oh the animality!

ok, this post links a couple of my favorite topics, my veganism and my lack of religious beliefs. now, although i say these are favorite topics, i dont mean i like to talk about them all of the time. most of the time i dont like to talk about these things at all, because too often even giving these topics the weight they deserve is practically impossible by the even the occasionally open-minded. but in my daily life, i love being an atheist, and i love being a vegan. and although its pretty obvious, i didn’t really get how these two things related until recently. i have been both a vegetarian and an atheist for as long as i can remember. and neither of them were ever this eureka moment or anything, i just knew that they seemed right for me. and they have been, maybe more than anything else in my life. i love, just love that my life is lived with a love for all of my fellow creatures for their own intrinsic worth. because they are beautiful and amazing and industrious and fragile. i love that i need nothing so big or ominous as an omnipotent god, and i do not need to fuel my ambition with the (literal)lives of others. i do not say this as a look-at-me-on-my-pedestal kinda way, i mean that it just makes my contented. i look outside and see the beauty of nature and i know that it is right and good on its own merits, none that i or any god can give it.

i am reading watership down right now, a bit more slowly than my usual reading pace, because although it is a story about mere rabbits, there are moments of enlightening experiences. and these rabbits struggle with the belief in god as well. they believe in firth, a god-being that takes care of them. when some of the rabbits are saved by a timely train cutting them off from their pursuers, they deem this firths intervention. this is no more unlikely than gods hand in the lives of humans. but tell that to a christian, i am guessing they will see it differently. and where is the love for all of gods creatures by christians? in their bellies of course, because man has dominion over all these things. not beings, beautiful and free, but things. but how great, how deserving is man really? in watership down, the group meets with another village of rabbits, who are cruel and unfeeling, and respond with - animals don’t behave like men. if they have to fight, they fight; and if they have to kill, they kill. but they don’t sit down and set their wits to work to devise ways of spoiling other creatures lives’ and hurting them. we have dignity and ANIMALITY (emphasis by me). this brings to mind, what is this great humanity we think we have? yes, we have amazing cognition, reasoning, emotion, all explained by our large frontal cortex. but why do we believe in this humanity as raising us above animals. animals do not plan for the destruction of others for anything other than survival. and if they hurt another without intention to eat it, they cannot reason the repercussions as we can. yet we still do evil things to each other. i spoke with a friend recently about his religious beliefs. i respect him more than most christians, because he will willingly say i don’t know, a rare trait. but still, he refuses to look beyond the borders of what he has been taught, he confuses the indoctrination he received as a path of his own choosing. and if he reads this and is angry, i can only say that i feel this way not as any critique on his heart, he loves others well and is to be much respected, most assuredly more than me. but he, as most christians, seems to limit his love to those his faith has told him to love. for animals, he has none, at least not in the way that i perceive it. this breaks my heart, and shows the mentality that if a religious scripture tells one group to hate another, they will; if it tells one man he is better than his brother, he will believe it. and maybe it is because we have a proclivity to believe these things, it comes naturally to us. but look out beyond your own horizons. please, please search out what is greater than a word, a psalm, a parable. truth is in the flowers, the trees, the animals, and your fellow man, foreign as he may seem. to quote the great thomas edision whom is respected by most christians for his scientific achievements but would be damned for his beliefs (bringing up the topic of the insanity that people will believe in science for medicine, mathematics, astronomy, physics….but not god, oh no no) – nature is what we know. we do not know the gods of religions. and nature is not kind, or merciful, or loving. if god made me — the fabled god of the three qualities of which i spoke: mercy, kindness, love — he also made the fish i catch and eat. and where do his mercy, kindness, and love for that fish come in? no; nature made us — nature did it all — not the gods of the religions.

the love for man, nature, life, it is in us all, in our own capacities for greatness; not given, but built piece by piece. i am fortunate beyond what i deserve, not by gods grace, but by the grace of chance of birth. i do not deserve my life any more than a suffering north korean deserves theirs. but it is as it is, and i will right what needs to be righted, and appreciate what deserves to be appreciated. by my own capacity. and my own love.

BOOK REVIEW: Joshua Ferris

so whenever a book comes into my scope of vision more than once, its like i can not function correctly until i get my hands on it.  i know that this is a sign of a true fiend, an addict with little chance of recovery.  i mean, when i get a recommendation from a friend, followed by seeing the author on the daily show; or hear a favorite author mention it and then hear of a reading given by the author, its like i was meant to have that book.  now i know i was not actually meant to have it, like it was pushed towards me by some greater power, but if i take what i have read, analyze, filter, and appreciate it (hopefully without diluting it at all), i may glean something from it that will change my world view.  or i will just have a few laughs and consider it a few hours well spent on worthwhile entertainment.  the two books i read last week by joshua ferris fall somewhere in between those two categories.  

i read his most recent book first, the unnamed, even though i wanted to start with his first book, then we came to the end.  its not like the two books are related, but im a geek like that.  i had kinda heard about his first book a while ago, at least peripherally, since it had caused a bit of a stir as possibly the first book written totally in first person plural (i.e. we, us, our).  i guess i only really heard about it once, cause i never went on a do or die mission to find it.  but last month-ish ferris came out with then we came to the end.  so talk was all over about both books.  the first sounded so grammatically interesting, but i couldnt find it right off, so i started with the other, the unnamed. 

i'll be quick with this one, since it took me about 5-6 hours to read.  its about a man who cannot stop moving.  sounds like me, i thought.  but his is an impossible to diagnose issue of mental or physical illness that causes him to physically be unable to stop walking.  these bouts hit him at certain intervals, sometimes dormant for years but lasting for months and months.  this novel follows the degradation of the relationships around him because of his illness.  he has a supportive family that believes he is truly ill, but he wavers in believing it himself.  for me this was a book about the inability to allow ourselves to live with stability and certitude.  this man had the so called amercian dream, and although he never consciously wished for a more carefree lifestyle, his manic obsession with putting one foot in front of the other cannot be construed as a mere unfortunate physical anomaly.  there is a deeper, needier, more desperate reason.  i'll let you analyze the outcome for yourself, but i questioned my own constant need to leave people and things behind.

then we came to the end was funnier, darker, and more original.  it was like the movie office space, but from the point of view of all of the obnoxious, irritating office staff that just seem vapid, uninteresting, or self-interested.  the book is written in plural, which made it a riot, and set it up for one of the most lovely final sentences i have read in many years.  it is basically a set of intertwining stories told about the members of an advertising ajency that is on the road to bankruptcy from the economic downturn.  at first the characters induce snickers and eye-rolls from the reader, but after a while, a definite sense of camaraderie is built, and the characters turn into your own coworkers, and dare i say it, friends.  its not really the we in the book that does it, but more a recognizing of the flaws that are in us all, no matter how we try to hide or deny them.  but after reading all the we, us, and our, the setup for the final sentence is perfect.  all of the characters have moved on to other jobs, lives, and they all leave a final little bar gathering, one by one.  and then we come to the end.  …and with that, we’d get in our cars and open the windows and drive off, tapping the horn a final time.  but for the moment, it was nice just to sit there together.  we were the only two left.  just the two of us, you and me.  perfect.  such brevity, such clarity.  kudos ferris, i will picture this moment for a long time.  thanks.

oh my godlessness

how can i help people to understand that my atheism is as beautiful, mysterious, inspiring, and heartfelt as any form or practice of any religion could be.  the complex wonder that is nature, the universe, human existence is so rich, that i feel my heart will just about burst with the love of it all.  the fact that on out of all the planets in all the galaxies, evolution led to my two parents combining their dna to make me, little old ordinary me, is just amazing.  the drake eqaution works out how rare it is that intelligent life would exist on any given planet (and there is a hilarious use of the drake equation used to calculate one nerdy guys likelihood of finding a girlfriend here), but that doesnt take into account the chance of my parents meeting, and their parents.  the comedienne julia sweeney goes further, talking about the likelihood of even the one egg out of hundreds, and the one sperm out of millions coming together to make exactly this one person. she quotes richard dawkins, saying certainly those unborn ghosts include poets greater than keats, scientists greater than newton, but in the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and i in our ordinariness that are here.  it really does boggle the mind when thinking about it, and makes me want to take advantage of every minute all the more.  i have been given the most rare and wondrous gift imaginable, and although i may be full of ordinariness, i am determined to appreciate it as much as any person possibly could.

i never find disappointment in my atheism, like my dad does when he wishes so much that he could believe in another life after this one.  when facing his mortality, it is very difficult for him, and he never believes me when i tell him that i truly do not wish for life after death.  its like twain says, i do not fear death.  i had been dead for billions and billions of years before i was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.  of course i am one of the lucky ones.  i can be contented with the years i have spent on this earth, because i have had more opportunities than most just by the chance of being born in america.  i have lived more experiences because i have had options, choices that so few ever get to make.  the children that die without yet living, those that suffer at the hands of others, it does not seem fair that their one chance has been so spoiled.  but of course nature is not about fairness, and i can only appreciate my life and do my best to help others have the opportunities that i have had.

but there is one instance where my atheism does make me feel sad.  again, julia sweeney presents it so perfectly in her program letting go of god.  she talks about how when she finally came to terms with the fact that there is no god, she had to go through the deaths of those loved ones that had passed all over again.  it was especially heartbreaking to hear her talk about her brother, who died a painful death from cancer, and whom she always thought she would see again in heaven.  but she had to admit that his suffering was nothing more than a fact of being a human animal, and that it was not a part of a grand plan, and she would never see him again, he is dead.  just dead.  so its really not for myself that i feel heartsick, but for those that deserve a heaven where they can make up for time lost on earth.  in a more trivial way, its like a really tragic scene in a book or movie where a character dies in their lovers arms, and the only way you can keep from blubbering is to tell yourself that they will be together again in heaven.  without that caveat, it is depressing sometimes.  but at least the bittersweetness means that the life was well lived, because the person was well loved.  and i do consider myself fortunate here as well, because i have never believed in heaven, and i imagine it would be very difficult to let go of the idea that your loved ones are waiting for you, if you had been banking on that your whole life.  the regrets will be stronger, the pains more hurtful, because there is no taking anything back, never a second chance.  of course its impossible to always be loving and kind and just and free from all judgement of others (at least it is for me), but it is so important to give it your best shot, because there will never be another opportunity like this one.

i could write all night about my love for my atheism (and i truly do love it, if i may be anthropomorphic), but for now i'll sign off with a video from one of my favorite atheist explainers(?), qualiasoup on youtube.

oh the pain, the beauty!

so i had gone to this massage place a couple of times, nothing all that special, but it has a friendly atmosphere and it is never too busy.  last week i happened to get the girl that speaks the most english, and she was admiring my tattoos during the massage.  afterwards, she introduced me to one of the other girls downstairs that had 3 tattoos, and if i understood correctly, had been done in a tample famous for tattooing.  here tattoos are relatively common on men of a certain economic class, but can be seen on women, and rarely on the wealthy.  these specific tattoos are called sak yant, and they are only done by buddhist monks.  the one seen most often is the hah taew, which means five lines.  it is slightly different depending on which monk applies it, it is his own prayer.  it usually includes wishes for good fortune,  protection against evil spirits, or to show loving kindness.  the mantra commonly associated with it is :

Namo Putta Ya Na Metti
Mo Putta Ya Na Na Metti
Putta Ya Namo Na Metti
Ta Ya Namo Put Na Metti
Ya Namo Putta Na Metti

anyway, the woman asked me if i wanted to go with her to the temple.  of course i was up for it, it sounded pretty darned cool.  then she told be to make sure to bring enough money for the tattoo.  i was a little like, eh, what?  i told them okay, but i might just watch the first time.  i had planned on getting some work done here, but i am super hard line on always planning the tattoo out, discussing it with the artist, going over the artwork a few times.  but hey, when was i going to have another chance to get tatted up by a monk in a temple?  well, maybe id have a lot of chances, seeing as how it only took me a month to stumble upon someone willing to take me, but hey, make the most out of every opportunity, it might not come along again.

so we drove a couple of hours to get to the temple.  it turned out it was like a group outing, because its kind hard to get out there and get an appointment, so there were actually 4 of us getting tattooed that day.  the people i went with were super cool, way chill and fun.  the sister of the woman i had met was the driver, and she spoke great english, and was very cool, way nice and helpful, and a very interesting person to meet in her own right.  so we showed up and had to buy an offering of an orchid and cigarettes, and then headed up to the monks room to get started.  a man was just getting finished up when we showed up, and i got to see what i was in for.  now this is the seriously traditional style of tattooing.  no tat gun here, just 2 foot long metal rods with a giant fucking tip on the end.  the needle has little notch on the end for the inkwell, and he basically just dips it in ink and starts stabbing it into your skin.  way cool.   

so of course, as the guest, they let me go first.  lucky me.  so you put the offering on a golden platter and hand it to the monk.  he doesnt take it right away, he holds onto the other side and prays over you first.  my only hesitation here was my staunch atheism, i was wondering if i should be supporting this outdated mumbo jumbo  that obviously has no hold in the real world.  i mean, should i really be getting a prayer tat when i am so against religion of any kind?  but you know, i cant be so friggin judgmental all of the time!  this is part of a rich history and culture of a people, and i am lucky to be able to have the experience as part of it.  so i viewed this tattoo as a mark of the experience, instead of a perfectly designed piece of art as i had before.  so after he prayed over me, he put on a rubber glove (which i later learned was not for the hygiene.  he tattoos men without any glove, but monks are not allowed to touch a womans skin, so this is how they get around that.  this monk mentioned that when he started to get popular as a tattooist, he got a lot of flak for tattooing women) and got started.  i dont know if it is more painful than getting tatted with a gun, because every time you get a tattoo it hurts more than you remeber.  but yeah, it hurt.  like a bitch.  but it was only about 30 minutes.  i was a bit nervous, cause i had no say in how it would look, or where it was placed.  there wasnt even a mirror in the room to check it out, it was all up to him.  but i just kept telling myself, its for the experience, it may not be perfect but the enrichment of my life is worth it.  after he was done he rubbed it for a few minutes and prayed over me again.  he didnt really speak english, but once during the procedure he said are you okay? and everyone laughed.  so for every customer that day he asked, are you okay?, and people cracked up.  it was a pretty fun experience, like 6 of us just chatting (the sister translating for me).  it wasnt this austere feeling or anything, just lighthearted and enjoyable.  

afterwards this random guy got to cut in line and get his next, so we ended up being there almost all day.  i walked around the grounds and saw all of the shrines. at one point i could hear someone saying, hello, hello!  it took me a while to figure out, but this older man was hailing me from across the courtyard area.  he kind of jogged over and looked at my back.  he said five lines, five lines!  i nodded, acknowledging that i had just gotten the tattoo.  in english he said, thank you, thank you, five lines!  [this country] is so good, five lines is so good.  thank you, thank you!  the whole time he was enthusiastically shaking my hand.  i had been a bit worried about the locals giving me the side-eye for getting a traditional tattoo as a foreigner, but after this im pretty sure i wont have to worry about that too much.  after that i walked over to the lovely river the temple was on (thankfully like 5-10 degrees cooler than where i live) and had a nice bowl of noodles while watching all of the fish.  


eventually i walked back up and watched the others get their work finished.  it was a really long day, but new, interesting, and beautiful.  we drove home with everyone exhausted, and i hopped out when the traffic got heavy and grabbed public transport home.  but not before exchanging numbers, promising to hang with these folks again soon.  i think i made a really good friend out of the sister, we are planning to cook dinner together at her place so she can show me some recipes.  when i got home she texted me asking if it would be okay if she considered me a sister.  never having had one, i thought it was a very sweet sentiment.  

oh, and of course the tat looks amazing.  delicate, beautiful, and full of lovely memories of that day.  and one bonus (although i never quibble about tattoo prices, its an art and should be treated as such) it only cost like seven bucks.  win!

oh my traveling heart

my favorite miyazaki anime is mimi wo sumaseba (us title: whispers of the heart).  it is so simple and sweet and lovely.  a young girl who finally challenges herself when a young boy who wants to become a master violin maker falls for her.  the animation and story are both much more simple than the fantasy-type anime, but it is perfect and moving and just plain heartwarming.  in it, the girl translates the john denver song country roads.  but her translation is sooo much better than the original song.  and i feel the emotion of it in my on heart every time i hear it.  so i wrote it out, and even though the given translation is not spot on, and the japanese lyrics are a bit off at the end (i just couldnt make them out), little is lost of the loveliness.  so here it is.

Country Road

Hitoribochi, hosore tu ni             No one is with me, going fearlessly

Hiki yo to yume miteta                 That’s the way I live in the dream I see

Samishi sa hoshi kometa              I must put my loneliness away

Tsuyoi jibum mo ma mo ikeko     Protect myself and learn to be strong

Country road, komo machi          Country road

Tsuyuta tsukeba                           It will take me back to my home

Ano machi ni tsizu iteru                I can feel it now, if I just keep

Kinasuru, Country road               to this far off way, Country road 

Donna samishii bokidatte            It wont matter how lonely the times get          

Keshite namina wa misenaide       You’ll never see me cry

Kokoro nashi kahojo ya hayaku  I know I must take heart, andthat hurrying

Natteiku omoide kesutane           Is all I can do to forget

Country road, komo michi           Country road, it may take me

Furusatoei buiteba                       back to my hometown, but even so

Boku wa ikanai sa                         I cant go, I wont go

Ikanai, Country road                    Country Road

Country road, hoshitaba             Country road, Steeling my heart

Hitsumono boku sa                      I will not go now,

Bayunetai Nayarenai                   Not while I’m free

Sayonara, Country Road          So its farewell, Country road

oh yeah, so what am i doing here anyway?

it seems that a few of the people reading this blog (okay, my mom) are not totally sure what it is that i actualy do here out adrift, tethered to hq in america by the flimsiest of threads.  one reason i had been kind of hesitant to go into it is because i had the choice of running a blog that talked about where i am but not what i do, or the inverse; what i do but not where i am.  ive finally worked it out that it is much more interesting to talk about the challenges ahead, the experiences that are so rich and so meaningful, without actually having to go into the specifics of a pinpointed geographical location.  so here goes:

ive been working for a human rights non-profit for the last 7-ish months.  i am now running a shelter that assists in the placement of north korean refugees in the united states, a part of a larger network that helps these heartbreakingly oppressed people to find a chance at a "normal" life.  a chance to do the things that so many of us take for granted, like accessing the internet, speaking our minds, and maybe the simplest thing (but most important) of all, just filling our bellies.  i had been aware of this issue for years, i was lucky enough to have a father that, although a business conservative, is a social liberal.  he taught me a lot about the different situations that people are facing around the world.  however, it was presented in a very matter-of-fact manner, and not really in a way that made it seem that anything could possibly be done by an outsider.  so as i grew up, entered college, then grad school, i got behind a lot of causes.  environmentalism, gay rights, things that were important to me and impacted my life daily.  but most of the time it was as a side dish to the eentrée of my life, like academics or travel.  but spending a year in a hospital bed changed all that.  now i dont want it to sound like this epic sob story, like, i have to re-learn to walk, and laying there in the hospital bed i read a book that opens my eyes to the way i can devote myself to something bigger, and i swear i will no longer live selfishly traveling around the world but will give myself to the cause!  okay, this is actually kinda how it happened, but i just didnt know it at the time.  anyway, i was lying in a hospital bed for months, and months, and picked up mike kims book escaping north korea after being charmed by him on the daily show.  the thing that really got to me, was how a pretty normal person can decide to go all crazy spy-like and start crossing borders and smuggling refugees.  i was just thinking a person must need mad awesome contacts, or tons of cash or something.  i knew that kind of lifestyle would work for me, and i feel devoted enough to this specific cause that i would be more than willing.  and my wide range of experiences has prepared me with a certain skill set that many people do not have.  but hey, there's no way a tiny white girl with not one contact in any north korean human rights group could just expect to walk in and be like, hey, where do i sign up to like, smuggle refugees and stuff? right?  turns out, i could.

so, im not sure if i am allowed to name the group i work for, although two seconds of internet research could give you the answer.  but after returning to america from two years in japan (and a year in the hospital), i looked around for a group that was involved with this issue.  it turned out to be harder than i thought, because there are so few people that even know these atrocities in north korea are even going on, and the groups that do work in this field are all religious.  i am a staunch athiest, and there was no way i could become involved in an organization that was saving people to save their souls, instead of for the wonderful and amazing and deserving human beings that they are.  luckily enough i finally found a fantastic organization headed by people barely out of their teens, determined to practically carry these people out on their fucking backs if need be.  sometimes the money isnt there, and things are still getting sorted, but its a group of individuals who are determined to give every ounce of themselves to not only bringing awareness about the cause, but doing something epic, helping to rebuild the lives that have been almost destroyed by the most oppressive regime that exists on earth today.  i knew i wanted in.

so i spent my fall touring around the country (the us), living out of a van, teaching, discussing, and hopefully inspiring.  getting people to admit that this problem can be solved if enough like minded people take action, and getting them to pledge some sort of action, to not forget it as soon as finals get to stressful or the job hunt becomes more important.  i met some phenomenal people on the road, people that were so rich in character, i felt fortunate just to spend a few hours with them.  and honestly, i loved it.  i loved getting up and talking to people about something i truly believe in, and discussing ways to bring change.  i loved studying the issue everyday, and being ready to give thoughtful, accurate, and succinct answers to any question thrown at me.  i considered it a great challenge, to not give people any reason to doubt the severity of this issue, but also not to doubt the fact that something could be done.  and it has, this organization, the work of these few young people, has already resulted in bringing 27 people out of nk/china and into safety.

so after this tour, i was back at the office wondering what would come next.  i had already mentioned half-jokingly to the staff that i was interested in becoming a protection officer, someone who works at one of the shelters and is responsible for every aspect of the refugees lives, from border to border.  but i knew it would never work.  im white, i dont speak korean, and im inexperienced.  well.  so im white, big deal, im not in nk or china, so it doesnt matter, there are while people everywhere in se asia.  and for experience, i have tons in many fields.  it might not be in this specifically, but i have done enough strange things in my life that it seems to fit perfectly.  the language was the killer though.  so i didnt really think about it.

two days after getting back from tour, i got called into the office about the protection officer position.  i figured it was the requisite, sorry, wont work, thanks for playing.  so wrong.  it was more like, pack your bags, you leave in 5 days.  so much for the first christmas at home in 4 years.  they decided that sending a korean speaker with me that could train me would work, and though not ideal, still better than any alternatives.  and mostly i think it was my drive.  okay, i know this sounds vain, but i can do anything.  i know i can.  i have no special skills, am not particularly talented at anything, but if given enough time, ive got the will to do whatever it takes.  so bring it!

now, things havent worked out as planned.  the girl that came out with me totally pussed out, like hardcore.  left me high and dry.  but already working on a contingency.  i rustled up an korean teacher (a korean ex-pat that normally teaches piano, but what of it).  and im taking the time while where we have a lull in refugees to learn everything i can.  korean, the local language, local cooking.  also writing an english curriculum for the lessons we give here.  and quite a few other projects that will hopefully help how this organization runs the field program in the future.  so im living it, loving it, and cant wait until these efforts start bearing fruit.

so i will start updating this blog with the trials of all of these efforts, what works and what doesnt, what drives me to the brink and what pulls me back.  and maybe the occasional flashback to my past (hawaii, japan, etc). so i hope you stick round for the ride, i know i will.

oh that wild and wacky weather (oh the alliteration)

wow!! i have seen a few pretty cool water-related events in my time. an incalculable amount of waterfalls, torrential canyon floods, and one especially memorable storm at Lake Powell, where thousands of gallons of water burst from an overhead cliff after the windiest, rainiest, wildest storm i had ever seen. the flood we had here last week was much more tame, but that was what made it so interesting.

i had been up in my second floor room reading for a few hours. the rain broke very quickly, going from the first few hesitant drops to a full blown tropical storm in minutes. but ive lived in the sub tropics before, and didnt really think too much of it, even though i couldnt help but flinch at the loudest of the thunderclaps. a couple of times it seemed that the rain would let up, but it came in pretty full force for about 4 hours. when it finally reached no more than a trickle, i decided to take a quick peek outside to see what the damage was. as i stepped of the last stair onto the first floor landing, my foot splashed into about 3 inches of water. sigh. immediately i flashed back to the past P.O. telling me about the first floor getting a bit wet during the rainy season. funny how that completely slipped my mind. hopefully i can be forgiven, as my week of intense training left me saying "yup, uh-huh, i understand" and then at least 60% of whatever was said flying directly out of my head.

anyway, i ventured out a bit further; luckily only the living room floor and hallway are lower than ground level, so there wast too much to worry about it the house. i grabbed my wallet to head to the convenience store for a coke zero (my one western habit i just cant seem to break), and to check out the neighborhood. i tentatively opened the front gate, as there was quite a bit of water sloshing under the crack. i was pretty unprepared for the amount of water that had collected in such a short time. at least 2.5 feet of water had turned our residential street into a creeping river. perched on the top rail of the gate, i quickly drew my foot back before it could be suckered on from some creature of the deep. i leaned out as far as i could to see the main street that runs perpendicular, about 200 feet away. there i could see cars bumper to bumper, with the requisite scooters moving in between. a truck turned down my street, and by the time he passed my house, he was throwing up a pretty good-sized wake, enough to try to shake me off of the gate. after he passed i decided to give it a go, it looked lively and inviting down the street, i could hear people laughing from their stoops, getting a good view of the chaos in the streets.

as i stepped into the murky water, or course the first thing that came to mind was the one and only rat i had seen living here. i was sure i would be attacked my a mob of rats trying to get out of the water, like in indiana jones or something. they would try to climb up my legs like tree trunks (not improper grammar, i mean both they would climb them like tree trunks and they would climb up my tree-trunk like legs). or i would at least have to look away as i saw swollen, bloated bodies of dead..what...rats, roaches? i dont know, needless to say i didnt see anything gross or dead, just some dirty water. hiking my skirt up i walked down the street, a normally 3 minute walk now a 15 minute trudge. the neighboors waved and laughed from their balconies, and i waved back, by now very used to being the silly foreigner wherever i live.

the main street was indeed chaos, cars lining the street as far as i could see in either direction. the scooter taxis were making good time though, weaving in and out, the girls on the back trying to keep their heels out of the water. some people were trying to build little barriers to keep the water out of their shops, but most of the shops are raised enough to stay tolerably dry. i shook my feet off as best as i could, and hopped in the 7-11. the floors were lined with cardboard, but it was a challenge to stay upright when my shoes did find some linoleum. still a novice in the language, i just kinda pointed out the door and laughed to the clerk as i was checking out, and he did the same. some people looked annoyed, but most were just enjoying the breakup of routine. as i sloshed my way back to the house i collected our trash bin that had floated down the street, and in the house i tried to put anything important on a high self. today i finally got around to sweeping and mopping the house out. random garbage, some rugs went into the garbage, but the killer is the big tub of kitty litter that had been sitting out (which i hadnt even been aware of, we dont have a cat). it is now a giant tub of inflated muck covered by 2 inched of water. i havent touched it, it is still sitting there. maybe i'll get lucky and the next flood will carry it away...

now this was a pretty fun event for me, but as these tropical locations are built up, and the groundwater from these torrential rainstorms can no longer seep into the soil, it does cause major problems. read about current issues in this area here: http://www.silobreaker.com/flooding-11_417923

urbanization without sustainable design will not only destroy the surrounding ecosystems, it puts the very people living in them in serious jeopardy. so please keep that in mind when deciding where to vacation. love to all in this wonderful new year!!!

oh the food!!

people who know me at all know that a major love of my life is food. i think it falls second only to books. and the food in se asia falls second only to afghani food for me, so im pretty much in a constant state of bliss here. the mixture of flavors is what really makes the cuisine here something to relish. sweet, spicy, sour, salty, all in one dish. it seems overwhelming, but when done right is a miraculous event for the tastebuds. and what a change coming from japan, where the flavors are so subtle, so muted, that it takes a ...oh lets say, serene palate to really enjoy them. and not that one is really better than the other, i more than anyone appreciate a good zaru tofu. having worked in an organic tofu shop, it made me something of a tofu snob, and where most people not only couldnt tell the difference, but most likely wouldnt care, i will go into a near faint when presented with fresh, rich, tofu, or - soy be praised - yuba (the oily skin skimmed from the top of cooling soymilk). sigh...

ok, reminiscing aside, the food here is enjoyed in a whole other part of the brain it seems, or at least a different part of the tongue. panang curry (fav by far), pho, som tam, spring rolls, mango with sticky rice (uuuuhhhhh, so good). the potency of the herbs is amazing, basil, cliantro, garlic, ginger, chillies, in quantities that feel will bust out your sinuses. and the drinks! all different kinds of teas, boba drinks, smoothies. wow, they sure like things sweet over here. now i'm not complaining, cause i have a sweet tooth like no other, but boy howdy do i exceed a healthy sugar intake most days. in the above photo i am having the most AMAZING drink i have ever had. i stopped by many of the food carts out on new years eve , and besides the mango salad and a bamboo stalk filled with sticky rice and azuki, i had a syrupy beverage that was filled with yellow beans, lychee, black jelly, a bunch of other stuff i couldnt identify (all of it sweetened), and wouldnt you know it was topped off with my favorite of root vegetables, rankon (sweetened of course). it was such an amazing mix of flavors and textures, it was the most i have ever enjoyed a drink, bar none. i would have gotten a second, but there was no way i could fit another one in my already distended belly. now, you didnt have to add all of the ingredients if you didnt want them, but i just had the vendor add a little of everything. and thats what makes the food so great here, there's a bit for every taste. when you get a noodle dish, there is usually a tray nearby with crushed red chillies, sugar, fish or oyster sauce, and some other random seasoning. i of course love my dishes spicy and sweet, so im usually applying liberal amounts of the chillies and sugar. i have only been here a month and i am happy to say that i can ask the vendors to add more chillies, even in this region known for serving the food already quite spicy. but its not like i think i can handle more spice than the locals, its that im pretty sure they tone down the spice for the foreigner, and i need to get them to boost it to an adequate level. and by adequate i mean nose slightly running but not quite sweating. and one big plus is there are plenty of places that serve gluten and such as a meat substitute (although i dont really consider it a substitute, its well deserved as being an edible in its own right), so i can get noodle dishes with lots of tofu and meaty gluten as a hearty meal. im sure i have eaten oyster sauce or something a few times, but overall the vegan experience has been a good one, i certainly dont feel like i am missing out on anything. if i do decide to try a meat dish (something i allow myself once in other countries as a "cultural experience"), it would have to be something with shrimp, as that is by far the most common "meat" addition, and admittedly i do loves me some shrimp. or did at one point in my life.

so if i come back to the states a few pounds heavier, you will all know why. luckily most of the food is pretty healthy, but im a bit of a glutton, and have a hard time understanding the concept of moderation. and luckily the food is cheap, but even so i am well prepared to spend a good percentage of my money on what is going into my gut. although i have been putting in a good effort into recreating these dishes in the kitchen, and am doing okay so far with drunken noodles and green mango salads. id like to take some cooking classes, but i think an exercise class might be a bit more necessary if i dont want to be rolled home like violet beauregarde.

...hunger is the best spice...

Jasper Fforde's The Eyre Affair, The Big Over Easy, and The Fourth Bear

OLD POST
a review i wrote some years back about ffords other series'

So I will continue with the thread of reviewing lit on lit. Except this time it’s not a review of a critique, but delving into the world of literary characters becoming real life individuals in the stories by Jasper Fforde. He has two major series, both of which center on the respective heroes, Thurday Next and Jack Spratt.

The Thursday Next series begins with The Eyre Affair, in which a maniacal villain alters the plotlines of major literary works, e.g. Jane Eyre, for evil and world ending intentions. Now I had not read Jane Eyre beforehand (an abomination I know, but the Bronte sisters have never been my favorite writing team, I’m more of a Coen brothers fan if we are talking sibling writing duos.) Anyway, I think it would behoove someone to read Jane Eyre first, because the twists and alterations of the plot would be better appreciated if the reader knew what they were supposed to be in the first place. However, I don’t think it really took anything away for me (and I would still rather not wade through

scores of pages of chance meetings and romantic misunderstandings.) The Eyre Affair itself was fantastic, merging an ever so real and obvious disgust with pointless wars *clearing of the throat* with a detective escapade that weaves in and out of literary history. The character Detective Thursday Next is quite the heroine, strong and capable, but not without her own set of emotional issues, which only make her more charming. When the book wrapped up, I went right to the nearest bookstore to pick up the next in the series (there are 5 more books, the most recent due out July 2007. However, as luck would have it Lost in a Good Book was sold out, so I began The Big Over Easy, which is Fford’s move from literary manipulations to Nursery Crime (play of words on nursery rhyme for those a little slow on the uptake).

A different feel to this series, although the main character Jack Spratt is the lovable and honest underdog, I didn’t get the same connection as with Thursday Next. However, I still enjoyed the book immensely, and the ideas behind it still slightly genius. In Spratt’s world, he heads up the Nursery Crime Division (NCD), which deals mainly with the protection or capture of PDR’s, Persons of Dubious Reality. The Big Over Easy deals with the murder of Humpty Dumpty, a booze swilling depressed letch. It’s a good introduction to the characters and the plot methods, but I feel like the real magic doesn’t come out until the second book of the series, The Fourth Bear. By the time the reader reaches this point, they have already become familiar with the characters and more attention can be paid to the story. Both books of this series have criminal elements that are at some times predictable but then become so convoluted that it’s difficult to remember who is who. More than once I had to flip back a few chapters to remind myself which corrupt corporation was being discussed, or which seemingly innocent character now may be the evil mastermind. Then as if by magic Detective Jack Spratt suddenly knows exactly who the bad guy is and how to catch them and save the world. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing, a story laced with nursery rhyme characters would be expected to be wrapped up in a neat little bow by the conclusion of the book. And a nice little addition to the second book is the internal struggle that Detective Spratt has with his own questionable reality. The bottom line is that while reading all of Fforde’s books there where multiple times that I found myself literally slapping the book against my leg, so moved by the wit that was just so perfect, intelligent yet completely unguarded. The characters make fun of themselves on more than one occasion, and the best jokes are totally simple. When Detective Spratt asks the character Vinnie (who happens to be a bear) if he can get him past a pretty intimidating line of police officers, Vinnie smiles and replies, “Do I shit in the woods?” Infantile maybe, but if you don’t crap up (I mean crack up, I swear that was a real typo) than I’ll eat my…well… not that… but how bout my book…

shades of grey

as most of you well know (since i have been bragging about it for days), i found a copy of the yet-to-be-released jasper fforde novel, shades of grey. i'm not sure why its available here, and i especially dont understand why its available in paperback, something that may be years away in western markets. (actually, now that i think about it, i dont remember seeing any hardcovers in the store. i'll have to check this next time) anyway, at 400 odd pages it took me about 2.5 days to read, pretty average for a fictional page-turner for me.

the first thing that jumped out at me was how similar in style, story, and feel it was to the 1884 satyrical novel flatland by edwin abbott abbott. similar daffy yet likeable protagonist, similar social hierarchy, in flatland based on shape, and in shades of grey on color perception. sofg actually seemed a bit more like the flatland film than the movie, but im a little sketchy on seperating the two, so i could be mistaken. anyhow, the sofg had a very familiar feel about it, so much so that i went online, while careful to read no spoilers, tried to find out if fforde referenced abbotts work as an inspiration/influence for his own. he did not. hm.

okay, on to the characters. i said before that the protagonist was likeable, but i really mean he is not unlikeable. i myself didnt particularly like him. and i ususally LOVE the protagonists from ffords novels. the brash and hot-headed thursday next, or the always downtrodden yet dependable jack spratt. both of these characters have their flaws, but are strong and true, and will usually make the selfless decision. they are more than characterizations, they are rich and complex, you care about their reputations, their futures, and it sounds hokey, but their lives. those are two of my favorite characters in british lit, because i feel they earn it, you go through all the trials with them, feeling their frustrations, reveling in their success. in ffords first two series where these characters are featured (fforde is a serial writer), i love the protagonists, villans, friends, even the side characters. reading his books are like a little view into how i hope i would carry myself in hilariously dangerous situations (i am going to be posting an old review of ffordes work now that i've gone on so much about it). now, the protagonist from sofg. hm, what to say. he's a slightly bumbling though mosty good-natured sap that lets himself get taken advantage of over and over again. he can (and does) prove himself to be, if not a hero, than hero lite. he's got a strong woman to back him up (all of ffords novels feature strong, outspoken women), but even she falls a little flat. one of the reasons it is harder to identify is that athough ffordes first two series take place in odd worlds (one jumping in and out of literature, the other in a world of nursery rhyme characters), the same basic set of world-views apply. people can still be kind or murderous, forthright or devious, and they are always aware of the world around them. but the world built in sofg is something that we cant really relate to, a dystopia that follows such bizarre rules, it is unknowable, unreachable. and this is okay if the piece is a commentary on social hierarchy, as flatland is. i didnt identify with the character in flatland, but i wasnt really meant to. i mean, he was a two dimensional square. as much as i can, i dont REALLY know what it would feel like to be 2D. And even closing my eyes, imagining his world, i still wouldnt know his feelings, or care all that much actually. its much the same for the main character here, eddie. he is gullible, naive, and a bit of a whinger (i love the word whinger btw, i cant stop using it instead of whiner after listening to gervais' podcasts). i never really cared what decisions he made, because he just annoyed me to much. and the transformation that his love interest jane goes through is much too abrupt, it seemed dishonest to her character, and to the reader.

as far as the story goes, its okay enough, but i dont want to spoil it. just know that its an entertaining enough read, but dont expect the magic and fantastic wordplay that jasper fforde gave us in his previous series. ill probably read the next in line when it comes out, but i'll borrow it from the library or something. and for me to not NEED to own the book, like a need that makes me sweat and pant in the bookstore, thats saying something. but it still better than 80% of the tosh out there, so you might want to give it a try.

trust

what is it about some people that makes them totally loyal to their word? the kind of person that as soon as the words leave their lips, they become something more, something of truth, fact, honesty. i love that in people. it is so rare, but so incalculably valuable. of course, there are very few people like that in this world. the bulk of people say things they dont mean, or things they think they mean at the time, or things they want to mean but know that they will never truly come to pass. the reality of just how many people are not more careful about how their words relate to their actions, about how their chain of actions defines who they are as a person. i have traveled a lot, more than the average person. and while i have met an amazing number of fantastic, enthralling amazing people (more than i deserve im sure), few of those people are actually devoted to being honest to themselves and others. dont get me wrong, those people are out there, and i owe my health and happiness to a few of them. but those types of people are far to few in number than should really be the case.

when i talk about honesty and truth, it ranges all the way from going out on an appointed date to living up to the morality we all build for ourselves. if you, as a human, have set certain rules, codes, goals to live by, stay true to them. this doesnt mean that a person cant change their mind or find a different path., but when others are dependent on the scaffolding that you build to hold your life in place, if it come tumbling down, its not just you who goes down with it.

i consider myself a person that hold very true to their mission. although i wish it were, it is not for the altruistic reason that other people are depending on me, or that feel a drive to stick to my guns for the sake of others. its for much more selfish reasons. i like a challenge, i dont like to lose or look the fool. i like trials of endurance or fighting through severe restrictions. but i do like knowing that what i say can be trusted. that if i make a decision to devote myself to something, those involved know that i will do whatever it takes to get it done. part of this is because of my lifestyle. because i dont have many people very close to me, i can focus on one goal, one plan at a time. finishing my masters in hawaii; once done, that goal, those people, i dont feel as connected to (i was going to say obligated, but that seems harsh, i dont look at my relationships as "obligations"). went to japan, met great people, finished that. now working to help NK refugees. i can devote myself to it fully, because there is nothing else absorbing the limited amount of resources that every human being has. so i know it may be easier for me than some, because of the way i have chosen to live my life. but it doesnt negate that EVERY person should be held to their word, and they should WANT to be held to it, to prove themselves as forthright and honorable individuals.

i know that every person is at times deceitful, a coward, weak, scared, hurt. we all are, we all make bad or selfish decisions, we all sometimes feel like the world is out to get us or that maybe no one is watching out for us. but it should not keep us from trying with every ounce of ourselves to be the anti-hypocrite. if when people are asked what is the first thing they think of when they think of me, if it is something along the lines of sincere, or genuine, or just plain dependable, i will consider myself successful. and not just to the one person that is maybe most important to me, but to every person in my life.

Perhaps the most valuable result of all education is the ability to make yourself do the thing you have to do, when it ought to be done, whether you like it or not; it is the first lesson that ought to be learned; and however early a man's training begins, it is probably the last lesson that he learns thoroughly. Thomas H. Huxley

oh the shopping

every time i move to a new place (or return to an old one, for that matter), i am convinced that i have found the epicenter of materialism. the shopping obsession seems almost rabid as soon an one gets within 10 miles of a strip mall, emporium, outlet, whatever. when i lived in japan i always joked that shopping was the national pastime. i was sure there was no where on earth that could rival their love for spending. but now i'm not so sure...

backtracking a bit, i'm not saying that all shopping is a gross perversion of a stable economy, for there are a lot of positives as well. i mean, one of the most amazing experiences of my life was finding my way through the markets in egypt. the smells were so rich, a mix of the literal barrels of spices on display with the street food like sweet potatoes or grilled corn. and the markets stay open into the early hours of the morning as to avoid the stifling heat of the day. (and on a side note, being the only caucasain, and more importantly the only female, in an egyptian market at 2am leads to some interesting encounters. seriously.) but the markets were obviously the hub of social interaction, people more often chatting about their kids than whipping out a credit card. but this is hardly the norm. and im not trying to romanticize the mysterious "other" or anything, but its pretty hard to see anything but money pass between people at the average us or japanese mall.

(laptop sleeve/bag)

now i'm not trying to claim that i am somehow above all of this, because in truth this post is about some amazing articles that i have purchased here. i'm trying to say that before you bust out your wallet, try to think about what you are buying, if you really need it, and most importantly, where it came from. because where i am living now, i am drowning in knock off bags and generic fashion. its like a forever 21 factory exploded over the whole city. in general, i am so tired of seeing 100 of the same shirt that lacks any kind of individuality or expression. truth be told, before i moved to japan i thought fashion

was bunk, but i really started to see the self-expression that was allowed fashion in a society that sometimes tries to squelch individuality. but come on people, try buying from artists, small businesses, people who still put love into their designs. after wading through all of the crap here, i have found a few designers that i cant help but want to buy their goods, share them with my friends, and have back-ups for when those wear out. i know it sounds silly, and maybe there really isnt a difference between buying off the rack and searching out unique creations, but i

want to believe there is.

so here are a few pictures of bags i picked up from an awesome designer (wish i could post the name, but i'm not allowed). i love everything about them. the prints are beautiful and original, and the materials are all pvc (yay vegan!) and are constructed incredibly well. i've already been to the wholesale shop, and most of you can expect one for any upcoming holiday :P

but all of this being said, even though i feel all holier than thou because they are unique items from a local business, is it really all that different than trolling the aisles at wal-mart? probably not so much. and yes, i do get carried away sometimes, i mean, i could live very easily on 2 pairs of pants, a few t's, and maybe one suit. (although remember, i'm pretty close to that. all i own in the world fits on 8 boxes, 6 of which are all books). anyway, when i feel the urge to own some random article that i really dont need, i pick up thoreau's walden and read a couple of lines.

"perhaps we should never procure a new suit, however ragged or dirty the old, until we have so conducted, so enterprised or sailed in some way, that we feel like new men in the old..."

mmm, back to writing. possibly the only thing that connects me to the places i've lived. everything else i leave behind, the friends, the language, the society. okay, that sounds a bit dramatic, obviously i still talk to some of the people i've built relationships with along the way. i can still bust out a little pidgin or japanese on occasion. and i can't act like i haven't absorbed the parts of the societies that i have lived in as part of my own personality; the laid-back island life or ordered and isolated politeness of japan. oh, and of course the outdoorsy childhood i had that makes me more comfortable with sleeping in a field than in a hotel. okay, so maybe writing isnt the only thing that connects me, but its the only time i feel like i'm the same person no matter what chair i'm sitting in. whatever it is that i see outside of my window, when the self-analysis kicks in and i make my feeble attempts at arranging my life in some orderly fashion, i'm brought back to the core of who i am. both the good and bad about myself, all of the things that make me me are laid bare. i think that's what writing does to a person, because if you're not being honest, it not only feels superficial to yourself, it soon becomes apparent to others that you are holding something back or giving a bit too much *wink to james frey*.

so here i am, sitting in a generic chair looking out of an ordinary window, back at my computer after a bit of an absence. but my location and purpose here are a bit less ordinary. i see tropical plants pretty similar to what i have seen in the past, hear the same squawking birds. but the language floating up from the street is new to me, the phonetics so bizarre to my untutored ears. i had forgotten how difficult the first few months in a new country are, when you can't even return greetings, or give pleasantries like please and thank you. and the friendliness of the people actually makes it a bit more difficult. if the general populace keeps to themselves, there aren't many people greeting you on the street, testing your linguistic abilities. but here where your foreign-ness is a curiosity in the neighborhood, people are constantly questioning your nationality, reason for being here, if you are having "fun" here (a question i was never asked in japan in 2 years), but i'm at the point where i cant differentiate one question from the next, or if i am supposed to give a response at all. yet again i am reduced to a smile accompanied by a polite nod, or a wave with a quizzical look. being a somewhat seclusionary (yes, totally made up word, but it fits) person myself, this more involved behavior may take some getting used to. especially because of the nature of my work here. the balance of public and private life must be hammered out to the acceptance of both the neighbors, myself, and most importantly the people i'm working with. right now the lack of language ability may play in my favor, just being the ignorant yet well meaning foreigner. but soon the novelty of that will wear off, and i had better be able to converse a bit for sanity's sake, as well as getting along well with those i come into contact with on a daily basis. and then there is the small matter of my studying korean as well. sigh, well, if i can get out of this boasting some conversational skills in 4 languages, it will sound quite impressive. as long as there are no native speakers present, cause then i wont sound impressive so much as speaking on a 6 year olds level. :)

so my first week here has been basically learning the transportation system. a complex ballet of leaping from bus to subway to cab to motorcycle to get to the places i need to go. and boy are there a lot of places. this job requires a pretty decent knowledge of very local places, from administration buildings to where to get the cheapest vegetables. and i have been very fortunate the the person training me has been so patient. and although i appreciate to no end the amount of work she is putting in, i know i wont really get the hang of it until i start making my own ridiculous mistakes. i know at some point i am going to end up on the wrong side of town with little idea of how i got there, and even worse, how to get back. but seeing the openness of the people here, i know that i'll be able to laugh it off and get the assistance i need. my dad always jokes that i was born under a lucky star, because i have always been able to find help along the way, whether it be with a life-altering issue, or just how to get to the nearest bus station. maybe the reason i have been able to step outside the box a bit more than others is not because of an independence in my own personality, but because of my awareness that there is rarely a time when there wont be someone, somewhere that can help me over whatever obstacle i am facing. well, okay, maybe its a little of both. but those working together have led me to some of the most amazing, inspiring people on this planet. and i am thankful every day for them. in fact, im thinking its time to remind them how wonderful they are. so i'll sign off for now, and go write a couple of overdue emails of thanks. till next time...

"Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you."