Lily's Random Diversions...

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2008-01-12T19:43:00.001-08:00

First Snow Fell on 12/1/2007

2007-12-01T15:24:00.000-08:00

One layer after another, fluffy snow is gently wrapping up everything in a white coat. Silently yet assertively. It came upon us after a month of surprisingly nice November weather. It somehow adds a certain wintry authenticity to the holiday season.

Yesterday we went to CMA's Xmas party at Emily's house on Capital Hill. We arrived there from La Spiga with a full belly - that might have been a strategic mistake. The food at La Spiga was delicious; we had a few Northern Italian dishes there.

There was a lot of food, a lot of people and we had a lot of fun. Most of the people are in the shipping and logistics business.

Tie Guan Yin - Black Tea or Green Tea? Neither!!!

2007-11-29T17:52:00.000-08:00

Opened a new can of Tie Guan Yin tea at work today. My cube neighbor, SS, turned to me for expert opinon, and asked what kind of tea that is. “Is it black tea or green tea?” I was caught off guard. Gee, I should know the answer considering that I’m from a country known for its tea! I quickly researched on the Internet a bit, and realized that it’s actually a premium variety of Oolong tea, supposedly the best kind in the Oolong tea family. So, I went ahead and assumed that it’s a black tea, since Oolong tea is known as a kind of black tea here in the States.

Unsatisfied with this level of understanding of tea, I surfed around a bit more later to learn about categories of tea. It turns out that there are many ways of categorizing tea. But in general, one can really divide them into three categories based on the level/use of fermentation in the process of making teas:
1. Fermented tea (Black tea falls in this category; Yellow Tea, e.g. Yingzhen Tea, also belongs to this category.)
2. Half-fermented tea (Oolong [Tie Guan Yin], Pu'er)
3. Un-fermented tea (Green tea such as Longjin)

Back to Tie Guan Yin tea, it was originally grown in An Xi county, Fujian province. Now it has thrived in Taiwan. Multiple websites claim that Tie Guan Yin tea has magic healing power: it can help lose weight; it can help cure Diabeties; it helps prevent one from getting cancer; it can even help prevent one from getting cavities! Next time, when I drink my cup of Tie Guan Yin, I’d have to be mindful of its potent effects on me. Maybe it’ll taste even better just envisioning these benefits!

Back to doodling on my space :)

2007-11-29T17:47:00.000-08:00

The holiday season is around the corner again. This is when I can tangibly feel the weight of the cliché – “Time Flys.” I have not written anything on my blog for months. There is a huge gap between the Summer and the Winter, as if I have not lived those days. Being busy justifies my being lazy.

We’ll be on the road again in two weeks. I want to warm up my writing muscles for keeping travel journals. So, here I’m back on my space foraging through my latest random diversions.

Southern Oregon Coast Trip (6/29-7/1)

2007-07-04T17:53:00.000-07:00

(6/29/07, Friday)
This trip was meant to be a surprise trip. But with the way my mind works, I'm in the habit of chipping away the suspense built around a surprise. Too much of a planner, or rather a spoiler at times. I "eavesdropped" on one of M's phone conversations with a friend of his and had an idea of where we might be going this weekend.

Submitted my PTO form on Friday, and left the office around 2pmish and joined M on a "surprise" trip. We used an airticket coupon from the Alaska trip that we cancelled and redeemed the other ticket with 20,000 miles.

An old and small airplane crammed everyone in. The windows had no shutters. The sun was shining brightly on the tarmac. One of the flight attendants was very bubbly and trying to be funny with the annoucements that she was making. It was a fast ride - 50 minutes later - we landed in Eugene.

Picked up a car at Avis, then off we were on the road. HW126 took us through a string of small towns, marshes and valleys. The road stretches out in front of us like a green tunnel once the road started traversing hillsides. As we were soaking in the tranquil and pristine scenes, suddently yet nonchanantly, a big black fluffy ball leaped out of the woods from the right side of the road, it took us a couple seconds to realize that it was a BEAR! We almost hit that guy! Yet, he strolled across the road without a glimpse of the excitement that we had over spotting him crossing the road. This is the first time I saw a bear in the wild.

We stopped at Florence, a city founded in 1893, to stretch our legs. Strolled around the Old Town area, which is lined with boutiques and eateries, then stopped at a little pocket garden where we had a good view of the 1936 Siuslaw Bridge, which is one of the city's landmark structures. Bridges from that era seem to be more soulful, unlike modern day viaducts - souless structures built with steel and concrete. What a drag compared to these older bridges! They shine through times with form, color, and grace.

Then, we turned South soon after Florence and drove on 101 through Reedsport, North Bend, Coosbay, Charleston and finally pulled into Bandon around 8pm. It was still bright outside. A big arch that says "Welcome to Bandon Old Town" was beaming under sunset clouds. Then, M's faced grimaced, "Shit, the cop is after us." Describing the rest of the encounter with this old police patrol guy annoys me. Basically, we were given a speeding ticket for driving at 49mph in 30mph zone. An outrageous fine of $140!!! We forgot that we were in Oregon, a state famous for giving our speeding tickets. And it took him 20 mintues to write up a ticket - that's the worst part! Maybe the blackbear was a sign - he was trying to warn us of these predatory cops waiting to prey on out-of-towners!

We found our hotel and checked in. The room is situated on a bluff directly facing the roaring ocean and an expansive beach. WOW. We are in Bandon, a small seaside town on the southside of the mouth of Coquille River. Population 3000.

That dreadful episode with the mean cop augmented our hunger. Got a couple of recommendations from the hotel guy for where to eat. Decided on Lord Bennett Grille & Louge, which has windows facing the ocean side. Unfortunately, they stopped serving food at 9pm. Drooling over a dessert cart, we ordered a Marionberry Pie and a Flan. Still hungry. Then, we went to El Jalapeno, a Mexican joint and picked up a Burrito and a Quesadilla.
*********

(6/30/07, Saturday)
The sandy beach, the whispering waves, the morning breeze and the blue sky lured us our of bed early. We headed down a path to the beach. Facing the ocean, I could smell Freedom in the air. The beach streches miles and miles in both directions. The urge to run, chase, dance and embrace is so real and natural. There were only a few people and a few happy dogs on the beach. Looking closely, there are also colorful seastars, sea anemone and other marine creatures and plants clinging onto rocks and hidden in the sand. There are different rocks, big and small, scattered near the beach. We walked around seastacks and rocks exploring marine life and admired these rocks with names like "Fish Rock," "Face Rock," "Elephant Rock," and "Cat Rock." The "Fish Rock" has big crevasses/holes that you can walk through from one end to another.

Stopped at Bandon's Visitor Center. Tried every sample of what Cranberry Sweets shop offered - at least 20 different kinds of mostly cranberry-based sweets. And it is the best place to try cranberry sweets, because Bandon is the capital of cranberry producton in Oregon. Then, we stopped at Brewed Awakening, a cafe, and had two English muffin sandwiches. Now we were ready to explore this area.

Stopped at an Animal Shelter tucked away next to a gravel road on the slope of a hill. Dogs were barking and whining. M suggested we take a dog for a quick walk. There wasn't really a trail, but we improvised and walked one of the dogs for about 10 minutes. She was in heaven compared to those dogs in cages.

Coos Bay (Art Museum [Profontaine's Room], Coos Bay Boardwalk)>> Shore Acres Park >> Laos-Thai Restaurant in Charleston >> South Slough (loop hike) >> Bandon

We had the best Pak Kee Meu in a small Laos-Thai Restaurant. It reminded me of Xinjiang Banmian!
******************
7/1/07, Sunday

We walked on the beach and explored tide pools again in the following morning. Checked out of the hotel at 11am. Stuffed our stomach with a yummy shrimp and seafood sandwich at Tony's Crab Shack in Bandon's Old Town next to a fishing pier, then we poked our heads into crabbers and fishing enthusiasts' buckets to admire their catch, big or small, and watched how a few seagulls were fiercely fighting over a piece of fish...

We hit the road again. Stopped at North Bend's Visitors Center. Our first stop was Umpqua National Park, where the West Coast's tallest sand dunes are. ATVs and dune buggies are zooming around like swarms of loud flies - the noise can be heard from far away. Too short on time, we'd have to leave this for the next trip.

Next to the sand dunes, there is a lake, Maria Lake. We did a hike around the lake. Amazing in such a small stretch of land, there is ocean, beach, sand dunes, forests, lakes, rivers, all within the vicinity of each other. Currently, the sand dunes have been contained by beachgrass introduced from Europe from long ago and plants are growing on the edges of sand dunes. They have stopped moving eastward inland. Quite a combo of terrain and contrast!

We drove back to Eugene on Route 38, another scenic road, and stopped at a Butterfly Pavilion near Elkton. Monarch butterflies pass through here on their way to Canada or Mexico. This little place near a valley helps educate people on butterfly and preserve their hatching environment. The Pavilion has a beautiful garden attached to it. These butterflies must be very happy to go through their metamorphosis in such a beautiful and friendly environment.

The rest of drive to Eugene was no fuss. We drove into the city to get a quick look at this college town. Green, clean and quiet - school is off now. Had dinner at Wings, a restaurant at the airport. Our weekend trip came to an end when the airplane landed in Seattle, our home city surrounded by mountains and bodies of water. Looking down at Seattle from the airplane windows always reminds me what a beautiful part of the world we live in, with majestic and pristine nature at our doorsteps.

movie

2007-06-27T22:15:00.000-07:00

Savannah, Bobanah

2007-06-19T18:55:00.000-07:00

6/3/07-6/6/07 Savannah Trip

Two weeks ago (5/25-27), I had just returned from the East Coast, and hadn't yet recovered from the long flights, one of which was a red-eye. Now I was flying out to the East Coast again, this time, for a conference in Savannah, a town famed for its "Southern charm and hospitality."

As part of my trip preparation, M checked out a book by John Berendt and a movie based on that book. That book is called "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil," later I learned that this is also referred to by the locals as "the Book." The book was based on a real story that took place in Savannah; and the movie came out in 1997. Clint Eastwood was the director. It has a strong cast with Kevin Spacy, John Cusack and Jude Law. Jude Law was still a young boy in that movie. It wasn't an earth-shattering movie, but I can see why it is being touted as "the Book" in Savannah.

The movie did give me a good sliver of what Savannah is like. Some scenes were shot in the famous Forsyth Park. The architecture - distinctive brown stone and red brick houses - added extra allure to the movie.

To allow myself some time to walk around this city, I flew in on a red-eye via Atlanta and arrived at the Savannah-Hilton Head Airport around 10:30am. Dark clouds were hanging low above tree line. It was muggy, yet not too hot. A lady taxi driver picked me up. I tried to strike up a conversation with her, but my first attempt in getting a taste of "Southern hospitality" met with a shield of ice - she was more into her super-sized Coke and pungent cigarette hanging off the corner of her mouth than me, an out-of-towner. Worse than that, she charged me an extra $4 for calling in to charge my credit card.

I was anxious to check in at the Hyatt Regency Hotel so that I could take a nap. Again, neither "southern hospitality," nor Hyatt standards were given. My room was not ready, and I had to camp out on a couch in the lobby...Called SK, my colleague who came here ahead of me.

We did a loop around the historic district looking for a place to have lunch and taking in some city sights and sounds. It's Sunday. People seemed to have all disappeared into churches. The sun came out dancing through leaves and Cathedral spires. The Spanish moss hanging low off trees reminded me that I was not in the Pacific Northwest. We walked past many monuments and squares, pausing to take photos. Soon, we had an impressive collection of monuments. They look so distant and somber. It makes me feel this city is still living in the past and actually cashing in on its past by bringing tourists to its historical landmarks.

The architecture in the historic district, as promised in guidebooks and movies, is outstanding. Newly renovated old buildings, block after block, evoke a sense of a lost era, with style and quality; even some dilapidated houses still carry time-honored charm and grace.

Forsyth Park, the signature park of Savannah, stretches out grand and quietly in front of us. Several tourists were taking their best of shots of the Park Fountain from every possible angle. The park was quite empty. We hoped to run into a good restaurant. But "Closed" signs were everywhere. After asking around, we finally walked back towards an area closer to our hotel and ate at a cafe. It turned out to be a good choice - pleasant food and sweet tea! The sweat tea is basically sweetened lemon tea, and has become a local specialty very popular among tourists too. We ordered sweet tea for every meal we had there.

On the way back to the hotel passing through the City Market, it seemed that most of the people, local or tourists, had come here. There were people everywhere in a stretch of about 2-3 blocks, there was music, stores crammed with artifacts etc. It's a bit like Seattle's Pike Place Market without fish and fresh produce.

Another attraction is Riverfront Street. It is lined with restaurants, candy shops, ice cream parlors and souvenir shops. Very touristy! Imagine in the 18th and 19th century, this street was basically a row of warehouses waiting to send cotton to domestic and overseas markets! We walked up and down the Street a couple times and realized that the city, or rather the historic district, is really small.

Monday and Tuesday were spent mostly indoors at the World Trade Conference Center. The Belles Water taxi took us to the other side of the river for the Conference. Wednesday was spent on the road getting from Savannah to Seattle via Cincinnati.

The "southern hospitality" might be just an urban legend or Tourism Bureau's campaign message. But Riverfront Street, the multiple squares and monuments, the City Market and Forsyth Park, beautiful architecture and chunks of Spanish moss swinging in the breeze are all real and unique to Savannah, a Southern jewel.

Memorial Day in Memory of Mom

2007-05-27T17:05:00.000-07:00

The Memorial Day on the last Monday of May, a federal holiday, makes a nice long weekend. It, in many ways, symbolizes the beginning of the long-awaited summer here in this part of the US. This is when you hope for good weather; this is when many families will hit the road and camp grounds (skyrocketing gas price - $3.30 per gallon - won't even deter them from going); this is also when you will involuntarily breathe in air filled with BBQ smell. Of course, on the radio or TV, you'd hear or tune into shows in rememberance of those who died in military service - the real reason for having a day dedicated to this purpose.

This year, for me, the word "memorial" means something different. We cancelled our trip to Alaska, we didn't fire up our grill. I'm taking some time off to catch up on old memories with my mom who just passed away over a month ago. This has became a special weekend in memory of her.

I've taken a long break from this blog. Sometimes silence is a heightened sense of grief; sometimes silence is just the result of the dizzying pace of the modern-day life that we choose to live and not question. It's more of a senseless blur than blissful serenity that I wish I could wrap myself in.

After coming back from Mom's funeral, I went to Vancouver for a conference, then the following week, flew to Boston on a red-eye flight for a weekend in Provincetown on Cape Cod. Being on the road a lot left little room and time for grieving. Or maybe I'm just afraid of taking on the weight of grief and loss accumulating inside me.

I thought about quitting this blog completely and returning to the good old pen-paper type of journalling. But for what? I don't have a compelling reason to do that. So, I'm back to this cyber-space rambling along as my diversions occur, be they seldom or random.

May Mom lie in peace and love...

Rewind, Unwind and Ramble along

2007-04-07T10:03:00.000-07:00

Two weeks of go, go, go
Now is time to rewind and unwind

My upper chest and left arm still suffer from stinging pain
as a result of shingles
unfortunately, not the kind one puts on the roof.
My mind is scanning for moments from last week
that left imprints on the trail I trotted along
as if I'm trying to pick the fruits
dangling from the tree of memory...

(Sunday, March 25th)
We walked from table to table savoring vegetarians/vegans' imagination at the VegeFest. Tofu turned out to be the key ingredient for anything that attempts to imitate the meat flavor. Why do we have to have vegetarian sausages/hot dogs - vegetarian food names tinted with meat flavor? Don't vegetarians/vegans pride themselves on their purity and their principle of "no-kill?" Yet, they can't seem to stay away from the meat lovers' lingo. Then, there was a table displaying caviar made from seaweed. Quite a creation - I have to say - the shape, the color, even the taste. It was sold as vegetarian caviART. Again, this naming strategy resembles that of the "vegetarian hot dog." Maybe it is just a way to lure meat lovers away into the vegetarian/vegan utopia and give them an alternative of loving "meat" without killing the beast. We walked away with a bag full of "freebies" at the expense of us spending $20 on becoming a member of the Washington State Vegetarian Association.

With all kinds of VegeFest samples still lingering in the stomach, we found ourselves in the buffet line at the Il Fornio for the Jewish Film Festival Closing Night Gala. There was a long line curving along the buffet table with multiple arms reaching into different beautifully displayed plates. The inviting smell filled the air, recharged our appetite and expanded our stomach for more food. We jumped the line thanks to H&G who were at the front end of the line. We ate, chatted, and drank. Good food, good dessert, good tea and good company. Then, we were off to the last film of the Festival, a documentary about a photographer whose passion is documenting the terrorist activities, conflicts and wars in action in areas such as the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. The documentary is like the photographer himself - very intense and passion-driven. I admire someone who purses passion so exuberantly. It's a blessing to know what exactly you want to do in your life.

Another week went by. The details escaped me without visible traces.

Last Saturday, we had friends (T & J) and family over for dinner. It's fun to sit around a table of food and chat.

Sunday, we drove over to Ballard to see about renting a Tuxedo for a Black Tie event that we will be going in May. After a quick peek around the Tuxedo shop, we strolled down the Ballard ave and explored shops that I have never been to before. There was so much creativity seeping through the doors of these shops/boutiques: furniture made of bamboo, bags made of recycled materials, vintage furniture, green engineered floors etc...The whole street is brimming with entrepreneurs spirits.

This week, the Baseball Season started. I know what that means for me. M will be in his halo zone with his eyes/ears wide open for anything that's Angels-related. I will feel compelled to send some good mojo to his team and mimic the commentator say "Just another Halo victory!" So, Monday he went to the first game of this season while I planted some ground-cover plants next to our sidewalk.

The days are really getting longer. I love biking while it's bright outside. And yesterday (Friday, 4/6) we had another weather-related record, 78 degrees! Many people had their summer outfits on - miniskirts, shorts and sandals. I was still wrapped in my cardigan and didn't feel the heat at all. Guess what - today we are back in the 50s! Ah, or ghurr, Seattle's unpredictable weather!

Chris Kennedy Lawford - Actor, Author and Advocate

2007-03-28T22:00:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday (3/22/07), M's organization put together a community forum on Hepatitis C sponsored by Roche. The featured speaker was Chris Kennedy Lawford, who is the son of actor, Peter Lawford, and nephew of J. F. Kennedy -quite a mix of celebrity blood on both sides.

After work, I strolled over to Bell Harbor where the Forum was being held. I noticed that a few people were circling him talking. I didn't expect much beyond a brief introduction. As I was just wondering when and how to go over and introduce myself, he asked me first, "Are you with Roche?" That served as a good ice-breaker. The next thing I knew was that we sat down at a table and chatted for a good while until the Forum officially started. I was telling him about China, he was telling me about his experience in Cuba. He also told me his ex-wife is half-Asian and half-Swedish. He is very charming and down-to-earth; one can definitely sense the star quality in him.

He was asked to speak about his struggle with addictions and his victory over alcohol and drugs; now he's been clean for almost 20 years. In fact, he just wrote a book "Symptoms of Withdrawl." The book is a memoir with a focus on recounting his journey from becoming an addict to overcoming addictions with determination and honesty.

He's been in a number of movies, one of which I've seen before, "Thirteen Days." Now that I've met him in person, I feel the need to watch that movie again. In fact, I only vaguely remember that the movie is about the Cuban Missile Crisis, but I have no memories of other details.

Surely, born into a well-known family, the privileges are numerous. He talked about growing up with family friends like Marilyn Monroe and Frank Sinatra, and later, Arnold Schwarzenegger, among other personalities. On the other hand, it's also encouraging to see him taking on the role of an advocate and putting the power of his name to a good cause, that is, to educate people and help addicts to overcome addiction.

Chillingly "Thrill Me"

2007-03-24T23:37:00.000-07:00

This past Wednesday we went to Arts West, a small theatre in our neighborhood, and saw a musical drama called "Thrill Me, the Leopold and Loeb Story." It's a chilling story based on a real event that was later referred to as "the crime of the century" in the US.

There were only two actors, one played Leopold and another Loeb. The story was told, or rather sang, from Leopold's point of view. The monologues and dialogues reflect the director's imagination and ingenuity, especcially the claim that Leopold intentionaly left his glasses at the crime scene. What exactly was the two young men's thought process behind the killing of a young boy of 14? No one can know for sure. The distrubing fact is that they killed a yougn boy, actually a distant cousin of Loeb, for no apparent reason.

Supposedly, they intended to commit a "perfect crime" to prove that they are "supermen," men of superior intelligence and wisdom. The theory goes that they took that idea from Nietzsche, who wrote about the so-called "Ubermensch," or "superman." These two young men, wealthy and well-fed, misinterpreted Nietzsche's thinking. They sought to prove their ability to live beyond the laws of right and wrong, and rise above the general society, as long as they can "outsmart" the world, thus ensuring their existence as super-being "transcending" above the realms of social norms and morality.

Their heinous crime was committed in 1924 right around when Hitler became fascinated with Nietzsche's thougts, and started dreaming about an empire of a "master race" ruling over other "inferior" races. I'm no expert in Nietzsche. What's clear is that we've learnt, or observed firsthandedly, how some people, especially power-hungry politicians, can use popular philosophers' words, but interprete them in a way that fulfills their own agenda.

Intertwined with the super-man idea was the sexual tension between these two young men. It seems that Loeb was the one who was more into the "super-man" idea and seeking for thrills through crimes; Loepold got dragged into the crimes only in exchange for sex and affections from Loeb. Would Loeb be able to committ the murder on his own, by himself?

On a personal level, this musical drama warns the audience how difficult it is to raise kids, protect them from societal and familial malady, and prepare them for the unknown future in a country where the media is so fond of feeding fear to the genearl public.

Spring into Diversity

2007-03-20T16:13:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow our Diversity Team is putting together a diversity potluck event titled "Spring into Diversity."

As a member of the Diversity Team, I've gained some first-hand experience of how diversity is practiced and promoted at workplace. We have organized a couple of very interesting events. My favorite one so far is having a UW professor come and speak on the subject of immigration during lunch hour at work a few months ago. As an immigrant myself, I gained insight into how this "melting pot" really came about, and how the 'pot' functions and, how its components changed over different historical periods. Generations of immigrants have endured storms on the sea and in this melting pot. My appreciation grows each day I live here.

At work, there are many diversity events lined up this spring and summer. Today, I stumbled upon a preparation meeting meant for Asian Americans. The meeting organizer was very nice to have cooked huge pots of food enough to feed everybody around the meeting table. As we all know, free food can boost attendance.

At the table, there are Asian peoples of different descents: Vietnamese, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Filipinos, Malaysian and a few other hard-to-tell looks. I was sitting there thinking: what an interesting picture this is! Our ancestor or home countries may have had pleasant or unpleasant chapters in history; but today we are lumped together as Asians due to our looks and proximate geographic locations. And we want to share with other non-Asian groups our cultural heritages as one single group. Does this add to my sense of belonging? No. But don't we all like to group people into different categories, for better or for worse. For now, it's a good-sized manageable group with fair mount of visibility and voice in the decision process at work. And that what really matters.

We brainstormed. Most of the ideas are familiar items on a typical agenda of a Diversity Event: ethnic food, traditional costume and cultrually distinctive music. I overcame my urge to stay silent, and put in my two-cents: "Don't you think these traditional items would only reinforce the cultural stereotypes that other non-Asian people have developed over years? Maybe it's time to bring in something new and exciting to show the other side of Asians: fun-loving, creative and humorous.

My two cents met with pretty good response. Now the group has decided to do a video montage to showcase modern day Asian cultures, and demonstrate that Asian cultures have also taken on a global aura.

The cultural, racial, ethnic and religious diversity in the States is the pretty side of the reality. The ugly side is the division among diverse groups. Practising diversity without genuine integration can only lead to disasters, which have happend in many parts of the world.

But how do we really integrate?

Spring Forward (an hour and a year for me)!

2007-03-11T17:30:00.000-07:00

"Spring one hour forward!" The reminders are - in the news, on the radio, on the web - everywhere. This year, the Day Light Saving Time came three weeks earlier than last year. But spring is like a half-way open door with winter's tail still in view: The howling rainy wind reminds us not to put away winter clothes yet. Courageously, many cherry trees have bloomed in spite of the incessant rain; pinkish flower petals are one of the few visible signs of the arrival of spring. Other flowers like daffodils and tulips are trying hard to add some primary colors to the misty grey canvas. The maple trees in our backyard are still bald and bare swaying in the wind. Be spring here or not, we are springing forward for the sake of preserving energy, as so proclaimed.

Lately, the whole world seems to be giving the topic of environment and energy efficiency extra attention. The documentary "An Inconvenient Truth" won its share of glory at this year's Oscar night; President Bush just went to Latin America to buddy up with Brazil and other big sugar cane producing countries in promoting ethanol production all in the name of being environmentally friendly and energy efficient. At home in Seattle, the debate on which option to choose for replacing the aging waterfront Viaduct also put these issues in spotlight. Now we have a new Day Light Saving Time to implement and experiment also in the spirit of saving energy. Let's just hope these are not just empty talk and extra fuel for political in-fight and ulterior motives (like confectioners trying to sell more candies to kids on Halloween if the Day Light Saving Time extends to include the day of Halloween).

Ah, I wish we could turn our biological clock so arbitrarily - spring forward or rewind backward. Unfortunately, our life is not a mechanical clock. I can only embrace the addition of another year to my age with grace and zeal.

I turned 34 (or 35, depending on how one counts). Surely, I prefer 34 and wouldn't like the idea of springing forward in age. I guess celebrating birthday has been ingrained in cultures across borders. To many, it's an occasion to get together and hang out with friends and families; and the birthday person gets to indulge in being the center of attention with candles lit up and balloons floating in the air. But I didn't grow up celebrating each and every birthday at all. So, I don't expect much. Worse than that, over time, I've developed an acute sense of uneasiness, or rather paranoia, over celebrating birthday. In fact, I just want to totally forget about it, which, sometimes, does the opposite. I still haven't quite figured out the psyche behind my paranoia. On the other hand, I know what a sweet feeling it is to get a "Happy Birthday" from friends and families on the phone, in the mail or via email. They remind me that I don't need to tuck myself away in a closet getting all weired about a day that's really just another day.

After M walked in my life, my birthdays have been quite colorful and fun - surprise weekend trips here and there. Last year, we spent a weekend in a cabin with Jacuzzi at the foot of Mt. Rainier. This year, he wants to celebrate my birthday on a different day due to his tight schedule at work. But I'm equally happy spending my birthday in utterly blissful solitude: soaking in hot bathtub, flipping magazines while sipping tea and listening to the radio. It's a special retreat for myself.

I soaked in hottub for a long time, letting my thoughts drifting to my past. When mom was my age, I was already 11 years old, and we were just in the midst of moving from Xinjiang to Hunan - a turning point in our lives together. And I know this year, it's going to be another turning point for mom and me...

I have reset our clocks. But there is not a "reset' button on my past and future.

A Silent Journey to Hometown

2007-02-26T22:16:00.000-08:00

I was completely unplugged - partly self-imposed and partly due to circumstances - for about two weeks. The journey to my parents' home in Hunan was long, emotional and necessary. The actual stay in that little town where my parents live was short, only six days - but it felt much longer. Every moment was stretched tight to its limit just like the rubber bands in my mouth; I could feel every second ticking away while feeling mom's pulse pulsating loudly in my ears. I spent most of my time in silence, sitting next to mom's bed, holding her hand searching for the right words to say...

We didn't stay up until the clock turned 12 at midnight on the Chinese New Year's Eve - a tradition that we had held onto for every Spring Festival family gathering. We didn't even watch the Chunjie Wanhui. It just didn't feel right to watch a quintessential Chunjie show while mom was in bed.

Firecrackers were crackling up all over the place nonstop for the whole night on the New Year's Eve. We had no where to escape to; under heavy blankets, the crackling noise was muffled, but not shut out completely. I hate firecrackers! What's the point? Is this the essence of Chinese traditions? If all people want is a bit of festive noise, maybe there are more environmentally friendly ways of creating such noise without sending all that extra sulfur into the already polluted air. The so-called new policy allowed people to set off firecrackers for the first three days of the Lunar New Year; of course, many people jumped to the opportunity and embraced the new freedom with excessive amount of enthusiasm, as if the Fortune God is going to bless the household who set off the most amount and the loudest firecrackers. A bunch of superstitious crap!

I don't want to repaint the grim picture of seeing mom lying in bed in pain. Every touch of her body tightened my stomach pushing a knot to my throat and filling tears in my eyes. Washing her makes me realize our body is such a weak defence against human sufferings. For the first time in my life, I began to face death and understand death in a different light; it's no longer other people's stories. It's my own story; it's the body that gave birth to me.

I hope mom can achieve a peaceful mindset in the midst of all the pain and unresolved feelings which I'll have to save for the private pages of my journal.

Love. Peace. Serenity. Dignity. Grace. Magnanimity.

Selective Memory - Don't Worry, Be Happy!

2007-02-10T22:15:00.000-08:00

"What did I do in the past couple of weeks?" I asked myself, but I couldn't remember anything at first try. Then, as flashbacks started to play in my mind, it's funny to see what actually stands out in my memory: the meals I had, the errands I did like exchanging a water filter, lunches with co-workers and M at CJ's, John's Wok, Pike Place Market and Uwajumaya's food court on different days, watching "Lost" on TV and a quick excursion to the Curiosity Shop with M etc. - basically little trivial things that make up the bulk part of one's daily life. Other bigger events seem to have been pushed to the back of my head - rushing M's passport renewal and visa application, getting ready for my interview, getting ready to leave for China. Maybe I just mentally didn't want to deal with these headaches, so those somewhat stressful items were unconsciously being suppressed. Looking back, all those worries were so unnecessary - "hey, it's all good! and selective memories help too!"

Now that small details are emerging from my memory, I, however, have lost all the enthusiasm to recount what I did. I'd rather highlight every body's favorite subject - weather. The weather has been unpredictably good for almost three weeks now. The forecast was off almost everyday. Instead of rain as forecasted, we've had a pleasant weather pattern: drizzly rain or misty fog in the morning, then the sun would come out late in the morning, and the warm sun made lunch outings more pleasant too, then the glorious sunset would accompany me on my walk to M's office every day.

Here is a little sweet weather-related story that added an extra gallon of positive fuel into my life. Last Wednesday, while taking a walk during lunch hour at Myrtle Edward Park and pausing to enjoy the view of snow-capped mountains in the Olympic National Park, a guy cheerfully chatted up with me about his open heart surgery, and told me how thankful he was for not only the new pig valve he just received, but also the good weather we've been having.
"Can you believe, at age 67, they found out that I was born with a defect on my heart - 2 valves instead of 3. And that explained why I was never and could never be a good swimmer. And all throughout my youthful years, I'd been this little fat kid. Now I feel normal again. I'm going to follow Doc's suggestion and walk every day when the weather allows."

I was moved by his optimism and zeal in embracing a heart with new pig valves. He is full of life at the age of 67!

Rock-n-Rose Room Rocks! Two-Year Anniversary Getaway Weekend

2007-01-28T20:52:00.000-08:00

Since we have two wedding dates to remember - one is x/x, that's when we exchanged vows in Arradon, France; another is x/x, that's when our marriage became official in the King County Court House, I really don't know which day I should remember to celebrate. So, it's no surprise that I just totally forgot about it. M, on the other hand, surprised me with a beautiful getaway weekend at the Rock-n-Rose Room overlooking the middle fork of the Snoqualmie River on our 2nd wedding anniversary. He is an expert in giving surprises; I, on the other hand, completely lacks that skill.

Friday evening, unexpectedly, the line in front of the snowshoe rental counter at REI was too long, we went home without snowshoes. I thought our snowshoeing plan was off and lying ahead was just another lazy Saturday. Around noon, M told me to get ready for a fun trip and didn't let me in on the details.

It's a beautiful day - sunny with blue sky - perfect for any outdoor activity. We picked up snowshoes from REI, and got on I-90.

Seeing icy snow on tire tracks leading to the parking lot at the foot of Mt. Si, we hesitated. After chatting with a couple of hikers, we went ahead and parked on the snow in the parking lot.

We were planning on doing the Talapus Lake Trail, but it was hard to follow the trail; so we just randomly trekked around on a trail where there was snow and not too steep. It was refreshing and invigorating to be in the forests; snow-capped mountain tops stand high above tree lines, displaying postcard-perfect views. After 2 hours of fun in the snow, we were re-energized and ready to hit the road home - at least, I thought so.

When we drove to the little town, North Bend, M wanted to explore the back roads in that area, that's when I sensed that we were not going home. He pulled into a parking lot in a wooded area where there are a few houses and cabins. Voila! Here is the surprise - this is where we are going to be staying tonight and happy anniversary! Yes, I was surprised and happily surprised.

The couple, who run and own the B&B, are very friendly. I immediately noticed the view from their big windows. The husband took us to our room, the Rock-n-Rose Room, which has a fascinating story. It is a room right underneath the main floor of their house overlooking the Snowqualmie River. It has a huge rock, the bulk part of which is in the bedroom, a small part of which extends into the Sauna room. The original owner had tried to blast the rock, but only small pieces broke off, the rest sat firmly in one piece. And the original owner's wife was shaken off her chair, not knowing the rock was being blasted. Thank Goodness that they kept the rock in the room! Now, the rock adds a special lure to the room.

It's truly a rock-n-rose room. Besides the prominent presence of the rock and a rose garden outside the room, the room itself is filled with rose-themed objects - paintings, plates, sheets, pillows, cups, coasters, photos, books etc. - you name it. Aesthetically, this decorative style is busy to eyes and doesn't really suit my taste. But the overabundance of rose-themed items exemplify the owner's love and care for this room. It definitely serves as a good reminder to people who are staying here to be romantic.

Well, the most romantic part about this place is really the view. It overlooks the Snoqualmie River, which soothingly flows and splashes against rocks down in the riverbed. The B&B bears the name of "Roaring River," but the river really murmurs, maybe there are moments (flooding?) when the river really roars.

After resting up a bit, we went to the main strip of the town, checked out the Bad Girls Antique Store, and then sat down for a big fat dinner - 10 ounces of prime rib and a thick bacon burger - at the North Bend Bar & Grill. As if that's not enough, we grabbed a milk shake and a hot apple cider to go at the Dairy Freeze and went back to our cozy Rock-n-Rose room. Then, we watched a movie, Mona Lisa, on the small TV next to the big rock, and simmered ourselves in the sauna room for ten minutes which readied us for a good night's sleep.

The next morning, we woke up to dancing sun rays splashing through tall pine trees; there was gossamer mist hanging low above the river; the water flows and splits around rocks like melted jade.

Our breakfast came in a basket: two danishes, two quiche, two scones, OJ and strawberry jam. Yum. We had breakfast while watching "Breakfast at Tiffany."

After checking out, we hiked down to the river, where we laid on a rock and soaked in the morning sunshine and savored the beautiful views and sounds around us. We had the whole river bend all to ourselves. There was not another soul in sight. Peaceful, blissful, and we were mindful of the beauty and serenity around us.

On our way back, we stopped by the Snowqualmie Falls. We had to drive around in circles to find a parking spot. Many people were crowded next to each other on the viewing deck, and a few ventured down below.

Then, after grocery stops at the ID and TD and dropping off snowshoes at REI, we embraced the last bit of the weekend before Monday would drag us out of bed again...

Babbling about "Babel"

2007-01-28T20:49:00.000-08:00

The weather has been surprisingly nice for a whole week. It's Friday evening. The setting sun splashed different hues of orange on the ripples of Puget Sound. I walked to M's office taking my usual route along the waterfront, and turned onto Western Ave where I browsed furniture displays in windows, which has become a pleasant weekly routine for me.

The downtown traffic was crawling as always on a Friday evening. We decided to go to REI first to rent snowshoes, and only to find a dreadful long line at the rental counter. Then, we chose to leave without snowshoes to catch a movie at the Pacific Center and grab a plate of my favorite sweet potato fries at Tacone.

We watched "Babel," a movie directed by our favorite Mexican director, Alejandro Gonzales Innaritu. We had watched two other movies directed by him: "Amores Perros" and "21 Grams." It's said that these three movies complete a trilogy that Innaritu and the screenwriter, Guillermo Arriaga, set out to produce a few years ago. Among the three movies, "Babel" really stands out on many different levels: the cinematography, a plot that is cross-border and cross-cultural and a solid cast with both super stars and amateur unknown actors.

The title itself says a lot about the movie. The word "babel" means "confusion of sounds and voices." When written as "Babel" with a capitalized "b," it refers to the city (now thought to be Babylon) where the Tower of Babel was built in trying to reach Heaven; and it was said that God was offended by that and made people to speak different languages so that man can't understand each other. I'm no expert in religion. But I can see how this title is a smart choice.

The movie delivered that message very clearly - communicating across cultures, languages and gestures is no easy task. Even as a movie viewer, we are also naturally trapped in ongoing moments of "lost in translation" throughout the movie without being able to speak the respective languages firsthand.

This movie weaves in so many themes and asks so many questions all in one movie:

Life styles differ from cultural to culture; yet how much of that difference is dictated by economic conditions, how much by political conditions, how much by culture itself. It seems rich countries seem to have a somewhat similar life style. Does poverty make a country and its people dangerous? Or is it something else?

The pains and joy of growing up no matter where you are in four corners of the world (the lure of and curiosity about sex and the ethics around it...)

How do we come to terms with losing loved ones (the couple's baby, the Japanese girl's mom, and towards the end the sheep herder's son...)

Although the gun was a gift by a Japanese tourist to a local Moroccan hunter. It also raises the question: How do countries prevent weapons from spreading, or how does a country go about the issue of gun-control?

The relationship between the police - the machine of a state - and the general populace (Moroccan police, Japanese police and US border patrol.) How do the police treat people (as enemy of the state?) whom they are supposed to protect?

Our lives are so intertwined with each other, knowingly or unknowingly. Is globalization bringing us closer or sending us far apart along religious, spiritual and cultural lines?

What kind of immigration policy should the US pursue?

How can the world combat true terrorism without sacrificing civilian lives or civil liberty?

The movie ingeniously linked these themes across three different continents. After watching it, I find myself babbling from one subject to another...

NWAAFF, Asian American Film Festival Opening Night

2007-01-25T00:39:00.000-08:00

This year, the Northwest Asian American Film Festival fell between 1/24 and 1/28 from Thursday to Sunday. We went on Thursday, the opening night; and this is our second time to come to a NWAAFF event.

There was no long lines trailing outside of the Theatre Off Jackson when we got there a bit later than 7:30pm, which is the starting time stated on the schedule. Compared to the Seattle International Film Festival, understandably, this is a much smaller event, hence the smaller crowd.

The Theatre is small and cozy. It was two-thirds full by the time when we sat down. After brief opening remarks, acknowledgement of sponsors and a few lucky draws of ticket giveaways to a few performances around the town - we didn't have the lucky numbers, we were shown a collage of snippets from different films to be shown in the next few days.

It's quite a varied collection of movies by Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese and other Asian American artists. In mainstream films, Asian Americans are still a rare sight. A film festival as such gives Asian Americans an opportunity to explore what it is to be an Asian American, and to refute some of the stereotypes associated with Asian American women -obedient, secretive, dragon lady - and men - asexual, rigid, humorless.

During the break, before the audience were invited back in for CineOke, Cinema version of Karaoke, the small hallway was filled with audience who had eyes on plates laden with yummy foods donated by different restaurants and stores including Wild Ginger, Trader Joe's, to name a couple. M ran into someone he knows. We chatted with him and his wife. Later, a Chinese American guy, David, chatted up with us. He is from Philadelphia, and had been in Seattle for a few month and currently looking for a place to buy. He complained about how expensive the properties are in Seattle...

In spite of an American passport, I don't consider myself Asian American, I think I'm really a transplant that doesn't fall under that category. Watching these films give me a sense what my kids might experience in search of their own identity.

Coming out of the theatre, right around the corner, we ran into Jim, who runs a Subway store near where I work, he is the one who always gives me a free cookie whenever I buy sandwich there. What a coincidence! I haven't gone there for almost 3 months!

Laundry Listing the Weekend of Jan. 20 -21

2007-01-23T12:56:00.000-08:00

Another weekend flew by; luckily, the good weather stayed with us. It feels like springtime. I love walking to M's office with the sun setting gloriously between the Sound and the Olympic Mountains, quite a breathtaking view accompanying me on my walk along the water front. Now it's almost half way into the week, I feel like recapturing our weekend activities in a laundry list format (when and what):

Friday evening after work: We tried a new downtown restaurant, Qube. The food was good; the price was a bit high; the service was fine; the ambiance was sleek and chic, also full of youthful and metrosexual energy.

On the way home after dinner, we checked out a couple of movies from Planet Hollywood, one of which was "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," the 1975 Oscar Award movie. Quite a movie! Awesome!

Saturday:
Saturday morning, M made omelet and we read Sunday newspapers together.
Lounging around, surfing around, cleaning up around the house, time just went by.

Late in the afternoon, as a spur-of-the-moment decision, we drove to Volunteer Park for a nice walk. While we were in the park, we stopped by the Green House and admired all the beautiful plants and flowers. Then we crossed over a fallen fence between the park and a cemetery. There, we zigzagged around tomb stones, and bet on in which year the oldest tome stone was erected or laid down here. The result? Roughly the late 19th century. The view from the hilltop that is part of the cemetery was stunning - what a nice piece of land to rest one's soul! We also stumbled upon Bruce Lee's tomb, right next to his son's. In fact, there are a fair number of Asians buried here.

Popped into Daiso just when a fire alarm went off, the whole Westlake Center was being evacuated and people were looking at each other in disbelief and confusion. I didn't see the source of smoke or fire. There was no panic, just shopping crowds filing out of the building obediently following a voice coming out of a speaker up in the ceiling. Instead of waiting around, I walked to BB&B and got a faucet-mounted water filter and we drove to M's brother's house for dinner.

We ate and hung out at their house and played with 3 babies. Babies are really popping up everywhere! We left around 10pm for another event, the 3rd Annual Weird Genius Science Fair, which happens to be in the newly renovated Youngstown Cultural Arts Center right in our neck of woods, West Seattle. Mostly young people - freaks, geeks and yuppies, people of all types - were there. There was the biggest baking soda volcano demonstration, artificial snow, the world viewed from insects' eyes (you actually were required to put on a pair of wings and some sort of headgear with contraptions that would allow you see the world in their way), thermal reactive TV screen etc. I'm not a science enthusiast, but it was fun watching them churning some fun out of science.

Sunday:
Late in the morning, I cooked a crustless Quiche with soy milk. It turned out well. A bit sweet - something that I didn't expect to taste - little wonder that I used VANILLA soymilk!

Afternoon-Evening: We spent the whole afternoon and evening working on a home improvement project - about 5 hours to transport rocks from our neighbour's front yard to our yard and align them along the sidewalk next to our front lawn so that the soil and plants won't overgrow onto the sidewalk. We thought it'd take us 2 hours. It turned out to be a much bigger project. Transporting those heavy and bulky rocks was the most time-consuming part; of course, arguing over which rocks goes in where was also exhausting:) But, we got it down without throwing shovels at each other. Alas.

We ended a productive weekend with the movie, La Petite Jerusalem.

Watching "China from the Inside" from the Outside

2007-01-18T19:25:00.000-08:00

Yesterday night, we finished watching all 4 episodes of the PBS show entitled "China from the Inside." It was an emotional ride; I was sad, mad, disappointed and hopeful.

I was especially disturbed by the environmental disasters - the polluted water, air, soil - prevalent in China; these are also the basic elements for sustaining human life, be you rich or poor. The images in the show are heart-wrenching. A village, now known as the "cancer village", has many sickly people lacking basic medical care and having no way of getting compensated for what have caused their cancer - deadly cancer-inducing pollutants in the river where they draw their drinking water. That makes me wonder, not for the first time, that the polluted water and air probably are the key culprits for my mother's cancer too. Obviously, she is not alone in this case. It pains me. It angers me.

On a positive note, the program interviewed activists, journalists and professors who are deeply concerned about these issues and passionate about making changes. I truly admire their courage, altruism and perseverance for taking real actions: exposing scandals, cleaning up rivers, planting trees, spreading "green" messages. Someday, I hope I have the guts to face the perils and contribute my share to make China a greener and cleaner place.

I took a stroll to PBS's forum on this show. There are insightful discussions on different subjects - assigning blames, searching for solutions, debating on the fate of Tibet, the future of China - all good food for thought.

I hope the Chinese in China will get to see this documentary too...

Maps: Tracing Our Recent Road Trip from Merida to Belize

2007-01-17T18:57:00.000-08:00

I've meant to map out the route that we took on our recent road trip from Merida, Mexico to Belize. After looking around online, I finally found a website that has world maps available for free. So, I decided to give it a shot, and below are maps that trace the route that we took:

Map 1: Mexico and Central America

Map 2: Yucatuan Penusinla, Belize, Guatemala and Nicaruagua

Map 3: Actual Road Trip Route (Yellow & Brown Line) and Flight Route (Pine Line)

Blog for U, or for Myself? - That Is A Question!

2007-01-17T11:28:00.000-08:00

Today, I ran across an article that caught my attention, because it used the phenomenon of mass blogging as a main example to support the argument. After reading it, I felt compelled to point out a fallacy.

Below is an excerpt from the article entitled "Economics of Here to There" by Jefferey Tucker, in which, he used 'blogging' as a primary example to illustrate his point:

"Thanks to the advent of mass blogging, many more people are acquainted with this issue than ever before. Let's say you take what is for most people a big and exciting step of creating a blog. There are so many sites now that make it easy. You sign up, you fiddle around with the look and feel, you add links, and the all-important "about me" page. You are ready to go.

You write your first post, thoughts you find funny, profound, insightful, or otherwise compelling in some way. Submit. And voila! You are published in a medium that is accessible to the entire world. Who can believe it?

The thrill doesn't last long because you suddenly realize something that had not yet presented itself. Only your family is reading this. Maybe. It's true that anyone in the world can access it but why should anyone want to? How are people even going to find out about it? How can you be sure that people are going to come back again and again?

This is a striking problem mainly because it is something that hadn't actually occurred to you before. You created a beautiful product. You could create a profound post. But you must then persuade people to read it.

You might have read somewhere that the key to blogging is to do it often. So you blog and blog. You post 3 times, or even ten times, per day. You keep this up for weeks, even months. Exhausted, you check your stats. They show no increase in readership. Still, only your family is reading — or at least they claim to be reading.

You then turn to other means. You link, you beg for links, you turn on track backs. You try boosting your search-engine ranking. Finally, you take the step: you buy a spot on Google ads. Then things begin to happen. And then you marvel at how much time you have spent on this project. It seems that you have spent 10 times as much time promoting than you ever spent writing your blog. And yet what is the point of writing if you have no readers?

In this way, average people are beginning to see the great hidden cost of capitalist production: getting from here to there. And take note that with blogging, the problem of distribution is already solved. The final product is delivered via a click."

The author is trying to make a point about how the cost of promoting and marketing a product is far greater than the cost of actually producing it - a point that's well argued and I don't disagree - except that I don't think "blogging" is a good example.

Is the content of blogging a product? It varies from case to case - some blog sites are, some are not. I don't think there is a consensus out there among bloggers. The author's assumption that blogging is a business activity that churns about products does NOT fly, and is misleading. Blogging can't be equated to selling things on ebay. It's not necessarily a commercial activity; in fact, it's probably more spiritual - searching for a virtual community and sharing fun stories with friends & family members - than commercial.

I started blogging, because I like what I can do with it. Surely, I could also keep a journal on my own computer in MS Word. But I wouldn't be able to have access to it whenever I want. I blog, first and foremost, for myself. If there is no traffic on my site at all, I won't be disappointed or discouraged to continue with my random babbling.

The reasons that I prefer blogging over the traditional way of keeping a journal:
1. It looks prettier than a plain word document stored away on my computer.
2. I tend to be more disciplined (spelling, punctuation and grammar) and, occasionally, more creative when I know there might be a pair of invisible eyes glancing through. And, for the same reason, I don't blog about things of utmost private nature.
3. I like the idea that other people can access it and comment on it if they choose too. If not, I'm equally jovial - because I treat it as a hobby.
4. I can access it whenever I want - on my couch or in an Internet cafe far away from home.
5. It's a place where I can store my favorite links without having to pull down the "bookmark" function on my web browser.
6. Ultimately, it creates a space that's controllable, accessible and interactive.

Replacing a Kitchen Faucet - A Stubborn Screw and A Stubborn Crew

2007-01-15T16:09:00.000-08:00

It's Monday, also the MLK day that makes up a nice long weekend. I had a whole day ahead of me and a long list of things-to-do, one of which is replacing a kitchen faucet set.

I allotted a couple of hours for replacing the old faucet in our kitchen sink. But, in reality, I started the project at 10:30am and finally decided to stop at 2:30pm - that's 4 hours! As it turned out, replacing a kitchen faucet can be extremely time-consuming.

Installing the faucet set is fairly easy and straightforward. The diagram is simple enough. There are three major pieces: the faucet, the level and the spray. The key is connecting hot and cold water pipes with the right hoses. The hardest part is fastening the three different pieces onto the sink due to the tight spaces under the sink. I noticed the improvements made on the newer model. But to install the new set, I needed to remove the old set. And that's where I got stuck - I spent hours trying to remove an old rusty screw below the faucet under the sink!

I lied down under the sink like a car mechanic under the belly of a car holding a flash light while trying to screw off a stubborn screw that's way more stubborn than me. Residue water was spraying and dripping all over my face and arms; little rusty bits were falling off the back side of the sink into my eyes. I tried different wrenches in different poses until my hands and my neck were sore. The skin on my fingers were completely chapped... And the screw just wouldn't budge. I let out a few subdued screams.

I've always enjoyed studying a diagram and putting things together. I've worked on many other home repair and improvement projects - putting together furniture, installing closet racks and shelves, hooking up speakers with stereo - and I never gave up in the middle of a project! But now I'm stuck on this screw. Obviously, I don't have the right tools!

Finally, I was able to drag myself out of my determination of finishing the project. What a triumph! I breathed deeply and realized that I don't have to finish it right now. I can come back to it when I have the right tools.

Now sitting in front of computer as I typed away, I felt calmer and a sense of freedom too. Let's wait until I have the right tools. Patience is a hard-learned virtue that can go a long way!

Long Weekend Is Always Too Short

2007-01-15T14:49:00.000-08:00

Over this long weekend (MLK day), the weather has been surprisingly good - blue sky with steaks of white clouds, crispy air; it's cold, but pleasantly cold - no wind, very calm. Snow on major roads has mostly melted; but rooftops and tree branches are still covered with snow - adding a silver lining to the city. Mountains in the distance are glowing under the sun.

On Friday night, M and his friend, R (visiting from LA), went to a basketball game. I curled up on the couch sipping hot chocolate and reading, then fell asleep at an unknown time. I love a quiet night like this: no TV, no noise, just Birdie (our cat) in my lap and a magazine in hand. I had a full evening's solitude all to myself.

The next morning (Saturday) M cooked omelet, I cut up some fruits, we had a pleasant breakfast with R; then they watched college basketball game (UCLA vs. USC) on TV, and I went about my own business.

In the afternoon, we ventured out to a new contemporary art space called "Western Bridge," which used to be a warehouse in the SoDo industrial district. Now on exhibition are works that use non-traditional media or methods - broken light bulbs, tins and cans hanging from ceiling, music collages from different movies. There are also a bedroom and a kitchen integrated into the space.

After a good dose of culture, we went to M's brother's place for a good dose of food and family fun. The night ended with us watching "V for Vendetta" on our big screen TV (and M fell alseep on that:-).

After dropping R off at the airport on Sunday morning, we went straight to F's house for the big NFL Playoff pajama party. We could feel a sense of excitement in the air - the Seahawks is in the Playoff again, a step closer to the championship which they've never obtained. We heard a round of loud roaring noise coming out of F's house right before we opened the door - the Seahawks and the Bears just tied up!

There were about 20 people with their eyes all glued to the TV screen. Breakfast foods, fruits and snacks of all kinds were laid out on tables. I'm not a sports fan; yet the enthusiasm was contagious. Unfortunately, the Seahawks lost out in the overtime - it's a close game. After the game, one group jumped into their big hot tub in the backyard, another group started poker game. We didn't join either - left with a quiche that F made and headed for TJ's and the ID grocery store.

Later that afternoon, M made Chili loaded with fresh ingredients and garlic; and it simmered on the stove for a long time as the night pulled in around us.

Second Week of Sun-filled Vacation (Sat, 12/30/06 - Fri, 1/5/07)

2007-01-09T21:33:00.000-08:00

Now we are back in Seattle expecting another round of high winds and snowstorm. Looking back, the 2nd week of our vacation slipped away extremely fast considering we really didn't do a whole lot. But then again, what accounts as "doing things?" We slept alot. We ate a lot. We laughed a lot. We hung out with family and friends a lot. We walked around the Plaza Principal a lot. We also kept the fan on a lot to keep the mosquitos away. I guess we did do a lot; more importanly, we enjoyed every minute of it.

M's brother, his wife and their two babies also joined us at Casa Contenta on the last day of 2006 - a big family reunion outside of the U.S.! We walked to the city center to see the New Year's fireworks and embraced 2007 like an old friend - no boisterous cheering or clinking wineglasses around. The next day (Monday) the whole family had the 1st lunch of 2007 at Hyatt.

On Tuesday morning, we went shopping for foods and ingredients for Thursday's dinner party at Casa Contenta, and I was the appointed chef. That afternoon, we went to see a bullfight, the first ever for me (more on that in a separate entry). On Wednesday, I and M's sister stayed at home chilling and preparing for the next day's big dinner, while the other half of the visting fam did a day trip to cenotes (sink holes) near Merida.
On Thursdsay, with help from Blanquita and M's sister, I cooked 9 different dishes and really put my cooking and prepping skills to test. The dishes came out well; I thought that the flavor was good and I need to work on display and color. Fortunately, there was no picky eater at the table; everybody was very generous in giving compliments.

On Friday, M's sister left early in the morning. In the afternoon, the rest of us went to Dzibilchaltun and visited a Mayan ruin (more on that later) there.

The next day we started our journey back home around noon, hopped on our connecting flight in Atlanta, and by 11pm, we were finally back home breathing the familiar, crispy, clean and fresh Seattle air again under gathering stormy clouds.

Big Plate Chicken (Da4 Pan2 ji1) Recipe Revisited (大盘鸡的做法)

2007-01-07T19:49:00.000-08:00

It was such a pleasure to get a request from a reader who wants to know the recipe for Da Pan ji (Big Plate Chicken), a traditional and very popular Xinjiang dish in China. I thought it would be a good idea to post the recipe here:

Main Ingredients and Prep Work:

-a whole chicken (You can have the butcher to chop it up into mouth-manageable pieces for you. I would't want to chop up a whole chicken again, because I really didn't enjoy doing that - it gives me creeps as if I was killing it! In the States, it's hard to find a freshly killed chicken; and Americans don't like bones! Chinese tend to love bones, because they add extra flavor and fun to eating, so keep the bones if you can - imagine ribs without bones, it wouldn't taste the same!)

-3 or 4 potatoes (First, peel potatoes; then, chop them into big cubes; then soak them in cold water to get rid of the starchiness.)

-1 red pepper and 1 green pepper (If you like the dish spicier like I do, I recommend adding jalapeño pepper and habañero pepper - dried habañero peppers will do too - which will add both color and spiciness.)

-a handful of Sichuan pepper (If it's hard to find Sichuan pepper, black pepper corns would do too, although when frying blackpepper corns in hot oil, they may crackle - watch out for hot oil!)

-fresh ginger (sliced), green onion (2 or 3, chopped), garlic (2 cloves, minced)

-star anise (3 or 4 for enhancing flavor)

Steps for Making the Dish:

1. Marinate chicken pieces in light soy sauce, salt, cooking wine and a dash of ground black pepper and sugar for 15 to 20 minutes.

2. Pour some oil (I cook almost everything with olive oil) into a wok or deep cooking pan, wait until it's hot, then throw in Sichuan pepper corns.

3. Take out Sichuan pepper corn bits and pieces with a drainer. Then, put a spoon of sugar (for coloring the chicken pieces) in the oil, wait until the sugar starts to turn brown, then put marinated chicken cubes/pieces in, followed by ginger, garlic and green onion. Stir.

4. Add soy sauce and water (enough to barely cover chicken cubes)

5. Add salt, star anise and cooking wine (don't add too much salt, remember you can always add a bit more at the end when the taste test requires more.)

6. Cover the pot and let it simmer for 15 or 20 minutes depending on the amount of chicken meat until the chicken pieces are cooked through.

7. Add potato cubes and let the pot simmer again for about 5 or 10 mintues until the potatoes are cooked. (If simmered for too long, the potato cubes may get very starchy and lose shape, then the dish will lose clarity. I almost prefer using microwave for heating up the potato cubes and then throw them in the pot and stir/mix at the last minute - a trick that I recently learned from Ronnie while vacationing in Merida.)

8. Add green and red peppers, stir for a few minutes.

9. It's ready for the big plate that you have!

Last time when I made the dish, I didn't make the wide noodles that usually go with the dish; instead, I bought a packet of wide noodles from China Town. Cook noodels in a seperate pot, then mix noodles with the Big Plate Chicken dish (similar to eating Pasta).

So Many Chinese in Belize!

2007-01-07T19:43:00.000-08:00

I feel that this topic deserves a separate blog entry for a couple of reasons: 1. Many Chinese (and many other nationals) don't even know where Belize is on the map. 2. I know Chinese immigrants are every where, but I didn't expect to see SO MANY Chinese in a country like Belize. Historically, China and Belize had very little connections. Unlike the official relationships that China had sought after during the 50s and 60s with Africa, there seems to be a void in the official China-Belize relationship.

On a short trip of merely 4.5 days in Belize, everywhere we went, we saw Chinese. I was absolutely surprised and intrigued by this phenomenon. We made a point of talking to the Chinese we met in trying to find out how and why they ended up there.

When we drove through Corozal on our way to San Pedro, I was surprised to see many Chinese signs of restaurants and general stores in both English and Chinese in a small city like Corozal. Once we arrived in San Pedro, my surprise was taken to a different level - Why here?!

On our first day in San Pedro, we strolled around in the evening and saw a Chinese restaurant (see pic), and ventured upstairs to strike up a conversation with the restaurant owners, a couple from Guangdong. They told us that there are 81 Chinese on this tiny island alone and there is a girl from Xinjiang!

We continued our walk; soon, we ran into three Chinese, two adults with a young girl. M and I opened up the conversation with "ni hao!" After finding out the young lady is also from Xinjiang, the conversation took an interesting turn - we both wanted to find out more about each other. She made some very interesting comparisons and comments about San Pedro and Wulumuqi where she is originally from:

"This place is so shabby; it doesn't even have paved roads. It doesn't have high rise buildings. Wulumuqi is so much more advanced than this place!"
"When I first came here, I wanted to leave immediately. But, since my brother and sister-in-law are here, I feel that I have to be near them. Now I'm getting used to it. But I still miss Wulumuqi; after all, that's a big city - you know that - you lived in Shanghai!"
"Before I came here, I thought this place woud be like Paris or New York with big fancy buildings! Look at this place, it has nothing - just a bunch of country bumpkins! I look down on them - they eat with their feet up on the table and have no manners at all!"
"I followed my older brother here. He didn't know that Belize was so backward. He has many friends who emigrated to Autralia; he actually meant to get a visa to go to Australia; instead, the visa agency in China took the processing fees and gave him a visa to come to Belize - a place that we had never heard of before!
"Most of the Chinese here are not very well educated. I went to college. I want to find someone who is well-educated. Let me know if you know somebody from the States."

Then, the next day when we were out walking again in the evening, right next to Rebacca's Clinic (the Xinjiang girl's massage and acupuncture business), we ran into a Taiwanese woman who was a shop assistant at a gift store. She only works on the island shop every other week. She is in Belize with her 17 year old son who is going to high school there. For her, it's all about giving her son's the best high school education to the best of their ability. Her husband owns a business in Taiwan and pays their son's education. The son did his middle school in New Zealand. Right now, she started working recently to kill time since her son spends most of his time in school now and he is old enough to take care of himself. She is thinking about sending her son to a college in the States, if possible. When they have time, they travel to neighboring countries like Mexico and Guatemala to expose her son to the world. It sounds like her son has seen a lot for a 17-year-old.

After chatting with the Taiwanese lady, we then chatted with the sister-in-law of the Xinjiang girl for a long time. She holds a different view from the more fashionable Xinjiang girl whom we talked with the day before. She has two kids, one of whom was born in Belize - something that they couldn't have done in China. She enjoys coming to the island - fresh air, beautiful scenery and peaceful. She and her husband run a similar clinic in Belize city. She also shared with us a couple of horrible crimes in Belize city. One of which is rather gruesome: a Chinese shop owner with a baby in his arm got shot in his own store, and his store got robbed; later on, he became a vegetable and had to be shipped back to China. Chinese and Indians own and run a lot of restaurants, general stores and other businesses. They often become targets of robbery and crimes.

Caye Caulker, a teeny-weeny island where I really didn't expect to see many island residents, not to mention, Chinese! Yet, there they are. Our first stop was a small general store owned by a Chinese guy who also rents out bicycles. We rented our bikes from him. Then, off we rode around. We saw a couple of Chinese restaurants. Then, at the end of the pier while waiting for our water taxi, we saw a Chinese guy sitting on the edge of the pier fishing! I chatted with him a little bit. He is here all by himself leaving his wife and a kid behind in China. He said he wanted to make and save enough money, then he would go back to China to reunite with his family - no plans of staying permanently according to him.

When we arrived in Belize city, from the car we were in, we could see Chinese-looking people on bikes, in shops or walking on the streets, it astonishes me to see so many Chinese immigrants among a city with predominantly black and mestizo population. After a while, my surprise over this really should get old; but it still strikes me as something rather peculiar. Why Belize? I didn't see as many Chinese in Mexico! I was told that the Chinese now accounts for 5% of the Belize population!

The puzzle becomes a bit clearer after we arrived in Corozal. I basically forced a conversation on a Chinese guy who was watching Hong Kong TV series on Satellite TV in the restaurant where we picked up our dinner. He was planning a trip back to China after having worked for a Chinese factory here for seven years. He complained about the long journey that he was about to make: Corozal >> Cancun, Mexico >> Amsterdam >> Beijing >> Tianjin. He wasn't particularly interested in answering my questions. But when he did answer, his answers were revealing.

To sum up, it seems that there are a few things unique to Belize that really attract Chinese immigrants:
1. Easier for Chinese to get a visa to come to Belize.
2. English is the first official language, which many Chinese have learned in school.
3. Belize is still considered a member of the British Commonwealth - their currency still has the Queen's head shot. Travelling to the UK can be made easier in the future.
4. Acquiring Belize citizenship is relatively easier compared to other countries such as the U.S. and Canada.
5. The next generation's education is the parents' top priority. Their kids can be better prepared to become global citizens with education in multiple languages.
6. Business opportunities abound (and maybe the higher artificially fixed exchange rate to US dollars helps too: 1 US$ = 2 BZ$ vs. 1 US$ = 8 RMB).

From Corozal, Belize Back to Merida, Mexico (Day 5, 12/29, Friday)

2007-01-02T15:19:00.001-08:00

We got up around 7am - early enough to make it back to Merida late in the afternoon - and headed for the border-crossing point. A few miles away from the border, we were stopped by a soldier at a checkpoint. He kept asking us for our paperwork on car insurance after we showed him the proper papers we have for the car. The tension was escalating as we talked through the window. This guy was obviously trying to scare us into bribing him. We were not going to let him have his will. Finally, he let us pass after we firmly told him many times that we have the exact papers that he was asking for. What a pain having to deal with the whims of these border patrols!

At the border-crossing point, we went through the whole process again - a stamp at one counter, then another at a different counter. We then drove to the Free Zone hoping that we would find the kind of cooking ring that R was talking about and Punta Rock CDs that Denis recommended. We were told that the Free Zone is duty free and has a wide selection of commodities. Maybe we were there too early (8:30am); the whole place looked like a flea market full of crappy stuff. Rows of concrete box-like stores lie randomly and listlessly under the scorching sun. Loud speakers as tall as me were blasting cacophonous Latino pop music. There were people waiting outside of storefronts that were not open yet. I checked out a few stores and didn't see anything worthy of buying. We fled quickly from the "Flea Zone."

Leaving the Free Zone and all the English signs behind, we drove to the other side of the border - Mexico. We stopped at Bacalar and did a quick drive-through: there is a beautiful park right next a lagoon and an old Mayan fort. The rest of the drive from Chetumal to Merida was quick and easy. This time, we avoided the small villages and stayed on the expressway all the way to Merida. It took only about 4.5 hours. We got back around 3pm when comida dishes were still warm on the table.

The rest of the day was spent on sharing our road stories with the fam, eating and resting.

Belize Trip: Cave Tubing and Belize Zoo (Day 4, Thursday, 12/28)

2006-12-30T11:37:00.000-08:00

We got up at 6am, packed our bags, walked to the airport and got on a 14-seater airplane headed for Belize City at 7am. From the airplane, we had a bird's-eye view of the city: There is not a single glitzy skyscraper in this biggest city in Belize. Many sections of the city appear to be in need of repairs and maintenance. I wonder if the city was in a better shape before the destructive Hurricane Hattie hit in 1961; maybe money was poured into building the new capital, Belmonpan, and left the old capital unattended. We had read and heard about Belize city's reputation as unsafe; and we were warned not to walk out after dark. All in all, it was a rather grim picture.

Denis, our tour operator, was already at the airport waiting for us. He then drove us to the Water Taxi Terminal to wait for possibly another 6 tourists who might join us. While we were sitting in the car waiting, a couple of people came by and knocked on our window asking for money; adding to the weary and dreary scene, there were several homeless people sitting on the sidewalk spacing out. Inside the car, we chatted with Denis, later his assistant, Mr. Rancho while Denis went looking for the tourists. It amazes me that they both speak 3 different languages: English, Spanish, Creole. In fact, a lot of people in this country can do that. It just shows how diverse this country of merely 280,000 people is.

Mr. Rancho himself has a very fascinating story: His great great grandfather came to Belize from India and moved to an area near Corozal, which he later named Calcutta. His grandfather was a bush doctor who cured many snake bites for people in town including himself (otherwise he could have lost one of his legs (or his life). He is very knowledgeable about plants, animals and history of Belize and he also managed to keep himself updated on current events.

Denis' 6 other customers didn't show up. So, Rancho drove us through the city and soon we were on the Western Highway heading towards the cave-tubing destination. Savannas on both sides of the road are full of lush plants and animals. When Mr. Rancho spotted an alligator resting on the bank of a river, he pulled the car to the side so that we could have a good look at the alligator basking in the sun.

We turned south off of the Western Highway about 40 miles away from Belize City and had a "road massage" (in Rancho's word) on a bumpy gravel road for about 15 minutes; then we were in a jungle - green and lush. At the parking lot, people were lined up for inflated inner-tubes. We changed into proper outfit and joined the line. Another couple (they both love travelling and have lived overseas at different places for many years) joined us. We were handed off to a teenage tour guide (to-be), Elmert, who led us through the jungle barefooted. Then, two of his uncles joined us while we were hiking. Basically, we had 3 tour guides taking care of four tourists! That's quite a service.

After 30 minutes of hiking through the jungle, we reached the place where we would launch our inner-tubes. As they say, the water was indeed refreshing, not cold. We sat in the tube in pairs with M's feet rest on my tube. The river carried us gently down the river under a cave where there are stalagmites and stalactites formations. All cave-tubing people wore headlights which created a moving web of dancing light on the ceiling of the cave, adding an extra mysterious aura to the cave.

Elmert was guiding and gently paddling so we could follow him closely. We passed through two caves, one of which has a water fall that makes mellifluous echos in the cave and a swirl of warmer white water near the waterfall. Floating down the river through the caves and under the open sky is exciting and relaxing at the same time. The water is crystal clear. I could see small fish swimming around my legs. When we came out of the cave, our eyes were met with a steep wall of trees under blue sky with a few strokes of white clouds drifting across - a scene that well fits the image of the Garden of Eden!

After cave-tubing, we were all hungry for lunch. Stopped at a restaurant called "Los Amigos" off the highway and had a nice lunch (roasted chicken, cole slaw, rice and beans). There was a parrot in a cage right alongside the restaurant that grabbed a lot of tourists' attention. She shouted out random English words like "hello" and "What's up!"

Then, we went to the Belize Zoo, where we saw some amazingly beautiful and interesting animals such as Jaguar, Toucan, Jaribu Stork (a big bird on the verge of extinction) and Black Howler Monkey (their howling could well be used in a horror film to mimic the sound of a gigantic monster approaching, yet they are not big).

On the way back to Belize city, we stopped at a prison store near Hattieville, a town named and founded afer Hurricane Hattie in 1961. All the items in the store are made by prisoners and the proceeds from selling these items will be used to subsidize prisoners' monthly stipends.

At a Belize downtown hotel, Mr. Rancho dropped off the couple who spent the day cave-tubing and going to the zoo with us as a group - we really enjoyed their company. We then picked up our tour operator, Denis and off we hit the road again for Corozal. To get to Corozal district, we had to drive up north through Belize District and Orange Walk District. Corozal is the northernmost city in Belize where we had left our car a few days ago. The 2.5 hour drive allowed us to have a glimpse into the northern part of Belize. We passed through a few small villages and towns; and they were all decorated in Xmas lights; even ramshackles were wrapped in glowing ornaments in shape of Santa Claus or Xmas tree. It's very green and lush all the way through. A couple of sugar plantations and refineries can be seen from the highway. In fact, sugar is the biggest industry in Belize; and 15% of EU's sugar is from Belize.

We picked up our car from Mr. P's house, and followed Dennis to his house at his invitation. His house is located on the outskirt of the small, quiet and peaceful city, Corozal, where we would be staying for the night before heading back to Merida. He has an impressively big plot of land on which he built his own house. Wherever I go, I tend to use China as a reference point. Belize is an interesting case. It appears to me that many people own a car and a house, yet the poverty (maybe crime also) is very mush visible, and in some cases, alarming. Then again, China is a huge. It would be hard to do a fair comparison. Denis has a beautiful wife and two little children. When we were there, they happened to be watching the movie "Cars." They were very hospitable. After chatting for a while, my stomach told me that it's time to leave.

Driving around the town for a while, we checked out the best hotel - as the road sign claims - in town: The hotel appears to be right on the waterfront, yet there was no windows facing the water; and the room we looked at was stuffy. So, we kept on driving and settled with a hotel called "Hotel Los Palmos" in the city.

Then, we went looking for a place to get some food. The choices are many and few: There are many restaurants, but the majority of them are Chinese restaurants. The one Mexican restaurant we went to was closed for the day. Now after travelling in Belize for a few days, I was still amazed by the number of Chinese here in Belize. Anyway, we went to one of the Chinese restaurants and picked up some food for ourselves and the night guard of the hotel to go.

The hotel room was clean enough, but the hot shower can only be called a luke-warm shower. We showered, ate and fell asleep on an interview about Gerald Ford, who just passed away, on CNN.

Belize Trip, Caye Caulker (Day 3, 12/27, Wednesday)

2006-12-30T10:34:00.000-08:00

We woke up late in the morning without any plans, but we had talked about a couple of different options: exploring Ambergris Caye on a golf cart, or going over to Belize City and walk around there for a few hours. It turned out that all golf carts were rented out and they were not cheap to rent ($50 a day). We hesitated. It's hot. My arms were getting burned. After wallowing in our wishy-washiness for a while, we decided that we would go and check out Caye Caulker and maybe catch a water taxi to Belize City.

We got on the water taxi. Instead of getting another boat, the taxi operator squeezed every body in, the boat was more than full. Local and tourist passengers were all jammed in together. Most of the tourists are from the US judging from the conversations going around on the boat. One guy has moved to Caye Caulker from Montana about two years ago.

Caye Caulker is a small sleepy, laid back fishing town, now also a popular tourist destination. In fact, it didn't become a tourist spot until the late 1960s and early 1970s when some hippies found their way there. Before that, it's an island that specializes in coconut processing, fishing, lobster trapping and boat building. Even its name 'Caulker' was said to have originated from the word 'caulk' or 'cork' when fishermen and explorers would work on their boats here (corking their boats). Then again, another story goes that the name 'Caulker' is actually from the Spanish word 'hicago" referring to a kind of cocoplum trees that were abudant once on this island. At the small water taxi terminal, there was a sign that says "Welcome to Hicago," I almost pronounced it as 'Chicago!'.

We walked for a couple of blocks and ran into a store run by a Chinese guy. He owns a general store and also rents out bikes to tourists. We picked out two bikes for BZ$8 per bike for two hours. It's a great way to see this island on a bike. We randomly rode around on different roads and trails, and from one end to the other end. The island is small: about 4 miles long, and 0.5 mile at its widest point and it was split into two halves by 1961 Hurricane Hattie, which created a natural shallow area for snorkelling and swimming.

We had lunch - two big shrimp and lobster Burritos - at a Cabana-styled restaurant near the beach, with Reggae playing in the background and sea ripples glistening in sight. Then, we returned to the water taxi terminal only to find out that we missed the boat headed for Belize. No disappointment. We were on island time. No pressing agenda. We rented snorkels and fins at a local store where the owner was racking his brains trying to figure out why Ebay woudn't accept his credit card. Michael helped him and he gave his own special snorkel to Michael. That was a good deal.

We walked to the Split where there were people swimming and snorkelling. We joined them in the fun. I didn't see many big marine creatures, just little fish and little sting rays.

Compared to San Pedro, Caye Caulker is definitely more laid back: fewer golf carts trucking around, less dusty. Everything seems to be in a nonchalant mode which quelled some tourists' urge to make a loud statement of their presence.

We hopped on the last water taxi at 3:50pm heading back to San Pedro. The ride was quick and fuss-free, except my eyes were hurting from irritation caused by sea water that seeped through snorkels earlier.

While I was resting my eyes in bed, Michael went out and made arrangements for the next day: Cave Tubing and Belize Zoo, which turned out to be the highlight of our whole trip!

Belize Trip: Snorkelling and Exploring San Pedro (Day 2, 12/26 Tuesday)

2006-12-26T16:45:00.000-08:00

We got up at 7am, went downstairs and had a simple breakfast (fruit salad, cereal, hardboiled eggs, toast, OJ and coffee) in front of the porch. Palm trees were swaying in cool breeze. The sand on the beach had been combed and raked in neat patterns. There were boats zooming to and fro in different directions on the water. We walked down the Woody's Wharf to the pier where a boat would pick us up for a snorkel tour. There were 7 people in our boat.

Our first stop was the Hol Chan Marine Reserve. We each paid $10 to the patrol ranger for parking the boat in the Reserve. Our guide, Albert, emphasized that we should follow him closely in the water. After putting on snorkels and fins, one by one, we jumped into the sea. The water was pleasantly warm and clear! Schools of fish swam next to snorkelers. I could almost feel their touch when they swam by me. The coral reefs were not as colorful as what I had seen in waters near Thailand (Co Phi Phi). Then again, we only saw a tiny part of long barrier reef that Belize is famous for. There are many brain corals (they literally look like a brain except that it's hard!) and fan-shaped purple-colored corals. I got a couple of scratches when swimming too closely to corals. My favorite part was gazing down at a deep valley - I felt as if I was skydiving except that I was floating and supported by cozy, clear and warm water. There are a couple of holes in the valley and a couple of snorkelers dipped into the hole to see what's in there. Michael was doing quick dips into the deeper level of the sea to see better - something I haven't learnt to do. I wish our guide had pointed out some interesting marine life down there.

Coming out of the water, we shivered. It was cold out on the boat compared to being in the water! The second stop was Shark Ray Alley. For some reason, we only stopped for about 5 minutes. We saw a huge sting ray with the body as big as a 8-person round table and a long tail, and we also saw a shark. The water there was murkier than Hol Chan area. But before we could explore more, we were called out to the boat and headed back to San Pedro on a bumpy ride. It was so bumpy that the boat was literally jumping up and down above the waves and splashing water into the boat. I nestled next to Michael trying to stay dry. It was a wet, bumpy and funny ride!

It's about noon when we got back to our hotel. The sun was beating down glaringly. I could feel the heat and humidity crawling all over my skin. We went searching for a lunch place. The dry sand and dirt on Barrier Reef Drive, the main street in town, got stirred up into the air by golf carts, main transport means on the island, we wanted to retreat back into our AC-controlled hotel room for a siesta so we settled for a restaurant nearby and had fish tacos and a burger there.

We woke up from siesta late in the afternoon. Feeling energized, we went for a long walk exploring San Pedro. We had dinner at Celi's Bar and Restaurant recommended by other tourists and Lonely Planet Guide. The grilled fish was exceptionally good. Then, we ran into a Taiwanese women and chatted for a long time and then knocked on Rebacca's Clinic and had a long time chat with the Chinese woman we met the day before (more on that in my entry about Chinese in Belize).

We strolled back along the beach to our hotel and ended our night on a mellow note without any plans confirmed for the next day.

Merida to San Pedro, Belize - A Seven-hour Journey (Day 1, 12/25, Monday)

2006-12-26T16:32:00.000-08:00

We had two different alarm clocks set at 7am to make sure that we could get up the next day (12/25), and make it to Belize within reasonalble time frame (catching the last flight or ferry to San Pedro on Ambergris Cayes from Corozol in Belize). We got out of bed, not without any reluctance; packed two small backpacks and off we hit the road.

The streets were quiet on the morning after Xmas Eve; the air was cool and breezy. Soon, we were outside of Merida city limits following signs pointing to Chetumal, the biggest city closest to the Mexico-Belize border. It seems like a fairly streightforward route to Chetumal according to our 1998 edition Mexico road map: YUC HWY 261-> MEX HWY 184 -> 293 -> 307 (South > South East > South).

At the beginning, going through villages and towns along the route was a moving visual delight enjoyed in our car: old churches, local markets, pedi-cabs, stray dogs, people loitering in front of store fronts or peddling fruits or snacks on the roadside; except that the road signs are poorly marked and there are numerous topes (speed bumps). We knew we may have missed the 'real' expressway. After a while, our attention shifted to trying to find our way out of these villages; and our frustration grew. We passed a string of villages and towns with names sounding very otherworldly - Pustunich, Yotholin, Oxkutzcab and Tzucacab - just to name a few. Finally, with positive (and negative) help from locals and our own road-trip savvy, we managed to navigate out of the maze of confusing road signs and a nimiety of speed bumps after hitting a town called "Justicia Social (Social Justice)" - what a name for a town!

The rest of the driving was largely care-free. After passing Buenavista on MEX 307, a real expressway - wide and smooth - stretched out proudly into the horizon. In no time, we drove through the border town, Subteniente Lopez, 7? miles away from the M-B border on the Mexico side and arrived at the border at about 2:00pm. Passing the border was fairly easy, except one officer fussed about us not having a written authorization for driving M's parents' car. After making us aware what he could have done in this situation, he let us pass. Alas, We arrived in Belize!

National borders are such an arbitrary thing. The scenary didn't change much; it was a continuation of same trees and similar plants along side the road. The only differences are that signs were marked in English, Belize's official language and we started seeing more black people.

After 6.5 hours of driving, at 2:30, we finally reached Corozol in Belize, and fortunately, we were able to leave the car with Mr. Pamar, father of Pamela through whom we booked a room in Hotel Corona del Mar in San Pedro. With the good luck in the car-parking arrangement, we manged to catch a 14-seater airplane at 3:30pm to San Pedro.

The ride on the small airplane was thrilling. Being on a small airplane provided a vantage point for viewing the changing terrains and water colors down below. We could see shallow waters where barrier reef are streching along the coast line beyond our vision. Different shades of green and blue are the dominant colors on the natural pallette here. We landed in San Pedro after 15 minutes of soaring into and gliding through the sky.

Taxi cabs lined up for business; one driver peddled his service zealously. But we chose to walk to our hotel knowing it's a small town; in fact, the widest part is only about 1 mile. With sun slowly and gloriously setting, we walked along the ocean front side all the way to our hotel, passing many piers, hotels and restaurants all facing the gleaming Caribbean Sea. We also passed a stinky landfill which will soon become (or already is) a piece of precious ocean-front property.

We checked in Hotel Corona del Mar (Crown of the Sea) and unwound for a short while in our room with oceanfront view on the 2nd floor. Then, we headed out to explore the island. We had great conversations with people and I was intrigued by a phenomenon - there are so many Chinese living in Belize (!) - which I will explore in a seperate blog entry. The night ended with a delicious meal at Jambel Jerk, a Jamaican restaurant that played Bob Marley's MTV video clips non-stop.

Christmas Eve Dinner

2006-12-24T23:46:00.000-08:00

M's parents' friends, two Cubans who moved from Paris to Merida a couple years ago, invited the whole fam to their house for a Xmas even gastronomical retreat. Here is a list of multiple courses that we consumed:

1st: appetizers - home-made cheeses in shape of pyramids, crackers, and two different kinds of pepperoni
2nd: Foie Gras, a piece of toast, juicy figs in special sauces made from figs freshly picked from trees grown in their backyard.

3rd: ceviche on a bed of ice, served on individual clam shell

4th: lemon sorbet served in a real lemon filled with refreshing sorbet.
5th: guinea hen and pear with chocolate sauce. They also have guinea hens raised for them by local villagers
6th: salad with strings of lemon peel, assortment of cheeses (French way of eating Salas along with cheeses)
7th: rabbit meat wrapped in Chayo leaves
8th: chocolates and turrons (Spanish tradition during holidays)
9th: A cake that I don't quite know how to describe - cheese/icecream cake with lady fingers around it

Along with good food, there was also good wine, good music and, more importantly, good company! We basically ate from 8pm to 1am and didn't get back until almost 2am. Understandablly, finishing a nine-course dinner requires the whole body to 'work' harder to absorb everything - presentation, color, smell and taste, hence the length of time spent on appreciating, savoring and chewing!

What Day is Today?

2006-12-24T14:41:00.000-08:00

I know Christmas Eve is in a few hours, but I don't remember exactly what day today is. Is it Saturday or Sunday? I had to rearragne my fingers to figure that out. The past couple of days have been a blur, a pleasant blur.

We have been sleeping in every morning since we got here. Early in the morning I heard birds singing in trees, dogs woofing, and early-risers chatting, yet I let my body sink into the dreamy realm again. It truly feels great not having to jump out of bed at the whims of an alarm clock; after all, we are in vacation mode: We wake up late, just in time, for comida (late lunch). After eating, we have a quick dip in the pool, then read by the pool side, then hop in a hammock for a short or long siseta dictated by the natural body mechanism. When the dusk falls and the air is breezy, we stroll down to Plaza Principal and the city center where there is music and dance - salsa, or local mayan dances - on every block in the Centro every Saturday.

Yesterday evening, we stopped by the new hotel, Hotel San Angel, which was designed and built beautifully: the murals of tropical lush plants blend in very well with the ambience in the courtyard; lighting fixtures in the U-shaped porch circling the courtyard are exquisite; the interior is even more stunning - the all-brick arched high ceiling is a loud statement of the craftsmanship on the remodellig work and it offers stunning uniqueness to the iterior of the hotel. Besides the physical beauty of the building, a sample plate of the cookies made by the owner was just out of the world! We sat down and chatted with the three Iranian sisters, two of whom (from Canada and US) are here for one of the sisters' hotel opening. Their fascinating stories broadened my views about Iranian women, which I gained through a paucity of literature (sometime with biased views) that I've read so far about Iran. They really showed a side of Iranian women - humorous, industrious, intelligent, pragmatic, opinionated - which I'm not familiar with.

Tomorrow we are leaving for Belize. More sunshine and more dipping in the water (the Carribean Sea this time) are on the way, only outside the comfort of Casa Contenta.

From Winter to Summer

2006-12-21T21:33:00.000-08:00

29 celsius degrees, warm breeze, savory comida, blissful siesta - what can be better than this?! We are on our annual winter getaway retreat at - Casa Contenta - Michael's parents place in Merida again!

We took a red-eye flight out of Seattle to Atlanta, leaving behind the dreary winter weather, Birdie - our sweet cat, our cozy house in need of some new shingles and a few out-of-town friends. The flight was pleasantly uneventful - no delays, no drama - exept it was overbooked by 3%. Many people are trying to get to somewhere during the holiday season; we joined the holiday travelling crowd in search of family get-together, fun and sunshine.

We killed the 4 hours at the Atalanta airport while waiting for our connecting flight by eating (grits, biscuits, eggs and sausage), napping, reading and walking all the way from Concouse A to E instead of taking the train, which we did just to insure that our feet still remember how to walk after 8 hours of flying and waiting. The flight from Atlanta to Merida was short and smooth. It was a small, yet full, plane with capacity of 66 passengers - a good mixture of people from Mexico, Canada and US; young and old.

Michael's parents picked us up. It's so fortunate of us to have them living here and we get to visit them and have an extra two weeks of summer days in the darkest days of a year. M's sister is here too; the whole fam will be here in a few days - a big famly reunion. Also there are five dogs barking and wagging tails welcoming us. Blanchita was beaming with smiles. She already made a delicious comida (late lunch at 2pm-ish, the Mexican tradition) waiting for us. We ate. We chateed, then we took a long siesta.

After a long siesta, we went to a hotel (Hotel San Angel) opening here by an Iranian couple - a beautiful hotel and beautiful people with wine glasses in hand clinking around...then we went and had some yummy Salbutes and Panuchos (like a Taco), then Tepes Nieve, an icecream parlor, for some helado (icecream).

Casa Contenta, Merida - our winter getaway heaven, we don't feel like tourists here; we feel like being at home away from home.

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2006, Year in Review 岁末回首

Since the magazine Time has chosen YOU as the Person of the Year for 2006. I figure that "you" also includes me. I guess it's not too tongue in cheek to have my own version of Year in Review. Below is the email that I sent out to friends. I want to include it here to remember 2006.

My Dearest Friends,
2006, the Red Fire Dog Year, is coming to an end - Xmas is in a couple of days; the New Year is in a week. I thought it would be a good time to give you all a quick update on our life in 2006.

So, what did we do in those 300 plus days? There is no earth-shattering or life-changing news to share with anyone. We've learnt to seek for changes in baby-steps instead of giant strides: I'm still working at the Port and have learnt to appreciate many benefits that my job offers including enjoying the company of my best friends there, K and T.

Michael is still at his job managing a small non-profit that offers great flexibility and trips (sometimes I get to tag along) nationwide. We've been living in our first house, still somewhat new to us, since October 2005; and we love the location - 10 minutes away from the city, yet we get to enjoy the serenity of the suburbs, and I can bike to work when the weather allows. Yes, we're very much settled in.

Besides a steady job and a place we call sweet home, we are fortunate enough to mix our sedentary life with trips here and there. In January, we had a great time, as always, in Mexico . This time it was even more fun, because we got to hang out with Greg, Hyun-Joo and baby Ella. In February, we went to China and spent the Chinese New Year with my folks in Hunan; and on the way back from Shanghai, we got to meet a whole gang of friends in Shanghai: Mency, Andy, James, Gracia, Brad, and Kris, to name a few. In March, Michael surprised me with a Birthday trip to a cabin with Jacuzzi at the foot of Mt. Rainier . We had fun snowshoeing with Eric and Irene when they came and joined us the next day.

In April/May, I went to China on a business trip and was able to spend some quality time with my mom. In June, Michael and I went to San Francisco for a long weekend; we walked all over the city and saw the gay pride parade, where I was wowed by their creative outfits and makeup. In July, we had one of our best friends, Zuo You from Beijing , visiting us and staying with us for a few days. While he was staying with us, in the same month, we had the biggest party - 20 some people watching the World Cup final - at our house. Seattle 's summer is as gorgeous as always, except it feels a bit warmer this year. The summer air was filled with smoky BBQ in our sunlit backyard - Eric and Irene are our loyal frequent BBQ guests. Then, in August, we went down to Portland 's Blues Festival and did a little Oregon Coast road trip with Greg, Hyun-joo and Ella-Bella before they headed off to their adventures in China (and later Lesotho ).

In September, I went on a business trip again to Shanghai and Hong Kong for the first time. Then, I tagged along Michael for a long weekend trip to Boston in October; then we came back to the wettest month in Seattle – November! Then, there was a snow storm, followed by a wind storm. It added more unexpected drama to the normally dull dreary Seattle winter.

Now we are chilling and lounging around in Merida , Mexico again. We are driving to Belize in a few days. I will try to blog about it on my site: www.gobilily.blogspot.com if I have internet access while on the road. I finally got my blog going with inspirations from a few friends, whose blogs' links are also on my site.

Looking back, I can say it's quite a wonderful year. Life is good. If I had to wish for something different, that would be my mom's health. During the year, we also heard great news from our friends: getting engaged, getting married, getting pregnant, getting new jobs, babies growing beautifully, advancing in the academic world, moving to a new city etc. We are happy for all of you. This is life, beautiful life that we all love and cherish.

With that, we're sending you our best wishes! Happy Holidays and Happy New Year! Hope to see you (or some of you, for sure) in 2007!

Peace, love and hugs to everyone,

L and M
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What Phobia? Haircut Chair-phobia

2006-12-19T22:25:00.000-08:00

The alarm went off like a bomb; with fair amount of resentment, I reached over and slammed on the snooze button and went into deep sleep again. Waking up from a dream, I yelled, "Shit! It's already 7:00am!" I jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready for my early morning ortho appointment. It's still dark outside; I was still half asleep harping over the fading details of a disturbing dream I had.

Sitting in a reclining dental chair, I began to feel better about the day ahead of me. Every visit to the doctor's office is getting me closer to the day when my teeth will be finally freed from braces and straight after 30 some years; and I long for the moment when I can put my front teeth to use again on corn cobs heartily.

Lying down in the chair, I always choose to keep my eyes shut and move my mouth as told. The thought of having my eyes open watching the doctor's hands moving makes me uneasy. I'd rather pretend to be a mechanical part during my time in the dental chair than making my presence visible. All the wire-tightening, drilling and shaving makes talking literally impossible, which, to me, is a blessing in disguise.

I consider my experience in a dental chair much more pleasant than that in a hair-stylist chair. After work, I went to Gary Manuel Phase 3 for a hair cut. My favorite hair dresser was not there. I had to put myself in a stranger's chair yet again. This - getting a hair cut in a chair - must be one of those experiences so mundane that most people don't even think about it. For me, it, somehow, is one of the most self-conscious personal care services that I dread. Why? I don't know. It's pathetically bizarre how my mind works when sitting in a chair getting a haircut.

I agonize over many things that seem so trivial: what conversation topics do I have to initiate? What if it turns out that I don't like the haircut? What if she tries to sell me hair care products? What is an appropriate tip? How long do I have to stare at myself, her and people around me in the mirror? These stupid and frivolous questions torment me.

I can count the number of times that I've been to a hairstylist - average about 3 times a year - since I was 18 years old. Before that, my existence was so minuscule that I didn't even get to go to a saloon - a hair cut by our neighbour, or my father, or a friend - I didn't have to sit in a chair and examine myself painfully in a mirror for an hour or two. After I started going to hair saloons, I remember how painful it was to sit in front of a mirror, looking nervous and out of place; worse than that, I somehow would always end up with a running nose every time when I sat in a chair getting a haircut.

For the first time, I confront myself with these absurd fears associated with sitting in a chair getting a haircut. The bizarre thing is that I feel totally comfortable being scrubbed like a baby, lying on a bed without a stitch in a Korean Spa: there is no mirror, no small talk, just pure hard scrubbing. It's actually quite a cathartic experience - physically feeling a layer of dead skins coming off!

P.S. Here is a link to a brief history of hair. It seems that people in ancient times, or even as late as the 19th century, have put much more emphasis on braiding hair, decorative hairpieces, wigs or hats. Women's modern day hair-cutting grew out of the need to be more efficient around house chores. After women won their rights to vote, and began actively participate in social, political and economic activities, the hair styles began to become more casual and free-spirited.

Cozying up in front of "Breathless"

2006-12-17T18:15:00.000-08:00

Blue sky, crispy air, squirrels hopping around and birds chirping - no obvious signs of a disastrous storm just the day before. Looking more closely, there are trees lying around with root balls dangling over gaping holes; many households - over 40,000 - are still without power. We got lucky: survived the storm with uninterrupted power and gas supply; our roof also endured the storm without leaking on us, although dozens of shingles got blown off.

Late Saturday morning, we were aware of our fortune of having power and heat on a winter day. Michael made crepes; and along with crepes, we cozied up and watched a French film, Breathless, by Jean-Luc Godard. It was shot in 1960, and later became one of the most influential movies made during the French New Wave period. Since modern movies have absorbed many of the new editing techniques (e.g. jump cuts) and theories (e.g. "auteur theory") that the New Wave movies championed, as a modern viewer, I can't quite fully comprehend the revolutionary impact that this movie had on movies and directors of his time.

Like many other movies, this one deals with human existence, death, love and betrayal - subject matters of movies of all times. The plot is fairly simple: Jean-Paul Belmondo, a heartthrob French actor, played a thief who fell in love with an American girl who sold newspapers in Paris. The thief, Michel, killed a cop. From then on, he was on the run from the police. When betrayed by his American girlfriend, he didn't choose to flee from the police. The last scene was a protracted scene of him running away from the policemen who shot him, but it seems to me that he was trying to run away from his imminent death, or his love (maybe) not worthy of dying for. That was left ambiguous.

Actually, one thing that does strike me as something special is the way the movie portrayed the main character. The movie didn't portray, Michel, a thief as an evil person; instead, the movie presented an amoral picture of his being, his emotions and his philosophy of life. That seems to be a new exploratory concept rising out of the given historical period - reconstruction and rebuild after WWII. The director grew up during war times when the Axis armies were fight against the Allied Forces, the evil vs. the good. As a challenge to the black-and-white way of view of the world, an amoral portrayal of a real human being strikes a different cord blurring the moral lines.

On a different, yet related note, comments about American and French cultural differences in different scenes and conversations were an interesting reflection of the interactions that these two nations experienced during the after-war rebuild period. It appears to me America was a symbol of strength and independence, a word used a few times at different scenes in this movie.

There was a sweet sense of humor and naughtiness that added to our cozy ride throughout the movie. Even the seemingly painful ending was endearing. Admittedly, with 21th century viewers' lenses, I wasn't awed by the plot or the highly-praised revolutionary editing techniques used in this movie.

A Quick Glance at Belize - History and Its Peoples

2006-12-15T19:48:00.000-08:00

Belize is located in Central America. On its northwest border, lies Mexico; on its southwest border, lies Guatemala; and on the eastern side, it boasts a long coast line facing warm blue waters of the Caribbean Sea, which hosts miles of barrier reef, coral reef and atolls (环礁).

It’s the only country in Central America where English is the first official language. The reason for that, of course, is historical. Unlike Mexico, Belize had been a British colony for a long time until the 1970s. Even now, they still recognize Queen Elizabeth II as their sovereign. Its current name - Belize - was only adopted in 1973. Before that, it was called British Honduras. How did the British end up there?

Similar to the rest of the American continent, before the Europeans ‘discovered’ this ‘new’ continent, there were Amerindians – in this area, the Maya – living here. The Maya civilization thrived for centuries, peaked in the 9th and 10th century, and suddenly suffered a mysterious decline around the 11th century. The first Europeans, the Spanish sailors, came to the shores of Belize in the early 16th century (1508). Their control over this area was crippled by repetitive attacks by the British, French and Dutch pirates, who started looting Spanish ships in this area in the 17th century. In particular, they raided Spanish ships for logwood, which was a high-profit commodity of the time, due to its ability to generate colors for dying wool. These different colonial factions fought over the rights to cut logwood. Later on, these wood cutters became known as“baymen,” who were mostly British nationals. In the late 18th century, they were able to negotiate themselves a sweet deal and push the Spanish rule away from that area, and eventually gained full control of the area after winning the Battle of St. George’s Caye in the late 18th century.

After logwood, mahogany wood became another hot commodity as a top choice for making luxurious furniture. To supply sufficient labor for cutting down mahogany tress, these white British settlers started bringing African slaves from Africa and other parts of Latin America such as Nicaragua. This practice, over time, also changed the demographic composition of Belize. When the British abolished slavery in 1833, these freed men stayed in Belize.

The 19th century saw Belize in the control of a couple of powerful British private companies. There were protests and riots against the racist British rule. One of the protests was launched by WWI veteran soldiers, who weren’t allowed to fight shoulder to shoulder with their fellow British solders in the trenches.

In the first half of the 20th century, Antonio Soberanis rose to be a leader of anti-colonial rule. In 1964, Belize achieved its self-governing status as a British colony. After a series of pro-independence movements, Belize finally achieved its independence in 1981.

The demographic mix of Belize is multiracial and multi-ethnic. The creoles used to be the majority of the population, now they account for about 25%. The Mestizos make up about 65% of the current population. The rest are the Maya, the Garifuna, the Mennonites and other ethnicities.

Trying to get a clear understanding of which ethnicity is which can be daunting at first. Here is my version of oversimplified interpretation:

Creoles (Kryoles): descendants of Europeans and Africans (e.g. French/Spanish + African; sometimes they are called mulattoes)

Mestizos: descendants of Spaniards and Amerindians (e.g. Spaniards + Mayan)

Garifuna: descendants of Africans and Amerindians (e.g. Africans + Caribs/Arawaks)

Mennonites: a Christian group (many of them are descendants of Germans and the Dutch) that came into being as a result of the Protestant Reformation in the 15th Century. Their beliefs are often characterized by emphasis on community, simplicity and Pacifism. They are also the best farm hands in the world. They move to wherever they can be allowed to have religious freedom and military exemptions. They are scattered in tightly-knit and predominantly rural communities in all four continents. Most of the Mennonites in Belize traveled all the way from Canada, and some migrated out of Mexico and other parts of the Americas.

OK, That's Belize's history in one page!

Merry Merida, Felize Belize – embracing sunshine and sandy beach

2006-12-14T16:09:00.000-08:00

The local weather channel must be awfully busy this winter: first, incessant rain, then snow storm, then ice, now windstorms and thunder showers. I hope our roof can hold up - some shingles have been blown off. This winter is all about drama and extremities, and far from its normal pattern of being mild, drizzly and cloudy. Somehow, this seems to coincide with what’s been going on at my workplace – a series of unexpected personnel changes and departures. Maybe the crazy weather had a hand in this?!

The night falls early here in December, and on December 21st, we’ll have the longest night of the year. With trees dressed up in twinkling lights and other glowing ornaments hanging every where, every twinkle sets off the drabness hanging over the city under imminent rain clouds, and gives me comfort, knowing that we are gearing up for the biggest and longest holidays of the year. Yesterday, on my way to work, I saw a huge full rainbow erecting across the skyline over the harbor and downtown. It was an exhilarating sight! Yet, an evanescent display of a spectacular rainbow can’t hold me back from a two-week long vacation in a zone of sunshine and sandal-friendly space!

Our annual southern getaway trip is in a week. I’m counting days and hours. We’ll be staying in Merida for a couple of days, and then head off to Belize for a few days. Belize has long been known as one of the best diving destinations in the world. My original plan of becoming a diver has failed. Snorkeling would do for me, at least, for now. I’ll record my first imaginary tour of Belize in my next blog entry.

The wind is howling and shaking trees vehemently outside our cozy house; Some neighborhoods have experienced power outages. Tomorrow, school closures are expected; treacherous commuting to work is forewarned. The whole city will slow down - a pace that we'll truly get to enjoy once we are on vacation!

Augusto Pinochet, Jean Dominique and “the barrel of a gun”

2006-12-12T21:41:00.000-08:00

Pinochet died two days ago, on December 10th, Human Rights Day. An interesting coincidence. He has long been criticized for violating human rights to achieve his political goals. Politically-motivated assassins, tortures and disappearances during his rule are in the thousands.

Pinochet, through a coup, came into power in 1973, just a few months after I was born, and stayed in power for 17 years. He’s been a controversial figure in Chile ’s history. His role as a leader has been debated hotly in the media. His supporters hail him as someone who brought democracy and free market economy to Chile , and nipped communism in the bud. His opponents denounce him as a political thief who stole power from a democratically elected President, Salvador Allende, and pursued his political agenda ruthlessly. No matter what the excuse was or is, a military dictator is a military dictator.

On Sunday, we watched a documentary, The Agronomist, directed by Jonathan Demme. (He also directed The Silence of the Lambs, Philadelphia , and the Manchurian Candidate). The documentary is about a Haitian journalist, Jean Dominique, who bravely spoke out against successive military dictatorships in Haiti . He also founded Radio Haiti Inter and started broadcasting in Kreyole, a language spoken by most of the populace, for the first time in history, in Haiti. He also started Haiti ’s first film club thinking that movies, with powerful images, can make positive changes to a society where most of the people are illiterate. Coming from the mulatto elite class, yet he spent his whole life passionately defending and promoting the rights of poor unrepresented peasants. His radio station was repeatedly attacked and shut down by political thugs and the Duvalier dictatorship’s secret police force, Tonton Macoutes. In the end, on a quiet April morning of 2000, he was shot to death in front of his radio station. Up until now, the assassin and the ultimate criminal who ordered the assassination were still not found.

Chile and Haiti both reside in the same hemisphere. Their culture and people are quite different. Yet, a history of military rule is something both countries shared. The interesting part is that, in both countries, the US had been involved in propping up, or unintentionally facilitated the rise of military regime. In Chile , the US ’ fear of a Communist government coming into power promoted its support for Pinochet. In Haiti, US facilitated the return of the democratically-elected president, Jean-Bertrand Aristide, back to Haiti, with the US making huge compromises with the military general who forced Aristide off to exile. But only merely 3 years later, Aristide’s government was overthrown by paramilitary groups lead by an ex-US Special Force agent. What an irony! The US ’ military support of certain regimes and governments at certain times have buried bombs and seeds for a multitude of unforeseeable problems such as the Taliban.

It seems that Chairman Mao was right on the target when he said that “political power grows out of the barrel of a gun (枪杆子里出政权).” But where does it end?! As long as only certain people have access to the barrel of a gun, the rule of law will be extremely hard to establish and take roots.

At Anchor, yet Oceans Apart

2006-12-10T22:53:00.000-08:00

Michael's brother, P, took us to visit a Chinese tramp vessel, Hui An, that has anchored at the Port of Tacoma for repairs. The ship has left Australia almost a month ago. It originally started from Lian Yun Gang, a Chinese port city. Their next destination is Chile. The sail from Australia has not been smooth. A few days into the sailing, the ship had to turn back to Australia due to some fuel-related problems. Then, the cargo that they loaded, alumina, was found to have gone into a fuel reserve tank through holes in cargo compartments (or something like that). That's why they are here longer than they had planned for.

The Captain, Mr. Wu, hasn't slept for a couple of days trying to deal with all kinds of issues surrounding damages done to the ship and maybe the cargo. He smoked apologetically through a pipe. It looked like that he badly needed one. Besides being friendly and polite, he also speaks good English. Through a quick small talk, I learnt that he went to Shanghai Maritime University and had to work in a factory for many years as punishment for his involvement in 1989 student movement. When talking about how fast Shanghai is changing and how long he can be away from home, he said that one time when he arrived in Shanghai, he couldn't even find his way home, due to the massive changes that Shanghai has undergone during his absence. He shook his head expressing his dis-satisfaction with the pay for the kind of work that he is doing. His wife makes about $100 a month working as a cashier. He strikes me as a man with a lot of responsibilities on his shoulder, family and work.

The 2nd mate took us to the bridge where we could have a view of the harbor and the giant hollow cargo pit in the body of the ship. We could see a few people repairing the ship.

There are 21 men on this ship. All men, not a single women. They have been on the sea away from home for months. They have kids and wife at home. Worst of all, when anchored at any port in the States, they are not allowed off the ship! Obviously, the rules have changed after 9'11. After so many days at sea, finally they are right next to the shore, yet they can't set foot on land! That's really inhumane. Imagine every country had this rule - who would ever want to be a sailor again? Does this actually prevent or deter terrorist activities?

According to the 2nd mate, when American vessels call Chinese ports, they don't have such restrictions in return. Allegedly, in China, one of the lures of working on ocean-going vessels is the pay. But a 2nd mate only makes about $800 a month and ABs (able-bodied seamen) only about $300-400 a month. That's really nothing considering the hardship that they have to endure.

Besides the limited freedom, the food provisions on board the ship are inadequate. They don't get enough vegetables, because they are too expensive to replenish. Whoever budgeted the food provisions must not be on the ship themselves. Little wonder that the 2nd mate is considering quitting and working for a company on shore. There are plethora of opportunities awaiting in China. Why endure all this unjustifiable hardship?!

If the Chinese shipping companies don't take good care of its 50,000 crew members, the Chinese maritime industry will suffer an irreversible brain drain.

"Lost" in reality

2006-12-08T22:48:00.000-08:00

Lately there have been more than usual number of reports on people getting lost in the snowy PNW wilderness. First it was a woman hiking alone and got lost in the Cascades. Fortunately, the rescue and search team was able to find her safe, albeit shivering. Then, a family got stuck in a snow storm on a supposed-to-be-closed road on their way to Gold Beach in Oregon right after Thanksgiving. The Dad died in search of help after leaving his two small kids and wife in the car. The wife and the kids were found safe after having disappeared for 7 days. It even pains me to retell the story. How tragic this is! I can't imagine the trauma of the surviving family members who endured the extremities - from a happy after-holiday road trip to a deadly snow-bound disaster. Getting stuck in a snowstorm or getting lost on a hike was never something that I would consider deadly. This story really shook me to a new realization.

My favorite TV serials "Lost" romanticises the whole idea of being lost - being stranded in an unknown place - where mysteries unfold and spiritual journeys begin. But, in reality, getting lost is often the last thing on our mind. The abundant supply of everything everywhere and easy access to everything anytime have really lowered the standards for our preparedness for emergency situations, and dulled our survival skills.

The closest experience that I've had with getting lost was when I was young in Xinjiang. I remember that a couple times I was lost in horrifying sand storms. The sky was darken in a few minutes. The wind was fierce hurling up sands and dirt as it twisted and turned like a headless monster. I was blown away a few feet away from my family. I couldn't see or hear anything around me. Trying to open eyes was impossible. The wind was so strong that I had to bend down and hold onto to something (I don't remember what I was holding onto). I was so scared that I couldn't utter a word. I was just waiting and waiting for the sand storm to pass. That frightening sense of calm was eerie as if I was waiting to be taken away like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. I often wonder whether we would all feel a sense of serenity when it's really time for us to go.

Do we just let it go? What were the last thoughts of James Kim, the father, when he realized that he wouldn't be able to save himself nor his family?

Wintry thoughts, wintry memories

2006-12-06T17:11:00.000-08:00

Isn’t weather one of people’s favorite topics? It seems like initiating a conversation with asking about weather gives people extra comfort and time to actually think about what they really want to say without sounding too abrupt. And I don’t feel compelled to repudiate Seattle’s reputation as a “rainy city” anymore. If I enjoy living in a city, the weather really becomes secondary to how I feel. But this November Seattle did really well in qualifying as "rainy city."

It’s official. Seattle just broke the record it set in 1933 by dumping 15.37 inches (vs. 15.33) of rain in November alone. That, of course, reinforces its fame as “rainy city.” 15.37 inches of precipitation is a lot; in fact, that’s close to half of the average precipitation of 38 inches Seattle gets annually. That’s actually lower than New York, Houston and many other cities in the nation. Besides rain, we also had the first snow of this year in November! The snow put a break on the whole city – no school, working from home, fewer cars, being stuck in the snow.... The city is not prepared (nor was it built) to handle heavy snowfalls. Like San Francisco, Seattle has many hills. A couple of hills were closed to traffic. Kids were having a blast sliding down those hills. A merely few days, everybody felt the impact of the snow. And now all the thrill and shrill in welcoming and hating the snow is all gone with melted snow.

I’ve experienced winter in different time zones and different terrain. When I was just a little girl roaming around in the Gobi desert area, I loved snow. Rolling around in the snow, sliding one the ice, having snowball fights - there was just too much fun out in the cold and in the snow. As one becomes older and starts to take on more responsibilities, one becomes more sensitive to weather changes. As adult, we worry about commuting to work, we worry about how to look wholesome in cold weather, we worry about power outage, etc., weather also often becomes a convenient excuse for people to feel certain ways - happy or lousy.

I lived in Shanghai for over seven years. My memories of winter there are often associated with being extremely cold. Well, there was no heat in the dorm or classrooms during my four years in college. I remember being all bundled up and holding a palm-heater while studying in chilly classrooms and libraries. I brought thermos filled with hot water and drank tea as the night went on. If I had a choice to choose a university in the South, would I? No. I chose the school because that’s the city that I wanted to be in. Those cold winter days and nights are full of bitter sweet memories. Now that I’ve got heating all over the house. It’s hard to re-live that whole episode again.

Chicago’s winter can be brutally cold. Commuting on buses sucked. I can still vividly remember my feet numbing away under me standing in darkened and harden snow waiting and waiting. But mountain-biking in the snow was quite fun. Obviously, snow and having to work is not a good combo.

Michael and I traveled for about a month in the winter of 2004 in Europe. Our first stop was Copenhagen. Copenhagen’s winter is very precious – or shall I say – the daylight is precious. We woke up around 9:30 or 10ish and had breakfast and got ready to go and explore the city, it was already dusky. A couple hours into wandering around the city, we were already totally enveloped in dark sky lit up by glittering lights everywhere. Tivoli probably looked even more enticing on a winter night around the Christmas time. People were biking around. Although cold, a lot of them were dressed very fashionably and having fun. Maybe because the daylight is short, people have come up with more creative ways of enjoying the wintry darkness.

Seattle’s winter is predictably unpredictable. You know it’s probably going to be cloudy, maybe with a bit of drizzle from time to time. But you don’t know when you’ll get pouring rain or even flurry snow. The culprit of the unpredictable part is probably global warming which, according to reports, will make Seattle’s summer hotter and winter wetter. And on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, Shanghai was just reported to have had the hottest autumn in 55 years. Is it time we do something about the global warming?

Christmas Tree and Holiday Spirit

2006-12-04T23:02:00.000-08:00

During lunch time at work today, the topic of Christmas tree came up in my chat with K. I was telling her how I almost bought a small Christmas tree when M and I were at Home Depot on Saturday. I guess I just wanted to have a sliver of that very contagious holiday spirit. Since we are going to spend the holiday away in Mexico, we decided against having one in our house. Yet, this very brief and sudden yearning for a Christmas tree triggered my interest in finding out about the history behind it.

As part of the Christmas decoration, the tree is really the center piece. Little ornaments and lights are hung from tree branches; gifts will be laid out under the tree. Without the tree, the holiday will be very lacking in ambiance.

I had always assumed that the Christmas tree had been part of the Christian tradition all along. In the meantime, I never assumed that the Christians are the only people who had this tradition. Evergreen trees must have caught the attention of ancient peoples from different corners of the world, especially in the coldest months of a year. It is no surprise that, in both Pagan and Christian traditions, we can find origins of such a practice - placing branches or boughs of evergreen trees inside a house usually in Winter. Although in the pagan traditions, the evergreen tree was often used to recognize the winter solstice, the shortest day of a year; while in the Christian tradition, there are different legends, myths and theories that all link this practice with Christianity. For example, one of the legends has it that, around the 7th century, St. Boniface, a monk, cut down a deciduous oak tree being worshipped by a group of Pagans, who had been just baptized. Miraculously, an evergreen tree grew out of the oak tree stump. This symbolizes the death of Paganism and the triumph of Christianity. The fact is that it would be very difficult to trace this tradition to one single origin.

According to many sources, the first documented use of a Christmas tree in the Christian tradition was in 1510 in Riga, Latvia. But Western Germany is really the place where this tradition took roots and spread to other parts of the world. It is said that Martin Luther was the one who started this tradition in the 16th century. Throughout the 19th century and early 20th century, the Thuringia area in Germany boasted the oldest and biggest Christmas decoration industry.

In England, this tradition didn't catch up until the latter half of the 19th century during the Queen Victoria period. She and her German prince, Albert, helped popularize this practice through their own popularity. In the late 19th century, this tradition was introduced across the Atlantic to the States by German immigrants. And the Frank Winfield Woolworth was one of the first American businessmen who started selling Christmas trees in his stores - forerunners of modern day Walmart!

These days anybody can celebrate the holiday with a Christmas tree. In China, it is still a fairly new fad and highly commercialized. It is just another opportunity to for people to get together, to shop and to have fun decorating!

Who is Louisa Alcott? Yours for Reforms of All Kinds

2006-12-03T22:22:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we went to a book reading by author, Kit Bakke, at a friend's house. Since I haven't read the book, nor have I heard of the author's name before, I thought that it would be a drag to sit through it. Surprisingly, it turned out to be a very interesting event. The stories behind this book project are fascinating.

The book is called "Miss Alcott's E-mail." This Miss Alcott is Louisa Alcott who wrote "Little Women. " I really didn't much about her beyond that. I read "Little Women" long time ago when I was studying English in China. In fact, I don't even remember the plot anymore. Obviously, she is better known as a writer for that book than anything else. Yet Ms. Kit Bakke doesn't even recommend "Little Women" to people who want to learn more about Louisa Alcott. According to her, Miss Alcott's true personalities and values are not reflected through "Little Women" - a big hit of her times.

So, who is this Miss Alcott? Kit's book intends to search for an answer, and in the meantime, she weaves in her own stories of being a young person in the 60s and 70s. It looks at two distinctive time periods - the late 19th century and the 60s and 70s - both are times of significant social changes. In Miss Alcott's time, she lived through the slavery abolition movement and the earliest stage of struggle for women's equal voting rights (In fact, she was the first woman who registered to vote in Concord, the city she lived in.) Kit, the author, was involved in the anti-Vietnam war movement and later became a member of the Weathermen group which was a radical organization with a goal to "bring the Vietnam war home" through acts of domestic terrorism. Kit smartly structured the book in modern day email format so that she and Louisa Alcott can have a dialogue across time zones.

As Kit told us, she was inspired to write this book, her first book ever, after a trip to Europe during the 9'11 week. She was in tears like many others there when all the tour boats on the River Seine in Paris started playing the song "America the Beautiful." She said those emotions compelled her to write about something good about America and the American people. And Louisa Alcott came into her mind while she was lying on a dentist chair after having returned home from Europe.

I think Kit's own stories must have made readers easier to relate to Louisa Alcott, a female writer and activist from a different century. I imagine it would be a real treat to look at Louisa Alcott's life through her eyes.

Sichuan Pepper, Chinese Prickly Ash, Zanthoxylum Piperitum and Hua Jiao (花椒)

2006-12-02T21:51:00.000-08:00

Sichuan pepper, Chinese prickly ash, and Zanthoxylum Piperitum - they sound very different to my ears, but they are just different variant names for hua1 jiao1 (花椒), a key ingredient in Sichuan cuisine. I didn't know its English names until just a few weeks ago when we had some friends over for dinner.

For that Xinjiang-themed dinner (one of the guests recently returned from a trip to Xinjiang), I made a Big Plate Chicken dish (大盘鸡), a popular Xinjiang dish, in China. One of the required ingredients according to a recipe that I had was hua jiao (花椒). One of the guests asked me where I bought the Sichuan pepper, for as far as they know, Sichuan Pepper has been banned for importing from China by USDA since 2000 due to some serious disease that it could cause for certain plants. (It turns out that recently the US has started allowing imports of Sichuan Pepper again on condition that it's heated up to a certain degree. Don't ask me why - I don't know the science behind it.) I actually didn't use Sichuan pepper, I used black peppercorns instead. No wonder when I threw them into hot oil, they were exploding and splashing oil and bits of peppercorns all over the place! If I had used real Sichuan pepper, that wouldn't have happened. Why? Because instead of crackling up in hot oil, Sichuan pepper would quiet the sizzle and disperses its flavor through oil.

Although it is called "hua jiao" (flower pepper) in Chinese and has a peppery taste to it, it really has nothing to do with chili pepper or black pepper. Sichuan pepper is from a completely different plant and is famous for its unique flavor that it adds to dishes. In Chinese, it is usually described as "numbingly spicy." However one wants to describe its tastes, a lot of us crave for that special kick and will gladly welcome that numbing sensation. Agaisnt common intuition, the strong flavor actually resides mostly in the shells of the dried fruits of the Sichuan pepper tree.

The Chinese not only use it widely in cooking, but also in medicine and daily housekeeping chores. According to the Chinese medicine, hua jiao is good for your lungs, spleen and kidneys. To ease the soreness of your feet, you could soak your feet in hot water infused with Sichuan pepper oil. To keep your closet free of clothes-eating bugs, hang a mesh bag of Sichuan pepper. Got a bug in your ears, a few drops of Sichuan pepper oil would force it out.

Apparently, its uses have been recognized and appreciated by the Chinese long time ago. During the Han Dynasty (206 BC - AD 220), it is said that the concubines and princesses in royal court would paint the walls of their palace with a special mix of paint, in which the main ingredient was Sichuan pepper. Supposedly, that helps keep the palace warm and give it a fragrant aura. The seeds of Sichuan pepper also symbolically create an auspicious ambiance and bring good luck for producing offspring. With its wide use in the royal concubines' quarters, came about another variant name, 椒房 (jiao1 fang2), for 后宫(hou3 gong1), the Chinese version of harem in the royal palace.

Next time when I use Sichuan pepper, I will use it admirably!

The Origins of Hot Pot 火锅

2006-12-02T20:57:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder about the stories behind Hot Pot 火锅? The other night we had Hot Pot at a friend's house. I'm from Mainland China; and the hostess is from Taiwan. We talked about how popular Hot Pot is in both China and Taiwan. Politics may divide us; but Hot Pot brings us together. That got me thinking about the origins of Hot Pot.

There are many theories and stories out there. Of course, the 5000 years of Chinese history could take us as far back as the Shang and Zhou Period. 火锅 (Huo3 Guo1) literally means "Fire Pot." As long as it is food cooked in a pot over a fire (or a hot surface) and directly eaten out of it, I guess that qualifies as Hot Pot.

Back in the Shang/Zhou period (about 4000 years ago), the ancient Chinese like people elsewhere spent a lot of time performing all kinds of rituals such as praying for rain or longer life. Rituals often involve eating and drinking. It is said that that's the beginning of Hot Pot - meats (of course, without modern day's vast choice of spices and flavors) cooked in a big vassal with 3 or 4 legs over an open fire.

The rest of Hot Pot's history seems to evolve along with the discovery and development of materials used in making the pot. For example, copper and iron later were used in making cooking utensils. That seems to be a big step forward over earthenware in terms of heat conductivity. During the Three Kingdom Period, a dish called Wu Shu Fu (五熟釜) added some sophistication to Hot Pot. It had 5 sections in a pot so that one can taste multiple flavors. What a smart idea! But imagine having a chopstick fight over which section one should dip into!

The Song Dynasty saw a big boost in the fame of Hot Pot after Lin Hong (林洪), an intellectual, bragged about an amazing meal that he had when visiting a hermit friend in the mountains. The story goes like this: one day on his way into the mountains to visit his hermit friend, it was snowing; he saw a rabbit limping along, so he caught that rabbit and brought it to his friend's house. He didn't know how to cook it, so the hermit friend showed him how - slice the rabbit up and throw them in a boiling pot and pour in some soy sauce, wine and other ingredients. It turned out to be a delicious meal. Lin Hong raved about it and even gave it a poetic name, "Bo Xia Gong" (拨霞供). That's already very close to modern day version of Hot Pot.

Another theory goes that Genghis Khan came up with the idea of Hot Pot which is easy to cook and serve so that he can feed his hordes of troops. Supposedly, they dipped slices of lamb into flavored soup. But I always thought that the Mongolians preferred roasted meats.

During the Ming and Qing dynasties, Hot Pot started showing up on menus of restaurants. The well-known essayist, Yuan Mei, in his writings also mentioned Hot Pot. The Sichuan numbingly hot Hot Pot was said to have started on street vendors' small mobile food stalls. Later on, it got so popular restaurants started making their own Sichuan-styled Hot Pot.

What a simple idea! Yet, the western cuisine doesn't really have anything quite like that. When the humans were all sitting around a fire thousands of years ago, didn't they come up with similar ideas like a Hot Pot dish? Maybe that's where civilization had its earliest diversion - one leaning toward collectivism and the other individualism. Modern day Hot Pot can even fabulously combine these two distinctive styles without sacrificing the great eating atmosphere a Hot Pot can bring about.

If you have a great story about Hot Pot, you are welcome to share it with me!