I forgot that I never got around to posting these pictures from my holidays in Seattle. The essential soundtrack is of course Jose Bold's "December City," available for free download here.
Snowy city.
Chang Laoshi and her husband Wang Junjie go sledding with the neighbors in my mother's south Seattle neighborhood.
Lunch at the Space Needle.
Chang and Wang build a 雪人 (snowman)
Jose Bold and I (plus Montana below) make merry in the snopocalypse.
Montana has this funny habit...
Ryan Dobosh at Easy Street Records, showing us all how it's done.
Some materials from the archives that I dug out of storage: classic flyers from a house party at The Plant, a pictorial of his dog attack and subsequent recovery that Mark sent me from Australia, and some love notes exchanged by Ryan and Vanessa.
NYE at the Rendezvous, featuring Dave and Mark both wearing their groomsmen suits from Austin & Emily's wedding, and Dave and I enjoying our last moments of erotic entanglement before the heartbreaker went and got engaged.
This is Archie, my advisor's miniature hairy dachsund. He comes to school every day with Rick and accompanies him to class. Trained to bark if alerted to any sleeping students, Archie spends most of the class time sitting in Rick's lap, sleeping in the corner (kicking and twitching as he dreams of chasing rabbits and squirrels), and occasionally making the rounds to see if anyone has any snacks. Archie isn't much for loyalty. The treasured pet of a prominent Economic Anthropologist, he is a classic pragmatist, interested in things only to the degree that they might be of utility to him. All the same, I've been making headway. I suspect this has much to do with my habit of buying Slim Jims in the grad student lounge before I teach on Tuesdays and Thursdays and presenting them to Archie as tribute. Not only have classes been going tremendously well but these days when I turn left at the second floor stairwell and Archie is hanging out in the hallway he immediately comes toward me and exposes his belly for scratching, whether I smell of jerky or not. My plan is to get him to sit in my lap before I graduate and it seems I'm on track thus far.
Some of you have inquired as to just when I will be finished with school and (gasp!) getting a real job. Unfortunately I have no idea. This semester I am taking my very last course and teaching a bunch of lively undergraduates everything I know about consumption in China. I'm planning to take my qualifying exams in the fall (summer will be devoted to preparation, which based on my colleagues' experience seems to involve reading 2-3 books/day for several months) which will give me a second Masters' degree and advance me to Ph.C. (Ph.D. candidacy), but right now my fate for next year is in the hands of several fund granting institutions.
The news so far is good. Of the four grants I've applied for I've made it to the second round for two (with no news yet on the others). I won't know the final decisions until April or possibly May. Waiting is no fun and I try not to let my mind wander into the unknown future or imagine the disappointment of rejection. Last Friday, after presenting a well-received conference paper on Chinese media coverage of the melamine-tainted milk scandal I received news of my rejection from a dissertation workshop I was really excited about. Self-flagellation and crises of faith ensued until my friends here talked some sense into me. My wise friend Sarah had the sage advise (passed on to her from an academic elder) that every time you get rejected for something you have to go out and buy yourself something nice - that way the bad news will be cushioned by triggering a hedonistic mission. I like this idea very much and figure that if I end up not getting any funding for my research next year I will at least end up with a bottle of expensive National Science Foundation Scotch, a pair of Social Science Research Council shoes, and some pretty Fulbright dresses.
Regardless of the grants, I've decided I will definitely be going back to China next year just to keep my Chinese in practice, make more connections, and learn more about the country and its people. That may very well mean getting a job, but I am prepared for such an eventuality. Graduate students work harder than just about anyone else I know so I imagine it would be a nice change of pace. This semester, with my light workload, I am less busy than I've been in years. I'm trying to figure out what to do with my sudden surfeit of free time, which is becoming easier now that the frost has finally broken and it is slowly warming up. Does anyone remember what I liked to do back in the days when I had a social life (aside, of course, from gin)?
Oh well, I'll figure it out soon enough. And even with free time I'll still be spending way too much time in the anthropology building, reading, making tea, and endlessly planning my lectures. Nice work if you can get it.
Describe the strongest aspect of the instructor's teaching:
Very knowledgeable about the topic and she's very cultural which definitely corresponds to the subject matter.
Erika was one of my favorite teachers this semester. She was very aware of the personalities of her students and altered the lessons in a way the was more kondusive to the class. Her lessons were very well-rounded, thus helping develope skills useful in multiple areas.
relates issues to our lives, shows differences we can make, and makes class enjoyable. and she's cute ha
Professor Kuever expressed her vast knowledge of the course to the students to create a better understanding.
I think Erika will make a great professor. She definitely clarrified confusing things, and made it easy to ask questions. She is very approachable as well. Sometimes the class got a little disorganized but I think that is due to some of my classmates. It was enjoyable to come to this discussion.
The strongest aspect was her ability to gain the attention of the class and her promptness in returning papers.
I enjoyed discussions. I especially liked when Erika would integrate her personal experiences into discussion. She was laid back but enthusiastic which provided for a really comfortable atmosphere.
I'm relieved to say that the evaluations were overwhelmingly positive though a few kids did think class was sometimes "boring" and a handful complained that I talk too fast (true). I plan to improve on that in my class this semester by doing cartwheels around the classroom while lecturing very, very s l o w l y.
In other news, it was -5 degrees this morning when I left the house and I am SO OVER IT INDIANA, OKAY? Every centimeter of flesh exposed to the bitter, frosty air is a centimeter of pain. Of course it has since warmed to 4 degrees (which is still -16 degrees celsius) so I think I am ready for a margarita.
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
*** 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.
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.
Snowy city.
Chang Laoshi and her husband Wang Junjie go sledding with the neighbors in my mother's south Seattle neighborhood.
Lunch at the Space Needle.
Chang and Wang build a 雪人 (snowman)
Jose Bold and I (plus Montana below) make merry in the snopocalypse.
Montana has this funny habit...
Ryan Dobosh at Easy Street Records, showing us all how it's done.
The Seattle Aquarium
Jose Bold performing with "Awesome"
Some materials from the archives that I dug out of storage: classic flyers from a house party at The Plant, a pictorial of his dog attack and subsequent recovery that Mark sent me from Australia, and some love notes exchanged by Ryan and Vanessa.
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NYE at the Rendezvous, featuring Dave and Mark both wearing their groomsmen suits from Austin & Emily's wedding, and Dave and I enjoying our last moments of erotic entanglement before the heartbreaker went and got engaged.
New year, new look.
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