Into the World:
The Random Thoughts in My Mind

This author is not a busy man at the moment, in fact a man with very very abundant amount of leisure.  There is no getting around this fact.  It is all the more ironic considering a mere few months ago, he was working six days a week, some twelve hours a day, getting so physically and emotionally sick from the experience that he had to quit his job, leave the country , take a massive pay cut, just to recover from the fiasco.  A part of him is starting to miss the days where he had so little time for himself that savings started accumulating not particularly because he was being financially astute, but simply because there was no time to spend cash.

As a solo traveler with some psychological obsessions , the author have plenty of items that have accompanied him throughout his travels.  The roads walked with these inanimate objects, whether it be shoes, backpacks, or umbrellas, become so nostalgic, that the author has began to share with them more memories than he has with, well, normal people.  In what would be perceived as unusual for most normal people out there, the author has in essence began to develop what he would sincerely term emotional bonding with these inanimate objects, out of mutual support and camaraderie of traveling.

The author, despite espousing some strong left-wing views , tend to be in agreement with some neo-liberals on the fundamental direction of humanity's future.  It will primarily be defined by two inevitable, unstoppable flows of history.  On one side is democratization, a rise of the empowered masses, bolstered by labor's increasing ability to leverage their economic roles, utilize independent sources of information, and propagate their own organized opinions to large populations via social media.  On the other is globalization, the gradual breakdown of state control over cross-border exchanges of goods, capital, and labor.

Taiwan is burning. It is a feeling felt on the streets surrounding the national legislature, occupied by students for more than a week now to oppose the Cross-Strait Service Trade Agreement with China. It is an emotion that is gushed over the screams, the loud shedding of tears, and harsh words of the protest spokespeople who had chosen to stand the make-shift central stages in rotation. They speak without an end, keeping the voice of the movement continuously heard, and in the process tirelessly rallying the sit-in crowd, whose members, hailing from all corners of the island, gave up their studies, jobs, and families to hold their ground.

The first rays of light in the morning accompanies the receding darkness of the night.  When bright colors of nature once again scar off the uniform blackness that enveloped the land, it is time to start anew, completely anew.  The clear blue sky heads into the mind through the eyes, clearing out any mental debris that tired it from the night before.  Refreshing, reinvigorating...it re-balances the senses and reassures one that what is past is the past, and what is future starts now, ready to be written on a new, blank chapter.

For those people who are following Taiwanese politics at the moment, the past few days have been a bonanza.  An ambiguous announcement by the ruling Ma Ying-jeou administration that the ongoing ratification process for a second-stage free trade agreement with China will somehow bypass the normal legislative process has triggered a severe backlash from Taipei's student community.  In response to the legislature's meek non-response to executive intentions from the presidency, the students have surrounded, stormed, and occupied the legislature, starting a sit-in protest that is now entering its sixth day with no stop in sight.

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...

For those who survived that life-changing massive earthquake rocking much of Japan on March 11th, 2011 , it is difficult to believe that the event has officially marked its third anniversary of two days ago.  For the author, the memories of coyly remaining in fetal position on the 20th floor of a near collapsed office building are emotional scars that will undoubtedly remain with him for the remainder of life.  The Armageddon-like aftermath, with continuing aftershocks, anxious people clogging roads leading out of town, and empty shelves in every store, continue to remind him daily the very fragility of human society.

With the news of "disappeared" Malaysian Airlines Flight MH370 slapped across the headlines of major global and Asian news outlets for several days now, it seems that all the intrigues and possibilities for the flight has become the only newsworthy news as of the moment.  In contrast, the ongoing crisis in Ukraine has been pushed way down the list of priorities for coverage, so much so that the author is starting to have fantasies that the country has gone back to its usual state as a decrepit but calm "transition economy" he met in person a few years ago .

The author began this lazy Saturday with an afternoon coffee with a Taiwan-based political risk consultant, serving American companies hoping to get established in the local market on the island.  As much as he tried his best to portray some advantages of Taiwan, especially in the technological and cost side of doing business, the key takeaway, ultimately, was how difficult it is to attract clientele for the local office here.  This was especially so when compared to other offices based in China and Southeast Asia, where clients piled in to inquire about services offered.

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.

A sleek black Mercedes pulled itself next to the street-side bar where the author and his two friends began their night with a couple of Gin and Tonic's to wash down an anxious sense of uncertainty on what is going to happen next.  The bar owner, the gracious host for the night, motioned his three new friends into the black-leather backseats of the spacious vehicle.  Putting himself on the front passenger seat, he prompted a casual small talk with the elderly driver, who appeared professional but relaxed in his tuxedo uniform.

One of the biggest, most luxurious, and most famous departure stores in Taipei is beyond just a building with expensive brand-name shops.  It is actually a complex of FOUR buildings, each of which 7-8 storied and all of them connected via pedestrian-only bridges on the ground level, and sky bridges on the 4th floor.  From restaurants to food courts, cosmetics to clothing lines, activity halls to nearby movie theaters, the Shin Kong Mitsukoshi seem to contain everything a shopper would ever want in order to while away a lazy weekend.

When talking about Taiwanese politics, China is the elephant in the room.  These words from Western media should not and indeed really do not face disagreement even here in Taiwan.  Certainly, for an island where 40% of exports head to China and 10% of citizens live in China, to speak of political issues in a Sino-centric fashion would not be at all excessive or exaggerating.  And looking at events of the past across the Strait and potential repercussions for the future , the fixation of local politicians and common people with China is very well justified.

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.

Recent posts on this blog has been strongly focused on the role of institutions, both political and socio-economic, on the development (or lack thereof) of a national entity or a community.  But instead of just focusing on what institutions are needed, as done before , it is probably more pertinent to consider how to make those institutions "stick," i.e. their rules enforced, followed, and respected by the vast majority of leaders and people so that the institutions remain relevant and central to the operation of the society in question.  A quick examination of Taiwan for few days may give an answer, even if incomplete.

As the author reaches the few final hours of being in the Philippines before flying off to Taipei for his new job and life , it would be pertinent to give a last minute advice to the country that he somehow managed to call home for more than a year continuously (for those who don't know, this is the longest continued residence in one place for the author since his undergrad years at Yale).  Not to say the author haven't wrote plenty about the country already, but little of the previous writing touched on the future of the country from an economic perspective, with focus primarily on its social side.

In recent news, the annual "slaughter" of dolphins in Japan's Wakayama Prefecture has been splashing headlines in many news outlets, drawing widespread criticism from manly Western audiences.  The author feels particularly at home discussing this topic as his summer internship at Wakayama's municipal government, where he personally encountered whale-hunters and retailers, gave him a perspective on this previously little-known facet of Japanese tradition.  And the author is a fan of whale meat, and possibly dolphin too, had he the chance to taste.

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 ongoing political stalemate in Thailand, entering an even grander stage of opposition protests and incumbent counter-protests to paralyze Bangkok, seems to see no end.  Fueled by continued anger over talks of inappropriate use of national funds, hidden corruption , and unjustifiable grips on political power by the so-called "Thaksin regime", the opposition seems to still have plenty of firepower left despite private murmurs among its supporters that they are pushing too far with their demands, and that their lives are increasingly being disrupted by the constant need to be on the streets.

The line between being alone and being lonely can become really blurred when one remains on the road at an almost semi-permanent basis.  Physically being in new, strange places constantly, a traveler become a "floater," a being without a group of long-known acquaintances that give one the reason to remain in that place for long time .  That idea of being physically alone and friendless at times, more often than not, begin to affect one's mental state toward a sense of confusion as to whether that sense of being alone is voluntary or forced, and whether willingly accepted as a side effect of traveling.

The ideas of fighting for honor, to modern human beings, seem like obsolete ideas of the past fit for history books but anachronistic in modern societies where rational considerations for individual and collective interests trump what is often perceived an overtly emotional exercise of avenging wrongdoings for vague moral purposes.  And indeed, the last Hollywood blockbuster "47 Ronin," a sci-fi-tinged retelling of a Japanese true story about a group of master-less samurai revenge-killing a rival lord for their dead master, cannot get more medieval in context.

U.S. embassies all over the world tend to have a shared characteristic: they strive to look like military barracks, surrounded with heavily armed guards and barbed wires to fight off terrorist attacks at any given notice , rather than a diplomatically positive representation of America as a socially advanced and politically liberal place that its politicians seem to tirelessly promote when abroad.  Usually taking up prime real estate in highly urbanized areas, these American missions demonstrate American power, but in the most off-putting and scarily unapproachable fashion possible in everyone's eyes.

It is not particularly surprisingly that as people get older and older, their attitude toward the coming of a new year turn from excitement and anticipation to something more akin to avoidance, nostalgia, or in extreme cases, hatred.  When one starts to become more aware of age and less aware of concrete progress in life, the passage of time, as symbolized by coming of a new year, becomes more and more a sign of meaningless aging, of another year passed without significant accomplishments or achievements, and, again, in extreme cases, another step closer to that inevitable end of human life.