Blogger Bore

Mention of my blog last night to Frenchy-future-nobel-prize-winning friend B led to some reflection on my part of my latest blog entries. It pains me to say it, but I realized that my blog is becoming boring. Believe me, it didn't help that I came to this epiphany over an oh-so boring order of the most non-adventurous Indian dish Chicken Tikka Masala. I wasn't even in the mood for something with spice!

Is this a reflection of my life? Have I entered a new phase in Cambridge where my life has become too boring to describe, even on a weblog that hardly anyone reads!? Pretty soon will I be dressing in polo shirts and penny-loafers and watching the home shopping network?! HORROR!

Well, let's think about what used to make my blog so interesting before... I realize my witty prose has gotten less witty-- perhaps dulled by the monotony of academic writing. I have no more funny bad date stories-- especially since I've actually ended up in a serious relationship with a former victim of my many jokes (!), and no more insights into the Japanese psyche now that I am removed from the bubble of Tokyo. So tell me, what do I write about?! You definitely would not want to hear about my day sitting in front of this computer writing a presentation on how Foucault's theories of power and knowledge are applied to Western imperialism of the Orient... yet I am so out of content that I've just told you anyway.

EngRish GiRL is uninspired and on the verge of becoming (hiccup!) boring. Maybe this is my cue to switch to fiction...

Lost in Transition?

At the conference I mentioned in the previous entry, it was debated whether or not China was "Lost in Transition"-- heading somewhere, but not quite sure what its end goal is or which direction it will follow to get there. I couldn't help but think, or actually panic, Am I like China?! (I guess you know you are at Cambridge when you start comparing your life to the directionless domestic and foreign policies of a nation of 1.3 billion people... but that is a whole other issue.)

Sure, I know I am here to get a Masters degree, which I should hopefully get without a problem, but after this the future is blank. I consider the time here only transitional. I can't really focus on this as an end since I will be here only about 10 months. It's much more of a pitstop on my to somewhere else, but where?! All along, I have been quite reassured by the prospect of my Cambridge degree and some good work experience under my belt. I figure that something will just come along, no matter where I am. And I'm still confident that something will find me. But it still leaves all these unanswerable questions about WHERE that place will be... Japan? Europe? US?... and WHAT I would want to do in each of those places. And I find it increasingly difficult to be puttering along here with no real idea of what I want as soon as this coming summer. I keep thinking it will depend on WHERE I am, but I am beginning to wonder if the "where" is as important as the "what."

What I discovered last summer when I was so ambitious about job hunting is that whatever I planned ended up changing by the end anyway, so maybe it's just better not having any clue now and leaving that for later, after I finish my dissertation.

Deng Xiaoping once said, "I cross the stream by feeling for the stones." Perhaps it's not such a bad philosophy-- if it (kind of) worked for over 1 billion people, maybe it can work for me too.

From behind the desk to around the table...

I haven't talked much about my academics on here, because usually there are more interesting things for you to hear! But nonetheless, that is of course a huge part of my life here at Cambridge. Today was most definitely a highlight, though, as I found myself seated among some of the most renowned international scholars of Chinese modern issues at a conference chaired by one of my professors. I listened to six of them deliver papers and then participated (though more passively than actively) in the following discussions on each.

There was one somewhat familiar face in the crowd. It took me back to my first year of university at GW when I had an assignment for my introductory international studies class to conduct an interview of a scholar for a group project. Ours happened to be on China/Taiwan, so I looked up one of the most published and renowned China scholars in the neighborhood and made an appointment with him. I remember sitting opposite him at his desk and asking him a few questions, which must have been so basic, so simplistic to him that he had replied politely but somewhat dismissively. I had completed my assignment, so I wasn't particularly phased by this in any way. Still, I have come across his name time and time again and am always impressed with his compelling arguments. He is one of the most respected scholars in his field today.

Fast forward five years later, and I am not behind his desk but sitting next to him at a conference. Sure, he was asking profound questions in the discussions and presenting his new, cutting-edge research, and I, on the other hand, asked one not-so-profound question and scribbled down some notes, but it gave me some sort of gauge how far I've come, so to speak. I still feel as much the lowly student as ever, but perhaps in some way I am "climbing the ranks." At least I can be a bit satisfied that there is a progression in the academic world, and I'm no longer at the bottom.

My tour of Paris

I have not only fallen in love with a Frenchman. In three short days, I think I've also fallen in love with the city of Paris. (click for moi a Paris)

Perhaps it was the mild, sunny weather. Perhaps it was my "tour guide," my friend H from university in Washington DC, who graciously showed me every niche of the city and let me stay at his beautiful flat around the corner from the Louvre! Perhaps it was the food... no, I'm SURE it was the food! But in between bites of baguette, I did manage to see a few sights.

I'm not sure I can even choose the most beautiful place. The city at night along the Seine, or in the cour carree of the Louvre-- these must have been among the best. But during the day, sipping coffee at a cafe in Montmartre or walking through the gardens at Versailles-- these were just about as good! I also won't forget the feeling of being completely moved by the grandeur of the Louvre, the masterpieces on every wall and ceiling, and Mona Lisa's mysterious gaze; the storming organ music being played during our walk through Notre Dame; or the luminosity of the stained glass at la Sainte Chappelle. The only thing I was missing was someone to kiss among all the "rabu-rabu" couples holding hands in the dim light of sunset along the bridges. The romance of it all just made me feel even more loneliness, which I had to keep transforming into excitement for the next time I'll be in Paris with S.

Saturday night was a highlight, too! I went to a party at the flat of S' friend Gwenn, who rounded up all of S' childhood best friends to meet me. It was not only great to place personalities with names and photos, but all of them were absolutely fantastic! Now I can relax at the thought that I get on really well with the mates, even though S unfortunately wasn't there to take part in all the debauchery of the night. To my disappointment, I got only starters to any embarrassing stories about S-- his friends were quite good about keeping the end a secret: "Ask him if I can tell you" was the theme of the night. I will have to wait until one day when they are more drunk and eager to talk!

So now I return to Cambridge with student cafeteria food, the damp & cold of England, lectures, and library. Why is reality soooo much less appealing?! Anyway, I'm sure it will not be my last time in Paris, so I'll just go back to counting the days until my next trip:

Beginning November 30th, you can follow me 'round Tokyo - Malaysia - Tokyo - London - New York/home/Washington DC - London. Good thing I am getting used to long trips..!

ARGOS

What began as a shopping expedition for some kitchenware ended up a disaster and yet a source of reflection... I now have a biased opinion of this crummy catalogue store called Argos, so bear in mind that my story will be far from objective.

Looking for the cheapest possible cookingware, dishes, flatware, etc., I ventured to the opposite end of town for this Argos place, which I was told had everything you could need for your house. Expecting a huge warehouse-type IKEA place, all I found was a small shop with a bunch of catalogues. Apparently you look up the item in a book, write down the item number, go to the counter and purchase the item, and then pick it up at a different counter. Welcome to the fast food chain of household goods. I caught on to the process and eventually ordered a set of kitchen goods containing almost everything I needed, plus some hardboiled egg holders (?!), for the reasonable price of GBP 19.99. The only problem was that I wanted the set delivered, seeing as I would not be able to carry it with me 4 miles on my bicycle.

Delivery was promised for an extra 4.95. Fine. But now, here I am 12 days later with no kitchen set. Making my way across town again to curse this damned store, I was determined to get the kitchen set delivered again, but with a refund on the delivery charge. Result? It took 30 minutes of patience and a LOT of hassle and frustration, but eventually, I stated my case, and I was again promised that the set would be delivered, all for the bottom-line price of 19.99.

The point of this story is that I am beginning to realize all of the concessions I used to make while living in Japan. I never would have gone through the hassle of trying to state my case for free delivery. The frustration of trying to say what I deserved in Japanese, and at the appropriate level of politeness to boot, would never have been worth saving 1000 yen. I now think back to the bag full of clothes and make-up I had left in a taxi in Tokyo and my half-assed attempt to get it back, the too-small sheets I had bought when I first arrived and my failed attempt to exchange them for a different size, and so many other times I must have lost my money because I couldn't be bothered to be more persistent.

Now, it all seems too easy in a way...
But in another way, I'm wondering about all the other things I must have lost in translation in Tokyo...

Fancy dinner?

Our matriculation formal dinner was held last night in the dining hall, the place that plops lumps of mash and a river of gravy onto the plates of students too poor to eat anywhere better. In other words, on a normal evening, the dining hall of Wolfson is not the place to come for a classy culinary experience.

Last night was a bit of an exception, though. We were served a tomato basil soup, herb encrusted trout, and the British version of cheesecake that was, well, better than Japan's but not nearly as good as New York's. We also sampled the college's champagne, dinner wine, dessert wine, and port. The English do know how to drink!

I sat across from the Dean of the college and struggled to find the correct fork among the many and gracefully peel my kiwi and eat it using only a knife. I was not trained in fruit etiquette and was cursing myself for choosing a KIWI of all things from the fruit bowl (why not grapes?!).

The dinner itself lacked most of the elements that made a fun dinner in Tokyo-- namely funny wigs, funny people, and the ability to call "sumimasen" and get what you want. We could only pass the port and wine around the table, which seemed 100 meters long, so for a second glass, you'd have to wait 15 minutes for it to come 'round again. But, instead of the funny wigs we were wearing funny gowns (think Harry Potter at his Griffyndor welcome dinner), instead of funny people, we had the President of the college deliver a warm and promising speech, and I learned to lean left when they were clearing plates and right when they were serving.

The result? EngRish GiRL is becoming skinnier but more refined...

Eye Candy

Some views of Cambridge from yesterday's lovely morning.
A friend of a friend was here from London, and while my friend was in a lecture, I had the opportunity to tour around with a Swiss lad. After climbing too many steps in the wrong shoes, I reached the tower of the University Church (St. Mary's), and this was my reward!

Punting along

"Punting" is the term used to describe the rather archaeic, but somehow fun, Cambridge activity of boating on the river Cam with a long pole. Think gondolas in Venice or bamboo rafting in China. With so many brilliant people here, you'd think they would devise a better way to scoot along the river... but I suppose that's part of its charm. We did it yesterday, along with a red bus tour that provided some useless facts about the town, but some nice views.

The night finished with another big party to put an end to "Freshers Week." Well-timed indeed, because I think one more night would have completely done me in. From salsa to clubbing to pubbing, I have probably gone out more in the past week than in an average 2 or even 3 weeks in Tokyo. But along the way, I've met some people who I think will become good friends in a bit more time, and finally even some cool girls!

Scary British things in the upcoming week include presenting on conceptualizations of East Asia at a seminar class on Thursday and attending a formal "matriculation dinner" on Wednesday, which involves wearing a robe and using the correct fork during my meal. It only makes me think of Harry Potter, to be honest.

More fun things off the campus include a visit to Paris in 2 weekends!

Lovely Cambridge

As you can tell by my prolonged blogging absence, moving and settling into Cambridge has been time consuming more than anything else. Not only does it take time to unpack, buy the things I couldn't take with me, open a bank account, get a mobile phone and learn my way around the town, but it also takes even more time to go to social events and meet new people. After a while, of course I will be able to tell my friends to bugger off because I'm tired or have things to do, but in the beginning it's especially crucial to go clubbing and pubbing with the people I meet (not that I don't like clubbing or pubbing anyway!)

Here is a short summary of life at Cambridge thus far.

College: My college is Wolfson, comprised of about 800 grad students or "mature" undergrads only. It's also the most cosmopolitan and international of the colleges here. So far, all of my friends are from countries outside England-- Japan, Scotland, France, Canada, America, Ghana, Jordan, Greece, Cyprus, etc., so I don't feel like I'm really living in England until the pub closes at 11pm! My college is located a bit far from the town centre (about 20 minutes walk), so I bought a bike, and in what has become true EngRish GiRL fashion, have been cycling almost everywhere. Glad I was already riding around the streets of Tokyo before coming here, or I would probably be scared out of my wits by these English drivers who always seem to be on the wrong side of the road...

Academics: I had my first lecture yesterday, which is a course on the history of East Asia-- meaning China, the Koreas, Japan and Vietnam. There is a long-winded explanation as to why Vietnam is included (having to do with written language and Confucianism) which I will spare you, but I will of course be focusing on the contemporary security policy of Japan in relation to the region. There are only 5 others in my program, so classes are quite small. However, even more surprising is my schedule: one class every second Wednesday, and one class every Thursday... that's it! Though I will also be registering for a beginner French course so I can better understand the part of my life that seems to be increasingly influenced by a Frenchy. The rest of the time is for me to cultivate my ever expanding social life and squeeze in some R&R (reading and research) at some point along the way.

SOCIAL LIFE!: So far so good! I've been out every night this week, with what seems to have turned into 2 groups of friends-- one group of MBA students who love to go clubbing in town and who I "salsa" with... they are from Greece, Cyprus and Mexico; one group I've gone "pubbing" with... a former FT reporter from Tokyo (small world!) who is half-Japanese and half-Swedish and is in my program and a French PhD biochemist. Both are really good fun and we have a lot of laughs. The three of us signed up for rowing, with me as the little coxswain (!), so we'll see how that goes. I heard that to steer I might need a sense of direction, so perhaps it is not the best role for me? Other than that, there are a Scottish guy and girl across the hall from me who are boyfriend/girlfriend from university and are doing the same program here. They are a lot of fun as well, and I'm sure I'll get to know them better as time goes on.

The food is quite awful but edible. The weather has a mind of its own. I am back in a sterile residence hall with no hangers in my closet. I'm still jet lagged. But life is good!

On my way

Welcome to the new blog!

Here is a post I wrote on the airplane on the way here, so it's a bit outdated (Sept. 29, 2005). More current news a bit later!


So far, so good… but not very far.

Now aboard Korean Air en route to my new home.

I am almost used to this type of long flight by now, but I have the 9th hour jitters and decided to write a blog entry and upload it later when I have internet access.

I’ll begin from last night. My “last supper” with S was spent at our favorite sushi place just down the road from our apartment. I had my last fill of raw fish for a while, and then went back home to unpack and repack for the THIRD time. First I had condensed from two huge suitcases to one, and that one still proved to be 17 kilos too heavy for the 20 kilo limit. I unpacked yet another half of my stuff and left it in Tokyo, but still took my chances with a 24 kilo suitcase and a 13 kilo backpack to top it off.

The morning’s good-bye was naturally far from “tearless,” but I was not the distraught sobbing mess that I thought I would be, so a pat on the back for me. I must admit, however, I was distraught enough to take the subway one stop in the opposite direction, leading to a LOT of cursing and a nearly missed train to the airport. But luck was with me today. I made the train, and subsequently, Korean Air was kind enough to let my overweight/extra baggage on the plane without charging me the abominable fees therewith. Another deep breath released.

Finally, I entered the no-man’s land between Tokyo and London, with a layover in Seoul included. At the gate, I overheard a group of British girls loudly cackling about the toilets in the airport, which provided a toilet seat cover that automatically changed after use. Thinking I would just never get a grip on the accent, I heard one of the girls say, “Issho?” as she set off for the loo. “AH, they do know Japanese, then,” I thought, and reproached myself for judging too quickly. Then I realized, she said, “Are you sure?” and I returned to my dazed reverie.

On the airplane, the flight attendants never know whether to speak to me in English, Korean, or Japanese, and I usually end up with a mish-mosh of all three. But I reveled in my opportunity to play interpreter for one attendant, who needed the word “butta” for pork in Japanese. The bibimbab wasn’t so bad either.

The flight is rather empty, and there is one empty seat between me and a girl from Brisbane next to me. I’m already tired of explaining my story to people—why I’m American but look Asian but lived in Japan but am moving to England. Is there such a thing as being TOO international? I should just write a sign and attach it to my forehead so I don’t have to explain anymore. Not in a mood for conversation, I sit back in my seat staring between my laptop screen and the movie screen, playing Mr. & Mrs. Smith. And I wonder, “WHY?”