Into the World:
The Random Thoughts in My Mind

Someone who lives in an ethnically homogeneous society ( or at least one that claims itself to be ) often requires a visually exaggerated definition of race in order of make sense of distant peoples they often cannot meet in real life.  Oh ok, Italians eat pasta, Japanese eat sushi, Americans eat hamburgers...thats all harmless and well if one never gets to meet an Italian, a Japanese, or an American.  Whatever it takes to help people remember different peoples and their practical differences, then, would prove somewhat valuable for, say, watching TV or going for short tourist visits in foreign countries.

When a friend invited the author for dinner in a Tibetan restaurant here in Taipei, the author's first thought was, well, a complete blank.  What the hell is Tibetan food?  And it is all the more embarrassing that the author has no clue, as most Chinese people are brainwashed to some degree that Tibet is an inseparable part of China , and by the same logic, Tibetan food ought to be considered an inseparable part of Chinese cuisine.  But the bigger question here is, how does a Tibetan restaurant, in a land where few Tibetans reside and few locals know about Tibet outside casual trips and political news, even survive and prosper?

Recently, a massive cruise ship accident off the coast of Korea has become the latest human disaster, quickly overshadowing the still nowhere-to-be-found Malaysian Airlines flight 370 to become the global headline-grabber.  Global attention and sympathies proved easily to obtain in such combination of circumstances: a holiday cruise of young high schoolers enjoying the last vacation before exam studies, a country supposedly leading the world in a technological manufacturing, and a rescue procedure so inept-sounding, incompetent-looking, and punctured with a story line so full of holes that the casual observer can only be shocked.

A casual Thursday night, the author found himself having a beer at the local English-style pub with a French academic.  Coincidentally being a coworker at Academia Sinica like the author himself , the Frenchman shared some of his own opinions of what is it like working as a researcher in a strange land with a different system.  The results are by no means flattering and one thing stood out the most in his assessment: it is that a mentality of "let's temporarily be here until we can get a better opportunity abroad" that prevails among the non-tenured employees of nearly all institutes.

A massive marketing poster for a new book was splashed across the gigantic display window of a bookstore on a busy street of Changhua City.  "No Relation to China," the book title read, "only by taking China out of its psyche can Taiwan realize its possibilities."  Great, finally someone is openly on the same page as the author when he spoke of the need for the Taiwanese to focus more on domestic politics, period .  But for some reason, placed in context in this particular geographic location, this gigantic poster started to take on an additional nuance...

Deep in the forested hills of Taiwan's central mountain ranges, there is a little aboriginal village of a mere thousand people named Fuhsing.  A winding paved road pass through its main tourist strip where urbanites with cars stop over before heading further into the mountains to see lakes and waterfalls.  There on the strip is a small hole-in-the-wall serving up hearty portions of stirred-fried wild boar meat.  Its relatively dark interior and rather run-down facade compared to neighboring restaurants made it rather unpopular with the tourist crowd used to Taipei's bright lights.

At one moment the author and his friend were the only customers in a quiet hole-in-the-wall halal restaurant, and just five minutes later, to their bewilderment, the shop was getting over run by a Chinese tourist group, who took up 3/4 of the restaurant in two waves.  Even as massive, money-wielding Chinese tourists have become a common sight abroad in the past decade, this one was maybe a bit subtly different.  The venue was a Muslim restaurant, and the tourist group was composed fully of Chinese Muslims taking perhaps their first trips to Taiwan.

When it comes to Westerners stereotyping Asians for the way they entertain themselves, a few truisms dominate.  Most notably, speaking of karaoke, an activity popular from the most basic "resorts" in the Philippines to out here in Taiwan, the Westerners do not mask their disdain.  Calling the drunken butchering of so many classics something "less interesting than watching paint dry on the wall," travel guides do not hesitate to place them at an inferior status compared to the glorious emergence of Western-style bars, pubs, and dance clubs in international-oriented major Asian cities.

For someone who has lived outside the the Chinese-speaking world for the past however many Chinese New Year's, the author already lost a real concept of what Chinese New Year's ought to look except hearing frequent news of people who accidentally injure themselves with fireworks.  But thankfully, walking around the old town of Taipei on this warm New Year's eve, he felt that, for some reason in the back of his mind, what he saw is what Chinese New Year's should look like if it is authentic.  The crowds praying at temples and buying New Year's snacks like pumpkin seeds looks legit enough.

It is apt that this post falls on the day after the annual celebrations of Martin Luther King Jr's birthday in the US and around the world.  The African-American activist, decades ago, led the civic rights movement that marked the tentative (albeit trouble-filled) first steps of blacks being recognized as legal equals in America.  More importantly, he created a culture in the US that made overt or covert racism against blacks all but taboo, making it completely normal for blacks to publicly launch dignified campaigns against any scent of assaults on their racial dignity by other races.

In recent news, while India has been busy perceptively becoming the rape capital of the world, Hong Kong has been taking definite steps toward the title of "maid-abuse capital."  High-profile physical violence of foreign domestic workers, one of which involving a to-level administration official at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, has brought forth a small but increasing focus on the plight of the lowly, underpaid migrant workers from Third World countries, toiling away in a strange land far from home, while little legal protection from authority both in Hong Kong or their home countries .

The author, like many people elsewhere, often daydreams about what the world in the future may look like.  And as a not-so-well-trained social scientist , he does have certain observational tools to help hi decode the general trends of where humanity is heading toward.  There is no definitive, absolute vision of future, of course.  There are simply too many factors that will derail any concrete details.  In the worst case scenario, Hollywood has already made countless predictions with apocalyptic sci-fi films.  Everything from nuclear holocaust to life-ending climate change to alien invasion is definitely possible.

Every time the author goes to see an Indian film, with its fanciful, high octane dance moves, he wonders why this particular genre, so prolific in absolute terms, have not made a bigger splash on the global stage.  Contrary to what many people say, many Bollywood films are not particularly plotted narrowly for the comprehension of only an Indian audience, and indeed have simple straightforward good-guy-vs-bad-guy story-lines that are so tantamount to Hollywood's success in places where knowledge of American culture and English language is still sorely lacking.

It was meal time on the (non-budget airlines) flight into Mumbai from Bangkok.  As per standard practice, the flight attendants went about up the aisle, asking "fish or chicken?" and handing out the appropriate meal as requested.  Then he came upon this particular traveler, who stared back at him, awaiting for him to pop the standard question.  He stared back blankly, and without a word, fixed a meal tray, and handed over.  "Here, Thai food."  He whispered, not expecting a comprehensible reply, moving on before the surprised author can say "thank you" in return.

For a Chinese visitor to the supposedly Cantonese-only territories of Macau and Hong Kong, which of their supposed "second language" to use, as the author has been figuring out firsthand, a matter of trial and error, coupled with self-reflection on the identity of both the speaker and the audience.  For most people, the answer to the question raised in the title is more than obvious: if you don't speak Cantonese, just speak whichever one that you are able to, and can make the local Hong Konger or Macanese understand.  Simple enough.

For those interested in political history of the global South, Bandung , some three hours by train east of Indonesian capital of Jakarta , holds a very significant place.  As the host city of the 1955 Asia Africa Conference that brought together leaders of newly independent/established Third World countries ranging from Nasser in Egypt to Nehru of India to Sukarno from Indonesia.  The Conference brought together a coalition of these new countries on collective behavior with intensifying Cold War as the global backdrop.

It is 10:30am on one of the main thoroughfare of Metro Manila heading to the southern suburbs.  Except...the thoroughfare was no longer a thoroughfare for cars, but for seemingly endless amount of people and goods moving up and down the slim middle path still left over after informal shops and stands took over most of its two paved lanes.  Hawkers hawked and shoppers shopped, all the way down to the main church of the community at the end of the road, where repeated session of what seemed to be a widely celebrated phenomenon of "Wednesday Mass" is now in full swing.

Surrounded by the elated parents, godparents, friends, and relatives, the priest in charge of the baptismal ceremony simply cannot hide his dismay throughout the whole fiasco.  Standing awkwardly to the side while the adults continue to take their turns having their pictures taken while cuddling the baby to be baptized, he calmly hid his annoyance at the continued delay to the ceremony that should have started almost have an hour ago.  the author, even as a devote atheist doubting the very meaning of organized religion , felt embarrassed by the lack of respect in a supposedly sacred occasion.

"You know, there are not that many Japanese people who come to the Philippines, and even among those few Japanese here, only the tiny minority is willing to explore different places and try new things.  I think, as member of this tiny minority, I have the duty and obligation to broadcast my experiences and newly gained knowledge via my blog."  This is perhaps the most genuinely and agreeably righteous comment the author has ever had the fortune to hear firsthand.  It is as if the comment suddenly opened up a whole new understanding of what blogging really means.

Let's start out with a bit of stereotyping: Asian culture is a culture that frowns upon outright, declared refusals.  Because people are taught, in schools, in homes, and social occasions, to focus on maintaining harmonious, non-intrusive, and non-confrontational relationships, people have tendency to say "maybe," "I will think about it," or even "yes" and they play along with the situation uncomfortably just to avoid awkward situations in which they have to openly reject the what they interpret as well-meaning offers made by others.