movie

Savannah, Bobanah

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

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

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

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"

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

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)!

"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

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!

"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!