Made in Japan, Outsourced Globally

Anxiety is overwhelming lately, and I can hear the rapturing of something at the corner of my eye. But I still don't know if it's for the better or worse.

Things are a-OK, but I can't revel in the comfort of things, and I'm having Veronika Decides to Die sentiments. The emotional roller coaster of 喜怒哀楽 kidoairaku (ki = happiness, do = anger, ai = sadness, raku = jovialness) has worn me out.

Brief moments of joy pass in seeing old faces, jammin' on gourds (or other percussion instruments found at my colleague's apartment), the best cupcake in the world, dancing, and finding out that somebody loves me.

I am ever restless, however. Why is it that we can't be happy when you know somebody else is not? Not on a personal level, but the negativity in the world bites. The comfort of present life is not so sweet any more. I hate having to grow a tougher skin, because it makes me question why we need to do so in the first place.

On a lighter note, I'm inspired by the bright eyes I have met recently. Laura is a kind and good friend who is starting a new life in Chicago; Jingwei has become quite the worldly traveler, seeing her home country in a new way; met some of the Madison crew (finally) - Mixmaster, Bruni, Burbs, and Jenna; and Lars is blogging again (I wholeheartedly concurr with his perception of Shanghai).

I'll drift away again in few more months. I'm really liking Emir's discipline and life choice. All I want to do is to start walking into the sunset with a guitar (or a violin?) on my back... Be happy, simplify life, and do the boogaloo - that's what I'll do.

Too busy to take photos. This is the best I've got.


@ Bay Area - from the original to the present. Left to right: San Jose - Julie (current member), Ysabelle (2002-2004); San Francisco - Sean (2002-present), Calgary (1999-2004, 'Original Rump Shaker'); West Coast Nat'l Staff - Chris White (1999-present), Gaurav Moore (1999-2001); Berkeley - Saki (1999-2003), Celeste (2000-2001).


Kelly and Heath came all the way from Belfast and Auckland to join us. That's devotion ;)


And of course, there was dancing. (I love Jeff's expression).


NY is not NY without my favorite Colombiano - Omar.

It was a constant cry of "OH MY GOSH! IT'S BEEN SO LONG!!!" all weekend long. We raised our glasses at Flannery's and boogalooed to good 'ol @ songs. And I'm sure most people have heard by now, but AIESEC US was started by Jacques Chirac. Looking forward to the next one...

I'm flattered, but... Engels... wtf???

3 days in training, and now back to the office. Such a strange feeling to see the backlogged e-mails.

Still feeling a bit choppy and disconnected with co-workers. Don't know why and how to get out of this strangeness.

But the most disconcerting feeling was when I read something again for the first time in a year. Somehow, the experience and the feelings had been tucked away. Feeling crummy. Disjointed. Guilt.

Some things never have closure. You move forward by living each day as it comes and being accountable for your decisions.

Where does one begin when speaking of Scotland? I started from the skirt up.

This post is already two months behind, but by no means stale in my mind. My short trip to Edinburgh was nothing short of fun. Quite short in the male bottom garment section. And plenty long in the list of things to do and enjoy.



Visiting Edinburgh was no coincidence. Kristina was studying at the University of Edinburgh, and Vishen happened to be in town that month. I strike again at (one of) the happy couple's abode. Vishen actually pointed out that I was probably the one guest who has visited them in all but one of their homes (didn't crash at their NY pad) - Berkeley, San Francisco, Kuala Lumpur, Estonia, Edinburgh. I'm just a household stalker.


Hop off a plane and what's the next thing you do? Head into town for the Edinburgh nightlife.


Streets of Edinburgh at night


And after a night of heavy drinking, one must try some Scottish brekkie! (Complete, with haggis). Actually, quite contrary to people's wild imaginations, I like haggis. Wait, wait - just don't tell me what it's made out of...


We had our Scottish breakfast at the Grassmarket area. Here's an interesting tale about this pub, Maggie Dickson's:

Legend has it, that Maggie Dickson was a fishmonger in 18 century Edingburgh, who left the city at the death of her late husband. She sojourned to the outskirts of Edinburgh and was eventually taken under the wing of a kind inn-keeper and her family. However, she got too close to the family, and eventually became pregnant with the inn-keeper's son. She left the baby in the woods to die, but was later discovered. This called for a hanging, and she was taken back to Edinburgh for a trial and sentenced to death. Things took a strange twist, however, when she survived the hanging and she started banging on the coffin during her burial. The court didn't know what to do with her, until someone suggested that if she came under trial and survived, it must be the will of God to have her live. So she survived and lived long in Edinburgh until her late years.

The pub was decorated with hanging skeletons, but done in good humor and honor to the legend.

Edinburgh Castle - ain't she a beaute? Kristina and Vishen live right in front of the castle. Totally prime location.


Um... yeah, I forgot what the name of this hill was. But I just remember it was fun. And kind of reminded me of Greece with the ionic columns?

As soon as night falls, we are creatures of habits. To the bar!

A curious gathering of AIESEC Alumni - Vishen, Heidi, Saki, Kristina


Ahh... nothing like a fresh mojito!

The historical (touristy) part of Edinburgh

Meet Bobby. He's (supposedly) the most photographed statue in Edinburgh. His loyalty to his owner earned him his very own statue. According to legend, Bobby was so loyal that he stayed with him... to the grave. Disney even has a film about him. (For Japanese people, it's easily equatable to Chuken Hachi-ko). But I guess the only important thing to note here is that I became a part of Scotland's statistic.


"Do you want a picture with William Wallace?"
"Um... okay. Sure, why the heck not?"

This man wears Braveheart costumes every day and poses with weapons in hand for tourists. He is collecting money for the leukemia fund in a unique way. Hollywood filmmakers even recognized what he is doing, so they donated the costumes from the set of Braveheart and Gladiator. I'm not sure what to think here, but William, Bob (Marley), and I seem to make great rebel fighters.

But what most intrigued me was that this man had an "arse that makes money." How's that? you may ask. Well, prior to having this photo taken, I bought a postcard of a man's leg with a tattoo on his upper thigh. I just happened to meet the model soon after - he even showed it to me, but tucked it away as soon as the cameras came out. "No, no. It's copyrighted. You can see, but you can't take pictures of it!" Yup, he has a copyrighted arse.

I've Got One Hand in My Pocket... and the other one's holding a Scotch


One pound and a 45 minute bus ride away, we came to the holy land. Who knew that there was a Scotch distillery in the burbs of Edinburgh?

I love factory tours - especially when it involves processing alcohol. Here, we have the malt mill, fermentation barrels, and the distiller. The amazing thing is, the main ingredients of beer and whiskey are the same. So, in fact, the super fermented vat of malt in the barrels (see: bubbling foam) is in fact a 10% alcohol content beer. Mmm... delicious frothy foam (if I were Homer Simpson, I would be swimming in the barrel, head first). And finally, the liquid goo is distilled in the distinctive metal distillers (every distillery uses a slightly different shape) into 80 proof Scotch.




Marina, Kristina, and I took the road less traveled (we were cheap tourists who wanted to walk the 2 miles from the bus stop to the Glenkinchie distillery). It was a beautiful, balmy day in the lowland countryside. And it's this lowland weather of dry winds and remoteness from the sea that makes the distinct flavor of lowland Scotch. Dry and light, the lowland Scotch uses less peat than the highland Scotch. (However, later on, I found that I favor the highland Scotch better due to its smoky sweetness from the peat, which is made near the saltwater).

One of my favorite anecdotes I take from this distillery is "the angel's share." Because single malt whisky has such a high alcohol percentage, only 10% of the alcohol actually make it to the consumers. The other 90%? They evaporate into the air while it is stored in the barrels, and people at the distillery believe that angels come visit to enjoy the spirit once in a while. I can only imagine that the angel traffic above the skies of Scotland must be pretty congested.


And now... for the tasting. Unlike Kristina, Marina and I were novice whisky drinkers with no real affinity to the "old man/yuppie" drink. Well, that's at least what I had in mind before trying Scotch at the distillery.

We were told to first taste the Scotch by itself. And then, add room temperature water 1:1 to "open up" the fragrance of the Scotch. Like a flower, the flavor and aroma of the liquor opens up with the touch of ambient temperature water. If it's too cold, it only tightens up and refuses to release its true potential. You can literally see the diffusion of the concentrated liquid in the glass, like a woman's hair unravelling in a slow current. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed drinking Scotch.

After trying a dozen or so, my tongue could tell apart the ones I liked and didn't like. The sweet, the salty, the harsh, the mellow, and the smokey. It was a beautiful feeling. We were floating on clouds and could smell the Scotch in our breaths. (some people might call it being drunk).

We chatted up the guide and the cashier, who said that the President of Estonia had visited the very distillery a month before. Marina and Kristina (the Estonians) were elated. The cashier even showed us a postcard from the President. We bought some Scotch at the store, and hailed a cab to the bus stop (who could walk 2 miles in the heat after that?).

And what do we do after a day of sipping good ol' Scotch?

Go to a posh bar to have some rose wine.


My memory fails me, but this was one of the most Eastern European looking bars in Edinburgh. A-ha! That must be why Kristina took us there.

With Vishen and Marina already gone, Kristina and I decided to take it easy the next day. We went on a hike to Arthur's Seat.

The hills and the rocks were a contrast to the English Midlands I was used to every day. It's a beautiful hike.


A view from the top, looking down at Edinburgh.

Unfortunately, my photo-taking skills were not enough to capture the architectural beauty and charm (e.g. - Royal Mile). Based on my crazy fun days I had, I would love to go back, and could even see Edinburgh as a city to "live in." Scotland - you're definitely up there in my list of favorite places I have visited!!!

Boredom is the vice of me. It's the return of the cubicle creature, and I swear I'm starting to grow the flesh-colored philangie-like hair and a diagonal tie, just like Dilbert.

It definitely depends on the workplace, but in the US facilities I have worked at, everyone is so frazzled and mind-your-own-beeswax that it's almost a sin to talk to them. Well, should it be? In reality, sharing ideas and letting out the daily guffaws are probably more productive than staring straight into the computer all the time. So why the cubicle cloisterness?

Today, a guy walked by and started a conversation out of the blue. Wow, is the ceiling falling down or something? I guess my pet peeve is that people are so busy that they have little interaction with each other, and therefore, puts them in a bad mood vibe. A vicious cycle, really. Happy people are more energetic and can exute a lot more productivity and willingness into their work. At least I believe so.

It's not that people in my workplace are unhappy or unproductive. I just sense that the US work culture makes people feel obligated to work hard, even to a point that they feel pride in being overworked. No pain, no gain? I must object, your honor.

But of course, if I'm the one complaining, I should be the one breaking the chain. Time to get out the clown shoes and water balloons.