Seize the day!

The old uncle and the sea

2010-09-26T21:44:00.008+09:00

"Hey, what do you call that in Chinese?" a voice from behind interrupted my thoughts.

I looked up and saw one of the elderly fishermen from the nearby factory.
He pointed to the horseshoe crab I was trying to clean.
(Photo courtesy of Mss Pegasus)

"Err... it's um..." a jumble of names floated up in my head. Helmet crab(カブトガニ)... doesn't sound right... couple fish(夫妻鱼)... that's very Kinmen... arggghhh it's on the tip of my tongue..."

"马蹄蟹(horse hoof crab in this context)!" came the triumphant reply.

"Huh?"

"马蹄蟹!"

Ah, that makes sense.

"Are they edible, uncle?" I asked, hoping to find out more about how much impact the local fishermen's activities had on the crabs.

"Yes, but only the roe. They're delicious when cooked, but after eating two or three, I feel dizzy..."

"Dizzy?" I immediately thought of how filthy the waters of the Kranji mudflats were. The ICCS team was there, collecting trash and about 650kg of plastic bags, mineral water bottles, tires, discarded nets, mostly coated with a disgusting grey-ish slime had been gathered into bags.

I can't imagine what hazardous chemicals there might be in the systems of scavengers and bottom-feeders like crabs, horseshoe crabs, clams and mussels, etc. Shipyards and factories are nearby and there is no telling what gets dumped into the water. What's worse, rumor has it that a hospital at the opposite side of the Straits of Johor, might be a little careless about disposing its biological waste.

*shudder*

"The clams caught in this area have to be cooked very thoroughly, but even then, they have this diesel oil smell to them." the elderly uncle elaborated.

What are we doing to the waters off of Kranji?

Yet he didn't seem overly bothered.

"Did you know, I was featured in the Shin Min Daily the other day!" He happily went on.
"They did a feature on unusual homes. There was this couple who lived in a treehouse."
"Well mine is a little house on stilts over the water... here come, I'll show you!"

Intrigued, I dropped the little barnacle-encrusted Limulus into a bucket and followed him into the factory.

He brought me to the edge of the embankment overlooking the mudflat, to a series of wooden planks, carefully perched on long stilts planted firmly into the mud. The whole structure protruded out from the embankment like a jetty. When the tide was in, I supposed it did become a jetty.

At the end, a little hut erected of wooden boards stood. Barely tall enough for a grown man to sit upright, in the fading light I could make out bedding and a mosquito net.

"That's where I sleep! It's very breezy and cool. When the tide comes in, the waves below serenade me to sleep." He was positively glowing with pride at his creation.

I asked if he lived there the whole time.

"Yesss. My children are all grown up and can survive on their own. I grew up in a kampong and am used to being close to the sea. So I asked the factory owner if I can be his security guard and make the premises my home."

His food?
"There's always the hawker centre 10 minutes away."

The Internet? Email? Mobile phone? Nah, I wasn't silly enough to ask about those! But it just struck me that I would be quite annoyed not to have email access for a few days.

"The owner; you won't find a nicer man nowadays. He's like us, a man with humble beginnings, so he understands what we ordinary people go through. He gave us(the uncle and a couple of other odd-job men) the freedom of the place, and even the use of his boat to fish with. You won't find people like him nowadays."

I agree. The owner allows us to use his porch as a base for the horseshoe crab activities, providing taps and restroom facilities for us to clean up after our muddy work.

"Why, the other day, MOE people were here, asking about mosquito breeding sites in our factory."

"I told them, look, the factory owner is a kind man who helps people in need, he gives you guys(the Nature Society of Singapore) a hose to wash up with... why are they harassing him?

And they went away."

Hmm... I wondered if that was how it really went, but it was an interesting take on karma to say the least.

"I tell you, when a man is content, he doesn't need riches and all that."
"When a man is not content, nothing will ever satisfy him and he will never be happy."

The old uncle and the sea.

Kinmen 金門: Day 2

2010-06-13T05:49:00.000+09:00

Since the Ming dynasty(1368-1644), Kinmen has been garnering a steady reputation for producing scholars and people of literary achievements. Under the ancient Imperial Examination system, the best and brightest from every province in China studied for rigorous tests to qualify for civil or military positions in government. The fact that a minor district such as Kinmen, then a part of 福建(Fujian) province, produced 44 進士 (jin shi) or PhDs, is a great source of pride to its inhabitants even today.

My 堂哥(tang ge: paternal cousin who's a child of an uncle/aunt older than one's father) who's hosting us is an accomplished writer and poet of some fame in Taiwan. His wife, my 堂嫂(tang sao), owns an art gallery and was a media personality of some sort in Taipei before she semi-retired. I shall Google them when I get back. He gave us a copy of one of his books, an anthology of poems composed from interviews with old Kuomintang soldiers.

The second day in Kinmen began shortly after midnight when the whining of mosquitoes woke me up. Gone were my hopes for a good night's sleep. Bite and suck all the blood you want but for goodness' sake don't make that infernal sound...

I had only dozed off minutes before; after convincing myself that the room I was sleeping alone in was just an ordinary bedroom and not a 100-year-old enclosure next to someone else's ancestral hall. Luckily the room had recently been given a makeover. New coat of paint, new roof made of thick wooden beams in the traditional style. The wood scent was pleasant and permeated every fabric in the room. The mattress was brand new and the bedding smelled of hot sun and the summer breeze.

In the end, after many battles with the blerdy bloodsuckers, like the Kuomintang, I strategically retreated to the courtyard and eventually went outside the premises for a stroll. That was when I happily discovered free WiFi outside the next-door 民宿 (min su: bed-and-breakfast) :) No one else was up and about at that unearthly hour. There was a nice breeze which soothed my fatigue a little. The village we are in, 瓊林(Qionglin), belongs to the 蔡(Cai) clan and the owner of the house we are staying at is related to my clan the 黃(Huang)s by marriage. 瓊林 seems prosperous enough but I haven't seen a lot of people between the ages of 5 and 50. Probably most of the young and able had moved to bigger towns and cities.

At around eight in the morning, my 堂哥 arrived with a hearty breakfast: 燒餅(shao bing: crispy oven-baked pancakes with sweet or savory filling); 豆漿(dou jiang: soy milk); 蛋餅(dan bing: soft folded pastry shells fried on a hot plate with egg); 包(bao: buns stuffed with red bean or lotus root paste) and 油條(you tiao: deep-fried dough strips). Yum.

After breakfast, we began making our rounds to every relative's house. First there was Ah Sung, the widow of another cousin. All her children had gone to Taiwan to work and she lives alone in Kinmen. There seemed to be some bad blood between her and my elderly uncle(堂哥's father) but thanks to 堂嫂's eloquence, awkwardness slowly turned into grudging acceptance of differences.

Uncle Shuiying's house in Houshuitou Village(後水頭村) was next. This was where my paternal grandfather was born and our "true" ancestral village. Nestled at the base of a hilly ridge, Uncle Shuiying and his extended family had been living there since my great-great-grandfather's time. When the Japanese invaded Kinmen, my grandfather fled to Southeast Asia, eventually returning to Kinmen for a few years after the war before leaving for Singapore again in the 1950s.

What does all these mean? Not sure... it's like having a ton of history books dumped on my head all at once. Villages that I'm supposed to call home but which I never knew existed, people whom I bear some sort of resemblance to, relatives popping out from all directions speaking a language that my grandparents spoke... after a while, I guess I need to get used to it.

"Hey, 3rd uncle twice removed, nice to meet you, I'm your nephew on our great-grandfather's 4th son's side of the family... how are the kids?" etc.

Uncle Shuiying is a businessman who seem rather fastidious about matters relating to ancestral traditions. He and his 3 sons and their families have been going around poring over ancestral records and uncovering ancestral graves all over Kinmen. Apparently this process has been hastened by an announcement from the Taiwanese government that they will claim any land in Kinmen that has not been officially registered by its residents.

Part of my father's reasons for this trip was to discuss the ownership and division of land left behind by my grandfather. As family feuds often form over matters of inheritance in Chinese clans, I wasn't very keen on mucking around in those shark-infested waters and focused more on learning about our ancestors.

Eventually my brother and I grabbed hold of Uncle Shuiying's eldest son and learned some very interesting things.

In short, during the 14th century(Ming dynasty), a member of the Ming Imperial Family liked Kinmen so much that he moved his family over from Quanzhou(泉州). I am this dude's 24th-generation descendant.

Waaaaitaminute, but my last name is not 朱(Zhu: last name of the Ming emperors)--my first reaction. So some ancestor of mine must have been raised to royal blood through marriage or merit. But I must have looked skeptical, so he showed us relevant entries in the family tree records and even some architectural features in my grandfather's old home.

In olden days, people used special roof decorations called
筒瓦(tong wa) to display official rank, much like the epaulets that soldiers wear on their shoulders. The more 筒瓦 one has on one's roof, the higher-ranking one is.

I went outside to take a look. Apparently most families have no 筒瓦, or at most three or five. On top of my grandfather's old residence, the WHOLE ROOF was lined with 筒瓦.

24 generations... even if each generation lasts about 30 years, that still takes me at least 720 years back in time. What lives, what fates, what joys and what miseries have all my forebears experienced? The 泉州 side of our clan's story is yet obscure and Uncle Shuiying's family are planning a trip there to discover more.

Imperial Family eh? How far your descendants have fallen, my ancestor...

Kinmen 金門: Day 1

2010-06-06T14:43:00.001+09:00

The first half of the day was spent in the air and on the sea enroute to Kinmen. Xiamen 廈門 International Airport looked just like any other airport in a big city, except that residential apartments were pretty close to the runways. China changes every time I go. This time, shops were newer, service personnel were more polite and rude people were generally older in age. But I need to clarify that beneath the grumpy facades and aggressive behavior, most of the people we met were kind at heart.

The ferry from Xiamen International Ferry Terminal to Kinmen Shuitou (水头) Ferry Terminal was relatively pleasant, except for passengers vomiting all around. At first I didn't know why service personnel were walking up and down the aisles distributing plastic bags. Then the sea turned a little choppy, people started moving towards the more stable rear of the ferry, and all around, lunches were emptied noisily into barf bags. Poor souls. My brother and I weren't affected, perhaps thanks to our seafaring ancestors.

Gray skies immediately turned to blue when we arrived at Kinmen. Temperatures also dropped to a very pleasant 26C, with low humidity. At the terminal, after managing to fill out the wrong immigration forms, we made it across thanks to the patient customs staff. Clearly people here are more relaxed and share the typical Taiwanese hospitality.

My long-lost (read: never-before-met) cousin, his lovely, gregarious wife and 92-year-old-yet-fit-as-a-fiddle father had been waiting for us for more than an hour.

I was relieved to find that they spoke fluent Mandarin as well as Taiwanese. My limited Taiwanese would have been severely tested otherwise. Despite not having met them before, conversation was smooth and while it can't be said that we really hit it off immediately, there was definitely some kind of affinity.

The best was yet to come. They had mentioned that they would arrange some sort of lodging for us. Imagine our delight when we pulled up to a 100-year-old refurnished Qing dynasty home, complete with courtyard and preserved traditional Chinese architecture!

A great front gate made of reinforced timber opened to reveal an ornate courtyard. Crossing the courtyard, one can see aged foundation stones flanked by low walls. How easy for assassins and ninjas to infiltrate, I thought, for the architecture immediately reminded me of Chinese period dramas and movies.

An equally ornate inner courtyard door opened into a narrow passageway and a third door, this time to the main hall which contains the family altar. Rooms lie to the left and right, at both ends of the passageway.

How can I describe this feeling of entering a setting which I had previously seen/read in movies and in books? It seemed unreal that had I been born in my grandfather's era, I might have grown up playing in that courtyard. As it is, I am already imagining myself drinking tea in the courtyard under a full moon.

Off to explore more of the village of Qiong Lin, and military tunnels and fortifications built when the Kuomintang fought the Communists. I hadn't known the full extent of what it was like to live in Kinmen in the years immediately following the Kuomintang's withdrawal from mainland China. My older relatives grew up as citizen soldiers, learning to fire rifles as teenagers, ducking into air-raid shelters at the first sign of artillery bombardment. The shelters are still here, some overgrowth with weeds, others preserved as tourist attractions. more impressive were the tunnels, dug by young soldiers for miles and miles underground. If you were a young conscript in Taiwan in those days and had the luck to be assigned to Kinmen, hard construction work awaited you, plus the risk of perishing under enemy fire became all too real.

Going underground, we saw strategically placed slots for firing into alleys just above the passageways. Long straight tunnels extend around half the village, occasionally branching out into exits or more tunnels. A underground command post was equipped with maps of the coast, records of ammunition supplies, photos of soldiers, men and women included. It's evident that war was a way of life back in the not-so-distant past. I wonder where those people are now. Motivational slogans also dot the wall.

One of the tunnel exits brought us to an imposing statue of a lion standing upright and wearing a red cape. Called a 'Wind Lion Elder' (風獅爺), it's a local deity responsible for calming strong winds. It is only found in locations with strong winds, apparently. Incense and joss sticks laid before it in homage.

I wonder if this was the inspiration for the Merlion?

Dinner was an eagerly-anticipated affair, with the famous Kinmen oyster omelet, yams with stewed pork, and local produce. I have to say, the oyster omelet was the best ever. Crispy with just the right degree of chewiness and the sweet, sweet local oysters..... I can probably never eat another kind again.

Kinmen rocks.

Mobile Blogging from here.

The rainforest beckons

2010-05-07T00:16:00.000+09:00

The tropical rainforest is a relaxing place to be. Even in areas where the trees are just a few decades old, they tower high up into the sky, forming the signature rainforest canopy. In a frenetic competition for sunlight, they extend their branches and leaves laterally as far as possible, providing shade for the creatures below.

In the early dawn, faint rays of sunlight trickle through the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve canopy. All is still quiet; wisps of mist mingle tentatively with the sunbeams. Neither the early birds nor the worms have awoken. Nocturnal creatures like bats return to their holes, burrows and nests, relinquishing the forest to the creatures of the day.

Hikers like us are just intruders, stomping through the trails like elephants, to be punished by the bloodthirsty mosquitoes. Unlike their urban cousins, the forest mozzies seem to be attracted to insect repellent. Their rapier-like mouthpieces penetrate clothing with ease and something in their saliva leave angry, itching welts. Barely five minutes onto the trails, I am already cursing all members of the mosquito family.

Spider silk occasionally hang suspended across the path, softly yielding to the hiker who barges through. Sometimes caterpillars also suspend themselves vertically on delicate silken threads from the trees. Alerted suddenly by a fellow hiker, I turned my head only to find my nose centimeters away from a tiny spider hanging down from a barely discernible thread. Caught by surprise, I screamed, the spider screamed and in my haste to get away I tripped over a root and fell down in an embarrassing heap.

As the sun rises further the forest reveals more of her secrets. Temperatures also creep up steadily, but thankfully the thick canopy above deflects most of the heat, keeping the forest floor a few degrees cooler. Vines, ferns and shoots emerge from the shadows of larger tree trunks and branches, proving that there are ways to thrive in the rainforest without much sunlight. Some, like the vines, adopt parasitic ways, sucking life from any host they attach themselves to. Nearer to the ground, low-lying plants and the occasional mushroom/toadstool seem to stretch and extend as the morning dew vaporizes from their leaves/caps. I see red forest ants already hard at work scavenging a dead caterpillar. Ladybirds come out shopping in gleaming red coats. Birds start to chirps and monkeys scamper across branches furtively, wearing innocently guilty expressions. They are relatives of the thieving ones who live near the visitors' centre. Those guys will snatch food right from your hands if you aren't careful. But who am I to call them thieves when I am the trespasser?

The forest denizens must hear us coming from far away, crashing clumsily through the undergrowth. Occasionally I pause and let the others walk on, with the intention of practising some macro shots. As footsteps draw further away, the forest seems to exhale a bit and resume normal activity. I stay still, eyes fixed on a random plant with funny geometrical leave veins. Within minutes, a couple of ants poke their heads out from under a leaf and start to climb to the topmost point where fresh flower buds await. A spider leaps onto a neighboring leaf, eight gleaming eyes seemingly staring at something to the right. I follow her gaze, eventually spotting a curious red-eyed fly resting on the edge of a leaf. Glorious fodder for the camera, if only I can get the focus right. Thank goodness for digital cameras.

At midday, we bid farewell to the forest and headed for the summit. Then, after the customary group photo, it's time for some good food at Beauty World.

Mutton soup, Chinese-style.
Chendol at the nearby Peranakan restaurant.
Nap on the bus home.

What sights and sounds will the rainforest show us again next week?

清明時節雨紛紛

2010-04-10T13:07:00.006+09:00

On a rainy, windswept morning, I visited my grandmother.
Plot 4892, Chinese Cemetery Road 12, Lim Chu Kang; she lies alongside rows and rows of well-tended graves on gentle undulating slopes in the Northwest.

It has been several years since I managed to be in the country during Qing Ming, where it is customary to pay respects to forebears by visiting and tidying up their final resting places.

Mdm Tow, or Ah Fo, as I remember Grandmother by, was a remarkable woman.
Born in Hainan Province in China, in a village whose name has sadly been lost to us, she came to Malaya, as Singapore and Malaysia were collectively known then, in search of a better life.

Together with Grandfather, she set up a foodstall selling Hainanese delicacies and Hainanese versions of porkchops, peas and mashed potatoes. Her very first success was a Hainanese dessert called Buah Kia, a dark cane-sugar-flavored syrup filled with little flour strips and flavored with ginger and pandan leaves.

Combine flour and water and knead little fat strips of dough. Boil a pot of water before dropping the Buah Kia in, taking care not to over-boil the mixture. Then smash a piece of ginger before tossing that in with pandan leaves and dark cane sugar.

With her dazzling culinary skills, Ah Fo soon became a household name along Waterloo Street near what's known today as Bugis. When WWII came to Singapore, she fled to Malaysia with Grandfather, my mum and my uncle for a few years before coming back after the war was over.

Grandfather passed away shortly after and Ah Fo, in her indomitable way, single-handedly brought up mum and her brother, managing to pay for both her kids' education. In an era where education for women was still discouraged, Ah Fo, with no formal schooling, recognized the importance of education and in her foresight, insisted that mum went to school as well.

Life was to get better for Ah Fo as Singapore's economy improved, although she always lived a very simple life devoid of things such as televisions and hot-water showers. My elder brother and me were lucky to have her looking after us when we were toddlers. Sadly, she left us for a better place when I was thirteen.

Since then, our time with Ah Fo has been limited to either in dreams or during Qing Ming. The procedure is pretty standard--the day before, mum would buy a chicken and other ingredients to make Hainanese Chicken Rice (Ah Fo's favorite), followed by Buah Kia. At dawn the next day, we'd set off with the food and with various traditional items used to pay homage to ancesters such as incense, red candles, paper money and some gardening tools to trim the grass on Ah Fo's grave.

Her grave is a round-ish egg-shaped mound, encased on the sides and front by stone. From the front, stone lotuses flank her headstone, which is further raised from the ground to knee-level. On the right at ground-level, a stone tablet dedicated to the Earth God sits, protecting Ah Fo's grave.
Ah Fo's kindly face smiles from her headstone.
Etched in neat Chinese characters are her name, year of birth and passing, the names of her descendants and her home village. As nobody remembers which village Ah Fo came from, Grandfather's village, 風頭村 in 文昌縣, 海南島 is used instead.

First we clear the area of stray grass and ashes. Then a set of incense and candles are lit for the Earth God, whom we thank for looking after Ah Fo's resting place. Tea leaves and little snacks are also offered to this image of a kindly old man dressed in classical Chinese robes.

Mum starts laying out Ah Fo's favorite dishes on the raised section before the headstone. Again, incense and candles are lit. My brother and sister-in-law spreads pieces of paper money and colored paper on the grass mound behind the headstone, and pull out little weeds. Little Chloe wanders around, looking curiously at the rows and rows of graves that stretch as far as the eye could see.
Each one of us takes turns to pay our respects.

"Ah Fo, how are you? It's me, your littlest grandchild."
Sorry for not coming for so many years.
Please continue to bless us with your love.
We miss you and hope that you're well."

... so speak the living in remembrance of the dearly departed.

The paper money is then burnt, whole stacks of currency with vivid drawings of deities and the trappings of Paradise. Some of which have been folded into ingots to resemble taels of gold and silver used in olden days.

At that point, it started drizzling, but we didn't budge. Neither did the other families out that day. Somehow, the rain seemed fitting.

A beautiful poem I was forced to learn in school goes:

清明時節雨紛紛，
路上行人欲斷魂。
借問酒家何處有？
牧童遙指杏花村。

The Jekylls and the Hydes

2010-04-06T00:51:00.000+09:00

They come stealthily in the night, slithering over the fence. Under the cover of darkness, their insidious fingers silently snake across the water pipes and reach for the faucet that doesn't belong to them. When they think no one is looking, the tap is skilfully turned and the water, plundered.

In the early dawn, spurred on by some unknown primeval instinct, they rise before any other creature does and stalk the newspaper delivery man. Not quite comprehending that every copy delivered is identical, they follow him and again when no one is looking, extend grasping limbs into gated driveways to pilfer any newspaper that doesn't land beyond reach. The occupants of those houses will still be blissfully asleep.

Large items of trash would magically appear beside other houses' trashcans, left perhaps as gifts for the unsuspecting occupants.

By day, the Hydes revert to Jekylls, behaving impeccably, going about their lives as any self-respecting citizen will--leaving for work, sending their kids to school, doing laundry and exchanging friendly greetings with everyone else. "Hey, good morning, how are you," "Let me show you this great recipe..."

When night falls, the cycle repeats in a dark comedic fashion... with zero traces of irony. What they lack for in their own home, no one knows. Whether or not it is the leftover trauma of some past misfortune, no one knows. I'd like to ask some day, if I feel like starting a fight.

This is the Strange Case of the Neighbors Next Door.

Rendezvous with a living fossil

2010-03-29T00:24:00.000+09:00

At the end of a nameless track in Kranji Industrial Estate near the Causeway bridge between Singapore and Malaysia, there lies a roughly 1-km stretch of mudflats. The sea meets small coastal tributaries at several points, creating a greyish sticky mixture of mostly silt and sand. All types of trash and flotsam can be found amidst the scum..

In these mudflats which look totally dull and devoid of life, a species that has existed and barely changed for 400 million years thrive.

The humble Mangrove Horseshoe crab, Carcinoscorpius rotundicauda. Not a crab but more closely-related to spiders and scorpions, it is recognizable by its distinctive armored carapace. Mostly armored head followed by a spiny tail, it seems.

Its blood contains a substance that is supposedly valuable to medical science as a reliable test for bacterial toxins.

There are only four species left in the world, and two of them reside in Singapore. I still can't quite wrap my mind around this statistical anomaly.

On a blazing Saturday afternoon, eleven volunteers gathered near the stinky mud to hear Dr Lesley Cartwright-Taylor from the Nature Society explain the afternoon's activity.

"Alright everyone, thank you for coming. What we're going to do is quite simple really. We're going to catch them, bring them to this table to be measured, and release them afterwards."

"Now they are incredibly docile creatures so don't be afraid to handle them. Never pick them up by their tails 'cos they might come off. And a horseshoe crab without a tail will die quickly as it wouldn't have an apparatus to swim or to flip itself over. Just gently pick them up by their sides."

Off we went trudging into the mud, wearing wellies, booties and whatever water footwear we had. Mine were low-heeled sneakers made of a single piece of pure rubber, affectionately dubbed, "the kampung adidas." Apparently rubber rappers in Malaysia wear them for work. They worked well on the mudflats, allowing me to squelch lustily out into the areas where the crabs might be.

I was soon mired in ankle-deep mud though, which seeped into my shoes, making extrication of each step from the increasingly sticky mud harder by the minute. Taking any step soon became a strange pantomime--first you put your weight on one foot and strain to free the other from the mud. When that foot is finally torn free in a noisy sucking slurp, your momentum suddenly shifts towards your planted foot so you pivot desperately to retain your balance and try not to fall face-first into the muck. All this time your 'stable' foot sinks yet further into the quagmire.

Iqbal, my trainer, had an exceptional eye for the crabs. They generally bury themselves, leaving only trails or little raised sections on the mudflats' surface. He taught me to bend low and look for slightly-rounded sections in the surrounding mud; to detect the slightest of movements that the younger ones will make to swim further away from us; to poke a finger into a suspicious mound to feel for the distinctive armored carapace and little spikes.

I was elated at finding my first adult crab. My finger dipped into the mud and encountered something spiky. *poke*poke*, I tapped, hoping for a response. Tracing the line of spikes, a long tail sticking out from a flat, rounded shell was quickly discovered. I hooked my thumb and pinky round the sides and happily extricated it from the mud.

A creature that came into being long before the dinosaurs did, and which survived the mass extinctions and planetary catastrophes that killed the terrible lizards, in my hand. It bent over in some sort of defensive manuveur, waving its five pairs of legs in protest. I was awed. They will probably survive humans as well, if we let them.

It was some sort of mating season, for we captured many coupling pairs, the male on top, clasping the female with his bulbous front appendages and generally hanging on until the act is consumated. One volunteer even discovered a threesome. Young horseshoe crabs nowadays... tsk tsk.

As the afternoon wore by, the tide began to creep in and our backs ached from the constant crouching. I wanted to take pictures of the process but was quickly thwarted by the challenge of keeping my hands clean to use the camera. Darn.

Eventually, after several catch-and-release cycles, Lesley called a halt to the proceedings and declared that we were done for the day.

The tally: 234 crabs, with the largest(invariably female) measured at around 14cm across, and lots of juveniles. Apparently the total was similar to that of the previous attempt, so that was good.

When they were put back onto the mud, the crabs didn't really showed any urgency in getting away from the strange bipedal creatures who rudely disrupted their afternoon naps, dumped them into a bucket, and unceremoniously laid tape measures on them. Some were even separated from their other halves. Still, they seemed to glide away nonchalantly, not bothered in the least.

Lesley posed the next question. "if only there's a good way of tagging them to record their movements."
"People have done that in North America, so we've been in touch with those guys to find out how they did it. Hopefully we can use similar equipment."
"So little is known about the crabs' habits in this part of the world."

How would you put a transmitter on a crab? Away from the sensory organs at the front probably, so as not to disrupt its normal activities. The tag has to be light and disposable because as soon as the crab moults, it's lost forever. So it can't record and save data either. The folks who did it successfully used radio tags and manually oriented receiving antennas over the bay, in trial-and-error fashion. That worked well it seemed.

Hopefully answers will emerge in due time. We have until the next full moon to find out. I returned with newfound respect for the horsecrab crab.

Scientists say that it is precisely the ability to survive in this kind of brackish boundary between the land and the sea that contributes to their longevity. Charles Darwin wrote of differing rates of evolution--speciation, morphological changes. Apparently organisms who have no/little need to change(to escape predation, to acclimatize to new conditions) shouldn't change that much. The humble horseshoe crab certainly seems to illustrate this point.

Raindrops keep falling on my head

2010-03-14T20:31:00.000+09:00

After a scorching February I was already longing for the cool end-of-year rainy season, a kind of winter for those of us in the tropics.

I would be drenched in perspiration by the time I get to the train station. All around, the grass dried up and turned a combustible shade of brown. People started wearing resigned, heat-withered expressions and an unmistakable air of anticipation slowly built up.

Kazumi-sensei recalls March last year as a rather wet month; with almost daily rain showers. "Strange," she remarked.

Worse, the notorious haze created by slash-and-burn agriulture in (probably) Indonesia resurfaced, clogging the air with tiny ash particles and imparting a burnt smell one immediately detects upon going outdoors. No more jogging then, until it abated.

Finally, and the sense of relief was evident on people's faces, blogs and Facebook updates, the heavens opened.

*Patter*patter*patter* A welcoming crescendo of raindrops swept against the window panes. The walk to the train station immediately seemed much more enjoyable.

Walking in the rain with only a small foldable umbrella, I hugged my backpack closer. Steam rose from the hot asphalt in sighing contentment. The fragrance of wet grass and leaves wafted in the air. People hurriedly retreated into houses and nearby cafes for shelter, taking a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of daily life.

The world descended into a kind of quiet serenity. Few other passers-by remained on the streets, leaving me alone to appreciate the sudden emptiness.

*Patter*patter*patter* Nothing else seemed to exist except for the sound of rain on my umbrella. Sometimes the wind playfully sent rain onto me from various directions. Changing the angle of the umbrella to defend myself from the teasing raindrops became a game, the umbrella a magical shield, the wind and rain a onslaught of elemental energy.

Upon reaching the beach, the rain stopped, leaving only cumulo-nimbus clouds high up in the sky. The grass quickly dried, leaving perfect campsites. The air was fresh again, not in the crisp way it was in the mountains, but still refreshing with a saltish tang from the sea.

Because of the rain, the skies cleared up and the constellations revealed themselves overhead. Orion, Canis Major, Taurus and even the Red Planet, if our iPhone app was to be believed.

Reclining on the ground, gazing at the stars with coconut trees outlined against the night sky, I listened to the unceasing song of the waves. The unrelenting heat before the rains became just a memory for the time being.

The Moon By Whale Light - Diane Ackerman

2010-03-11T23:39:00.000+09:00

http://www.amazon.com/Moon-Whale-Light-Adventures-Crocodilians/dp/0679742263

Amazing writing by a naturalist-poet-author:
"After all, mind is such an odd predicament for matter to get into. I often marvel at how something like hydrogen, the simplest atom, forged in some early chaos of the universe, could lead to us and the gorgeous fever we call consciousness. If a mind is just a few pounds of blood, dream, and electric, how does it manage to contemplate itself, worry about its soul, do time-and-motion studies, admire the shy hooves of a goat, know that it will die, enjoy all the grand and lesser mayhems of the heart? What is mind, that one can be out of one's? How can a neuron feel compassion? What is a self? Why did automatic, hand-me-down mammals like our ancestors somehow evolve brains with the ability to consider, imagine, project, compare, abstract, think of the future? If our experience of mind is really just the simmering of an easily alterable, chemical stew, then what does it mean to know something, to want something, to be? How do you begin with hydrogen and end up with prom dresses, jealousy, chamber music? What is music that it can satisfy such a mind, and even perhaps function as language?"

Sometimes comprehending too much impedes understanding

2010-03-01T22:05:00.000+09:00

I've had the good fortune of meeting a couple of good friends through a series of language exchanges. Starting from high-school-level ability in the language each of us is learning, over time we've helped one another improve in written, verbal and cultural communication.

Because my vocabulary is limited, complex emotions are expressed in simpler "good" vs "bad" terms, and intricacies are often reduced to toddler-speak. Somehow, this simpler way of communication helped us break the ice and trust the other person more. Over time, our friendship became purer an more innocent, like a throwback to the days when friendships were readily forged at the playground.

The Tissue Paper Lady

2010-01-28T22:43:00.000+09:00

(Reposted from my Facebook Notes)

On the way to the train station one day, I crossed a notoriously-busy intersection with loads of human traffic everyday.

It was there that I saw her; standing near the traffic light, sun-baked arms extended outwards, half-crooked, offering packets of Kleenex.

In Singapore, Kleenex peddlers come in all shapes and guises. Some brazenly thrust their wares in one's face; others bring elderly/handicapped companions in tow, hoping that sympathy would translate into purchase or two. Most are used to being turned down, and for various reasons empathy is in short order.

It is with a sense of shame that I recall feeling annoyed as I approached the crossing. 'She knows very well that lots of people would walk past her, hence the stakeout.'

Our eyes met, and I felt as if someone ha doused a pail of ice-cold water on me. Even for that fleeting half-second, I was shocked by what I saw.

How should I describe it... Her wizened and care-worn face, seemingly locked in a seller's relentless mask to keep pressing for a sale. Yet her expression also seemed convey a kind of dignity in desperation, as if she's saying, 'Look, I don't like doing this any more than you do, but I have to and I will survive.'

At that moment, the overwhelming thought in my mind was that this old lady had probably been standing around in the sun the whole day; that she wasn't just a tissue-paper peddler--she's also a real person, a little girl, a teenager, a young woman, possibly a mother and even a grandmother.

I didn't buy, and I was troubled.

Meeting with prospects

2009-11-02T17:43:00.003+09:00

Last week we had an initial meeting with a customer--details are hush-hush at this point of course but suffice to say they have impressive educational/research facilities. They kindly bought us lunch in an opulent banquet room although I have to say that both of us were too busy listening and making sure that pieces of food were not stuck in our teeth while we were talking, to really enjoy the food! Pity, really, because it was a sumptuous spread.

After the pleasantries, we explained who we are, what we do and gave a demo of the current simulation platform--a canned demo where Verilog source code for a simple counter was compiled via our web interface and server, and then the resultant waveform files debugged via the web browser as well. Our audience seemed reasonably pleased and asked for more details, which was very encouraging for us to say the least.

The questions we received included:
- Does your tool have the same feature-set as the tools from C and S (major industry players)
- How can we provide a complete learning experience for our users?
- Will our IT staff be able to integrate your platform with relative ease?
...
etc.

It may sound silly, but from the meeting and from subsequent discussions with other prospects, I started to get a feel for the dynamics at a customer's site. Besides identifying the right people to pitch to, and cultivating the ability to sincerely listen, I realized that I have to put each different individual's reaction and requests in the context of their roles in the customer's organization. For example, a relatively junior engineer is likely to care more about the ease of use rather than how a solution scales. A person who works within the boundaries of his/her job description is likely to be receptive only to points that fall within that description and not to "How can things be improved beyond the scope"-type of suggestions.

With these in mind, we're preparing proposals for the next round of interaction. It may be a slow process but already it is pretty rewarding!

Of course, at a demo, be sure to check with the coordinators if they have the necessary equipment. For us, fortunately we had everything so all we needed was a wireless network connection. Thank goodness for the free (as in $0) Wireless@SG!

All these would not have been possible without YC's kind introduction to the powers-that-be, of course. Thanks again, YC!

Pavlovian conditioning

2009-10-01T09:53:00.003+09:00

Sounds I've gotten conditioned to recently include:

- The frantic peals of a train's sliding doors just before they close. Time to make a split-second decision--make a run for it and risk embarrassment if the doors slam in my face, or wait for the next train arriving two minutes later.

= The sputtering of the paper boy's scooter in the driveway. Time to wake up and start the day with the news... earthquake in Sumatra, soccer player exodus to Indonesia, world economy recovering, my USD to be worth less than the paper they're printed on soon.

- Maniacal laughter from the office next door. Time to take my earphones out and let iTunes drown the noise out. 'S great that they're having fun, but someone's trying to code here darn it. Would be better if they stay later into the night so this building won't resemble a haunted house though.

What sounds have you gotten conditioned to lately?

Overheard Pearls of Wisdom, Tuesday, Sep 15 2009

2009-09-15T18:49:00.002+09:00

"Being matchmade or being the matchmaker - its like being a tenant and a landlord. in your life you will hopefully be both at one time or another" - Dawn Hoh

Trash disposal in my 'hood

2009-07-27T17:53:00.003+09:00

Like Germany, Japan has pretty nice trash disposal regulations. According to this handy guide at the entrance to my apartment building, one is supposed to bring out specific types of trash on designated days before 8am. Contained in special standardized trash disposal bags of course. And no parking anywhere near this sign unless you want the social wrath(pressure?) of the neighbors and of the trash disposal folks unleashed upon you for disrupting the collective harmony.

Laughter is the best medicine

2009-06-21T18:37:00.000+09:00

One thing I've come to feel is that the Japanese sense of humor is rather similar to that in China, Taiwan, Hong Kong or Singapore. Or maybe it's just me misunderstanding the punchlines.

Humor comes in many forms--from the subtle to the very much in-your-face; it doesn't have to be verbal, and is not limited by genres. One of my former managers was an expert in the 親父ギャグ(oyaji gag), a genre that relies on bad puns. With his deadpan delivery and sudden, exaggerated facial expressions, most people cringe at his jokes but I would be rolling on the floor, almost in tears. In the vocabulary of my high school, he was 很屁.

Plum blossoms!

2009-03-26T07:55:00.001+09:00

Taken in 松島, off the Northeastern coast of Japan.

Warmer winters?

2009-03-08T19:29:00.000+09:00

Whether or not it is due to global climate change, I've noticed changes in the weather compared to last year's, both in Tokyo and in Singapore.

For example, Frosty the snowman was noticeably late this winter. Last year in Tokyo we experiened snowfall that accumulated and caused trains to be delayed; this year, hardly any snow and even when it came, it was more frozen rain than anything. Outside my window on the 34th floor, big snowflakes drifted down one day, occasionally hastened by the wind. But they melted as soon as they landed. Even a solitary bird that was forlornly flapping around in the midst of the snow shower didn't seemed too bothered.

In Singapore, the monsoon winds were supposed to bring rain at the end of January. Instead, there was scarcely a drop of precipitation, resulting in a strangely cool and breezy Chinese New Year.

Elsewhere, the pattern seemed reversed. When I went to Sapporo, it snowed heavily for an entire week, making Niseko's slopes the best I had tumbled down in Japan so far. It was cold. Apparently when Hokkaido residents discuss the temperature in winter, the "minus" prefix is implied.

In the southern reaches of the Izu peninsula, plum trees were supposed to bloom in mid-January; instead, the annual Plum Blossom Festival got extended due to a no-show by the flowers, all the way until this weekend when I went. And even now, they haven't reached the peak. The open-air onsen overlooking the sea was great though.

And of course people have been telling me about the snowstorms in the Northeast of the United States. That made me remember fondly the frozen walk late at night from the lab to my apartment back in my college days. The pavement would be slick with ice, flanked by neat forts of snow that the plows had built. Sometimes, a mischevious wind would dance in front of Webster Hall, stirring up fresh snow and launching pretty little snow tornados.

What would life be like without the four seasons?

Singapore blooms as lush as Eden itself

2009-02-28T23:04:00.003+09:00

Never expected the (is)land of my birth to be compared to the biblical Creation, but in the words of a clearly enlightened ;P traveler:

Singapore blooms as lush as Eden itself
Linda Watanabe McFerrin
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2009/02/27/CM7N15HAED.DTL

"Ah, that fragrance is beautiful, like gardenia or tuberose."

I am standing in a perfectly groomed Eden, a few feet away from a tumbling waterfall, gazing into the dark eyes of a man who looks both ancient and young.

"It is a butterfly lily," he explains. The white blossom is perfectly reflected in the black eyes of Rahman Salleh, grounds manager and my guide through the gardens of Shangri-la.

No, not the legendary Himalayan lamasery and paradise celebrated in James Hilton's 1933 novel "Lost Horizon," but a hotel in Singapore, the first property in a luxury chain built on the principles of the lush utopian kingdom.

A breeze rustles the fronds of the fishtail palms, giving their long, Rasta-look seedpods a vigorous shake. We continue our walk through the oasis, past fan and hurricane palms, delicate gingers, past the waterfalls, koi ponds and pools where pleasantly braised and toasted guests loll. All have beatific smiles on their sun-dazed faces. So do I. I've come to Singapore, after an absence of many years, to rediscover paradise - the lush, leafy heart of a nation better known for its obsessions with commercial success. I think I've found it here. But this is not the only slice of heaven in this land of sunlight, flowers and friendly people.

Singapore is, in many ways, a little miracle. Young by any standards - the 273-square-mile island nation is only 43 years old - although it is a little over a quarter of the size of Rhode Island and is one of the most crowded countries in the world (around 16,000 residents per square mile), it is also one of the cleanest and most picturesque, and its gross domestic product ranks high. Its ethnically and religiously diverse people - mostly Chinese, Malay, Indian - are well-educated and live and work in apparent harmony. English is the universal language in Singapore, though Mandarin Chinese, Malay, Tamil and others deemed "mother tongues" are also taught and studied.

Unfortunately, what most Westerners know about Singapore is limited to the restrictions imposed on its citizens by a repressive government that dictates the mix of races; regulates reproductive matters, public housing and other seemingly personal matters; bans chewing gum, canes kids and keeps a stranglehold on the media. Westerners know that it's commercial, that its citizens are materialistic, and that the food and the shopping are great. I must admit, headquartered in the towering pagoda of the Singapore Marriott on Orchard Road, where the swell of humanity ebbs and flows above and below ground through high-rise department stores and high-end boutiques, this assumption seems accurate.

But beyond this, beyond the rules and the regulations and the obsession with making and spending money, is another Singapore, a Singapore as graceful and gracious as the mythical utopia that Hilton conjured for readers, a place that I, like Hilton's hero, Conway, never leave without a pang of longing.

Partly it's the people. The Singaporeans I have met are swift: quick in business, quick to learn new things and quick to welcome you. But another reason I love the place is the order and harmony that is one of the outcomes of the nation's strict governance. Even in the midst of massive urbanization and modernization, Singapore has managed to retain much of its tropical island ambience. Ten percent of the country's limited space is devoted to green zones: to parks and nature areas. And then, of course, there are the islands.

Singapore, itself an island separated from the Malaysian mainland by the Strait of Johor, is surrounded by 35 smaller islands. Boomerang-shaped Pulau Ubin, a mere 10 minutes away by bumboat, is a little less than 4 square miles of abandoned granite quarries, coconut and rubber plantations, mangrove and coastal forests, seagrass lagoons and rocky shore. It is home to some of Singapore's last traditional villages, or kampongs, and to the beautiful Chek Jawa Wetlands, where anemones, cowries, volutes, sea stars, sea horses and a myriad of other forms of rarely seen water and land life abound. You can rent a van to take you about the island, but the best way to see Pulau Ubin is to rent a bike when you arrive or set out on foot along one of the many trails that traverse it. Stop for a cold chrysanthemum tea along the way or join schoolchildren, families and others for a quick bite at one of the island's tiny trailside eateries.

It takes a little longer to get to Kusu Island. Access is by ferry, which sets out from the Marina South Pier and stops at sleepy St. John's Island. Once a quarantine facility for lepers, today St. John's draws visitors interested in family outings, a quiet shoreline stroll or an intimate seaside picnic. Kusu or Tortoise Island is a bit busier. Every year, at a certain point in the lunar calendar, nearly 90,000 Taoist devotees make the trip to Kusu to pay homage and pray for the five blessings: longevity, wealth, tranquility, health of body and peace of mind. The rest of the year it is peaceful, with little to distract from the stunning seascapes. Legend has it that a giant sea turtle turned itself into this island to save two shipwrecked sailors, one Chinese, the other Malay. Today its offspring are everywhere. On my recent visit, I threw a few wishful coins into the lotus in front of Tua Pekong Temple, climbed the 152 steps to Kramat Kusu, the Muslim shrine that sits at the high point of the island, and communed with the turtles. Their message was clear: Slow down.

Other islands around Singapore include Subar Laut (Big Sister Island) and Subar Darat (Little Sister Island), named for two beautiful sisters, Minah and Lina, who escaped kidnapping by jumping into the sea; Pulau Hantu, which is great for diving; and Pulau Satumu, another top diving location. It is surrounded by rich coral reefs, and the lighthouse on the island is more than a century old.

Perhaps the most popular, though, is Sentosa Island. If there is a fantasy island, I believe this is it.

You can take the expressway to get to Sentosa or you can swing into the scene on the aerial cable car, which will drop you off in Imbiah right next to the Butterfly Park and the Insect Kingdom. Rasa Sentosa, on Siloso Point on the western end of the island, is a beachfront property with a playful Disney-like atmosphere. With its long white beaches and round-the-clock activities, it's a favorite of Singaporean families and visitors who want to go from zero to a hundred and back again in a few short steps. If the Underwater World, Flying Trapeze, Luge and Skyride, Fish Reflexology spa (where the fish nibble dead skin off your feet) or friendly pythons don't grab you, try a little beach volleyball, a snooze on the sand or a cocktail at one of the numerous restaurants, lounges and seaside cafes. Peacocks and monkeys roam the grounds as do blissed-out children and adults.

Further inland, on the eastern side of the island, the Sentosa Resort & Spa, adjacent to Sentosa Golf Club, caters to a more serene crowd. The resort is home to Spa Botanica, one of the most luxurious in Asia, where clients are treated to a wide range of therapies, indoors and out. Massages, scrubs, baths, body wraps, manicures, pedicures, scalp treatments - every imaginable therapy is on the menu. The pampering takes place indoors (private rooms) or outdoors (exquisite personal pavilions). You can opt for hours of hands-on relaxation or you can spend the day at leisure, wandering amid the frangipani and ferns on the facility's tropically landscaped grounds, enjoying the tea house, swimming pools, cascading waterfalls, volcanic mud pool, meditation labyrinths, float pools, whirlpools and inviting umbrellas of shade.

Returning from Sentosa to Singapore Island does not mean you have to abandon the sense of island calm. It's always mere minutes away in a country and city where colorful districts like Chinatown and Little India are tucked in between great clouds of green. Chief among these and a must for anyone who wants to really feel the green pulse of this carefully landscaped city, is Singapore Botanic Gardens. Established in 1859, these gardens precisely illustrate the close connection between the world of nature and the well being of humanity and exemplify the balance that Singapore's leaders mean to preserve. This is, after all, where 'Hevea brasiliensis,' or Para rubber, was first grown and cultivated in Asia, introducing a crop that would transform the region's economy and usher in a new era of prosperity and modernization.

It is also home to major developments in orchid breeding and hybridization. The National Orchid Garden is a riot of vibrant color, sometimes laced with the faint smell of vanilla, which happens to be an orchid as well. Like the other gardens in the 155-plus-acre complex of lakes, meadows, kiosks, information centers and cafes, they are not simply eye candy; they instruct. The Botany Center located near Tanglin Gate at the park's entrance is an education center that houses important resources like the Singapore Herbarium, the Library of Botany and Horticulture and the Orchid Breeding and Micropropagation Laboratory.

For all their beauty, the Singapore Botanic Gardens are not about romantic notions of nature; they are about the inter-relationship of man and his environment, and in that sense, they are - like just about everything in Singapore - pragmatic. This is nature with a purpose, and that purpose, in some worldviews, is to serve man, just as man's purpose is to be an able and responsible steward of the natural world. This philosophy is explicit throughout the park: in gardens that highlight the commercial contributions of the vegetable kingdom, trace the evolution of plants or teach children to create and explore in a flowering world; in the careful integration of people-friendly structures and meticulously maintained landscapes and in the property's promotion as a popular attraction. Admission to just about everything is free. In the morning, the park is full of parents and children, dog walkers, joggers, cyclists, martial arts practitioners, friends, lovers and a few savvy tourists.

I could spend months in those gardens and possibly years becoming more familiar with Singapore's 300 large and small parks. But, as luck would have it, my trip led elsewhere.

My final day in Singapore was spent at HortPark, the gardening and lifestyle hub of the island country. In this 56-acre regional park full of greenhouses, flower marts, display plots, floral walks, galleries, activity centers and event lawns, the community coalesces around horticultural and landscaping issues, from preparing a new, young generation of gardeners, to greening the Singapore of the future. Some of my last heady moments on the island were spent in the midst of that vision as I sat listening to a short lecture on the National Parks Board's latest ecological adventure.

Their proposed Gardens by the Bay community will occupy around 250 acres of prime waterfront land designed to frame urban dwellers in a serene mantle of ecologically balanced, technologically supported and sustainable greenery.

Among the features under development are Cool Conservatories, massive multi-acre, all-weather glass structures that will showcase flora using sustainable energy technologies. In the Gardens at Marina South, SuperTrees - 98- to 180-foot structures each covered with a living "skin" of greenery - will function very much like natural trees, housing photovoltaic cells in their canopies and collecting the rainwater essential to the Cool Conservatories, even as they provide shade and visual beauty for the people who move beneath them.

The developments go on and on, all focused on marrying technology and nature for the betterment of man. Artificial or not, it's a wise direction in our use-it-or-lose-it day and age. Sitting there, amazed, it occurs to me that what they are doing here is re-engineering Paradise. In Singapore, they are not so much bemoaning a lost horizon as finding a new one.--

WAGs in 六本木

2009-02-19T18:50:00.000+09:00

Yesterday in the elevator of the Ritz-Carlton Tokyo(which I learned was actually a franchise and not run by the real Ritz-Carlton but that's another story), a friend I was with nudged me with her elbow, drawing my attention to two ladies standing behind us.

Dressed to the nines, every inch radiating wealth and snottiness. Body language that could perhaps be best described as, "haughty." I suddenly felt privileged to be breathing the same air in the same enclosed as them.

Which of course led us to speculating where they might be from. Have they not heard of the economic crisis that has brought low most parts of the world?

"Psst, they are carrying USD12,000 handbags," my ever-observant companion remarked.

Holy cow, someone please smite the people who would murder crocodiles to make those bags; I don't care how much they cost.

Then they spoke in the language and accent of the nouveau riche and all was revealed--mainland Chinese.

Not that I blame them for being well-off; it was just funny to see 2 chavs up close. They could be philanthropists for all I know.

Smile using chopsticks

2009-02-16T10:31:00.000+09:00

Yet another use for the humble chopstick, as suggested by the Panasonic Beauty Magazine.

(Rough translation)
Start off the day with a smile! Lift the spirits of those around you and project a cheerful image! Forcing yourself to smile seems difficult at first but it will eventually be natural and has many health benefits.

Simple way to practize: bite a pair of chopsticks so that both ends protrude from the sides of your mouth. Use a mirror to confirm that your resulting smile is not lopsided or forced.

Personal comment: Pick chopsticks which don't splinter easily and whose ends are relatively uniform in diameter, otherwise one might end up with pierced lips ; )

"Greening the Ghetto"

2009-02-11T16:42:00.004+09:00

Never expected a speech on Urban Renewal to move me to tears but hey guys, check out Majora Carter's standing-ovation-worthy presentation at TED if you haven't done so:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=2883494385256707942

First heard about her from Guy Kawasaki's blog; incidentally in an entry about great public speaking skills. But after listening to Ms. (by now, Mrs. ) Carter's speech, I was all ready to help plant a tree in the South Bronx... that's how powerful her delivery was.

Which made me realize, Singapore's urban planners have done a pretty good job since the 1980s.

建国記念日 (KenKokuKinenBi)

2009-02-11T15:26:00.000+09:00

Independence Day is probably not the best translation but that's the general one for February 11th here in Japan. Like last year, I almost forgot that it was a public holiday until a coupla' days before. When planning lunch with my cousins, Wednesday was proposed, and I went, "Sure, in the evening, right?"
"E~! You have to go to work on Wednesday?!"

And so it was, returning home on a Tuesday night feeling strangely relaxed, sort of like how it feels on a Friday night. Even better, waking up on a wintery Wednesday morning and realizing that there is no need to leave the warm nest of blankets!

So what are ordinary citizens doing to commemorate this day? Like last year, I half-expected parades and fireworks or at least some form of public address from the Imperial household... but nope, seems like just another day. My neighbors did put up a flag though. Some celebrations must be going on somewhere else. Anyway, I wished co-workers a Happy Independence Day before I left on Tuesday and we had a good laugh.

Chocs surprise

2009-02-11T12:09:00.000+09:00

For Valentine's Day our Admin aka the most "in-the-know" person in the office gave each of us an exquisitely-wrapped box of premium chocolates. I thought that was a really nice gesture, given that she's the only girl in our group of twenty and probably the lowest-paid employee.

It's well-known that in Japan, the ladies typically give chocolates to the gents on Feb 14th, followed by a reciprocal gift(usually also chocolates) a month later. Even though giving something in return is said to mean that one is interested, I think it's only natural to give my (married) admin something in return. She's hilarious, and the only person in the company who can use informal language with the CEO! <- another fascinating case study of inter-personal relationships in Japanese culture.

Anyway, for her gifts, I hope I don't end up making the same gaffe as a co-worker when he was thirteen. So it was the first time he had to buy a gift for a girl who gave him chocolates. Being young and impatient, he grabbed the first pretty box he saw at the nearby konbini and presented it to her. The following day, she came up to him, pigtails, quivering in amusement.
"Do you know what's in the box you gave me?"
"Err... not really."
"Well check this out", and she waved a pair of lacy panties (oversized, too) in front of him!
Needless to say, his whole class remembers the story to this day :)

Happy CNY!

2009-02-10T20:17:00.000+09:00

The weather back home must have been the coolest in years. After the freezing conditions in Tokyo, it was good to experience the 20s(that's C not F) again. On top of that, sleeping with the windows open and without the need for a fan/air conditioning! Almost unheard of since global warming caused the mercury to creep up steadily over the past decade. Apparently the monsoon rain failed to materialse, only the winds did. Perhaps the experts are right--the tropics will cool down while parts of the world which are supposed to have milder weather are experiencing more extreme conditions.

Anyway, weather aside, Singapore on the whole seemed nicer than ever. People were falling over themselves to give up seats on the train(so much that I decided to stand so I don't have to constantly look out for the elderly/people in need!), customer service was friendlier(still a far cry from Japan's) and best of all, my little nieces and nephew are starting to walk! This meant I had to shepherd them anxiously up and down the stairs 'cos that's the first place they usually head for. Their parents, however, seemed almost relieved to entrust them to me for a few minutes so they could catch a breather ; )

The flight back wasn't bad either--streching out horizontally on a Boeing A380 and enjoying an uninterrupted snooze. The plane was solidly constructed, for takeoff and landing barely caused any disturbance. Very impressed.

Happy Niu Year everyone!

Mobile Blogging from here.

Nine-year-old writes iPhone app

2009-02-10T11:03:00.000+09:00

Just read about this kid on Singapore on the Beeb. His younger sisters wanted a drawing app so he rolled up his Primary 3 sleeves and wrote one : ) Now it's even in the App Store.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/technology/7874291.stm
果然长江后浪推前浪、一代新人胜旧人。ね。

でき婚 (Dekikon)

2009-02-09T19:51:00.004+09:00

Short for できちゃった結婚 (Dekichatta Kekkon) -- literally, "oops-did-it marriage!"

Learned a new word recently describing a shotgun marriage. Apparently the rage nowadays which is not to say I disapprove or approve. Everyone has his/her way of doing things and it is interesting to see/hear reactions from people of different cultures.

What do you think, dear readers?

Meow meow meow meow.... meow?

2009-01-09T22:11:00.001+09:00

Japanese cat in a temple
Originally uploaded by catherine.caf

The other night i walked by the temple next door on the way home and heard a cat meow. Actually, a series of quizzical meows coming from the temple grounds, so i peeked in and this fat tabby lounging on a bench looked at me calmly as if saying, "Have you seen her?"

i shook my head no., wondering if I should climb over the fence to find out more, but the feline seemed content so i shrugged, "Not sure who you're referring to but you seem okay." and walked on.

Further down the street, I heard the same kind of meows but from a different cat. Looking around, lo and behold, what if it wasn't another tabby resting under a bicycle. It was gazing down the street, towards the temple. I'm pretty sure the two tabbies could hear each other, but just to make sure, I moved closer to the second cat who suddenly noticed me and gave me the same look.

Making sure that no human was around to overhear, I told it, "Hey, your friend's in the temple grounds. He's alright," and hurriedly continued along in case someone heard me talking to a cat!

Maybe I'm losing it...

お雑煮、おせち料理

2009-01-04T18:53:00.007+09:00

お雑煮
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Had my first taste of this traditional Japanese New Year dish yesterday.

Full of the richness of miso, wine, rice and meat, perfect on a cold winter's day.

More than that; the feeling of togetherness and caring warmth made yesterday's dinner very special indeed. It was a privilege to have been invited into the 霜鳥 household and treated just like part of the family--the distant nephew with the weird Japanese accent :)

Yum, yum, I get hungry just looking at the pictures.

Comparing education systems

2008-12-14T01:16:00.003+09:00

Recently I heard a fascinating story from an old friend.

In an organization which shall remain unnamed, there were three team leaders, one US-educated, one Japan-educated, and one Singapore-educated--college, that is.

When faced with a project, the US graduate's team could usually define the problem and come up with a plan to tackle the problem.

The Japan graduate's team needed help most of the time in defining the problem and would spend more time formulating a plan, but would often come up with the best solution.

Alas, the Singapore graduate's team needed the most guidance and often could not perform either task well.

Thoughts?

上海滩 from 浦东

2008-12-13T11:24:00.001+09:00

上海滩 from 浦东
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Apparently, Dongdong had never seen low tide on the 黄浦江 before. To me, everything was new anyway and the view was certainly spectacular. So this was Shanghai. Number 1 in Asia in the early 1900s before civil unrest, war and everything. I thought about Cheng Nien's Life and Death in Shanghai, and about the rapid pace of change happening nowadays. Dongdong said that every 2-3 years, everything changes. Until the 2010 Expo, streets will be repaved, households will be relocated, spanking new buildings, new train lines will be built. But I hope 小杨生煎 will still be there.

西伊豆の夕日、Sunset in West Izu

2008-12-13T11:08:00.002+09:00

IMG_6207
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

This sunset has to be the most spectacular one I've seen in a long while. The last one was probably... back in the Florida Keys during Spring Break in college. Gazing out at the ocean, seeing the horizon curving ever so slightly, all my worries (lucky to not have many in the first place) just slipped away.

上海大闸蟹

2008-12-13T01:24:00.001+09:00

IMG_6248
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Finally got a chance to taste the genuine laser-tagged Shanghai hairy crab! Very different from Sri Lankan mud crabs and tasty in its own way. Have to say that the female is yummier than the male. Well-worth the price.

Tanah Merah MRT

2008-12-09T20:00:00.001+09:00

Tanah Merah MRT
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Every time I set out from home, be it heading to school, to the wet market, to the hawker centres for a bite or to meet friends in town, I would inevitably end up on the West-bound platform of Tanah Merah MRT station.

"Boon Lay / Yishun train coming in 3 minutes..." the digital display usually reads.

I would be standing on the platform, trying not to perspire, "心静自然凉" as they say, but more often than not resistance against the tropical sun was futile.

Ever since the station was built back in the late 80s, I've watched, even counted, a tidy row of 96 (or is it 97?) saplings steadily growing from the hillside opposite the platform.

(What the picture shows is actually the East-bound side)

Those 96 little buddies always waited with me, be it sun or rain or flashing thunderstorm, seeing me off safely onto the train and waiting for me to come home. Now they tower above me with their stout branches and lush leaves reaching for the sky and almost casting shadows on the station itself.

How many birds, squirrels and little critters have rested beneath the 96 canopies, how many generations of commuters have they seen everyday, waiting for the MRT?

I look forward to seeing you guys soon.

Still alive

2008-11-24T17:39:00.003+09:00

This post is in reply to Datou's enquiry as to whether I am still alive as my last post was when the leaves were still green on the trees.

Now it's 8C outside and raining. I'm wondering if I should go out for dinner, but a promise is a promise...

Got lots of updates coming soon... watch this space.

善 and Karma

2008-08-14T22:22:00.003+09:00

ある日、仕事が終わった後、大きい通りに沿って自転車に乗っていた。家と近い所の横道を渡る時、いきなり飛んで来た白い車にぶつかったよ。運転手が降りて電話番号を聞かれたが、私はショックでボーッとしていたので、彼のを聞かなかったんだ。
きっと連絡してくれると思ったけど、結局甘えすぎて、連絡全然なかったんだ。
相手の善を信じたかったのに。
最悪。

Of Gay Wizards and Amnesty International

2008-07-23T20:42:00.003+09:00

A little late to the scene, but recently I had the pleasure of listening to a recording of J K Rowlings' speech at Harvard's commencement 2008.

She began with light-hearted, delightful British wit and slowly built it up to more far-reaching, important themes, flawlessly capturing her listeners' attention much like how her books do.

Here's the link: http://harvardmagazine.com/go/jkrowling.html

Hope you like it as much as I did!

What could be out of place in this picture?

2008-07-15T21:22:00.003+09:00

What's funny about this pic?
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

It's a normal garbage truck doing its rounds in Tokyo...

Climbing Mt Fuji 富士山登山旅

2008-07-15T06:50:00.027+09:00

五合目 (5th Station)

Here it all began... tour buses dropped off happy, smiling hikers--young & old, armed to the teeth with the latest gear or dressed to the nines in clothes perhaps more suitable for strutting along Omotesando in.

Trail entrance

Still deceptively flat and cooler than expected. The trail was somewhat gravelly but grainy enough to feel slight soft underfoot. Many other hikers were walking in double-file, and almost everyone coming the other way (downhill) wore an expression of such fatigue and utter bleakness that I began to question my decision to ascend this symbol of Japan.

Lots of people

Mostly volcanic rock on the way up; hard, knobby but non-slippery surfaces with plenty of handholds around. Won't be pleasant to come down on, I thought to myself. Everyone was still relatively perky at that point and looking up, we could see the little rest huts and a constant stream of hikers stretching up as far as the eye could see.

Keeping the snow cool

Caught up with the lowest vestiges of the ever-ascending clouds, borne upwards by the hot lowland drafts. As the moisture get swept up, they provide shade for us hikers and kept the snow from melting completely. In a long-sleeved, I started to feel a little chilly.

Torii as we approached our rest hut near the 8th station

At the 8th station, we supped and napped until about 10:30pm. The rest house, 東洋館(TouYouKan), was very new compared to the others before it and I was happy tp sink into the clean futon and blankets after dinner. Dinner was a set meal consisting of a hamburger steak and miso soup. Sorry L for forgetting that you don't eat red meat!

Temperature: 3, 0 with windchill

Time: 22:30. Gathered outside with all gear and two additional layers of clothing. Almost lost L and L in the crowd as the guide did a rollcall. A long string of lights meandered its way up the mountain. Air of anticipation. Temperature: 3C, 0C with windchill

Slowly as the skyline lights up

For a while, it was "step where the person in front stepped before and continue upwards" as we climbed a layer of volcanic rock. The guide said it was a good thing that we couldn't see our surroundings otherwise more people would throw in the towel. Several members of our group started vomiting and experiencing altitude sickness, but stoically pressed on. The winds got stronger gradually but my resolve was strengthened by the morning rays peeping over the horizon.

Hills rear up from amidst a sea of clouds

Fellow hikers trudge up patiently, tired but never giving up on reaching the summit in time for the sunrise. Would we make it in time, I wonder?

Awake, Ra!

The sun god opens his eyes, sending golden rays across a sea of clouds. Almost there, not sure how much more to go, but I felt revitalized and a spring returned to my limbs. It was cold and exertion was the only way to keep warm. Tried to stay close to the group perhaps because it's Japan and the need to stick with your herd was emphasized by the guide, even on the mountain.

Arise!

Wow

And let there be LIGHT

Everyone is satisfied at 4:31am

Very poor downward trails

The destination is definitely better than the journey

Clouds chase one another all the way up

Riding the warm air currents

Man, still a long way to go...

Can't wait to get down and into the onsen!

Preparing for Mt. Fuji

2008-07-11T22:21:00.004+09:00

Meeting time and place: 7:10am sharp at the 西改札口 (West Exit turnstile) in 新宿 (Shinjuku) Station

Items to bring:
---------------
- Hat: Something that can protect the head from direct sunlight or cold. One with a brim would be great.
- Outer shell: Separate jacket and pants that are waterproof and offer protection from cold. Goretex ones are great.
- Backpack: 20~30-liter capacity, waterproof backpack.
- Water bottle: At least 1-liter capacity water bottle.
- Lamp/Flashlight/Torch: Whatever you call it, just have something to light your way when we climb at night. Preferably a headlamp or something you can use hands-free. New batteries!
- Gloves: To warm our delicate, Oil-Of-Ulan-smoothened hands.
- Shoes: Comfortable, broken-into, hiking shoes. Very important--no tennis shoes or running shoes because it is hard for others to carry an injured friend down the mountain.
- Pants: Light ones. Jeans become heavy when wet.
- Sweater: It'll be cold near the summit and in the wee hours.
- Long-sleeved comfy tee: For the sun and cold; quick-dry fabric's good
- Moisture-absorbent, quick-dry socks: Hiking socks are good.
- Small towel
- Toilet paper
- Plastic bag to hold the contents of your backpack and keep them from getting wet
- Plastic sheet to lie down on if the rest hut's futon is too dirty
- Camera
- Watch
- Band-aids
- Sunscreen
- Snacks / Breakfast for Saturday
- Health insurance card
- Money

Fitness
-------
Because we are going above 10,000 ft, our bodies will be affected by the attitude, making us easily breathless and susceptible to dizziness due to a decreased ability to absorb oxygen. As much as possible, please exercise starting now before we head up. For example, climb the stairs or go running with a backpack. Sounds silly but will help a lot!

Itinerary:
----------
(July 12 Sat):
- Take a 7:30am bus from 新宿 -> arrive at 富士山河口湖5合目 (Mt Fuji Lake Kawaguchi 5th Station) at 11:30 (2304m)
- Find our own food
- Set off for the 8合目 (8th Station) at 13:30, about a 4-hr hike up to 2910m until 17:30
- Rest at a small mountain rest hut called "東洋館" (Touyoukan) until 23:30 before　setting off for the summit (3776m)
　Shared room (dudes and dudettes), no private bathroom or toilet.

(July 13 Sun)
- Arrive at summit at 4:30am to watch sunrise amidst a sea of clouds.
- Bento provided--hamburger steak & rice.
- Head down at 5:30am for the 5合目, aim to arrive there at 10am
- Set off at 11:30am by bus to 山中湖温泉 (Yamanakako Onsen) at 12:30am
- Leave for 新宿 at 15:00, get back around 18:30.

群馬舞茸そば

2008-05-26T19:51:00.006+09:00

群馬舞茸そば

This was savoured during a weekend trip to Gunma prefecture, north of Tokyo. A natural, relatively earthquake-free region.

Other titbits:
Natural groundwater: Huge Shinkansen (bullet train) tunnels were dug through the mountains of this prefecture. Abundant supplies of natural groundwater were discovered, resulting in a thriving spring water industry. Our bed-and-breakfast proudly served natural Gunma water.

Ghosts following us home from firefly cemetery: After dinner, before we set off for a trail to view fireflies, the kindly host lady warned us to be careful not to bring "dirty things" home as the trail goes through a graveyard.

Empty school buildings along the way to the convenience store added to a fun eeriness. At night, the windows look like gaping eyes and mouths, and as with any place that is bustling in the day and deserted at night, one projected lingering echoes of the daytime activities into the still of the night.

Down the ropeway

2008-05-26T19:50:00.008+09:00

Down the ropeway in 谷川岳

Mountain Shrine

2008-05-26T19:50:00.007+09:00

Mountain Shrine

Salt-grilled freshwater fish

2008-05-26T19:49:00.004+09:00

Salt-grilled freshwater fish--at a local Minakami restaurant

A temple of many deities

2008-05-20T20:51:00.001+09:00

In Tainan (台南), after satisfying our palates, we sought out 鹿耳門, a famous local temple, for some spiritual nourishment. As you can see in the pictures, that place was huge, and could be packed with pilgrims on a good day, but on the day we went it was largely serene.

Temple of Mazu

YJ and 小J went about snapping pictures while their parents and me stopped by each deity to pay our respects. Every few minutes, a large bell would toll in deep, dutiful tones which echo all around the halls. A lot of faith and effort and money had gone into its construction and I could almost sense the piety and belief of all those worshipers who came before me.

Inner courtyard

"Dear Buddha, please bless my family with good health and happiness."

"Great Mazu, goddess of the sea, please keep this world at peace."

"Emperor of Heaven, please accept my greetings and bestow your blessings upon us."

Rescuing loved ones from an angry sea

Amidst the fragrance of incense smoke and gentle murmurs of other visitors, I paid my respects to almost all of the deities who resided in 鹿耳門.

But the most interesting incident was yet to come. "Hey, hey! On the 3rd floor, quick, go!" YJ's mum beckoned to me happily. "Go pay your respects to the 月下老人。”

The 月下老人 was supposedly a kindly old man with a pet heron who visited an Emperor of the Tang Dynasty one moonlit night and correctly foretold who his future wife would be. He had since been beatified and is the deity whom millions go to in search of love.

However when I went upstairs, I had no idea what he looked like! Memories of red threads (one for each person, that links to his/her other half), herons and a full moon from childhood tales floated in my head, but I just couldn't put a face to the name...

Nope, this deity looks too fierce, this one's a lady, that one over there, can't be holding such a huge sword, nope, nope, not that one either. That's Zhong Kui, the Ghost Hunter. Those whom I wasn't quite sure, I prayed to anyway, just in case ;)

Clues started to appear; as I rounded a corner, I saw photos, dozens and dozens of photos of happy couples, beaming from every available space on the walls! Apparently, testimonies to the romance-bestowing powers of this ancient Chinese Cupid. And there he was, smiling down on me beside his graceful heron. Poor old man, I wonder where his other half is?

I made my wish, thanked him, and left, strangely feeling lighter of heart.

安平 specialties

2008-05-19T22:36:00.008+09:00

Anping Tofu "Jelly"

Smooth as silk

"Free if it isn't tasty"

Kaohsiung Day 4: Nostalgic bites

2008-05-19T22:35:00.009+09:00

Days of absorbing new yet sometimes familiar sights, sounds, tastes, and smells left me hungering for more. I was most impressed by the people I met on the streets. Hospitable, friendly, schooled in the ways of life yet humble and very approachable. Eatery staff who'd tell me not to buy too much in case the egg puffs go bad. Bubble-tea vendors who'd enquire after J's parents, cousins, uncles' little dogs, etc. It all harked back to an olden time.

This day saw us drive to 台南 (Tainan), J's mum's hometown, to visit her aunt. My education of things Taiwanese continued in the car: did I know that there are different grades of Taiwan-grown pineapples, all named after precious stones? That Chiang Kai-shek's descendants did more for the country than him? For example, all over the country, busts of this rogue-ish general were being dismantled to make way for more deserving candidates. Not forgetting that Chiang Kai-shek International Airport had been renamed Taiwan International Airport.

It was my second trip to Tainan; the history of this historic city never failed to fascinate me. A Dutch colony in the distant past, it also witnessed the landing of 鄭和(Zheng He) (curiously named Koxinga by the Dutch afterwards), the legendary Ming Dynasty enunch/naval explorer who extended the Chinese kingdom's reach throughout much of Asia (and some say, discovered North America before "Columbus sailed the ocean blue") But I will let the historians to debate this...

More importantly ;) lunch was about to begin at a traditional eatery:

Nostalgic Bites

Apparently simplicity and nostalgia was the menu of the day and murmurs of delight soon greeted each humble dish as it arrived:

Oyster omelette

Clam soup

More food

A pretty special dessert: Iced crispy yams
This was unlike anything I've ever eaten--yams fried and coated with sugar before being dipped into iced water. The cold crystallized the outer layer of sugar, making the entire slice delightfully crispy.

Kaohsiung's new subway system

2008-05-19T22:33:00.006+09:00

Kaohsiung's new subway system

Love and Bliss

2008-05-19T19:44:00.005+09:00

Seen at the Kaohsiung Town Hall:

An entry of love

Bliss

Kaohsiung Day 3: The Southern Coast

2008-05-13T22:34:00.025+09:00

高雄(Kaohsiung) is 台灣(Taiwan)'s largest southernmost city; she boasts a thriving city center, rustic suburbs, a bustling fishing port and even tropical fruit plantations. The weather is less humid than that of Singapore's (read: pretty darn warm) Pineapples, guavas, wax apples(jambu), bananas and coconuts are some of the more famous exports. To her southeast, the seaside resort of 墾丁(Kenting) awaits--a popular surfing and picnicking destination for locals and tourists alike. 東港(East Port) the fishing port even has a 鮪魚(tuna) auction not unlike that of Tokyo's 築地(Tsukiji) Fish Market. To my untrained palate, the quality of 東港's tuna sashimi is comparable to that of 築地's and of course, less expensive.

The 3rd day began with a solitary trip to the corner breakfast place because the Chen's were gone to run errands by the time I was up. Only 小J was snoozing. Did I mention that Kaohsiung's residents were all very friendly and everyone we asked for directions obliged with a smile? The breakfast lady was no exception; she actually remembered me from the day before and we chatted happily while she prepared the yummy sandwiches. I wanted to get a burger but she actually advised me not to! Because, "Your marginal utility won't be all that great by the time you get to the burger," or something to that effect! Wow. Best of all, she actually asked me to help open a tightly-shut new jar of sauce... to me that was a sign of acceptance into the neighborhood.

I mean, people in the food & beverage business are trained to be polite to customers and all, and usually one wouldn't ask a customer for help. At least I can't imagine something like this happening in Japan, where good service is taken for granted yet a well demarcation exists between store personnel and customers. In a way, being asked to unscrew a jar made my day. (Isn't it nice to be so easily satisfied? ;P)

But I digress... on this day, we are headed for the southern coast of Taiwan, a tropical region of smaller towns, beaches and natural sights. Kenting, a famous surfing resort town, awaited.

Hopped into the car, placed a potted plant in the driveway to deter illegal parking, and off we went, driving past 東港(where the best 鲔鱼 or tuna could be found) and 恆春(Eternal Spring).

For lunch, it was imperative that we stopped at a place that sold Chinese medicinal herb-flavored dishes like vermicelli or

藥膳面線

Their 龟鳞糕(Guilinggao) was also very good and the ladies were particularly happy to partake of this herbal jelly which purportedly was beneficial for one's complexion. The origins of 龟鳞糕 were always interesting to read about.

Anyone who has been around fumaroles, mudpots and steam vents in places like Yellowstone Nat'l Park probably cannot fail to be awed at the forces that laid just beneath our earth's crust. Well, Taiwan also has many hot springs and other traces of simmering underground activity, for we encountered an interesting phenomenon next:

Natural gas fire.

Someone (don't ask me how!) found natural, flammable gas emitting from the ground and took a lit match to all available fissures, ensuring a perpetual campfire over which the local residents could roast yams and sweet potatoes. Recently, that area became a designated natural monument sort of place.

"佳樂水(Jialeshui), 佳樂水," Uncle and Auntie Chen kept saying along the way. Catchy name, but what on earth was it, I wondered, as YJ and 小J snored away beside me on the backseat. We entered Kenting National Park, a vast expanse set aside for recreation and conservation.

The answer came shortly as we drew up to an arched entrance and a ticket booth. "Welcome to Jialeshui" signs adorned the simple yet fitting entrance along with pamphlets advertising a very intriguing "Flying Fish season." Flying fish, eh?! But I still had no idea until we drove through a narrow road lined by palm trees and arrived at a huge parking lot overlooking the ocean.

"Quick, the tour bus is just about to leave!" shooed Auntie Chen as we scrambled onboard a refurbished pickup truck. Pictures of weird rock formations revealed the nature of the tour and I finally realized, oh, we're going on a coastal drive!

And... the driver started speaking in Taiwanese, which always sounded very nostalgic but cryptic to me because my grandparents used to speak a variant of it. To think I would hear it in the present day on a national park tour! :D

So the geography and language lessons began...

Pig on its side, with trotters in the air

A Snail

The Frog Prince

Portrait of 觀音, the Goddess of Mercy

Oink!

Map of Taiwan

Mickey!

In a nutshell, this was:

Jialeshui

No time to lose, if we are to be back in Kaohsiung's 東港 by dinnertime, we should start driving towards the southern tip of Taiwan. Rain drops started splattering on the rocks and with 小J muttering that it always rained whenever he visited Jialeshui, we hit the road again. Too bad we didn't see any flying fish...

Southernmost point

There we were, as far south as one could go on Formosa. It reminded me of Key West in the Florida Keys and the "Southernmost point" there. The Philippines laid just a few hundred kilometers away and we could almost glimpse her coastline. Around us, occasionally, radar installations poked their heads out from amidst the foliage in the surrounding hills. The rain had long since stopped, leaving just a hint of moisture in the now cooler air.

As we made our way back up north, little towns mostly inhabited by 客家人(the Hakka ethnicity) and by the 原住民(Taiwan Aborigines if you will although I find the term slightly condescending for people who lived on the island long before the first European colonists. But perhaps long ago they had taken over the place from someone else. We territorial humans...). Like native Americans, 原住民 have a history of oppression and one joke "they" quip is that 外省人(people who moved to Taiwan from mainland China) bully 客家人(also from the mainland but were living in Taiwan long before the mass Kuomintang exodus) who, in turn, bully 原住民 and finally 原住民 "bully" the animals of Taiwan. BUT, due to recent animal conservation and poaching laws, even the animals lord it over 原住民 nowadays!

I think 原住民 rock.

Kaohsiung Day 2: Downtown

2008-05-08T14:02:00.016+09:00

It was typical summer weather--28 degrees C but thanks to a special cooling bamboo bedsheet(reminiscent of the gongfu-enhancing 冰床 in 神雕俠呂) and a standing fan, I slept in comfort. The night before, I was stupid enough to watch, together with YJ and 小J, a talkshow on supernatural activity in Taiwan, particularly that involving dead relatives coming back in dreams to express dissatisfaction at their funeral arrangements or to protest against their untimely deaths. Watching this type of eerie show right before I was to sleep alone in an unfamiliar house was not really a good idea... fortunately the night was uneventful.

When hunger pangs struck next morning, we headed to the corner breakfast place where, as usual, the staff recognized the 陳s(Chen)s on sight and chatted like old friends. I've seldom had such an inexpensive and wonderful breakfast. Sandwiches should be made this way everywhere *yum*.

蛋餅 (too busy wolfing this down and forgot about the sandwich)

Replenished, we headed to the local market.

The sun beat down like a hammer, but every vendor seemed oblivious, enthusiastically touting their wares. Apparently it was a nomadic market, in the sense that different vendors showed up each day, some on alternating days. According to the ladies, one had to spend time unearthing gems. 小J and I quickly wilted though, and after a futile attempt at cooling off by eating some 鳳梨(pineapple) and 蓮霧(wax apple/jambu) topped off with 奶茶青(Milk Tea Green--some things just don't translate smoothly but take my word for it--it's pretty refreshing), we retreated to a nearby air-conditioned (for the umpteenth time, I paid homage to the inventors of air-con) department store to browse magazines. The local department store was just like any other one--comprehensive yet soulless.

Lunch was a superb 米糕(rice cake), a succulent glutinous rice pudding packed with crunchy sliced cucumbers and flavourful pork floss.

In the true tradition of a hot summer's afternoon, activities came to a standstill for a siesta. I could almost hear the crickets chirping in the background if there were any...

In the evening, we headed out for a drive to the sea! 旗津(ChiJin)，西子灣(HsiTzuWan)，中山大學(ZhongShan University, ZhongShan is, of course, Dr. Sun Yat-sen's first name) were some of the names that 陳叔叔 rattled off, not that they made any sense to me : ) but thoughts of a cool sea breeze kept us in a buoyant mood the whole way. We weren't disappointed; after crossing an undersea tunnel, we arrive at the 濱海公園(Marina Park), a vast stretch along the coast set aside as a recreational area for the locals. Statuesque streetlamps, people strolling along the breakers, flickering lights from distant ships, waves gently lapping at the shore...

Sunset

Lights

It was there that I witnessed YJ's and 小J's passion for photography in action. They make a great team--one with an artistic to compose a picture and the other with the technical knowhow to tweak the camera exactly how she wants it to be.

Dinner was never far from our minds. Along the way back to Kaohsiung downtown, we stopped at a stretch of roadside vendors to partake of a local delicacy--

烤小卷(literally, little grilled roll) which consisted of a 6-inch-long squid grilled over a charcoal fire and brushed with a sweet sauce and crunchy sesame seeds.

Juicy, hot, tender, I finished one despite warnings of high cholesterol content.

On the way back to the mainland, next to the coast, Chiang Kai-shek's old home stood, now part of 中山大學. We could see his old Rolls-Royce parked in a lonely garage. 陳叔叔 regaled us with tales of how he used to study in that little pavilion next to that garage, how access to the house was regulated by passes and funneled through a long subterrenean tunnel guarded by armed soldiers, how he met 陳阿姨 when they were in college. Those spoken memories lent much life to the surroundings...

Next stop: The famed 85樓 or "85 storeys" buffet, a popular destination for Kaohsiungers who want to treat their friends to a good dinner with a view. Opulent compared to the local eateries and considered a typical example of a high-end restaurant in these parts.

The shrimp/prawns and the tuna sashimi were really fresh and overall the selection was lighter for the palate than that of the Vegas casino buffets. Regrettably I had to pass on the baked desserts after polishing off a succulent sirloin steak. As 陳叔叔 and 陳阿姨 were paying for dinner, I also had to make sure they get their money's worth. So I ate as much as I could (which after the grilled squid, wasn't that much). I ate for my family, for my friends and all those whom I cared about. That night on the 39th floor, I ate for my country and for all that I held dear. Hopefully it was enough : )

While waiting in the car for the ladies to walk around the hotel, I experienced a bonding, karaoke moment with 陳叔叔 : ) He seemed to be a fan of Mandarin pop and as soon as Jacky Cheung started singing an old favourite "朋友(Friend)" from the car stereo, I simply couldn't resist singing along with 陳叔叔 at the top of our voices. Silly as it sounds, that was a defining moment for me because it revealed a softer side of him that I had not seen before. 陳阿姨 had been the chattier of the two and up to that point, I was a little unsure of how to talk to 陳叔叔. But once we began slaughtering the ballad with gusto, all my apprehensions melted away. I could never imagine singing together with my dad, for example. 小J pretended not to hear and discreetly distanced himself from the car : D

That was still not the end of the day! To walk off the obscene amounts of food we consumed, we went up 壽山(Longevity Hill) for a look at Kaohsiung's magnificent skyline.

A wonderful panorama of 高雄, courtesy of 小J

On the hill, lovers abounded, blissfully oblivious to anything else beyond their immediate radius, including a boisterous karaoke stand a little further away, next to a war memorial.

Our last stop was the harbour front promenades of 西子灣 and 好望台. I don't remember much beyond pretty fountains and walkways, but I remember thinking that Kaohsiung seemed a great place to live in. Wonder how many locals make use of these recreational facilities. As 小J remarked, Taiwan, compared to Hong Kong and Singapore, has a more relaxed balance between materialistic progress and retention of traditions, lifestyles and cultures.

Once we returned home, I collapsed gratefully into bed, dreaming about squid propelling themselves gracefully in the sea and ending up spitted and grilled to a delicious brown.

(Romanization done in Taiwanese style and British spelling used)

The 3 T's for Singapore's creative class?

2008-05-08T10:56:00.005+09:00

The article below is somewhat dated but I found it interesting nevertheless when thinking about its implications on Singapore. Also happy to note which university Prof. Florida, the academic cited here, is from(Go Tartans!). I would propose a additional 'T' in Singapore's case--namely "Temperature". That would be a negative factor for the rise of the creative class on the island, I'm afraid. It's also funny to note that since this book came about, obviously some government official read it because in the years since then, Singapore has become more and more accepting of homosexuals(one of the factors covered under "Tolerance") in her usual government-prompted ways--legalized gay bars, permitted bartop dancing ( my gawd! :) ) for example.

Yet I see many signs that Singaporeans are beginning to venture out on their own. Many old friends started their own companies doing a variety of stuff. Dare I say that the air seems less stifling nowadays?

(source: The Sunday Times (Singapore) 14 July 2002, by Zuraidah Ibrahim)

Where the creative class goes, success follows, their presence of absence can make or break a city.

Technology, talent, tolerance. They define the new creative class which a city must attract and retain, says a new major US study. ZURAIDAH IBRAHIM explores the issue FOR Singapore to thrive economically, it must accept immigrant talent, artists and homosexuals. At least, that is what a major new study of American cities suggests.

Richard Florida, a professor of regional development at Carnegie Mellon University, surveyed 49 urban centres with populations of at least one million, to try to discover the secrets of economic dynamism.

His findings, contained in a book published last month, point to the importance of what he calls the 'creative class'. He defines this class as that band of people whose job is to create new ideas, new technology and/or new creative content.

They include not just people in science and engineering but also architecture and design, education, arts, music and entertainment and other cultural producers. They see themselves as separate from two other classes - the working class and the service class.

Where the creative class goes, success follows. Their presence or absence can make or break a city, Prof Florida argues. Right now, they make up about 30 per cent of the American workforce.

His book, The Rise of the Creative Class, has created a buzz in the US, where there has always been fierce competition between regions for investments and jobs.

He rejects the infrastructure approach of the many regions that are trying to clone Silicon Valley by creating R&D parks, office complexes, technology incubators and the like.

'This is essentially betting the future on an economic development model from the past,' says Prof Florida. Especially controversial is his contention that cultural and lifestyle factors have hard economic impacts.

The creative class is not just peopled by 'knowledge workers' but also by bohemians that are not normally associated with high economic productivity.

Florida rejects the long-held belief that workers move to where companies and jobs are. The creative class has other motives when choosing where to live. The 'power of place' has never been more important than for the creative class, he argues. The creative class wants to be where there is a happening scene, a pulsating music and arts environment, and a tolerant and diverse population. Thus, a city needs to focus on getting the right 'people climate'.

'This entails remaining open to diversity and actively working to cultivate it, and investing in the lifestyle amenities that people really want and use often,' he says.

Based on his focus groups and a range of astute observations, he points out that the creative class prefers an eclectic range of activities where music and the arts are equally prized alongside technical innovation.

Prof Florida offers the theory that economically successful cities that can attract and retain the creative class are those that possess the three Ts - technology, talent and tolerance.

So how do homosexuals come into the equation? Gays are a proxy determinant of how tolerant and diverse a place is. 'To some extent, homosexuality represents the last frontier of diversity in our society, and thus a place that welcomes the gay community welcomes all kinds of people,' says Prof Florida. Cities that have gays and bohemians in abundance are more likely to have creative class workers, a deep high-tech industry and consequently, strong economic growth.

Florida tethers this argument to various statistical findings. He applies a 'Gay Index', constructed by a fellow Carnegie Mellon academic, to rank regions by their concentrations of gay people. He also devises a bohemian index, which measures the number of artists, musicians and the like. After crunching the numbers, he finds that there is a strong correlation between high concentrations of gays and bohemians on the one hand, and economic performance on the other.

The gay and bohemian indices are related to the depth of cities' high-technology industry, measured by the size of their software, electronics and engineering sectors.

Put simply, where there are gays, there are geeks and vice-versa.

Based on his studies, he concludes that San Francisco is the most creative city in the US, followed by Austin, Texas, and San Diego, California. San Francisco has the highest concentration of high-tech savvy people, high-tech industries, and a high degree of innovation, as measured by patents filed per capita. Long known as the gay capital of the US, it unsurprisingly scores high on the bohemian and gay indices.

Even when the extreme case of San Francisco is removed from the analysis, Florida still finds a high correlation between high numbers of gays and high number of high-tech industries.

He says that Austin as well as Dublin, Ireland, are two cities that 'get it' in their bid to draw the creative class. He contrasts them with his own hometown, Pittsburgh.

Pittsburgh, despite being a university town with high rankings on innovation and technology, is not successful at retaining talent. His diagnosis: Pittsburgh, an industrial town that has been an innovator in many fields, is a city trapped in the success of its past.

The problem is not about economics alone but a rigid culture and attitudes that drive away talented people. And as they leave, the impetus for change also goes with them.

Reactions in the US to the book have been mixed. City leaders are beating down his door to hire Prof Florida as a consultant, but some fellow academics have described it as a faddish piece of work. Mr Edward Glaeser, a Harvard economist, points out that the theory fails to account for the sterling success of non-tech centres like Las Vegas, which ranks 47 out of the 49 cities surveyed on the creativity index.

In many ways, the ingredients that Prof Florida finds in those cities that 'get it' are the same ones that Singapore has on its own checklist of plans that are in progress, whether it is in creating top-notch universities, investing heavily in R&D and creating a 'Renaissance City' that pulsates with life and its nurturing of the arts.

However, there are other features that are less compatible with Singapore's approach. In particular, Prof Florida is not impressed by cities that emphasise only the needs of traditional nuclear families. He notes that the leaders of many cities want to cater exclusively to married couples with stable family lives in the middle and upper-income brackets. But this is not the way to build a great city, because 'a successful city needs a range of options to suit all kinds of people', most importantly young talent.

The book is also scathing about cities that have developed as copycat reproductions of other cities, with 'canned experiences', such as large retail malls and theme attractions. The creative class, the author says, desires authenticity in the settings it finds itself in. His argument resonates with the appeals by architects and artists in Singapore who have opposed the Government's headlong rush to renew the city and develop theme parks like Sentosa and Chinatown, at the expense of authentic local colour.

He acknowledges that the creative class can be a fickle lot. They change their minds and move on.

What security is there for cities like Singapore? Unfortunately, he does not have an answer.

Still, providing amenities and focusing on the arts are proposals that are easier to swallow for a conservative city than the idea of emulating San Francisco's bohemian and gay scene. In Singapore, nuclear families are the norm, making up 82 per cent of households. How much diversity can Singapore tolerate without unsettling those parents who want to raise their children in a culturally safe or even conservative environment?

Is it possible to embrace the bohemians and gays and yet remain a traditional family-affirming place? Are there cities that have made that transition from an emphasis on conservative family values towards more tolerance for the creative class?

In an interview with Sunday Review, Prof Florida says this is what virtually all top-scoring US cities have done. The transition towards more liberal values occurs as part of economic development.

He says that Singapore, like other cities that want to succeed, has no choice. Otherwise, it will be in trouble: 'Because its creative class will leave and migrate.'

* * * * *

Comparing cities: San Francisco and Singapore

Richard Florida in his new book, The Rise of the Creative Class, identifies San Francisco as the most creative city in the United States based on several measurements. How does Singapore compare?

While statistical comparisons are hard to come by, here are some observations of similarity and difference.

BOHEMIANS AND GAYS IN THE CITY

San Francisco
The city has a strong gay community, and is among the most progressive in the country in its attitudes to homosexuality. Local politicians have run for election openly as homosexuals. The mayor, Mr Willie Brown, has officiated at gay 'marriages'.

In the 1960s, the Bay Area was a centre of hippie culture. It continues to attract artists and musicians, although in the last few years, many have complained about being driven out by high rents due to the dot.com boom.

San Franciscans pride themselves on their own local music, authors and artists.

Singapore:
Homosexual sex continues to be illegal, and gays have been stopped from organising themselves officially. The Government says that it will not go out of its way to enforce the law, but that the majority of Singaporeans are not ready for homosexuality to enter mainstream culture.

Gay culture therefore remains underground.

Places for artists to gather, while growing, are not comparable to San Francisco. Artists complain that Singaporeans' materialistic culture makes it hard for young people to choose alternative paths.

HIGH-TECH INDUSTRY

San Francisco:
The city's backyard is Silicon Valley, which has been the hot-bed of technological innovation for almost half a century. Silicon Valley is the headquarters to some of the biggest tech companies in the world, including Intel, Hewlett Packard, Sun Microsystems, Apple and Oracle.

In the 1990s, the San Francisco Bay area ranked No. 2 in the number of patents filed in the country, or about 49,120 patents in a population of 6.5 million, or about 0.7 [Error! See footnote 1] patents annually per 1,000 people.

Singapore:
Creative Technology is about the only homegrown high-tech company of note. While it does not have many homegrown tech giants, Singapore is the regional headquarters to a number of tech firms. The number of patents granted last year was 7,570, or about 1.9 patents per 1,000 people.

More than 97 per cent of these were filed by non-residents, including multi-nationals such as IBM and Sony.

So, bohemians need not apply?

In another study released earlier this year, sociologist Robert Cushing of the University of Texas reported that conservative cities with durable social institutions tend to be less creative.

His study of 100 American cities concludes that 'individualistic and polarised communities' where talented people of diverse backgrounds junk tradition, join boycotts, sign petitions and participate in local reform groups, are the very cities of ideas.

Responding to a report of that study, Straits Times correspondent Andy Ho, in a commentary piece published in The Straits Times on June 7, 2002, argued instead that Singapore should not adopt a hands-off approach.

'For one thing, bohemianism simply leads to dissipation, but creativity is hard work. For another, intervening in the creative process may actually help creativity,' he asserted.

He cited author John Irving, who first made his name with the bestseller, The World According to Garp, as saying his writing is 'one-eighth talent and seven-eighths discipline'.

'His own students who succeed creatively, he observes, are not the most talented ones but, rather, those with the greatest stamina, and who are obsessed with writing well,' the columnist said. 'More must be done to create opportunity, space and time for people to learn the work skills necessary to do deeply-engaging work. Those skills may cross disciplinary lines.'

But, he maintained, 'there is no need to smash durable institutions'.

Fostering creativity calls not for a hands-off approach but, rather, principled and targeted intervention. Intervening to promote multi-disciplinary training and trans-disciplinary work can lead to new ideas, he said.

Coincidentally, in a letter to the Business Times, Dr Linda Lim, the Singapore-born Professor of Corporate Strategy and International Business at the University of Michigan Business School, made the point that foreign talent is not the mobile workforce that soapbox columnist Rod Wyatt made it out to be.

There are many reasons for the relatively shorter stay of competent expatriates in Singapore, but the lack of a night-life is not one of them. 'It is quite possible that the availability of night-life matters more to...'fly-by-nighters' who are less likely to be committed to a particular location and thus more likely to turn over in their jobs and countries for superficial reasons,' Dr Lim wrote.

She said that most expatriates she knew were motivated more by career challenge and opportunities for personal growth than the availability of night entertainment.

MELTING POT

San Francisco:
In 2000, about 28 per cent of the San Francisco Bay area population were foreign-born, an increase of 60 per cent since 1990. Asians and Hispanics account for two-thirds of the immigrants. Immigrants may come into the area as hired foreigners but soon become their own bosses, founding more than one-third of start-ups.

Singapore:
In 2000, one in four people living in Singapore were not citizens or permanent residents. The Republic is trying systematically to attract foreign talent. While the Government has cited several numbers to show how they contribute to the economy, many Singaporeans are unconvinced that the right type of talent is entering the country.

* The study covers 49 cities with over a million people ** The rankings are based on:
* The 'creative class' share of the workforce
* The number of patents filed per capita
* The presence of high-tech industry as measured by the software companies and the strength of the engineering sectors

Footnotes
1. The Sunday Times made a computational error here. The ratio should be 7.6 per 1,000, not 0.7

Kaohsiung Day 1: First glimpse

2008-05-06T00:10:00.021+09:00

My affection for 台湾 (Taiwan) remains unabated and continues to deepen ever so steadily, thanks to a recent visit to 高雄 (Kaohsiung) and a few southern counties.

Before proceeding, I'd like to express a HUGE thank-you! to YJ, 小J, and their parents for graciously hosting me! Besides giving me my own bathroom and bedroom in their house, they treated me to a vast array of local specialties and made sure I became thoroughly familar with Kaohsiung's history, prominent landmarks, culture and people.

I arrived on a clear evening onboard a Dragonair flight from 香港 (Hong Kong). The Captain's name was "Maxmax," I noted with a guffaw. Probably only a Hong Konger would have that kind of name : ) Flight time to 高雄: one hour. A middle-aged Taiwanese gentleman sat next to me, concentrating on the latest political news and scandals. He was of the gruff but nice variety, saying little beyond a few grunts yet always helping me with my food tray and cups.

A flight attendant came by with immigration forms. I still don't know what it is about most Taiwanese girls that makes me melt everytime they speak!?! Even a wonderfully romantic, "Sir, do you need an immigration form?" was enough to render me speechless and quite incapable of an intelligent reply. I stared wistfully after she continued down the aisle. Must be something to do with resonant frequency or pitch, I think...

At KHH airport, I was aghast to see YJ, 小J _and_ their parents waiting at the arrival gate. That was my first insight into their generous hospitality, and for the subsequent few days, they ensured that I was never found wanting for anything.

Dinner was first and foremost on our agenda as we left the airport. It was only about 15 minutes from downtown 高雄. 陳叔叔 (Uncle Chen) gave an introduction to the city along the way, saying how nice it had become and proudly pointing out the solar-powered streetlamps that lit up a long section of the highway. First stop:

鱔魚面(Eel noodles), and then

牛排(Beef steak), accompanied by

炒小卷(Stir-fried squid) and finally topped off with

"冰"("Ice") which was really a cold dessert containing flour balls and jellies with different sweet fillings topped off with shaved ice in a sweet syrup. Yum!

Not forgetting how to eat 冰 the right way, of course.

And all for less than USD10! I regretted ever eating lunch and dinner on the plane but I simply could not resist finishing every single scrap.

One thing I really appreciated about 陳叔叔和陳阿姨 (Uncle and Auntie Chen) was that they treated me like a favorite nephew or younger relative and it was easy to forget that I was just their kids' friend whom they had met only once before. After dinner, we waddled over to their cousin's place just down the street for a nice chat before returning to their home. Stuffed as I was, I was already looking forward to the 蛋餅(egg pancake)，三文治(sandwich) and 豆漿(soybean milk) at the corner breakfast place.

Lord Archer's signature

2008-05-05T22:32:00.003+09:00

"A Prisoner of Birth", the latest novel by Jeffrey Archer proved as interesting as its reviews extol it to be. I took advantage of a stopover in Hong Kong Airport to quickly read as much of this bestseller as possible but unfortunately I managed only up to page 159. The cast and plot were absorbing; I especially enjoyed the author's use of British wit to endear each character to the reader and to dramatize each twist of the tale.

The author himself seemed like an interesting person. He served time at Her Majesty's pleasure and he's a Lord? I'll have to read his life story sometime...

"Sir, the book you're holding has Lord Archer's signature," remarked the salesgirl suddenly. She must have noticed me standing there, reading the same book for the past hour but I detected a genuine desire to reach out to a customer.

"Oh wow, really?" I raised an eyebrow and flipped to the first few pages.

To be honest, I was kind of patronizing her because she had interrupted me just as the main character was about to learn his fate for the next 22 years, but true enough, the first page contained something that looked like a name scribbled in black marker ink.

"Yes sir, we only have five signed copies available," she explained and politely left me to my reading.

Pretty cool, I thought. But I had the familiar book-lover's dilemma of should I succumb to temptation and buy the book or should I spare this book the indignity of being read once every year and used as a dust-collector for the rest of the time?

In the end, practicality won. But I will be back to see you win your freedom back and be reunited with Beth, Danny, I promise.

When one has been in Tokyo for too long... (a Singaporean version)

2008-04-16T23:56:00.000+09:00

- one pauses before a trashcan, wondering if it is for Combustible Trash (燃えるゴミ).
- in a train that is 85% full, one wonders if most people have gone out of town.
- one gets irritated when someone's cellphone goes off in the train.
- one gets an inexplicable urge to smack the bugger who actually started to chat loudly on the phone.
- one pays for everything in cash... what's NETS?
- one is taken aback to be addressed as a peer, a little boy, a delinquent son, anything but a lofty, revered customer by store attendants.
- one considers a S$3.50 plate of chicken rice to be sooooo cheeeeeap!
- half a second before biting into a delicious sambal-fried-pomfret, one wonders how the fish would taste like if it was served raw with some soy sauce and wasabi.
- one wonders why the escalators and elevators (nah, lifts) aren't saying anything.
- one thrusts one's hands in front of every public faucet and waits, expecting water to spurt out automatically...

Random thoughts on the MRT

2008-04-15T10:00:00.000+09:00

After rushing into a MRT train just before the doors slid shut, I had a funny thought: Would I rather be a Japanese person coming to live in Singapore knowing a little English, or an American guy who knows Spanish (besides English) living in California? Anyway, having not come under the sun for a few months, I stood out like a sore thumb amongst my mostly-tanned countrymen. I swore to get more Vitamin D over the next few weeks. The weather doesn't seem so warm this time. Apparently there was a record cold day last month when temperatures plunged to an icy 21 degrees C! Brrr...

Today I re-did my national identity card--you know, the card that proves one's existence within the man-made geographical boundaries called one's country. How many countries can boast of a civil service who can deliver a new identity card complete with photo, microchip and instant update of a centralized database within 60 minutes? Note: The aforementioned 60 minutes included photo-taking, waiting in a air-conditioned lounge, having a nice chat with the motherly clerk while having my fingerprints scanned and finally waiting in air-conditioned comfort for the new card to be made! Take a bow, Singapore!

Mr Miyagi blogs in the bathroom...

2008-04-14T17:30:00.000+09:00

On a flight out of Narita, I happened to read a copy of the Sunday Times. As the plane took off, the view from my window seat was beautiful--the setting sun shone through a thin layer of clouds, casting a warm orange glow over the plane and into the cabin as the 747 climbed steadily. Leaving the Land of the Rising Sun just as the fiery orb was setting, eh? I chuckled at my cheesy little joke.

The Sunday Times had apparently gone through a makeover; it proudly announced on a side column that as a result, sales went through the roof on its first day of launch. I was reminded of Jeffrey Archer's "The Four Estate" and how the media could be used to interpret truth in many ways. No one can accuse the Sunday Times, or any newspaper for that matter, of being impartial, I guess. On the front page, there were the latest English Premier League scores (darn it, Man U looks like they're gonna win it again), Ronald Susilo's and Li Jiawei's unfortunate romance (Oey, just leave them alone okay) and sections on food, cultural events, fanatical bloggers, etc. The writing seemed better from a few years ago. I was amused to read an article about how Singaporean celebrities were supposedly ridiculed by Taiwanese talkshow hosts for having a poor command of English (Is the irony lost on them?!) ! Hahaha!

All these are inspiring me to blog more often... I need to find out how to blog by phone. Anyway, in-flight entertainment's starting soon and I gotta go catch Will Smith in I am Legend. See ya in 7 hours, Changi Airport!

A time of change

2008-04-12T10:14:00.002+09:00

The past year has been indeed a year of many changes... things that I wanted to remain in my life longer, hopefully permanently, things that have been almost cornerstones of my existence. Moved to a foreign and fascinating land, lost the girl I loved, quit the job I adored, and eventually found enjoyment in "embracing change", as L said. Moral of the story is that the good old adage, "Change is the only constant." applies. Not having close friends within a train-ride's reach presented new challenges and brought about a rush of gratitude for the creators of Skype :) But things could be much worse so I am thankful for being able to choose my next steps.

I just want to pause, get some water, munch some trail mix and lean against a nearby log for a second, take a look at the trails taken so far and think about the terrain ahead. Being positive and treating everything objectively as a learning experience helps. The murkiest, foggiest swamps with hungry leeches ready to pounce have been traversed. I am confident that better things lie ahead, or at least I gained new energy to hike upcoming trails.

She left a deep, deep wound that I hope will heal eventually; perhaps I'll even understand why but I'll stop asking and wish her the best. After all, we shared many happy times together and I learned quite a bit from this experience. It seems true that guys are often the ones who find it harder to move on. Nary a day goes by without thoughts of her, even dreams of her drifting up from some suppressed memory. Take care of yourself, dear.

In a way, leaving my first company was like parting with one's first love. The week I resigned was a pretty sad one, kind of like going on a long hike, sharing provisions and campfires with a group of strangers who eventually became close friends, and now realizing that there is a fork in the trail ahead which I must take alone. Company politics is one thing I must adapt to but I must never become one of those executives who treat people as pawns. I seriously don't understand people who makes company decisions based on negative emotions and not business reasons. Anyway, this whole exercise gave me renewed passion for technology. Bringing home some textbooks from the office a few nights ago, I started reading "Probability and Stochastic Process for Electrical Engineers" on the train and suddenly felt a return of the thirst for knowledge that was last experienced back in college. Suddenly I was back in Wean Hall, staring wide-eyed at the slides and wondering how to complete that programming assignment :P

Change change change!

Farewell, until we meet again

2008-04-02T21:56:00.005+09:00

I remember showing up nervously one fine morning in 2003 for an interview. Prior to that, I was asked to complete a multiple-page pre-interview essay :) You guys bought me breakfast but I barely had any appetite because of all the butterflies in my stomach (lunch too, was the same for that matter). A full day of interviews followed, during which the best part was, of course, the grueling lab. By the end of the day I was physically and mentally exhausted and was quite certain that the other candidates would get the job before I did. Wonders of wonders, I was invited back for a second interview, and man, was I ecstatic to receive your offer email the following week! Embedded systems, the chance to be one of the geeks--what more could a starry-eyed new college graduate ask for?

Since then, I've had the privilege and honor of meeting more of you--all of whom left indelible impressions on me. Good-hearted, salt-of-the-earth engineers / people / role models. I have been so lucky to have met you all. May I take this opportunity to thank you for all that you have taught me over the past few years? What can I say--you have been the best managers, mentors and friends anyone can hope for. To me, our group is the epitome of solid, honest, old-fashioned engineering. No matter how much we complain, we are always ready to dive into the unknown and make things that just work. When the sky falls down, we will be there to keep the machines running and to keep spirits up with our humor. I will sorely miss your Dilbert cartoons, random games, cube-wall comics and all-round quirkiness. You taught me perspective--that it is possible to have fun and work at the same time. You showed me how to treat people the right way and how to meld a chaotic bunch of differing opinions into a synergistic whole. Thank you for supporting our efforts and making sure that we have the resources we needed. Your passion for the work we do never ceases to amaze me, even when the bugs pile up and bitstreams don't meet timing. I will always cherish memories of our picnics, soccer games, hiking and camping trips.

I wish I could say goodbye in person. I wish I could visit that rib place again sometime. I wish I can be there to witness Linux booting on the Nth iteration of one of our boards. A Chinese proverb goes, "There is no never-ending banquet in all the world." Perhaps that just means we will feast again at another table.

Flower power

2008-03-30T22:37:00.003+09:00

IMG_0930
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Finally, the event I've been waiting for the whole year, the epitome of Japan-ness: Cherry Blossom viewing.

I didn't know that the representative sakura (桜) blooms for only about a week before disappearing. Nor how passionate people are about grabbing the best possible spot for a day of singing, drinking, eating under the sakura trees. The trees themselves seemed cognizant of their brief time on stage and did their utmost to explode into giant bouquets of dazzling white flowers. 満開 or full-bloom is apparently the term to describe a sakura tree in its blazing glory. To maximize the experience, people also gather at night to do 花見 (hanami, "flower viewing"). The sakura at night (yozakura, 夜桜) is apparently prettier than in the day.

Pictures: http://www.flickr.com/gp/15392340@N00/397E9h

Perhaps part of the appeal of hanami is that it is so fleeting; the sakura blooms, struts its stuff proudly for a few days and then vanishes seemingly overnight. Especially after a strong gust of wind or some rain.

別問

2008-03-24T22:42:00.002+09:00

Melancholy strikes from time to time, especially after hearing of sad things happening to good friends. Do I rant about it or should I take it as a rite of passage that everyone has to go through? Dammit I just hate to see loved ones unhappy. Perhaps it's the full moon, perhaps it's fatigue, perhaps it's a sliver of suppressed emotion bubbling to the surface, but I just want to quote:

Daylight
I must wait for the sunrise
I must think of a new life
And I musn't give in
When the dawn comes
Tonight will be a memory too
And a new day will begin

Are there no right or wrong choices in life but merely paths with different outcomes? Happiness and sadness are all relative; one can always extricate the positive from the negative. Be at peace, my friends and trust in what the future brings.

Enough nonsense, I'm going to bed.

Gasping for air

2008-03-17T09:20:00.003+09:00

Just got out of a conference call with a customer and found myself gasping for air... first time alone with a Japanese customer and was relieved to come out relatively unscathed. There were a few "Huh?!" moments (on my end) followed by hastily-crafted "To humbly confirm, is XXX what you mean?"-type questions but I think we were able to get most of our points through.

Credit must go to the onsen trip last night, soaking in various pools in this huge facility about 15 mins away in Toshimaen (豊島園) called Niwa no Yu (庭の湯). It's about 1260 yen after 9pm and has indoor as well as outdoor pools, saunas, jacuzzis, etc. Very relaxing to go to after a day of work / sports / vegetating. Last night was particularly nice because there was a moon out and admiring it while soaking in an outdoor onsen was pretty special I must say.

Am really loving onsens nowadays and will invite more and more friends to come along. An unexpected benefit of living in an earthquake-prone country. Prerequisite: Must be comfortable around naked people of your own gender. Don't even think about things like "Ewww, I'm going to sit on a rock on which many other naked butts have rested." or even dingleberries on the bathstools.

Hello world

2008-03-16T23:41:00.002+09:00

It has been a very busy few weeks and I just wanted to say I miss all of you. Recently I bought my first pair of five-toed socks and they have been very comfortable indeed. I also learned that there are socks for wearing sandals too--kind of like mittens versus gloves. Those I have yet to try.

Cherry blossoms are due on Mar 27. Tomorrow is a Monday which means another Friday is approaching. This week will be special because H is coming to visit! Life feels like a surreal Merry-go-round, always revolving round a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds and memories that leave lasting imprints on the consciousness. Every day brings something new and unexpected. For example, the other day I met a Japanese friend who can speak English, Chinese and Japanese and who travels round the world working as an event planner and a waitress. Then there's this 30-something guy who dresses up as Elvis and dances with a group of similarly-clad guys every Sunday at Yoyogi Park. I witnessed one of their performances and it was... intense.

Truly, there are many different types of people in the world.

Down the slopes we go...whee!

2008-02-20T22:45:00.002+09:00

Togari
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

The past weekend saw me & thirty-one (no kidding) friends in faraway Nagano ken (長野県, site of the 1998 Winter Olympics) to ski / board. As usual, the trip was pretty well organized. About ten people took care of chartering a bus, making the lodging reservations, arranging meals, lift tickets, equipment rental. It was also the one of the first signs that I was now part of the group, because guess what--I was given the task of preparing a "dance event" for the evening's entertainment (!)

Taking everyone's fatigue into consideration, I decided to teach them..... heehee.... the Macarena :P
Yes, very exciting, I know, but do read on...

On Thursday night, I met Aoi (葵) and Ryuuichi (龍一), armed with a Macarena CD, to prepare the dance. The Macarena was very simple, as you know, so the plan was to teach everyone that, and then divide everyone into teams to choreograph their own dance using the same music.

To make sure we were doing the Macarena right, we had to open up the curtains to see our reflections in the living room windows. I'm sure that night any neighbors who happened to be looking at their apartment had a great time.

Anyway, on Friday, I showed up at Jonathan's (a family restaurant near Takadanobaba station (高田馬場駅) with my gear and boarded the bus. I was glad to see Joe, a junior from Washington state, because he's a really funny guy. Very much a Californian dude, in a way. Franciska, a German girl and Rebecca, a Taiwanese girl were also there. All of them were spending a year at Waseda (早稲田).

Most of the other people, I had met before during volleyball. Some of the guys, despite not being able to go, actually showed up to send us off. That, is a strangely heartwarming thing to see, because somehow it reminds me of secondary school days, where friendship was expressed in those ways.

Of course, everyone arrived within two minutes of the meeting time. That punctuality is something I grew to love. The bus driver said hi, announced where we were going, Ryuuichi gave out neatly folded hand-made schedules to everyone and with a loud "Onegaishimasu!" ("お願いします！") we set off!

After a grueling 7-hour bus ride (I'd hesitate before attempting that again), I woke up for the umpteenth time to a winter wonderland. 真っ白！(truly, completely white!) is what we called it. This is Nagano, former Winter Olympic site and I could certainly see why. It was amazing how the bus driver could maneuver the huge vehicle so deftly.

The hotel was interesting--basically 3 huge tatami rooms with futons and comforters and nothing else! Meals were served in a common dining area. But none of that--we were raring to hit the slopes!

The day turned out perfect. After a few worrying minutes of cloudy skies, the sun showed up and cleared the way for a powder-filled day of wondrous snowboarding. It was the kind of conditions where one just boldly plunged down any slope, secure in the knowledge that the powdery snow would cushion any fall.

The day got better and better because we also went to an onsen next to the resort to soothe our aching muscles afterwards. It wasn't very big and one was subject to the unusual sight of naked men standing in line waiting for their turn at the shower. I was stupid enough to pick a shower station right next to the door leading to the outdoor pool (露天風呂) and everytime someone opened it (once every 10 secs?) a Siberian wind will sweep in and freeze everyone's toes off. I hastily showered and headed outside into the pool. Snow was falling and the feeling of soaking in an outdoor onsen was simply indescribable. Halfway through, one guy suddenly leapt out of the pool and dived headfirst into a nearby snowbank, egged on by everyone else! I was like, what the heck...?! And then in the next second, everyone else joined him! Except me of course, still wondering how anyone can survive the sudden 40 to 0 C change in temperature and wondering if I can run and get my camera in time.
-- to be continued --

- reku
- twins
- trunk stop
- psycho tests
- speeches

六本木 or so I thought...

2008-02-12T21:53:00.000+09:00

This was about the time when I started to get to know my fellow gaijin (外人) co-workers better. Most people've probably heard of the Westerner who came to Japan in search of greener pastures because s/he was a "loser" back home. Certainly there must be some truth in that, and apparently after the traditional wave of English teachers and high-flying executives, there're also the mafia types and entertainment (ranging from family-suitable to dodgy types) industry workers. As in many mega cities, there are whispers of people with too much wealth to flaunt and who look for exotic pleasures. Tokyo, afterall, is one of the those places where money goes a long way and then some.

The famed "meat market" bars and clubs of Roppongi (六本木) sounded a little too feisty. Someone told me a first-hand account of how, upon entering one of the rowdier establishments, he was manhandled in a very familiar way by a couple of girls. Being blonde and blue-eyed (wide, blue eyes by the time he extricated himself from their clutches) probably helped.

Anyway, on a cold winter evening, I decided to go check out Roppongi with an angmoh co-worker.

Would be interesting to see what the bar scene is like... of course I didn't imagine that I'll actually chat someone up, but hey, if we're here, some nice girls must be doing the same thing, right? Whatever, I resolved to chill and have a good time.

It was 8pm when we finally had dinner at a kaiten (回転) or rotary sushi joint in the Mori Tower (森タワー) smack in the middle of 六本木. Inexpensively decent, I supposed. It wasn't crowded at all, just a few salarymen and some couples. When Kurt and I asked for tea, the chef pointed to a small black container on the table which contained green powder. Wow! One was supposed to scoop some powder into one's cup and add hot water from a curved spout sticking out of the table. That's new. Chalk another one up for the "Cool, never saw this before" list :)

After some tuna, egg, hotate (ホタテ--a type of clam) and a greyish mixture of crab and miso that Kurt described as "brain matter", we headed out into the streets.

Way too early, as it turned out. At 9pm, all of the pubs and bars we stopped at were disappointingly empty! There were some chic, stylish-looking places which looked very promising but somehow the staff were standing around, staring forlornly at the TVs or wiping some imaginary stain off the tables. Where were the famed 六本木 revelers? Was it a sign of a faltering economy? Of course there could be (and probably were) private parties going on which were reserved for the well-to-do, but it was like walking in the woods in winter and realizing that all the denizens were hibernating in secret crevices.

We eventually went into a lounge in Tokyo Midtown, a spanking new office/restaurant/shopping building, where at least a sizable crowd had gathered. Good mix of gaijin and locals. It was fun trying to figure who the tourists were. We settled down at the bar, had a beer and chatted a bit before one of his friends, Mie, arrived. Kurt had a pretty interesting background--apparently he attended grad school in Nagoya(名古屋) and dabbled quite a bit in theoretical physics before becoming an electrical engineer. In another era, he could very well be a Russian fur trader, or an frontier pioneer in Siberia, fearlessly and skilfully carving out a niche for himself--he was a selfmade man.

"Somehow I thought you were married. No? Let me tell you this; don't marry an American girl--they will tire of you pretty soon. I've known too many friends with failed marriages."

"No way, she did _not_ do that...!! What did you do?!"

"So he's playing a dangerous game, but that guy is a survivor."

"Sawazaki san is actually a very smart man. I respect him"

"Haha we better make sure none of these leave this place, man, you know what I mean? Ahahaha!"

Back in San Jose, perhaps because most people went home after work, there was little opportunity to exchange office gossip and I was enjoying myself thoroughly. How strange, to be in a bar in 六本木 with a non-Japanese co-worker, a senior one or senpai(先輩) no less, talking about things we normally wouldn't talk about at the company.

We even bumped into two expat friends of mine, stopping for a beer before heading home. Hey, in a city of 120 million people, I finally bumped into someone I knew!

More people started filing in; it was definitely a yuppish, working professional crowd. There was the occasional guy skulking in a corner quietly drinking his beer, but mostly people stood around shoulder-to-shoulder, chatting over drinks. The bartenders weren't smiley happy types, and just went about their jobs in an relaxed, efficient manner. Perhaps that was the mood of the masses. It was a nice place to have a drink after work.

Around 10, Mie arrived. Tall, porcelain-skinned, graceful, she was very nice despite having wandered around in the cold for half an hour due to the poor directions we gave her. See, I thought we were in the Mori building when in fact the lounge was in Tokyo Midtown--a good 15 minutes' walk away. But Mie didn't show any trace of irritation at all (was it the typical Japanese reserve?) In any case, we ended up in a coffeeshop called Segafredo chatting over coffee and dessert.

I was concerned that I was being a big third wheel, but I didn't detect any such vibe (or maybe the beer had dulled my senses). We kept on talking and parted ways around midnight. Me off to home and bed while the other two off to another watering hole. The evening turned out to be somewhat different than expected but it was fun. Somehow, it felt like I saw a side of Tokyo life that I hadn't seen before.

Mi Unicornio Azul

2008-02-04T22:10:00.000+09:00

Stumbled across a song that for some reason brought me back to a chilly winter night in Redwood Shores, more specifically, Portwalk Place. Datuk really liked this song and searched all over for it.

I wonder if Datuk you're watching this video somewhere on the other side of the globe... I fondly remember Portwalk Place as the first roof over my head when I moved to the bay area--courtesy of you, Segman and Al. Seg and you bought me duck curry noodles at TK the day I flew in. Hahaha that's one of your all-time favourites eh, along with the fried radish cake. The world was a younger, more carefree place then. Oracle seemed like the largest, best-run company on the planet. 9/11 hadn't taken place. dlieu was still in Oakwood, before we illegally dumped that monster of a desk ;D

Here ya go: once again, the white unicorn (albeit a folksy remix).

It's snowing!

2008-02-03T12:21:00.001+09:00

IMG_0800
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Looked out the window this morning and was pleasantly shocked to see good layer of white stuff on the rooftops!

IMG_0801
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

This doesn't look like the typical sprinkle-a-little-and-melt-away snowfall. Ugly and uninspiring this urban landscape may be, the snow gives it a magical feel I think. Well, you're talking to someone who didn't see snow until he's 21...

Respect for LKY & SBC

2008-01-24T13:21:00.000+09:00

In my mind, Lee Kuan Yew is undoubtedly up there with all the famous statesmen in history, the wise premiers of ancient Chinese dynasties, the fabled leaders of Rome and Greece. True, all of them dealt with different times and circumstances so a fair comparison is not possible. Most of them dealt ruthlessly with their perceived rivals, using every tactic to gain power, but the thing is, once they came into their own, they did good for the majority.

Having grown up in the midst of Singapore's economic transformation from third-world to first-world country (in the economic sense, we're still a bit off in societal and cultural terms) and being fortunate enough to have lived abroad, I am now very impressed by LKY's accomplishments.

Of course he is not without fault. Definitely he crushed any opponent "like a coooccckkkrrrooach!" Some of his programs backfired-anyone remember Suzhou? But the fact that he created a corruption-free government that did good for the people is good enough for me. Just my opinion of course; I am no political scientist. Perhaps being older and a little wiser, I started to see good in most of what he architected. He couldn't have done it without other capable men around him, whose names embarrassingly escape my memory at the moment. But I salute them, Singapore's founding fathers.

Last weekend, in Lake Kawaguchi with friends, somehow we fell into a fascinating discussion of Singapore society. The oft-heard opinions of taxi-drivers, peers, the much-maligned-crony-ish Straits Times (sorry to any Straits Times journalist out there!), recent actions of the MM (can't keep up with all the new titles they keep inventing for him) were tossed up and dissected in a passionate after-dinner debate. Even in a lethargic state of food coma, we maintained a steady level of rapidfire chatter late into the night. Eventually the neighborhood dogs began to bark and howl in sync with our chorus and we slowly wrapped things up, switching to mundane topics like old SBC drama serials (oh the nostalgia!). Does anyone remember gems like "青春 1 2 3 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysmWKTpoblc)?" Just hearing the theme song alone was enough to make us cringe from head to toe...

Ahhh, to be back in primary school again...

自転車走天涯

2008-01-14T22:15:00.000+09:00

This weekend I learned that it's possible to cycle from Tokyo Station to Ikebukuro Station in an hour. In the wee hours. One hand holding on to a GPS and the other trying its utmost to keep a bicycle under control on bumpy pavements and intersections. I don't even think I have a butt anymore, because it has been pounded into oblivion by the merciless seat. As it's Tokyo, people were still on the streets after midnight, and they might have wondered who the idiot staring at his cellphone while pedaling like a madman was. In truth, I was desperately trying to make it home before my phone's battery died... and along with it the GPS application guiding me home.

It all began on Saturday morning when a bunch of us met at the JR Yurakucho (有楽町) Station for a gourmet cycling trip around the Yamanote Line (山手線). The plan was to rent bicycles from Muji (better known as 無印良品 perhaps--I didn't know they rent bikes) and use them for the trip. Unfortunately, out of the grand total of six (!) that they had available, four were already reserved. After some brainstorming, we decided to head for a public rental facility in 浅草 (Asakusa) where one can check out bicycles for 3 days for just 300yen (USD3). Sometimes it's amazing how cheap Tokyo can be.

Since we were at Asakusa anyway, we decided to start the tour by going to a famous Okonomiyaki (お好み焼き) place for lunch. Like many good restaurants, that place looked like any old traditional building, easily mistaken for someone's family home if not for the line of people outside, 20 minutes before it opened. Our timing was perfect and we joined the line, taking photos and chatting with an old couple in front of us. They were from Yokohama (横浜) and were sightseeing in Tokyo. The elderly gentleman was quite fascinated by LL's film camera with its fish-eye lens. "It's huge!"

The okonomiyaki was not too bad--I preferred the Ebisu (恵比寿) place where they cooked it for me though. But this place had something special called a Shuumaiyaki (シュウマイ焼き) where vegetables and minced meat dipped in batter were surrounded by mochi tiles (like Mahjong tiles, but longer) and grilled on the hotplate. The mochi melted and blended with the other ingredients, making for an interesting 口感 or "mouth sensation."

Next stop: Ogura ice-cream, a generous serving of red bean ice-cream sandwiched between two rice-cracker wafers. Definitely Eri-chan's highlight of the trip so far, judging by how many pictures she took of the store. We even had a "big face" shot in front of it. The ice-cream sandwich was not too bad but I was too full to fully relish it. Going back next time to try the other exotic-sounding flavours. The offering at the shop next door was Ikayaki or grilled squid, which seriously tempted me, but alas, I was too stuffed. Snapped this funny picture of the three of them sitting on a bench slurping the "Ogura ice" while an unsuspecting gent stood behind, waiting for his Ikayaki.

Before we reached Ginza (銀座), LL was already salivating about some Manneken place which sold Belgian "wafflets." Apparently those little waffles were to die for.

Nihonbashi
Kanda
Harumi, Daiba, Odaiba: The coldest part of the trip so far. Starting from Harumi (晴海), after we crossed the Sumida River (墨田川),
- Vending machine cafe au lait
Tokyo
Shinjuku
- Chicken broth hot pot
Tokyo
Ikebukuro
- Sleep

Techie Rave

2008-01-10T22:24:00.000+09:00

Allow me to pay a compliment to the techie haven that is Japan. Everyone knows about talking elevators, singing escalators, toilets that wash your butt should you wish them to, vending machines in the middle of the wilderness with no visible power source in sight, etc. But today, I discovered a technological marvel in my own kitchen! Ignorant I may be, but I have never used a microwave oven which automatically detects when my food is sufficiently heated and then ceases operation... how cool is that?!

明けましておめでとうございます！

2008-01-09T23:19:00.001+09:00

In this day and age I think it is easy to suffer from information overload. Most of us expect to get what we want, instantly (or at least in the next 5 minutes). So many things cry out for our attention; ads on TV/trains/highways/sidewalks, newspaper headlines screaming about events in distant lands, spam, etc.

The "Road to the White House" nominations' race has been rather fascinating. I enjoy reading about how each candidate spins her/his tale while being aware that the very article I'm reading is itself a concocted spin. Who can be sure which candidate is in it for the overall good? I'm rooting for Mrs. Clinton because she has, to me, seemed the most sincere, determined, human candidate so far. Plus I admire Mr. Clinton as well.

Anyway, the trains in Tokyo play updates from the polls today and I was happy to hear the New Hampshire results.

Sometimes Japan can be as Western as can be... for example, my office building was decked to the max for Christmas--very tastefully done too with none of the annoying neon commercialized feel that too many shopping malls adopt. The week before Christmas, I walked out from the elevator after work only to find the lobby packed full of people attending a Christmas concert. Students from a local Arts college came to perform: cellists, violinists from their orchestra along with a soprano who gave beautiful renditions (in perfect English) of classical songs like Silent Night. I was mesmerized. To my untrained ear, they wouldn't sound foreign in any major concert hall.

Somehow, that concert was the perfect ending to a long, long year.

Happy New Year, everyone!
今年もよろしくお願い致します！

Xmas lights

2007-12-31T13:46:00.001+09:00

IMG_0566
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Tokyo Midtown was nicely lit-up this year. It was a cold night but people were out in droves taking in the sights.

IMG_0592
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Whoever designed it did a good job choosing the medium and the colors. Who would have thought optical fiber can be used thus? (Well, not me at least) The rounded structures reminded me of jellyfish at the Monterey Bay Aquarium...

IMG_0590
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

IMG_0581
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Year-end revelry

2007-12-31T13:12:00.000+09:00

December in Japan turned out to be the most intense partying month yet. It is the time of the Bounenkai (忘年会), where everyone ranging from long-lost friends to customers gather to dine, feast, chat and push the limits of one's liver. Luckily for me, I don't / can't drink so while every night saw me at a restaurant, I emerged largely unscathed except for the occasional tobacco-smoked-infused jacket (which incidentally is the thing I hate most about Japan).

Most of the food was good, especially Shabu-shabu (しゃぶしゃぶ) at a place called Shabu-sen (しゃぶせん) in Shibuya. But what I personally liked was getting the chance to know my coworkers better at the personal level. By this time (my 4th month), we have a cordial working relationship; people in the vicinity are no longer too shy to approach me for something. However it is outside of work where most Japanese coworkers loosen up, and in particular, once the alcohol touches the lips.

They seem to understand and remember that I don't drink, so Oolong Cha (乌龙茶) is automatically ordered for me nowadays. Being a foreigner and someone who doesn't need any external stimulus to go wacky, I get away with it :) And hence I get to watch in astonishment as my fellow revelers get addled as the evening wears on. Prim and proper ladies start to flirt shamelessly, serious and studious gents loosen their ties and reveal joke-ridden sides of their personalities which I had never met before. It was hilarious in a "Lost in Translation" kind of way because slurred and rapidfire speech made it more difficult for me, already struggling to decipher the complex casual forms, to understand all that was bandied and laughed about.

But their flushed and happy faces said it all; it was party time in Japan.

Ba re- bo- ru

2007-12-16T23:02:00.000+09:00

Until recently I've long since forgotten the thrill of volleyball--the thumps of the ball on the court echoing around the arena, the shouts of teammates calling out formations and encouragement to one another, the rapid-fire smash-wham! of a spiker's attack slamming off a blocker's outstretched arms and ricocheting back into the attacker's territory, the crash of a receiving player onto the floor as he/she dives at full-stretch to retrieve the ball at all costs... the excitement, the intensity of matches back in the day have been resurrected!

The past weekend my weekly volleyball session reached its zenith--my team became champions for the first time in four attempts so I was very happy :D A fitting finale to the last session of 2007.

Volleyball is a team sport and thus calls for not only individual skill but good teamwork. Seldom are the virtues of communication, cooperation and trust more emphasized but since new teams are formed every time, gelling into a cohesive unit is not easy either.

First one needs a good blend of attackers, receivers and of course, a decent setter--the person who sets up the ball for the spike. The setter determines the flow of the game and is almost always the difference between victory and defeat. Of coursee, as it's a team game, if done well, the constant shouting of encouragement, patting of the back, high-five-ing among teammates soon create a feel-good aura which boosts the team even more.

First prize this time? A box of juicy persimmons :D

"Anyone can cook"

2007-12-02T21:38:00.000+09:00

Remember these words from the movie Ratatouille? I just watched it so it is pretty fresh in my mind. Funny how life throw little coincidences at one sometimes. You see, after volleyball today a friend and I went looking for a quick dinner before heading home.

The venue this week was someone's little brother's high school--don't ask me how they got the keys to the volleyball courts but as usual everything was well-organized. Fewer players this week, great games. I just love diving all over the court rescuing balls--that just means I'm still rusty...should really anticipate balls better. The best players move before the opposition hits the ball.

Anyway, the high school was in a residential neighborhood and my friend spotted this "Chanpon (チャンポン)" noodle restaurant a few blocks away. Chanpon is a type of soup noodles from Nagasaki (長崎), milky seafood broth with lots of veggies and err... seafood. Very nice on a cold day after sports. Chanpon is also famous for being a staple of sumo wrestlers (don't know if it's true).

The proprietor was an old man with somewhat unkempt shoulder-length hair and he barely said anything to us when we entered. If he had tattoos he would have been a perfect yakuza. Besides the menu, there were pictures of mushrooms and short descriptions of their virtues on the wall. Clearly he was passionate about mushrooms. According to some of the printed material, different types of mushrooms were good for cancer, high blood pressure, etc. (Are you cringing, C? :) )

Not that he was very communicative... even when we ordered two large orders of Chanpon he just grunted and set about cooking it. The kitchen was humble, bare, spartan, yet somehow he managed to fashion some pretty good food!. Our Chanpon was very good. The noodles: just the right kind of chewy-ness, the soup: not too oily/milky/salty (his secret: clams), the gyoza: browned in the right places. It was hard to believe that such good food can come from such a simple place and from the hands of such an unlikely-looking chef.

Truly, anyone can cook.

When I complimented him, he grunted thanks and even graced me with the shadow of a smile. He obviously knew his stuff 'cos he then regaled us with takes of how he got each ingredient right. How did he end up being what he is now? Did he sit down one day, weary from fights and power struggles in the underworld, and turned to food for salvation? Did he meet his true love while picking mushrooms to make chanpon but lost her because the lure of the yakuza was too strong? Maybe this restaurant is his way of atonement, his avenue to happiness after a life of hardship and bloodshed.

(No I didn't have any alcohol, if you're wondering)

In the words of Anton Ego, "Not everyone can be a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere."

Rancid shark meat

2007-12-01T06:33:00.000+09:00

(Copyright, The Guardian UK, 2006)

I enjoy the British sense of tragic and subtle comedy; Perhaps when it comes to food, they have little right to make snide comment about someone else's cuisine but this article is pretty interesting, especially when the author tries to use historical perspectives to explain why some foods turned out the way they are (horribly wrong?!).

Rotted shark, anyone?

Touring Europe, Feargus O'Sullivan has tasted some memorably repellent dishes. Here are his all-time 'favourites'

Friday May 26, 2006
The Guardian

Lithuania

Lithuanian cooking has all the subtlety of an injured caribou trying to hide in a cabinet full of glass figurines. It is a country with 100 ways of cooking potatoes - all of them dull - and Lithuanians loathe vegetables or spices coming between them and their carbohydrates. The national favourites are Cepelinai ("Zeppelins"), hefty airship-shaped grated and mashed potato dumplings stuffed with mince, then boiled. Despite their name, these are anything but airy. Instead, they cling glutinously to the bottom of the stomach. If these prove too ponderous, you could always try potato dumpling soup (meatless mini-zeppelins in hot milk), potato pudding (a brick of grated potato baked in the oven) or potato sausages (potatoes cooked in chitterling casings). Of course, there are also pork, mushrooms, and the occasional sprat to liven things up, but these tend to be equally self-effacing and bland. Perhaps, after centuries of domination by Russia and Poland, the Lithuanians reckon that if they keep their food uncovetably boring, their neighbours might just leave them alone.

Iceland

Do you have a taste for rancid blue cheese, but find it can be improved by the added tang of rotten fish? Then try Iceland's great speciality, Hakarl - putrefied shark. Hungry Icelanders found that the uremic acid that renders raw Greenland shark inedible could be removed by burying the meat in gravel for a few months, producing a sort of piscine Jerky with an ammoniac stench so powerful it could blow the doors off a Transit van. If your courage fails you, you could sample Iceland's milder delicacies, such as sheep's head jam, mutton smoked in its own dung, or rams' testicles. To be fair, Iceland's traditional fare reflects its punishing sub-arctic environment more than its inhabitants' warped taste buds. Sadly, though, when it comes to eating out, modern Icelanders have too often replaced stringy puffin or wind-dried cod with grindingly insipid versions of international staples: flabby frankfurters, cardboardy pizzas, admittedly wonderful sushi and sweet, bland curries that resemble nursery puddings. It is enough to make anyone long for a slice of smoked blubber.

Holland

The quintessential Dutch food experience is the FEBO snack automat. These are great walls of heated compartments, all clad in shiny chrome, brightly lit and impeccably clean. Drop a coin in the slot and the door of your chosen compartment flicks open, disgorging some lump of tasteless deep-fried mystery-meat apologetically sweating grease into its cardboard carton. Nowhere illustrates better the Dutch love of scrubbed cosiness and efficiency and their total indifference to the pleasures of the palate. This sense of culinary anticlimax is everywhere in the country. I will never forget buying what I hoped was a spicy pasty in Rotterdam, only to find that it was filled with nothing but white sauce. Likewise the day a Dutch flatmate cooked us what she swore was a delicious traditional dish, then brought in a pan of reconstituted powdered mash, kale and tinned frankfurters. Even the more appealing Dutch treats, such as double-fried chips with mayonnaise, are spoilt by lack of care: the oil for the second frying is often stale, while the mayo is a form of sickly, watery industrial run-off. Thankfully, the Dutch Indonesians have improved things a little by injecting much needed care and spice into the national diet.

Czech Republic

Lard-loving Czechs damn anything they find boring as "neslany, nemasly", which means "not salty, not fatty". Happily for them, little meeting that description finds its way on to their plates. Plonked goutily in the middle of central Europe's dumpling belt, the Czechs' take on bowel-paralysing Euro-stodge lacks the occasional delicacy of the Austrians or the tangy seasonings of the Poles. A typical Czech plateful consists of great slabs of greyish flesh slathered with fatty, tasteless gravy, mopped up with dumplings that taste like kitchen roll dipped in egg. Still, what Czech cooks lack in imagination, they compensate for with meat - lots of it. Telling a Czech you don't like meat is like expressing a dislike for oxygen. The bezmasa ("without meat") section of a typical menu does not contain vegetarian dishes, but ones that have an ever so slightly lower tonnage of meat in them that the rest of the card, as the Czechs think that eggs and vegetables must be lonely without pork fat to keep them company. That people with standards so low for anything savoury can produce such exquisite cakes and beer is one of Europe's great mysteries.

Britain

We still have little to be smug about. Although we pride ourselves on our little gastro-boom, the British still eat more rubbish than any other European country. Eastern European staples may be heavy, but at least they are made of food. Our diet, by contrast, is plumped up with over-processed industrial gunk, awash with flavour enhancers, stealthy trans-fats and hidden glucose syrup. Some enjoy a shriek of horror at Turkey Twizzlers, but middle-class bottled pasta sauces, pre-packed Thai curries and supposedly luxurious ice-creams are scarcely much purer. Such a junk-filled diet hardly surprises when good eating is thought so dispensable that a 20-minute lunch break is the national average. It is not as if traditional British food is worth the nostalgia we squander on it either. Cod is officially the world's blandest fish; Yorkshire Pudding tastes of nothing whatsoever; and a country that considers a Bath bun a sensuous treat must be dead from the waist down. Thank goodness for immigration.

How to run a football club

2007-11-29T20:26:00.000+09:00

(Copyright: www.liverpoolfc.tv forum 2007)

Rafa choses the team to play each match and asks Rick if he can have a new player.

Rick writes the name down, mumbles a bit and puts the phone down. He then spends the rest of the afternoon in Tie Rack with his phone switched off.

Foster's gone on holiday and thinks Rick is in charge, but as we know Rick's in Tie Rack and Rafa's wondering what's going on.

So Rafa decides to sort out transfer deals himself and lines a few up. At the back of his mind he wishes Foster was around because he was quite helpful when he went to South America and came back with Lucas.

Meanwhile, Rick has is torn between two ties and can't decide which one's best.

Rafa's now growing impatient because he wants to tie up deals and both Foster and Rick have gone awol. This is when he makes his big mistake: he rings Tom because George was out playing golf.

Rick still can't choose a tie and it's got worse. The shop's closing for the night, he refused to leave and they've threatened to call the fuzz.

Tom's in the middle of buying some players for whatever strange sport they have across the pond when Rafa rings. He's having a bad day because he's just realised the new stadium for that franchise in Limeyland is going to cost a fortune and he's trying to buy another rounders player. So he loses his rag with Rafa and tells him to focus on coaching the players he's got and that they'll sort it out in December.

Rick's now explaining to the police why he won't leave Tie Rack. And he's really put their backs up by asking them to choose between a snazzy green and purple paisley number and a really cool Snoopy one.

Rafa tries to ring Rick and Foster, but they're both still missing. George is still playing golf. Rafa repeats Toms words repeatedly at the press conference.

Rick is now sat in the cells with neither tie. He wastes his one phone call ringing Tie Rack to ask them to put both ties to one side so he can come in and buy them both, but as they've now closed he has to leave a message on the answerphone.

Things are now going badly wrong. Hearing of the press conference, Tom rings Rick, Foster and George and gets no reply. Furious, he sends .tv a ranting email to issue a press statement.

The duty sergeant comes into Rick's cell to confiscate his tie. Rick goes bananas and gets sedated by blunt instrument.

Finally, George comes back from golf to find messages from Tom and Rafa on his answerphone. He rings Tom, who's now gone off to a sports bar to rant about Rafa, Rick, Foster and George.

Rick's still asleep, dreaming about dancing giraffes wearing really cool ties.

Finally, George catches up with Foster, who's been surfing in Hawaii. He tells him to get on the next plane back to Liverpool and find Rick.

Rick's now woken up and doesn't know where he is. The walls are soft and he's wearing a tight jacket that seems to have the arms tied together. Behind his back.

Finally, George and Tom have a chat. They try to solve the problem by issuing another press release, although Tom is still adamant that he wants Rafa's head. The press release merely makes the problems worse and pressure mounts.

The one bit of good news concerns Rick. He's finally been found by the club and after a lot of arguing, he's taken back to his office. Someone is sent to Tie Rack to buy both ties and he invites Rafa round to his office in the evening to see which one he should wear for the Porto game. He cracks a joke about the Porto tie being vital to the club's future and Rafa storms out, vowing to win everything just to show them all.

By now, George is trying to figure out how to get rid of Tom; Tom wants rid of Rafa; Rafa wishes he'd never seen Tom; Foster is trying to figure out how to get of Rick; Rafa's decided Foster's a better bet than Rick; George is just waiting till he gets to Liverpool so he can thrash Foster for going awol; and Foster, he's still looking for that wave.

And Rick? Well, he's got two new ties, so he's happy.

An organized twist to a familiar game

2007-11-25T23:33:00.000+09:00

Today amidst studying and hanging out with friends, I attended a volleyball club event of sorts made up of both students and working professionals. Actually everyone plays for fun but the way we did it was so organized that I couldn't help comparing it to "American" and even "Singaporean" ways of organized sports activities.

The Japanese really take pains to emphasize group identity and fervor/passion in whatever they do. Why do I say that? Well at first I thought I was just going to join a pickup game like what happens in the States--whoever shows up will just join a random team and start playing. Nope. Before I arrived, my name was already registered in some appointed group leader's roster and they had take the trouble of dividing everyone into teams. We assembled in the court, two guys led a collective warm-up. For a fleeting second I thought I was back in my secondary school days in the volleyball club. Only that somehow I understood little of what the team captain was saying and resorted to "Monkey see monkey do."

Warmup over, time for the team talk. Everyone knew it was a recreational league, but still we huddled in a circle and discussed team tactics--who should play in which position, who prefers what type of movements, etc. Needless to say, I was duly impressed. One of the highlights was the "team pose/cheer". We concocted a specific dance routine; actually two--one for when a point was gained and the other for when a point was conceded! No matter what happens though, after each point, we huddle in a circle and the last person who touched the ball or should have touched the ball runs around giving everyone a high-five. Followed by the "win" or "loss" dance routine! Hahaha it was hilarious.

(Point gained)
*high-five*'s all round
"Yosh yosh yosh!" (fists pumping)

(Point lost)
*high-five*'s all round
"Bee one bee!" <- (at least that's what I heard) (clap your hand and clap the hand of the person on your left)

(Team-mate serving)
"XX-san!" (*clap*clap*)
"Goodo seervee!" (*clap*clap*)

Needless to say, I was grinning from ear to ear throughout. The games themselves were great fun. Everyone had fun and there was a box of chocolates for the winners. 4 teams rotated in-between matches and the fifth acted as the referee and linesmen. Superbly organized and efficient.

This Shanghai guy who was there told me how amazed he was when he first went. My Japanese friends all laughed and said this is pretty common. It is one thing knowing how important the group identity is here and seeing it in person.

Will go back next week.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2007-11-23T01:42:00.000+09:00

Even though I've left the States, memories of happy Thanksgivings through the years linger on and I just want to wish all friends and family a very Happy Turkey Day!
Will get to eat turkey at a friend's place tonight and am looking forward to it!

Jaunt to an olden capital

2007-11-22T20:59:00.000+09:00

Probably nobody needs an introduction to Kyoto (京都), ancient capital of Japan and haven for cultural tourism. Memoirs of a Geisha, the Gion river, moonlit streets, temples are familiar images on Kyoto postcards. Backpackers abound and people from all over find ways to enjoy its food, onsen (hot springs) and overall relaxed atmosphere (compared to Tokyo anyway)

A half-man, half-machine friend of mine had a conference in nearby Nagoya (名古屋) and we decided to spend a few days in Kyoto catching up. So I took an evening bullet train or Shinkansen (新幹線) from Tokyo to Kyoto--about 2 hours but made rather uncomfortable by the fact that I had to stand almost the whole way, shifting occasionally to let people go to the bathroom.

First night we had a very good dinner of Kyoto cuisine, sort of a prix fixe menu in which a tongue-numbing fish was served with chazuke (お茶ずけ) or rice-in-tea. The unappreciative, nonchalant way we wolfed down the food probably didn't please the chef, but it was a pretty good meal.

A very good way to explore Kyoto is on bicycles so the following day we rented two from the hostel and set off for the temples. SB cycled the same way he drove--without regard for life and limb as he careened furiously along the roads. "We HAVE to get there before the crowds!" he insisted. Haha it was good to forget about everything else and simply relax with a good friend.

It's Fall
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

It was a crisp autumn day, perfect blue skies and fresh air. In the Imperial gardens, trees herald the onset of Fall with a chorus of flaming colors, their last hurrah for this year before sleeping for the winter. It felt good to leave the bustle of Tokyo behind and just be a tourist. Took lots of pictures, especially some of Kinkakji (金閣寺), one of which now serves as my cellphone's wallpaper.

Kinkakuji (金閣寺)
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

1999 was the last time I saw Kyoto, and it was nice to renew acquaintances. Somehow I remember little of my previous trip but at the same time, I could hear echoes of myself trudging up the slope towards Kiyomizu Dera (清水寺). The restaurant with a turtle symbol whose picture I took for ltt back then seemed to be gone. A victim of the cutthroat food & beverage business, I guess.

Didn't have a chance to walk along the Gion river this time. Next time. Maybe on my next trip I'll even catch a glimpse of a Maiko-san (舞子さん) or trainee geisha.

How to fend off attention gently

2007-11-20T19:04:00.000+09:00

LY aka The Fink uttered many pearls of wisdom over the years and one which she kindly imparted me today was for gently turning a girl down without making her feel bad. So if a girl keeps dropping hints like, "Oooh, that's a nice restaurant... if only you would take me there..." and you don't really feel like doing so, LY says:
well ... u cld tell her that u've tried that restaurant with ur bf .. and u liked it too, so if she wants, can join u and ur bf
:)
Apparently few things will put a girl more off than saying one has a boyfriend...
True or false? Let me know what you think!

Those electrons are flowing again

2007-11-19T19:57:00.001+09:00

Ah... the electrifying rush of bits flowing in and out of the computer, of being connected to the outside world via 100Mbps optical fiber, of regaining my primary source of communication with friends and loved ones--the Internet :)

Kept thinking what the equivalent would be in times past. Maybe instead of a missing user account, messenger pigeons would be gone from their roost or perhaps the village postman would have fallen ill. My village would be cut off from the outside world...

In any case, I'm dying to talk about so many things, things that I suddenly think of on the train, words that pop up enroute to the yakitori store. Some reminders to myself here on what to write... so much to share, so little time:

- Roppongi sushi store
- Tokyo fashion
- Weather
- Takao san hiking
- Volleyball
- Work

Tokyo Motor Show 2007

2007-11-10T23:15:00.000+09:00

One of the things Japan is known for is undoubtedly her automotive industry. I'm not too interested in cars, except for my favourite WRX of course :) but friends and coworkers kept asking me to go check out the once-in-2-years Tokyo Motor Show so finally on a rainy Saturday, a few of us went down to Makuhari (幕張) near Chiba (千葉).

Pictures speak louder than words. I liked Toyota's personal transporter (Segway clone?), the latest WRX, and the motorcycles.

Strange encounters of the restaurant kind

2007-11-02T19:15:00.000+09:00

I promised to relate how some friends and I met Angel Wong, an actress / travel show host / singer ("Search for me in Wikipedia," she assured us) and her manager so here it is; a tale set in a restaurant under some train tracks in Yurakucho (有楽町), accompnied by some happy Japanese salarymen.

Tokyo's need for space is such as restaurants spring up everywhere, in this case, the JR Yurakucho station grew an extension and it became a restaurant. ZZ was on his monthly trip to Tokyo from Nagoya so we arranged to meet for dinner. Neither of us knew the area well so we picked a random table at that random restaurant ("Wah, never eaten under the train tracks before!") and started ordering. IC was to join us later.

Before long, two middle-aged salarymen in suits came along and sat at the next table. Since they were still dry, they still looked rather serious and tired. ZZ and I happily caught up and talked about the good old days.

It was probably around the 4th course when two girls came along and sat one table over. So it was them, the salarymen, and us. Both looked like students and one spoke in an Australian/American accent. One was more dressed up and the other bore the expression of a person who knows that the other person whom she hangs out with gets all the attention.

The two girls started ordering, and that was when the salarymen started paying attention, because it became apparent that (1) they didn't speak Japanese and (2) they were tourists. Naturally ZZ told me, "hey give them a hand lah" so I went over and helped them order some sashimi and sake ("Tell the waitress we want sake that goes with the sashimi ok?" the more dressed-up girl said.).

At this point the alcohol had boosted their courage so the salarymen loosened up and started chatting to everyone, including us. They were amused by the fact that we were all foreigners and wanted ZZ, IC and me to translate between them and the other two girls.

I'm like, great... I get to be an interpreter for two middle-aged salarymen hitting on two tourists. The commotion started when they found out that the dressed-up girl was a TV personality in Malaysia and had hosted a travel program that introduced the Tohoku (東北) region of Japan. You have no idea how many times I was asked to re-confirm the fact that "Oi, oi, is she really a celebrity?!" But it was all in good fun really. The other girl turned out to be her manager.

So yeah, go ahead and look "Angel Wong" (very Hong Kong-ish name eh?) on Google. Must be a tough life, being a celebrity...

Been out of it for a bit...

2007-11-01T08:43:00.000+09:00

My apologies, dear readers for not making updates since Oct 17. The reason being that I moved to a new apartment and have been struck down by a nasty virus. Despite being in one of the more technologically-advanced countries, Internet access comes 3 weeks after one applies for it... albeit it will be optical fiber-based which gives me a cool 100MBit/sec duplex link.

I'm risking my livelihood by secretly blogging at work, so please understand and I promise I will post updates once Internet arrives on Nov 8. As much as I browse the web on my Mitsubishi D904i cellphone nowadays, it is still rather cumbersome to blog on a tiny screen ;)

Preview:
- Rave about being able to see Mt Fuji from my apartment on a clear day!
- Rant about buying furniture
- Walking around Shimokitazawa--nice area full of little shops and cafes
- Hiking Takao-san
- Getting a bank account in Japan

小学生造句

2007-11-01T08:39:00.000+09:00

I wish I had been so creative...

1.题目: 原来
小朋友写: 原来他是我爸爸。
老师评语: 妈妈关切一下

14.题目: 好 ... 又好..
小朋友写: 妈妈的腿 ,好细又好粗...
老师评语: 那到底是细还是粗？

15.题目: 陆陆续续
小朋友写 : 下班了，爸爸陆陆续续的回来。
老师评语: 你到底有几个爸爸呀?

22.题目: 谢谢....因为 ......
小朋友写: 我要谢谢妈妈,因为她每天都帮我写作业......
老师评语: 原来你的作业是妈妈写的!!!!!!!

23.题目: 难过
小朋友写: 我家门前有条水沟很难过。
老师评语: 老师更难过......

26.题目 : 天才
小朋友写: 我３天才洗一次澡。
老师评语: 要每天洗才干净~~

27.題目 : 一… 便…
小朋友写: 哥哥一吃完饭，就大便。
老师评语: 造句不要乱造...

31.題目: 又.....又.....
小朋友寫: 我的妈妈又矮又高又瘦又肥。
老师评语: 你妈妈......是怪物吗?

34.好吃
小朋友：好吃个屁
老师：………

35.况且
小朋友：一辆火车经过，况且况且况且况且．．．．．
老师：……………

Visible and invisible languages

2007-10-17T23:53:00.000+09:00

As I fumble through the intricacies of this foreign tongue, I marvel at how human beings express themselves. Verbal communication, written words, gestures, how body language is so often subconsciously interpreted and yet consciously overlooked. Don't believe it's just Japanese culture that has many hidden convoluted meanings. One just has to look out for signs in every culture.

Often I hear rapid-fire words coming out from someone talking to me, and while I can't make out every single word or process every character fast enough, somehow through a combination of luck / observation / guess-by-context, I manage to utter a reasonable reply.
At the real-estate agent, I was lucky to escape without causing them to keel over from trying their best not to laugh at the silly foreigner and his kindergarten vocabulary. But hey, somehow I got my points across! 2nd floor and above, at least one tatami room, not facing east-west, etc.

Other times, I instinctively say something safe / stupid and laugh at myself silently afterwards for messing up :)
E.g. few weeks ago, at a restaurant:
Cashier: Thank you O magnificent guest for your distinguished patronage.
Me: Err... no I don't want it, thanks.
Cashier: (smiles embarrassingly because she thought she'd embarrassed me)

At the neighbourhood supermarket:
Cashier: (After keying in all the items) Do you have a points card, sir?
Me: Sorry?
Cashier: Do you have a points card?
Me: No I don't need chopsticks, thanks.
Cashier: (smiles patronizingly and wishes I just pay up and go)

After a while, the words and gestures just fall naturally into place. Now, haha, no problemo dudes. Bring 'em on. Let me unleash my 日本語! ;)

I really believe understanding one another's culture and removing one's social barriers is key to making the world a friendlier place.

Autumn: Time to nourish the palate

2007-10-14T21:24:00.001+09:00

串焼き
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

(Shinjuku 新宿) One of many similar-looking shops vying for one's attention, Kushiden (串でん) actually has 2 stores within 50 meters of each other in bustling Shinjuku. The interior was smoky and filled with young people chatting and nibbling at grilled meat on sticks. Satay, kebab, whatever it's called, succulent morsels of meat and veggies skewered on sticks and slowly cooked over a charcoal fire are a welcome meal at any time.

Okonomiyaki (お好み焼き)
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

(Yoyogi 代々木) One of those places tucked away in a quiet neighbourhood. Owner drives a gigantic Cadillac and fishes for a living. Okonomiyaki literally means "Grill what you like" and is apparently a poor man's food--greasy and filling. Skilfully done by our friendly waitress, the appetizers and okonomiyaki were tasty and comforting. Accentuated by great conversation, my first cold beer (1/3 glass anyway) in a few years, new friends--what more can one ask for?

Inner Mongolian mutton ribs
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

(Shibuya 渋谷) A bit closer to China this time; a Mongolian hotpot chain--ideal for a chilly autumn evening.

Pumpkin cream puff
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

(Shibuya 渋谷) Autumn special at a cream puff chain. Very popular among the ladies apparently because I was the only guy in line. But skhoo, if you are looking, the pumpkin flavour won't stick around forever ;)

Beard Papa Pumpkin cream puff
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Ate one for old times' sake. Cheers.

Clean up the world a little bit, starting with Tokyo

2007-10-14T17:04:00.000+09:00

Went to Odaiba (お台場) for a park clean-up activity organized by a friend's company. Pretty cool, not just because I got to do something for the environment, but also because I got to ride the Yurikamome (ゆりかもめ) subway line for the first time. It's an above-ground subway that circles a large portion of Tokyo Bay, providing riders with very good waterfront views.

We went to the designated park in the morning, got equipped (long cafeteria tongs, gloves and trashbags--divided into burnable (燃える), non-burnable (燃えない) and recyclable (資源) garbage of course, and split up into teams. Each team combed a section of the park for an hour, fighting mosquitoes and picking up anything that looked out of place. The people in my team were a mix of Americans, Japanese and Chinese and had all spent time in the US, so we had a pretty fun time chatting while we worked. Not really back-breaking work, 'cos it was only for a hour+.

Conclusion: 90% of burnable trash consisted of cigarette butts *surprise*surprise*. The rest: cans, plastic forks, chopsticks. Didn't find any used condoms though, fortunately. I remember a similar event in Pittsburgh in which a lot of interesting items were found in the parks. The most interesting item found during this event was a baseball bat. However there wasn't much trash to begin with. Nevertheless if there are more public trashcans in general, maybe there will be less litter. Anyway I heard that many trashcans were removed from Tokyo streets after the sarin gas attacks a few years ago.

Official report: click here

The company was good, lunch was provided, got a free tee-shirt and I got to contribute a little something to society; What more can one ask for on a lazy Saturday morning?

Please, I just need a place to stay

2007-10-08T18:53:00.000+09:00

The common ways of apartment hunting in Tokyo are rather tedious and not very welcoming to foreigners, in my opinion. Not that I mean to gripe about everything I'm not used to, but the process I'm going through is just inefficient. Of course somehow it has worked for gazillions of people.

In general, one comes up with a location depending on, say, commute time from the office, or a particular district. Then a realtor is contacted--usually there are several conveniently located around each train station. Don't bother searching online for the moment as good apartments come and go so fast that realtors don't have time to enter them into a computer. Plus under the impression that only affluent foreigners go online to look for apartments, the places one finds via a realtor's website tend to be more expensive.

My criteria:
- at least 10 minutes' walk from the nearest train station (for exercise--will probably regret it once the rains and the scorching summer heat sets in)
- at least 2nd floor and above. Just don't relish the thought of every Tomi, Dickeshi and Hariko walking past my front door.
- in-room washer facilities. Most apartments are unfurnished...
- room for at least 1 guest. For all you guys who are coming to visit :)

Fees:
- Monthly:
- rent(賃料): expect to cough up ~USD1000 for a decent place 30 minutes from downtown Tokyo.
- maintenance fee(管理費) which ranges from 0-10% depending on the landlord's whims.
- One-time (typically):
- deposit/security money(敷金) equal to 1-2 mths' rent.
Supposedly refundable at the end of one's lease if the apartment remains in good condition, but one should not expect to see this sum again.
- key money(礼金) to the tune of 1-2 mths' rent again.
This is a total scam concocted by some greedy arse on the pretext of showing one's appreciation to the landlord for the to-die-for privilege of renting the premises.

At the realtor's office, the tedious task of sifting through sheets of apartment datasheets to find a suitable one begins. The agents can only help narrow down to a particular folder. If one is lucky, a similar recent transaction triggers some memory and the agent manages a "Have I got the perfect place for you!"

Generally they're nice, but do be careful of being steered towards something that they deliberately planned for you, based on whatever decision process they might have done through. (Or am I too cynical?)

After shortlisting a few dozen possiblities, they'll call the landlords to verify if the apartments (or 物件) are available. Expect some to be snatched up already. If one is a foreigner, don't be surprised if many landlords immediately reject one outright. "Sorry, I don't want to deal with foreigners." That's right, no matter how many years one has lived in Japan, or if one is the Prince of Kalimantan. People aren't xenophobic, just scared.

Haha by now you can tell that I am not too thrilled nevertheless...

Finally after some time, an agent escorts one to the apartment of interest to have a look. That's usually the deciding factor, but it's not over yet! That's when the _real_ application starts. Fill out a few forms, request proof of employment and of course, the mysterious guarantor (保証人) which every renter requires in case the tenant skips town and the landlord is bereft of that month's rent and damages. Problem is, only Japanese citizens can be guarantors so what is a foreigner to do? Answer: Find a good Japanese friend or hire a guarantor company for the princely sum of 1 mth's rent.

After going to all that trouble, there's still the possibility that the landlord might nit-pick at something and reject one's application.

Dang.... renting an apartment in Japan is neither the cheapest nor simplest of tasks.

I'm seriously considering starting a rental business without all these requirements.

Wish me luck! Hopefully I can get a suitable apartment this week.

Visiting home

2007-10-07T22:59:00.000+09:00

Kind of an oxy-moron, isn't it--"Visiting home". In some ways, even though I call Singapore "home", the thought of going back permanently has not yet occurred to me. Still it's great to be back briefly. For once, I can be part of the "Citizens" queue/line at the airport and be the intended recipient of the big "Welcome home" banner.

Dear Mama and Papa, as always, waited patiently for me just outside the baggage claim area, even though it was 12:30am on a working Monday.

Had an episode at Narita airport with a tourist on his way to Singapore while we were waiting to board the same flight. Basically he was late by a day for his planned arrival to Singapore and wanted to contact his hotel to make sure they didn't cancel his reservation. So I loaned him my laptop and called the hotel via Skype on his behalf since he couldn't speak English that well. Unfortunately they canceled his reservation so he had to pay extra for a new room, so he wasn't very happy and asked me to help him call his travel agent in the US when we reach Singapore. Naturally I agreed and arranged with him to meet at the baggage claim in Changi. But when I retrieved my luggage, he was nowhere to be found... and feeling bad that my parents were missing out on sleep, I decided that Mr. Cruz should have no trouble in tourist-friendly Singapore and left without attempting to find him. Sorry...

Anyway, once home, Mama plied me with mooncake and Vitagen before shooing me off to bed. Ah... the familiar ceiling, the scent of the furniture, the light from the streetlamps tentatively peeking into the room... during JC (high school) days, many times have I stayed awake briefly after turning off the lights, enjoying the solitude and admiring the night sky. There's this jigsaw puzzle I assembled long ago which has the night sky and all its constellations in glow-in-the-dark paint. Always wanted to put it up on the ceiling but Pa would've gone ballistic if I had done so :) It's probably still lying somewhere in the house, waiting for a chance to show another fascinated child its starry magic.

I enjoyed every such night during the week, and filled my days with an endless array of local food. What fun it was to go to a hawker center and just walk past the stalls, like a lion calmly surveying its territory, I strolled languidly up to a signboard that caught my fancy, and ordered whatever they had to offer. Can never get tired of the variety; every plate a surprise, every bowl of _whatever_ a welcome delicacy that I renewed acquaintances with. Yum yum!

My stomach wasn't so happy of course. After weeks of Japanese food, something about the famous Changi Village nasi lemak put it off balance and I had to endure a constant tummyache while continuing to stuff myself silly throughout the week. And I barely scratched the surface! Chicken rice (thrice), ban jian kuay, nasi lemak (twice), sugar cane juice (frothing and fresh--twice), soya bean (yes, soyA bean) milk, yong tau foo, chui kuay, ban mian, Eurasian cai fan, nasi padang, satay and last but not least, Mum's cooking. Four different types of chilli I believe: assam chilli, chicken rice chilli, sambal chilli, freshly-cut chilli, chui kuay chilli, yong tau foo chilli.

Home food; funny I never miss it while away but stepping into a hawker center upon return just triggers a irresistible instinct to sample every little thing. Considering that the weather typically destroys one appetite the first 3 days, that is no mean achievement :)

Just remember the following: The typical Singaporean talks about the next meal while he or she is the middle of the current one.

Ohagi (おはぎ)

2007-09-29T22:24:00.001+09:00

Ohagi (おはぎ)
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

What I ate for 中秋節--"moonviewing" (月見) mochi consisting either of redbean paste covered with ground peanuts or ground peanuts covered with redbean paste.
Hmm.... miss the traditional mooncakes.
McDonalds' even had a moon burger of some sort but I didn't try it. The advertisement was pretty funny though--two rabbits fighting on the moon.

Belly Dancing

2007-09-29T19:37:00.001+09:00

Belly Dancing
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Went to see a belly dancing performance at the American Club in Tokyo recently. One of my friends knew someone who knew a belly dancer and we all got invited to their inaugural performance in Japan.

Apparenty, the audience consisted mostly of Japanese belly dancers--people who take classes for fun just like paupau), and boy were they flamboyantly-dressed. Even my Japanese friends commented that the crowd was "different". Should have taken some pictures of the audience...

But when it came to rushing to the buffet table, everyone became obaa-sans. You'd be surprised how fast those ladies can move on high-heels yet maintain their poise. I thought the buffet was free-flow so I stupidly waited for the crowd to disperse before I went. Man, by then the food was almost gone, and little remained of the most popular dishes.

But, back to belly dancing; paupau gave me some ideas of how complicated it was and how many different muscles one had to use. To my layman's eyes, it was amazing how the dancers could move their bodies in those ways. It must be tiring, having to quiver and wiggle the right portions of one's body. For maximum effect, a dancer told me, one has to sit at most a few steps away from the performers. Too bad in our case they were all far away on the ballroom stage.

The star of the show, a professional dancer from Cairo did something amazing (sadly not captured on film)--somehow her stomach muscles were so well-controlled that she could place a walking cane horizontally across her hips and grip it in place with her belly!

The professional
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Amazing, but a little long. Most of us were quite sleepy when it ended.

Halle Berry just joined...

2007-09-25T19:44:00.000+09:00

so said a co-worker today as I bumped into him in the hallway. Hahaha, can't resist using this headline to draw people in. Today two new college grads came in and one of them, according to him, looked like Halle Berry. I would have said Janet Jackson, but anyway, it's interesting to see more and more non-Japanese work in Tokyo.

Even on the streets around where I live (a fairly-residential area), I see gaijin almost every day.

Happy Mid-Autumn

2007-09-23T12:58:00.000+09:00

熊对能说：穷成这样啦，四个熊掌全卖了；
兵对丘说：兄弟，踩上地雷了，两腿咋都没了；
王对皇说：当皇上有什么处，看，头发都白了；
口对回说：亲爱的，都怀孕这么久了，也不说一声；
果对裸说：哥们儿，穿上衣服还不如不穿！
比对北说：夫妻何必闹离婚呢；
巾对币说：戴上博士帽就身价百倍了；
臣对巨说：一样的面积，但三室两厅；
我对你说：中秋节要到了,祝万事如意！
(谢谢海栋)

Randy Pausch's last lecture

2007-09-22T11:16:00.000+09:00

Carnegie Mellon has a lecture series known as "The Last Lecture" where each speaker addresses the audience as if it was his/her final lecture ever. Semi-retired surgeon poon forwarded an article about Randy Pausch, a CMU CS prof who, after being diagnosed with a terminal disease, is living his final days to the fullest. The following videos capture indeed, his "Last Lecture".

Prof Pausch was instrumental in setting up, among other things, Building Virtual Worlds--a highly-acclaimed project class where students of vastly-different disciplines create 3D virtual worlds. We used to attend the final day of that class when students showed off their creations. Costumes, stage performances, gags accompanied technologically-impressive interactive computer animations. One of the things I loved about dear old CMU.

Some (near) quotes I like from his lecture:
"Brick walls are there for people who are really dedicated to show their commitment."
"If you expect a morose and depressing lecture, I'm sorry to disappoint you."
"It's sad that people perceive you as arrogant, because that limits your potential for success in future."
"Give someone time and he/she will surely surprise you in a good way."
"I don't know, but one of my brightest and most promising young faculty is standing in front of me bustling with excitement, and I would like to hear more."

Videos:
Part 1 of 10
Part 2 of 10
Part 3 of 10
Part 4 of 10
Part 5 of 10
Part 6 of 10
Part 7 of 10
Part 8 of 10
Part 9 of 10
Part 10 of 10

Dressing up is pretty fun

2007-09-17T22:56:00.000+09:00

Ever since I arrived in Tokyo, the urge to dress up, to take more notice of the external appearance has been steadily creeping up on me. Perhaps it is an excuse to buy stuff, perhaps years of being encouraged to dress up (thanks bb & her mum) has finally rubbed off :)

Anyway, a friend recommended The Suit Company, a more-formal/business attire retailer whose selection and prices are actually pretty decent. Thanks cbw!

Bought a tie and jacket over the weekend that I look forward to wearing, if only the weather will turn more autumn-ish. It's 29 degrees C outside at the moment...

Oops, gotta replenish that hair wax soon :P

Kiddyland

2007-09-17T21:48:00.001+09:00

... is definitely not just for kids :) After G-nie told me about this place and his "rirekkuma" I was curious and checked it out. What kind of toy shop could be nestling close to Chanel along Omotesando(表参道) in bustling Harajuku(原宿)?

Well, six floors of most of the toys that captured the hearts of children worldwide.

Bought some cuddly stuff for my niece and upcoming nephews, plus a couple more for my sisters. Almost couldn't resist buying the 4-foot tall Jack Skellington from the Nightmare Before Christmas.

Squid Ink Omelette Rice

2007-09-13T22:16:00.001+09:00

Squid Ink Omelette Rice
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Heehee, 2nd item in my omu-raisu collection. Never thought Mediterranean-style squid ink would go well with omu-raisu, but it was pretty good :) Takashi and Hiromi took me out to this pretty interesting restaurant in Machida-shi (町田市). Judging by Hiromi's initial sniff of disdain, Machida-Shi sounded like the proverbial hill-billy country for sophisticated Tokyo socialites, but she was won over by the food and the atmosphere.

"Real sushi"

2007-09-13T22:12:00.001+09:00

"Real sushi"
Originally uploaded by bagelfire

Still can't figure out which to dip into soy sauce and which not to... but the uni was sweetly delicious. Am starting to like that stuff, despite the gooey texture. Top quality sushi if I may say so, even though I'm no expert. Wish I could find the place again though...