domingo, 7 de abril de 2013
sábado, 2 de febrero de 2013
Khmer land (pt.2)
Kompong Chray temple (banyan station), built in 1637. Once famous for its bat population. A bomb fell on the temple in 1968; the bats were scared away and haven't returned since.
This temple in Vietnamese is called the Cave temple (chùa Hang), for its entrance design (that looks like a tunnel to me). Here's the entrance with my rental Honda Super Cub.
Found a dog and he followed me around to pose for photos. Definitely a good model.
The temple has a sculpture club that's won many prizes. Artisans are invited here to teach interested monks. They insisted that I go see the exhibition room (and check out the two headed calf), and it was indeed very impressive.
This buffalo would take 3 months to finish.
Suddenly heard a commotion. Some monks started picking tamarind and others came out to cheer for the picker.
Everyone was so excited. They went to all the big trees.
Of course, there's always a loner. In this case, a dragon drawing monk:
Enjoying the fruits of their hard work. I got some too but could only take a couple of bites. They all laughed at my lack of sour tamarind eating skill.
This temple in Vietnamese is called the Cave temple (chùa Hang), for its entrance design (that looks like a tunnel to me). Here's the entrance with my rental Honda Super Cub.
Found a dog and he followed me around to pose for photos. Definitely a good model.
The temple has a sculpture club that's won many prizes. Artisans are invited here to teach interested monks. They insisted that I go see the exhibition room (and check out the two headed calf), and it was indeed very impressive.
Suddenly heard a commotion. Some monks started picking tamarind and others came out to cheer for the picker.
Everyone was so excited. They went to all the big trees.
Of course, there's always a loner. In this case, a dragon drawing monk:
Enjoying the fruits of their hard work. I got some too but could only take a couple of bites. They all laughed at my lack of sour tamarind eating skill.
Destination: Khmer land
On Thursday, I got to Tra Vinh province after a 4-hr bus from Dong Thap, only to find out that I wouldn't be able to go ahead with work. Already there, and not wanting to spend another 4 hours on bus to get back to SaiGon, I decided to stay for a day.
Next day, on a rental Honda (scooters here are simply referred as Honda), I rode along the major roads and just stopped at whatever caught my eyes and piqued my interest. 60% of the population here is Khmer and the most visual indication is all the Khmer temples dotting around.
At the third temple that I stumbled upon, the monks were friendly, and spoke Vietnamese well enough, that they invited me to stay for a drink, and then for lunch. Our conversation ranged from the differences between the Southern school of Buddhism (Theravada, found here and similar to what you'd see in Thailand, Cambodia, and Myanmar) and the Northern school (Mahayana with heavy Chinese influence), to how this land once was all Khmer land. On the latter, the monks were being quite circumspect, sandwiching their nostalgia with assurance that they weren't at all interested in politics: "Those who lost in history lost their land and country. But what could you do? The past is the past, some of us monks still know a little about history, but that's about it. We don't do anything; we let the government take care of it. We're monks already, we've given up on desire. All we want is a fair life for the people."
One of my favorite Vietnamese poets is Chế Lan Viên. The poetry collection that debuted and cemented his name in Vietnamese literature was published in the 1937 when he was 17. Điêu tàn (Ruins) shocked me, like other readers, but I came to love his lines of corpses and blood, ghosts and tombs. It was my first introduction to the history of Cham people and the pain and yearning of a people whose glorious past was no more. (Once thriving in central Vietnam, they're now reduced to one of the country's 53 minor ethnicities.) Since then, whenever I think about the history of Vietnam under Chinese dominance, I also think about the people whose land my people usurped and whose culture my culture relegated to the margin as something lowly and/or fit for exhibition only. The Cham, the Khmer, the Montagnard. Politico-cultural colonization is certainly not unique to the history of Vietnam. Mexico, Peru, Hawaii, I've met enough people who fought and are still fighting hard to keep the fire alive in their way of life in small and big ways. But this is more personal. I wanted to simply ask What does it feel like? but didn't dare to push that question to the monks.
(Here's a report by Human Rights Watch that I found on lowland Khmer. Lots of information that i'd never heard of, e.g. monk-led protests in 2007, pressure on and suppression of Buddhist activists.)
Selatro Temple (Điệp Thạch - Underground Rock)
The main temple was closed. I asked a guy why. Turned out he's a college student who's boarding at the temple. He went and got a monk to open it for me.
Next day, on a rental Honda (scooters here are simply referred as Honda), I rode along the major roads and just stopped at whatever caught my eyes and piqued my interest. 60% of the population here is Khmer and the most visual indication is all the Khmer temples dotting around.
At the third temple that I stumbled upon, the monks were friendly, and spoke Vietnamese well enough, that they invited me to stay for a drink, and then for lunch. Our conversation ranged from the differences between the Southern school of Buddhism (Theravada, found here and similar to what you'd see in Thailand, Cambodia, and Myanmar) and the Northern school (Mahayana with heavy Chinese influence), to how this land once was all Khmer land. On the latter, the monks were being quite circumspect, sandwiching their nostalgia with assurance that they weren't at all interested in politics: "Those who lost in history lost their land and country. But what could you do? The past is the past, some of us monks still know a little about history, but that's about it. We don't do anything; we let the government take care of it. We're monks already, we've given up on desire. All we want is a fair life for the people."
One of my favorite Vietnamese poets is Chế Lan Viên. The poetry collection that debuted and cemented his name in Vietnamese literature was published in the 1937 when he was 17. Điêu tàn (Ruins) shocked me, like other readers, but I came to love his lines of corpses and blood, ghosts and tombs. It was my first introduction to the history of Cham people and the pain and yearning of a people whose glorious past was no more. (Once thriving in central Vietnam, they're now reduced to one of the country's 53 minor ethnicities.) Since then, whenever I think about the history of Vietnam under Chinese dominance, I also think about the people whose land my people usurped and whose culture my culture relegated to the margin as something lowly and/or fit for exhibition only. The Cham, the Khmer, the Montagnard. Politico-cultural colonization is certainly not unique to the history of Vietnam. Mexico, Peru, Hawaii, I've met enough people who fought and are still fighting hard to keep the fire alive in their way of life in small and big ways. But this is more personal. I wanted to simply ask What does it feel like? but didn't dare to push that question to the monks.
(Here's a report by Human Rights Watch that I found on lowland Khmer. Lots of information that i'd never heard of, e.g. monk-led protests in 2007, pressure on and suppression of Buddhist activists.)
Selatro Temple (Điệp Thạch - Underground Rock)
The main temple was closed. I asked a guy why. Turned out he's a college student who's boarding at the temple. He went and got a monk to open it for me.
jueves, 31 de enero de 2013
wish list: chocolate
Going home in August, I was excited, knowing that my sister had brought me some chocolate in April. I opened the box that my mom had carefully put away, and it was a big-name brand (which equals barely average quality). Sis said she was in a rush and had to pick some up at the airport. No wonder! I could only digest a couple of pieces. That's the thing about chocolate for me. I'm addicted, but to quality, not to quantity. I'd rather not eat any for years than eat something less than gourmet (so spoiled i know).
As soon as i knew my sis was going home again in December, i asked her to buy some decent treats, not the airport kind. And yet I was again sorely disappointed. But i couldn't fault her. She moved to Zurich just a few days before flying out so she didn't know many places (plus, it's Zurich, not a French city). And then she spent a week in Bali, so the chocolate wasn't in, uhm, the best storage condition. Knowing that in no ways alleviated my sense of deprivation though. The last time I had some good one was all the way back in June when Col picked up some for me from Alegio's in Berkeley. It wasn't the best in the world (as advertised to him) but was up there.
I tried to suppress all thoughts about chocolate, but the wound was ripped open again when my friend Ysa posted on fb photos of the chocolate that she received (and got to eat). They looked divine, rubbing salt on my open sore. And I'm back on the crave. But this is Vietnam, it's like the antonym of good chocolate. In an act of desperation, I googled "best chocolate in Vietnam" and surprisingly came across a couple of interesting leads.
First is the Chocolate Buffet at the Hanoi's Metropole. Metropole is one of the top fine dining establishments in Hanoi. (I got to eat there once at a reception and every single thing was so damn delicious). All the reviews say the buffet is top-notch, mouth-watering, spectacular, sumptuous and scrumptious, blah blah blah. They even have chocolate spring rolls! What kind of sorcery is that! Not surprisingly it comes with a hefty price tag: $25. Sounds reasonable in dollars, but too sinful in Vietnam dong. But then, maybe i can eat myself out of ever wanting good chocolate again. Please let me indulge in some wishful thinking.
The other promising option is a chocolatier called Marou. They source cocoa beans in small farms in central and south Vietnam, and make the chocolate in Saigon. It's all local and small business. Sounds my type. And to top that off, behind it stand 2 French guys. French. Certainly helps, in my opinion. I'll be in Saigon in a couple of days and can't wait to taste their dark chocolate bar.
As soon as i knew my sis was going home again in December, i asked her to buy some decent treats, not the airport kind. And yet I was again sorely disappointed. But i couldn't fault her. She moved to Zurich just a few days before flying out so she didn't know many places (plus, it's Zurich, not a French city). And then she spent a week in Bali, so the chocolate wasn't in, uhm, the best storage condition. Knowing that in no ways alleviated my sense of deprivation though. The last time I had some good one was all the way back in June when Col picked up some for me from Alegio's in Berkeley. It wasn't the best in the world (as advertised to him) but was up there.
I tried to suppress all thoughts about chocolate, but the wound was ripped open again when my friend Ysa posted on fb photos of the chocolate that she received (and got to eat). They looked divine, rubbing salt on my open sore. And I'm back on the crave. But this is Vietnam, it's like the antonym of good chocolate. In an act of desperation, I googled "best chocolate in Vietnam" and surprisingly came across a couple of interesting leads.
First is the Chocolate Buffet at the Hanoi's Metropole. Metropole is one of the top fine dining establishments in Hanoi. (I got to eat there once at a reception and every single thing was so damn delicious). All the reviews say the buffet is top-notch, mouth-watering, spectacular, sumptuous and scrumptious, blah blah blah. They even have chocolate spring rolls! What kind of sorcery is that! Not surprisingly it comes with a hefty price tag: $25. Sounds reasonable in dollars, but too sinful in Vietnam dong. But then, maybe i can eat myself out of ever wanting good chocolate again. Please let me indulge in some wishful thinking.
The other promising option is a chocolatier called Marou. They source cocoa beans in small farms in central and south Vietnam, and make the chocolate in Saigon. It's all local and small business. Sounds my type. And to top that off, behind it stand 2 French guys. French. Certainly helps, in my opinion. I'll be in Saigon in a couple of days and can't wait to taste their dark chocolate bar.
lunes, 28 de enero de 2013
Destination: Đồng Tháp
Things I know:
- an area called Đồng Tháp Mười, but i don't even know what and where exactly it is, and why it is famous.
- a town called Sadec, where part of the film L'amant (the Lover) was set. (A haunting book of longing and desire, adapted into a nostalgically sensual film, the first Western production shot in the country post 1975).
It is not all a tourist destination, evidenced by the dearth of hotel information online. I got off at the bus terminal and just asked around. Found a place and settled in. Dad called; he remembered that he has a friend here in the city of Cao Lanh (the provincial capital). That's the wonderful thing about the military: it's a hotpot of people from all different places.
15 years ago, my dad went a way for a year of training in the city of Nha Trang. Uncle Hung was in the same cohort as my dad. Back then, cell phones were a rarity. Once or twice a week, uncle Hung would trek to the local post office to call home. When my dad knew about this, he offered his cell phone number to uncle Hung so that his wife could call and he wouldn't have to take the walk at night any more.
Uncle Hung is now the second-in-command of the provincial army, and he offered me a military "escort" - one of his men can take me around to visit the recipients. Made me feel like a VIP, but i think i'll just opt for the xe ôm.
Uncle Hung explained to me that Đồng Tháp Mười back in the day was all uninhabited wetland where hardcore resistance fighters used to hide out. (Mystery solved!) It has turned into a major rice production area since. The only part that still resembles the past is Tràm Chim, which is now a national park and Ramsar site, famous for its crane population. Too bad I have no time for sightseeing on this trip, but definitely next time around.
sábado, 26 de enero de 2013
On the road again... soon enough
I always thought that once i got back home i'd not be able to travel much again, that i'd have to settle down so to speak.
My prediction seemed to come true when i moved back. 4 months locked down in Hanoi. But now with this new job, half of my work time is on the road, here, there, and everywhere (but all within Vietnam of course). I think it'd suit me just fine. I'm excited to see parts of the country that I'm not at all familiar with. I'm excited that i don't work 9-5; i don't even have an office to work in for that matter. What more could a undisciplined soul ask for? I could already see a host of my friends nodding: Yeah you'd totally do something like that. I guess i'm just that predictable, people!
Tomorrow, the journey starts again. I'm nervous, almost like the first time I stepped out on the road, arm out thumb up, having absolutely no idea what was gonna happen. It might seem funny to people but I feel less safe in my own country than in other places (and yes, I traveled by myself to very conservative regions in Algeria and India). I'm Vietnamese, and have to play by the Vietnamese rules. Much less leeway than when I'm abroad and can fake ignorance to do what pleases me.
In a week, I'll know if I like the aftertaste.
martes, 15 de enero de 2013
hay que vivir bonito
Hello world and hello friends that stumble on my blog from time to time,
Here's another attempt at jotting down my life.
Biggest news is that I'm back in Vietnam after 7 years. The typical reaction from relatives, friends, acquaintances was: Why did you come back? Why didn't you just get married and settle abroad? It's so chaotic back here you won't be able to stand it.
There are various reasons, one being my stubbornness to prove myself, to prove that i can make it back here. It hasn't been smooth. After years of living life the way you want it, moving back with any parents would be hard. Riding around in scooter is stressful; sometimes i feel like my head would explode if i heard another honk. I miss the ocean, miss the smell of salt, miss the taste of it when i lick my lips. And perhaps a time of more innocence and less worry.
I worked briefly at a planning institute and fought a lot with mom and dad so that i could quit. It tired and depressed me to listen to pretty words from people who would do nothing close to what they say (or worse, the opposite of what they say). They say patience. What you need is patience to get to the place where you can do what you want. But no thank you, i can't live with pretentiousness.
While waiting to quit that job, thanks to Ngoc, i started working at a PR firm (her workplace). It kept me sane. The work was straightforward. I knew what i was doing and why i was doing it.
And now after 4 months of digging for directions, I got another chance. I already know there will be some big challenges and it will be trying both physically and psychologically. But i'll get to do something that is meaningful to me because it serves a greater good.
Sometimes I read back my blog and journal entries, and come across advice that people (usually random strangers) gave me about life. And i'd always cry. They all tell me to be who i am. Maybe because they're not my mom and don't have to fret about my future. Still, that's what i need to hear from time to time: do what you believe in.
Here's another attempt at jotting down my life.
Biggest news is that I'm back in Vietnam after 7 years. The typical reaction from relatives, friends, acquaintances was: Why did you come back? Why didn't you just get married and settle abroad? It's so chaotic back here you won't be able to stand it.
There are various reasons, one being my stubbornness to prove myself, to prove that i can make it back here. It hasn't been smooth. After years of living life the way you want it, moving back with any parents would be hard. Riding around in scooter is stressful; sometimes i feel like my head would explode if i heard another honk. I miss the ocean, miss the smell of salt, miss the taste of it when i lick my lips. And perhaps a time of more innocence and less worry.
I worked briefly at a planning institute and fought a lot with mom and dad so that i could quit. It tired and depressed me to listen to pretty words from people who would do nothing close to what they say (or worse, the opposite of what they say). They say patience. What you need is patience to get to the place where you can do what you want. But no thank you, i can't live with pretentiousness.
While waiting to quit that job, thanks to Ngoc, i started working at a PR firm (her workplace). It kept me sane. The work was straightforward. I knew what i was doing and why i was doing it.
And now after 4 months of digging for directions, I got another chance. I already know there will be some big challenges and it will be trying both physically and psychologically. But i'll get to do something that is meaningful to me because it serves a greater good.
Sometimes I read back my blog and journal entries, and come across advice that people (usually random strangers) gave me about life. And i'd always cry. They all tell me to be who i am. Maybe because they're not my mom and don't have to fret about my future. Still, that's what i need to hear from time to time: do what you believe in.
miércoles, 28 de abril de 2010
more life updates
Haven't been writing here, and for a good reason. I've got better at entrying my journal, and it's just too much work to keep up with both.
Things have been going smoothly, and at the same time overwhelming, and that's not an oxymoron. I'm pleased with everything that I have going on here, but it's just a little too much on my plate right now.
We have a Bharatanatyam performance in 2 days. I'm only dancing a short piece, but it's still a ton of work. We have at least 3 practices each week, and last weekend, we were away in Tepotzlan at Paty's (my teacher) house to rehearse.
In the office, I've pretty much been by myself. Laura, the other intern (now a former intern), already left at the beginning of this month for a job at a law firm. Every day, I have to answer all the emails, all the phone calls, talk with everyone who walks into our center, and at the same time, put together on several presentations (state promotions for Illinois, test preps), draft the newsletter and continue working on two big projects: study group and pre-departure orientation. The way I usually work is concentrate and be productive for a couple of hours, then slow down for about half an hour, and then restart my engine. With all these deadlines coming down on me bam bam bam, I hardly even have time to breath, let alone slow down.
Also work-related, met with Megan for a mid-term evaluation, and learned more crucial lessons on professionalism. I love walking barefoot, and have a problem keeping my shoes on. Especially when i sit at one place (a.k.a. in front of the computer in the office) for a long time, I have the habit of kicking my shoes out, and then I'd get up and walk around barefoot. I also need to change my postures from time to time, and that may mean sitting cross-legged on my chair. All of this looks casual and unprofessional. Another thing that Megan brought up was my style of communication. She said I was too blunt and a little too casual with higher-up like Alan, which is totally true. While I understand that Alan is the top boss, it's hard to avoid chitchatting with him. We speak in English (i tend to be very casual in English) and he makes you feel like you're one of his best pals. And when I don't feel distant from someone, I can also be very direct. Also, (unfortunately), it's hard for me to "praise" or complement to people of higher ranks. It feels both inappropriate (they're the boss after all - they don't need my evaluation) and too ass-kissing. Maybe I just need to learn how. Or maybe someone can teach me another way to look at it that is not: making your boss feel good about him/herself so that you can become a favorite --> puke
Things have been going smoothly, and at the same time overwhelming, and that's not an oxymoron. I'm pleased with everything that I have going on here, but it's just a little too much on my plate right now.
We have a Bharatanatyam performance in 2 days. I'm only dancing a short piece, but it's still a ton of work. We have at least 3 practices each week, and last weekend, we were away in Tepotzlan at Paty's (my teacher) house to rehearse.
In the office, I've pretty much been by myself. Laura, the other intern (now a former intern), already left at the beginning of this month for a job at a law firm. Every day, I have to answer all the emails, all the phone calls, talk with everyone who walks into our center, and at the same time, put together on several presentations (state promotions for Illinois, test preps), draft the newsletter and continue working on two big projects: study group and pre-departure orientation. The way I usually work is concentrate and be productive for a couple of hours, then slow down for about half an hour, and then restart my engine. With all these deadlines coming down on me bam bam bam, I hardly even have time to breath, let alone slow down.
Also work-related, met with Megan for a mid-term evaluation, and learned more crucial lessons on professionalism. I love walking barefoot, and have a problem keeping my shoes on. Especially when i sit at one place (a.k.a. in front of the computer in the office) for a long time, I have the habit of kicking my shoes out, and then I'd get up and walk around barefoot. I also need to change my postures from time to time, and that may mean sitting cross-legged on my chair. All of this looks casual and unprofessional. Another thing that Megan brought up was my style of communication. She said I was too blunt and a little too casual with higher-up like Alan, which is totally true. While I understand that Alan is the top boss, it's hard to avoid chitchatting with him. We speak in English (i tend to be very casual in English) and he makes you feel like you're one of his best pals. And when I don't feel distant from someone, I can also be very direct. Also, (unfortunately), it's hard for me to "praise" or complement to people of higher ranks. It feels both inappropriate (they're the boss after all - they don't need my evaluation) and too ass-kissing. Maybe I just need to learn how. Or maybe someone can teach me another way to look at it that is not: making your boss feel good about him/herself so that you can become a favorite --> puke
lunes, 8 de marzo de 2010
grad school updates
Mundus.Public.Policy: rejected
NYU: as good as rejected, i.e. accepted with barely any aids (very typical)
Princeton: dubious app status
Mundus.Urbano & East.West.Center: pending
NYU: as good as rejected, i.e. accepted with barely any aids (very typical)
Princeton: dubious app status
Mundus.Urbano & East.West.Center: pending
viernes, 26 de febrero de 2010
updates on professional life
Yesterday, I gave half of a presentation on "how to choose a college major" ... in Spanish! I thought it went pretty well and I did a decent job in explaining - especially to the parents - the confusing system of a liberal arts education: how a major is just a part of your whole undergraduate degree, what it means to major or minor, how it is possible to have a major and a minor, two majors at the same time, etc. I was proud that I managed to stick to most of the public speaking principles that I've learned: energy level, interactiveness, eye contact, etc. and that I was fumbling on my Spanish. Still, I need to get the feedback from Megan.
On a less positive note, I just received a rejection email from Mundus M.A.P.P, the Master program in Public Policy in Europe. It's a downright rejection and strangely, I don't feel that rejected --- maybe i'll start tormenting myself once i've had time to chew on it more, but right now it's just a bummer.
On a less positive note, I just received a rejection email from Mundus M.A.P.P, the Master program in Public Policy in Europe. It's a downright rejection and strangely, I don't feel that rejected --- maybe i'll start tormenting myself once i've had time to chew on it more, but right now it's just a bummer.
sábado, 20 de febrero de 2010
the invisibility of disaster
I'd read about the torrential rain in Cusco (and other regions in Peru) this year from the Peruvian blogs that I follow, but it only made international news when the tourists got trapped in Machu Picchu/Aguas Calientes after the Urubamba river swelled up and cut off the railroad tracks, forcing the government into helicoptering them back to Cusco. What never seemed to make the news is the ruined lives of the indigenous who live in pueblitos in the mountains, whose house have been destroyed, whose little stock of food has been swept away.
martes, 16 de febrero de 2010
Lunar New Year in Mexico
which was also Valentine's this year, was spent in Veracruz carnavaling.
The parade itself was ok. The seats were charged 60 pesos each. I didn't pay - we were among the illegals - but still thought it should have been free for all. There were raised platforms everywhere along the seafront where the parade took place. Before and after the parade, each of these platforms had their own programs to entertain the public. Some had bands playing, but most were just doing stupid games where half-naked or almost naked people humped each other on stage: guys-girls, guys-guys, girls-girls. I was really glad that I was with a couple of (Mexican) guys. I wouldn't have felt comfortable at all if I had been with just the girls.
The beer and the dancing were the best part - it's a party after all. On Saturday, after the parade had ended around midnight, we headed to a free salsa concert by a supposedly very well-known singer from Puerto Rico. I was pretty bad in the beginning - could barely follow the beats, but I did manage to learn a few steps by the end. Latin American guys are just so gracious when they dance *sigh*. There was an American girl in our group, Chelsea, who studied abroad in Columbia, and she danced super. I have to be honest to say that I was a little jealous to see her move. On Sunday, we started drinking around 4:30 p.m. and I didn't sleep that night - was out until 5 in the morning. We walked from street to street, and stopped to dance whenever we came across a mariachi band or even if it was just a cervezaria blasting out music.
The parade itself was ok. The seats were charged 60 pesos each. I didn't pay - we were among the illegals - but still thought it should have been free for all. There were raised platforms everywhere along the seafront where the parade took place. Before and after the parade, each of these platforms had their own programs to entertain the public. Some had bands playing, but most were just doing stupid games where half-naked or almost naked people humped each other on stage: guys-girls, guys-guys, girls-girls. I was really glad that I was with a couple of (Mexican) guys. I wouldn't have felt comfortable at all if I had been with just the girls.
The beer and the dancing were the best part - it's a party after all. On Saturday, after the parade had ended around midnight, we headed to a free salsa concert by a supposedly very well-known singer from Puerto Rico. I was pretty bad in the beginning - could barely follow the beats, but I did manage to learn a few steps by the end. Latin American guys are just so gracious when they dance *sigh*. There was an American girl in our group, Chelsea, who studied abroad in Columbia, and she danced super. I have to be honest to say that I was a little jealous to see her move. On Sunday, we started drinking around 4:30 p.m. and I didn't sleep that night - was out until 5 in the morning. We walked from street to street, and stopped to dance whenever we came across a mariachi band or even if it was just a cervezaria blasting out music.
the woe of traveling
is meeting people that you know you will have to part soon and might never have a chance to see again. I often try to persuade myself that it's all worth it, being able to make special connections with people you hardly know, sharing so many beautiful moments and the joy of life, learning how to live better each day. It's a little bit easier when the connection is platonic; friendship is something that I can try to keep through the internet. But if it's romantic, what am i supposed to do?
sábado, 30 de enero de 2010
Culture shock
None so far. I've been here in D.F. for a week, and everything is going fine. Have not had any intense experience or frustrating moment. It's probably because I spend half of my day at the office, and when I come home, I was either looking for an apartment, or after I've moved, I just spend a lot of time in my room. The other reason is that my Spanish is actually functional, not like when I first came to France, India, or Peru and was totally overwhelmed. Knowing the language helps tremendously. But seriously, just walking around on the street, it hasn't been as bad as some people have warned me. I get some looks, but people don't call me names or give me catcalls that often.
I got a great room in a super nice - though a lil too bourgeois - neighborhood called Condesa. It's supposed to be one of the safest parts in towns, lots of foreigners, lots of restaurants and bars. I was walking back home yesterday (Friday) around 10 and it was happening. I've been tempted to go around and look for a job working at one of these bars. But I have curfew at 11, so that wouldn't work. The hour's the only drawback of the room I'm renting. I'm paying 2500 pesos ($200) for an all-furnished room, all services included. It's a sweet deal; most people pay 3500-4000 or more, and I've not met anyone who's paying less than 3000 pesos, so I'm pretty happy. My landlady doesn't usually rent out this room, which was her daughter's. I'm actually her first tenant. She has a friend who has an account on compartodepa who saw my profile and told her to rent it out to me. It's a little strange, but it works for me. She's very grandmotherly. I has been sick, and just now she knocked on the door, asking if she could bring me some tea. I went down to the kitchen with her, and she made hot water for me, and then pulling out honey and lemon for my tea. She's also very "miedosa" (fearful) and whenever I go out, she would ask me where I am going, how I am going, saying how dangerous it is and tell me to be careful at least 5 times and then end with "Que Dios te cuide, hija" (May God protect you).
The only thing that is not so well is that I'm still sick. I got a cold right before I left San Franciso, and usually I would cover within 2 days, but it's been a week. I'm not coughing as much, but my nose's really bothering me. For the first few days, I slept little, waking up during the night because my nose got so stuffy that I couldn't breath. Now, I sleep extremely well (on an orthopedic bed), but for the whole day, my nose is so runny that I have to blow it every 10 minutes or so. And lately, there has been blood. I googled and found that it was nothing serious. Either I've blown my nose so much that I broke some nose vessels or because the weather's too dry. I'm not worried, but it's annoying. I know so many ways to cure a sore throat, like gurgling with salt water, drinking tea with honey and lemon, eating ginger, but none for curing a stuffy or runny nose. Arghh....
I got a great room in a super nice - though a lil too bourgeois - neighborhood called Condesa. It's supposed to be one of the safest parts in towns, lots of foreigners, lots of restaurants and bars. I was walking back home yesterday (Friday) around 10 and it was happening. I've been tempted to go around and look for a job working at one of these bars. But I have curfew at 11, so that wouldn't work. The hour's the only drawback of the room I'm renting. I'm paying 2500 pesos ($200) for an all-furnished room, all services included. It's a sweet deal; most people pay 3500-4000 or more, and I've not met anyone who's paying less than 3000 pesos, so I'm pretty happy. My landlady doesn't usually rent out this room, which was her daughter's. I'm actually her first tenant. She has a friend who has an account on compartodepa who saw my profile and told her to rent it out to me. It's a little strange, but it works for me. She's very grandmotherly. I has been sick, and just now she knocked on the door, asking if she could bring me some tea. I went down to the kitchen with her, and she made hot water for me, and then pulling out honey and lemon for my tea. She's also very "miedosa" (fearful) and whenever I go out, she would ask me where I am going, how I am going, saying how dangerous it is and tell me to be careful at least 5 times and then end with "Que Dios te cuide, hija" (May God protect you).
The only thing that is not so well is that I'm still sick. I got a cold right before I left San Franciso, and usually I would cover within 2 days, but it's been a week. I'm not coughing as much, but my nose's really bothering me. For the first few days, I slept little, waking up during the night because my nose got so stuffy that I couldn't breath. Now, I sleep extremely well (on an orthopedic bed), but for the whole day, my nose is so runny that I have to blow it every 10 minutes or so. And lately, there has been blood. I googled and found that it was nothing serious. Either I've blown my nose so much that I broke some nose vessels or because the weather's too dry. I'm not worried, but it's annoying. I know so many ways to cure a sore throat, like gurgling with salt water, drinking tea with honey and lemon, eating ginger, but none for curing a stuffy or runny nose. Arghh....
lunes, 25 de enero de 2010
exhaustion, Google Alerts, and first lesson of professionalism
Second day in Mexico City, first day at work.
I'm totally exhausted. I had a full day from 9 to 5 (starting from tomorrow, it's 8:30 to 5:30), I just spent 3 hours walking around to look for a room, and I'm still sick.
The first day was full of normal orientation stuff like who's who, where's where, until my boss, M. mentioned my blog and how it was not professional of me to portray the organization in a negative light. I was like: wait, what, my blog? what are you talking about? (*thinking: how the f*** did you come across about my blog?*) Imagine how incredulous I was. I suddenly remember that about a week ago, according to GoogleAnalytics, my blog had 4 visitors from Mexico City. Having no friends here, I was surprised but assumed that someone just stumbled upon my page through some random google link. I was dead wrong. They were my boss and her supervisors, reading one of the posts about my Mexican visa saga when I happened to mention Educ___USA. The exact quote is: "What's more, Educ___USA, the organization I'm interning for in Mexico, might not even be authorized to pay foreigners." At that time, I wrote the full name of the organization and apparently, the link was sent to the really high-up boss in Washington DC from Google Alerts. (For those of you out of the know, like myself, the program tracks down every single mention of a word of your choice - in this case, Educ___USA - posted in the net.) I myself think that all of my frustration was directed towards the Mexican consulate and definitely not Educ___USA, but I can see why they still thought that it constituted a "poor professional judgment." It was an important lesson to learn, from now on, I just need to be extra careful when I mention these proper names. I was also a little uncomfortable that some people at work have seen my blog, though I'm sure that they have tons of other things to take care of and won't go back to read it.
I'm totally exhausted. I had a full day from 9 to 5 (starting from tomorrow, it's 8:30 to 5:30), I just spent 3 hours walking around to look for a room, and I'm still sick.
The first day was full of normal orientation stuff like who's who, where's where, until my boss, M. mentioned my blog and how it was not professional of me to portray the organization in a negative light. I was like: wait, what, my blog? what are you talking about? (*thinking: how the f*** did you come across about my blog?*) Imagine how incredulous I was. I suddenly remember that about a week ago, according to GoogleAnalytics, my blog had 4 visitors from Mexico City. Having no friends here, I was surprised but assumed that someone just stumbled upon my page through some random google link. I was dead wrong. They were my boss and her supervisors, reading one of the posts about my Mexican visa saga when I happened to mention Educ___USA. The exact quote is: "What's more, Educ___USA, the organization I'm interning for in Mexico, might not even be authorized to pay foreigners." At that time, I wrote the full name of the organization and apparently, the link was sent to the really high-up boss in Washington DC from Google Alerts. (For those of you out of the know, like myself, the program tracks down every single mention of a word of your choice - in this case, Educ___USA - posted in the net.) I myself think that all of my frustration was directed towards the Mexican consulate and definitely not Educ___USA, but I can see why they still thought that it constituted a "poor professional judgment." It was an important lesson to learn, from now on, I just need to be extra careful when I mention these proper names. I was also a little uncomfortable that some people at work have seen my blog, though I'm sure that they have tons of other things to take care of and won't go back to read it.
sábado, 23 de enero de 2010
bye bye US
I finally got my visa on Thursday, after 6 visits to the Mexican consulate. I was sad that I would not see the receptionist and the two security guards anymore; they were always very sympathetic each time they saw me turn up at the door looking both helpless and exasperated.
Today's my last day in Oakland, and maybe in the U.S. I might not be able to come back to the States when I'm done with my internship in May. I've been thinking about the 3.5 years that I've spent here. I have changed so much and yet I am still the same person. I still feel many things that I felt when I first left home and came here the summer of 2005. But this may be something that I can better think about when I'm in Mexico.
Anyways, it has felt real good to have something to look forward to so that my days wouldn't feel so pointless. Over the next few months, I won't have to worry about how to occupy my time every morning when I wake up. I have so many plans for Mexico, to work hard, to meet people and get to know the city, to live on and only on the $500/month stipend, to have my friends come over to visit, to hopefully find a Bharatanatyam class, etc.
Mexico, here I come.
Today's my last day in Oakland, and maybe in the U.S. I might not be able to come back to the States when I'm done with my internship in May. I've been thinking about the 3.5 years that I've spent here. I have changed so much and yet I am still the same person. I still feel many things that I felt when I first left home and came here the summer of 2005. But this may be something that I can better think about when I'm in Mexico.
Anyways, it has felt real good to have something to look forward to so that my days wouldn't feel so pointless. Over the next few months, I won't have to worry about how to occupy my time every morning when I wake up. I have so many plans for Mexico, to work hard, to meet people and get to know the city, to live on and only on the $500/month stipend, to have my friends come over to visit, to hopefully find a Bharatanatyam class, etc.
Mexico, here I come.
jueves, 21 de enero de 2010
some more photos from Chicago
And last, we bought this gorgeous wedding dress for $2.40 at the best thrift store i've been to (and i've been to many). It fit Jordan perfectly:
miércoles, 20 de enero de 2010
the two-price system (chính sách hai giá)
In the early and mid 90s, when Vietnam first opened its doors to foreign visitors, the two-price system was a given. It was not just grocery shop owners who would quote a price 10 or 20 times higher to a foreigner than to a local, but even train and flight tickets would cost twice as much. The rationale was that all foreigners were far richer than Vietnamese, and if they had enough money to travel around, they must have been able to afford the price difference. The official system was abolished in Vietnam about a decade ago, but I recently discovered that it actually just moved abroad.
When I was at school, I tried without success to renew my passport because the Vietnamese embassy would not pick up my calls. This time, being in San Francisco, I could just walk to the consulate to hand in my application. Before I set out, I spent a whole evening listening to horror stories about the consulate from the Vietnamese family I'm staying with - they've dealt with the consulate on several occasions, having lived here for more than 15 years. Anyways, the bone of the story was not although the official price is $50 and the process time is 5 days (as listed on the website of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs), if you indeed pay $50, you will have to wait at least a month. If you want to get your new passport faster, be willing to fork out a couple of hundred bucks. And the more urgent you need it, the more they'll charge you. They're ruthless (không có tình người). All the while, I was asking myself: Should I bring with me a print-out from the Ministry's website and argue with them, because I can't let them do whatever they want? Or should I just give in to this system; it's not worth getting in troubles, especially when I need to get this done, and it's not in my power anyways? I decided on the former. But truth to be told, it was more because there was no way I could throw away $200 to renew my passport. To hell with that.
In the end, I was lucky to get my passport within the same day for $90. I told myself that the difference was tolerable, considering that it's "rush" though I well knew that it was not true. It would have cost $180, but I got a 50% "student discount" (yes, it does sound like they were being really nice). They actually wanted to charge me the full price since I already graduated, but I managed to talk them out of it. I really did not have a job, and I was still under my school's sponsor.
Anyways, I was waiting for my passport at the consulate, I talked to a cute half-Vietnamese guy who was there to apply for a tourist visa. They made him pay $115 for a --hold your breath-- 1-month visa. He asked me sheepishly: "Don't you think it's rather uhm steep?" And I was like: "What do you mean "rather uhm steep"? That's outrageous." Do some comparisons: My 6-month visa to India cost $40, to Peru $30. To the U.S. it was $131, but for a whole year. I didn't have internet there to check the official price for him. But this is what I found later:
less than 1 month: $40
1 month - 6 month: $70
6 month - year: $110
This is what I'd call steep, but at least not outrageous.
Btw, my friend Trang renewed her passport in Vietnam and it cost 200k VND (about $12). Do they really think that people living and working abroad are all uber-rich? Bullshit. There are dollar millionaires in Vietnam, and what about those living and working in countries whose standard of living is comparable to, or even lower than that of Vietnam?
Go Vietnam go!
When I was at school, I tried without success to renew my passport because the Vietnamese embassy would not pick up my calls. This time, being in San Francisco, I could just walk to the consulate to hand in my application. Before I set out, I spent a whole evening listening to horror stories about the consulate from the Vietnamese family I'm staying with - they've dealt with the consulate on several occasions, having lived here for more than 15 years. Anyways, the bone of the story was not although the official price is $50 and the process time is 5 days (as listed on the website of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs), if you indeed pay $50, you will have to wait at least a month. If you want to get your new passport faster, be willing to fork out a couple of hundred bucks. And the more urgent you need it, the more they'll charge you. They're ruthless (không có tình người). All the while, I was asking myself: Should I bring with me a print-out from the Ministry's website and argue with them, because I can't let them do whatever they want? Or should I just give in to this system; it's not worth getting in troubles, especially when I need to get this done, and it's not in my power anyways? I decided on the former. But truth to be told, it was more because there was no way I could throw away $200 to renew my passport. To hell with that.
In the end, I was lucky to get my passport within the same day for $90. I told myself that the difference was tolerable, considering that it's "rush" though I well knew that it was not true. It would have cost $180, but I got a 50% "student discount" (yes, it does sound like they were being really nice). They actually wanted to charge me the full price since I already graduated, but I managed to talk them out of it. I really did not have a job, and I was still under my school's sponsor.
Anyways, I was waiting for my passport at the consulate, I talked to a cute half-Vietnamese guy who was there to apply for a tourist visa. They made him pay $115 for a --hold your breath-- 1-month visa. He asked me sheepishly: "Don't you think it's rather uhm steep?" And I was like: "What do you mean "rather uhm steep"? That's outrageous." Do some comparisons: My 6-month visa to India cost $40, to Peru $30. To the U.S. it was $131, but for a whole year. I didn't have internet there to check the official price for him. But this is what I found later:
less than 1 month: $40
1 month - 6 month: $70
6 month - year: $110
This is what I'd call steep, but at least not outrageous.
Btw, my friend Trang renewed her passport in Vietnam and it cost 200k VND (about $12). Do they really think that people living and working abroad are all uber-rich? Bullshit. There are dollar millionaires in Vietnam, and what about those living and working in countries whose standard of living is comparable to, or even lower than that of Vietnam?
Go Vietnam go!
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