My home from Sept. 2007

Earlier in the week I received an email from LSE informing me of my residence assignment. It feels great to know where I'll be living next year! It is located in the southeastern part of London, and is about a 35 minute walk to the school. Being near London Bridge, there are many buses available nearby, and upon further research I found out that used bikes are around 50 pounds. So I'll be taking the bus on rainy days, and the bike on fairer days.

This is what my bedroom would look like, minus the ugly curtain. The picture only faces the window, but the room includes a mini-fridge, a full closet by the door, and a personal bathroom (toilet, shower, and sink). I would be sharing a kitchen with 2-7 other people. I don't know where I would keep my rice cooker and my dishes, though; I hope there are separate storage places for everyone to keep their food and belongings in the kitchen area.

A step closer to London.
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Homemade gnocchi

Ingredients - Serves 4
250g potatoes
60g flour
0.5 egg
salt
6 asparagus stems
300g shaved parmesiano cheese

Gnocchi:
1. Mash potatoes: boil peeled potatoes until soft and evaporate all water.
2. In bowl, add some salt and egg to potato; mix evenly.
3. Add flour.
4. Knead dough and roll out to 1 cm thickness.
5. Chop into bite-size.
6. Boil gnocchi and chopped asparagus in slightly salted water. Strain water when gnocchi rises to surface.

Sauce:
1. Boil cream in saucepan until half its amount.
2. Add salt.
3. Add gnocchi and asparagus.
4. Throw in shaved parmesiano cheese, mix quickly.

Picture courtesy of A.M. Volpi.
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Life is a moving image.

...life is a moving image, unfolding and changing beyond our control. Despite our desire to freeze a moment or to go back into the past and alter events, time presses us forward.

Thus states in the afterword to The Memory Keeper's Daughter. The book was a grounding one, telling a story of how little control we have over ourselves and the world that we live in. Yet at the same time, this story of life's uncontainable chaos was also a story about the things we do have control over, and all the consequences of our momentous decisions.

Selective moments of the book left me in a restless unease, because Edwards is so emotionally vivid. Essentially she tells the story from the perspectives of all parties involved: their reasons, their feelings, and their logic. Told in this matter, everyone's actions and words made sense in their own ways. Many a times I caught myself thinking, "Oh, but s/he did that because..."

Several characters in the book fear life's unpredictability, and despise those who are so sure of everything because it makes them uncomfortable. Part of me stood in constant empathy with these characters, who expect the worst-case scenario all the time. To them--and to me--life is indeed about the difficulties and agonies rooted in its inconsistencies. Too often we turn a blind eye to all the goodness and beauty that prevail around us, and thus fail to take into account that hardship is but only half of life and never its entirety.

These characters are hence balanced by others who revel in life's perpetually changing nature. Needless to say, these characters were always ones to point out that things need not be so sad and difficult all the time. The relationships between these two types of characters varied. Some played off each other so that both parties grew stronger and gained, in the end, a greater and fuller perspective. Others, on the other hand, only made it difficult for each other. Fearing the worst, a reminder that life can only be only underscored worries, while these endless worries simply drove the other to wonder if there was even a joyous future awaiting them.

I was moved. Reading the book gave me a glimpse of things I knew about but did not acknowledge, like the consequences of dwelling in a single event for a prolonged period of time. This thing we call life is so uncontrollable, inconceivable in its greatness, and filled with unpredictability. One can barely call it organized chaos. But to be stuck in one moment that inevitably passes by means we shut out all that is beautifully changing--the key element that truly keeps us going--and we forget how to move on. Emotions are powerful--in its best moments they are uplifting and make us feel alive; and in its worst moments they are simply blinding. And none of this is probably within anyone's control.

So what do we do? We just keep on truckin', don't we? We try not to get too caught up in the details and try to give various forms of sadness a positive spin, so we can stay sane, at peace, and as content as can be. There just isn't an answer out there to the question, "How should we live life?" I mean, I haven't found any and no one that I know has, either. We just do. And it just keeps going. It changes and moves and we change and move with it, sometimes against it, other times completely separate from it. Vivacious time just pushes us along, in its most merciless, graceful way.

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"Japan is a weird country."

More than once I have heard these words spoken. It is understandable: this country's people are known for their apparent kindness and politeness, as well as their efficiency. Its capital city is a host to buildings soaring high above the clouds, and its culture encompasses everything from ancient Buddhist shrines and gold-tinted pavilions to easily accessible porn sold side-by-side with morning newspapers. This country places on the fringes of society, men and women of all ages who obsess over anime figurines and have thus created a super-subculture of otaku that transcends national boundaries. Some--well, enough--are so caught up in living apart from their real lives, that "Maid Cafes" and alternate economies in the cybersphere (using real currency!) have found a huge market. While the country's infatuation with ethnic homogeneity has been criticized by the international community as being fundamentally racist, paradoxically, it is indeed this homogeneity that has fertilized its rich culture, beckoning flocks of foreigners to its land every year.

Japan is a weird country and there is no denying it. In the eyes of the rest of the world, it is weird in an eccentric way. It is weird, they say, but rich and beautiful and totally unique. They think of geisha girls and extravagant kimonos, the large, red torii gates, the samurai, sushi, endless cuisine, and uber-advanced technology on the one hand, and the Shibuya/Harajuku girls who stand at the forefront of international fashion, on the other. Unfortunately, most do not stop to observe the rotting elements of Japanese society. There is no birth-rate to be spoken of; it simply does not exist (actually, it has improved, but still). Young adults and children are thus seen as the hope of Japan's future, and yet one by one they are disappearing because of brutal bullying (ijime) that take place in schools and end only with the victim's suicide. Its education system is in shambles, with kids learning less and less kanji every year because their parents believe it is "too hard for them." Students who continue on, but fail entrance exams take their lives, believing that no happy future could possibly await them after such a failure.

Japanese society itself is rotting from its very roots; it is sickened and slowly dying. The by-products of this disintegration--horribly unaccounted for, too--are people who know no limits, who believe that their fucked up family and upbringing, or all the familial and societal pressures that they feel, can justify any immoral act.

But all of this is not so apparent to the world beyond Japanese boundaries. Everyone sees that this country has few petty crimes--at least what is noticeable--and therefore conclude it to be safe. In many ways, it is--you can be in the city without being mugged, things you lose in the city will almost always be found without anything being stolen, and you can walk around the city at night and be at ease. Yet, anyone who now lives in Japan will know that Japan is dangerous in a very different manner. As witnesses to extensive cases of murder of the most extreme kinds on a daily basis, one should be encouraged to think twice about what Japan really is.

A 22 year-old British girl was murdered this week in Chiba prefecture. She worked for NOVA, one of many English-conversation schools established in Japan. The man who killed her was a 28 year-old man and he is still on the run. You can read about her story on IHT and BBC. Needless to say, her family and her boyfriend are all devastated.

I cannot but be completely struck by this case. Partially because we are of the same age group, partially because her long-distance with her boyfriend parallels my own, but mostly because so many of my own friends are currently working as English teachers throughout East and South East Asia. "We though Japan was safe, a good society," said her father in last night's press conference. Indeed, Japan's safe environment was certainly something for the nation to be proud of. But, it should no longer be taken for granted. No, yellow fever and hepatitis may not be rampant in this country, and your wallet might not be stolen while you walk in its streets, but you make connections with the wrong people and they will end up killing you. "Wrong people" doesn't necessarily denote people with drug addictions, people involved in drug trafficking, or people involved in gangs or the yakuza. These "wrong people" are barely identifiable as such; they are immersed in their own world and believe that all their actions are justifiable. They are the unaccounted by-products of Japan's recent social disintegration.

I am thoroughly ashamed of this place whose apparent politeness and cultural beauty has masked everything that lies beneath. This place is not much safer than any other place in the world; perhaps it is a lot worse in some ways.

My deepest condolences lie with the family and friends of L. H.
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At the heart of Japan

And it begins!

It wouldn't be an understatement to say that every Japanese citizen looks forward to this moment when all the cherry blossom trees throughout the country begin to bloom in light shades of pink. You can literally feel everyone's energies beginning to rise, as people of all ages stroll through parks and narrow roads just to view the flowers. People are so excited about the bloomings, in fact, that parties will be organized amongst workers of every company, every office, and every establishment. These parties, called ohana-mi (litearlly, "flower-viewing"), take place under blossomed cherry trees--mainly in parks, but the occasional, desperate party might take place on roadside--and are accompanied by exorbitant amounts of food, liquor, and portable karaoke machines. As you can imagine, this is serious party time for the normally workaholic Japanese.

Since many of you reading this will not be able to experience first-hand this wonderful time of year in Japan when everyone turns into a calorie-consumptive, beauty-stricken diva-alcoholic, I've posted below some pictures of cherry trees near my parents' house. Perhaps you too can join the Japanese population and take in this great beauty via cyberspace, and of course, indulge!

>The main dish: the cherry blossom.





For those who are interested in seeing this 'live', check out the Hanami Webcam!
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I want a cat!

>Courtesy of Heart of England Cat Club.

This morning a sudden desire to have a cat came over me. Not just any cat, but the Russian Blue. I met one once, and she was a very calm, chilled, and friendly cat. Typically it has a blue coat and green eyes. Nice.

Maybe I'll get a cat in London.
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Earthquakes!

It's spring break and I am currently in an NHK studio filtering submitted comments on the webpage of the Spring High School Baseball Championships. Around 9:45am, the live baseball programme cut out and was replaced by an emergency broadcast of an earthquake in Ishikawa prefecture of M7.1. This earthquake was followed immediately by a tsunami warning, telling citizens who were near the coastline to evacuate immediately. What was most impressive was that within seconds, they showed on TV the estimated arrival time of the tsunami, and its size: 9:50am, 50cm.

Thus, residents had 5 minutes to evacuate, and could expect a maximum rise in tide of 50cm. How crazy is that!!

Ever since the Kobe and Hokkaido earthquakes in the late 1990's, Japan has buffed up their earthquake notification system, as well as strengthening all its buildings. They take it so seriously that architects and real estate agencies who fail to follow the earthquake-resistant building codes have been punished stringently by the Supreme Court. Times like these Japan impresses me.
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Cream stew: the Japanese version

Best served on a hot bowl of rice, or if you prefer, a toasted piece of french bread. Stews and curries are relatively easy to make here, because the main ingredient--the sauce--comes prepackaged, and all you really have to do is cut up the veggies and meat. A simple recipe for cream stew, Japanese style, follows:

Ingredients - Serves 2
Half a box of stew sauce 'cubes'
1 small onion
Half a carrot
2 small potatoes
1 Chicken breast (or sliced pork, etc.), bite-sized
2.5 cups (500 cc) of water
0.5 cups (100 cc) of milk

1. Find the sauce packaging in an Asian food store (see photo).
2. Cut carrots, potatoes, onions, and a choice of meat.
3. Stir-fry carrots, potatoes, onions, then meat, in that order.
4. When potatoes are half-cooked, pour in water.
5. When potatoes are cooked, turn off heat, and throw in sauce cubes.
6. Let cubes dissolve, turn on the heat, and add milk.
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Hot and REALLY sweaty!

Last night, I stepped into my very first session of Hot Yoga. Being a newbie, we participated in an 1 hour 'short-course' that slowly took the yoginis through pranayama (breathing) exercises and a little under 20 poses. The studios are normally just below 40 degrees Celsius, but I don't know if this one was that hot.

But really, don't get me wrong, it was HOT! In fact, it probably was around 40 degrees in that room. My friend and I arrived at the studio about 30 minutes before class, and were allowed into the hot room 15 minutes before class. By the time class actually started, sweat was beading on my forehead and all over my arms and legs. 10 minutes into class, I was sweating and sweating and sweating. We were encouraged to drink over a litre of water during the session, but it was literally as if I were a water container with holes all over. If you could imagine that (I know, it's kind of gross; apologies for the details).

The good sign was that I wasn't struggling at all. Due to knee surgery last February, my right half of the body is totally tight, and I know better than to force it to become flexible right away. The lack of flexibility, however, has caused by pelvis to be crooked to the point where it is causing some painful problems in my lower back. Recently, with my routine solo Ashtanga-yoga in my room, the pain has slowly ceased. Yoga is about letting that ego to be 'great' go, listening to what your body 'says', and just letting things be. Really, that is my favorite part of yoga.

I came out of the studio drenched, but I felt so good afterwards that I took up a 5-class membership at the studio. For some reason yoga classes here cost a lot of money. At my yoga studio in Vancouver, it was $15/week for unlimited classes. Here, it cost me $140 for 5 classes (you can choose what classes to take). In London, it looks as though a monthly pass costs between £85 - £100 (don't be fooled; that's about $200+), depending on the studio, so about the same as here. My favorite so far is Yoga Junction, which is a bit on the pricey side but looks nice, and Sivananda Yoga, which offers an unlimited monthly pass for £63 (closer to the Vancouver market price). I wonder why the prices are so different between Vancouver and Tokyo/London.

In any case, hot yoga is great. I am totally hooked.
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"An encyclopedia should be radical."

> Mr. Jimmy Wales, founder of Wikimedia Foundation.

Jimmy Wales, the founder of Wikipedia and Wikia, started his presenation in the new theatre with the statement, "An encyclopedia should be radical." This statement was indeed the founding statement of the free encyclopedia that more than a billion users all across the globe have access to today.

He spoke about how the Wiki Foundation works, the functions of the Wikipedia, and how much it has grown over the past few years. What interested me most about his presentation was the growing and expanding connection between languages, cultures, and the global(izing) network. Wales suspects--and on many levels, I agree--that in the next decade we will be witnesses to a radical, "cultural shift," where an additional billion people will come online to join the internet community. These people are the people in current developing countries who do not have adequate internet access to make use of what Wikipedia (or what the internet as a whole) has to offer. In the next decade, 'these people', whom we only hear about in CNN and BBC when a catastrophe occurs, are exactly those people we will hear directly from--in their words, of their thoughts, of their lives.

> Wikipedia as a radical encyclopedia

Wikipedia today boasts 1,000 articles in 128 languages, and its aim is to have 250,000 articles in over 300 languages worldwide. I didn't even know 300+ languages existed, but hell, Wales dreams big. He dreams of free access to knowledge on the truest standards, where people are free to copy, modify, and redistribute information commericially or non-commericially. This is "free" in every sense of the word, and it is great, but it also brings to the forefront those who question Wikipedia's contents for its accuracy. Even here, I often hear teachers placing an unofficial, but definitely outspoken, ban on the use of Wikipedia, and in fact, the school's IP address has been blocked by the Wiki administrators for our students' perpetual, adolscent vandalism.

"Vandalism of articles don't last long on the Wikipedia," Wales laughed. His adminstrators are constantly monitoring changes of all types--the useful, harmful, humourous, and the scandalous. To show how accurate Wikipedia could be--and in fact, how inaccurate other well-accepted sources could be--Wales gave a telling example of a project that British magazine of scientific prestige, Nature published on 29 March 2006. The article (access to subscribers only) titled "Britannica attacks (...and we respond)" concluded that, according to 50 experts of various scientific fields who surveyed 50 articles of similar length from both Encyclopedia Britannica and Wikipedia, Britannica articles contained an average of 3 errors per article, while Wikipedia articles contained an average of 4 errors per article. Statistic shmatistics, but that should still say a lot. Viva free knowledge! I say.

The Wiki Foundation, indeed, runs on a sort of motto that questions how information today is distributed by whom, and it is now seeking to manifest this political statement by launching "Wikiasari," a wiki-search engine, this year. Labeled by Fast Company in its most recent issue as Google's Worst Nightmare, Wales challenges the editorial statement made by modern search engines that 'hide' how their searches were produced. He, in turn, seeks to bring some transparency in the searching process itself. As The New York Times recently stated,

The Wikia search engine would allow users to see how the results were generated and modify those rankings using their own knowledge of the Internet. Any changes could be reversed by a different user, and, as in Wikipedia, long discussions could ensue over the decisions.

Today, he revealed his initial forecast: "It's going to suck, at least for the first little while." But I think the demand is definitely there, considering the cult-like following he had in the theatre today.

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Residence!!!

LSE!! Where am I living?? Why won't you tell me!
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Now, the sunshine of my days here..

My 7th grade girl's basketball team!

Sorry, I've been meaning to write something here for a week but I just don't have anything to write about. I have yet to introduce to you the girls I coach, so here it is..

The girls arrived at the first practice fully pumped; understandably, as they had just finished two days of their first-ever try-outs. I don't think there was much drama, but I could've cared less anyway, considering you have to draw the line somewhere! And boy, were they excited, because they ALL came in with a new pair of basketball shoes. I was so impressed, both by their spirit, their enthusiasm, and their quality shoes.

They are just beginning to learn the game: how screens/picks work, how to shoot with the left, how to play their position, how to handle the ball... all the necessary basics of basketball. It is so much fun to show them how it works, although sometimes frustrated, because you just have to keep telling them over and over and over again. This team stands right on the fence, however. The 8th grade team is fully serious, and their coach is getting them ready for high school basketball; the C-team, on the other hand, are drilling the basics and the coaches make sure it is enjoyable. My team sits between these two extremes; some girls are ready to work their butts off, and others, still unsure about their personal potential as a basketball player. Plus, they are still 7th graders at the end of the day, and can be airy and unfocused at times. I tell myself it is all about trying to strike a balance.

In other aspects of life general, I'm preparing for a 6-class module on terrorism that begins after spring break, in April. Jimmy Wales, the founder of Wikipedia, will be visiting the school next Thursday because his wife is an alum of this school. So, more to come on that later.
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Lack of energy..

I don't have much energy. I wander aimlessly through the halls at work, in hopes that something exciting pops up in front of me. Or if I'm in my room sitting, I stare into computer screens, at the scattered papers on my desk, or into a book and twirl a pen. If I'm not doing either of those, then I'm purposely piling jobs and tasks onto my days and very quickly filling up my daily schedule, down to every minute from 8 a.m. to 7 p.m., sometimes 8 or 9. God knows if I'll ever be motivated to do any of it, but I don't care - I don't care if I succeed or fail anymore, and the only thing that matters is that time is passing, however slowly it may be. Then I sporadically think, This must be what it's like to be dying, to feel the draining of both will and energy from the body.

Twice I am caught staring into space, and with someone standing beside me, asking questions. All the readings that I'd said I'd do, all the pre-research tasks I've assigned myself, all the self-teaching I scheduled for myself, I have not done. I don't want to touch any of it because I feel like they are tainted by a time I don't want to be reminded of. If I touch it, it will take over me and then I will really be unfunctional. And I have to function, to complete the minimal amount of tasks. It has almost been a week and all I can get myself to do is breathe.
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Re-reading with hindsight

In a recent conversation with Al, I recalled my thesis defense in April 2006. It was not very good. My thesis, titled Bodily Stones: The Human Body, Architecture, and Urbanism in Fascist Italy, examined the Fascist conception of their ideal human body through built environments. The examiners (one of whom didn't like me at all the whole year and held quite a strong jurisdiction over my final grade; and my thesis advisor was not present due to family matters, which definitely sucked) stated that it would have been better and definitely better-suited for publication if 1) I came up with my own 'definition' of Italian Fascism and not used Roger Griffin's; and 2) I had gone in depth about the body politic.

Having experienced an hour and a half of trauma, I put away my thesis and even thought about deleting the files off my computer, forever gone and extinguished from my hard drive. I touched the word files only when I really had to, like when one of my referees for my graduate school application wanted to read it. I cringed at the request, suggesting that it was much too long and implying that it wasn't very good. He insisted, and I gave in. I later received a copy of his recommendation letter, which stated that my thesis was "an impressive piece of work for an undergraduate. It is the equivalent of a master's thesis in terms of the amount of work that went into it. The arguments are complex and nuanced. It is not often to have an undergraduate who can master theoretical literature on a topic like fascism and the body and have the courage and persistance to write at such length." It was very nice of him, but I hesitate to accept his compliments whole-heartedly. I remember that by the end of the writing process I was desperate to get it done and have that thing out of my hands. My brain was fried and I could no longer piece together any more arguments. I wasn't even sure if my conclusion, which even in hindsight seems quite half-assed and weak and not to mention cheap, made any sense at all.

Well, it's been almost a year since my traumatic experience in the defense room, and I decided that despite my irrational fears of reading a horrible work written by myself, I would take up the challenges posed by the defense board. To be accurate, just one of the two, because I didn't think their first one was fair, considering that numerous academicians and theorists over decades and decades have attempted (and often failed) to define accurately the nature of Italian Fascism, and there are probably a whole slew of Ph.D. students out there in the world now trying to come up with a workable definition. I might be a keener and a nerd but I know my academic limits and so I refuse to take up that particular challenge.

I went online today and looked up what they meant by body politic. Turns out, it is an old analogy used before the advent of the Scientific Revolution and Darwinian evolutionary theory that views the human body as a microcosm to the state. A good example is the Leviathan by Hobbes, in which the functions of the state are explained through the metaphor of a human body. At the end of this particular encyclopedic entry, the author states that the analogy was pretty much destroyed by the development of the new sciences, and the materialization of the social contract. How would I have made use of a destroyed analogy?

This question led me to grab my printed thesis and re-read the massive thing. Having read the introductory chapter and the first chapter so far, my conclusion is that it's not half bad. There are a few formatting mistakes, and I don't really like the font. I can also see how it could have been a little bit more clearer, but I do insistently drive my argument home, to the point where it is almost redundant. But, at least the argument is clear. And as for the application of the body politic theory, I can also see why the examiners would have mentioned that idea, because I claim that the Fascists saw importance in defining the individual body--the 'building blocks' of the Italo-Fascist civilization--because its definition underscored the nature of the entire civilization. Indeed, the Fascist human body was seen as a microcosm of the whole. But really, that's all the idea of the body politic would have taken me and it serves no further analytical purpose. I thus justify my non-use of the body politic analogy. Phew.

My abrupt desire to re-read my undergraduate thesis was also motivated by my anxiety over what I would write for my graduate thesis. The Department of Government at LSE is hosting an online discussion forum to faciliate friendly discussion with would-be classmates. Our first postings were introductory, and everyone else seemed to have an idea of what they wanted to focus on. I, on the other hand, am still trying to catch up on international relations theory, the primary functions of international law, understand why the UN doesn't work the way it ideally should, and fill in the numerous gaps to my 20th century world history. I'm interested in how multiethnicity and multiculturalism can be negotiated and made a part of international society without always causing violent conflict. I'm interested in the issues revolving around global environmentalism, and how, in the course of building an international society, it can also be built to be environmentally sustainable. I'm interested in how the roles of diplomats can be innovated to meet the requirements of this globalizing world. So basically, there are so many things I'm interested in, and I can already tell that my vast and still-expanding academic interests are going to be a gianormous problem when I have to finally decide what to write for my graduate thesis, because it was a gianormous problem when I had to decide my topic for my undergraduate thesis.

I have to focus. And yet, I do not know how or on what.
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In an effort to restructure my daily life..

I came up with a daily 'schedule' of sorts to keep myself busy in the immediate days after Al leaves Tokyo. In the past two months, my evenings and weekends were occupied, taking Al around, eating out, or just hanging around at home and watching a movie. With him leaving, however, it empties out my evenings and weekends, especially when I don't have any middle school basketball games to coach. Thus..

Mondays: 3-5 Afterschool help/Tutor; 5-7 Gym/Pool
Tuesdays: 3-5 Basketball; 5-6 Yoga
Wednesdays: 3-4 Tutor; 4-6 Girl's Soccer; 6-7 Pool
Thursdays: 3-5 Basketball; 5-6 Yoga
Fridays: 3-5 Basketball; 5-6 Gym
Saturdays: Morning Yoga

In addition, I plan on studying an hour of Spanish, an hour of economics, and an hour of IR every night--this should put me at around 10pm to go to bed. I think I'll start adding brown rice into my diet, more fruit, no junk. I also need to get back into practicing for my auditions again.

This should keep me busy for a while.

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Photos!

Finally they are available for viewing! Check out my flickr site for a full range of photos from the charity event!
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I'm a Counselor-Idealist

While printing a series of recent periodicals on international relations theory, inter-Asian relations, and the legacies of the Cold War, I took a personality test--the Myers-Briggs personality test--for fun. It claimed that I was a Counselor-Idealist, someone who thinks in terms of ethical values and morals, and look to maintain and improve the welfare of others. We Counselor-Idealists, unfortunately, constitute only 2% of the total population.

Besides being a true introvert--"who can only be emotionally intimate and fulfilled with a chosen few from among their long-term friends, family, or obvious 'soul mates'"--and difficult to get to know, Counselor-Idealists have intricate, complex, and thus mysterious personalities that often surprises others. This is, however, not to say that we are inconsistent; on the contrary, we value our integrity, and it is just that we find it hard to reveal the entirety of us all at once. We are apparently also very good writers (right).

Furthermore, we are 'mind-readers', in the sense that we are often keenly aware of other's thoughts and sentiments before such are verbally expressed:

Counselors have strong empathic abilities and can become aware of another's emotions or intentions--good or evil--even before that person is conscious of them. This 'mind-reading' can take the form of feeling the hidden distress or illnesses of others to an extent which is difficult for other types to comprehend. Even Counselors can seldom tell how they came to penetrate others' feelings so keenly. [...] [Counselor-Idealists] readily grasp the hidden psychological stimuli behind the more observable dynamics of behavior and affect.

As a result, we are not easily fooled by others and are always questioning the motivations of those around them.

Pretty true? Perhaps.

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One day..

This summer I am visiting Peru to do a 4-day hike up Machu Picchu. Al and I booked a tour with the same company Colleen and Gemma had booked through last summer; they said they had a great time and enjoyed themselves very much, so we figured their experience was a good sign. I adjusted my half-around-the-world flights so that I fly out of Tokyo on 7 August, arrive in Lima on the same day, from where I would take a flight to Cusco on 8 August. I would leave Lima for Washington D.C. via Miami on 17 August, and leave for Heathrow International on 17 September. Tokyo - Lima - D.C. - London. That's a fair amount of traveling, right?

But, in my most honest moments, I feel that it really isn't enough. If it were not for my parents' full objection and my lack of total financial independence from them for my graduate school expenses, I would have taken up the backpacking trip through Chile, Bolivia, and Peru in an instant. And I was almost on my way to New Zealand this March, but this didn't happen either because of the amount of cash it required. And I am SO envious of my friend Sarah who is travelling to India this month. If only, if only!

Conclusion? (Lack of) Money sucks balls.

I digress. My point is that traveling in order to live within different cultural environs is a secret, and thoroughly restrained, desire--perhaps an obsession?--of mine that has only been sporadically appeased. If I hadn't been accepted to any of the graduate programmes, my back-up plan was to apply for a job teaching at an international school in Guatemala--what a life I would've lived there! I have not a clue as to how I convinced my worrisome mother into letting me travel alone to Italy at the age of 18, but I did, and it was wonderful. So wonderful that, I took up the Italian language in university and used Italy as a focus topic in most of my studies. My decision to go to Canada for my undergraduate degree, in hindsight, seems like one based on the fact that I would live 4 years in another country.

Somedays I wish that I were able to drop everything and all my responsibilities to go around the world and become a photojournalist. As if this idea hadn't been thought of before! My current desires lie in a trip from Moscow to Beijing via Mongolia on the Trans-Siberian Railway. But really, when could I do such a trip? I couldn't do it anytime this year. It would have to come after I finish obtaining my MSc degree from LSE, perhaps on my way back to Tokyo from London--it is cheaper to do that than to fly. How awesome would that be!

I just want out of this place. And what the hell, if I'm coming back to Tokyo ever again, I'll do it via Russia and Mongolia.
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A splashful afternoon

Apparently we raised $1,000. At the start of the event, we had raised about $500 so the final number came to me by surprise.

The donations collected from the charity event, called Mustang Splash!--named after our school mascot--was for Dr. Tadashi Hattori, who devotes his time and money in providing eye surgeries and care for those without the funds to do so in Vietnam. Apparently he was also awarded an appreciation letter from the Japanese Embassy in Vietnam not too long ago. The 5th grade classes in the elementary school headed a project called the "Global Responsibility Prize," in which they chose someone in the world who lived by the school vision: Developing compassionate, inquisitive learners prepared for global responsibility. Dr. Hattori was the chosen candidate.

The event went well. A few hiccups at the beginning, because there was quite a large mass of elementary school kids running around, and it was the first time that these high school kids who were working with me would experience moving masses of people through a system, but all in all I think it was a great experience for them and most of them enjoyed doing it. We had to get some Varsity swimmers to swim for teams as they were lacking swimmers, and some of them really didn't like that, but I guess that's the nature of high school kids; Al put it well enough: "That's what they do. They don't enjoy themselves in any school setting." I will upload some photos from the event as soon as I can on my flickr site.

**Postscript**
I suppose I could've made the event a simpler set-up. I could've advertised, "Open Donations for Open Swim Time. Pool's open until 5pm." Or even, "Diving Contest!! Bet for the biggest Cannonball!!" But, alas, no. The event was a full-fledged relay party complete with heats and race times and registration tables and even marshal areas. I had 6 high school students working with me, putting together promotion efforts and creating signage and on the day of, managing a huge mass of people--kids, to be perfectly accurate. At the end of it all, when I finally arrived home and sat down to reflect, the first question on my mind was, "Was that really necessary?"

When I worked for REC at U of BC, this question was never asked because I was hired by an organization to do the work. But here and now, the logistics of Mustang Splash!! was something I just came up with, and no one--well, save the head coach who did not (and does not) know how to trust others to do their work--really stopped me or the kids from pursuing our 'big plan'. What really triggered me into questioning the event's necessity was the attitude of some adults present at the event that this was their doing because it was their idea and they just adored themselves in the spotlight of things. At that moment a certain skepticism came over me, and I questioned the 100+ hours of preparation work that went into putting the thing together, and whether this emotional distress from knowing that certain people considered the event to be their--and wholly their--achievement was worth it. I have yet to arrive at a satifactory answer.

Additionally, I felt like doing something upsetting or destructive like spilling coffee over a white, freshly-ironed shirt (that is quite truly upsetting on Tuesday mornings) when I read an email that thanked all the faculty and staff involved in the preparation and/or participated in the event. I was sick to the stomach to see that, in this mass school email, there was no mention of the kids who helped put it all together--no, that would apparently take place during practice today and I was to "[h]elp [her] think of good word choices tomorrow to put a positive spin on everything they did today." And how many faculty and staff were out there who helped put this together? There can't be that many because I never saw a single adult face in any of my planning meetings. Support, yes; energy, yes--and we were totally grateful for that. But planning and execution? Absolutely not. Those were the kids and they deserve a mention, and definitely something more than in a mass-email.

Some people make me sick.
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NEW - the fiasco artier

Completely out of pure boredom, I decided to create another blog completely devoted to academics. It is titled, the fiasco artier. There is not much to say about the title, but that it was a difficult decision made between it and "The Fiasco Rhyme-Riot Trio" and "The Fiesta Mayor Choir." The final call was made on the idea that the shorter it was, the better.

You see, a few posts ago I said something about giving U.S. history a second chance. If you know me at all, I despise U.S. history because it was so boring when I was forced to take it in high school. But when I opened the late AP U.S. history textbook, I realized that I have to take notes. I have this habit of not being able to learn unless I take notes, but I didn't want to take notes via handwriting, and I didn't want to bring my laptop to work everyday, so I decided to make it web-based and the logical conclusion was, of course, to create another blog. Don't know how long this one will last, but the last time I claimed that I wouldn't last 3 days, I proved myself wrong by continuing for almost a year, and besides, no one reads it anyway, so who cares. Additionally, this will come into good use when I start my thesis for my MSc.
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Just a space-holder entry.

Because, not much has been going on. I've been working hard on putting together the final details and such to Mustang Splash 2007. The task is not made any easier when you are working with other 'older' adults who seem to have a hard time at letting things take their place, knowing that you can't possibly control everything, and that sometimes you need to trust other people to do their job. The last trait is not often found amongst adults anyway, and it's not like I was born with that trait either (and I still can't, sometimes), so I understand that it's difficult to just 'let go'. I just gotta say though, it's quite tiring when I have to repeat myself over and over again, answer the same questiosn, and go through all the planning and the details of the event--for the third time!!--because it takes a long time to explain it all. Each time I give a more succinct, if not simply 'cut down' version of it. Well, I guess this is what it's like to work in The Real World.

Al and I have been trying to fit in little excursions within and beyond Tokyo, and it's quite wonderful being exposed to parts of Tokyo that I never knew existed. I mean, I guess I did know that they existed in some sense, but I didn't ever take the time to see them or observe them while I lived here before university. Tokyo still bothers me in all its hussling speed and organized chaos, the carbon monoxide-filled air (although, not as bad as it was Beijing), the noise pollution, the mass-consumerism, the anonymity of people combined with a certain superficiality that is always maintained to ensure that no one is offended and thus, everyone knows quite nearly nothing about the person they ride the transit with everyday. In fact, they wouldn't even realize that they do.

So, it was really nice to escape all that this past weekend when Al and I hiked out to the edges of Tokyo, although it would be quite the overstatement to say that it was the fringe of civilization. For me this was a hike through Mount Takao, but for Al it was a walk because, according to him, "On hikes you don't have these vending machines or these little souvenir shops." I looked around me on a path that Al would deem at the most a 'pseudo-trail', the shops, the vendors, the vending machines, and people--people in Converse shoes, or even some others in heels. Alright, I suppose I can buy that argument.

In between all the mini-trips, the hours of coaching, and the 'on duty' obligations, I've managed to start practicing for my symphony auditions this coming September. This has also been a collection of pleasant moments. I can feel my rustiness slowly wearing off as I spend hour after hour toiling at the notes for my xylophone solo, and when I play Tchaikovsky 4 on my iPod and attempt to play the timpani along with it. My biggest challenge so far has been Scheherazade's snare drum part. It is so damn fast! Hopefully I'll get there in time..
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the airline industry

When you ask for a flight from City A to City B, you expect a flight from City A to City B with maybe the occasional stopover. Less frequently do you expect two, or even three, stopovers in order to reach one destination. Well, American Airlines gave my boyfriend two stopovers thousands of miles apart, and when we asked them to change the date of the flight, they decided that they would charge him fees for having to change all three flights. The cost? It would've amounted to $310. Ridiculous!

So for a short period of time I thought that maybe I would be able to visit New Zealand to shorten the 5-month separation time, but alas, not anymore. I was even prepared to take an unpaid leave because the only return flight I could get from Auckland to Tokyo at the end of March was a business class seat, bound to arrive in Tokyo on 2 April--of course, the day that school reconvenes. The Faculty Handbook clearly states that

Personal leave or unpaid leave may not be used the day before or the day after a school vacation or a long weekend for the purpose of extending the vacation or weekend.

Due to 'extrenuous circumstances' the principal was going to try to get me one day of unpaid leave. Well, that seems no longer necessary.

Long-distance relationships are difficult because they challenge both parties to maintain an undying, unfloundering loyalty and, more importantly, trust for each other. Unfortunately this trust is like the First Pig's house of hay. It takes so much effort to build once, and it may withstand some natural elements, but at the end of the day it is quite frivolous, and one substantial blow! reduces it to rubble. It must be built up all over again. The second time is harder; with the falling of the walls came the falling of a certain trust in oneself that you could accomplish things. So you must first build self-trust, and then rebuild the trust you had for the other. This, needless to say, takes a long time and a fortituous spirit of persistence.

Being a fairly weak person in spirit the abovementioned task has proven to be quite difficult. I suppose it is just one of those things you have to work hard to get, because it takes a long and difficult fight before you get to keep some of the best things in the world. I just get tired sometimes of putting up a good fight for it.

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Moving.

My new subdomain is "foresightedthorn"
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Master of Social Science, Global Politics

So I finally went against my initial desire to go to SOAS.

It wasn't an easy decision. In fact, it was probably the most difficult decision I've had to make in a while. The money factor is still nudging my on my side, reminding me how expensive the programme is. But, after all, it is an investment. A Masters of Social Science degree in Global Politics will hopefully take me further and open up a lot more options in my future than a Masters of Arts degree in International Studies and Diplomacy. Being a bigger school, it will provide me with ample opportunities to meet people and make connections. I would get a taste of academia and it would also allow me to pursue a postdoctorate later on in a similar field if I so desired, whereas SOAS' MA degree doesn't have a PhD option.

Congratulations me for deciding. Finally.
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STILL Undecided.

I think I've managed to slice off KCL for the time being. I am concentrated on LSE and SOAS. At the very moment I could care less which one I go to; I was leaning towards LSE all day but then I know that the programme at SOAS is pretty near-perfect to what I'm looking for. And they say that SOAS is famous in the IR/politics sphere espeically if you are working in Asia or Africa. Sigh. This seems like it is getting no where!

On a different note, I am currently working on putting together an event called Mustang Splash!! It is a charity swim meet hosted by our Varsity Swim Team, and it's also my very first event in which I play full facilitator. Quite exciting. Registration forms have been made and are waiting to be passed out, promo-team is on their way, a venue map completed, and most of the event has been planned out to the details. Good stuff. I've missed doing this.
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LSE vs. SOAS vs. KCL

Now, the Big Question.

I realize, first off, that it is an enormous privilege to be able to think, "LSE, SOAS, or KCL?" I wasn't expecting to face this situation so I am definitely not prepared to decide...just yet.

My former high school teacher, an LSE alum, says, "Definitely LSE. Not only is it a great school, its brand name will take you far along. Sure, we're stuck up but we have reasons to be. After all, 56 of the world's presidents are all LSE alums." That's great. Another teacher, a SOAS alum, says, "SOAS. No question. LSE's a great school, but for what you're looking to study, I think SOAS is your school." And KCL has a famous department, that of War Studies. The one and only of its kind in the UK.

Ok, so here are the hard facts:
LSE: 12,936 pounds sterling for the MSc Global Politics programme. A bit on the expensive side for me, but I suppose it is a price to pay for the quality education and the brand name. Bigger school, more people. Very probably elitist, but like Bapi says, I suppose they have every reason to be. The programme itself is fairly broad. A very thorough and comprehensive overview of how global politics function. Possible courses include Ethnic Diversity and International Society, Institutions and the Global Environment, Globalization and Democracy, National and Ethnic Conflict Resolution.

SOAS: 10,450 pounds sterling for the MA International Studies and Diplomacy programme. Originally my first choice. The least expensive of the three. I hear they are more laid back than the rest of the University of London colleges, and it is substantially smaller than the other two. The particular programme is diplomacy-heavy, with a practical element to it that the other two lack. Also, in addition to a course on general diplomatic practices, my course includes a whole unit on international law, and the international politics of Asia. But then, I do read a lot of people slandering SOAS for a lack of freedom of expression... which is interesting for its unaccountability, but this could be highly problematic for a person who hates having her freedom restricted.

KCL: 11,000 pounds sterling for the MA International Peace and Security programme. Didn't think I would get into this one, but what the hell, I did. Not as expensive as LSE but more expensive than SOAS. Lack of residence halls that I like. The programme itself is focused on the functions of international law in preventing conflicts and securing peace. There is an optional course on the proliferation of weapons, or diplomacy, along with several others of interest. The key is that KCL's Department of War Studies is the best of its kind in all of UK. I like how this one combines law and politics, whereas LSE doesn't seem to...as much.

Fuck.
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hurrah! part 2

And then, a teacher whose maiden name used to be "Fujimoto" handed me a package and said, "I think this is yours."

Apparently, SOAS also says, "YES!"

MA International Studies and Diplomacy. Oh my.
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hurrah!

King's College London, School of Law sent a nice package and said, "YES!"

MA International Peace & Security!
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Happy 2007!!

As the days pass by in the new year, I keep forgetting that it is now 2007. It always takes me a while to get used to writing the correct year.

Al flew in on the 29th, and we didn't manage to make it to Daniel's gig. Oh well. Since his arrival, we have visited a couple temples to take part in end-of-the-year/new-year festivities, and eat a whole bunch of things without feeling like throwing up. It's a good start. I don't think he's used to Japanese germs, though, and his constant sniffling is a case in point.

I hadn't been to Jindaiji in years. I can't remember when was the last time I had visited this neighborhood temple. We took a good bike ride down to Jindaiji on the 31st--ohh and it was COLD!!--and did the whole ordeal: walked through the gates, waved incense smoke on our heads, walked up to the shrine, threw in a couple 10 yen coins, clapped our hands twice, and bowed. Then we continued to walk through the temple, people-watching, mostly, and drank some tea while munching on some dango (small dumplings on skewers).

Tonnes of people were lined up at Ookuni-tama-jinja on New Year's Day to pray for health, success, and happiness in the coming 365 days. Many brought last year's charms to burn in a huge bonfire, and replace them with new ones appropriately fashioned for this year. In order to keep the sanpaisha (lit. "the pray-ers") happy while they waited in line, stands were lined up on each side to serve them warm beverages and food cooked on the spot. Al and I took part in this mass, and happy, consumerism by eating a plate of takoyaki. It was such gooey-goodness.

Today we are heading out to Shibuya to observe the so-famous Tokyo masses. Check back for pictures.
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A Christmas discovery

(cont'd: And then on actual Christmas Eve...)

It's worth about $500, but costs $20 each and it's possibly the best find I've had in years. It's the Orchestra Musician's CD-ROM Library!

Late last night I was trying to come up with the easiest, cheapest way to compile all my audition materials for the University of London Symphony Orchestra. What I really should've done was to keep photocopies of the parts I had played or come across at UBC, like the xylophone part for Kabalevsky's Colas Breugnon Overture. Fuck. I hate it when I regret not doing something due to a mere lack of foresight. Dammit. In any case, I spent a couple hours looking up the library catalogues of major schools of music in Tokyo, but only found scores and no parts.

Then, on Sheetmusicplus.com, I coincidentally came across a CD-ROM series titled, The Orchestra Musician's Library. The CD's basically contained printable PDF files of sheet music by part, so all I had to do was buy a CD that featured my instrument, the composer I needed, and his entire discography would be accessible. I didn't think such a compilation would be possible!! This was like someone gathering all of my audition parts for me, photocopying them, and handing it to me.

I was, for the first time, glad that these composers have been dead for centuries (apparently copyright law doesn't apply after a certain period?).

The audition materials: I inquired the ULSO because the percussion materials weren't listed, and they promptly replied that percussion was by application only, and I will be notified of what they will expect me to play when I apply in September 2007. Well, as we all musicians know, 9 months is a long time to go without playing, and is (I figured) just enough time to prepare for a major audition. There was no way I was going to wing the audition completely unprepared. Plus, this would give me a good of a reason as any other to start practicing again. I found out via Google that most auditions require 1 keyboard, 1 snare drum, 1 timpani. At higher levels they require an excerpt and a rudiment piece of each. At still higher levels they require specific excerpts for xylophone, glockenspiel, vibraphone, snare drum, cymbals, bass drum, tambourine, triangle, timpani, and 1 xylophone solo and 1 multi-percussion piece. Good thing I found that out because that is a lot to prepare for.

So my selection?

Xylo solo: G.H. Green, Log Cabin Blues
Xylo: Shostakovich, Golden Age Ballet: Polka
Glock: Debussy, La Mer
Vibraphone: Bernstein, Symphonic Dances from West Side Story
Snare: Rimsky-Korsakov, Scheherazade: Mvt. 3 & 4
Cymbals: Tchaikovsky, Symphony No. 4
Bass drum: Tchaikovsky, Symphony No. 4 or Stravinsky, Rite of Spring
Tambourine: Dvorak, Carnival Overture
Triangle: Bizet, Carmen Suite: Mvt. 2
Timpani: Tchaikovsky, Symphony No. 4
Mulitperc: Tagawa, Inspirations Diabolique

This, to say the least, could be really interesting..

Merry Christmas! It is the 25th as we speak, and I am blogging. meh.
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Tokyo Parties

(So what did I do the night before Christmas eve?)

Last night I went out to a party with Shiori and our friend Mifumi: a Japanese house party!! When the talk of going to a house party first came up, I hesitated. I knew that house parties in Tokyo weren't really house parties. Images of one high school 'house party' flew into my head. I had gone to only one and never wanted to go back to another house party thereafter that because of what made (broke?) the party: marijuana, cans of beer, and lots of high kids, with the night ending with some passed out in the bathroom, others passed out on couches and anything soft, and still others making out et al in the master bedroom(s). That certainly was not the way I wanted to spend the rest of the night. Despite my hesitation, we decided to go and find Mifumi first and play it by ear.

What I encountered there was something interestingly different from any house party I had been to, in Tokyo and Vancouver. My idea of a 'true' house party usually took place at someone's house and the host would be drunk by the time any of the guests arrived; there might be a keg or two; with enough alcohol and some good music there would be dancing; and most importantly, the night ended with people leaving the house to go elsewhere to drink more, dance more, or make out (more), and rarely did people stay until the next morning.

Well, this particular house party was different in a few ways. First, the house was rented out. Meaning, the host of the party--or anyone else at the party for that matter--wasn't a resident of the house. This was probably the weirdest concept to me. Secondly, music came briefly from a CD player and then was replaced by the more entertaining karaoke machine that people didn't hesitate to use. Thirdly, everything was kept relatively clean. This I liked very much, especially the clean and unsticky floors. Fourthly, I realized that Japanese girls appealed to men differently than did North American girls, mainly in that the fantastical was synonymous with the sexy. Shoulders, cleavages, legs, stomachs--all of these main spots were completely covered by a nice formal dress that underscored their 'girliness' (which is significantly different from the western feminine). Shiori had jeans on and I had a pair of khakis, and both of us wore a white spaghetti strap tanktop. Needless to say, in our uber-casual outfits we felt like bums surrounded by girls who were, for all intents and purposes, dressed formally. When a group of girls joined the party in Santa-girl outfits--with all erogenous zones covered, of course--this was welcomed by a slew of whistling. Shiori and I looked at each other, slightly confused.

Right: Roppongi, party central>
Don't get me wrong: the party was fun. There were two guys dressed in reindeer costumes, alcohol was amply served, and the people were fun, if only to watch. It was the first time in years--possibly the first in my life--to have partied with native Japanese people who didn't necessarily speak English. Although I must admit, I didn't end up leaving my comfort zone too long, as I mainly stuck with people who spoke English and Japanese. When that party began to dwindle a bit, we moved our venue to a club, in Roppongi. In my opinion the Caprice, or even the Plaza was a better club, and they weren't really that great, either. The club was far from being a Celebrities. More like Lola's or Loft.

We stayed out until 4 in the morning, which I hadn't done in a while (Vancouver clubs closed at 2am at the latest), and by the end of the night (early morning) I comfortably sat on a bench by the dance floor with a glass of amaretto on rocks. I was used to doing this with Alicia, and it was too bad she wasn't there with me to enjoy the view. By that hour I noticed that there were lots of African Americans dancing with Asian girls. As these girls were skimply dressed, I felt kind of at 'home', which was also a weird realization. The man dancing in front of me had small holes in his sweater, as if it were used to extinguish cigarette lights. Two men approached me and I told them politely that I would rather sit there than dance with them, and they were politely offended. There was even a man at least 50 years old, hitting on a girl at least 20 but no older than 25--this was disturbing; he must have a lot of money, I judged, from his clothing. Girls here, I also observed, had no clue how to dance. They awkwardly shifted from left to right, and the hardcore ones who wore shorts and midriffs and fishnet stockings and black hooker boots danced in a overtly sexual way and could not be considered to be, in any sense of the word, attractive.

I'm exhausted.
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Consumerfest!

"I heard that Christmas isn't really big in Japan. It makes sense because it's not a Christian country," my friend recently commented.

Well, actually, take this: if Christmas were a multinational company like Starbucks Coffee (it might as well be), it would make a good portion of its total annual profit from Japan (Starbucks does). Despite the lack of an apparent Christian culture, Santa-day is a major festival--a consumer festival. Much like in North America, red and green decorations begin to adore the streets, shop windows, staff uniforms, gift wrappings, and whole sides of department stores (the Japanese mall) starting the beginning of November. Baby-faced idols and models--male and female--begin to wear white fluff and Santa costumes and their faces are posted up on pretty much every legitimate building facade. Major downtown areas like Shibuya, Harajuku, and Shinjuku are bright with LCD Christmas lights, and LCD Christmas lights only because a few years ago there was an activist movement that condemned the bright, old-school Christmas lights for their contribution to light pollution and hurting the trees.

At the time I couldn't help but notice that as the night went on, the activists' paper banners condemning Christmas lights could only be recognized via the glow from the neon banners above.

Tokyo is not like Vancouver, in the way that it is unlikely that one would come across any major churches downtown or anywhere else. There are, to be sure, some substantial Christian populations here; believe it or not there are missionaries floating amongst the crowds. But, they are hardly seen. Candle services and masses on Christmas Eve/Day are only attended by the most stringent of Christians. Oh, but you can't forget about the street preachers. These street preachers are holding large white pickets in major downtown areas that say, in black font, such heart-warming stuff like "God knows the truth" "Reconnect with God" and my favorite, "You are a sinner." One or two men are often talking into a megaphone, claiming how sinners will die and those who reconnect with God will live eternally after Judgment Day. They are not shy to insist conversion upon 'sinners' walking by and through them, carrying bags from GAP and Gucci. "Be saved by God," they insist. Most people just laugh.

Christmas is huge here. But unlike in North America, it is very rarely a family occassion, but rather, a couple's occassion. If you're single during these two days, it is just another reason to drink your head off and forget about keeping your liver and kidneys. Families with young kids will most likely do the family version of Christmas, and the aged population will just sit at home and not do much but watch TV, but the majority in between eats, drinks, sings, buys hugely expensive gifts for their partners, and gets laid. People who didn't have sex on Christmas Eve were probably just too drunk or too drugged out to perform. People who didn't do any of that were probably working. Funny country.
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The L.S.E.

Need I say more? To whomever spends their precious time reading my blog, I am now one step closer to having a pint in London (not that I could ever finish a pint, let alone half)!!!

MSc Global Politics, baby.

*I dance*
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41st President of the United States

Unfortunately, I couldn't take any pictures. But as you can see from the photo, the Secret Service certainly didn't stop first graders to sneak (?) a shot via his camera-phone! The handful of people who were allowed to carry a camera on them into the Ricketson Theatre were mostly journalism-related, professionally or via the school (you can see more pictures if you follow this link). Every so often you can hear the ring-a-ling of kids' phones snapping a shot of their former President. Well, I didn't get photos but it doesn't change he fact that I was literally 2 feet away from a former leader of one of the most powerful countries in the world.

He spoke mainly of very broad topics in a humourous, approachable manner; of values and goals, motivations and aspirations--rightfully appropriate topics for a middle school crowd. The appx. 100 high school students and teachers' civil rights were trampled on by a declaration earlier in the week, which prohitibted us from asking questions or commenting on anything during the President's speech. Don't ask me why this was done, because I haven't a clue.

An old man, this former 41st President of the United States. I sat in the third row from the front, and observed that there were signs of age and years of experience in the way he talked, the way he stood, the way he gazed over his microphone, and especially in the way he would turn and look at his wife, the former First Lady, or, in the President's words, "the silver fox."

I never thought I would ever meet a former 'world leader'. In combination with Herbie Hancock from last week, I've had some unexpected events pop into my life this past month or so. I guess you could never tell what happens in life.
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"H.H."

Dear Canadians, I bet you thought that "H.H." was an abbreviation for Helly Hansen.

Very wrong! It's HERBIE HANCOCK!!

Herbie paid a nice visit to the high school yesterday afternoon and worked with the jazz kids. He did a lot of improvisation work, getting the kids to listen and feel for the keys rather than depending on a conductor. He seemed thoroughly satisfied with what the kids had been working on, and recognized immediately that the piano player was a hardcore classical pianist. (Oh Sean if only you were here to rock the show!!) I had to leave with the swim team for practice, but from what I hear of the rest of the afternoon, it went well! Such a pleasant man! (more pictures on my flickr)
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Names you wouldn't think of.

Last night, nine alumni came out to play the varsity boy's basketball team. They started the game down by 16--I later found out that the 16 points were not planned on; the OB's were just not used to the idea of playing basketball--but came out on top by 2 in the end.

It was a weird scene for me. Suddenly, I was 16, 17, 18, back in that gym, watching the same guys play basketball--not all at the same time, of course. I spoke with some of them afterwards, to say hello and ask how/what they were doing nowadays. Great to see you, Maybe I'll see you in London, Take care. I left the gym quickly afterwards with a peculiar feeling: it was as if I had revisited my past as someone else. They probably didn't even know who I was, just that I was a familiar face from a time during which they were unaware of most things to begin with. I hadn't thought of their names in at least 5 years (if not more), and then I watched them play basketball, and the funniest thing is, I will probably never see them again. Until, of course, one day, somehow, somewhere, we cross paths without knowing that any of it would happen. Moments like these make me think how small the world could be, and how life is really full of stuff that one fails to fathom and predict.
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One year older.

My 23rd birthday turned out to be a pretty good day, breaking the record of 16 consecutive, horrible November 28th's. It's not that I've had bad birthdays persay; my 'birthday' was often celebrated days after or days before due to bad timing. But it just so happened to be that every November 28th's for the past 16 or so years have just been 'bad' days. You know--gross weather, cranky people, frustrating job/work, unnecessary insults, topped by the lack of any celebration either amongst friends or on my own, alone. This year, it was different: surprise celebration by the English and Social Studies teachers; a slice of cake the day before presented by two awesome kids; dinner with a friend; and of course the boyfriend, albeit thousands of miles away, who sends me a paint file of confetti, complete with two dancing figures and a missing 'h' in "birthday."

So, in light of a good day coincidentally on my birthday, my resolution for my year 23 is to recognize and appreciate the good things that I have in life, sometimes.
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Just for fun

You are The Wheel of Fortune

Good fortune and happiness but sometimes a species of intoxication with success

The Wheel of Fortune is all about big things, luck, change, fortune. Almost always good fortune. You are lucky in all things that you do and happy with the things that come to you. Be careful that success does not go to your head however. Sometimes luck can change.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

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An early surprise!

I was eating some chicken noodle soup in hopes of improving my current throat condition, when two of my former volleyball girls came shyly walking into (and walking out, repeatedly) my room with grins and giggles. Their friend then explained for them that they have a birthday present for me, even though it is one day early!! It was so sweet of them!! Now that the picture is up, I can eat it :)
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Back from Beijing

And my voice is gone. One of the varsity girls who decided not to go came up to me first thing this morning and said, "Sohko, I should've gone. It would've been worth it to see you yelling and coaching the way I heard you did." That's great, eh. I've lost my voice, if that says anything about the entire weekend. The seriously smoggy air of the city didn't help, either.

The girls' team lost all their games, but it was the ultimate practice for them, and I think they learned a lot. The boys' team, on the other hand, won most of their games and came out on top, as champions of the entire tournament. They played so well!

By far the biggest highlight of the trip was the morning excursion to the Great Wall, on Thursday. We climbed a steep hill where many shops and vendors were set up, selling little trinckets and articles of clothing for passing tourists. I got two bracelets just for the fun, and even found Aaron an old piece of wood. It was probably part of a large door frame or something, but the intricate carvings on it were what got him excited (he enjoys decorating his house, he says. Oh, adults). We went up to the actual Wall via cablecar, and the car I got on was the same one Bill Clinton had got on on his way down. Who knows if it was actally true, but there was a sticker on it that said so. On that day we only walked between two guard towers, but one day I would like to go back and hike the whole length of it. Hopefully the restorations would have finished by then. (Or not, depending on how efficient the Chinese decide to be.)

I stayed in an apartment building located in a residential complex, whose homes are at least 1000 sq. ft. in size and the rent starts at at least $4500 CAD. Totally western-style architecture and interiors. There are about 100 houses in one complex, and there are probably about 15-20 complexes. The region around the International School of Beijing consists of primarily these western European blocks; the only times I felt that I was in Beijing was when I was on the Wall, when I was out shopping in a local market, and when I was on the bus in the mornings traveling between ISB and our excursion destination. It was an interesting set-up, to say the least, and kind of creepy, to be perfecly honest. The School was great, though! Awesome people and the tournament was fabulous - every aspect one would consider for an event was covered and executed, and I was thoroughly impressed.

Some pictures to follow, and there are more on my flickr site.
> A bright red sun at 6am, because of the intense smog in the air.

> See! Bill Clinton took this car.

> Me and the Wall (and a random China man).

> Great view.

> The Pomegranate: a North American sports bar in the middle of nowhere.
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All out...and waiting.

Applications are all out. Whooop-ti-doo. I'm glad it's all over. Now it's just waiting and waiting and waiting. Sigh.

In the meantime. I am off to Beijing in three hours. Smile. I hope to land safely in China by 9pm tonight. Praying.
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bulls-eye.

Maneck studied Beggarmaster's excessive chatter, his attempt to hid his heartache. Why did humans do that to their feelings? Wheter it was anger or love or sadness, they always tried to put something else forward in its place. And then there were those who pretended their emotions were bigger and grander than anyone else's. A litle annoyance they acted out like a gigantic rage; where a smile or chuckle would do, they laughed hysterically. Either way, it was dishonest.

A Fine Balance, by Rohinton Mistry. Page 493.
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Trip #3 of the year!

Destination: BEIJING
Dates: November 22 - 26
Purpose: Invitational high school basketball tournament
Activities: Climb the Great Wall of China, see the Forbidden Palace, and shop. And coach basketball, of course.

Score.
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Where the....

F&%K!!! is my letter of recommendation from UBC???

RAAAHHHHHH!!
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My 4th JUMP.

Ex-ASIJ would understand what that means.

On Thursday and Friday I spent 2 days with 12 kids and another adult in Chichibu, Saitama Prefecture (read: boonies). It was truly in the middle of nowhere, but still a lot of fun. Some highlights:
- We hiked the wrong mountain.
- I had possibly the best udon noodles in a small, 70 year-old restaurant located in the middle of the 'right' mountain.
- I almost had to call an ambulance for a kid suffering from an allergic reaction to cedar pollen.
- We made glass beads!
- And then we made our own soba, and ate it.

> View from the train to Chichibu.

> Japanese version of Stairmaster (aka Our Hike).

> Clean water!

> Lamune! See the marble?

> Indigo dye smells. Eww.

More pictures on my flickr page...
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Sooo close! *updated*

My team was ready to fight to the death in each game. It was a double-elimination tournament. Although we lost our first match, that we had taken a set from one of the top teams in the league was a confidence booster for us underdogs. We probably shouldn't have gone to three sets in our second game--perhaps we got a bit cocky--we managed to win that game...until, of course, we met up against our own JV team in the second round of the losers' bracket.

The first set was a blow-out. Something wasn't mentally there and we lost, very quickly. The second set started out slow, but we picked up at the end and came out victorious. In the final set, we began strong by using our momentum from the previous set's victory. But being a short set capped at 17 points, we lost the set by only 3 points. We were so close!

Regardless of the ultimate result, the girls had a great time, and for a team that was shafted for gym practice time and that had less than half the number of season games than all the rest of the teams in the tournament, we fared pretty well, and definitely put up a big fight! Go JVB!

Epilogue..
A few days later, a coach from another school emailed all the athletic directors and volleyball coaches in our league, stating that

Next year I would like to ask that A**J not be allowed to enter a 'B Team' into the tournament...The B team is hard to seed and obviously very good due to the fact A**J is a big school in a small school tournament. Furthermore A**J appears to only be using the tournament as a means to build a strong varsity team as they do not attempt to win, but just play as many girls as possible. [...] If A**J does not care to play to the best of its team's ability with one team, ok, but to take up space with its 'B team' is a waste of time and very poor sportsmanship.

A note to readers that, the topic of discussion is a high school Junior Varsity volleyball league whose players are no where near the college playing level; they have just started to figure out what the game of volleyball is all about. This guy gives no credit to me and Josh who've put quite a bit of time, passion, and effort in building our JVB team. We're just good because we're a bigger school? How does that make sense? I mean, what does that say about his team, and furthermore, his coaching skills? And, apparently, giving dedicated players with a strong desire to learn the game some playing time in a tournament setting is 'poor sportsmanship' in his world. The girls love the game! What's wrong with them wanting to develop their skills for the varsity level and beyond? Arrrghhhh...

Anyway, some pictures..





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Is it worth the investment?

Investment of time, resources, and perhaps more importantly, faith.

In my recent effort to write a letter of intent for my postgraduate applications, I strongly insisted that the world is in need of people who are not only multilingual, but multicultural, to stand as representative members of a growing international community. I argued that they must be, first and foremost, endowed with a sense of global responsibility. I cannot help but feel that Roh Moo-hyun, the current South Korean president, was one such person.

His 'sunshine policy' programme was began in an effort to reengage a population that had been separated quite cleanly in two by a physical border and a war. According to my mother's extended family members, such a political separation has not led them to believe that they are specifically 'Northern' or 'Southern'; they are, they insist, Korean. The successful completion of Roh's 'sunshine policy', therefore, would have helped bring together two populations that were originally one.

But what do you do, as a man of politics, when your neighbor blows up a nuke, against international objection? Here is a government you've decided to invest in, hoping--and that is truly the appropriate word: hoping--that they would begin to cooperate and see things in a different light. Despite the result (i.e. nuke), Roh should be commended for his effort and his ultimate faith in the good heart of human kind. Yes, they may be (are?) developing 'weapons of mass destruction', but their people are starving, and today, they would be half my people if it were not for the War and the physical border. The government that rules over their former people must be pressured to meet recent international standards of peace and security, but being so close and sharing so much history, they must not be completely alienated. As the direct neighbor and thus the most threatened, South Korea's approach to the recent North Korean crisis has been summarized in the recent issue of the Economist as the following:

South Korea's predominant political consensus, says Andrei Lankov of Kookmin University in Seoul, is to seek gradual change north of the border in ways that might eventually narrow the vast income gap between the two sides. Tightening the screws too far risks goading Mr Kim to strike back. A collapse of the regime, followed by reunification, would impose unbearable costs on the South. Even the opposition GNP, says Park Jin, a member of the party, believes in maintaining dialogue with the North, while adding some pressure.

How does one with a sense of so-called 'global responsibility' tackle such a situation?
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the calm after a storm..

exhausted.

i've got no brain energy.

anxious and nervous, but too tired to do anything about it.

my mind wanders.
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