Friday, August 29, 2008

西雅图 // SEATTLE

A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image. - Joan Didion
Mexican food, Radiohead, mountains, prosthetic limbs, wedding, party, Puget Sound, party, romance, Mexican food, chickenbag, rain kebabs, thrift shopping, ferries, tea! rain, rain, sun, rain, love, Mexican food.

***
On my last morning at Ninja HQ Montana cooked up blueberry pancakes, I made Cameronian tea, and John brought out his guitar so I could hear Johntana's cover of the song "Waikiki". I hate leaving this town and these people, my town and my people.

***This machine at Broadway & John has offered "mystery" sodas (at right) at below-market prices for more than a decade. Our most recent visit yielded a slightly spooky cherry coke.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

奥林匹克运动会终于来了!

If any of you are relying on this sadly neglected blog in order to meet all of your media needs, you may be forgiven for being unaware that the 29th Modern Olympic Games are currently underway here in Beijing. One of world history's most impressive build-ups has finally broken and all the dozens of Olympics clocks scattered around Beijing that have been counting down for the past several years are now stuck at 0000 days 00 hours and 00 minutes (you can see one above near the Olympic green and the recently completed "Olympic flame" skyscraper). Some of them are being replaced by countdown clocks for next month's Paralympic games, starring the saddest mascot ever:

I haven't been able to take part in as many of the Olympic good times as some people (on account of being embarrassingly busy), but I've been very lucky to attend a few events. On Friday I joined Mark and a bunch of old classmates to watch the opening ceremony on the big screen at one of the designated viewing areas in Ditan Park. An impressive statement. I'll say nothing more, except for qi lai! qi lai!

The next afternoon Mark and I headed to the Olympic Green for his favorite sport, handball. Here are some pictures:

I trusted Mark's recommendation and was pleased to find that Handball is indeed a very entertaining sport. The first match we watched was between Romania and Kazakhstan and was dominated by the Romanians, despite cries of support which may have gone unnoticed by Kazakh athletes unable to recognize their names in Mark's screams of "PIKALUNA! C'MON" and "GO NEAGU!" Our section, at the very least, was much entertained, not to mention enriched by having perhaps the single attendee who understood the rules of the sport. After the first game we snuck into better seats, but I kind of missed our rowdy British neighbors who managed to teach several hundred Chinese how to do "the wave".

The second match up was between South Korea and Russia. Below you can see the Korean coach advising his team on strategy during a time-out. He used a little board with magnetic pieces that proved very effective in bringing his team from an 8 point deficit to a 29-29 tie with Russia. The Russian coach spent the entire game turning beet red at every goal made against his team, berating all of his players, and constantly taking them in and out of play.

During this game I learned that those inflatable tubes that people wave at games make a horrible tinny noise when banged together and also that the Olympics is the very best place in the world for both making outlandish jokes about geopolitics and history and for extrapolating vast cultural generalizations from the strategies and attitudes of national sporting teams.

And then there were the Fuwa, whose halftime show with the la la dui (cheerleaders) was totally worth the price of admission.

Here they are waiting to enter the arena before the end of the 1st half.

In action:
Yeah, its pretty clear that I play favorites, but you should all know by now that I can never resist a panda. Besides, the human inside of the Jingjing costume was hyperactive and really fun to watch. He seemed to take pleasure in mocking the cheerleaders and in messing with the short fuwa who didn't have much use of their legs or arms (as below). He ruled.

Here's a video (jingjing is freaking out to the right for the first few seconds and on the left for the last few seconds -- also notice the tiny blue beibei flapping his flippers in apparent delirium):

Fuwa & cheerleaders Olympic halftime show from Le Kougre on Vimeo.
There was no fuwa halftime show at the swimming event I attended on Sunday, but it was my first opportunity to get an up close look at two of Beijing's most famous pieces of Olympic architecture, the National Stadium (or bird's nest), with its newly lit Olympic flame:

and the National Aquatics Center (or water cube):

where I met a very special friend:

who totally tried to cop a feel (jk China! you know I LOVE the fuwa!)

The water cube is really quite a bit better looking than it appears in the Beijing haze, and the interior is all cool and spacey.

Although we couldn't see it from our seats, I'm betting the athletes were loving the ceiling of the main competition hall.

What we could see from our seats was limited. I spent a lot of time gazing dumbly at the national flags hung around the perimeter and wondering how I missed flag week in elementary school.

We could see the pool fine but there wasn't really much to see aside from blurs in the water. It was hard to keep track of the numbers of the lanes and the athletes that were swimming in them.

I spent some lot of time watching the big screens which had lots of close-ups and many of those amazing underwater shots you see on TV. What being there had over watching at home was all the excitement of seeing world records get broken (twice!), cheering for Michael Phelps, and watching all the little pockets of national supporters spring into action. Maybe your house is different from mine, but I rarely have a cluster of South Africans to my right, Canadians in front, and Japanese across the way all with flags a flurry.

By the time the races were all over it was dark and the rain had started up again in force. People wearing free plastic bag raincoats that glowed purplish from the lighting inside the cube waited outside for the shuttle bus to take them to the subway.

Some kids played in the fountains in front of the glowing red bird's nest.

I walked to the bus stop in my poncho thinking about all that has been said, done, built, and promised in the name of the Beijing Olympics and about what a vast disconnect exists between that and the reality of the games, with all the empty seats, confusing rules, excitement and hope, and pleasant conversations with international neighbors.

Then I went home and ate Totoro.

He was tasty, though the eyes were a little tough.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

COUGAR DOMINATION PRODUCT REVIEWS featuring guest reviewer Mark Siano

Lay's Natural & Cool Potato Chips, Blueberry flavour:

Mark: (opens package, places two in mouth) .........They taste like really salty blueberry muffins.

Erika: (cautiously selects one) eugh! They taste like -- exactly like you're eating a salt lick while someone nearby is baking blueberry muffins.

Mark: (eats another, screws up face in salty discomfort) These are terrible. Hey, are you baking blueberry muffins?

Erika: I guess we won't be trying the mango flavour.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Ladies Rice Crust, Wasabi flavour:

Erika: Maaaaaarrrk! Did you eat all the Ladies Rice Crust? I wanted to try those!

Mark: Sorry.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

PRE-OLYMPICS CLEAN AIR REGULATIONS MEET WITH LIMITED SUCCESS

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Last Sunday, strict new clean air regulations went into effect in the capital, requiring that all construction within the city temporarily cease and that heavily polluting factories on the outskirts of the city temporarily close their doors. Approximately half of the city's private cars have also been taken off the roads through a system which allows odd and even numbered license plate holders to drive on alternating days.

Unfortunately traffic still isn't great and the air, while certainly better, is still not so very good. I took this picture from my bedroom window one morning last week. This smoky grayness with blunted sun is how it looks like this most of the time, making the rare blue sky days almost unsettling. I'd already been living in this new place about a week and a half when I realized for the first time that my bedroom faced east. I had woken with an uncomfortable start and immediately felt disoriented and overheated. Had I overslept? Something seemed wrong. What had in fact happened is that one of the government sponsored rainstorms had rinsed all the pollution away the night before and in the morning the sun was able to shine directly into my room and sear my tightly closed eyelids. Naughty sun.

I'm still rooting for the clean air regulations to have their desired effects and they might yet. Beijing has undergone massive transformations over the last 11 months (and certainly since well before I arrived) and while the changes approach exhausting they are undoubtedly impressive. More than two weeks before the opening ceremony of the Olympics, blue-shirted volunteers appeared in every subway station, on every large street corner, and in all sorts of places in between. Security has also been amped up to the highest degree. I discovered this on Tuesday when I found that I couldn't go to the post office on the BLCU campus because all universities are now sealed off and open only to ID-carrying students and employees. This is most likely happening in lots of other places but I don't get out much so I haven't noticed. So much for giving Mark a tour of my school.

Speaking of which, United States municipal and federal regulations explicitly state that Mark Siano and I are not to reside in the same city for a duration of any more than a week. I think most of us know what kind of calamities violations inevitably result in. But apparently China doesn't know. Mark got himself a plane ticket and will be arriving from the south on Monday afternoon. Beijing had best get ready to be rocked, softly.

ARTIN' IT UP AT 798

(kougar + coveted limited-edition dinosaur sculpture + microsoft photo editor's "watercolor" effect)

Last weekend we took a little in-city school field trip. The destination was 798, the former site of a massive munitions plant which is now the city's most famous art district. One of my favorite memories of Taipei is of a day when Fiona and I visited a modern art museum and tried, with our mutually limited language skills, to talk about art and ideas that aimed to transcend language. I hoped to have a similarly enriching experience this time around and was excited for the opportunity for some off-duty time with some of my favorite teachers.

Zhao laoshi at the Ullens Center:

Song laoshi at the 798 Photo Gallery:

798 has been growing at breakneck speed in pace with the Chinese art market -- even I noticed big changes since the first time I visited last November. Rents have gone up, cafes have gone upscale and there are undoubtedly grounds for all the criticisms I've heard of the place. Still, I think its pretty great. I've always had a twisted affection for the factory aesthetic (I blame Mister Rodgers) and consider the juxtaposition of smokestacks and airplane hangars with giant red dinosaur sculptures and other fruity modern art to be one of the great weird surprises of reform-era Beijing. It also happened to be an awfully nice day.

The re-purposing of the former production and storage facilities at 798 makes for some great spaces to show art. Most galleries are large and bright, with concrete floors, brick walls, and old pipes and exposed building components. The team of East German designers and engineers behind the plant built some of China's only true Bauhaus-style architecture, making its current incarnation all the more appropriate, and also making the grumblers all the more irritable about the Disney-fication of the place, seen in such things as cafe doors filled with coffee beans,

(but check out the sweet rooftop terrace!)

and kooky, cutesy bathroom signs:

Geez people, don't you know art is SERIOUS?

I think these people understood.

We were all waiting in rapt silence for the sudden lurching movement of a large trash bin, which rolled across the space at intervals to crash into the structure at left.

Inside the structure, lifelike renderings of old men were lurching and jerking and crashing into each other's wheelchairs.

The piece, by Sun Yuan and Peng Yu, was part of an installation at Galleria Continua called Unmoved. It made me giggle. It also made me think back to the moment many years ago when I decided that I would not be intimidated or bamboozled by contemporary art. I was visiting Carly in Portland and we went to the museum one day and encountered a piece which involved animal costumes, a low stage, and some cheesy club music. The viewer was instructed to don the animal costumes and then ascend to the stage to dance. Done and done. I remember the artist's statement and could appreciate its reason, but I remember the experience itself far more intensely. I liked that it was playful and accessible and weird and that it stimulated thought and conversation. This piece with the trash bin and the old men in wheelchairs did the same, even if I found it extremely difficult to try to express what I thought it said in Chinese.

I saw several fine pieces on our field trip, bought some good books, and had ample opportunities to use my electronic dictionary to look up things like "conceptual" and "shock value". Much of the best work was at 798's only museum, the Ullens Center for Contemporary Art. There I saw Wang Luyuan's "W Bike", a bicycle that looks like any other except for the fact that it can only ride backwards, Lin Yilin's "Our Future", a large wall being breached by a ferocious dragon, Feng Mengbo's "Game Over: Long March", a depiction of the CCP's glorious Long March across China as a video game, and Lu Hao's "Peng Peng Cars" (bumper cars), in which small remote controlled cars carried either shiny new skyscrapers or small structures representing historic Beijing.

So I suppose that the moral of the story is that if you want your art to be successful in the Chinese market it should involve crashing, breaking, bumping, or other dangerous circumstances. Also, dinosaurs are very hot.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

MY SOCIALIST ELECTRONIC DICTIONARY

One of the first orders of business after settling down here last September was to buy a fancy electronic dictionary. As I may have mentioned before, one of the more irritating qualities of Chinese characters is that their appearance often gives no clue to their pronunciation. If you don't recognize a character or its component parts, you have no recourse but the awkward and difficult process of looking it up by the number of strokes necessary to write it. There are many ways in which this makes life harder for the student of Chinese and there are also several practical ramifications. One is that if you go into a Chinese restaurant that does not have pictures on the menu than you are pretty much screwed. You don't know what's available and you don't even now how to begin looking up anything you don't understand. Basically you are reduced to pointing, asking about foods based on their color and the absence or presence of meat, and ordering spicy tofu, again.

My uselessness in restaurants was a large part of why I wanted to buy an electronic dictionary - one of the ones with a fancy touch screen and stylus so I could just copy any character I didn't recognize and be told what it was and how to say it.

After an exhausting day of haggling at the Zhongguancun electronics bazaar, Jessica and I brought home these little babies, made by a Chinese electronics company and said to be endorsed by Arnold Schwarzenegger. They didn't come cheap. Although you can get a consultation with a dentist and an x-ray of a chipped tooth on a Saturday morning for about seven US dollars here (long story), you can't buy electronics goods for any less than they would be in the States. Of course this wasn't just any electronic dictionary. In fact, we were unable to find anything that was just a dictionary -- everything had mp3 players or games or movies or a combination. The dictionaries we bought not only had great resources for students of either English or Chinese, but also had a million other little bells and whistles. When we brought our new gadgets home I devoted myself to getting to know all the many new electronic diversions it had brought into my life. This is how I came to watch the trailer for Ice Age 2, how I discovered that I could use the translator function to get the machine to swear aloud in a Chinese or English robot voice, and how I found the games.

The first game I got hooked on was a matching game involving pairs of tiny animals and a time limit. I played it until the fun of procrastination wore off and the anxiety of homework began and then I played it some more. Then, one day, it wouldn't allow me to play anymore. The menu screen displayed a negative dollar amount and I concluded that one had to go online to buy more credit. They got you hooked and then they gave you the bill. Harumph. I told Jessica of my discovery and she swore off the matching game, saving the precious few she had left for some rainy day. I didn't try to translate the message more clearly or look at the website, because really, I had better things to do.

A few months passed. One day, probably while studying for a midterm, I absentmindedly visited the game menu. To my delight, I had credit again. I ran to Jessica with the joyous news and promptly began another slacking spree. This time around I tried a new game. A fighter plane game. This, as you can imagine, was far more fun than matching chickens and ladybugs. It had cool graphics, different characters and planes to choose from, and lots of shooting and explosions. Before long I was out of credit again, and this time, I wanted more. Jessica and I weren't sure what had changed. Was it because I had switched the battery? was giving me another hit just another away to get me hooked? or did it just take time to recharge? At around this same time Jessica started messing around with the electronic pet game on the device, soon discovering that her puppy was rather more demanding than the average e-pet. The dog was forever getting sick and in order to buy his medicine, Jessica had to answer grammar questions in a "Learning English" game. Forgetting to check on him for a few days, she came back once to discover that he was dead. Dead? What kind of sick machine kills puppies to punish you for not studying your English grammar?

Duh.
Suddenly it hit me (and by this time I had already had the damn thing for about 7 months). This wasn't just any electronic dictionary, it was a socialist electronic dictionary, a machine that knows better than you how to best apply your labor power and spend your time. Though produced and traded through open channels of supply and demand, this was no capitalist device. This was not the unrestrained, free expression of individual needs and wants. This was not the invisible hand, but the bold, sinewy, often dictatorial hand, which strangled e-pets and dispersed game credit on a formula based on dictionary usage.

The first thing I felt was outrage. How dare they deny me my fighter game? I'm an adult dammit! and I have a right to play my fighter game regardless of how many words I look up in a day.
After that passed, I had to recognize that there was some validity to the system. Having played minesweeper well beyond the point where my eyeballs lost all natural moisture, I could see that it might not be a bad thing to impose some limits on electronic game play.
Shortly after I began to wonder if I could score game credit by looking up dirty words. I could. I haven't quite figured out how many times you have to look up "scrotum" in order to earn one fighter plane game, but I'll let you know.

One of my teachers last semester was always recommending that I give my once per module speech before the whole school on market socialism in Europe. The first time the topic had come up my teacher was thrown by my insistence that there were aspects of socialism in every ostensibly capitalist country, and that the two systems could in fact co-exist quite harmoniously with an educated populace and a (relatively) enlightened bureaucracy. This wasn't because she didn't know about the positively luxurious parental leave legislation in Northern Europe or universal health care in Canada (she did) but because she hadn't connected those things to ideas about how the relationships between economies and societies and between states and individuals. I think it was also because Chinese citizens aren't exactly encouraged to critically reflect on political ideology. If China is a socialist country, than what China does is socialism, and what other countries do is necessarily not.

Thus, my teacher listened with interest as I described high levels of taxation, publicly funded university educations, and bars required to close early so that working folk were forced to get a good night's sleep. In England, I heard plenty of grumblings about the interference of the government in people's lives, but damned if even the most libertine of my MSc cohort didn't make it into lectures on time every morning after having their evenings end by imperial decree (or so I liked to imagine) at the reasonable hour of 11pm. I know the British "nanny state" has seen some reform in the past few years and the pub laws may have finally been changed (and of course even back in the day you could always seek out a nightclub if you really wanted to stay out late), but I know that my thinking about states and citizens was forever changed by living in a country that gave me free health care and told me when it was bedtime. Like my dictionary, all those lords and commoners in their houses knew what was best for me better than I knew myself. I found that strangely comforting, but then I only lived there for a year.

If thought through to its logical basis, the socialist perspective doesn't paint a very favorable portrait of humankind. A socialist citizen cannot be trusted to make the right choices or to rely on themselves but requires the guidance and assistance of the state. I much prefer the Republican/Libertarian imagining of the heroic individual who can achieve great glories if unfettered by bureaucracy or the disincentives of taxation. Unfortunately, I don't believe it for a second. Perhaps this is because I've known lots of otherwise wonderful people who've made poor long-term decisions on a daily basis, and rather non-judicious decisions on an occasional basis (ahem, MARK). I myself have some pretty hardcore steadfast principles about many things, but I went without health insurance for years, sincerely believing that I couldn't afford it, while all along I was saving up money to travel the world. We all have to live with assholes like me and my friends, not to mention the morons who go on fertility drugs and then are so surprised! when they have quintuplets.

The fact is, unless we are the unabomber (and even if we are) we live in a society, and I've never understood why people, regardless of their political affiliation, can't seem to understand or accept that other people's decisions affect our lives. It would be great if we lived in a utopia where everyone took care of themselves, but I don't see that happening any time soon. Call me crazy, but I'm willing to spend my tax monies on universal health care and maybe even have a few of my freedoms to carry heavy artillery and drive Hummers curbed so that I might live in a safer, healthier place (with bike lanes please!). But often it isn't even as extreme as that. Sometimes acknowledging that you live in a society just means putting measures in place that guide people into making decisions that won't negatively impact others. Thinking back again to my days in London, I recall a magical evening (immortalized in the minds of those present at the time as "The Rising of the Urinals"), when I coerced some friends into locating one of the public urinals which was said to rise from the ground around sunset. These urinals ("yur-eye-nulls" in British English) had been installed on a few popular bar streets whose residents had likely complained about the smell in the streets the morning after a big soccer match. Socialism came to the rescue once again, using government funds to construct high-tech urine catchment devices so that soccer hoodlums could continue to live in peace with all those silly people who insist that urban environments shouldn't smell like piss.

I have not forgotten British former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher's famous statement:
"there is no such thing as society. There are individual men and women, and there are families. And no government can do anything except through people, and people must look to themselves first" (1987).
but I don't think that it is necessarily incompatible with my argument. What I'm talking about here, perhaps somewhat nonsensically, is socialism as it pertains to and is expressed in society. Socialist economic systems aren't based on the assumption that people are incompetent and irresponsible, but quite the contrary: people are saints who will selflessly labor for the good of society, but the market must be faulted for not being able to equitably distribute what is torn from the earth and transformed by human labor. (Sidenote: Can you tell I've spent more than 3 years in graduate school?).

Though it blew my teacher's mind to hear it, much of Europe tempers the excesses of capitalism with the softness of socialism, and even better, they use the revenues generated by rapacious free trade to pay for it all. Swedish export-oriented companies like IKEA and H&M maintain their competitive edge with very low tax rates on the production end, while the wealth they generate is funneled back into a system which guarantees health care, unemployment funds, and a full year of maternity leave which can be taken by the mother or split between both parents.

China won't be instituting anything like this in the near future, but they will keep experimenting with the same combination, even if it continues to go by the name of Communism. Modern China can be cruelly, ravenously capitalist, but the growing wealth gaps, environmental destruction, and other contradictions that Marx was referring to when he declared that "Capitalism will eat itself", are for the time being somewhat contained by strong nationalist sentiments and trust that the government will take care of its people. Most Chinese understand the necessity of the transition from the old state-owned enterprises to more efficient private ones, and they think that moving away from a centralized banking system is a kooky idea that just might work! but they don't want to turn into the United States. They believe that there is some news that the people probably shouldn't hear and some rights that they probably shouldn't have.

As for me, I'm not ready to give up my rights to information or free speech (assuming they still exist by the time I get back to the U.S.), but I'm coming around to the idea of my socialist electronic dictionary. Lately I've gotten really good at the fighter plane game and now it takes me nearly a week to build up enough credit to play through a few stages. In a pinch I play the animal-matching game again, which eats up far less credit. I imagine this is kind of like a coke head who buys a little crack for a fix, and it is just about as satisfying. On the other hand, I've been getting a lot of work done, when I'm not blogging that is.