Pastime Reading

I am crazily downloading the free books from internet, reading averagely 2 books a day. Most of them are detective stories, I favor Japanese writers' work. However, most of them are really old (the writers were born around 1930, pre-war Japan). These are all Chinese translations. I rarely read novels in English, the sticking factor is just somewhat lower than Chinese ones. I think Chinese is still the most comfortable reading materials for me, perhaps all the English writings draw me back to the studying for exams experience.

It is so amazing how badly written some novels are. The logics do not seem right and you can spot the inconsistency so easily. How they got the book published is really a mystery to me. Regardless, it is still my entertainment most of the nights after work (refuse to go drinking with my colleagues, partly because I hate the public transportation - I live in the country side and most of the partying places are in central amsterdam... And partly because I am really exhausted after the whole day of work. It is just better to spend an hour in the gym, sweating for an hour then take a hot shower, um, I think this is more relaxing).

I innocently downloaded a book by Suzuki Koji, the Chinese name of the book is "the fairy tales of 7 nights". It sounded interesting, I am expecting someone being killed and some smart detective came out to solve the mystery. The story began with 4 young folks died for no reason and the journalist vowed to get to the bottom of it. The story unfoled into a strange sort of answers, totally illogical and inconsistent (I still cannot understand why the powerful spirit hated the media so much but killed herself before she can avenge this grave insult to her and her parents). Nevertheless, Suzuki is very skillful writer, the horror was woven in slowly, tension raised, and I cannot sleep at night with all the lights shut.

Perhaps human beings are built to fear, fear the unknown, fear the uncertain and the unpredictable. Horror story writers deftly stir up the vivid imaginations, the horrifying images arose from your bottom of heart.

Birthday Party

party ...

party more ...

party square ...

I personally never think birthday is a day worth celebrating at all, but I guess this is one of the most-have of human social activities (imagine, without it, we don't really have execuse to party). But why birthday? I hate to be the center of attention. I'd rather hide in the corner and drink like Great Gatsby.

I declined every drink/dinner/party invitation, I don't even go lunch with anyone in the office, I prefer stay home and read. As I get old, I become less amiable and friendly toward colleagus. I am more into being alone, I go to the gym alone, rollerblade alone, eat alone, and drink alone. I think I am going to lose the ability to talk to people soon. Making the project successful is my top piority, why should I spend time making friends. Oh my god, I am turning into a really awful person and the worse of all is that I don't see it as a problem.

I was dragged into the social event on Wednesday night. It was held in a bowling alley and surprisingly I had so much fun. I don't think I have ever touched a bowling ball since I left Toronto, surprisingly, I did pretty alright after the first game. Sports is so fun than just drinking yourself silly. The dinner was alright, trying hard to make conversation with people sitting next to me, but due to the fact I haven't been talking to these people socially much before, conversation dried up pretty quickly. Ha ha, I am old enough not to feel ackward, I just kept eating.

The dancing was also pretty fun, people hanging around the dancing floor that relaxing atmorsphere sort of making me feel very high, gee, the last time I was on the dance floor must be ages. I was told that I surprised everyone that I can party like that. I fell asleep on the way home, the jetlag is really killing me. Wabbly bicyling home from the coach stop, happy birthday to myself.

Dutch Project

Perhaps this bank is not really an investment bank, not sure why people I have met in the bank are really relaxing. One of the bank managers, the decision maker didn't turn up on Friday, I was like, hello, where is he? His colleagues told me oh, that's Daddy's day. He doesn't work on Friday. What is the deal? Because Dutch law says you can only work 35 hours a week, if he's put in more than 9 hours a day Monday through Thursday, he is forbidden to work on Friday.

I was speechless, gee, go-live critical issue, deadline is pressing, and the decision maker has gone home for the day (oh no, he simply just doesn't turn up). This is even worse than the central monetary control bank in communist Beijing. Things like this occur from time to time. One week before the parallel run, the environment team out of blue found out there is no support procedure, i.e., no one is really monitoring the overnight batch run (PS1). I was again speechless, isn't that part of environment teams' responsibilities?

Even during the parallel run, the batch job has failed during the night, no one really know who they should call and how they can handle the situation. They have to get in touch with me because no one really understand my design of the system and how the core system bridges to other upstream/downstream systems (although I tried my best to document everything, no one can be bothered to read them). I am just overwhelmed. This is the most unorganized project I ever worked for, though I have so many managers, I am the only foot solder doing the dirty work.

Frustrating, but the bank manager bribed me to stay with them with a bottle of 18 year highland park. Damn, that's really delicious.

Hotel Survival Guide (4)

This is the 4th episode of my hotel survivial guide. Actually, I was put into a very nice service apartment in Amstelveen during my stay in Netherlands. Many of my colleagues urge me to move to the party town, central Amsterdam. But I just see no benefit of doing so. I quite enjoy not partying, I read and spend long time sleeping after work. Amstelveen is a quite residential area, staying in the high floor, through the window, I can see the whole Amstel river area and the flatness of farmlands to miles.

This establishment has 300+ rooms and it is normally filled. The hotel management throw monthly party, through which I realise there are tons of consultants shipped from India for ABN AMRO, ING (We are going to talk about the inefficiency of bank IT project in the future). Another interesting thing is that many Korean or Japanese companies set up their European operation centers this area as well. I guess it has a lot to do with the easy-goingness of Dutch and Dutch tax law.

I had the agreement with the bank to have a 6 week 2 week roation if they would like to engage my service. Every time I check out of the apartment, I left some of my kitchen stuff, bicycle and rollerblades with them, await for my next return. So far it works out alright. The problem is that you don't really get the same flat every time returning to the service apartment. One day I came back from work exhausted, my mind was really occupied and I duly climbed up to the first floor and tried to unlock the door with my cardkey. Damn, it didn't work. I spent a couple seconds thinking what's wrong with my key then I realised, shit, I was moved to the 5th floor.

Similar thing happened before, I was checked into a nice hotel in Melbourne, after the super long flight (I think I was flying from Beijing, transiting via ShangHai, and the flight was delayed for 3 hours, the total travel time is about 20 hours). I was so tired and hungry, after dropping my bags I ran out to get foods. when I returned, I tried really really hard to think what's my room number. I remember the floor but not the room number. I didn't really want to spend any energy to get down to the front desk (also really embarrassed), I came up with a brilliant idea, I am going to try my key with every single door on the floor, ha, there were only 20+, I think I should be lucky enough to get it before half of them ran out.

I wasn't that lucky, also, I was afraid to be spot by other guests. I had to get down to the front desk, asking for my room number which they only gave me 30 minutes beforehand.

I am more tired than I thought

Continuing the weekend working scheduled since I came back to Amsterdam in early September, I found that I was really burned. I couldn't sleep well at night and weak up late in the morning. Coming back from work this afternoon, I felt dizzy and headache and rolled to the bed and passed out for 4 hours on Saturday afternoon. Ah, very much needed rest, it is the raining season in Amsterdam, I cannot go rollerblading...

Cutting into the flesh

I am very environmental friendly and always paying attention to what people do with the recyclable materials in every city I live. Amsterdam is obviously not very good (London is worse, I witnessed the pub dumped the whole trash can worth of glass bottles into dumpster), the recycle bin is very far away from every house, people do not have good incentive to recycle anything. Never mention the steel or aluminium cans, no one really recycle them. The cleaning lady simply put everything into the big garbage bin.

I purposely hide the glass bottles, thinking that's the only small thing I can do to help the environment. I bike to the recycle center once every couple weeks to put the glassy stuff into the right bin (my Ducth is really improving, I can recognize which one is for paper, and which one is for glasses). I broke a salad bowl the other day (for those kitchenware surviving me for over 2 weeks, you shoud aware them). The salad bowl was still in a shape, but with cracks all over.

When I reached the recycle bin, I dumped a couple bottles into the small opening without problem, but the salad bowl is too big to fit in. So I smashed it on the floor, finally, it had broken into 3 manageable sizes. Picking up the big pieces, my left hand was holding the stupid heavy plastic blocking the opening, and the sharp edge cut into the back of my left hand. The edge was so sharp that I didn't feel any pain, I thought I even heard the small "pohk" sound when the sharp edge breaking into my flesh. The wound is about 2 cm wide, the cut is very clean, the blood didn't rush out until a couple seconds later. What an interesting cut, the blood kept running but I didn't feel it at all, I guess I was more annoyed by the fact that the blood would stain my jacket or something. Also I am annoyed by the fact that there might be a scar left.

Thinking anyone commit suicide by slitting the wist or throat open?

Going Home (2)

Toward the weekend, I can hang out with my mom and Sandy. We went to visit Grace and Kevin's home in Taichung, on the way to Taichung, picking up uncle Thomas and Sandy. Non stop eating is the preparation for our surfing trip in WaiAu the next day.

I was suppose to wake up at 4am but overslept. Reaching the beach around 6am, it is already crowded with surfers. The waves were excellent after typhoon, clean and aligned nicely., I guess it should be ok for beginners like me. Sandy was trying to use her charm to give me a free surf board, oh well, I refused her good will and duly paid for my board (as I aged, I understand that free stuff usually turns out to be the most expensive). A bit disappointed that the surf board rental shop couldn't send someone to go to the waves with me (I guess I am not as cute as my cousin, and the side effect of getting old is that you don't really want to be miss congeniality under all circumstances, ha ha ha) since the waves looked really scary (they told me they had 2 broken board yesterday).

Putting on the wet suite (I was told the waves was too strong, my bikkini might be washed away) and run to the waves, paddling really hard to get out. It really takes some practice, you have to know when to paddle and when to keep still. I rode a couple of very good waves and drank some mouthful of sea water. Feeling really thirsty, I decided to get back to the shore to take a break. While taking off the wetsuite, I didn't realise my bikini had moved around and my right nipple was completely visible. Oh shit, I put it back to the right position and pretend nothing has happened.

While I was enjoying the waves, the worse thing had happened, my period came. Although I had stuff a tampon hoping for the best (I have waited for the whole week for this surfing...), but the sea water had found its way into my body... And came back out while I left the water. Too embarrassing to stay on (I am really puzzled why I should feel embarrassed, perhaps that's the animal instinct thinking I am dirtying the environment?), I had no choice but packing up and drove home. What a timing.

Going Home (1)

I flew back home and was greeted by non-stop rain for the first 3 days. That wasn't too bad, at least the temperature was pleasant. Spending time in Taipei is always like this: sleep, eat, shop for esentials for my next long excursion away from home, run some errands for my mom (she is so tighted up with my nephew, Golden Pig. A simple task such as my mom's visiting doctor requires full logistic planning. If I am not around, my mom would take the bus to the city center with 2-year old Golden Pig, time the bus schedule so well that my sister in law would jump onto the same bus after work to take over the kid so that my mom is freed to visit her doctor...), have hair cut, get my nails done, go swimming during the day, hang out with Grace, Kevin and XiaoHo for dinner.

The only problem is to have group dinner, if I invite my dad, most people won't turn up. The only solution is to eat in the same restaurant twice. Anyhow, my dad is so happy to be taken out for dinner. He sneaked in the restaurant with a bottle of single malt scotch I bought. We ate, drank and took the taxi home (what a luxurious act... I think the number of times for us to take taxi in Taipei can be counted with my fingers).

My dad is actually a very cute person, though most of the time he is very annoying (I guess he is just very clumsy in expressing himself). His habbit of taking the less capable (including human beings and animals) under his wings pissed off my mom greatly. His recent trophy is a young pigeon. THe pigeon is very strange, he comes every day around 9am and leaves around 4pm. He is not afraid of being touched by anyone in our household. One time, I-lang opened the screen door (with his nose), and the pigeon came into our living room. My mom came back home while my dad was not around (thank god, otherwise there would be a good yelling match) seeing the pigeon walking on her dinning table, she went blistered, caught the pigeon (without any resistence) and so furious, she said to me, she almost wanted to break the pigeon's neck.

She couldn't do it, instead, she tangled the pigeon's wings and threw him over the balcony. It took the pigeon a while to untangle his wings and flapping against the gravity. He still reports to our house 9am every morning.

My dad said that one time he was watching Discovery channel, and the pigeon was hanging out and watching TV with him. One of the scene was a eagle diving down from the sky in the screen, and the pigeon thought that was real, hurrily making his escape and bumped into the glass window. That was really funny.

Shower in the Dark

When returning to my small flat in Tokyo after the 11-hour journey, I was still hoping that Tokyo electricity company would show some mercy not cutting out my power supply (I only missed the payment for June, but I did pay for July and the direct deposit has been set up from August onward).

I was indeed too naive, over-estimated the flexibility of Japanese company (why they couldn't pay off the outstanding June balance with the July payment?). I first cleared out the stuffy mail box and found 8 angry payment request mails. Gee, that's not good. Opening my door, the automatic light in the interlock didn't lit up, shit, they really cut out the electricity. I had shut down my fridge, even the washlet when I left for Amsterdam 8 weeks ago, shutting down the electricity didn't really cause me too much trouble. I try to comfort myself...

It was Sunday that I landed, although I really want to make the payment, I have to go to one of their branches to sort out the payment on business hours, which is only available on Monday to Friday, 8am to 5pm.

Life without electricity is not too bad when there is daylight to show me the way around my apartment, the only problem is to take a shower in the dark bathroom. I ran out to buy the flashlight, carefully positioning it in my bathroom, I took a shower in the dim. I was actually cracking up, this is such an interesting experience. If there is anything, I think that's the shame I felt about not to pay my bills on time (believe me, that's really stressful), pondering what I should do tomorrow when paying off the bill. When the night falls, I used my hotpot stove to cook some hotwater and made the instane soup. Not a problem to fall asleep, there wasn't much to do.

How to Use Bicycle in Amsterdam

The picture is taken from earthlink
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In Amsterdam, bicycle is used as the transporation tool, you don't need to put on your funky and uncomfortable biking trousers with padding and halmets before jumping on the bike, you just go in the same outfit as you would appear in the office. Men dressed in suits with brief case (which was put away in the basket in front), ladies with heels and short skirts, mothers/fathers with 2 kids in front trolley, you see them all.

Biking is rather relaxing in a way, you are not competing with anyone to get anywhere fast, you just go, as natural as walking. That's something about Dutch, they are never paranoid, to be honest, I haven't seen anyone wearing halmets in the city.

Dutch has also invented a lot of way of riding a bicycle, one day I saw a guy riding a bike, with his girl sitting behind, what's unsual is that she is holding a shopping trolley. Oh man, that's so convenient. You don't even need to worry about your basket is not big enough for your weekly shopping.

You can also see sometimes a guy riding a bicycle while holding another one. That's really a technique! Not thinking the guy is trying to show off or something, that's really practical. Imagining if you are going to a bike shop picking up your bike?

Great Dim Sum in Amsterdam

This is my favorite pic in Cathy's wedding. She didn't spend money doing the salon style wedding pictures (The type the bride put on heavy make-up. My guess is that all little girls have the dream to become a movie star once in their life, wedding day of course is the best occasion to do it. Somehow that is very popular among Chinese newly weds). In her wedding, the professional photographer quietly standing aside clicking away his camera while everything is happening.
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After being very diappointed in the NanTin near Waterlooplein, I challenged another Cantonese DimSum restaurant at the edge of redlight district. Again, I have found a couple of victims from our project group (it is impossible to taste so many dishes by myself, besides, DimSum is not made for single diner).

I cheerfully rode my bicycle to Amsterdam on bright sunny Saturday morning, planning I am going to pick up 2 colleagues separately. As I rode long the road, listening to my favorite music, an old guy playing harmonica riding next to me. He started speaking to me while both of us stopped before the red light. Very cheerful person, explaining he is a street performer, on his way to the weekly practice session with his band. He kept asking how old I am. I told him I am almost 40. But he didn't give up, he proposed "I think you look 17 years old but if you are 40, maybe you should be a girl friend of a 60 year old guy like me". Great start of the day, I think I am getting a bit self-esteem back.

I had a great laugh. While we split, "Have a great weekend", I said, and kept paddling toward the city. I picked up Tom, who in turn gave me ried on my bicycle, when to pick up MengChain from his hotel, 3 of us heading toward the oriental city just before noon.

The restaurant is empty because we arrived literally the moment they opened the door. We were sat in a desk right away. The main waiter is obviously very experienced (and he is the only one responsible of taking orders, that's unusual in a Chinese establishment of around 80 or 90 sittings). But I hope he doesn't sweat that much.... He gave us the pot of tea with geniun tea leaves (Nantin only gave us the luke warm tea with tea bags in it). The dipping sauces were all correct, one of the traditional ChowZhou spicy chily oil and two of the Red sweet chilly saurce with yellow Cantonese mastard.

I was so hungry and everything looked so delicious, I quickly ordered the food. When the saute raddish cake came to the table, I knew I was in the right place. It was freshly made, crispy outside and tender inside. The Cantonese style sausages were thinly sliced and hidden, you only taste the flavor but not too much the grease. I was a bit mischievious trying to challenging Tom's bottom line(Tom is a white guy, not particularly having the adventureous attitude toward Chinese foods), I order the steamed chicken feet with spare ribs. That was unexceptionally good, we even got Tom to take one of these. The CheungFun was also made to the very good standard. Silky and tendor transparent sheet made of rice, carefully wrapping around the thread duck meat and scallion. Cooked oil and soy sauce dressing made it shiny. We all loved this dish (I only wish I can order one more). We happily chatted and ate (I guess only me, I am so easily excited by good food). After the food, though there were people queuing up, the head waiter replaced the tea leaves and gave us a fresh pot of tea. What a service! (Maybe it doesn't mean much in Western restaurants, but to money making agressive Chinese restauranteurs, this is very exceptional).

The food is not as good as those I had in Toronto or Hong Kong, in terms of the ingredients or the processing (attention to details), however, this is one of the best Chinese meals I have for ages.

Sunny California (3)

I like, I like, I like single malt again...
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I again woke up in the middle of the night, tasting every edible item in the fridge, soaking myself in the sweet and warm memory of searching for foods in the fridges in my parents house in my childhood. The next day, we were scheduled to go to Napas, but god knows I am just happy to be around in the simple California household. Cathy insisted to drive me around the bay area, we crossed the mountain to high way 1, found a nice beach, ate the cherries we purchased on the way, and fell asleep on the beach listening to the waves.

We then went to the super market, I shamelessly asked Cathy to cook for me during my last night staying in Bay area. She cooked this fabulous stir fried clamps and steamed fish, both Mike and I were eating to our hearts' content. After dinner, we strolled along Palo Alto's downtown, sharing the yogurt ice cream, getting back to the car, my jetlag hit me so hard that I fell asleep the instance I buckled my seat belt.

Waking up on blue Monday, we went to the famous Olympic size swimming pool in Stanford, just 2 hours before my flight back to Amsterdam. Man, that was really awesome. I almost forgot how it feels to swim at a outdoor swimming pool. The sun was so strong (it was almost 90 degree that day), the cool and slightly salty water calmed down my burning skin, I moved forward effortlessly with my strokes, man, I think I will move back to California just for the pool.

I arrived in the airport just to enough time to check in and buy myself a bottle of Bowmore, flying home and pondering why I left California 8 years ago.

Midnight Bicycle

I threw a party in my apartment on Saturday evening, 3 colleagues came, complaining about why I live in such a remote area (2 of them live in central Amsterdam). But I really have no desire to live in the tourist filled, busy and noisy city center. I don't club, and do not really like to hang out in a pub, living in Amstelveen works just fine for me. The amstel river is only 10 minute away, rollerskating along the river listening to music has become the best thing to do after work. No need to worry about getting in the way of bicycle, poeple, trams, buses...

Anyhow, the party went well (at least they finished the food I prepared) and down with a dozen or so Heiniken, followed by wine, and my newly purchased Bowmore 12 years. In order to escort my guests to the Amstelveen city center to take the Tram No. 5, I took my bicycle, thinking I can walk them over and ride home afterward. Victor, who is also staying in the same apartment complex, suggested what we should all go to the pub in Amstelveen city center and have a drink before the last tram. He also took his bike out from the garage. Hey, why don't we all ride the bike? Tom rode my bike and I sat very uncomfortably at the back (the bike rack is not designed for sitting), while we were trying very hard to start up, Vic carrying Meng took over us in a very fast speed. Tom and I tried our best to keep our balance, wobbling along the quiet bike path, my butts were really hurting but it was really good fun, we shouted and laughed through the journey. We lost sight of Vic and Meng, but eventually saw them walking toward the station. Vic's bike was broken because his sports bike was not designed to carry any heavy weight in the back. The tire has deformed into a S shape.

Regardless, that didn't stop us to have another beer in the nice pub. Vic was a bit upset because his Sunday bike excursion plan is scatterd. After Tom and Meng went on the tram, I walked with Vic to pick up his bike. I looked at the tire and thought perhaps we can manage to put it back to a state that Vic at least can ride back home. Vic agreed that's a good idea, we held the bike flat on the ground, and he stepped on top of the tire, pushing pressure evenly on the tire. To our surprise, it actually came back to shape and is ok to ride. We laughed so loud like idiots, who would think this would work?

Sunny California (2)

I make Woody wearing the pink trousers... Side effect of going to gay pride parade in Amsterdam the week before.
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Everything in the wedding was arranged to the up most efficient way, it is very Cathy (and at the same time, she would say, ah, I am not sure if it is right this way, but interestingly, she is always right). The hotel is 20 minute drive away from Cathy and Mike's. They kept telling me it is very close, I guess, my perception of distance is quite different from Californians. The weather is again so nice, I felt the pain when the sun directly hit my skin. The lawn was green, sky blue, everything clean... Virtual reality.

Meeting up many old friends in the wedding, some of them have turned into parents, they actually look very adults. Sigh, I think our distance is not only geographical one, but maturity. I just cannot really think myself as a real adult. They sat down and started talking about everything related to kids, I can only think when I can jump into the pool and get tanned.

We went to the Hong Kong style restaurant at night, the other bride's maid, Wendy, flew in from Austin, where Chinese food is not really authentic. In my case, I have not had proper Cantonese seafood for ages. 2 other couples came along to the dinner, Cathy spoiled us by ordering 2 lobsters, and steamed fish, we were eating like pigs (um, only me). We have 2 vegeterians on the table, I was chewing out of the lobster meat and wondering why the hell they want to torture themselves that way. We ordered the egg fried rice for our vegetarian friends, and told the kitchen please do not put any meat. While everyone is enjoying the fried rice, Cathy and I found that there are some dried scallop threads and, oh my god, shark fin threads. Obviously, the kitchen wanted this to be a enhanced version of simple fried rice. Cathy and I quietly scoped out those into my bow, covered up the animal bits under the rice, I was so satisfied (oh yeah, I love greasy Chinese food, besides, this is my vacation, I can eat whatever I want to eat).

Sunny California (1)

Um, I thought I am not as tanned as Cathy...
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Flying 10 hours to San Francisco. I didn't remember that I do not need to fill up the I-94 form to get into US. Nevertheless, the immigration officer asked me why the country of my residence is Japan but I was flying in from Amsterdam. Um, I explained that I had a slightly longer commute to work. He gave me the sympathetic smile, I went through the immigration faster than most European passport holders. I have been away from US for really long time, perhaps 5+ year? It was a bit strange to see the easy-going immigration officers (perhaps it is the California thing?). With only one backpack, I literally dashed out of the custom right after.

Cathy mentioned she is going to sent Mike over to pick me up, I was a bit worried that I won't recognize him afterall, the last time we met was about 7 years ago. I had no Cathy's no mobile phone and no US dollars, ha ha ha, thinking I shall be able to figure something out if I miss out Mike. Luckily, he didn't change a bit.

Everything in the airport looked so familiar (used to run to the airport a lot to pick up, drop off, fly in/out). The traffic on 101 was still bad, the sun shined so much, 'til then I can focus a bit and realised I am back in town.

Reaching Cathy and Mike's home, wow, I think I have been living in a big city and cramping apartments for too long. It is so surprising to feel the space and pleasantness of a house with yards. Some of Cathy's friends were already around busy preparing the flowers, I was fed some fried rice noodles then joined the working force. Really not good at all in arranging the flowers nicely in a jar, I think the best service I provided is to entertain everyone by joking around. I hadn't had a good sleep for so many hours, I was losing focus again... Sleep deprivation is really a serious thing.

My memory was really blury, how we went to beauty salon to have our nails done and stuff. I think some friends came over to discuss the speech and affirmation stuff, I was so exhausted that I can only hold the big salad bow and chew the greens in front of TV mindedlessly (Cathy cooked enough vegetarian foods to feed the army, I was really curious to try her version of Cesear salad dressing, which contains various condiments, Western and Chinese, and a raw egg). Um, yummy, I managed to pull my tired body to the second floor at the proper time (they don't let me sleep in the name of correcting jetlag) and slept like a dead person.

Waking up around 3am, I ventured down to my favorite place in the house, the kitchen, and examined all edible items in the fridge. The fridge light lightened up the dark kitchen, seeing the solid filled fridge gave me a strange warm feeling. Ah, this is a proper home, not just a student or a single household residence. I ate the fruits and finally had the appetite for the ice cream (they were bragging about how fatty and delicious it was during dinner).

I ate and brushed my teeth again, fell into sleep once more, the air smelled the trees, lawns and some flowers.

Trapped in a Lift, had a terrible back pain and a swallon left eye

The sausage shop uses this device to chop up sausages into pieces, no cutting board, no knife, very efficient!
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I was trapped inside a lift first time in my life yesterday, the lift stopped abruptly when coming down from floor 12 to 11. Lights were on, but no buttons are responding. I started to remember the poor woman who was killed in the elevator accident in London, she was coming out of the lift innocently and the cable broke, I guess she was torn into 2 pieces. I shut the ishuffle, waiting, pondering what I should do to get help. A minute after, the life started moving again...

I came back from work feeling the strain in my back, not paying much attention but the pain got worse and worse during the night. I laid flat on the bed, but cannot move too much, every moment of my body instigate a new wave of pain from my neck to the upper back. Pain is a very strange thing, it actually stops you from moving because your brain instructs you not to afflict the pain although you do have the energy and ability to move.

Waking up with sore back, I walked to the bathroom, checking to see if my double eyelid has come back (they mysteriously disappeared a couple days ago). Oh My God, my left eyelid was swallon as if someone has given me a good punch. I even feel that I cannot see clearly from my left eye. I considered my options, should I wear glasses to cover up the swallon eye or should I use heavy make-up and wearing contacts as usual? I picked the later option, using a lot of eye liner trying to draw the balance eye size on both left and right... Couple hours later, the black colour all came down to my lower eyelid.

The FengShui in the apartment must be weired for me.

Do you need to have a stove to cook?

My fabulous apartment is brand new, all the appliance, kitchen wares were straight out of the package wrap, happy I was, only to realise the stove has no gas supply. I guess no one really tried to test the stove after the renovation was done. I was left with a beautiful 4-burner stove but cannot do anything with it.

The response from the management is to move me to another room, however, that room was facing west and a ugly construction site. I pleaded that I want to stay in my own flat but if they can let me use the other flat for cooking... Deal. I am in possession of 2 keys to our service apartment. The first night, I was so excited to try the new stove in the flat a floor above me, moving around in the hall way with my frying pans, oil, cardiments didn't feel too odd at all. After a couple tries when the excitement wore out, I started to wonder the if I can do something with the only powered cooking device in the flat.

Armed with 3 difference size baking pans (with lids), I started to experiment. Cooking rice is easy, the trick is to soak the rice overnight beforehand, using 450C super heat to cook for 10 minutes then let to simmer for another 10 minutes, perfect rice. Frying thin sliced pork with bamboo shoots is not difficult, either. With high heat to braise the finely chopped garlic for 5 minutes, then take the baking pan out, add in the marinated pork, stir well, stick the pan in for another 8 minutes with medien heat, take the pan out, adding the bamboo shoot slices for another 5 mins, Viola! I have a dish.

I even cooked the traditional Cantoese long-time stew soup in the oven, no problem at all. I am challenging the pasta cooking tonight, so far so good. The pasta was cooked al Dante in high heat for 10 minutes, quickly rinsing under cold water to let to chill, dry and store in fridge for tomorrow. The meat sauce was cook in similar fashion... I guess I can start to write a cook book with oven.

Super Workout Saturday

The apartment I live in the quiet outskirt neighborhood in Amsterdam. Surrounded by greens and parks. Spacious and quiet, ah, very relaxing. I like my apartment in central amsterdam as well but it was so cramped with personalities and charateristics. Nevertheless, I had to be constantly waried about traffic, people, bicycles, etc.

I spent the morning cooking myself a nice breakfast, read a bit and then went to the local community swimming pool in the light rain. It is very interesting that the changing area is co-ed, many young parents with children. 25 meter pool, I started to do my routine 32 labs with break every 8. Using the nose clip carefully, not suffuring too much after the allergy afterwards. It is also a delight to use the steam and sunna facility after returning to my apartment building... I feel spoiled.

In late afternoon, I biked to central Amsterdam (1 hour one way), hoping to get some good soy sauce and seasame oil from the Chinese shop. I didn't realise I had exhausted my muscle until returning home around 8pm, and dropped dead when my head hit the pillow. I slept for solid 11 hours, well, I guess my stamina is not as it was used to be.

Spent 2 weeks in Tokyo

Do you see anything in these fancy railings? Look carefully. Redlight district, Amsterdam
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I had 2 week working remotely for the Amsterdam bank in Tokyo. It is very nice to sort out all my mails and utility bills. Raining season, but not so hot yet. I still managed to bike to work in our office in Kojimachi. I have had a haircut the very next day I landed, going to the hair salon introduced by a friend, managed to use my broken Japanese to communicate, even chatted with the staff. The hair style is very short (I feel like a high school student again), the only problem is that I have to come back to the same hairdresser in 2 months. Ha ha ha ha. Every foreigner in Tokyo should have a set of Pimsleur's Japanese learning lessons.

One afternoon slightly after 5pm, the fire alarm sounded in our office and I was thinking, hey, not again, the fire drill is just kicking off in the very bad time. Wait a minute, it turned out there was indeed a fire in our building, everyone needed to evacuate from the building via the staircase. Unfortunately our office is in the 10th floor and I was wearing 3 inch heels. Anyhow, I limped down stairs and found that there were lines of firetrunks along our street, Shinjuku dori, both sides!! Fire marshals and firemen running around in full gears (hey, these firemen are not as sexy as those in TV!). I cannot even yet see any smoke or any signs of fire. But people gathering around our building, it is almost festival-like, very hard to leave and go home. Anyways, nothing is burned and no one is hurt, I biked home out of borden (no alcohol, no party).

I met with Mai, we went to the top floor pub in Park Hyatt, where the movie "Lost in Translation" was filmed. She is so well-connected in hotel business, they waved off the cover charge and sent us some free chocolates. We drank and talked, I biked home from Shinjuku slightly past midnight The streets of Tokyo are deserted, so tranquil and peaceful. I paddled as fast as I can, enjoyed the light cold breeze.

Trip to Brussel and Colonge (5)

The cathedral in Colonge is really the grandest, tallest Gothic style building I have ever seen so far.
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Heading south, we found a big road dotted with subway stations. Great, there must be maps. We stopped the car, and checked out the map right outside the subway station. Good, we are in the right track (we probably regret about a thousand times why we didn't spend 20 euro to get the GPS when picking up the car). As we got closer to the city center, the streets got busier. We still cannot find the cross street where our hotel is. I asked Cathy to stop the car such that I can go check the detailed map in a subway station. We found a parking spot, crossing the street and study the map.

What a strange coincident, the very street is the extension of our hotel street. we were literally 2 minute walk away from it. We burst out laughing, cannot believe our good luck (finally). Colonge is strangely a party town. Saturday evening, everyone on the streets are partying or about to go to a party. We walked to the old town, had beer near the river, spent the lazy evening away (finally we don't need to be on the road anymore).

We took our leisure time slowly drove back to Amsterdam, it was raining quiet hard. However, when we returned to Amsterdam, the sky brightened up and sun light scattered around the bridges and canals. The air is fresh, flowers lazily decorated the building, the park, and the outdoor patio. Amsterdam is this beautiful and tranquil. We spent 2 days driving around Brussel and Germany only to learn how to appreciate the city we are living in.

Trip to Brussel and Colonge (4)

Drink


Drink more



Last drink, I promise...
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We woke up in the cheapo Formula One hotel the next day, my brain doesn't function if not getting 7 solid hour of sleep, therefore, I only woke up 11am, considering we had finally lied down only 5am, that's not too bad. I woke up energetic, wanting to have some good coffee. We went back to Brudge.

Cute little town, pebble stone streets (I know how much rollerbladers hate those but it is nice to walk on, as long as you are not wearing heels) and a charming square. Very commercial, very business-like for tourists. One thing to note is the efficiency, while we parked our car and started to walk around the town, there is a big street fair, food stalls, grocery, produces, even a gardening center line along the streets all the way from the central station. When we finished lunch and went back to fetch our car, everything'd gone. Wow, amazing, as if the fair is just a dream. The streets are cleaned, no gabbage lying around.

We tried not to repeat the bad experience last night (hey, when you travel, only those misfortune, back luck linger long in your memory. Effectively, we have created enough memories for ourselves to complain in the future), we set off to Colonge right after lunch.

The drive is very uneventful, the signs are too clear in Germany. We had no problem finding our way to Colonge although we have no local map (we have one huge map given by the car rental company). Oh well, getting into the city center is again the most challenging task. We spent around 30 minutes driving, stopped by the gas station asking for direction but still lost our way in a little town north of Colonge center. We stopped again deparately to ask for the direction back to Colonge, getting the rough direction, we just drove blindly.

Encounter with the Law Enforcement

My bicycle in Amsterdam
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A couple months ago, in a train station, I was stopped by a policeman. Of course I had no idea what he is talking about, later my friend caught up with me and translated the policeman's request. "Um, miss, there are a lot of people in this station today, beware of pickpockets" Seeing me with no response, he turned to my friend and asked him if I am a foreigner. After the confirmation, he asked me "Do you have the foreigner registration card?" Of course, I have got it in my wallet. This was actually a bit disturbing to my friend, because the policeman just singled me out from hundreds of other passengers, asking for my I.D.. I don't particularly looked foreign but...

I came back to Tokyo and joined the Sunday rollerblading. As we came to our first stop near Tokyo station, I saw a couple of friends who I haven't met for almost half a year. Excited, we were screaming and pushing around a bit, then the security guard came to me and asked me to take off my rollerblades. I was like, um, "Is it just me? Why not others?" The guard showed a distasteful face and replied me in English "All". Fine, I duly took my blades off, and the guard disappeared (I guess he figured he cannot get the whole group to obey his order, better walked away before losing more face). Well, there were 30 other skaters around, he picked me to show his authority.

Trip to Brussel and Colonge (3)

This is what the hotel looks like from the main street, the adverb said "You cannot miss it", "Very easy to spot". I think I really want to check their brain's interior.


The very interesting church in Berlin. Berlin was heavily bombed during World War II, the church was re-built and some modern artist built this hall right next to the tower. Very futuristic, this was made in the 60s.


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We managed to find Zee Brudge, it is already 3am in the morning. However, our hotel is no where in sight. It is supposingly easy to see from the highway but we are just not seeing it. The address doesn't really help because it is labeled as "Transporation Zone" which is the big cargo loading area, lots of storage warehouse around. Never mentioned the weeds as tall as a human beings. This place looks like one of the final scenes where the good cop is going to confront the gangsters in the movies. We automatically thought we were looking in the wrong place, and drove away.

We drove around the town, Zee Brudge. Of course, nothign is open and we don't know where to ask for help. Desparate, tired and really need to pee, we drove back to Brudge, at least it is a bigger town, we might be able to get some help or use the internet. As we came back to town, my weak nerves broke. I said to Cathy I have no energy to keep searching, let's check in to the regular hotel, pay the 100 euro and get some rest, it is 4am in the morning... Cathy gave up as well, we walked into the iBIS to check in. Almost embarrassingly, we explained to the front desk our bad luck in reaching to our reserved hotel and pleaded if we can use the bath room.

The front desk personnel is much helpful. He explained we were not too far away from our hotel. He helped us printing out the map, carefully explained the directions (too much details, both of us were getting a bit annoyed). We thanked him, almost want to kiss him. We drove to Zee Brudge the 5th time that night, and checked into our hotel. The hotel is really in the transporation zone, right behind the huge storage house, the sign was buried in the unruly vegetation. I am wondering how other people can find this....

Trip to Brussel and Colonge (2)

We love our small Daihatsu...
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We quickly decided to leave Brussel, the ring road is too confusing, we were heading west and supposing to make the connection to a highway heading toward Brudge, somehow after a slight curve we are heading south. We still cannot figure out how we missed the intersection until today.

We drove north, trying to get to Antwarpen, at least we are leaving the mysterious Brussel ring road. Both of us were already tired, exhausted, thirsty and could very well use the bathroom. It is close to 2 pm in the morning, to our dismay, there seemed no gas station open past midnight, no convenient store (I miss Japan...), no even 24 hour running dinner on the road side (later I found out that Belgium is the most communist country in the western Europe, the unions are very powerful, the working/opening hours are strictly controlled).

I am starting to think for the worse, if we don't get to our hotel on time, if we don't have the room because of the late check in, if... We might have to spend the night in the car. I thought that we should stop such that I can take a piss on the road side. I still cannot quite work out what to do with the water situation (I am really thirsty, damn, why can you be thirsty and needing to pee at the same time, so ironic).

We finally managed to get to Brudge without a map, but the hotel we made reservation is actually in Zee Brudge, which is 14 km away from Brudge. Brudge is another nightmarish place to drive, because there is again a ring road. The medieval city is surrounded by the river and ring road, and from any angle, any direction, they look ALL THE SAME.

Trip to Brussel and Colonge (1)

I was freezing to death in Berlin. The weather varies, rain came suddenly from time to time, leaving us no time to figure out what to do and how to keep warm. All my gears were all too thin...
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Without too much preparation, Cathy and I set off to Belgium, thinking we might figure out the way to Brussel. Getting a car to drive is very interesting feeling, I mean, at least I haven't been sitting in a private car for long time (VIVA public transportation!, Viva bicycle!). The drive was pleasant, weather was nice, and the road signs are pretty clear. We had not problem getting to Brussel at all, we thought.

However, we under-estimated the difficulty of getting into Brussel city center. Without a city map, we drove around and around, trying to find the direction to zentrum (centre/center/centrum). We finally found the central square. After parking the car, getting into the streets filled with mussels and frites restauarants, it had already turned 9pm. We picked a restaurant, ate the overcooked mussles and very expensive wine (I suspect they'd rather overcook the shellfish to make dead all gems and bacteria. Taste? Who cares, most tourists only come to Brussel once in their life time). However, the busy areas near the Cathedral and square are pretty nice to look at. Let's not worry too much about the food, we will find our hotel tonight, maybe I will buy some fruits and snacks along the way.

After the meal, we are ready to hit the road, 11pm that was. We had a couple of maps, all not very detailed. We need to figure out how to get to Brudge in 2 hours. However, we were first trapped in the city, although we duly followed the sign to ring road, we spent almost 45 minutes to get to the motorway. We thought that's the end of our nightmare, oh well, the show just started. First of all, we were driving to the wrong direction heading toward Paris (many thanks to me, I mis-read the map). When turning back to north, we were trapped in the most terrible traffic jam I have ever experienced in years. Our car moves like snail for almost 1 hour, it is already 1am in the morning and we were still at Brussel ring road!

Liberty Project (3)

The Amsterdam series just gets longer and longer, ha ha ha. I went on the walking tour this Saturday, just to get myself a bit of entertainment (I ponder if I get on these kind of trips frequent enough, I might be able to do a tour myself in no time).

I have been wondering why Dutch are very easy going with everything. It was guessed perhas they have been struggling with the flooding since 13th century, flood took away lives, destroyed homes, regardless your religion, belive, ethinic origin. Every one had to fight together. It is pointless to be angry if your home/land/love ones can go anytime. It is actually very interesting point. Suppose you and your political rival have a common enemy, you tend to bond with whatever allies to fend off the evil spirit (this can very well be used in my project, ha ha ha).

The other interesting thing to note is that Dutch was invaded by Neopolian force, and a french king was installed. He decided everyone should have a last name (this is very very interesting, no last name, no past and no baggage, life was created without bearing responbisibility to glorify the family). Thus, Dutch came up with last names from where they live, what they do, just like Japanese in Meiji restoration. It is quite amusing to learn some of the Dutch last name are "Dead Cow" or "Smelly alley" if translated into English.

Another interesting piece of information is that the oldest prostitute in redlight district ages 75, she is still working.

Impulsive Purchase

I was sitting at home at Friday evening, getting away from the office politics and trying get the evil thoughts out of my head (how to make dead of my team members by making them look very bad), my favorite law and order is showing. Having a glass of wine, cooked my fried pork with broccoli, life is really not too bad.

While I was sitting down comfortably after the simple meal, um, time to clean up with dental floss. As I was trying very hard to break into teeth, the floss snapped and, to my great horror, I had no long enough floss left. Shit, shit, shit. I had to dress up, put on my running shoes, and run to Albert Heijn before it closes. I ran down the vertical stairs (in Nederland, the property is taxed by the width of the building facing the street, thus, most of the canal properties have the nearly vertical stair well to save space/money). I quickly unlocked my bike, cycled as fast as I can rushing to the store, hoping to be able to come back in time to catch the final verdict of the episode of Law and Order. The Albert Heijn nearby didn't have floss, I quickly calculated my option, ran out of the store, biked to the other bigger AH near by Dam square.

I succeeded in getting myself into the store seconds before it shut down for the day, ran quickly pass the veggie section, cannot help but notice the fresh white asparagus (they are in season). Dutch illiterate as I am, I thought it is on sale for only 99c euro. Without thinking twice, I picked it up and ran to the personal hygiene section. I quickly picked up the floss looking little white box, cannot be bother to read the text (I won't understand it anyways), as I waited in the check out register, picking up the famouse Dutch waffle cake. Never mention that I managed to pick up a carten of milk (I normally don't drink it, but I have some cereal to finish...) and a pair of plastic gloves (they are my best friend in life).

I was really surprised the total came to almost 10 euro, it turned out that the innocent looking white asparagus costs me almost 5 euro. Feeling really bad, I rode home only to the beginning of another show I don't like very much. I will never be able to find out who won the case in Law and Order. Fine, at least I can floss my teeth and have a good night sleep. How wrong I am, the white dental floss looking box actually contains wooden toothpicks.

I was biking around the city and running between 2 supermarkets like a maniac and had achieved nothing I had planned for and spent 10 euros...

Cycling

I really enjoy biking in Amsterdam. The city is flat, no hills thus no need to have geared bicycle. Everyone is biking with the grandpa style heavy touring bike, you rarely see the fully dressed cyclists with helmets on street. Girls bike with their heels, so do I. Only a couple of embarassing situations happened so far, my heels was trapped in the padel and, panicking, lifting my foot resulting in lossing my shoe in the street. I had to stop a few meters after, pushing my bike backward to pick it up.

I listen to my pimsleur's Japanese lessons while taking my 45 minute biking tour to and fro work, it is great because I can recite whatever the instructor's talking, no one spare a look, they all think I am on the phone, I guess.

The very good thing in Amsterdam is that people are not paranoid about things. You see canals all over the city without railing. It is really unthinkable in other places, adults refuse to admit that kids are intellegent enough not to jump into the water just for fun. You can see a lot of parents riding bycicle carrying small kids in the rolley in front, sometimes one in the baby seat in front and the other one in the back. This is so great. I cannot think of a better way to transport small children for all parents.

The problem with biking in Amsterdam is that you are risking of lossing your bike to thefts. I duly locked my bike with 2 locks, the bike rental shop owner assured me that the lock provided is the best in town. In fact, it can be more expensive than the bike itself.

Liberty Project (2)

Ah ha, we are finally in the interesting bits of the business. The girls normally negotiate prices with the patrons. They start counting the time the moment you put the bills on their hands, 15 minutes (it is for your benefit to find the girl with less fabric covering her body). Verbal contract is everything, you two would have to agree on the position (changing position costs you more), what she will be wearing, and, of course, doing what.

The sad thing is that Amsterdam city is trying to close down the window prostitution in 2 years' time. It is considered a lowest of prostitution, normally brings in more crime. Um, I guess it is just going to turn underground and perhaps it is going to put the girls into more unfavourable situation.

As I am writing, I think my neighbor is having a super grass party...

Liberty Project (1)

Amsterdam is a very free and tolerative city. Since 16th century, this has been the place for sailors from all over the world to get drunk and have some luck with sex. Although it is illegal to drink or possess any alcoholic drink on the street, if you are not being an ass, police men walk pass you as if not seeing your illegal act. Coffeeshops are not supposed to sell more than certain grams of weeds, however, not one really enforce the law. I was only surprised to find out that Cocaine was legal until 10 years ago because the law didn't make a clear distinction with soft and hard drugs (approx 100,000 Cocaine addicted Germans were living in AMS before 90s, that's when Amsterdam cleaned it up).

I guess it is hard to surprise Amsterdamers with anything, they have seen it all for hundreds of years. Prostitution started in 16th century, girls lingered around the harbour, luring the drunk sailors. They were sailors' wives, or girls from the countryside. The interesting thing to note is that the brothels and the windows are scattering around the churches, one guess is that men could pay off their sin first then have some fun later.

The window prositution actually stars around 70s, the propertiers rent out the window space (200 euros for 6 hour shift during the rush hours), the telephone number on top of the building is not the girls' but the landlord's. The girls are protected by CCTV and invisible bouncers (or pimps, love boys, whatsoever).

The Difference Between Tokyo and Paris (4)

I forgot to mention the final episode of my ordeal of Paris trip. I came back to my apartment in Amsterdam, unpacking the bag that's missing from my life for 2 days, only to find that my contact lense solution and toner were almost gone because the caps were not tightened properly. I checked in my bags because of them....

Note on June 19th. I just found out that one of my newly purchase foundation in my cosmetic bag was also unscrewed this morning when I tried to use the darker tanned tone. The grease flooded all over the bottom the bag. Shit, shit, shit, I started to wonder if someone in Berlin Tegel or Paris Orly airport, secretly opened up my bag, careflly unscrewed all bottles I possess in my luggage, so-single-mindly to drain out all the liquid.

The Difference Between Tokyo and Paris (3)

Traveling really stresses me out. I am finally getting ready to pack up and cannot wait to go back to my sweet, sweet home in Amsterdam (I hate Paris). I gave myself 1 and half hour to go back to my hotel near Champ Elysee, to pick up the train ticket the Paris Office Manager left me (why she wants to do that is strange, I should get a electronic one...). Then I can go to Gare Du Nord (I double confirmed that is the right train station for train leaving for Amsterdam).

However, I miscalculated the time, although Paris Metro system is very compact, practical, on time and cute, I forgot to include the walking time from the hotel to train station (10 minutes one way). When I was leaving the hotel, it is almost 5:40 and my international train is leaving Paris at 6:25. I was running, sweating, pondering when my traveling nightmere is going to end and what I am going to do if I DO miss the train again.

I got on the train eventually, 3 minutes before the train departed. I sat on my seat and thanking everyone that I am on the train, if any of my connections in Paris Metro system broke off, I won't be able to make this train.

4 hours later, I am home, oh how I miss Amsterdam....

The Difference Between Tokyo and Paris (2)

I have had missing lugguage experience with Air France (oh no, not related to French again). On my way to Tokyo, I can see my name on a board on the conveyor belt, "Miss Liao, your bag is coming in the next flight from Paris to Tokyo, please identify yourself to the ground crew". OK, I dully filled out my address, and custom declaration form, I went home happy and received the luggage delivered to my door at 9pm the same day.

Obviously you cannot apply the same logic to French. I spent the most miserable 2 days in Paris without my contact lense solution, eye glasses, clean underwears, mouth guard, and make up (really sorry for my Paris client, I showed up without make up, that must be really really scary). What's worse is the stress kept me awake, and eczma attack slows crawling back to my face. I constantly pondered what I should do if I can never see my bag again? If they cannot delivery on time to the hotel, what is going to happen if I give them my address in Amsterdam, can I trust their ability to deliver my bag to another country?

The bag turned up 7am in the morning on the day I am supposed to take the train back to Amsterdam. Believe me, that's the happiest moment in my life for a while. At least I can go to work with clean underwears and some make up in my last day.

The Difference Between Tokyo and Paris (1)

I flew from Berlin directly to Paris because my boss sold me to a Paris client for 3 days. Not really keen to go but I figure it is a good chance for me to meet up more people in this fields and make connection, I duly obliged and packed up my bag, heading toward the airport.

Everything is fine, the airplane departed on time, I worked out the RER route to go to the center of Paris, I event figured how to get to the client from the train station. I then waited for my bag in the conveyor belt, I started to have a very bad feelings when everyone had left with their bags. Shit, that's not true, I was forced to check in my bag because of the damned contact lense solution, otherwise I could have take it as handcarry.

I had had a very bad start of my trip, I missed my train from Amsterdam to Berlin on Friday night because I didn't realise the train is actually leaving form Amsterfoot (hey, the train ticket says from Amsterdam to Berlin, I thought it is departing from the Amsterdam Centraal station like every medium size city). Panicking, oh well, if a problem can be solved by money, it is not a problem at all. I closed my eyes and paid for the full fare train ticket to Berlin, departing 2 hours later. I started to become very agitated and nervous with the rest of my traveling schedule...

Anyhow, the chatty, attractive French man behind the lost baggage claim counter helped me fill out the missing form, assuring me that I will have my bag back (is that real so? I am leaving in the evening in 3 days). He said positively, you will be ok, and can I take you out for coffee while you are in Paris? I said, yeah, after you found my bag, everything is ok.

Really worried about getting to the client side on time, I jumped onto the train and heading toward central paris.

Holocaust in Berlin

Hung out with Berlin tour guide, Stevie trying the German/Italian coffee (bitter expresso on top of vanilla ice cream, plus some Chocolate whipped cream). Suprisingly, it is not too sweet.
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Berlin is vast, everything is spreaded, scattered around. There are a lot of greens, and of course, history everywhere. I think people are drawn to Berlin because of its special geographical location (the wall around the city, located inside the heart of east Germany) and the disturbing Third Riech history during the war, at least I am.

It is very heavy going through the Holocaust memorial and musuem underneath it. Sometimes life can be just lighter than air, 6 millions of Jewish people vanished, that's 6 zeros after the single digit 6. I still cannot figure out how a person can treat another person as if he/she is not a human being. We went through a open exhibition, "Topology of Terror" located in the original Nazi government buildings. It is amazing to see how Hitler went to the thorne of power by elbowing out the opposition parties, and it is equally amazing to see how intellegent, well-educated citizens turning into the followers of this crazy politics (want to go back and re-read the "Lucifer Effect").

Berlin was not in its best weather while we were around, I was constantly freezed, regretting I should have brought my winter gears with me from Tokyo. Summer in Europe is really like late autumn in Asia.

The reader

Watched the film on the plane to Amsterdam from Tokyo, I cannot exactly tell you what I feel about the movie but I can only tell you the pieces and bits of the movies linger in my head constantly.

Kate Winsler's acting is remarkable. Hanna, the illiterate German woman served the prison term out of the shame of admitting her illiteracy in the court of law. What would I do if I were in her shoes? Before the prison, her love affair with the 15 year old boy had brought her something in life?

Speaking of "in her shoes", just finished a lengthy movie "In Her Shoes". Man, I can understand why people want to look at pleasant things in movies. The elder sister, Rose, is such a straigh-faced, clumsy creature, compare to her younger sister, Maggie, the dylexia suffering, vain, but good looking girl (although I don't think there is much more else, I still enjoy watching her). We are all visual animials, aren't we?

Windmills

Got a friend visiting Amsterdam and had the chance to be dragged out of the city to enjoy the country side of Netherland, we are waiting for the bus to go to the windmills

The windmills were built 2 centuries ago in order to drain the water to the canal, the canal bed is higher than the farmland... Gee, the people living here must have had a tough life, constantly worried about the flooding.
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The 4th week in Amsterdam, I rented a bike and cycle to work every day. The weather has been generous, it is very enjoyable despite the 45 minute ride to and fro work. Still have no intention to bring my clothes for professional cleaning, I hand wash all my laundries. Surpringly, it is not troublesome. I get to develop a special, and strange attachment to my laundry routine. I carefully wash them piece by piece, observing the delicate decay of the linens, watching them dry under the sun (my studio apartment has abundant sunlight in the afternoon).

Great Globalization

Shopping for consumer goods in Amsterdam is not a difficult task though knowing no Dutch. Walking past the house cleaning aisle, I can pretty much figure out what those various bottles contain. Dish detergent and toilet cleaner bottles are shaped in the exact way you can see in North America or UK. To double confirm, the graphical explanation (for laundry detergent, you can tell by sign showing the number of loads this bottle can support) helps greatly. The marketing and branding have to conform, we are brain washed by this culture. It is hard to imagine if Colgate starts to sell Chocolate, for example.

It started raining in Amsterdam since Friday night, the weater is freezing cold. I am numbering the days going home.

Super Surfing Weekend (end)

I really appreciate Sandy being in Taipei, she has opened a window in the city in which I grew up. Besides, it is more fun to go with my cute cousin (she has more connection in Taipei than me after moving to Taipei in Feburary) Uncle Thomas accompanied us for the super surfing Sunday. To compensate his sacrifice, we went to the upscale hot spring resort for our after-surfing bath. The bath is outdoor, we bathed in the 40 celcius spring water, looking over the green mountains and blue sky.

We went back home to pick up my mom for dinner, 4 of us went to a restaurant only sells goose. The goose meat was boiled, but tender and with a lot of flavor. We ordered so much food that almost covered the whole table, unsurpringly, we finished them all and ordered some more for take away...

Super Surfing Weekend (3)

We went surfing challenge again the next day, my arms were really sore after a night's rest. I almost want to give up the idea of carrying the heavy surf board and nonstop paddling, flighting with the waves. The moment we hit the beach, everything just came so naturally. The surf boards were picked up, and before we realised our sore bodies, we were cutting through the waves paddling agagin.

The waves are better today, they come in unison (it is really hard if the winds blow in different directions, you will have to handle waves coming from everywhere). I had a couple of successful 1-second standing, good no hitting the nose so far.

In one of the successful standing, my board was carried all the way to the shore. I naturally dived off the board (wrong, wrong, wrong, I should stay on the board, I only understood this later), wanting to carry my board to the shore and have a rest. However, the wave was too strong, I was knocked over by the wave. Another wave came, my board was (luckily) at my waist and butt on the sand, I was pushed all the way to the shore. It is really not fun when your butt is sunburned the previous day and very sensitive. When the wave subsided, it carried my board (and my butt) down again... While waiting for another butt sanding to come, Sandy came to my rescue. She helped me fix the surf board and help me stand up. Oh my god, I was leaving the water in such a messy condition, I can see the guy with surf board walking pass trying hard not to burst into laughing.

Super Surfing Weekend (2)

My bikkini panties are loose, I am very worried if they would be washed away by the strong wave. Apart from that, everything is great. The sea water is not exactly clean and clear, but just sitting on the board waiting for the wait, enjoying the warm sunshine on my body and seeing the endless sea water is quite relaxing. The undesired side effect is that my butts and back of my legs were pink at the end of the day, I guess it's because those areas were not exposured to the sun that offen.

On one of the attempt to stand up on the board, I was like the princess of the sea for 1 second and fell off the board. Panicking, trying to get my head above the water, the board was pushed by the wave toward my raising head. My nose took the hit and I finally understood the feeling of being knocked over. Not really serious, I climbed up to the board, started to paddle out and realised I had had the first bleeding nose experience. Cool as it can be.

Sandy and I went to have food and hot spring bath in the nearby town, the hot spring bath is public and free of charge, relaxing our sore limps and sunburned skin in the warm water. Ah.... Life is pretty good sometimes.

Super Surfing Weekend (1)

When hiking with Sandy and Jennifer earlier this year, Sandy revealed the secret of surfing to us. To be honest, when I was in Taiwan, I was really a kid, moving only between school and home, never explored anything in this island. Surfing sounded too much fun to let pass, I determined to learn this and experience the beauty of sea once again.

I picked up Sandy and set off to the coast in the early morning, reached the surf board shop just before 11am (I was lost again, I'm never be able to get to the hiking trails or beach on time). We had a very experience instructor to come to the sea with us (although Sandy is going to be my coach, the surf board shop owner sent one of his patrons to go with us anyways). After a brief explanation, we dived down to the sea.

Paddling out is challenging. It is not easy to fight off the waves while laying on top of the huge surf boad, belly down. Once reaching out, we sat on the board to rest and wait for the broken wave.

I have never gotten so excited about seeing the white cap coming toward us (waves are no good, white caps are where real pushing power exists). Timing is everything, we had to wait, judge whether the coming wave is good enough for us to take off, including the time we need to turn around, and paddle. Before the board sits exactly on top of the white cap, we need to paddle really really hard to generate the momentum, ideal the same speed as the wave. If everything goes, the board would ride the wave effortlessly. That's the time we need to jump onto the board and start to rock.

Returning Home

Spending 3 days in Tokyo before heading back to Taipei, it is so nice to sleep in my own bed. My wash machine is the busiest moving item in my tiny apartment, 3 loads of non stop washing. Though I still not speak the language, I find myself seeing Tokyo as my home, a place with books I've finished and I am planning to read, a place with my clothes, a place with my rollerskates, hiking shoes and running trainers. I like to lie on the floor in sunny afternoon waiting for the sunlight slowly crawling over me, listening to my limited music collection, and pondering what to cook for dinner. Walking around in my neighborhood shopping, or going to the community center hoping to meet GString-san again.

The big project has come to an end, and there is little reason to keep non-Japanese speaking consultants in Tokyo office. I am dispatched to projects in Europe, Amsterdam, possibly Munich or Johnessburg afterwards. This makes me think what a home means. Friends, family, books, foods, or some addictive hobbies that entertain you when you are bored?

The 7th Hotel

This last hotel I checked in is totally different from those before. It is chick, posh and unpretentious. Very Shoreditch like, the remake of deprived, running down neighbourhood is very clever. It is not trying to demolish all old, shaby Victorian features of the streets and buildings, it rather uses clever art work display and to-the-point decor and lighting to give it a modernized feel.

The hotel staff behaves like those in a youth hostel. The room is suprisingly nice and clean. No mini-bar, if you want to buy them, come down to the front desk. Free organic breakfast from Pre-a-manger. The brochure in the bathroom encourages visitors to hang their towels for re-use like every other hotels, but makes it clear that the hotel wants to save money, too (I always wonder how often the cleaners leave the used towels as is, I think it is much easier for them to replace the used with freshly clean one and it is happening in all the hotel I stay).

Not pretentious in a way this hotel tells you its every effort it does to save money (and preserve the environment). No nonsense, no excessive attention, no fake welcome, this is pretty much my style of hotel.

3 Weeks 6 Hotels

I cannot believe that I have checked in and out hotels almost 6 times during this 3 weeks. I hate hotel living... The stress is showing on my face with a severe eczma attack, which hasn't been a problem ever since I moved back to Asia. There must be something about the water (or Fenshui) in London. Or perhaps I am not eating proper meals.

The redden skin and rash went all over my face, itchy like hell. I ran out of the steroid cream which might effectively control the inflammation. Anyhow, I have no other choice but live with it.

The only good thing is that I am now used to fundation, powder and concealer. Those really effectively cover up the uneven, patched skin. That also has a funny side effect, I don't scratch my face at all, afraid of destroying my make up. But toward the end of the day, when my body is tired and exhausted, the problem is more pronounced. I racked up my limited understandings of Chinese medicine. The heat in stomach would result in the skin condition on face (fire supress metal, which is the element controling breathing and skin), perhaps there is too much heat. The heat is also damp, so that means I have excessive water element in my body. If water is the element to supress the fire, but why under the condition I have dampness yet the fire is not supressed? More study required...

Grade C Duck Noodles

I have strange appetite of animal innards. Mosunabe is one of my favorite dishes in Japan.
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After eating cold Sandwiches for 2 days, I think I should have something hot and soupy. Walking around Amsterdam, found a couple Chinese restaurants, and I decided to trust one of them to provide me something to calm my Chinese stomach.

When walking into the restaruant, I can smell the long grand Thai rice smell, not the top quality one. Ok, at least we are sure this is run by Hong Kong immigrants (Hong Kong people have this strange habbit of eating long grand Thai rice, very very fragrant, whereas Chinese from other places don't). I can guess this is a not fancy but practical Cantonese food shop.

The soup is the clear broth base, cooked with dried fish, which is the traditional way. Good sign. It is scolding hot, even better. The egg noodles are those mixed with some alkaline. Texture is bouncy, full of wheat and egg flavor. However, I found some noodles are still stick to each other, oh no, point deduced.

The duck meat is dried and the skin is too fatty. The funny thing is I found I have around 5 or 6 pieces of fresh duck meat, and 2 old one (maybe the unsold roast duck being sent back to oven the next day, great way to sell not so fresh meat). Which is exactly the same as those duck noodles in London. I wonder if the duck noodle chefs all went to the same cooking school?
I cannot have the second helping.

Chain Saw, Chain Saw

Sakura in imperial palace, this year's sakura is not as angry as last year (maybe I have grown used to it), still quite a view.
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Akiko arranged a get-together-dinner with SunGard people, we went to a casual French restaurant, and let Michael (the wine connoisseur) to do the wine ordering. For some strange reason, wine doesn't taste as good as it was before to me, damn, it is getting harder and harder to please myself.

Michael is an American living in Japan for more than 15 years, with a Chinese wife, speaking fluent Japanese. He is the most cynical person I have come across. Very funny guy, but he never laugh or smile at his own joke, sometimes looked uninterested and I-am-bored. Anyhow, one of his stories he told us happened when he was teaching English some years ago in Aomori, a small town.

He was drinking beer with his colleagues and 2 Yakusa-looking men (they miss some fingers or something) came taking the table next to them. The whole pub went quiet but these 2 innocent young American couldn't understand the reason. They chat with the gangsters, those 2 gangsters like American horror movies a lot. With their broken English, one of the guy shout in excitement "American Horror movies good, I like chain saw". The other guy agreed and they chantted in unison, "chain saw, chain saw, chain saw" with the geasture of moving a heavy chain saw. One Japanese guy sitting close by dropped his glass, he immidiately bowed mumbling "sumimasien, sumimasien..." and tried to clean the floor with his bare hands.

Michael's comment is those Japanese gangsters have very easy life.

Window Shopping

I duly followed everyone's advise, you have to do some window shopping when in Amsterdam. Like other Nordic countries, Netherland people get off work really on time, I had some daylight after work and I set out walking around.

The redlight district is not as seedy as I imagined (or the area of old city is equaly seedy and dirty everywhere, you sort of get numb. My Tokyo sense of clean street subsided in a week). It is hiding inside the narrow alley ways between canels. People strolling around (most of them are tourists), bouncers hanging around (funny they all look the same, with the same body build across countries, culters and cities), peeping show and sex stores scatter around. When walking past one of the windows, a man walked straight into the door, I clearly heard the girl inside greeted him "How are you doing", as if he is one of her friends, no remorse, it is just a business. Let's make it as pleasant as possible.

I think sexiality has a lot of elements in it. The main driving force is desire, to want and to be wanted. That consequent emotions are passion, fullness beyond desire and satiety. It is more than just 2 opposite sex stripping naked and tangling together. Perhaps for men it is harder to (or it is not necessary) to identify the difference.

Hotel Survival Guide (3)

I wrote the Hotel Survival Guide (1) and (2) 2 years ago when I was doing the crazy traveling, practically living in hotels 3 weeks a month. After 1 year and half of peaceful life, I am back on the road. There are many factors that made me to consent to this schedule, anyhow, it is a welcome change (I am a bit tired of my Tokyo client, also, I think the feeling is mutual).

I swang by the local supermarket before heading back to my hotel room afterwork. Fancying ice cold beer, I abandoned the can beer on the shelf but go straight the freezers for bottle beer (Not really thinking that I have no can opener). Anyhow, when there is will, there is a way. I managed to pry open the beer with the coffee spoon, man, I am so proud of myself. I think we need to have a small swiss army knife thingy whenever we travel.

The other thing we need to really pay attention to is that the floor towel and face towels are really the same size. After arriving, I routinely took the contact lens off and started my face washing. Without seeing much, I took the towel on the top of the pile, scraping and wiping, thinking this towel's texture is really good, crispy and firm. Perfect for exfoliating. Only the next morning when I step out of the shower I realised I was using the floor towel last night.

What do You Do When Riding a Bicycle

I listen to Pimsleur's Japanese language lessons while biking to Shinagawa, good duration of 45 mintues. It is just too much fun to stop doing it, especially when the weather is good. I picked up Japanese through it more than the formal class.

This morning I saw a guy, stopping in front of red light, moving a small electronic device in his chin. Oh my god, he is saving while riding a bicycle.

Scared the Dog

I do not quite like the traditional Japanese soba, with 100% wheat. The texture is soggy and floury. The good soba should break when your chopsticks pick it up. I do prefer the chowy version, which mixed in higher percentage of flower. With dashi, it is a good meal on its own. If keep eating soba and tofu in Japan, I guess you can easily live up to 100 years old. But why do you want to live that long?
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The spring equinox holiday, I spared myself to enjoy the extra-long swim session in the pool. Really feeling good, but the allergy reaction toward chlorine was keeping me looking sick and ill for almost one day afterward.

Visiting a friend near Yoyogi park, walking past the the narrow street to a pub. My sudden burst of violent sneezes scared a dog, which was held in his master's arms. The dog barked, I hope the dog didn't pee on his master.

After Death

The famous Budda monk in Taiwan passed way a couple weeks ago. He could have prolong his life by kidney transplate but he refused. His arguement was "I have lived long enough, it is meaningless to take a young healthy kidney from a person who can live with it". He could definitely afford it but his value system stopped him from doing so. He also mention "Death is like transfering to another bus, a ner journey begins". I wish I could do so if the inevitable occurs to me.

Gero Onsen

Went to onsen with Irene, Gero is supposed to be one of the top 3 onsens in Japan.
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It is very nice to travel with Irene, feeling that we are easily excited high school girls again. We spent some time in Nagoya, had the nice Taiwanese style bubble tea with topioca, walked around the flea market, then heading toward Gero, staying in a small ryokan. Food, bath, breakfast, bath, walk around, then bath. It is very relaxing in the mountains....