ReverieCQ's Xanga

Change and timelines

Tue, 21 Nov 2006 06:56:13 GMT

It's been an extremely long time since I last wrote on Xanga. I suppose it is because I associate it with my memories in Beijing, abroad. But I've come to the realization that, well, Penn's not so bad after all. And perhaps it wasn't the study abroad experience as an isolated variable in the whole scheme of things being what distinguished my last spring semester, but the leisurely, the sudden change of pace from frentic, clashing and colliding rhythms of Wharton, free nature of studying at a more "liberals arts" oriented foreign institution. That, and... China is China. I love it from deep down inside.

5 classes, taking it a bit "easy" this semester. I ended up dropping Accounting 102 and tried to lean as much as I could towards liberal arts classes under this business-dominated framework that Huntsman kids are subject to. But next semester will be different. Ah, brace yourselves. Recruiting Schmucruiting, the epitome of why Wharton is attractive and distinct shall commence in a hop, skip, and baby jump away. After Thanksgiving, it's going swing into play.

But aside from academics and classes (probably 6 again... :/ out of necessity since I slacked a little with the Wharotn reqs this semester), I think I will still be looking forward to next semester. Things are different now. I think being abroad has made me mature in many ways. My thoughts and perspectives of life have shifted. Perhaps this is what people mean when they say gaining a "global perspective" on things. Goodness, I sound like the quintessential Huntsman poster child. That, or the OIP brochure student. Regardless, I find myself thinking about "oh, what is the significance of this __________ event when 1 out of 8 people in China live under the poverty line" or "in two years, will I even remember this?" seeing as even freshman year here at Penn grows evermore distant, allusive even. I find myself really having to think about where I was at a specific point in time.

Actually are we all slowly losing our grasp of a "timeline" of our lives? Major external environmental disruptions like breaking news or events don't even seem to register and occupy a point on this "timeline" for me anymore. I've become (we've become?) so egocentric and removed, so bubbled in our own fixed set of choices, interactions with people, behaviors that our individual tracks and paths can go on without many intersections. Hm, okay, that was a little dismal, but nonetheless, I think that's one of the things that has changed- my awareness of unconscious "isolationism," especially given that all the other Huntsmanites from my grade are abroad, I just barely got back from seeing my grandparents and relatives in China, and seeing alum (seniors when I had been here last year) out in "the real world" who are periodically coming back to Penn to dispel some of their new learnings...

Thanksgiving should be great. I'm really looking forward to being home with my family and another change of environment. I think I'm one of those people who can't quite always stay at the same place for too long... transition, change, adjustments are good.

Silence of the States

Tue, 29 Aug 2006 16:06:20 GMT

It is my fourth day back in the lovely U S of A, and I think I've dawned upon an odd explanation for the hyped Americans and depression syndrome... and strange mental illnesses affecting all ages. Maybe people, in addition to being able to keep busy and amused, need the noises of life every so often.

In the mornings, the only sounds I hear are the barely audible chirps of a flittering sparrow and surely the whooshes of the occassionaly passing cars a few streets over. Yet these minute decibals still reverberate in the empty house occupied only by me for the great majority of the day. Dad is at work from 7am-8pm, and Mom and Em are still avec les grandparents chez la maison de Nanjing. At noon, after I prepare my own simple grilled chicken salad and glass of tasty water, the birds choir has ceased to sing, and all I hear is rhythmic whooshing of cars.

I think of the noises made by people moving around, chatting with one another in sports announcer volumes on the streets; the screeches of their bike tires coming to a stop; opening and closing slams of the public transportation bus doors; cell phone rings followed by individuals bellowing into their devices... the sounds of Chinese citizens' daily life were once stimuli to my eardrums, all hours of the day.

But inside my house here in the suburb, East Brunswick, NJ, one person can progress through the day without involuntarily being aware of others in the same sphere. It definitely is a double-edged sword. Right now, I am half sure that I enjoy it--- alone time, peaceful in a world of crashed planes and a terrorized America. I can confirm that daily life here is completely different than that of what I had been living mere weeks ago-- from Beijing, to Nanjing, to HK, Macau, Shenzhen, to Shanghai, my travels and experiences in each city...well, were never noiseless, let's just say.

Before I know it, night befalls. And, there is a new, small variation on 'the silence I hear.' Even if being in China has made me more appreciative of personal space (hm, perhaps even space in general...), I'm quite glad that I have my own ways to create sounds pleasurable to my ear throughout my hours home and keep somewhat occupied.

Mugged...almost

Tue, 11 Jul 2006 06:53:22 GMT

The week was a whirl of people, places, happenings. Besides an incredible explosive ending to the World Cup, quite a few bursts of unexpected events have flashed before me as well. But I must say, yesterday, while walking back from work, I had quite an encounter.

I was doing my usual crossing of Jianguomen dajie, which expands 6 lanes wide, through the walkway underground. In one hand, I was carrying my purse, and in the other, I was holding a paper Watson Wyatt labeled company bag with pamphlets from work. *tinkle tinkle* .. my text message sound from the cell goes off, causing me to then unzip the bag, reach in, and grab the cell. Note: bag was left open.

In the span of 3 minutes, between taking my cell out and slipping it back in, a ÐÂ½®ÈË thief who are usually armed with knives and other sharp weaponry determined that I was his unsuspecting victim. He had creeped up to my left and was reaching in. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the inside semi-detachable pocket of my bag, where some people keep their large bills flip up. Reacting as quickly as I could, I turned my head and swung my body around to face his side. Though pickpocket had already retracted his arm, he was still within half an arm's length away from me. I extended my arm out as I was turning in an attempt to grab him, and the force with which I turned actually propelled my left limb to make solid contact with his shoulder.

Can't quite explain what motivated me to be so foolhardy, but I proceeded to yell "ÄãÔÚ¸ÉÊ²Ã´? ÏëÍµÎÒµÄÇ®?!... ÄÃÁËÊ²Ã´°¡,¸øÎÒ¿´!" while grabbing tightly onto his wrist. He aggressively swung his hand free, and then opened both hands up to show that he had not succeeded in his vile mission. At this point, I think adrenaline had started to run out, and I was at a loss for words. Before I could look for an officer around me to cuff this thief, he turned his back to me and sprinted. I was trembling.

So stunned and paralyzed from what just transpired, I looked to my left and right to see if anyone else had witnessed any of it. People looked busy, and pedestrians, as usual, were strolling back from work with their briefcases and pocketbooks. All except this one beggar woman with snow white hair and walnut-wrinkled tan skin. Her gray-from-old age eyes looked coldly into mine as she pointed to the direction the thief had fled towards and said "Ð¡Íµ,ÊÇ¸öÐ¡Íµ°¡..." She had watched the whole thing from her spot near the subway wall and uttered no sounds during the whole ordeal.

On top of trying to process everything at that point, I didn't know whether I was feeling resentment at her blatant bystanding and lack of warning when the pickpocket inched close to my bag, or whether I was internalizing guilt for representing one of the millions of "apathetic priveleged" in China.

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Wed, 28 Jun 2006 02:34:18 GMT

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Sat, 24 Jun 2006 03:29:20 GMT

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Misu [mon petit canard] died today.

And Korea lost.

My eyes are a little swollen.

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Brazilian at heart

Sun, 18 Jun 2006 17:54:34 GMT

Just got back from the World Cup and a few drinks at Zub in WDK... for some reason, still am not fatigued, though the day started at 9 am for me. It is grotesquely hot in my room. My roomie Hannah sold the AC 2 weeks ago, just when BJ was going to hit its peak June temperatures... summer bummer. I can't sleep....

so, ....2-0 Brazil!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Though my love, #8 Kaka, was a little disappointing tonight, he pulled some great assists and faked with finesse as usual. The two scorers though, did not disappoint, especially after an entire game of vivacity and commendable skill from both teams. Adriano's powerful, through-the-legs, grounder was clever and quick, contrasting with Fred's closing tap in with less than 7 minutes left in the game. Though I really like Australia (especially after the 3-0 win against Japan in the last ten minutes) and hope that they medal this year, I can't help loving a good Brazil win.

Mmmm. Do you think if I put myself to sleep now, I can dream about the game? :)

"Holy Grail" and faith in humanity...restored

Sat, 17 Jun 2006 15:12:07 GMT

So I really haven't been having much luck with holding onto my cell phone while in China. Besides occasional "Uhh, wait a second, where is my cell phone? It's not in my bag," episodes, I have also managed to lose my Motorola cell phone with my old number + friends' numbers while away in Hangzhou.

Last night was almost a Round Two. After a night of exorbitant feasting (½ð¶¥Ðþ), KTV(ÌÇ¹û Tango Club), and drinking (began at ÌÇ¹û, continued in ÈýÀïÍÍ) in three different locations, we finally settled on the rooftop of Bar Blu in ÈýÀïÍÍ to watch World Cup, mix and mingle with other Beida international students who were hosting a "Farewell Party" there. Occasionally, we went down to the second floor (after a few drinks) to dance. I was with Lulu (Beida friend), her two guy friends from Minnesota here on Summer CIEE, and Army friends of her two guy friends that decided to follow us around the whole night, and had asked someone to watch my bag while we danced downstairs.

Of course, when I got back, something was missing from my bag and my friend whom I asked to guard my possessions was also MIA. Upon frantically searching the area and inquiring several security guards, I decided to call my own number... it rang. A guy picked up.

I told him that it was my phone he had picked up and used the most pitiful, pleading tone of voice to convince him to meet me and give it back to me. He said he was at Ç°ÃÅ, or "Front Door" if you directly translate it. Naturally, I thought, OK, front door of Bar Blu. WRONG. It turns out he and his pal were already back home in Ç°ÃÅ, near Ìì°²ÃÅ (Tiananmen Square), which is a 25 minute cab ride from ÈýÀïÍÍ. Lulu and I grabbed Brian and Chen (other Beida friends, who are fairly masculine and could pass off as intimidating upon first impression...actually, maybe this only applies to just Brian- you would need to hear Chen speak before passing judgement), and proceeded to go on our 2am excursion...slightly apprehensive. The guys seemed to believe that a fight was going to occur, since they were convinced the strange cell phone kidnappers were conniving to lure an innocent female owner of the cell phone into their trap. Although originally optimistic and hopeful, I gradually grew more nervous. Lulu, skeptical from the beginning that this was a complicated ruse, did not assuage my unease.

We kept calling them and ended up designating the small church outside Ç°ÃÅ as our meeting place. The four of us took our posts. The guys were circulating the two front sides, while Lulu and I remained centrally stationed. Five minutes later, two young men around 25, both holding cigarettes and wearing wifebeaters with jeans, strolled from a side street. The four of us regrouped and approacched them in guys-in-front, girls-in-back square formation.

I popped out from behind and saw that they did have my phone. I asked them very politely in Chinese if I could have it back. They responded, equally politely, that they were sorry for the misunderstanding and that in actually, they picked it up in a cab. They were glad the cell was returned to its rightful owner.

I was speechless for the next ten seconds, shocked at their level of courtesy and moral character. Quickly, I made the offer of giving them compensational remuneration for coming out so late at night to return the phone. They refused. Brian and Chen asked if they could take them out for a drink (yes, at that hour...). They shook their heads. Finally, I asked if I could have thier numbers, so I could treat them to a dinner sometime in the future. Again, they rejected my offer. And thus, we parted, puzzled and incredulous.

We joked that my cell was like the modern "Holy Grail" (no religious mockery intended). There was consensus in the taxi that nowadays, it is so rare that (young) people would go through such means to perform this act of kindness. More personally, it really strummed a heartstring when Brian and Chen, who I was barely acquaintances with, were adamant on accompanying me last night/this morning insteading of heading home to Beida.

Our finding of the "Holy Grail" was quite enlightening. Rare little incidents like this one are what remind me that the Lockean belief in the goodness of man should be upheld.

Optimism should be smiled upon.

ÓÂÆø£¬I suppose we all need a little of it.

Tue, 06 Jun 2006 05:59:48 GMT

Central leaders are comforted by the knowledge that direct political challenges to their authority by local governments are extremely rare. Li Fan, an independent consultant in Beijing who advises local governments on election-related issues, says there is strong demand among lower-level officials for political reform. But very few rural townships have pushed experiments with freer elections or more open government beyond the party's guidelines. And none has tolerated organised opposition or open attacks on the party leadership. China's local leaders know where to draw the line.

Economist, http://www.economist.com/world/asia/displaystory.cfm?story_id=7011470

I don't really understand why this type of fairly widespread pattern, local resistence and proclivity towards political liberalization and dissent, has continued through almost one entire generation of Chinese citizens-- beginning from our parents' time post-Cultural Revolution until now. What does it take? Now, a lot of returning º£¹ê who once left China to get a more comprehensive education abroad are doing wonders for baseline reform (mostly economic, corporate structural) but what about the politics? If there is something we can learn from Taiwan, it is the 'infiltration' of new ¼û¶àÊ¶¹ãµÄ¡¡government leaders who are more audacious in their policy-setting moves.

Evidently, no impetus from the top is occurring anytime soon. Bottom-up approach is more realistic, albeit difficult in execution. Among qualities the Chinese people lack, and of course, I am cognizant that I am generalizing, is courage -- one sparked by reason and not rashness or haste. ¸ü¶àÈËÓ¦¸Ã¼ûÒåÓÂÎª£¬·Åµ´²»î¿µÄÈ¥×éÖ¯×Ô¼º¡£

It's funny how reflective patterns or incidents in society can be on own's personal life...

"Insight" from the Beer Garden

Fri, 02 Jun 2006 19:39:03 GMT

Interesting observation tonight.

This morning I read an article titled "Why Aren't We [MNCs] Targeting China's Middle Class?" that left me inquisitive as to whether or not that was the direction they were heading in. T'is true. Key to China? The core of China is still is burgeoning (lower to) middle class, right?

But how do these lower-middle class people better their situation?

Anyway, I just got back from a really late night and exhilarating day of "relaxation and fun." I put these in quotes, because these activities were not originally scheduled for today. I have a sea of work awaiting me to drown in...productivity will have to delayed a day. After an intense massage, dinner at Î÷ÃÅ¼¦³á, pilates at the gym, and then karaoking at Ê¨×ÓÍõ Lion King in Wudaokou, a group of expats (3 girls from my elective Chinese class, 1 Parisian-Chinese girl, 2 of their guy friends, and then Anji from my US-East Asia class and her boyfriend) and I relentlessly ended up at the (24-hour!) Beer Garden behind karaoke. Searching for an empty table for ten minutes, we suddenly lost our sense of time. 3 AM apparently was the Beer Garden's peak hour.

So I felt very out of place. All around me were Koreans, Japanese, American (white), Europeans, Hispanics, and some Africans. Never had I felt like more of a minority in China. Continuing with what I started talking about... I thought of that article from this morning and realized that an article from the Chinese perspective should be "Why Isn't the Lower Middle Class of China Targeting the Expat Foreign Community?" Who would have even thought that these street vendors could make such a profit if they switched their target consumer base and image... prole snack food sold at a higher price as long as it is paired with relatively cheap alcohol in a gaudy backyard "garden" patio environment, conveniently open all night to party-loving foreign night owls.

Maybe there is something to be learned here from observing the streets of Beijing.

A lingering thought

Tue, 30 May 2006 18:19:04 GMT

Just got off the phone with my mom. Surprisingly, I was just as much the listener as I was the talker. I suppose we all have thoughts bottled up inside us, waiting for the right people to reveal them to.

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