Made in Japan, Outsourced Globally

It's getting a tad old... I can't seem to stay healthy here in Paris. I was just getting over my cold (which I suspect was strep throat). But now, I have the stomach flu (or perhaps it was the salmon?) and have been bedridden all day and can't be too far from the bathroom for more than 30min. I have enough meds in my house to start a pharmacy of my own.

I started noticing that nobody in Paris seems to be healthy. There's lots of coughing and most people have the sniffles. Recycling of germs, anybody?

Rarrrr... I just want to be healthy. Is that too much to ask in the developed world??? (oh, the irony).

Before I start posting some Paris adventures (which hasn't really happened yet), I have some lingering feelings about Illinois. It was a nice little visit back to the burbs - a change of pace from a sleepy English countryside or a crazy-dizzy city life.


BG has been my sugar daddy of home furniture. He's like a big teddybear. He was the first one to greet me and the last to see me go. It was so nice to see him again and to finally meet his woman. And a brief encounter with Scottie, who is guiding the international youth in Michigan. A scary thought ;)


The happy couple & the Boilers bro's. It's been real nice to see Shar & Izzy. And Jeffrey... Chicago wouldn't have been such an exceptional experience without him.


Izzy still has the bathrobe he "borrowed" from the hotel in Milwaukee.

And then there was Halloween in Madison, which is like a rites of passage at one point in life. I'll leave it at that.


And some new faces, like Happy, here with the huge plate of cous cous. Funny enough, I knew her but had never met her. That's the beauty of the Aiesec network. You eventually meet people you have heard about.


And getting to spend some time with Dad in Chicago a few days before I left. It's nice getting some father-daughter time. It's bound to happen when we're both jetting across different places all the time. I can't wait till mom & dad can come out to Europe.


And the last photo in Illinois. I used to come to this library all the time.

Here it goes again...

I'm heading out to the Czech Republic in early March (around 8th-11th). If there are people I should meet in Prague, please let me know! :)

(I have already received a nice welcome from Mart'a ;-)

We snuck out of the huddled crowd at the airport, dodging the military soldiers. The little boy and I were against the current, and bus-loads of people arrived to the airport, all with nervous looks on their faces. They looked famished, weather-beaten, and most of all, terrified.

Hot, sweaty, and dirty, we crouched in the alley-way and ran through a sugar cane field towards the mansion. We leave most of our belongings next to an abandoned row of bicycles and mopeds. I leave behind the dirty napsack with my worldly possessions and white Nike sneakers, which are too obvious for our secretive mission.

Unlike the dingy straw huts along the fields, the palace was gated and made of marble -- out of place in the provincial scenery. The white marble felt cool on our bare feet as we pitter-pattered down the hallway.

We could hear the guards approaching, clicking their heels in sync and proudly displaying their rifles on their shoulders -- a weapon they would not think twice on firing if they wanted to unleash it on a civilian. In fright, we hide in a room. A dark bedroom chamber with silk sheets and a portrait of the leader - nay, the dictator - at the head of the bed. We hid under the sheets in futile attempt to deceive the guards. The door opens, but the guards squabble and commands are exchanged. We sigh in relief.

The little boy was trying to get something important out of the palace -- I forget what. But we somehow return to where we left our belongings. My sneakers are gone. We collect nerves and continue our journey back to the airport, where all the other refugees are. We cannot miss that flight, for it may be the last.

We could see the buses and the crowds 100m away. But that's when the guards pull us by the collar, and we are suddenly caught...

... And that's when I woke up -- back in the free world. But the dream lingers vividly in my senses. I could smell the incense in the palace, the fresh blades of grass, sweat, and burning cow-dung in the distance. The dirt roads beneath my bare feet, the percipitation filling my lungs, and the sun burning flesh. It could have been Pyonyang or Rangoon, I don't know. But while I was there, I knew I wasn't free.

Labels: Dream

“Hello, I would like a wake-up call at 7am.”
“Yes, madam. And when would you like your second call?”
“Hmm... 7:15?"

What a wonderful service. They know how people function in the morning.

The setting is elegant, the food is delicious, and the rooms are modern. The Hyatt goes in style all around the world (but nothing beats drinking a six-pack and watching “The Beach” with a Rat at the Hyatt in Hong Kong ;) ).

Well, I made it to the other side of the Atlantic. I'm seeing things with rose colored windows.

But I'm in a bit of a lame mode. I still haven't made it to any famous Parisian places yet because I'm either busy settling in or going to work. To be fair, though, the Aiesec network is like the instant noodle of friends. I met up with a bunch of internationals in an OZ bar (in fact, I think that's what it was called – “OZ Bar”) and boogalooed until 6am last weekend. Ukrainian, Dutch, Turkish, Filipino, Indian, Peruvian, Russian, Canadian (a Quebecois) --- it makes me wonder if I will make any French acquaintances.

Hmm... must start thinking about traveling. I'm going to be in the Czech Republic in March (still haven't been to Prague either), and possibly Germany and the Netherlands. I need to cover new territories. Socially, I've had offers from Bulgaria and Egypt so far. And of course, su casa mi casa - I live in prime location in the heart of Paris :)