Things are moving ahead with my transfer into the Urban Environment section, which I previously wrote about here, and it should be decided by the end of next month. That means there is lots of negotiating to do over the next few weeks and, as a result, going on vacation to China for nearly 3 weeks might have to be cut a little short.

So now I'm deciding whether to still go to Beijing and Dalian for a couple days and cut out Xi'an, or just go to Dalian for a week or so. I didn't get to see Dalian very much last time, not to mention it was November and freezing cold, so that could be a worthy choice.

On the other hand, it would be pretty cool to be in Beijing and see some of the sights. I'm not usually one for sightseeing, per se, but having studied Chinese history, it seems less like "tourist attraction" and more of closing the academic loop to extend what I’ve read in books to what I’ve seen with my own eyes; granted, this still takes some imagination since these are mostly relics now. That said, there's lots of history preserved in China—maybe more so than anywhere else in the world—and with so many pieces of the picture, it doesn’t take much to start to comprehend what “time” really means. Dalian itself is also rich in history, although not so much as a central part of Chinese history, but particularly in connection with Japan, who subjugated the peninsula after the first World War as they began to expand their territory.

Nevertheless, as interested as I am in history, I'm looking forward to the future. The new position will bring with it many new opportunities and work/projects overseas, so--at present--I'm looking forward to those experiences as well.

Update: Was told that the other section managers met to discuss my transfer and a few people argued over getting me in their section. Nice to hear. But it is pretty much decided (as per my intentions) to enter the Urban Environment section. One project manager even mentioned to me today that he has a project coming up in Brazil that he'd like me to join! Guess I'd better start practicing my Portuguese!

After the games

I'm currently planning a trip to China once the games are over in Beijing. I still have a visa to enter the country from last year which is valid until the end of October, so I'm taking advantage of that.
Recently, J and I watched a documentary by Discovery on the Great Wall of China. I've been fascinated by Chinese history since university and the idea of actually going to the places I've read about is a real thrill. Our plans are to go first to Beijing where J has some friends that have offered to show us around, lend us bicycles and even a vacant apartment to use while there. We'll stay for a few days and I hope to go to the Great Wall, the Forbidden City, not to mention the urban planning museum I read about recently on James Fallows blog. And of course we'll visit the Olympic facility sites and get some commemorative pictures, no doubt, where I'll be sure to wear my Beijing 2008 cap I bought last year.
After Beijing we are planning to head over to Xian where the Qin Dynasty tomb featuring all the terracotta statues of soldiers, each unique and possibly fashioned after a real person, are well-known as a tourist attraction. There is also a history museum there that got rave reviews by our friend Yang who works as a museum researcher/planner.


Finally, we'll head up to Dalian to meet family, relax and eat lots of good food--especially the fresh seafood they've got. I am also considering having more clothes tailored while there since I've been quite happy with the results so far, and that has only been through mailing my sizes and pictures to the tailor before. This time, if I can get measured in person and pick the fabrics myself, I think I'll get some really cool shirts and slacks.

Lastly, about a month ago, amongst all the pre-game rioting in Lhasa, I could hardly turn on the tv or go downtown without seeing someone in a Free Tibet t-shirt or holding up a flag. J and I talked about it a bit and I realized we had very different views of the issue. Naturally, she had been fed the Chinese historical view and has had little else to go on (nor the interest) since she was much younger. This made me realize that it was not an issue of her being unsympathetic to the issue, but that we had very different access to information. Myself, and I believe most of the Western world, is hearing the side of the story represented by political liberalism and the Dalai Lama (whom I respect), and thus feel the issue is a cut and dry case of oppression. Well, 800+ years of history is hardly ever cut and dry, so I decided to read an account of Tibetean history that would give a bit of insight into the whole issue. This is a pretty fair account of leaders and interaction between the two cultures, not to mention the role of England during their East Indian foray, that says a lot about what the relationship between the Tibetean Autonomous Region and the PRC really is. It hasn't made me think differently from before, as my core belief is that Tibet does deserve more recognition in their role--or lack thereof--in forming policy for development in line with their own distinctive culture. At the same time, the book speaks to reasons why China would claim Tibet as part of their nation and not, say, a sovereign nation that can stand completely on its own. Anyone with an interest in seeing the issue from a historical point of view before judging the current day reality should certainly consider giving the book a read. Luckily, since it's an online e-book, I thought I'd share it here:
The Snow Lion and the Dragon

Musical language

Yesterday I listened to an excellent episode of the radio program Radio Lab that covered the topic of music in relation to language. In the program they interview a professor who studied human ability for "perfect pitch" (that is, the ability to be able to identify any note upon hearing it without having to run to the piano) amongst different language speakers. The comparison between those who spoke English as their mother tongue and those who spoke Mandarin Chinese as their mother tongue were astounding: Chinese speakers were NINE TIMES more likely to have perfect pitch than their English speaking counterparts (all participants were students of music). Since tonal languages like Chinese and Vietnamese have a broader range of sounds that are constantly produced by the speakers at the same pitch, this suggests there may be a connection in the language we learn as infants and our ability for our brains to make sense of the sounds we hear. English is not a tonal language, yet plenty of speakers of non-tonal languages have become famous classical musicians, so this is not to suggest that one group has some special ability that others do not. But it does suggest, along with later content in the show to back this up, that we are able to accommodate new sounds and sound patterns over time (think of that song on the radio or CD you own that you have to hear 2 or 3 times before you decide you like it), however, until we adjust to these sound patterns, they are more-or-less gibberish to our ears.
In any case, as a music lover and a language learner, this was fascinating to me. It also puts some weight to the theory of playing Classical music to infants or even while a baby is still in the womb. It is said that this could increase the child's capacity for intelligence. If anything, it seems feasible to me that introducing the broad range of sounds that are contained in Classical music to a child at a young age would strengthen their acute hearing ability so that they are able to identify not only musical notes (as in "perfect pitch") but also the emotion expressed in human speech, the fine points of foreign languages and pronunciation, and maybe even assist in the complex thought process.
On a different note (no pun intended), think of the popularity of rock n' roll and later forms of music. Not only are they easy for people to relate to and identify with, but something like heavy metal music, that uses simple and sometimes dissonant musical chords, may resonate with someone who is feeling inner turmoil. Likewise, expressive singers may invoke emotions that we otherwise would suppress or pay little attention to. Even some pop musicians could trigger a sense of unity and calm our nerves by the simplicity of their music. At any rate, the affect music can have on our mood is nothing to be ignored, and understanding the language of music could help us to communicate better ourselves. By adapting to various types of music and acclimating to a broad range of patterns in sound, we are opening up our mind to new possibilities and possibly a solution to some conundrum that, up to that point, seemed like gibberish.
(link to Radio Lab episode)

Peanut Butter anecdote

Today I got a phone call from J who was at the grocery store. She was looking for peanut butter.
"They don't have any," she said.
I asked her where she was looking and she said she was by the butter.
Makes perfect sense, and certainly more than it being over by the coffee, tea and cereal in our grocery store, but that's where I directed her.
"Ah, yes, here it is."

Grocery bucket

I'm just realizing that if I don't share these stories somehow, they are not living up to their full potential.

Last night J and I were eating a sort-of egg-drop soup with dinner and I realized that I've had eggs almost every day over the past 4 days. There are really so many ways to use egg that I had either dismissed or outright avoided.
J said that her family used to buy lots of eggs at the market; so many in fact that her mother would bring them home in a big bucket. Forget the carton, in China, they sell eggs by the kilogram! I just love the image of someone bringing home a bucket of eggs.

Marco...

Lately I've been reading a bit about old Marco Polo, thinking, "Just who was this guy?" Turns out he may have been one of the best orators of all time. There are plenty of claims that have been put forth to challenge whether or not he actually went to all the places he proposed he traveled to in his manuscript, "Il Milione". Similarly, there has been plenty of rhetoric to show his stories are viable. But the fact remains that, at a time when the West understood very little about The Orient, Polo elucidated on an advanced civilization with such poise and fervor that his stories spread rapidly throughout Europe. It is said that Christopher Columbus had a copy of Il Milone among his possessions for his journey to find a Westbound route to India - and mind you, this was prior to the printing press.
Polo was held in captivity for some months during the regional clashes at the time (1298), and it was then that a fellow inmate transcribed Polo's stories into old French. Whether Polo actually served as a pseudo-Ambassador for the great Kublai Khan in the 13th century, or if he merely embellished stories he'd collected while stationed at his families trading post near Constantinople on the Black Sea remains shrouded in controversy, however, his ability to relate those stories made him the historical figure he is today, and I would gather, one of the greatest orators of all time. Nonetheless, Marco Polo has become a key figure in understanding history, which at times can be an exercise much like the children's game that bears Polo's name.

Maybe we should get a rabbit?

"Maybe we should get a rabbit," I said.
"How about a dog?" she asked.
"Dogs don't eat cabbage," I replied.

About a week ago, J and I went to our neighborhood vegetable stand (basically, they set up shop in a garage along the shopping street) and bought some odds and ends to make dinner over the next few days. The veggie stand always has good deals, sometimes selling avocados for a third of the supermarket price, or a dozen bananas for the equivalent of a dollar. That day I felt like getting something sweet for breakfast the next morning, so I picked out what looked like an oversized grapefruit from a pile of citrus fruit with a cardboard sign that said, "Mellow Gold: 230yen", (no relation to the album by Beck) which were apparently imported

from America,
"...so you have to buy it," one guy at the shop told me, "It's from your home country."
The thing was so massive you'd think it was imported from Texas rather than California, and it screamed either genetic meddling or citrus elephantiasis. It was like a big yellow softball for giants. But after some intense scrutinization, I chucked it into my basket along with our selection of tomatoes, onions and eggplant.

J was over in another section looking at the leafy vegetables, apparently embarr

assed by my episode with the gargantuan grapefruits. She pointed out the napa cabbage to a store clerk and asked for one, and he picked out the biggest head of cabbage I'd ever seen. It was about twice the size of the mellow gold even. But, what the heck; the thing cost less than a dollar, so we told 'em to bag it up, paid for our veggies and fruit and lugged it all home.

The next day, J talked with her parents on the phone and asked them if they ha

d some good ideas for napa (chinese) cabbage recipes. Her dad apparently knew a good recipe for sour cabbage and kikurage, a kind of mushroom that grows on tree trunks, also known as a "cloud ear". The next night we made cabbage and tofu with rice. And after that we had pork and cabbage stir fry. The week went on and so did the massive cabbage. It seemed like there was no end to its leafy sustenance in sight. I considered making a proposal to UNESCO to airlift these cabbages of infinite capacity to hungry, less-fortunate children in the world. The

week ended but the cabbage went on like a Celine Dion maxi-single, much longer than you could have imagined. The following Sunday, J called her parents again and endured some laughter and chiding over the fact that we were still eating that cabbage.

"Well, the good news is that the heart of the cabbage is very sweet," and then her mom told her a good spicy dressing recipe for a simple cabbage salad.
And so it was, over a week since we bought the thing, that we cut up the last of the cabbage. The salad was excellent, with the tang and spice of the dressing complimenting the sweet, white inner leaves chopped into thin shards, although I wasn't sure if the sweetness that complimented the dressing so well was the actual cabbage or just the sweet taste of victory.

"Hmm," I suddenly had an idea, "actually, rabbit does sound pretty good at this stage."

And with that, we left the dishes to soak in the sink and hopped off to the supermarket to get something we could sink our teeth into.

Close Encounters of the Chinese Kind

I recently had an experience that I'm sure astronomers could appreciate. Scientists that try to make contact with alien life forms must get excited at the prospect of developing intergalactic communications, but they must realize that without basic knowledge of any alien languages, they are up a creek when it comes to making themselves understood. Only if they're lucky will the aliens be able to understand re - mi - do - do - so, the pentatonic communication tactic developed back in 1977. Otherwise, I worry, it might end up sounding like a prank call with a lot of strange sounds and heavy breathing.

Alien: $%"#$"&%$ (Hello?)

Humans: Hello?

Alien: "#%" $%"@%$" .....#!$@!???? (Wow, we've made contact! Hello?)

Humans: Uhh... heh heh.. re - mi - do - do - so

Alien: `"%$#*&!!!'$"#!*`+"%#&!!! (Hey, what the... stop pressing the buttons on the phone!)

(followed by an extremely uncomfortable silence)

I've never spoken to an ALF or an E.T. personally, however, I have experienced the confusion that would ensue in the situation described above. It was February 17th, and across the Sea of Japan, China was ringing in the Year of the Pig on the lunar calendar.

Japan, on the other hand, has been celebrating New Year's according to the Western calendar since 1873, so it was just a regular Saturday night in Tokyo for the most part. Nonetheless, I had plans to celebrate a bit with Jing and her friend, who is also from China, by all going out to dinner, but this is nothing compared to the festivities in China. As the most important festival of the year, Chinese begin celebrating the night before by having a "reunion dinner" with friends and family, followed by seven days of dragon dances, eating dumplings and visiting distant relatives.

I never should have gone off on my own if I'd known what was going to happen, but I wanted to pick up a few things at the electronics store just a few minutes away from the restaurant we had decided on, so Jing and her friend went ahead to the restaurant to get a table. While I was at the electronics store, as you can imagine, I took a look at a few other gadgets and somewhat lost track of time. I glanced at my watch and decided I'd better hurry up to the restaurant since Jing and her friend must've been ready to order by that point. I was just about to line up at check-out when my cell phone began to ring.

Thinking it was Jing telling me to hurry up I took a quick look at the incoming call display and hit the answer button. It was actually in that split second between hitting the button and putting the phone up to my ear that I realized the call was not from Jing. It was a call from overseas, which usually means one of my parents or a friend overseas, but this was country code "44". 44...44?! The phone was to my ear by this point, and another flash second and the synapses in my brain told me it was the country code to China. No sooner did I realize this that I sputtered out one of the few words I know in Chinese, that to answer the phone - "wei" - and stepped into very unfamiliar territory. Oh crap, I thought to myself.

On the other end of the line I heard a woman's voice speaking in Chinese.

"Jing zai bu zai? Ta shang na er le? ...................."

To my ears it might as well have been a Venusian language. The only word I could make out was Jing, and I was pretty sure she was asking if Jing was with me. I tried to think of something I could reply, but nothing would come. Suddenly I remembered, "my name is..." so I tried that.

Wo shi Steve.

I listened intently to the reply, but I couldn't recognize anything. Ah! It must be Jing's mom calling to wish her a Happy New Year. A moment later I heard fireworks and jovial laughter, some people cheering, more fireworks. Still, none of the Chinese I'd studied over the past few months would surface. Except.. oh, yes, I could say:

Wo bu ming bai ni shuo shen ma!

Which, over the telephone, is entirely useless since it simply means, "I don't understand what you're saying" and if you don't say it just right, with all the proper tones, you won't be understood either. There was silence. Panic set in. re - mi - do - do - so??

I tried to think of how I might say I would be with Jing in five minutes and to call back then, but nothing came. How do I say "after"? uhhmm... I tried to remember how to count and I was pretty sure "five" sounded like the letter "r", so I uttered, "Arrr!" and then, as nothing else would come out of my mouth, "Uhhhh!". Double panic mode! Emphatically, I tried again, hoping some miracle would set Chinese out of my mouth, "Um.. R! Jing! R!" My God, I must sound like a crazy person, (especially since, little did I know, but I was saying, "two, Jing, two!" and badly at that). I thought about yelling out for help to the other customers in the store as one might do if there was an accident and someone needed a doctor, "Is there a Chinese speaker in the house?!?" but I stopped myself.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the phone, there were equal attempts at expression with long silences.

"Mei shi er, mei shi er. ...Na jiu zhe yang. Gua le ba..."

Two minutes must have passed. I thought of speaking in Japanese or English, but her mother wouldn't understand that any better. The only other words I could remember were "zai jian" (good bye), but I didn't want to be rude and just say that and hang up on her mother. If only I had known that she had just told me, "It's okay. Nothing important. It's okay to hang up." But that was lost on me. Ironically, her mom didn't want to be rude and just hang up either, so there we were: two confused aliens staring into thin air and holding what at that point seemed like extremely ineffective devises for communication.

More fireworks exploded somewhere and another minute must have passed. Finally Jing's mom said something I recognized. Mixed in with a collage of Chinese, I recognized a distinct "Bai bai". Ah, "bye bye", it had to be! It was like a hunch a police detective gets and just goes with. I didn't have time to doubt it, I simply had to pass the rubicon (wink wink) and take the opportunity, so I hollered zai jian!! A moment later, the call was over.

I was in a sweat. What had just happened?!? Where was I? Blinking a few times, I found myself back on earth in the electronics store, standing in front of extension cords near the check out counter.

Happy New Year!!

Link: learn more about the Lunar calendar new year