Totally predictable

Mik will yell, “Typical!” when I post this.

I would update, but I have to pee.  Sorry guys.  More to come when I go to Taipei :D

July 4, 2009

Happy Independence Day, america.  Yesterday, we went to temple and my grandparents hired a new servant.  Both should be discussed.

We are Daoist…but also kind of Buddhist.  I asked my grandmother if she learned what we pray to as a child, and she laughed, “Who learns these things?”  So, I really don’t know who knows, and if I were more adept at reading Chinese, I could probably look up the names of deities written beneathe each figure, but I only know maybe one out of every three characters, if that, so it’s a bit impossible.  In high school, I did a group project about Daoism, but reading about the traditions in English is very different from doing things.  The customs are also so engrained culturally that it can vary from region to region and family to family because it’s how you lead your life, not a separate “religion compartment” that you open up to find an instructional manual.

My paternal grandmother told me to “make wishes,” but I find prayer a complex undertaking.  English?  Mandarin?  Taiwanese?  Does it matter?  Putting my desires and aspirations into words feels false, for these thoughts, not typically verbalized, are ill-fitted to my stilted prose.  So, too, are my aspirations prosaic.  If I ask for one “thing” for each member of my immediate familiy, I feel guilty for neglecting my grandparents’ health.  If I rotate through my relatives, who am I to decide what would most benefit each of their lives?  Then, too, if i am judicious in selecting spiritual boons, shouldn’t I concentrate my summoning powers on starving children and war-torn communities?

The whole experience is smoky, from the incense sticks we light to the god money we burn.  You enter from the right-hand door and exit from the left.  The doorways often have raised thresholds, because the gods can float; they don’t need to step over the panel the way we do.  My family takes a rather agnostic approach; my mother laughs a bit at some of the bizarre attributes we ascribe to our deities, but still teaches us the customs because she respects the institution.

Yesterday also saw the advent of a new servant.  JP once made the odd claim that Mongolia is the Mexico of Asia.  Not true.  I think East Asian nations have a relationship with Southeast Asia similar to the US with Mexico.  My grandmother explained to me that, in the early days, Taiwan hired many Filipino laborers.  The problem was that “they liked to go out on weekends, and they didn’t do work on Sundays because they would go to church.”  The labor force thus shifted to the Vietnamese, and I’m not sure if there was any problem with them.  Lee Papa mentioned that Taiwanese men started marrying Vietnamese women, so perhaps households were loathe to exploit “their own.”  At any rate, most workers now come from Indonesia.

Whether motivated by an intent to prevent exploitation or to protect Taiwanese menial laborers, the government passed laws restricting who could hire workers from Southeast Asia.  Households may only do so if someone is elderly or disabled.  Because my grandmother has been having knee troubles, my grandparents have hired a worker to help out around the house.  Two years ago, they had Anda, who was boisterous and claimed girlfriends all over Taiwan.  she ran away with one of them.  Because of the labor laws, they had to wait 6 months; then, the agent brought Lily.  Lily was very delicate and didn’t last very long.  She suffered from depression and went home.  Anda was my age; Lily, a couple years younger.  Yesterday, the agent brought Dina.

The interview with my uncle and his wife ranged from more understandable questions like, “Are you going to run away?” to odd/preposterous pronouncements from the agent, “She only looks dirty because she’s dark.”  the agent didn’t strike me as particularly genuine, sharing details of Dina’s life about which she was quite mistaken.  She tried to assure my family that this would be a good fit, but it became clear that she didn’t know much about Dina.

The entire system is exploitative, but my grandparents do need the help, and they treat their employees with respect and care.  at the same time, I don’t feel comfortable having Dina do things for me, as I’m neither old nor infirm.  I left all my laundry until today to do, so I was about 3/4 done this morning when Dina took over.  (I’m slow.)  It’s the guilt thing again.

She calls my aunt tai-tai (wife, or the Chinese equivalent of Madame), my grandparents Grandma and Grandpa, and me jie-jie (older sister).  Which is cute, but she’s 27, so she’s older than I am.  On the other hand, everyone in my family calls me jie-jie, because my mom’s younger sister is cute and affectionate, and she started calling me that.  So, I guess it’s not really a subservient thing.

My uncle, aunt, and cousin went to Kaoshiung today.  Before he left, my cousin talked to the fish: “I’m leaving now.  You guys be good!”  So cute!

I don’t think I’ve adequately worked through the power structure thing, but I’ll take a break now to share some pictures.

Here’s what a temple looks like.

TempleI didn’t take pictures inside, but I did take pictures of the god money part.

Burning God MoneyThis was the temple we went to with my maternal grandparents.  My dad’s village is in the mountains, and the temple there is set against this backdrop:

Fu HsinIt’s enough to make you feel spiritual, isn’t it?

Travel Journal: Taiwan 2009

June 28, 2009

2009 is shaping up to be a year of many flights.  1/2 of the flight to Paris, the ones coming back from Paris, to and fro Columbus, and now, Taiwan.  Today’s estimated flight time is 12 hours 28 min; we are supposed to arrive in Taiwan at 9:55PM.  The plan: stay up the entire time, eat everything, drink everything, watch thought-provoking films, world movies, and trashy pleasures.  This should render me physically and mentally exhausted so that I can rest soundly upon arrival.

Now watching: The Watchmen

Followed by Two Lovers

–> bathroom break

~7 hours left

crossword interlude

And now, no video is showing.  might I have broken the feed?  Fail.  Aha.  There is a problem with the system, which they just announced.  At first, I was worried, because in Chinese, they said wo men shu yiao tsong shin chi dong, which i thought meant something was seriously amiss with the plane.  Luckily, the next announcement was in English: We need to reboot.

I’ll jot down some of the highlights of the day, and if the movies don’t start back up when I’m done, I’ll commence with the Oscar Wilde.  (I missed Pride, so it’s the next best thing.)

  • Jon giving me advice
    • Try not to make people hate you
    • You’ll be living with 4 other girls.  Your cycles will sync. So I’ve been told.
    • Watch out for a guy called Louis.  He’s perverted…and smelly…
  • Running into family friends we’ve known since Cleveland who now live in the Bay Area.  Same flight.
  • Man starts talking to us in the waiting area.  Asked how many children Lee Papa and I had.  (Fail.)
  • Man next to me on the plane got moved to better seats (three to himself) so Lee Papa and I get to spread out.  (Win.)
  • The Watchmen-is superhero sex more super?  What’s the back story?
  • Two Lovers-Why settle?  Didn’t Joaquin Phoenix go wonky?

Thoughts on the trip…

  • Not yet packed for Ohio.  Fail.
  • Lee Mama is neurotic.  Clearly, I’m her daughter…

Alright, time for some Wildeing…

July 1, 2009

I read “The Importance of Being Earnest,” (or should plays be underlined?) but then my eyes got really dry, so I thought I’d better take a nap.  I never did get any more movies to play.

-> baggage claim took forever!
-> American lady asked how to call home; she had lived in Taiwan 15 years ago
-> My name is listed wrong in the Taiwanese computers

We finally got back around 11PM and went to sleep.  The room i got seems cleaner than it was last year.  Hm.  I woke up around 8:30 and spent the day watching TV, with interludees helping out with the store and selling peaches.

-> something to look up: movie in French, took place in Japan.  Frenchman and his Japanese daughter.  Male lead looked familiar.

[I did look this up.  It's a movie called Wasabi.]

I wonder if I should read A Picture of Dorian Grey today.  It seems pretty creepy…

Now writing on THSR.  I ended up reading a book on mythology entitled…wait for it…Mythology.  Its author, Edith Hamilton, was apparently a renowned classicist.  This is yet to be confirmed by my classicist friends.

Between yesterday and today, I must have become much tastier, as I now have a multitude of bites and am oddly swollen.  Gross.  (Hand, finger, arms, possibly panty-line, face, feet, ankles…ô, my poor delicate ankles…)

Wow, HSR is freaking fast.  Well, duh, that’s the point.  It’ll take only half an hour to travel from Taoyuan to Taichung.  i feel pretty out of sorts.  First off, I ate too much for breakfast.  In the past, when I felt full, I could soldier on for another 10 minutes.  Now, if I fell full, I fell like throwing up.  Then, i twas hot.  Then, there were all the mosquito bites.  Then, there was the car ride down the mountain.  My intestinal fortitude is lacking these days, so the twists and turns began getting to me, at which point I took a nap.  Now, my eyes are dry, I’m swollen and itchy, and…I cannot go to school today, said little Peggy Ann McKay…

Let’s talk a bit about Asian guilt.  From a young age, I was taught that the home of my father’s childhood is my home.  These are my people, but they don’t know me.  Fewer and fewer in the village recognize my dad each time we go (it’s still a small town, though; many still know him); there is nothing in my visage to mark me as his or my grandmother’s.  Filial loyalty instills love and respect, but going to the mountains makes me uncomfortable.  Then, I am guilty, for I am uncomfortable.

Also up for disucssion- temple.  I’m never quite sure who hears my prayers, and my dad doesn’t really know, either.  I don’t know if he’s paid much attention to these things.  I should ask Lee Mama.

So, that’s all transcribed from my travel journal.  I’m now in central Taiwan with my mom’s family.  Perhaps there will be more later, but now, it’s time to eat :D

Bullet Points

I kind of fail at being articulate right now, so I’ll just update in bullet points.  Much more accesible that way.

  • I just started a Share Site on Shutterfly: http://cindysthousandwords.shutterfly.com
  • In May, I graduated.  Twice!
  • I decided to go to Ohio State…excuse me, The Ohio State University…in the fall for a graduate program in Molecular, Cellular, & Developmental Biology.

Ohio here I come!

There are quite a few things on the to-do list, including the continuance of the travel journal entries (which exist…just not in electronic form!), Steve Chu stories, and of course, my paper on rum.  The last one probably doesn’t belong on this blog.  Unfortunately, I’ll be holding off on these goodies a little bit longer because this weekend, I’m visiting The Ohio State University and Miami University.

I’ll keep you posted.

One-liner

Pasta will do you in. Absinthe is your friend.

~Mikaela, 2009

Pandas

I interrupt the travel updating with a random quote from Lee Mama.  Background information: several months ago, Taiwan got some pandas, so now everyone is extra in love with pandas.  In fact, they’re calling them PAN-da, as opposed to “cat bear,” which is what they’re traditionally called.  PAN = fat.  Hehe.

Anyway, my mother isn’t quite so enamored of pandas.  We weren’t really sure why, until…

Me: Mom, why don’t you like pandas?
Lee Mama: Why would I?
Me: Cause they’re cute!  Everyone loves pandas!
Lee Mama: I know.  It’s annoying.  Everyone thinks they’re so cute.  I think they’re just average.

Should be writing

As always, I turn to blogging when I should be working.  Don’t worry; it’s all to your benefit.  I bring you…more travel tales!  Youki, I’ll do you one better and include pictures when I post to FIT.  I promise.  Onto Day 3:

We had originally planned to go to Rouen on January 3, but rearranged our itinerary and decided to go to the Picasso Museum instead.  (Oh yes, there was quite a bit of itinerary-changing!)  Not so much French this time around.  I think I was too tired/cold when I was writing!

samedi 3 janvier 2009

Tiff needed a hat, so we started at the mall next door.  Auchan opens at 8h30, but the shops don’t open until 10.  Uhh…H&M finally rolled up the gate at 10h07.  Good job, guys.  Off we went…

We wandered around for awhile, searching for the museum.  Because we got off at Châtelet, we passed by Pompidou, so we went in.  There was a HUGE line in the back…for the bathroom.  (That was originally mis-written, and then crossed out.  That’s how tired I was when I wrote this.  I meant the library!)  Right.  We didn’t have museum passes yet, so we browsed a bit and headed out.  Actually, that’s not completely true.  We had just gotten the passes, an adventure in and of itself.  I knew we could go somewhere in Les Halles, possibly at a store?  The information guy [by the way, my handwriting got very sloppy here; I was definitely nodding off as I wrote!] said no, no passes here, but gave us a couple maps.  (Which I used for the rest of the trip, by the way.  Very handy…and slightly ragged by the end!)  I asked at a telephone store.  “Maybe FNCP???”  Turns out, I was close.  FNAC.  It’s a Virgin-like store.

We walked through the free part of Pompidou, then checked out a blindfolded painter in the courtyard.  Across from this glass monstrosity is an ancient cathedral/cloister; the juxtaposition seems so Paris.

Pompidou

Che

Cloitre

I spotted a crêperie en route to the Musée (ok, that’s not hard to do), so I picked up a Nutella one and finished its gooey awesome-ness just as we arrived.  Both the museum and the artwork were pretty cool; in fact, there was a temporary exhibit going on, and when we asked about it at the end, we found out we had been walking through it the whole time.  A contemporary artist had erected huge mirrors and replaced some of the windows with colored panes.  (Other observations previously noted.)

***

[I interrupt myself to note that no, I have not noted my other observations here for the blog.  So, I will delineate my scribbles and perhaps find supporting Internet evidence for some of my favorite pieces...]

  • pic of Diego Giacometti in Musée Picasso
  • Picasso and ace of clubs-why?
  • <<Le Baiser>> 12 janvier 1931
  • <<La Suplicante>> 18 décembre 1937-wardrobe malfunction, missing shoe
  • retrato = portrait (Sp.)
  • I like <<Retrato de Dora Maar>>

Musee Picasso

***

We then met up with Joyce’s friend David underneath a statue of Danton at a Mètro station.  I think we saw a movie about Danton starring Gérard Depardieu in Barnett’s class.  David took us around the Latin Quarter.  We stopped in at a café whose doors, like many French doors, do not swing shut.  You must push them shut.  Later, Tiff and I had Cuban food.  I think I’m bad at picking cocktails–they’re always too sweet.

Latin Quarter

Day Two

As Tiffany mentioned, we stayed at her mom’s friend’s ex-husband’s place right outside of Paris.  So, for future reference, Shu Shu = uncle and Ah Yi = auntie.  For about the first week, I have actual travel journal stories, so I’m just typing out what I wrote in the lovely journal Michelle gave me for Christmas :)

vendredi 2 janvier 2009

Aujourd’hui, nous nous reveillons à 9h45.  Pour le petit-déjeuner, nos hôtes nous offrent du pain, de la confiture des fraises, et 雞肉醬.  [Today, we awoke at 9:45.  For breakfast, our hosts offered us bread, strawberry jam, and "chicken paste."]  The jar wouldn’t open, though, and when I looked at it, I noticed it was <<de grenouilles.>>  That’s not 雞.  That’s 田雞!  (雞=chicken.  田雞=farm chicken=frog!)

Plus important, il neigeait!  [More important, it snowed!]  As we finished eating, the snow stopped falling, and the sun came out.  Before we left, we saw the snow start to melt.

Neige

Nous partons pour le gare.  Aujourd’hui, c’était un voyage plus facile que lequel d’hier, car nous n’avons pas eu nos bagages aujourd’hui.  Nous avons pris le RER C à Champs de Mars pour rendre visite à la  Tour Eiffel.  À midi, la tour était fermée car il faisait trop froid et, comme un officiel nous dit: <<It’s too icy.>>  Tout de même, il y avait un queue long ne bougeant pas.  [We leave for the station.  Today, it was an easier trip than yesterday's, because we didn't have our luggage today.  We took the RER C to Champs de Mars to visit the Eiffel Tower.  At noon, the tower was closed because it was too cold, and, like an official told us, "It's too icy."  All the same, there was a long line, not moving at all.]

Ainsi, nous nous sommes promenées au parc.  Une femme avec hijab nous a approché: <<Do you speak English?>>  Elle voulait de l’argent.  Nous avons pris de photos, de la tour et au mur de paix.  Nous avons marché plus, en passant l’École Militaire, un chocolatier, une libraire, des autres magasins, et beaucoup de cafés.  [And so, we walked around the park.  A woman in hijab approached us: "Do you speak English?"  She wanted money.  We took pictures--of the tower and of the Wall of Peace.  We walked some more, passing the Military School, a chocolatier, a bookstore, more shops, and many cafés.]

Paix

Les immeubles de la rue sont dans un style classique, avec des portes merveilleux.  J’aime bien ces portes.  [The apartment buildings in the street were in a classical style, with marvelous doors.  I really like those doors.]

Immeuble

En retournant à la tour, nous l’avons découverte ouverte, avec des queues tellement longs!  [On returning to the tower, we found it open, with so very long lines!]  There was a pair of girls in front of us around our age from some sort of place with white people that did not speak English, Spanish, or Italian.  They didn’t talk enough for me to figure out what language they were using.  In front of them was an American family; behind us were 3 Midwestern college students, possibly?  (Definitely American, maybe Midwestern.  Sidebar: while in the park, there were 2 little British girls “cantering” around yelling, “Giddy-up!”  Also, many cute little doggies.  Adorable.)

To climb the tower, it costs 3,10 € and many steps.  With the wind blowing, it was quite easy to become short of breath, although the stairs were pretty manageable in height-length ratio.

Gorgeous views of course.  Upon descent, we headed south and walked along Avenue de Suffren, which was mostly residential.  In search of lunch and the métro, we turned onto Motte-Picquet.

Pain au chocolat. Win.  Public telephone.  Lose.  We peered into the booth (3 stuck together in a triangle) and spied no coinslots; only a card slot.  I tried inserting my ATM card, to no avail.

We had to ask the lady at a desk of a hotel for help twice.  The calling card didn’t work.  The guys at a phone shop told us to buy a carte téléphonique at le tabac, which we hadn’t been able to find, but it was INSIDE the café!

Finally, we could call David, but he was on his way to his uncle’s for tea, so we decided to just stick around the area and browse.

Monoprix- amazing!  First floor: clothing, household items, boulanger, pâtisserie.  2nd: grocery store.  Coke is made with sugar, not high fructose corn syrup.

McDonald’s- really popular!?  Many kinds of coffee, breakfast sandwich: bacon & egg sandwich.

We meandered down the street (Commerce), which had many cute shops, at least three Asian buffets, and lights arching over the street.  There was a church at the end.

Eglise

Asian Buffet

We headed back to the métro stop and got home just in time for dinner at 7h30.

*Random observation of the day: Placard on side of l’École Militaire in memory of 743 Jews sent to Auschwitz was rather non-descript.

***

Alright, now for some meta-commentary.  Here are some “dumb American” things on my part: the lady in a hijab?  All the ladies in hijab that I thought were Muslim?  Were probably gypsies.  I never did end up trying the frog paste, even after it was opened (but Tiffany did, so maybe she’ll tell you about it), but I did have snails, ok?

Oh, and David is Joyce’s friend from Princeton who is parisien and was nice enough to show us around (later in the trip).

I’ll post pictures of things at some point.  They have been uploaded to the Internet, but I’m not sure if I want to insert them in blog posts or not.  Anyway, Ashley had greatly recommended Monoprix to me, so I was super excited to check it out (continuously throughout the trip), and since it was across from McDonald’s, we looked at its menu, too.  Also, I believe buffet in the French sense is like “smorgasbord,” or “spread,” rather than “all-you-can-eat.”

I’m visiting Davis this weekend, though, and Allie is lying in bed yelling at me/talking to Sichen, so I should excuse myself.  À bientôt!

Diversity

I know, I know.  I’m a bad blogger.  I haven’t updated in awhile; nor have I shared my winter break stories.  First, though, I have to show you this ridiculous survey I’m answering.  The career center at school sent out an email asking us to participate, but I don’t think they’re the ones who wrote it; it is probably some sort of company that does recruitment.  So, here’s a question I was asked (screenshot):

diversityWhy yes, I do have an age.  Is it a diverse age?  HOW CAN ANY AGE BE DIVERSE!?  If a workplace has a wide range of workers, then there exists a diverse age range in that workplace.  So, these are the ones that I find problematic (in that everyone has one; it’s just a matter of whether your personal ___ is different from everyone else’s ___):

  • age
  • education
  • ethnicity
  • gender
  • life experience
  • nationality
  • personality (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA)
  • sexual orientation (GLBT?  Who calls it GLBT?  I’ve always seen it LGBT; I guess that’s just an example of the diversity of my experience in this matter.  Moreover, since when is heterosexual–but hopefully not overly heteronormative–not a sexual orientation?)
  • socioeconomic background
  • work function
  • work style

I have a love/hate relationship with, “What makes you MORE DIVERSE THAN EVERYONE ELSE?” type questions.  Because, really?  More diverse?  Diversity comes from a collective.  I am only diverse if I have a variety of things within myself *that’s what she said*.  It reminds me of the “diversity workshop” portion of RA training when I worked for CTD.  We spent a couple hours listening to someone teach us about diversity.  What did we learn?  That the presenter was from Brazil, but she was Italian. In addition, “Hispanic is offensive, because not everyone speaks Spanish.  Latino or Latina is preferred.”  Really productive, wouldn’t you say?  The whole experience was offensive!  I ought to have stood up and had a diversity competition with her.  “You’re of Italian descent?  Well, I’m of Taiwanese descent.  You’re from Brazil?  Well, I’m from Cleveland.  You live in Chicago?  Well, I live in the Bay Area.”  Does it make me more diverse that I grew up in an area where most people didn’t share my skin color?  Does it make me more diverse that I now live in an area where there are a lot of people with different skin colors?  Maybe; maybe not.  It’s more how those (and other) experiences have shaped me.  I’ve led diversity workshops, and let me tell you, they can be a lot more effective than the drivel to which Northwestern employees are apparently subjected.  (Sorry for the convoluted prepositions.)

Speaking of Northwestern, let me show you my “diversity statement” for their application.

***

I am gratified to be asked about diversity because exposure to and interaction with a wide variety of people and ideas have so strongly shaped the person that I am today. There are, of course, the checkboxes I fill in on demographics forms. My parents are immigrants, and I grew up in a Midwestern town that did not abound in Asian faces. We later moved to a San Francisco Bay Area suburb whose ethnic and religious composition differed greatly from my hometown. It’s a little fun to defy expectations; Californians marvel at “the Taiwanese girl from Ohio,” and my Midwestern friends are often shocked by the number of Mormons now in my social circle. Neither my ethnicity nor their religion will be the first characteristics listed for our respective regions, but the reality of modern America is that this isn’t completely preposterous.

Tonight, I joined my friend’s family for a Hanukkah dinner. I haven’t been able to share in this tradition since leaving Cleveland, so it was delightful (and delicious) to partake of the latkes. Less ephemeral than the latkes, however, were our cultural revelations. We discussed how, when a friend is from a different background, it can be hard to parse whether our habits are due to personality quirks or cultural influences. I realized that my personal culture is shaped by all the people I’ve met, not just based on my parents’ nation of origin or my predilection for Black Forest Cake. My cognition is enhanced by my experiences, which will in turn contribute to the diversity at Northwestern.

My undergraduate experience has been at a public university, and we pride ourselves on tolerance and bringing together a wide range of backgrounds, but we still lag in representing California’s statewide population. I’ve met people who have not had as straightforward a path in science as I have had. I’ve been able to develop a passion for research because people encouraged me and my high school had the resources for advanced lab activities. Others were shoveled through under-funded programs or shied away from research because of media portrayals. People have every right to mistrust biotechnology, but it should not be due to inaccessibility or bizarre depictions of Frankenfood.

I bring a linguist’s perspective to solving problems; I bring a culturally-aware background to a diverse working environment; I bring passion for scientific research and equity in education. These are all qualities that I’ll encounter at Northwestern, so it is vital that I be able to learn and grow from the diversity that the campus has fostered.

***

So, here are my questions for you.  Which checkboxes from above would you mark?  (You can pick the problematic ones if you want; but explain!)  Which criteria do you think are important for a diverse workplace, academic setting, or life?

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