Old China Town Paradox

Where can you get good Chinese food when you are not in the Chinese soil? China town seems to be the common sense for non Chinese people. However, speaking the truth, I rarely had decent Chinese food in any China town, incluing San Francico, New York, Toronto or Yokohama. The foods are OK, but the sitting area is never comfortable. The decor is always the owner's homegrown taste, lighting is commonly dim (so that dinner cannot spot the soiled table cloth because they were not done professionally but in the owner's home laundry machine). Most restuarants are run by the owner, who picks up the phone taking take out orders then runs to the wok to cook. The shop is basically ran by the couple, one cooks and the other handles the accounting and hospitality department.

Waitrons are either temporary (grad students working night shift to save for next semester's expense), or the owner couple's relatives, who you see year after year. There were 2 types of owner's wives (not to be discriminative, but most chefs were male). One type is the hard working one, who never manages to make herself look more presentable. She sits behind the counter, making sure the money is collected. She would also put on the plastic glove cleaning up the table or dishes when shorthanded. The other type always keeps herself pretty, have the nails meticulously done. She would articulates her Chinese style, almond eyes and so on. Smile flirtatiously to every male customer (she also remembers their names). Never dirty her fingers with kitchen work.

The quality of ingredients is not of the best because the restaurants constant struggle of saving cost. I was told, in New York, the final batch of fish market's sales is scarvengered by Chinese restaurants. The old China town restaurants keep feeding the city with cheap and somewhat authentic food. They are fine to survive but cannot pocket more to rejuvenile the food and service.

There is a Chinese saying goes like "You would know how to eat and dress after being rich for 3 generations". Oversea china town tends to be too seedy and overly Chinese to have comtemporary high quality dinning experience. Of course, there are exceptions, those who insists to do their food the original way for decades.

The best hope to get nice food is to trace those Hong Kong immigrants after 80s.

5 Short Stories (yes, there're 5 of them, thanks Ata)

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess lived in a small village by the sea. One day tsunami hit the shore and the princess was eaten by a shark.
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Alien attacked the earth and human almost wiped out, but when they all work together they defeat the aliens and the earth is safe. Then a big meteor destroys earth.
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The detective concluded the bulter committed the murder of the millionaire. The bulter protested his innocence, suffered a heart attack and died.
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"Work hard and you can achieve your dreams!" The mother told her son. He then became a world class athlete and he won a gold medal in the olympics.
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A father and son exchange bodies after being struck by lightening. A lot of funny stuff happens regarding kids & adults situations. Then they return to normal.
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This ends my series of SMS haiku stories. Hoep you enjoyed these profound engrossing stories in an SMS (160 character maximum) nutshell.

Broken Fingers

Going to the the Kawaguchiko, the town right next to Mount Fuji. I really need to have a fresh breath of air outside of the concrete jungle. I mean, Tokyo is great but after a while you kinda miss the mountains and trees.

We came to the season where all leaves have fallen the week before, the riverside is under on-going renovation, mud and sand were everywhere. Oh well, it is still good to get out of town for a while.

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As a little girl, I spent a lot of time playing with stray dogs. In fact, I collected them, always took home with me a dog with serious skin problems. Stray dogs were suffering from fugus infection or flea bites. They tend to scratch too much which later develop into infection. Of course, no one was treating them, the ill skin turned into smelly wounds. My parents were too busy to notice what I was doing, I did spend a good deal of time after school in the garage.

I started this fugus infection condition on my fingers since grade 3. During the winter time, the skin broke out no matter how much lotion I applied. It is like the fingers refuesed to obsorb any kind of moisturizer. You can see the small porous holes filled with water underneath the skin on my finger tips. And they itched like hell.

It bothered my mom because my hands were so badly chapped it bleeded all the time. She would squeezed time out from her busy schedule to take to doctors. In my memory, I had tried so many different type of medicine. Sometimes the medical lotion was black greasy like asphalt, sometimes it smelled nice like strawberry. But nothing really helped. The sympton would go away for a while then return. The doctors told me not to play sands or touch dirty stuff, but I guess they don't really know I was taking care of the stray dogs. My mom would sometimes hold my hands while walking, always moving her fingers around mines to check if the condition had been relieved but she always sighed.

After I started attending high school, I had no more time with stray dogs, the condition was getting better but still not fully under control. Sometime later, I got a bottle of medicine for skin diease from the vet and I was applying it on my stray dogs, a couple of weeks later, both my dogs' and my fingers' skin were cured.

Sharing Table with the Iron Chef

I met up with Susie on Sunday for our pilgrimage trip to Muji headquarter near Yurakucho station. When being asked for lunch idea, I suggested the yakitori place that I have read on internet (where people refused to go with me because it is too seedy, too old fashion or whatever the reason is). I walked past this grill chicken paradise a number of times but never had enough courage to walk in and order some grilled skewered chicken with my broken Japanese.

We sat down in the small table, the ceiling is literally above my head (this is the small join underneath the Yurakucho JR station, to be exact, right under the railway. You can feel the wall trembling when trains go by). Later the seats next to us was occupied by 3 Japanese men, the older one started to chat us up, offered us food and drink. It was very much pleasant meeting.

It turned out the old man was one of the iron chef challengers, he runs a restaurant in Ginza and the 2 other young men are also in charge of restaurants in Asakusa and Yebisu. Strange Tokyo, people are so snobbish sometimes yet so friendly if you go to the right place.

The very strange thing is that the youngest chef was doing all the service for the iron chef, I mean, he refilled his glasses and ours with much attention but you don't feel annoyed. He even diluted my drink with water when the iron chef insisted to pour me more liqour while I was eyeing him not to. He skillfully made his master happy and not get me drunk at the same time. Whenever the master talks to him, he would grab his ear (he sat next to the young chef) and dragged him over, the young guy looked exactly like the son being submisive to his father. Is this an act or he is doing it out of an habit?

>

Party like the Indians do

We had the Indian theme party on Saturday, just the way Susie likes it to be. She invites people over to her places, supply a lot of alcohol and make them cook for her. I, as usual, became the best amature sous chief you can ever dream of in town. I observe and guess the chef's next move, I am like the worm inside the cook's stomach, constantly think ahead of the chef. I know exactly when I should hand over the spatula or clean the cutting board. I also julian cut or dice any veggie given the dimensions (sometimes I visualise how the veggie should look in a dish without asking, amazingly, it always works out fine).

I finally met another woman who can make louder laughing sound than me. Sunary is such a character. A typical New Yorker, American, being trapped in the small oriental girl's body. We had a blast. Suchi, Arif and Semeer were also extraordinary. The Indian lady Suchi drinks wine, eats everything and looked so young as a mother of a 8 year old. I hurried back to Nyngyocho by the last train with 3 huge bags stuffing a small stereo system. Half drunk, but still managed to take it home alright. Gee, I have been partied too hard these days.

How to Make You Day

Though the project room and the office is filled with the politics shit and people are not very nice in general. I try my best to put on my happy face to everyone, I am very calm and gentle to people I meet. Including the security guards in the bank. I always smile at them when coming in or going out.

We were required to flash our badges when passing through the gate. I always smile sweetly to them although I seem to be the only one doing it (yeah, Tokyo people all have the poker faces, can hardly spare a smile to strangers). I think it somehow pays off.

I was ask to bring back another colleague's badge back to the bank after my Japanese lesson in the office. I flashed his badge to the security guard and smiled sweetly as usualy when entering the bank. I was not stopped.

In the Train

The old Chinese saying goes "it take 10 years in your previous life to brew a chance to share the same boat with a him/her in your present life. And it takes 100 years to share the pillow". I am always wondering what I did to deserve the chance to share a subway train ride with my fellow passengers.

The subway train ride in Tokyo is dead. The moment a group of talkative and energetic teens board the train, they go dead silent. No one looks around to spot anything/anyone interesting, everyone is trying to avoid eye contact with strangers. I am often amused by this, so I just look around and try to catch anyone's eye contact when I am in the train.

When Irene came to Tokyo, we were sitting in the train and talked in Mandarin. "The train is really quite" " Yeah, I know". "Can we pretend to have a fight?" "Do you want to get on TV first then be deported to Canada and me to Taiwan?"

So I rested my case and we kept talking while everyone else in the train was so quiet. Suddenly Irene grab my shirt and asked me agressively if I think she is going to get rich one day.

I was genuiely shocked, thus, my facial expression said it all that we were not joking. The act clicked in my mind almost instantly and I took over the sence . I started to shake my head violently and gave this please-do-not-beat-me-up look. (I found that Japanese people are very sensitve in facial expression, they are very good at picking up your emotion in general, perhpas that's the side effect of living in a highly, densely populated area).

The train car is still in dead silence. I stole a glance over the people, no one was trying to look at us but the air was tense, you can feel that people in the car are starting to feel uncomfortable. The oyaji (old-middle-age man) sitting next to me just stood up and walked to the door, although it is not his stop to get off.

We resumed our conversation in normal pace, as if nothing has happened, so did our fellow passengers.

Meeting with Big Boss

Obviously the management starts to feel the heat that the lucrative project is not properly managed (we are billing the bank almost a million quarterly). The big boss came to Tokyo and wanted to have 1 to 1 session with every consultant. We agreed to meet for dinner. When I first joined 2 months ago, still young and naive, I gave him a very good impression that I am very energetic and uplifting. He wanted to take me out for dinner.

We went to the pub next to his hotel, I was trying hard to look professional and confident. But the moment I set foot into the pub, I started my multiple sneezing non stop and also I really needed to use the bathroom. So I grabbed chance between my violent sneezing saying I need to go pee. He looked at me, obviously amused, said that's too much information. I was a bit embarrassed because I didn't use the proper language in front of the big boss (that must be the voilent sneezes), nevertheless, I set out to the toilet.

The toilet located in the corner of the small pub was occupied, I decided to go back to our table and wait for my turn. As I walked, I tripped over the platform right underneath the bar stool. I literally flew and landed on my knee. The semi-full, noisy restaurant turned dead silent for a couple of seconds while I was on the floor. I managed to get up with my last streak of diginity but my shins were hurting like hell.

The big boss was even more amused, kept telling people around that I am more fun when I am really drunk. I am old enough not to feel really embarrassed but my shins were badly bruised and scratched. The big boss asked for ice from the bar, put them on my foot and instructed me not to mention this to HR. The waitress came to take our orders and asked me sympathetically how is my foot.

The bruises went away today but my arm muscles are so sore and tense. I must thrust my arms forward very hard when falling.

We Love to Party

Made to Stick

I was reading "Made to Stick", explaining what makes an event, an story linger in your audience's mind for a couple of hours, months or even years. Just got to the chapter about the "surprising" factor. The author explains that emotion is supposed to help us to survive. For example, when being angry, our brians literally stop thinking process so we can focus on the event and get out of danger quick.

Anger also enforces the belief that we are correct, do you remember last time when you were angry with someone, you cannot rationalize but only understand "I was right, it is not my fault"?

Similarly, surprise, the emotion urges us to note there is a change in our thinking pattens. We tend to be comfortable to contant events. A out-of-blue change is more likely to make us think, wanting to get to the bottom of the sudden turn. Because it is a signal to change our guessing routine, thus, the unexpected sticks to our minds longer.

Young Wife

I was invited to Irene's family gathering when we were both in Taipei for Kaiping's wedding. Irene's family friends, managers working in her father's business attended the dinner. Over the dinner table, there was a young lady who looks younger than Irene and I, talking sweetly and telling me that she lives in ShangHai. I was curious how she was dragged into this crowd but I didn't utter a single word. Later, I figured out that she is the young wife of one of Irene's father's managers, who is, of course, around the same age of Irene's father.

He was sitting next to this young girl, attentively making sure that her plate is full of foods and she is not too bored by people around her, who she barely knows. The manager is a typical middle-age Taiwanese business man, loud, grass rooted and sharp. Speaking Mandarin with thick Taiwense accent and looking at me with accusation eyes when I told him that I don't speak Taiwanese fluently. You can feel the fight between manhood and tenderness when he looked at her with the dreamy eyes. How he divoiced his wife who fought with him over these years for better life and married this young lady from ShangHai? However, you can sense the jokes shoot toward this young ShangHai girl from other managers' middle-age wives are not coming out of no where (are they feeling insecured?).

How is life being fare to the divoiced middle-age wife? Will she be able to find another life after all these years spending on her husband and family, living without herself? She is driven out of the social cicle because of this young kid. What is she now after being ripped of the title of being someone's wife? Is she happier after being single again? However, if the middle-age manager responsible for love being lost between them so that the affair could have the chance to grow? We all have the right to pursue happiness, however, if it costs others' happiness? Would you do it?

One thing we can almost be sure is that the middle-age manager would not have been so lovingly taking care of his company if he's not divoiced his wife and brought her to the dinner.

Line of the Day

Having lunch with other consultants in the office, I bashed about how strange this client is. A number of technical analysts were dismissed from the project because of some strange reasons. M.C. is on the job now, under a lot of stress because the client keeps criticising him. Poor young M.C., I mean, I tried to tell him this is only a job, but he is so stressed that he cannot sleep at night.

The client is painstakingly into details, and clinging to the documentation word by word. Another very good tech consutlant who was dismissed from the bank told me that once the bank asked why the downloaded software was a zip file before and is a jar file tihs time. They demanded to log this as an issue and wanted a 10 page long explanation.

(the java jar files are usually packaged into a zip file to ship)

Preoccupied

I seemed very absent-minded these 2 days, I boarded on the train bound for the wrong direction twice in a row. That might have something to do with the book I am reading. Natsuo Kirino is a female writer living in Japan. "Out" is her first book got translated into English in 1998. She is such as good story teller. First, she tried to hook you in with food because the female protagonist worked night shift at the lunch-box factory. I can smell the grease from deep frying pork cutlet and steam from just cooked rice. The foods turned into such mundane, uninteresting objects, lunch boxes, waiting to be shipped. She is cold, intellegent and lonely. She is 43, her career and family are both screwed. She decided to take the night shift job and spent the hours from midnight to 5am with financial stressed part-time housewives.

One of the housewives strangled the abusive hudsband to death and, being the most sturdy and strong one in the group, she was asked to help out getting rid of the body. She did, cutting her friend's husband into pieces and threw them with household waste. The group of part-time housewives is drawn into this killing and cutting one after another. This is really a page turner, you cannot help but wanting to know what is going to happen to these plain, normal housewives, how can they get out of the mess.

After the body part was found, the Casino owner was the primary suspect of the killing. The author spent a long time describing him, how he became impotent after raping and stabbing a woman 17 years ago. With which her pleasure and pain are his and his hers. He is the lonely soul, trying desperately to find the sexual climax no one ever experienced. I actually find this character more interesting than the cold, intellegent Masako (the protagonist). In fact, my attention was drawn to Sakate, the casino owner, because he is such so much different from the ordinary Japanese men I know. He is a pimp, selling women in his hostess club to whoever is willing to buy them a drink. He dressed very well yet too pronounced. His voice is low and smooth. He has solid, almost stocky body build yet his fingers are delicated and well-manicured. He is scary, in Kabuki-cho, people are experienced enough to get out of his way when he's on the street.

He is looking for another woman who hates him like hating snake yet attracted to him, as anyone can guess, Masako fits. (Don't ask me why, Masako is a mystery in the whole book. The book only vaguely explains that both she and the casino owner have things in common, that is, they are both sick. She wouldn't mind being killed, as long as it is in his hand, and he wants to kill her while making love to her). He met Masako when he found out that she got rid of the body. He also found out Masako has the potential to bring back his widest sexual experience.

Meanwhile, Masako started her own little business, as if she had no choice, she started to cut up bodies in her own bathroom for the Yakuza and earn heafty amount of money for herself and her housewife friends. She sure had choice not to get involved. But I think this comes from her self-destruction. She didn't need the money, she just wanted to see how low she can sink.

I am not going to tell you how the story ended. The plot is happening in the most ordinary, boring neighbourhood yet the clush of personalities isamazing. However, I think the book is a bit weak about Masako and Sakate's motivation.

When the Tree Falls in a Forest without Anyone There

Does it make a sound? That's the most strange question I ever encountered, who the hell want to ask this type of question?

I had very philosophical conversation today. It goes like:

"Why it is not good to think negatively?"
"Because you might potentially lose the benefit of thinking positively"
"Your answer is very positive in a negative way."

What Love Looks Like

I will need to do some shopping today. I literally passed out the whole day, haven't been so sick for years.
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I was reading the Taiwanese movie director's plan to depict Taiwanese men. They are usually shy, don't know how to express themself, care about friends (to be honest, I am not sure there is anything to film about). His next filming plan is more interesting, a love story. He said, when you are young, you fall in love with your own imagination. Everything lovable about her/him came from your own restless thinking. When you are middle age, love is a shit hole, features mortgage, children education funds and endless unexpected expense. When you get old, love is to hold your partner's hand and take a walk.

Want to be a Consultant?

My friend has demonstrated everything bad about being a contractor for the past month. I can understand why permenant employees don't like them because they are getting paid a lot more than we do. Also, if the billable work is taken up by contractor, perm workers would have less chance of getting decent bonus.

Contrary to the monetary reward of being a contractor, the downside is you don't know when you will be told to go home. The bank can turn around and say we don't like the contract we signed a couple months ago because we don't like you now and we are not going to pay you anymore. Holly shit, this can get very emotional and personal. I can see it is taking toll on my friend over this past few weeks. Of course, the off-site work were not made clear to the bank at the beginning is also a reason.

The other not-so-good thing is that a contractor is never belonged to any team. It would help if the hosting officer make some effert to blend the contractors in, what if the environment is contractor-obnoxious? The time and energy to cope with the political upheaval are amazing.

Sitting on the Tin

The day I returned to Tokyo, I wasn't feeling well the whole day because I unwisely drank a super huge craneberry banana smoothie in our breakfast hang out in Lotus Hill. We then had lunch in a restaurant in Taipei city before departing to the airport.

My sister in law, nephew, Grace and my parents were all present. We ordered 4 or 5 dishes which are pretty standard and delicious. I didn't eat much but the rice because the food tasted too salty and I had to stop my parents from having a verbal fight. It is very energy consuming to divert their attention.

Anyhow, my dad became the victim to accompany me to the airport. Strangely my bowl movement clock was messed up and things were fine again after a bathroom visit. As usual, airport is the place where my father likes to get emotional and we had a fight, throwing violent languages back and forth (while lots of people enjoy watching) until I entered the gate.

The next day I got my dad's phone call saying everyone is having the diarrhea or vomitting. I am fine apart from the fact that I didn't feel hungry. A couple of days later, Irene called me saying Aoki and she were also seriously ill after returning back from Taiwan. It turned out it is the stomach flu, which is very contagious. The inflammation is caused by rotavirus rather than food poisoning. My mom and I seemed the lucky few who is strong enough to fend it off so far.

I woke up with sore limps and abdominal pain this morning, yet still thinking eagerly what I am going to do today. However, I have to answer the call of nature number of times even before my morning coffee. My Saturday is ruined.

What Do You Really Need in a New Flat

I think I am very much qualified to write about starter's kit of a new home since this is the 3rd time I moved to a new apartment in the past 2 years (if you really count carefully, I changed home twice in California, twice in New York, twice in London, twice in Beijing).

I moved to a flat with almost everything I need, but there is a little mess up with my luggage, I spent my first night on my bed without bedsheet and blanket (had to wrap myself up with my scarf and put on many jumpers). I didn't have towel to dry myself after shower, I pursed up my lips and dried up my hair with pajama, at least they are made of cotton.

Toilet rolls are of course important, but in Japan, you can always get free packet of tissues on the streets, this can wait. My mouth guard is getting uncomfortable, I needed to use scissors to shape up the plastic piece. I used the nail clipper instead, not the most efficient way but it worked.

I brought my french press and fine coffee powder with me. My day is only starting after the boiling hot water goes into the pop and the wonderful coffee aroma flows in the light, crispy morning air... The first time I feel like to cry after this month's relocation ordeal was when I realised I have no coffee mug and it is impossible to drink it out of the coffee pot.

A Hole in the Wall

Running back to my new apartment from work, I am 20 minutes late because my bag is supposed to get delievered to my flat between 6-9pm tonight. When I got home, I was nevously watching around trying to find the delivery truck. Shit, I might have just missed them for 2 minutes. At the same time, I tried to console myself that the delivery guy might not be that puncture. Anyhow, I got back to my little flat and wait, drown myself with a bottle of cold beer.

I don't really agree with the way the bed was positioned in my small bedroom when I viewed this flat with my agent 2 weeks ago. Under the influence of alcohol and boredom, I think tonight is the night to make my life a whole lot better, by changing the orientation of the bed. I went to the bedroom, removed all excess weight that is going to impede my grand plan of rotating the bed, ready to go. Carefully calculated the space, I decided to lift my double bed side way, rotate it to the position desired and then let it down carefully without damaging the drywall. The bed is surprisingly heavy even after I remove the matrics and supporting woodslabs. I lifted the bed up so it is resting on the side frame. I easily rotated it to the position and the real problem revealed itself to me. It is viturally impossible for me along to lower the side of the heavy bed. Many ideas started to roam in my mind. Disassemble the bed requires screwdriver, which I don't have. Asking the delivery guy to help me with it is too risky, number 1, I don't speak Japanese (he might think I am inviting him to have some fun with me). Number 2, I don't want to invite stranger to my bedroom, either. OK, so I am all by myself, what can I do?

I slowly lower one end of the bed, carefully cushion the leg against the wall with my T-shirt. I then move along to the other side, trying to move the side on the ground inch by inch (the floor is carpetted, friction is huge, very hard to move), so I can adjust the cushion T-shirt inch-by-inch so that I don't damange the wallpaper. As I moved to the lower end of the bed, a strange thinking occured to me, why shouldn't I try to lift the whole bed quickly so both end can be situated in the right position? That saves a lot of time. I naturally went to the weight center, lifted up the bed as hard as I can and then the disaster followed.

The bed has the heavy wooden panel sticked to the head, what I have miscalculated is the bedsite lamp has added the additional weight to one side. The bed was not balanced when I hold the center of hte bed frame, it quickly ducked over to the wall and created a 2x1 inch hole on the wall. I am very much devastated.

Edgy

I went through the emotional rollercoaster ride yesterday. Thinking the apartment contract is finally settling in and I only need to trash Stephen's apartment for a couple of nights, I was only too relieve that this flat hunting nightmare was calling to an end. A phone call from my manager came. He accused me of not being sensitve to the office manager, who was swamped by the apartment application I introduced. Also, the agents I have ever had contact with persistently called her to see if Joey is still looking for a place in Tokyo. I was furious, burning with rage. I wasn't told the apartment rental process in Japan, and I had no idea that the agents I worked with have caused such a dramatic effect on our office manager. I was also repeatedly told that the company can seal the contract for me as long as I can find a flat I like. The reality is far off. I was frustrated, stressed, and constantly worried that I am going to sleep on the street because the company didn't show any sign of sympathizing my situation, thus, my corporate apartment is not going to be extended. Now I was given a lecture of how unsensitive I have been?

I wrote to my manager, clearly indicated that I don't appreciate his phone call and my first month in Tokyo is certainly not the best. His phone call made the lowest of the low. When I clicked the "send" button, I was determined to quit. I cannot imagine working with such a character. What the hack, I can always find a job in Starbucks.

My manager wrote back within half an hour, I cannot be bother to read it. Toward end of the work day, I finally bring it open and found that my manager has agreed to extend my corporate apartment yet alleged I am the key person he wants to keep in his professional service team. OK, my immediate problem is solved (I don't need to slush my luggage with me to Rippongi and move again on Monday when the apartment is ready), a relief. But I am still edgy, feeling humiliated and uncomfortable.

Grinding Teeth

It seemed not stress-related but more food-related, my grinding teeth. I heard my father do it, the sound is like pressing 2 ceramic objects against each other tightly, then slowly sliding one of them away. Of course, with a lot more intensity. Obviously I was doing it myself, one time I was half awoke and found that my jaw clench so tight as if I am chewing. The molars were moved against each other slowly but the action felt so right at the moment, my brain cannot think of any other things to do to make myself more comfortable then.

I was given the dental guard and use it religiously since. However, I sometimes dream about biting into food and found that the guard has stopped me from enjoying the texture.

The Bloody Finger

I think I should write this down as a slice of my childhood. That was a autum day where I was still in junior high school, all I want is a better bicycle and photographic memory (so I can pass exam easily). Uncle Thomas was in town that day.

I came back home from school just like any other oridinary school day. My father was working on the machine in the garage. My mom was chatting with Uncle Thomas. Out of blue,my dad walked into the living room with his left hand holding his right, blood was springing from his enclosed left hand and dripping on the floor. My father said "Give me a cigerrate, I think we need to go to the hospital.". I remember my mom slipped into floor and Uncle Thomas held her up. I came out from my room and witnessed the whole bloody scene. I fetched the car key for Uncle Thomas and they were rushing to the emergency room.

I was left alone in the empty house, with blood all over the floor from garage to the living room. My mom's rigid house clean training kicked in. I picked up the table cloth and mop, started to clean up the blood from the first scene, the machine in the garage. As I cleaned the blood from the steel debribs, I found the top third portion of my father's pinky finger. I think my father and I had never been that close since my childhood. I took the lifeless, meat-like finger to the sink and let the water wash away the dirt. I read in reader's digest some people's limbs were saved that way (reader's digest is only good at that time). I wrapped the finger in tissue paper, put it in my back packet and jump on the bike, riding as fast as I can to the hospital.

They saved my dad's ring fingure, but the pinky finger I sent cannnot be attached because the bones and muscle were threaded. We put it in the perservative filled glass bottle and save it in the fridge so we can scare and disgust our guests once in a while. It might be lost when we moved house a couple of years ago.

Happy Birthday, Miffy!

I went to the acqarium to celebrate my birthday. To see other miserable creatures stucked in the dead end pool swimming in circles seems to help me lifting up a bit. Am I cruel or what?

There is a huge white dolphin isolated in one huge tank (I am using huge too many times? But she is really huge, 3 meter long at least). She swam in circles, practiced tricks because she knew how to draw the wow from the crowd. Her face seem cheerful, you know how dophine looks like, the slightly upward curvey lips always give you the illusion that they are enjoying themselves. She skillfully let out the potato size bubble from the breathing hole on top of her head and then eats it in with her smily mouth. She does it again and again, as if she is appreciating the attention. I stood there and felt so damn sad. She knew it all yet she is doing it because she has no other choice to make her life better. This is a little entertainment in her life, perhaps.

The wild animals are too busy to worry about what they were born to do, they are constantly finding anything that can sustain their life longer in order to reproduce and raise the young. The purpose of life is very clear that they want to survive and prosper. What is there for the animials and fishes in cages? What is there for human beings if you are well fed and don't know what to do next?

The slits are located in the underside of the dolphin's body, concealing the reproductive organ. It looks surprising sensual. After all, we are all mammal, are we not?

Time to Say Goodbye

My starting month in the new job in Tokyo is not the best. In addition to the bad luck with apartment hunt, the unfriendly officemates, unhelpful office manager and obnoxious project teammates. I am so deperssed that I only want to do the mininum and get my paycheck. This is so unthinkable to me in the past, I always put 200% of myself into my job, I dated and slept with my work, sadly, I like it.

I start to wonder why some people strive in their work and some don't. I mean, put the right people in the right envivronment, they grow, blossom and glow. Suppose the opposite, they fade and wither.

One of the most experienced contractors is released from the project for some reasons I don't quite understand. Is there a god? If there is, he must be a serious joker. Sometimes you just have to let things fail, I guess.

Do you notice that the most difficult part of messenging, chatting with people on the internet is when to say good bye? You two seemed to run out of interesting conversation topics yet out of politeness, you hang around, waiting for the other to quit first. I mean, I feel guilty and rude to say good bye, perhaps I am still a nice person deep down?

Another Curve Ball

The application of apartment was declined by my offiice manager because, she alledged, it is impossible for us to produce personal information of the president of the organization I work for. I am a bit stressed out and am really running out of ideas, perhaps I should try to take my stuff to the office and sleep uner the office manager's desk after the corporate apartment expires next Wednesday?

Desparated, I called a gaijin agent who probabaly has better idea how to help another gaijing. (my Japanese agent was really inexperienced and naive, she is useless in helping me to solve my problems). He seems to have something in mind when telling him my situation, I hope things will work out.

In the recent years, I guess the frequency I dealt with estate/recruiting agents is quite high. I was almost dating one of estate agents in London when I was thinking about buying a property, we met every weekend. I also have countless sweet phone conversations with recruiting agents. Agents come in different sizes/shapes/demeanor. But they are all pretty predictable. First, start a small talk to get to know you by prying or asking directly. Secondly, trying to show you things not-quite-up-to-your-standard before showing you the normal standard items. Thirdly, creating the illusion that this flat/job is such a hot commodity. Finally, they disappear without a trace after the commission is paid.

I cannot say they are crooked or anything, that's the nature of their job, all they do is just what the broker/agent handbook has told them.

Tsukiji Tuna

Hanging out with SunGard people, man, I miss them very much.

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I finally went to Tsukiiji fish market today with a friend. This great fish place is only 15 minutes walk away from Ginza!! We went into a sushi restaurant, ordered the tuna plater, which consisted of sushi made of various part of tuna. The middle tuna belly meat doesn't tasted like fish at all, it tasted like, very delicated butter without the milky smell. The meat literally melt on my tongue, perfect with slightly vinigered rice. No soy sauce needed, there is no fishy smell but subtle hint of meat that you have just put into your mouth.

I also like the tuna belly tataki-like sushi. The sushi chef flamed the fatty tuna belly sushi, the surface was slightly cooked and the fat rendered down on the wooden plate. It was sprinkled with tiny salty flakes, a little stringy because of the connective tissues, however, that's where the fat and taste reside. I ate those 2 pieces with dreamy eyes, what a treat.

After the feast of tuna sushi, other type of sushi has lost their appeal.

Kagurazaka

I found an apartment in the same aread the very next day knowing that my application of my first choice has been rejected because I cannot produce a Japanese guarantor. It is so true that when one door is close, the other door would be open! I am a bit stressed but never despaired. It is indeed very xenophobia for the Japanese landlord, but what can I do? I am living on the Japanese soil.

Work is still easy going on my part as I am in the transiting period. It is not yet very demanding. At the same time, I am beginning to lose faith in what I am doing. Risk management seems like a biggest scam in financial history. Credit derivatives allows traders to transfer credit risk form one institue to another, and, how to assess the fair value of the credit risk is still unknow to most practicioners. The vendor and the bank's risk management are still bragging about how well we can help investors to figure out how much the credit risk is supposed to worth. This is just pure bullshit. No one ever predicted the sub-prime market was going to crumble when the central bank is tightening the monetary policy. However, it takes no brain to see when private equity firm gets easy money, they invested in almost everything. Does the risk assessment models tell people how risky it is? Yes, to some extend but people buy the risky assets? Oh yes, for the sake of quick bucks.

The private equity firms and others invested crazily on risky assets because the fundings were so easy, so cheap. If they lose out, no harm is done since the money were borrowed anyways. In this haydays, small fishes like me are swimming between the waves and lies to make livings. But I feel disguised.

Talking to the big guy of professional service from San Francisco, he has been bred and raised in technology since long ago. He mentioned Steve Job who has the miraculous charisma to his followers. As a example, Steve once lured the CEO from Pepsi (or Coca Cola? Don't remember) to work for him "Do you want to change the world or selling soda water?"

Are we changing the world? Or we just convince ourselves that we are?

The Eagle has Landed

I shocked many people when asked who is my favorite actor, my answer is Michael Caine. There is no other reason, not because of his acting ability or anything, it is simply because he is good looking. The classic Anglo Saxon look, cold blue eyes and slim lips, pretty cool.

I have officially moved to Tokyo, trying to find my own flat before being kicked out of corporate apartment in Ginza. Life suddenly became very neat and clean. I spot one guy spitting on the street today before meeting the estate agent, I almost wanted to run over and give him a slap. Do you know how much I sacrifice to come to a no-one-spitting environment? Why are you ruinning it?

Looking for a flat is not a easy thing, given that the rental prices are very high in the city. But I am prepared to live in the closet size apartment. I even called my mom to get some backup on my decision to live in the small apartment. My mom was much patient and understanding (I later think that she is just trying to please me, let the conversation ran into the stream I favored), and gave me 100% support. Citing from the little flat she used to share with 4 other brothers and my grandmom in Hong Kong, she reckond I am having a very good deal.

I will have up to end of this week to find my residence for the next year, time is running short.

Man are Natrurally Shy?

Sometimes I think my blog is almost like the log of XiaoHo's growing history. I cannot help but discover a lot of interesting way of seeing things from his eyes. Perhaps that's part of the fun of parenting?

XiaoHo always likes to play cool, even after my mom came back from a week's trip in Hong Kong, he would refrain himself from breaking down but kept playing his toys as if he's not seen NaiNai had turned up. He would then inched close to my mom, got warmed up slowly and the melted on her laps.

One time Grace told me that she was really angry with XiaoHo then she said "I am not going to talk to you ever". After a couple of second silence, XiaoHo asked "OK then, we are not going to talk to each other forever from now on?". Grace had calmed down then started to decode XiaoHo's statement, yeah, XiaoHo didn't realise that he's made Grace angry yet he is trying to please her thus the agreeing statement.

I-lan is really getting old

Meeting up with my U Waterloo friends in Hong Kong. In fact we were housemates at one point of time. It's been almost 6 years we haven't seen each other. That's really something....

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I was stroking I-lan while sitting in the small bench in the balcony and found the huge bug in his right eye lid. Geez... That's the blood sucking lice. The female ones can grow as big as your pinky figer nail, grey and puff with blood. It is very hard to get them off, since they bite into the skin, pulling them off forcefully (due to extreme disguistion) often results in tearing off a piece of meat or skin from your beloved pet. I-lan was bleeding after I pull the female bug off his eye lid, I felt so sad about it.

I aslo found a group of male bugs reside inside I-lan's ear, I cannot stop the urge to ge them all off, although knowing there might be other thousands eggs laid in the hair shafts. My dad came around to see his best friend, mumbling that he didn't know that I-lan was infected because of his poor eyesight. I asked for a container to store those lices, he gave me his astray and vowed the lices will not ever get out of it because he is going to deal with them later. I did my best to clean I-lan's both ears, he is not very happy that I am using my eyebrow twiser working my way through. Yet, I get them all out, I hope. We still need to bath I-lan with the medicien to kill those eggs, or at least, stop them from reproducing.

The next day when I was sitting in the living room, trying to finish my movie "the crying game", to my most horror, I saw the red little male dog lice crawling on the floor. I ran to the astray and found there were no lices in the tray. "Dad, I thought you have dealt with them already", my dad looked up from his newspaper with very sorry face "Oh, I forgot". The lices were all out at large, may have gone back to I-lan (or me, I squrried to the bathroom and wash my hair frantically).

I also noticed that I-lan's eyes are not as clear as before but having a light, greyish green cloud inside. He is losing his vision as my father told me. It is very sad. Is he aging happily?

Why is Sex Fun Part II

I was recommended the book "Naked Ape". The book suggested that the reason men are obssessive with breasts because it somehow resembles the rear end. Since all in animal kingdom seem to do it from behind, wow, that's so kinky. Suppose taping over the nipples and trying hard to create the cleavage would make woman more attractive?

Another theory that we usually find lips are sexy because they look like viginas sideways. However, how to explain I sometimes find men's lips sensual?

Yet I started to think understanding all these motivation and drives behind human behavior makes us happier? I mean, would that make us a better person at the end of the day?

Government Official, Farmer, Craftman and Business man

In the ancient China, these are the ranking of social status. The business men were viewed lowest amongst all yet the men who are educated enjoyed the highest rank.

I have thought about my father's family line, after the great culture revoluation, the family was broken apart. My grand father fled to Indonesia, left behind my grand mom and 5 young kids. The master of the household, my father's grand father, committed suicide to save himself from being insulted and tortured. My grand mom was selling blood to raise her kids, yet she couldn't take the hardship and got remarried (this is still supposed the dark side of our family's history, no one openly talked about it). My father risked his life, swam to Hong Kong and the rest of the family were struggling only to survive. In short, the family crumbled to pieces, my uncles denied they have any links to the family, they disassembled the family house and sold the bricks and woods for money. No one cares to carry the family name and has honor. My father is the only one who cares. strange?

I never had good impression about my father's family memebers, they are dishonest, greedy and ruthless in the name of survival. Yet there is nothing left in my father's family line. I mean, no one feels the obligation to prosper the name, I guess we are not going to do it either after my father passes away.

What is the key of a family's survival? I started to think that my father's grand father was the only one who was well-educated (studied law in Japan in early last century and became the followed Dr. Sun in Chinese revoluation). He didn't build the family value system and network of trust. Suppose a real robust and decent family should have more intensive netowrk of support from relatives/friends and a stronger family bonding induced by a united, centralised family teaching? It is hard to imagine this to happen in families without schooling and education? That's the way to make sure a family line can survive?

Serious Typhoon

My going away party in Beijing, this is Lanfang's coffee shop. Very good people I have worked with.

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My plane was not touching down smoothly yet I thought I was just unluckily having the bad pilot. Not until I was waiting for my mom in the pickup area than I realised it's windy and raining very hard.

The super Typhoon hit Taipei city the second day I arrived. My home was shaking, moving as the wind blew, really scary. I thought it might snap in half. Yet I was told it is a good thing that it moves around, otherwise the energy would be stored and built up large enough to crumble the building. I was really feeling dizzy at home, my headache was worse seeing my father standing against the big french window in the living room. "What's the matter, dad?" "The window is going to break" came reply. "That's not a solution to support the window with your back the whole day". I then helped to move the big bookshelf to the position against the window (my dad's knee is not doing well, can hardly walk without support these days), with a pillow in between as cusion. My mom came out and saw what we did with her living room, went completely ballistic. Oh well, I tried to console her better be safe than sorry.

The wind was so strong that our building was out of electricity for a while. The worse is that the lift is not in operation, getting down to ground floor would be challenging since my home is on the 19th floor. However, all these didn't stop me from going out. Grace, Kevin, XiaoHo and Grace's mom came to pick me up, my father was really not too happy to let me go out. He thinks it is so dangerous if anything falls while we are driving. As usual, we ignored him and proceeded as scheduled. Great day to go shopping, the shops are empty and the most amazing thing is that shops are still open!

Flying to the Moon and Back

I had taken another view of Hong Kong just recently. Feeling deeply guilty about how my resignation would screw up my manager, I agreed to spend my in-between-job vacation to help training my replacement. This was the first time I actually come to Hong Kong as a growu up, not tagging along with my mom and no relatives dimsum session, I am not even in Kowlong at all, I was lodging in the hotel next to Victoria square, over looking the harbour and going to work in the prestigeous Central.

The office is right next to the most exquistic shopping and business area in Hong Kong island. English is more frequently heard than Cantonese. Everyone is dressed in designer clothing (handbags alike), with the big-swing dick attitude. Out of blue I felt a bit scared and thought I might not be made for this. In fact, the fashion and prestige are both more on-the-surface than wall street, at least from my point of view. Yet you can still steal a glance of old colonial Hong Kong in the little street. Very fascinating and dynamic environment.

Perhaps I should re-work my wardrobe and stop using my plastic hello kitty bag?

Swim across Sun-Moon Lake

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I picked up Akiko from the airport at 10pm. It is really quite late, yet we had to drive another 3 hours to the mountain area so I can attend the swim in the morning. I was really sleepy during the drive, had to ask Akiko to keep talking to me. My weak mind and body often shut down around 11 pm. Along the way, I was still trying to spot the cute betel nut girl in transparent box for Akiko to take picture. That was the only excitment.

Grace came to greet us, I fell into deep, deep sleep right after my head touching down the pillow. When Grace woke me up around 5:30, I sadly felt it is so true the good time is always so short (however, I was the only one who had good sleep since Akiko, Grace and Kevin couldn't sleep the whole night).

I had no breakfast, drowned myself with 2 cups of coffee, refused to wear the wetsuit and jumped into the lake at 7:45. (We cheated our way into the first few batches to get into the water, pretending we were some other group... very bad. It would be better to get it over with soon before twenty thousand swimmers all jump in).

The water was cold and wavy. I started to feel dizzy, headache followed. I felt very much like to throw up but thinking I should better do it when I reach the other side. Also thinking I am the youngest in the group, should not lose out to other older guys. What's more important, there is a free lunch box for every swimmer. It didn't feel like a 3.3km swim, I reached over in little bit more than an hour and polished my lunch box before everyone else.

We took the boat ride back to where we started. In the boat, a friend said that he was stopping over in one of the floating platform for a break and saw a girl holding the rim of the platform, looking very troubled. He walked over and asked if he can help. The girl's face went red and the mid-age woman next to her said "Oh, it is really no big deal, she just cannot pee". Obviously it is not that easy to pee in water.

Uncomfortable to Live

Need a pretty picture to give the eyes a break.

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I have tried to think what is the thing making me uncomfortable to live in Beijing (or in China), I think the very huge factor is the feeling that you cannot trust anyone, with the same token, you are not trusted, either. Especially if you are Chinese, your trustworthness is seriously challenged if staying in the hotel in China.

The foreign chain hotels are somewhat less obvious, however, you are not greeted with broad smile in the breakfast room or reception counter as your caucasian-looking fellow guests. The breakfast room staff constantly wonder whether you are a sneak-in for free meal and the conceige would run after you if seeing you holding the hotel umbrella. The hotel is always assuming you are taking advantage of them, regardless big or small. If you think this is already bad, the local hotels are make you feel like it is their mercy not to ask you to put down $5000 deposit before letting you get the key to your room.

When checking out, the front desk would make a phone call to some secretly-hide person in your floor and ask him/her to quickly check your room if you have taken the TV set , lamp, fridge, toilet, etc., (I cannot think of anything good to take in the room). If the person is not responding or slow in action, the front desk personelle would stare at you with smile as if saying "yeah, we will clear your name of being a freaky theft in a few minute".

Full of Youself

I was reading a Chinese doctor’s website. He was about to publish a book which summarize his life-time experience and knowledge about Chinese medicine. I agree that his work is quite impressive, what I cannot understand is his tone.
He completely looked down the western medical theories and repeatedly alleged the western medical research and body check up (judging a person’s well being with a set of universal and standardized indices) simply kills people. He accused other doctors of murdering. In those articles, he sounded the only way to the ultimate truth. All health problems can be resolved if his instruction is followed. The self-inflation and self-endorsement in his writing is beyond my comprehension.

He might have saved a lot of live but there is no need to punish others who are also working toward the common goals. Who has given him such a confidence as if he has understood fully the natural rhythm of life? In spite of his medical knowledge, I think he is bloody shallow and narrow minded. If he stubbornly believes his way is the only way, will there be any other attempts to mix in others’ expertise into his knowledge stream? I cannot imagine he can outgrow himself from now on. Perhaps there is no need to outgrow for an old guy. Hey, I think it is damn boring to live that way until death.

I have observed some old men behave that way. Celebrities or not, they are quite successful in their own ways, yet unbelievably full of themselves. Perhaps the people around them praised them too much, too constantly, that they started to believe they are the only savior in the world (but believe me, they rarely do anything big apart from bragging about how BIG they are). Condemning others in the same fields seems the only way to make themselves more important.

Perhaps those successful and low-profiled are too secretive and discreet for others to observe. Yet I long for inspiration from them rather than those ego-manias.

Sex in the Hotel

I was woken up by my neighbor one night, a girl’s persistent and mundane moaning penetrated the wall and it was around 2 am. The rhythm sounded so uneventful, I cannot help but think that must be one hell of boring sex. I heard the heels walking out after the door closed. As I thought I am finally going to get some quietness, the guy started to snore. This might have a lot to do with the symmetric layout of the 2 adjacent rooms. My guess is that our beds were arranged head-to-head, separated a thin wall.

When meeting Mai the other day, I cannot help but raising the questions about how hotels deal with the fact that the guests do invite call girls into their rooms. Mai works for the prestigious 5 star hotel, and she said, the hotel does know what is going on and, though not encouraging, neither banning those in the premises. That’s the essential part of business. The rooms would be filled as long as the guests don’t cause any trouble. She mentioned some girls would come to the hotel with a roller in tow. That does inspire a lot of thoughts about what are inside the luggage. The hotel even deactivates the elevator keycard control, so that the guests don’t need to come to the lobby to fetch the girls.

The scary thing is that she alleged the hotels share a blacklist of guests. Some people were known to have SM or threesome (it is a mystery to me how hotels know what the guest is doing).

We are What We Eat

I am not a fussy eater although I think I know how to tell good restaurant from bad. But I always set my expectation at the moderated level, in order to avoid the disappointment. In Tokyo, the competition is so severe that every restauarant works toward perfection to distinguish themselves from peers. I haven't tried the top-grade Chinese or Malaysia or Vietnamese yet (the regular ones don't do very well). The safest bet is to go Japanese (however, Tokyo has very decent Italian and French, even the not-so-famous ones are good).

I was following my colleague on Friday night to look for a place to eat and drink. We had this trip a couple of months ago, even the order of restauarnt we checked, and got turned down were identical. The restaurants were definitely not the chain stores (although I think those izakaya or yakitori chain stores in Tokyo are really good, at least you get what you expect), those were the quiet, elegant, indepedent eateries in Kagrurasaka area. We were sent out by the apologetic waiter without exception, they were all fully-booked on Friday night.

I think when you reach certain age (or stage of life), what you eat and where you eat have turned into part of your life style. It also explains to the world about what you are. That's why my colleague refused the chain store? (At the end, we had no choice but going to one of those, the distaste surfaces on his face).

I am getting very picky about beer recently, I started to realise non of the bottled beer has fine-enough bubbles yet they don't taste fresh at all. Suppose the beer is not chilled properly or even if the beer glass is not frosty, basically this is a beer not worth drinking.

Some experiment carried on blind tasting of the same wine in ordinary wine glass and extremely fine, delicate wine glass. 99% of the time, the blindfolded drinkers were tricked to think the fine glass carries a higher graded wine.

The line between oridinary food and excellent foods is extermely fine, the same ingredients might produced differenet results only due to very small deviations the ways foods are prepared or served. Getting old is great that you are bounded to get more picky and fussy, we call that developed tasted.

What Makes You Want to Poo

I am always curious how laxative makes us want to poo. The western medicine laxatives has many forms, such as to simulate the intestine mucosa, to penetrate stool with more fat and water, to tell intestines not to obsorb water thus hydrate the stool, or to bulk build stool with more fibre.

The Chinese medicine thinks the lung and large intestine are linked. Dr. Lin once told me a case about a nonstop coughing child. After drinking the herb medicine, the child's mother called Dr. Lin with furious voice. "My child was having the diarrhea, the watery feces was all black and stinky!". The doctor then asked "How about his coughing?" The mother replied "Ur..., it's stopped.".

Dr. Lin explained this case examplify the reverse of "Lifting the teapot cap and the tea starts to flow". The cough was induced by congested intestines, once the debris clears up, the "chi" or whatever regains the movement.

Typhoon Came with me to Tokyo

The weather in Tokyo was dramatically different from Beijing, it is humid and sticky, typhoon is coming in town. I had very fond memory about Typhoon in my childhood. Every kid preyed hard the school would be closed the next day. We listened to the news intensively, anxiety level rose as the newscaster annonced one prefecture's school close after another.

Sometimes the weather man was wrong about the gust wind speed the night before, we would have got a beaudiful day when waking up in the morning, and then jumped out to the streets and met up with other equally excited kids in the park. Or if the weather was really too bad, the wind blew up the trees in parks and nonstop rainfall created the flooding, blockout followed, kids could have great time, too. We played with candles in the night when there was no TV but battery powered radio. When the wind and rain died down, we ran to the flooded street, trying to build any floating device with whatever handy (and tried to stand or sit in it). Of course, parents only found out that we were playing in the worse hygene nightmare a few hours later (maybe they were busy bucketing out water or whatsoever), came calling us home and sprayed the sterilizer all over us. Ha ha ha, that was quite fun.

Going back to school after the typhoon vacation was not that fun, we had to clean up the mud-filled classrooms (where the tables and chairs were all disarrayed). And the worse part was the not-very-creative writing class teacher would ask us to write something about Typhoon among all other zillions brilliant ideas of writing.

6 Weeks Away from a Wash Machine

The chipmunks in Lake Louise are very aggresive. Armed with the cute look and gesture (standing with their hind legs with tiny hands folding in front of the chest), they are ruthless mockers. We were sitting at the picnic table, happily devouring the brilliant cheese and bagel, the little devil jumped to our laps, climbed to the table top via our racksack, grapped the peanut butter-crackers package as if there is no one looking.

I immediately associated them with Stephen King's story about a devil squirrel, didn't want to touch them but screamed like a little girl. The squirrel ran away with the peanut butter spread.
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My scheduled project in Taipei was cancelled due to an unexpected Merge and Acquision on the client's side. I then am shipped to Tokyo to help out with another project (I feel deeply sorry for people who follow up my work, I didn't document it very well). My laundry has built up like a volcano waiting to explode. My mom would better handle them if I am home today, :'(.
The first thing I do after arriving the hotel in Tokyo is to put on my plastic gloves (please see my previous post, hotel survival guide) and started hand wash my laundry.

Although we do have allowance for cleaning clothes, like 50 bucks a week, I feel stupid to spend more than the money to purchase my socks to get them washed. Laundry detergent is really amazing, simple steps of soaking and rubbing yield the muddy water with unidentifiable sediments floating on surface. That is very satisfying, hey, I am getting something clean! Rinse, twist dry and hang actually are not that fun, however, cannot be avoided.

Have heard a dirty joke (don't know why I was reading a lot dirty jokes in my youth, have studied most of existing dirty jokes and can immediately recognise any variation of them before the punch line comes up). A couple nickname love making with "doing laundry". One day the guy requested the emergency laundry handling and the girl was busy. When she got around to the guy, he said he has done the handwash.

The Love of a Mother to a Son

Pay attention to the shadow, that's me!

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In my long haul flight to Vancouver, there was a pair of mother and son sitting next to me. The mother looks in her early forties, but giggling like a high school girl while talking to her teenage son. I feel a bit sick seeing it, what is she doing without a mother's supposingly demeanor. Perhaps she is still seeing her adolescent son as a 3-year-old?

I have been thinking how a father/mother should act toward the daughter/son. Confucious teachings taught Chinese that boys and girls should not sit at the same mat since the age of 8. But he forgot to say much about parenting. I have seen cases where the controlling parents bonded together to treat their children as their belongings (parents decided what the children do and who they date, in the name of It-is-all-for-your-good). But nothing is freakier than the special bonding between the opposite sex of parents and children. The incest taboo is heavily encarved in every culture, perhaps that explains why we are so sensitive about it (or it is just me? Typing out the word "incest" is nearly enough to send the chill down my spine).

My father is not a stereotype Chinese father, in the sense that he likes to hug, kiss and even bite us. I was bitten in my forehead and chin as a child. It sure was weird but he was simply showing his passion. I put an end to all those in one winter morning. My father came to my room to wake me up, and I think he was trying to kiss his teenage daughter good morning while she was in bed. I went absolutely blister and kicked him off my bed as hard as I could. He was very hurt (maybe also physically?), and didn't talked to me for a while. We have never touched each other since and I don't regret it. Basically I don't like to have physical contact with anyone but my boy friend, I think. Sometimes the urge to touch someone might be induced by the need to form a quick bonding. This was observed in apes (check out the book "the apes in the offices). Pretty handy gesture for insecured people.

I have heard story that the daughter in law woke up in the middle of night seeing the mother in law sitting in the bed she shared with her husband, stroking her husband's hair and looking at him dreamily. Very revolting.

However, I think there might be less tension between me and my father if we had better handled this undeniable stress between father and growing-up daughter. Yet the other piece of advice to those control-freak parents, go get some life for yourself and stop being a boring person.

A Trap Inside Another Trap

I heard about this book from 2 difference sources. This novel is about the multi-national business operated in the blooming China, to be exact, Beijing. My reading mate suggested it a couple months ago, and yet, when being in Nanjing for a pre-sales meeting, our sales pre in Shanghai again mentioned this. I picked up the book in the bookstore in the airport, and finished it in one sitting.

The story begins with a middle-age Chinese, Wen, living in Boston, working for an IT company. His typical American middle-class life was challenged by his university friend, Jim, who works in the explosive IT business in Beijing. Is that the final picture of Wen’s career and live? Working in mid management, paying the mortgage and carrying on a non-surprising life in suburb Boston? Wen decided to come back to Beijing, to join Jim’s former company, ICE. Jim left the ICE to join VLC and Jim’s friend Yu took over Jim’s position in ICE. The sales cycle and implementation are very similar to what I am seeing in China.

The subtlety of dealing with a blonde manager who cannot speak a word of Chinese yet wants to get into Chinese market. The power struggle between those Chinese managers (how to bluff the high management outside of China better and win support). How to make yourself look good by eating down rival’s obnoxious attack and decelerate the damage. Also, the dark side of deal making between vendors and the customers. The salesmen work and penetrate the customer’s IT department and figure out how to make a deal with minimum sacrifice.

It is quite enjoyable read. Did I learn tricks out of it?

A Matter of Shaking Legs

Besides clipping nails in public, another habit that I cannot help to hate, that is shaking legs. I cannot figure out what is behind the mind of a person who tips on his/her toes and constantly shakes the leg muscles to create the small movement, up and down, up and down, up and down. The action can be observed in the movie theater, in a pub, or on airplane. As a neighbor to such a person, your seat begins to shake, like a super giant mobile phone is set to the vibration mode.

I think this is a sign of weak mind. This person couldn’t correctly position her/himself with the presence of other, feeling the insecurity, and don’t know where to place her/his limps. Uneasiness, nervousness and uncertainty are felt. Sometimes it happens to people who are excited. However, it is equally unacceptable.

Stop shaking!

The Wisdom of Housewife

My mom has a lot of not-very-glamour yet very practical everyday life tricks. When I was in Taiwan vacationing, I vowed to blind my eyes with the largest quantity of comic books (manga). There is no one to stop me from reading comic books now, regardless what ratings they are. The tricky bit is the comic book rental shop is hidden in the busy market street near the base of our mountain. It is simply impractical to go there by car, motorcycle is defintely a better choice. However, how to carry those books? My mom threw me her ugly shopping basket, which can fit greatly at the footrest between my legs. It is also easy to carry (if using the storage underneath the seat and the tiny basket, I need to distribute the books to those 2 locations, collected them to another bag when I arrive home), Although I look so much like middle age woman in shorts and slippers with the huge grocery basket.

Checking into her lunch bag, she has a small tupperware containing tissue papers. It is easier to retrieve. An old juicer's filter has became her coffee filter. Some of the culinaries in my home were used for more than 30 years. She rarely spent any money in buying sets of cookware or dinnerware, yet we always have meals with matching dishes and good quality rice bowls.

Our duvets and pillows were 100% cotton, enjoyed seasonal sunbathing and re-puffing (we sent them to the duvet shop who can puff up the cotton with some machine). I still couldn't get used to the any other cotton in my pillow.

We don't have expensive furnitures (XiaoHo made various drawing on the sofa anyways, now it is my nephew's turn). But nothing is excessive. The only thing she demanded is storage space.

The Day Market Crashes

Dried Mushroom
Dried Shrimps
Huge Radish

Dicing them up
which takes forever
Fried them in wok

Mixed in threaded

radish in Wok (it also takes ages to do)

Mixed in the rice powder, the chopsticks got heavier
Mixed in the rice
Steam the mushy mixture

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I consider myself a savvy investor, I like to collect financial products from stocks, savings to mutual funds. I also like to spread my investment over different regions and currencies. It is kinda fun to management them with a excel spreadsheet.

Of course, the performance doesn't always go north, I have got stuck with a loser stock for over 4 years (still not getting out). The other failure came just last 2 weeks. With the extraordinarily low transaction fee, I have got myself into positions of some strange mutual funds... Then the market crashes 2 weeks in a row. Neverrtheless, it is better to take risk now than later.

Telemarketer

I was getting a phone call from a Telemarketer, she said "Execuse me, Miss, I need half minute of your time. Which is more important for Beijing Olympic game in your opinion, traffic improvement or the people's politeness?". I replied "Sorry, I am really busy..." Then she hang up on me without a word.

Career Advancement

The new professional service group director came to Beijing to give us a talk, and drawed the rosy picture of how our career will grow within this company according to his planing. More trainings in both technical and soft skills. I do agree with him that the soft skills are far more important than the techincal ones. Such as how well a consultant can effectively communicate and negotiate with the clients while look professional.

However, I am quite curious how these soft kills are be trained? It has a lot to do with the consultant's personality, good consultants simply grow by trial and error.

Coming back to Beijing

I am back to Beijing for a couple of weeks, to finish off my work for the Beijing client and submit my resignation. I am still not feeling easy when walking on the street between the hotel and the office. The hotel is great (actually, the best among all hotels I've stayed over my crazy traveling for the past year) but the breakfast room service staff is just still not up to the standard. They greet you without looking into your eyes, and the gesture of showing where you seat is simply not sincere (as if they are annoyed that you have come to the breakfast and bring them enomous trouble). Is it so hard to train the wait staff to be polite, earnest yet not showing the flattering face?

Swimming Pool

Carol, Mankit and my newborn nephew. Visiting baby in the after-birth care center is very boring. The baby only eats, sleep and poo. I got bored all the time and needed to go out for fresh air (and foods) everytime I went.

The after-birth care center is something very special in Taiwan. The newborn and mom would spend a month or so in the hotel-like facility. There are nurses and doctor to help caring for the baby and teaching the mom how to breastfeed and bath the baby. In Chinese tradition, it is very important to care for the new mom very well (if the husband's family doesn't do it, the wife's family will complain for the rest of their life). She is not allowed to wash her hair or shower (fear of contracting cold). She has to eat a lot of super nutritious foods so to recover well and produce milk. Staying in the center is a way of giving grand parents' a break.

However, you see more blue blankets in the baby rooms and less pink. I was told that those moms who have given birth to boys have better chance to stay in the expensive after-birth care center.

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I started my daily swimming routine last week. My chronic allergy has been showing sights of improving. The eczema is also getting better (the trick is to wash my face carefully and apply small quantity of steroid cream when spotting early sign of eczema attack. The deadly cream effectively stops the spread). Besides, I need to get trained for my long swim in the Sun-Moon lake at end of September.

Going back to my home in Lotus Hill, there is a pretty nice gym in the center of the complex. I signed up for a one-month membership and started my 1000 meter daily swim. It was really painful the first few days. My arm muscles were sore and I needed to apply muscle pain relief patches. However, it is nice type of pain and soreness. How much I miss swimming.

I guess my stamina and style was pretty good when swimming, I scared away people sharing the lane with me. The guy swimming in the next lane started chatting with me. We briefly introduced ourselves to each other and I found that he has worked or studied in most of the countries I ever stayed before. Very interesting, so I asked if he would like to have a drink or coffee sometimes. He only seemed too eager to agree. He left me his phone number yet I only gave out my MSN contact. I figured the guy should not be dangerous since people living in Lotus Hill are generally quite well-educated and decent.

The following few days I didn’t have a chance to get on line, so I text messaged the guy on Friday to see if he would like to come out for a drink after my dinner with Peggy. Peggy didn’t want to come to the drink, so I met with the guy alone in the most busy and trendy district in Taipei. We chatted and I found that he is teaching in some university and he is in his 40s. Although he English is very broken, I didn’t place a doubt of the authenticity of his stories (Master degree in Belgium and PhD degree in Manchester). He then proposed that we go to another pub in the same area. However, the pub was blaring the eardrum hurting music. I think I know some better place, which suits my age better.

My small pub in a quite street features various single-malt whisky, I felt so much at home. The bartender pays much attention to shave up the crystal clear ice which almost smugly fit into a good quality whisky glass. The ambiance is quiet and mature, relaxing. How much I love good single-malt whisky. The guy obviously has no idea what he is drinking (what a waste for someone who’s lived in UK), and to make the matter worse, I think he is getting drunk because he started to say I look very sexy and put his dirty hands around my shoulder and waist.

I was really shocked and embarrassed, pushing him away and the persistent dirty hands came around again and again. Even the bartender felt my uneasiness, kept staring at the guy and eyed me if I need help. This is really beyond my comprehension and I had no idea how I should react. I politely pushed the beast’s hand away, drank up and walked out the door. He followed me out of the pub. I was getting into a cab and I let him get in the cab, thinking since we all live in the same area, it is not too much trouble to give him a ride (stupid me, I should just jump in and shut the door, someone please tell me why I was so brainless? That must be the damn alcohol).

I had no courage to go swimming in the gym the next few days. Even going breakfast to the little coffee shop requires camouflage (I put on my eye glasses with messy hair). At the same time, my mobile phone was bombarded by non-stop phone calls and text message. I feel very sick. Perhaps I should learn how not to be nice. I was invited to dine and drink with strangers many times yet none of those ended up like this. I am really too naïve like Grace suggested?
My mom volunteered to pick up the phone calls for me, and my brother thinks he should send Ilan to bite his balls off. Ilan will certainly do the job very well. I miss Ilan.

Good Bye Tokyo Office

Deciding to leave my current company, I guess I would not return to Tokyo office, therefore, I organized a going-away drink for myself when I was in Tokyo. I worked in Tokyo office almost every other 2 weeks since last November, Tokyo office staff seem closer to me then Beijing office staff. We had lunch/dinner together almost all the time (maybe this has a lot to do with the abundance of choices of restaurants in Tokyo). We drink, talk about politics, office gossips, Japanese culture. I traveled with the office to hot spring and Nikko.

My going away drink was in the outdoor beer garden, the weather was hot and humid. Almost all people in the office came. The conversation topic was about principle and money making. If your action is not morally correct, but that could bring financial benefit, would you do it? People gave different answer, but most people questioned the ruler to measure correctness. We then went to a small Italian restaurant, sample almost every bottle of wine the restaurant possesses.
It is very sad that I will stop working with those nice people. I haven’t felt that way for a very long time.

First Day in School

XiaoHo finally started to go to school. In fact, he was supposed to go to kindergarten after Chinese New Year. However, Grace and XiaoHo kept sleeping in and missed the school bus every morning, they postponed the first school day again and again. (They were just hanging out in bed, talking nonsense until lunch time… Gee…). The first week was chaotic, XiaoHo begged not to be sent to school. When Grace drove close to the kindergarten, XiaoHo pleaded “Mom, please just drive pass the entrance.”.

Gradually, XiaoHo accepted the fact that no matter now much he pleads and cries, nothing is going to change. Actually, Grace was crying at home as well. There is no more excuse to lay in bed until lunch time.

XiaoHo seems enjoying school quite well now. One day when he walked into the classroom with Grace and saw the new kids coming in screaming and kicking. He turned around to Grace and said with determination “Mommy, you can go now.”

Life in kindergarten is military. The teacher instructs those 3 years old to queue up for everything, going in/getting out the classroom, drinking water, going pee, etc. Grace came to pick up XiaoHo and, can hardly control her emotion in seeing XiaoHo after 6 hours of separation, she gave XiaoHo a big and long hug. When she opened her eyes, she found out there is a queue after XiaoHo. She then had to hug the whole class one by one.