table, the Filipino group drank their beer and beckoned me to sit next to their cute and single colleague. Too bad all the seats were taken - I kicked myself a dozen times for having bad timing.
The group trimmed down to 2/3 and headed to karaoke. I cursed the person who chose "Wannabe" by the Spicegirls and myself for not having drunk enough beer. Some great singers in the house - who knew our quiet Shanghai colleague had a thing for 'Michael Learns to Rock'? And as usual, big big boss gave us his deep, Louis Armstrong singing - awesome. We warily watched and listened to big boss belt out 'Hotel California' to the music video of women in one-piece bathing suits and naked little boys on the beach of Beihai. Disturbing. For so many reasons. But hands down, the Filipinos put everyone to shame. My gosh, they can sing! At one point, I asked one of the guys to marry me (but of course, I was turned down - I don't think he wanted to break his marriage).
After the English-speaking crew left for the hotel and midnight con calls (hey, it was a Thursday night and only Thursday morning in the US), 5 of us stayed behind for Chinese and Japanese karaoke. It was a bit bizarre for me to spend my day this way, but after a bit of 'Southern All Stars', a tequila popper, and a consolation karaoke version of 'Happy Birthday' for forgetting my birthday, nothing seemed more comforting.
In the morning, I told the details of my bizarre day to Duncan. He greeted me this morning with presents - "Bridget Jones' Diary" and "Edge of Reason." I was a happy girl.
I actually shied away from announcing my coming of age this year - it always makes me uncomfortable because I set up expectations and nothing happens. Other times, things happen, but I make people feel that they "have to" celebrate what would have been a nonchalant day for them.
People are going to celebrate me and Bart's birthday tonight - but what most won't know is that mine has already past. I don't even like writing that word on here anymore. birthday. ick - it's such a self-elevating ritual that makes casual friends make mediocre purchases or Hallmark the word of the day. Don't get me wrong - I'm not 'aging' averse. I'm just 'my birthday' averse. And I LOVE celebrating other people's birthdays - if I can remember them at all.
Perhaps that's it - I always forget other people's birthdays so I can't cope with the guilt of it on my own birthday.
But back to what I wanted to say. Yes, the day started normal enough - caffeine, people buzzing in the office, lunch, meetings, caffeine. And then the birthday card that people signed 2 weeks ago was dropped off by the secretary. More typing, discussions, caffeine. The tea lady saw the cards on my desk and immediately gave me her secret stash of snacks as a birthday gift. Company dinner after work, because the big big boss was in town.
The dinner conversation almost choked me. Family planning, didgeridoo, Bush's glorious comeback, German superiority complex, abalone, golf, Wal-mart in China, tongue-in-cheek driver stories. At the neighboring table, the Filipino group drank their beer and beckoned me to sit next to their cute and single colleague. Too bad all the seats were taken - I kicked myself a dozen times for having bad timing.
The group trimmed down to 2/3 and headed to karaoke. I cursed the person who chose "Wannabe" by the Spicegirls and myself for not having drunk enough beer. Some great singers in the house - who knew our quiet Shanghai colleague had a thing for 'Michael Learns to Rock'? And as usual, big big boss gave us his deep, Louis Armstrong singing - awesome. We warily watched and listened to big boss belt out 'Hotel California' to the music video of women in one-piece bathing suits and naked little boys on the beach of Beihai. Disturbing. For so many reasons. But hands down, the Filipinos put everyone to shame. My gosh, they can sing! At one point, I asked one of the guys to marry me (but of course, I was turned down - I don't think he wanted to break his marriage).
After the English-speaking crew left for the hotel and midnight con calls (hey, it was a Thursday night and only Thursday morning in the US), 5 of us stayed behind for Chinese and Japanese karaoke. It was a bit bizarre for me to spend my day this way, but after a bit of 'Southern All Stars', a tequila popper, and a consolation karaoke version of 'Happy Birthday' for forgetting my birthday, nothing seemed more comforting.
In the morning, I told the details of my bizarre day to Duncan. He greeted me this morning with presents - "Bridget Jones' Diary" and "Edge of Reason." I was a happy girl.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Fallujah, Free speech, Foul Play
At a risk of being criticized for having a personal agenda, I present: http://fallujapictures.blogspot.com (thanks Mel & Jesse!)
This is very very enlightening: the things we don't see in the media but ought to be seen. I think the author of this weblog has it more thought out than a blunt anti-Bush campaign or a "stop war, make love" commentary - the comments by others on the site make you think about the level of knowledge the American people have on the situation, their sentiments towards the war, and the meaning of choosing Bush for another 4 years in office.
With great power comes great responsibility.
What I really felt after surfing this site was the sad realization that no matter how much people speak up -- via weblogs, photos, live satellite feeds, etc. -- if the right people are not listening, it won't really make a difference.
It is as if someone -- US soldiers, Iraqi insurgents, the children, a Republican, a Democrat, a concerned world citizen -- is screaming in front of a roaring jet engine - a futile attempt and you end up burnt. The irony of free speech is that the more you can say, the easier it is to get lost in the sea of words - it is also harder to judge what is important and easier to ignore the important things.
As I read through the comments, I can feel that the people's opinions are hardening under their own conviction and trying to make some sense within themselves - a deaf ear by harsh backlash against those who disagree.
Why have we become so cynical?
Have we become so stubborn that we cannot admit a screw up and turn back? I personally cannot help but become very dismal about where power is located in the world today. Geopolitics has changed since - oh, end of Cold War and the waking of China. The US is no longer the benevolent "Daddy Longlegs" nor the lone big bully in the playground. But equally, the world leaders outside of US need to take a strong stance to create a balance of power (my bet is on the Euro and the US deficit to actually make a shift in powers).
Long story short though - I encourage you to visit the site and see it for yourself. The more informed we are, the better we are armed against ignorance. http://fallujapictures.blogspot.com
This is very very enlightening: the things we don't see in the media but ought to be seen. I think the author of this weblog has it more thought out than a blunt anti-Bush campaign or a "stop war, make love" commentary - the comments by others on the site make you think about the level of knowledge the American people have on the situation, their sentiments towards the war, and the meaning of choosing Bush for another 4 years in office.
With great power comes great responsibility.
What I really felt after surfing this site was the sad realization that no matter how much people speak up -- via weblogs, photos, live satellite feeds, etc. -- if the right people are not listening, it won't really make a difference.
It is as if someone -- US soldiers, Iraqi insurgents, the children, a Republican, a Democrat, a concerned world citizen -- is screaming in front of a roaring jet engine - a futile attempt and you end up burnt. The irony of free speech is that the more you can say, the easier it is to get lost in the sea of words - it is also harder to judge what is important and easier to ignore the important things.
As I read through the comments, I can feel that the people's opinions are hardening under their own conviction and trying to make some sense within themselves - a deaf ear by harsh backlash against those who disagree.
Why have we become so cynical?
Have we become so stubborn that we cannot admit a screw up and turn back? I personally cannot help but become very dismal about where power is located in the world today. Geopolitics has changed since - oh, end of Cold War and the waking of China. The US is no longer the benevolent "Daddy Longlegs" nor the lone big bully in the playground. But equally, the world leaders outside of US need to take a strong stance to create a balance of power (my bet is on the Euro and the US deficit to actually make a shift in powers).
Long story short though - I encourage you to visit the site and see it for yourself. The more informed we are, the better we are armed against ignorance. http://fallujapictures.blogspot.com
Fallujah, Free speech, Foul Play
At a risk of being criticized for having a personal agenda, I present: http://fallujapictures.blogspot.com (thanks Mel & Jesse!)
This is very very enlightening: the things we don't see in the media but ought to be seen. I think the author of this weblog has it more thought out than a blunt anti-Bush campaign or a "stop war, make love" commentary - the comments by others on the site make you think about the level of knowledge the American people have on the situation, their sentiments towards the war, and the meaning of choosing Bush for another 4 years in office.
With great power comes great responsibility.
What I really felt after surfing this site was the sad realization that no matter how much people speak up -- via weblogs, photos, live satellite feeds, etc. -- if the right people are not listening, it won't really make a difference.
It is as if someone -- US soldiers, Iraqi insurgents, the children, a Republican, a Democrat, a concerned world citizen -- is screaming in front of a roaring jet engine - a futile attempt and you end up burnt. The irony of free speech is that the more you can say, the easier it is to get lost in the sea of words - it is also harder to judge what is important and easier to ignore the important things.
As I read through the comments, I can feel that the people's opinions are hardening under their own conviction and trying to make some sense within themselves - a deaf ear by harsh backlash against those who disagree.
Why have we become so cynical?
Have we become so stubborn that we cannot admit a screw up and turn back? I personally cannot help but become very dismal about where power is located in the world today. Geopolitics has changed since - oh, end of Cold War and the waking of China. The US is no longer the benevolent "Daddy Longlegs" nor the lone big bully in the playground. But equally, the world leaders outside of US need to take a strong stance to create a balance of power (my bet is on the Euro and the US deficit to actually make a shift in powers).
Long story short though - I encourage you to visit the site and see it for yourself. The more informed we are, the better we are armed against ignorance. http://fallujapictures.blogspot.com
This is very very enlightening: the things we don't see in the media but ought to be seen. I think the author of this weblog has it more thought out than a blunt anti-Bush campaign or a "stop war, make love" commentary - the comments by others on the site make you think about the level of knowledge the American people have on the situation, their sentiments towards the war, and the meaning of choosing Bush for another 4 years in office.
With great power comes great responsibility.
What I really felt after surfing this site was the sad realization that no matter how much people speak up -- via weblogs, photos, live satellite feeds, etc. -- if the right people are not listening, it won't really make a difference.
It is as if someone -- US soldiers, Iraqi insurgents, the children, a Republican, a Democrat, a concerned world citizen -- is screaming in front of a roaring jet engine - a futile attempt and you end up burnt. The irony of free speech is that the more you can say, the easier it is to get lost in the sea of words - it is also harder to judge what is important and easier to ignore the important things.
As I read through the comments, I can feel that the people's opinions are hardening under their own conviction and trying to make some sense within themselves - a deaf ear by harsh backlash against those who disagree.
Why have we become so cynical?
Have we become so stubborn that we cannot admit a screw up and turn back? I personally cannot help but become very dismal about where power is located in the world today. Geopolitics has changed since - oh, end of Cold War and the waking of China. The US is no longer the benevolent "Daddy Longlegs" nor the lone big bully in the playground. But equally, the world leaders outside of US need to take a strong stance to create a balance of power (my bet is on the Euro and the US deficit to actually make a shift in powers).
Long story short though - I encourage you to visit the site and see it for yourself. The more informed we are, the better we are armed against ignorance. http://fallujapictures.blogspot.com
It's Alive!
Normally, our office is a deadpan with 8 people max, busily clicking away at the computers. You can hear a needle drop - and it will blow your eardrums out.
Today, everybody made Hong Kong their business trip destination - we are running out of cables to hook laptops on. Suddenly, the air is filled with "So glad to see you again! You look great!" and "Nice to meet you in person, finally. I've heard lots about you." Unfamiliar ringtones and languages add to the buzz.
I'm happy I can get some work done with face-to-face contact. Teleconferencing and e-mails cut distances, but they are not as powerful as working together in the same room.
The Shanghai crew is lively with Mandarin and love to talk about food, office, and work. The Filipino group is fun and we talk about music and going out. Everyone has a smile on their face and seem to be in a "let's do it!" state of mind.
Less than a month until the annual conference - this is like a preview to the movie.
Monday, November 15, 2004
The New Casual Dating
This is Wal-Mart?
I guess we've foregone online dating services, speed dating, and friends trying to hook you up with friends. Why not enjoy a stroll in aisle six, Tupperware and Teflon? He may be your dreamboat, as you both pick out the toilet seat cover - beige or peach.
I guess we've foregone online dating services, speed dating, and friends trying to hook you up with friends. Why not enjoy a stroll in aisle six, Tupperware and Teflon? He may be your dreamboat, as you both pick out the toilet seat cover - beige or peach.
Sunday, November 14, 2004
Stick, Stones, and an Electric Whip
E-mail communication can be misunderstood so easily. Within a second. Overseas. With people you've never met face to face. (Often times) even with your close ones.
There once was a time when people paid attention to "nettiquetts," and kept a smiley-face code manual by their side so they were conveying the right emotions through the :'s and ;'s and )'s. Today, the rules vary drastically and the users come in 31 different flavors (or more).
The truth is, in the past year, I have been conditioned to a certain type of e-mail/online writing. I write, scrutinize for meaning, and then reread it 5-6 times before hitting that "send" button or posting on the web. If there is a single mistake in grammar or even one space too many between sentences, I have to go back and fix it (and often times, the process is irreversable. So the first chance is the only chance you get). You can make a binary out of just about anything, and this is a binary about the types who can give a rat's ass about punctuation and crossing their "t"s, versus the nit-picky nervous types who freak out when people confuse "their" and "there." I admit that I adhere closer to the latter, but that's because it's 99% of my job.
I had a particularly unpleasant incident this morning when I wrote an e-mail to a candidate for the Emerson traineeship, explaining that I wasn't really a mean old bitch telling him that he may not be right for the job. I honestly feel very bad for hurting his feelings, and there definitely was a misunderstanding. The issue revolved around the fact that I didn't think his English writing matched the job - I personally feel that when applying for an English writing position, the employer reserves the right to judge your writing from the time of first contact.
I'm not an uptight person on a social level (all right, maybe sometimes...), but when it comes to the job... it's a whole different story.
I have done candidate screening for various AIESEC traineeships in the States, and now, for the company I am currently employed at. It's hard for me not to get a little irked when people write e-mails as if they were being gunned down by an assassin and had to use the 4.5 seconds to e-mail that last message home. Is it too much to ask for a spellcheck these days? And AIESEC or not, isn't there a minimum level of professionalism required when you apply for a job? Especially for a writing and communications position?
I might sound narrow-minded if I say this, but being in AIESEC does not mean you have an automatic pass to "Go and collect $200." I view AIESEC as a living network of some of the incredible people, companies, and organizations in the world - and if we really want to keep it that way, there's a certain degree of integritiy that has to go with it.
I think we all learn from our mistakes. In this morning's incident, I claim the blame for the blunt attitude (although rereading the e-mails, I was not completely irrational). Sometimes, certain things we don't want to hear need to be heard if progress is to be made. I don't know if the candidate is still mad or disgusted at me, but I came out a little wiser that I can become a nasty person via e-mail. Perhaps I will loosen up a little...
I will continue to be a whip when it comes to finding the right candidate for the job - it's only fair for the company and the candidate, who has to make the trip all the way to a different country. Sigh... It's just sad that I will be perceived as the mean old person, based on the e-mail conversations. Sometimes you get it. Sometimes you don't.
Oh well. I have my other demons to fight right now.
There once was a time when people paid attention to "nettiquetts," and kept a smiley-face code manual by their side so they were conveying the right emotions through the :'s and ;'s and )'s. Today, the rules vary drastically and the users come in 31 different flavors (or more).
The truth is, in the past year, I have been conditioned to a certain type of e-mail/online writing. I write, scrutinize for meaning, and then reread it 5-6 times before hitting that "send" button or posting on the web. If there is a single mistake in grammar or even one space too many between sentences, I have to go back and fix it (and often times, the process is irreversable. So the first chance is the only chance you get). You can make a binary out of just about anything, and this is a binary about the types who can give a rat's ass about punctuation and crossing their "t"s, versus the nit-picky nervous types who freak out when people confuse "their" and "there." I admit that I adhere closer to the latter, but that's because it's 99% of my job.
I had a particularly unpleasant incident this morning when I wrote an e-mail to a candidate for the Emerson traineeship, explaining that I wasn't really a mean old bitch telling him that he may not be right for the job. I honestly feel very bad for hurting his feelings, and there definitely was a misunderstanding. The issue revolved around the fact that I didn't think his English writing matched the job - I personally feel that when applying for an English writing position, the employer reserves the right to judge your writing from the time of first contact.
I'm not an uptight person on a social level (all right, maybe sometimes...), but when it comes to the job... it's a whole different story.
I have done candidate screening for various AIESEC traineeships in the States, and now, for the company I am currently employed at. It's hard for me not to get a little irked when people write e-mails as if they were being gunned down by an assassin and had to use the 4.5 seconds to e-mail that last message home. Is it too much to ask for a spellcheck these days? And AIESEC or not, isn't there a minimum level of professionalism required when you apply for a job? Especially for a writing and communications position?
I might sound narrow-minded if I say this, but being in AIESEC does not mean you have an automatic pass to "Go and collect $200." I view AIESEC as a living network of some of the incredible people, companies, and organizations in the world - and if we really want to keep it that way, there's a certain degree of integritiy that has to go with it.
I think we all learn from our mistakes. In this morning's incident, I claim the blame for the blunt attitude (although rereading the e-mails, I was not completely irrational). Sometimes, certain things we don't want to hear need to be heard if progress is to be made. I don't know if the candidate is still mad or disgusted at me, but I came out a little wiser that I can become a nasty person via e-mail. Perhaps I will loosen up a little...
I will continue to be a whip when it comes to finding the right candidate for the job - it's only fair for the company and the candidate, who has to make the trip all the way to a different country. Sigh... It's just sad that I will be perceived as the mean old person, based on the e-mail conversations. Sometimes you get it. Sometimes you don't.
Oh well. I have my other demons to fight right now.
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Ug...
I hate being sick. Everybody hates being sick.
It's just so darn frustrating to be stuffy, have a sore throat, and feel icky in general. My colleague in Shanghai just called me and said, "Saki! You sound terrible! You should be going home to rest."
Thanks for noticing. I was trying to hide the fact that I was sick all day long, and one phone call blows my cover. In my nasal-y, cough-cough, "I'm gonna' die soon" scraggly voice, I explain the action plans for next week. I think she even wanted to cut the conversation short so that the sickness won't travel through the phonelines.
I must get well before next weekend - nothing's worse than being dead-sick for your birthday celebration. But an art class, meeting with friends, and another farewell party beckons... it's so tough to have a social life lately...
Antibiotics are amazingly cheap here (and sold in regular drug stores)... which makes it all the easier for the bacterias to become resistant. Scary.
Ug... I want my bed.
It's just so darn frustrating to be stuffy, have a sore throat, and feel icky in general. My colleague in Shanghai just called me and said, "Saki! You sound terrible! You should be going home to rest."
Thanks for noticing. I was trying to hide the fact that I was sick all day long, and one phone call blows my cover. In my nasal-y, cough-cough, "I'm gonna' die soon" scraggly voice, I explain the action plans for next week. I think she even wanted to cut the conversation short so that the sickness won't travel through the phonelines.
I must get well before next weekend - nothing's worse than being dead-sick for your birthday celebration. But an art class, meeting with friends, and another farewell party beckons... it's so tough to have a social life lately...
Antibiotics are amazingly cheap here (and sold in regular drug stores)... which makes it all the easier for the bacterias to become resistant. Scary.
Ug... I want my bed.
Monday, November 08, 2004
What's in a Name?
It all started when Gabriela wanted to celebrate her "name day." November 8th was Saint Gabriel and Michael's Day, so she invited us to have dinner with her to celebrate the occasion.
It wasn't long before I was surrounded by English teachers (Gabi's colleagues) at the table and I popped the question: "What strange names have you heard in Hong Kong?"
I'm not being a culturally insensitive moron here - it's a trend for kids to choose strange English names. And I mean strange. So why not ask the experts on the topic?
For instance, Duncan was telling me how one of his students declared, "I'm Spiderman!" one day. Duncan kindly retorted, "No you're not!" But when he checked the roster, indeed, his name was "Spiderman." Well…they'll eventually grow out of it, or grow up, and realize it's not so cool.
So... Heather and Helen were full of stories. Heather had once scolded a child saying, "No, you get down from there, Bobo!" Ash was delightfully tickled by his student, "Turbo," who made motoring noises wherever he went. The best is when you encounter a kid whose name is "Schoolbag." I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face calling out such a name in class.
The thing is, it's not the parents - the kids actually think up of the cool names (remember, in their mind, it's cool) and decide to change their names every other week. No wonder the English teachers go nuts.
On the other hand, sometimes it does run in the family. Helen was telling us about a kid named "Buzz Lightyear" and his Mom was "Woody." No joke - I'm not making this up.
Sometimes, people don't grow out of this funny name phase. Courtney knows someone at work named "Zero." I have a colleague named "Dance," and I once saw a popcorn vendor at a theme park named "Him" (Some would argue that it is actually his Chinese name - I wanted to see if he had a girlfriend named "Her"). Another one I fancy is "Fannie," to which Americans giggle and the English cringe. I can't help it (I know it's terrible) - they just seem so odd to me.
But then again, I'm sure people get a kick out of my name. No, my parents were not inebriated when they conceived me, thank you very much (Sometimes it's a hassle to tell people the difference between "Saki" and "sake (the drink)").
Here are some jokes from Helen (one for the road!):
Q: What do you call an Italian with a rubber toe?
A: Roberto!
Q: What do you call a Russian who delivers soda?
A: Dropsalottapopsoff
Q: What do you call two Spanish firemen?
A: Hose A, Hose B
...Ah. It's a great conversation starter.
It wasn't long before I was surrounded by English teachers (Gabi's colleagues) at the table and I popped the question: "What strange names have you heard in Hong Kong?"
I'm not being a culturally insensitive moron here - it's a trend for kids to choose strange English names. And I mean strange. So why not ask the experts on the topic?
For instance, Duncan was telling me how one of his students declared, "I'm Spiderman!" one day. Duncan kindly retorted, "No you're not!" But when he checked the roster, indeed, his name was "Spiderman." Well…they'll eventually grow out of it, or grow up, and realize it's not so cool.
So... Heather and Helen were full of stories. Heather had once scolded a child saying, "No, you get down from there, Bobo!" Ash was delightfully tickled by his student, "Turbo," who made motoring noises wherever he went. The best is when you encounter a kid whose name is "Schoolbag." I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face calling out such a name in class.
The thing is, it's not the parents - the kids actually think up of the cool names (remember, in their mind, it's cool) and decide to change their names every other week. No wonder the English teachers go nuts.
On the other hand, sometimes it does run in the family. Helen was telling us about a kid named "Buzz Lightyear" and his Mom was "Woody." No joke - I'm not making this up.
Sometimes, people don't grow out of this funny name phase. Courtney knows someone at work named "Zero." I have a colleague named "Dance," and I once saw a popcorn vendor at a theme park named "Him" (Some would argue that it is actually his Chinese name - I wanted to see if he had a girlfriend named "Her"). Another one I fancy is "Fannie," to which Americans giggle and the English cringe. I can't help it (I know it's terrible) - they just seem so odd to me.
But then again, I'm sure people get a kick out of my name. No, my parents were not inebriated when they conceived me, thank you very much (Sometimes it's a hassle to tell people the difference between "Saki" and "sake (the drink)").
Here are some jokes from Helen (one for the road!):
Q: What do you call an Italian with a rubber toe?
A: Roberto!
Q: What do you call a Russian who delivers soda?
A: Dropsalottapopsoff
Q: What do you call two Spanish firemen?
A: Hose A, Hose B
...Ah. It's a great conversation starter.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
Dilbert's Dream Come True
(or Scott Adam's worst nightmare, depending on how you look at it).
A boss that cares. A corporation that will advise you how to remain employed. And throw in a nice lunch.
Doesn't it all sound too good to be true?
But it happened right in front of my eyes today. I'm sure many of my corporate peers will argue that their companies treat them nicely and take them out to nice lunches. However, I doubt that the open and frank conversation that went on today at my company happens everywhere.
To tell you the truth, I was quite surprised how sympathetic and motivating my boss was (not to say that I didn't think so before). I could really see him trying to open a dialogue and be completely frank with everyone in the office. There's always going to be office politics, but the degree of it can change depending on where the leadership sets its foot down.
True, I haven't had the rich experience of working for 2 decades in various companies. However, just by hearing the relationships that people have had with their company and bosses, I can tell that I am in quite a good place. It's like the Goldilocks and the 3 Bears story - the porridge is not too hot, not too cold: it's just right. The company culture (which by the way, is very American) is results-oriented with a take-no-bullshit attitude, but it also rewards those who are willing to grow and develop.
No sugarcoating. Presents opportunities to those who try. And keeps you focused.
Growing up and watching my father who worked at a Japanese company, an American company, an Irish VC, and a German company, I understand the weight of culture in the workplace. However, you just have to work through it, and I think my boss is leading the organization with a novel approach.
Transparency, simple messages (repeated), and encouraging positive growth - it works.
I know that I will take this with me in my career - some bosses will give you words of encouragement, and that will be a good start. But some will detect the concerns and step up to nail the issue on the head - bluntly. It's not merely because it is the American way, but it is because of this particular company and leadership's attitude.
I'm not going to lie - my job isn't always rosy colors. But I like what I'm doing and seeing how the leadership affects the growth of this organization. That's what I wake up and look forward to every morning.
A boss that cares. A corporation that will advise you how to remain employed. And throw in a nice lunch.
Doesn't it all sound too good to be true?
But it happened right in front of my eyes today. I'm sure many of my corporate peers will argue that their companies treat them nicely and take them out to nice lunches. However, I doubt that the open and frank conversation that went on today at my company happens everywhere.
To tell you the truth, I was quite surprised how sympathetic and motivating my boss was (not to say that I didn't think so before). I could really see him trying to open a dialogue and be completely frank with everyone in the office. There's always going to be office politics, but the degree of it can change depending on where the leadership sets its foot down.
True, I haven't had the rich experience of working for 2 decades in various companies. However, just by hearing the relationships that people have had with their company and bosses, I can tell that I am in quite a good place. It's like the Goldilocks and the 3 Bears story - the porridge is not too hot, not too cold: it's just right. The company culture (which by the way, is very American) is results-oriented with a take-no-bullshit attitude, but it also rewards those who are willing to grow and develop.
No sugarcoating. Presents opportunities to those who try. And keeps you focused.
Growing up and watching my father who worked at a Japanese company, an American company, an Irish VC, and a German company, I understand the weight of culture in the workplace. However, you just have to work through it, and I think my boss is leading the organization with a novel approach.
Transparency, simple messages (repeated), and encouraging positive growth - it works.
I know that I will take this with me in my career - some bosses will give you words of encouragement, and that will be a good start. But some will detect the concerns and step up to nail the issue on the head - bluntly. It's not merely because it is the American way, but it is because of this particular company and leadership's attitude.
I'm not going to lie - my job isn't always rosy colors. But I like what I'm doing and seeing how the leadership affects the growth of this organization. That's what I wake up and look forward to every morning.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Seasar
I took photos of these in an Okinawa shop when I was in Japan.
-- I like the little guys on the right.
Supposedly these guarding gods of households, Seasars, come in pairs to prevent fire and various misfortunes to the family.
I just think they are cool to have. Okinawa boom continues in Japan (for now).
On a more interesting note, my uncle seemed to have survived surgery. Considering that he was still hitting on the nurses under anesthetics, I think he's doing all right.
-- I like the little guys on the right.
Supposedly these guarding gods of households, Seasars, come in pairs to prevent fire and various misfortunes to the family.
I just think they are cool to have. Okinawa boom continues in Japan (for now).
On a more interesting note, my uncle seemed to have survived surgery. Considering that he was still hitting on the nurses under anesthetics, I think he's doing all right.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Introducing... the State of AIESEC
As KK and I watched US television and cnn.com, respectively, we were quite bummed. No, I take that back - we were hysterical. I'm still out in Hong Kong, and KK is back in the US, but L.A. We both sent in absentee ballots and shared the passion for double-checking the numbers every 2 seconds.
In our fatigued conversations, we would say: "If the international community had a say, Bush would never make it to office." It was actually interesting to see CNN's live weblog coverage from different parts of the world. Indeed, how would the world vote? Even if a lot of our international friends are anti-Iraq war, I doubt that it would be a flawless victory.
So KK and I decided to dream a little...
"Come join the 52nd State of AIESEC, where the beer will be free-flowing and we'll listen to different political system of other nations. Where we will understand the strife of anarchy or a communist regime, because our fellow refugee statesmen from Pakistan, Chechnya, Poland, and Cuba will tell us what it's "really" like. But not only that, we may even learn something from it and incorporate the ideas that come from it into our state. The grass is green and the girls are pretty too."
It was something to keep our minds off of the actual campaign...
In our fatigued conversations, we would say: "If the international community had a say, Bush would never make it to office." It was actually interesting to see CNN's live weblog coverage from different parts of the world. Indeed, how would the world vote? Even if a lot of our international friends are anti-Iraq war, I doubt that it would be a flawless victory.
So KK and I decided to dream a little...
"Come join the 52nd State of AIESEC, where the beer will be free-flowing and we'll listen to different political system of other nations. Where we will understand the strife of anarchy or a communist regime, because our fellow refugee statesmen from Pakistan, Chechnya, Poland, and Cuba will tell us what it's "really" like. But not only that, we may even learn something from it and incorporate the ideas that come from it into our state. The grass is green and the girls are pretty too."
It was something to keep our minds off of the actual campaign...
Monday, November 01, 2004
The Truest Thing I've Heard in Months
I don't think that's even grammatically correct. But oh well...
Last night, I heard a very clever comment that most people seemed to tacitly recognize but never vocalized to make that scary affirmation: Hong Kong is the Sex and the City of Asia.
While it lacks the posh and glamour of the Big Apple, Hong Kong has a vibe to it that makes Relationships virtually impossible, virtual relationships possible, and produce a hoarde of frustrated romantics who can't find true love. Here's a newsflash for you: it doesn't exist.
Well, that won't be fair to the couples I know. But I also know that eventually, they will either break up or move to another country.
I'm no Carrie Bradshaw and I don't claim to be one, but you don't need to look too far to find singles support groups: I happen to have 10 girlfriends, 2 metrosexuals, and half a dozen gay men on my side to share the glory or rants with. It's great to be single in Hong Kong and enjoy it as much as possible.
Last night, I heard a very clever comment that most people seemed to tacitly recognize but never vocalized to make that scary affirmation: Hong Kong is the Sex and the City of Asia.
While it lacks the posh and glamour of the Big Apple, Hong Kong has a vibe to it that makes Relationships virtually impossible, virtual relationships possible, and produce a hoarde of frustrated romantics who can't find true love. Here's a newsflash for you: it doesn't exist.
Well, that won't be fair to the couples I know. But I also know that eventually, they will either break up or move to another country.
I'm no Carrie Bradshaw and I don't claim to be one, but you don't need to look too far to find singles support groups: I happen to have 10 girlfriends, 2 metrosexuals, and half a dozen gay men on my side to share the glory or rants with. It's great to be single in Hong Kong and enjoy it as much as possible.
su lugar de votación es...
It's funny when you get generic mail from back home.
It's not funny when you get mail from your country saying that you have to show up at a middle school gym (public polling place) that is 7, 300 miles away, a night before election day.
I figured that it was a glitch in the absentee ballot system, but somehow even that thought doesn't comfort me. They had the courtesy to send me a postcard saying: Your polling place is: Hart Middle School Gym Entrance, 4433 Willow Rd, Pleasanton, CA.
Does my vote count?!?!? (no, really. Did you _actually_ receive my absentee ballot???)
The Onion
It's not funny when you get mail from your country saying that you have to show up at a middle school gym (public polling place) that is 7, 300 miles away, a night before election day.
I figured that it was a glitch in the absentee ballot system, but somehow even that thought doesn't comfort me. They had the courtesy to send me a postcard saying: Your polling place is: Hart Middle School Gym Entrance, 4433 Willow Rd, Pleasanton, CA.
Does my vote count?!?!? (no, really. Did you _actually_ receive my absentee ballot???)
The Onion
