L.A., the City of Angels, and My Demons

I'm semi-sorry for anyone (really no one) who reads this imageless blog. Someone stole my camera while I narcolepsied in Scotland. If you find them, beat them up...for your own sake. I know how dry these life reflections are, especially with only my mind-numbing stories. You were warned...

I will be blunt. I am currently not intending to backlog-update my blog. I know I promised and I'm dying to show the world and keep my memories of Thailand, Malaysia, China, Stonehenge and prehistoric civilizations, the gardens and castles of the UK, and my lonely trip through Scotland. But I currently can't. I miss this blog so much, but I cannot listen to my passions right now. No more enrichment for the time being, which is sad because I know procrastinating on life choices and things that mean the most to me will probably be regretted. Oh well...I've already accepted that my spirit and personality has become muted.

This weekend I've decided, I hate Los Angeles...I hate it so much it hurts. It's ugly, disappointing, and gaaaar. Now, the ugliness...whatever. I embrace ugly. To the contrary, I would love to dance amongst ugly. But alas...I cannot.

L.A., you're so disappointing. Everyone hears so much about L.A. It supposedly has everything. This is supposed to be the place where there's cool shops, nice beaches, chill people, a glittering nightlife, you know...something. But where are they?! I don't know.

All I do here is sit in my little piece of the ghetto, dying to explore, to be free...but am trapped in location as well as in spirit. Even when I do try to explore this city, I draw upon utter disappointment. It frustrates me because I know that L.A. is so cool, with hidden spots of intrigue and an integration of unique cultures. But I can never tap it. I can never find it. My high expectations are never fulfilled. The last few times that my experiences exceeded expectations feels like so long ago...Laie, Hawaii/Yorkshire, England/Beijing, China/Mongkok, HK. I miss those times so much...where I just feel like skipping around, reflecting about life, or gasping, "Oh my goodness. Why are you so beautiful?"

And I mean, I get that some. Friday I went to the famous Roscoe's Chicken & Waffles, where trans fat in arteries meets diabetes. And it was amazing to sit under those pink florescent lights amongst obese minorities, dipping fried chicken in maple syrup while talking about life, manwhores, and creating ephemeral beauty within an art piece, like drawing on the shower glass after a hot shower just to watch its message dissipate slowly. Friday was a day of disappointments, but also of inspirations to pull myself back out from it. I will skip over the disappointments because I hate hating L.A. It's not my personality, but it's what I've become...a hater. I must remember that there have been a few inspiring times coming back in this ghetto home. The complaining must stop...at least for awhile. I've had some good times?

• Immersing myself in ghetto fab at the cheap, gold sequined store across from Roscoe's with girls equally enthralled with, I want to say ugly, but it's probably more accurate to say "culture" (aka. L.A. sweatshop clothes stolen/sold out to vendor stalls run by a 40 year old man who truly thought this stuff was currently fashionable.)
  

• Narcolpsying under California's golden rays and getting a tan (more like multiple, weird tan lines) after smelling roses instead of reading my cases as intended.

• Eating the best, cheap burrito in another ghetto, (randomly located between Hollywood and Melrose Place) while slopping on "guacamole" and being serenaded to by two men in sombreros.

• Finding a B-ranked, Thai restaurant after walking for 40 minutes after getting off the incorrect bus stop, taking two wrong buses and misinterpreting that most of Melrose is not full of vintage shops.
  

• Seeing the passion of being a Trojan, from its poor and intoxicated students, to its highest donors and celebrities who get their hot dogs and pretzels delivered by an idealized, bronzed and brilliant Trojan student (me) through the watching of a sport of dancing to protect an animal-skin-covered, oblong object.
  

• Experimenting with culinary talents...if you ever eat my food you probably don't want to know how I made it. My last ingenious culmination included oyster sauce, peanut butter, oranges, vegetables, and (peach) yogurt...
  

• Pretending to speak British again with the use of words such as mingin' (butt ugly), wagwan (hello, ghetto British), and righty-o. In the same sense, inserting random Chinese like waaai? (hello?), wo hen ben (I'm obtuse), and random las (i.e. I am ok, la. You are weird, la.) to unsuspecting people in conversations. Now, however...I have been adapting to my Mexican Spanish surroundings to say mui caro (way too expensive, mister) and my all time favorite, no bueno (no good!).
  

• Communicating with people that I'm missing or will miss. Whether it's people that sleep two steps away from me or people that sleep 7,500,433 steps, 640,500,000 freestyle strokes and half a day away from me. It's nice to hear your vocal mannerisms or read your one-person-in-the-world-type of humor.
  

• Realizing that I'm going through something that I keep telling myself will make me stronger.
  

By the way...I'm going to Mexico. I know I'm way too excited, mui feliz... I would've added 50 exclamation points if grammatical and not trying to not be excited (negative negatives!). I don't want to be so happy as to be disappointed yet again, but I just can't help it. I really need to explore and be my adventurous self once more. Hopefully my no bueno espanol (which is worse than my Mandarin...yeah that says a lot) will allow me to explore and have enough utility to buy four Mexican burrito and thirty Mexican pastries.

I cross my fingers. But now realize that I should've been researching my future (Peace Corps vs. domestic job vs. work abroad vs. golddigging), and implementing good student qualities. Crap, I just re-realized that I'm behind in life. Hasta luego!

Not an entry. A rambling because I'm confused and I woke up from a 11 hour nap at midnight. I'm a bit screwed up. Don't judge.

I don't know. I don't know...

What am I to do with my life?!
As I said before, I don't know.

As I am looking at my life I wonder what am I capable of, what can I continue to do that I will enjoy and be enriching. What? What!? Sigh, I don't know. Nothing, possibly. Maybe the only career I can have is a trophy wife.

But alas, I don't even have the marketable skills for that.

One of the major things that I learned in London was yes, of castles and an eternity of history. But also of how I want to live in the working world. I realized how short-sited the U.S. culture of working can be. I was enlightened to see how the UK and much of the world sees a job as part of one's life, not life entirely. We start off in the states with 2 weeks vacation time a year while that is just one vacation period someplace else. Taking a long vacation and having a balanced life was supported when I was in Europe. Yes, it is hard to cover someone for two weeks, but everyone is more than willing to pick up their calls and help out so that you can catch up on living. There was a mutual understanding that one can get the job done and get the job at home done too. That makes so much sense to me. It makes business sense; it makes Buddhist sense. People are most efficient and inspired that way.

Average Number of Vacation Days
Around the World Per Year

Italy	42 days
France	37 days
Germany	35 days
Brazil	34 days
United Kingdom	28 days
Canada	26 days
Korea	25 days
Japan	25 days
U.S.	13 days

Source: World Tourism Organization (WTO).

Pull yourself out of bed, get to work, work, get back home, breathe, sleep.

How would life be without that breathing part? Some people do not need that breathing period in their day. I am not one of those people. When I was in London, sometimes I sacrificed my breathing. I pulled myself out of bed, got to work, loved work, traveled to other work, loved work again, showered and thought about life to then climb into my crickety bunk bed. It was bed transport work transport work transport bed. The story of my life. I guess if you love work and transport, you'd love your life. But even if I adored every aspect of work, this life would not be sustainable. It would not be a life. If you only had time to breathe on your breaks or on weekends, how horrible would it be to dread holding your breath yet again on Mondays? But that's what it is like now. As it is 3:05am on a Monday morning, I'm thinking, fuck. How can I not breathe again for another week?

As I am looking at different jobs, it amazes me how much people sacrifice. Learning, love, sanity... Sacrificing is not bad. By definition, you get something else for what you give up, assumably something that is of more value to you. It's called opportunity costs. Sigh, I guess I have to really look at myself and what I value. I wouldn't really mind spending three quarters of my life in a cubicle if when I'm working I love what I'm accomplishing and love the people that surround me in it. And in reality maybe it wouldn't really matter if I came home late to do nothing other than brush my teeth and sleep. Because everyone will probably be gone doing their own thing, living in another part of the world and be caught up in their own working lives. People won't just be there for you. Life isn't Friends. They will just want to sleep. They will just want to go to work that next day.

If you couldn't tell...um, it's recruiting season.

And I say a cordial wagwan (hi in British) to all those recruiters who get onto my page, (though I don't know how or why you'd get this far since my friends avoid DJTHK like a plague). Do not fret, if I applied to your fine organization I will put in my life's valuable time and love. I will go grey for you. I will be that dependent, competent employee, the one who knows why she is sacrificing and what enrichment it gives to her. I only address my concerns because I weigh all decisions, unfortunately. Once I make up my mind, I put nothing less than my heart into it. To inquire about a resume, please give me a top-notch contact. I am too busy blogging. Only serious companies with a net worth exceeding $4 billion, with fringe benefits of premium health insurance, a violet Pinto, and over 13 vacation days please.

Marketable skills...marketable skills...
Where art thou?

_______________
On a side note, I think I've whittled down what has become my downers in this period of my life.

1. Lack of transportation. This seemingly insignificant logistic has been crutial in bashing any chance that I had on taking my explorative nature and passion to enrich myself when at home. It has whipped both the functional and passionate properties that independence has on a person. L.A., you are so behind in the times. Even China trumps you.

2. Different priorities. Everyone is busy with their own lives. This is as should be expected. ...But sad. Everyone, including myself is too busy...too busy for each other's grandeur.

3. I've been filling up my time with who knows what (ok I do know what), but this filling has taken away from my being. Sometimes I have to just sit and reflect. But it's sometimes too busy to even remember that I need to reflect...or eat. Sigh, you have to breathe and eat, Crystal. Goddamn it...it's imperative for living. Other things may be important, but you must remember to sleep, eat, and breathe. These are imperative actions to keep on living. Living, in the sense of having a beating heart, and living in the sense of having a beating heart.

I am lucky to have found the rose garden in South Central. I have been there a lot these past days. Though I always attempt to read cases and do homework there I unfortunately always spend too much time smelling various rose species' reproductive organs, weeping for the abroad times, and of course, narcolepsy-ing. Thus, if you see me please ask to see my distinct and unique tan lines which range from two-inch-thick backpack strap on arm to large oblique triangle on midriff.


I really should not be blogging right now. But sometimes you have to do things that you do not "have" to do. And those things that I do not "have" to do have kept me going. These have been my breaths. Talking to people just make my heart beat again. Smelling a rose, same same.

Peaches

Can someone make the pain go away?












like please?

Homesick...but Finally Home

I was meaning to put this up three weeks ago and have failed yet again. I have been writing this post for 16 days and much of it is outdated. (I'm now in Los Angeles and just had my first day (...now week) of school back. That's a whole other post on superficiality, intimidation, and readjustment.) However, I still wanted to express my initial feelings and observations of coming back. My blog on secondary impressions is being started so maybe in the near future you'll read about another stage of my reverse culture shock...and maybe even about my long promised 4 month late travels. (Likely? You decide.)

______________

After being abroad for 7 months and 10 days I am finally back to the place I call home. It's been an amazing journey. When people ask about it, I never know how to start, how to explain what has been the most amazing experience... I can talk. I can show with the pictures that I have...the ones that weren't stolen! But retrospective words somehow cannot quite capture its essence. And for some reason, this is what contributes to my loneliness.

Somehow this blog sometimes catches a glimmer of what I feel, how traveling has impacted my very essence. I am always the most pensive and real when I write. So for anyone that reads this blog, thank you (daw je/xie xie/kap koon ka/terima kasih/cheers) for being there for me. It's nice to be heard sometimes, especially on pensive ramblings that mean so much to my sanity. That is unless I do not know you. Then...get a job or something.

Alone with my thoughts.
But beauty once again. The sanity-saving equivalent to London parks and Asian gardens.
Laie Beach, Hawaii

After being away for so long, it's ironically yet inevitably unfamiliar being home. I have told a few people and I still stick by this. I am homesick. How in the world does this happen when you are home, weirdest Crystal? Sigh, I've built myself a home in HK; I've built myself a home in London. Right now, I miss them both to pieces. I probably shouldn't be reflecting as it makes it hurt so much, but how else would I grow?

I didn't realize how essential growth and learning were going to be to me when I first started this journey. And as I reread an earlier blog entry, I am glad that I started my journey with the philosophy: To do, not just to see to tell, but to change. When I started this journey I wanted to grow as an individual and world citizen. I didn't want my experience to be easy, in hotels and only in shopping malls. In the end, I'd say I didn't get easy. I'm impressed that I was able to learn so much...so much about cultures, so much about different perspectives, so much about the human heart...














I tried for every part of my travels, for all 7 months and 10 days, to live for the experience, to enrich myself and others around me. Learning was a priority over fun, over comfort, even over friends and safety sometimes. And for this, it was hard to shun easy. With easy I may have enjoyed life, but would I be living it? And by me always keeping this mindset, for me to actually try, I got the experience that I did. And for that, I don't regret mistakes. I do so much, but yet...no. It has allowed me to become an empathetic person. Before travelling I could only be a sympathetic person, understanding only a half.














I now understand poor (up to a level, true), what it's like to starve, to only look at the "discounted but still fresh" section to find your lunch and dinner for under 3 pounds. I now know what true loneliness is...what it's like to really leave...how people just need to be heard. I saw truly desperate, both financially and emotionally, and have experienced both. I have learned how to hide tears in the subway. I saw what it's like to need to communicate and not be able to in not only language, but also emotions. I've felt unexpected generosity and complete openness from strangers. I have seen how strongly people need each other, but more so, how strongly people need their pride. I have seen the power of sitting amongst the weeds. I've seen the power of one flower, one dollar, one smile. I have learnt the complexity of the human self. How much you can learn from a stranger. How much you can still learn from a good friend. I have learned what utter disappointment is, how full a heart can be and how quickly that can empty. I have seen how much I want to do with my life. But yet, I still must figure out how I can make that impact.














I am so excited to be in my childhood home, don't get me wrong. I've been looking forward to sleeping on my small but perfect bed with Strawberry Shortcake sheets, feeling my parents' unconditional love by their feeding me obese levels of Hawaii food, and having a stronger connection with my grandparents by having "conversations" in the languages of my roots.

However, being home is still not 100%. Part of my mind and heart has been left behind. I want to share what was my world, what inspired me, what ugly things I participated in. But I realize this can never happen.

I talked to my brother and he told me, "Crystal, of course you're depressed again. Maybe if you're lucky you'll stop being depressed by the end of the semester." I asked him how to make the pain go away. The only things that kept him going through the worst time of his life was daily doses of War of Worldcraft and Friends. And yes, I meant to type in Friends and not real friends...how sad our lives are, I know. His prescription was to watch a good movie, 300 perhaps, and by all means to not talk to friends because that makes it hurt. Similarly the only thing that kept my cousin Todd going was hating life with other depressed abroad returners and watching the awesomely bad reality show about stranger "love", Shipmates. What is to become of me?

Look at these non-depressed, naiveties pre-travel.
Some may call it the calm before the storm. 1988.
This is my brother.

It hurt like this when I left HK. The loneliness, the longing for familiarity, needing people that you shared experiences with. It's hard for me to go through this again but this time it's been easier. Maybe it's because I actually have more than a hands-worth of friends here. Quite frankly I sort of have to get used to knowing people again. But weirdly enough with love from so many family and friends I still feel a weird sense of loneliness. People do not always understand. I love talking about my explorations but it usually lacks that connection of a strong understanding...or even that people really want to hear it.

I stumbled upon this reverse culture shock site in my last ditch to add an emotional roller coaster graph (not found). I was surprised at how impeccable its description is to what I wrote with several descriptions of my current ethos. It's nice to know that I'm not alone but am with other losers with this seemingly irrational perspective of loneliness, agitation and lack of inspiration.

Despite my sagacious brother's warnings, I've been keeping myself busy with quality people and things that remind me of what I miss: exploration, cultural immersion, and loving things like I may never be able to again. These have kept me going and smiling. Keeping busy takes away the amount of time you have to think. Boredom is incessant thinking and devastation. I know I did not want easy, but sometimes I can't keep myself from trying to get over this and scheduling too much in to distract myself. But other times I feel like I shouldn't try to forget. I shouldn't cop out and pretend that my travels aren't a significant part of my life and just move on.

I have 11 days in Hawaii. I only have 5 more left. Hopefully at that time I will not be writing another lame blog about being homesick. Crystal, suck it up you're only in such pain because of how amazing your year has been. You have been tremendously lucky to have traveled to 7 different countries in 7 months. And I realize this. And I thank everyone who has allowed me to do that, which includes everyone reading this for you have all in some sense experienced this with me and provided support.

Fighting the consequences of the travel bug, I decided to smack it with it's own medicine, to travel within my home. I mean, why can't I explore this home? I know I'm only in Hawaii of all places but maybe I could jump off a waterfall or something. Ugh.

Some hike in a Palolo, Hawaii backyard with random fruit plants and a sewage pipe















So yesterday I went hiking up a random unheard of "trail". We printed out directions to get to this "hike." So after winding up a few roads, passing a "white pole that says 'Let there be peace on Earth'" and a KAPU (forbidden in Hawaiian) sign we got to this "trail"...probably someone's back yard. Looking around we did not see a very distinct path but with our critical thinking skills decided to just head for the stream and follow it as there was a waterfall ending. Unfortunately, to get down we had to climb down a nearly vertical hill and cling to vines and roots. Fortunately, we saw ginger (which have highly useful roots...though not for clinging to) and Hawaii mountain apples (which we couldn't hit down with rocks). And shhh..secretly I love random non-trails.

Matsumoto's shave ice. Infamous. (See 50 First Dates)
Me being weird and uncoordinated...dropping some.



















That morning I remember missing being able to wander and smell the most fragrant roses from a random UK garden. But then for the first time I felt that I was able to finally appreciate Hawaii, to really appreciate it's gorgeous nature and idealized essence with one deep breath of ginger. I was at home. I was able to smell what Hawaii is, what everyone dreams it to be. Seeing an actual ginger plant, a non-commercial interaction with this herbal and essential culinary ingredient in the wild with its untouched white flowers blew my mind. I know, I sometimes look too much into things...

Home...like "home"
Same same but different

Thank you, Hawaii.
Thank you Hong Kong, China, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, England and Scotland.
Daw je.

If you ever meet your inner child, don't cry.

Tell them everything is gonna be alright.

World, hold on.

The End is Soon

I wanted to let everyone know that I am physically ok. I haven't been writing because of my attempt to be too busy to feel homesick not because of any bomb incidents, torrential flooding, or a physical inability to. Thank you to everyone who thought about me when they heard about all the terrorist attacks in the UK from attempted car bombs to an inflamed car speeding toward Glasgow's airport and even when there happened to be too much rain in this already rain-soaked country. It's nice to know that some people care about my safety.

If you didn't know, terrorism scares gripped Britain several weeks ago and non-stop raining flooded much of the middle of England this past week...and then some.

Although I haven't been writing online, I did write about my reflections on these powerful incidents in my journal which I am sharing with you now, postdated on July 2nd. Initially these things didn't phase me. It felt so far away. But one day when I was sitting at work looking at the map of the car bomb locations, it really hit home. I was there. I walked those streets. I looked at Tiger Tiger and thought that could be a fun place to be one night. But it definitely would not have been fun on that night. Here it is:

On Thursday evening two cars were found in relation to terrorism attacks. They had petrol and nails in them. If they blew up it would've sent huge fireballs with shrapnel the size of houses throughout a 400 yard radius. The cars were found in Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square, close to the pub where I work.

Initially the disastrous event didn't really hit me. It was not a reality to me; it didn't affect me; it didn't seem to harm my living. However, when I saw the pictures of where it occurred and actually thought about these attacks in more than a selfish, immature way, it's scary. It's really scary...

I work close to the places that were supposed to be bombed. Just the other week I left work, took a drink at another pub and tried to find the bus back home. I took a few wrong buses, of course. (e.g. wrong direction, switched number, which one's stop E?!, fell asleep, got my phone stolen...ok not all of that is from that night...) I ended up through Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square and Oxford Street, the places mentioned before. I remember seeing the club Tiger Tiger and thinking how ghetto-swanky it looked and reminisced about Singapore (because everything in Singapore is Tiger-related, from Tiger Balm to Tiger beer) and Tiger Heat (the most hopping Cali-based gay (aka 'light' in England) club). The car bombs were found outside Tiger Tiger when an ambulance man who was attending to a knocked-up inebriated man saw smoke coming from a Mercedes, i.e. the car bomb that would have devastated this city I love. It seems too surreal. That was where I was. That is where I could have been. That is where I continue to bus past.

Bombs could be wherever I go, sure. These "hot spots of terrorism" however, are places where I frequent. They're upping security at Wimbledon, at the parks, at the airport. These are all places where I will be this week. And then it really hit: this affects me. Fireballs the size of bloody houses?! I can't handle that. Shrapnel piercing through staggering night clubbers trying to run away? No, la.

But what hit me most was the question that seemed the most logical then: If a large piece of nail pierced my chest and I did died, how would I feel? And I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't mind so much that I'd be dead. I mean it wouldn't be ideal. I would have liked to have seen Japan, to have seen friends and family again, to change the world in insignificant ways, yes. But I would be fine with the end of my life if it occurred tomorrow. The end would be the end, yes. However, I'd care more on how people would remember me and react to my end of existence. I'm just curious who'd cry, who'd care. If anything would really be different.

I thought about my life and concluded that if I died I'm pretty happy with where I am now as a person. If people just remember my life up to now, no regrets. I've been so enriched from traveling and have become a person that I could look at objectively and not despise too much. I have grown and gotten a better understanding on my true personality, how much of a nutter I am, how curious and full of intention I am, and how dilatory and pensive I've become. Traveling costs so much money and time that I and everyone else always have too little of. I am just so lucky to fit in traveling even when I think I cannot.

I am rather happy with where I am now despite me feeling lost and behind all the time. I have met so many amazing people abroad and made meaningful experiences with them. This made me appreciate all of the people and experiences that I have at home. Unfortunately I'm homesick and ironically this consequently makes me already miss London and HK. I cried yesterday...in a good way. I realized that I have grown so much in all these places that I am and will miss so much. My heart has grown in HK and England. Leaving these places and the people here makes me feel empty not because my heart is torn out. But my heart has become larger by living in these places, and a loss from leaving them makes my heart still greater than it was before. It's good. I've grown...but it doesn't make it hurt less.

But I will be reunited one day, possibly. I will be reunited with Hawaii soon, hopefully soon enough.

Attempts: Fitting in London...Fitting in in London

I think I may have worried some people in my last post. Um...sorry for that. Sorry I miss you guys too much I guess. But I'm doing better...ish. I've tried to make myself busy to feel too much loneliness. It's quite good medicine, this lack of time. So what have I been doing to try to forget about you all and even not get my needed hours of beauty sleep? I don't know how I keep not doing all I need to do (i.e. blogging), but this post will possibly enlighten with some highlights.

Time Consuming Fodder #1:
I found myself a part time paid job. It overlooked the London Bridge which is utterly gorgeous at night. Too bad that ended...but all for the best as working 12 hrs a day was not good for the soul...or the lungs. We'll keep bad talking to a minimum on public forums. But if you want the juice, feel free to call/email me.

From my classy restaurant job
...which served defrosted dim sum and other types of classy "Asian" cuisine














Time for Immersing #2:
I found myself another job. Now I'm a bartendress. Although I'm not a beer guzzler, it's nice to learn a new skill. A lot of rich USC people within the program here keep asking, why are you working? Well... 1. I'm not rolling in pounds (every Londoner goes on trips to Manhattan because it's goddamn cheap! Yes, I still don't understand that. Damn this conversion rate!) and 2. I want to immerse myself into the British culture, which involves everpresent boozing. (There was a huge concern recently on the alcoholic nature of the Brits, whose beer costs cheaper than water.) So far, pretty interesting interactions...maybe I'll write about my observation and philosophies on human needs and nature someday. Too bad tipping's on the low end...like a pound an hour?

So I've realized how little time I have in London and needed to get my arse (as they call it) together and stop pouting. Too much to see. So last weekend I went to see my first castle ever. Enough with temples; now cathedrals and castles! It's funny. In Asia...(the infamous and supposedly annoying start to many of my sentences, which I'll have to save for reunions unfortunately) you always randomly bump into temples and pavilions. Always refreshing. Here, it's beautiful churches and cathedrals...scattered with homeless people.

Time Distraction #3: Leeds Castle


















Leeds Castle, 1.5 hours out from London took me surprise surprise...4 hours to get there. Let's just say that it wasn't only my bad directional skills, but also that London has the worst customer service in the world. It makes me not feel bad putting 10% tips.

Leeds Castle, the royal residence for six medieval queens of England, included a castle surrounded by a moat, gardens (of course), a hedge maze, and too many types of fowl.

Insensitive to culture


















At least I'm not the only one
The Painted Hall, Greenwich


















What a pompous creature. I'm surrounded by pompous creatures.
It opened its feathers and turned around 9 times.


















But gorgeous...













Scaling...like a Mongol.
(Man do I need to post about China. Oh the stories...)














Yeah, I know I said I didn't have friends. This is one of my few friends, Karen.
She's an Aussie. She teaches global things to me, like of nasty food like Vegemite (yeast extract that weirdos put on toast) and what Prince Harry looks like when taking a jog...red.














Boring, I know...a garden.
Another beautiful garden.














Enough of castles for now. Look forward to falling, ruinous castles abandoned by their owners. That's what I want to see. Enough of pristineness, enough of perfection. I want to see the effects of history, intrigue, and reality. Hopefully one day...

Blinding Myself of Time #4 by Learning About it:
Last week I headed out to Greenwich (Pronounced Gren-ich, though you'd think that the English would know English phonetics). Greenwich is known for being the origin of global timekeeping, King Henry VII's principle residence, and where Bloody Mary and the Virgin Queen (Elizabeth) were born. I went into a clock museum. Exciting, huh? Well, it actually was. Nutshell of excitement: accurate global time has everything to do with latitude/longitude and maritime. That is why the Prime Meridian (the origin of our time measurement system) has everything to do with Greenwich Median Time (GMT). Thus GMT+8 (i.e. HK) is 8 hrs ahead of London time (Greenwich is in London, so it's GMT+0) (ish...matters with daylight savings) which is 8 longitude measurements over. [Long sentence, read by no one.]

On the prime meridian
My body is in different time zones. Is this the source of all my confusion and dilatory nature?


















Painted Cathedral
Me and Sir Christopher Wren?














Time scarfing #5: Gluttonous food consumption
So as my co-workers want to disprove that the Brits are known to have the worst food in the world, they've helped me compile an extensive list of what to eat. One thing that was claimed to be rather lovely is the treacle tart, a crispy pie crust filled with a "gooey sugary goodness". So we had a treacle tart party at 3:30 but these sub par pies were pretty much just filled of liquid sugar...covered in soggy cornflakes.

Supposedly these grocery tarts were not a good representative of the wonder of treacle tarts.














The co-workers respond:

Viscount Langley-Smith...



















The British cuisine aficionado admits this British defeat to American desserts


















The Sheriff ignores this pud for more interesting work
Brits call all desserts pudding...even if it's not...well, pudding














My first fish and chips



















I found out that the Brits have a different type of egg style than us: Eggy Soldiers. Once I heard about them I had to make them and be a Brit for a night. These supposedly scrumptious numbers are strips of toast dipped into carefully hacked into soft boiled eggs. I um...screwed up the eggs. Google failed me again and said don't boil them more than 3 minutes, but they were still runny. So I put them in the microwave...Boom! I made another alteration and used garlic naan instead of bread. I am now a laughing stock within the office. A laughing stock!

I tried...


















Taste of London
Got excited for great but not-really-English food






































Time Item #6: Not Blogging, Obviously
I wish I could post more often. I do fail at life quite often. Sorry for any and no one that may read this religiously. Unfortunately, posting takes me days as I try only to put up my best...which some still think is sub par. But do look forward to pictures and commentary on life in Malaysia, China, and London (which includes my adventures of this week).

Like a fish out of water...or more like a water out of fish

I've been here in London for five days...yet, I still feel out of place. Every night I've been sleeping in a room full of five other girls but ironically...I'm lonely. I can't believe I'm writing this in a globally public place, but yes...I feel by myself in many ways right now. This is the first time that I've been so disconnected from that which is familiar in terms of personal connections. I have to start from scratch here. I've moved to a few places: LA, HK...yet, I've always at least semi-known a few people, it was always easy to make friends, and I actually wanted to make friends.

I feel as out of place as this Smart Car does. Watching it parallel was impressive. Quite like a circus...














Hyde Park, a savior to my sanity














Yes...I'm going through a bit of reverse culture shock and it's affecting my British experience. I was semi-excited to come to London. Though if I did more research I'm sure I'd be ecstatic. Everything here is so similar to what I'm used to in the States: English speaking, sitting toilets, an understanding of what's in my food...easy. Yet, it's so dissimilar to what I'm used to now that I've been away for so long: rarely accurate communication, being targeted as a foriegner, nasty puddles...hard. I can't handle this "easy" situation. My attitude is blinding me to the character that the burroughs of London teems with.

Here in London I fit right in. Ironically, this makes me feel out of place. There are other people taller than me again. Not only guys...women too. You get used to having a certain angle of viewing the world...and then it changes by who is around you. Some people are even fatter than me; there are obese people again...how odd. I no longer get stared and pointed at. In Asia there are hordes of men and women. China alone has 1.32185888 billion people. When I was there I felt a sense of individual worthlessness. There were so many people who all seemed the same to my ignorant self: features, mannerisms, knowledge etc. And I thought, what does one life mean? It seems so insignificant. Look, they're all same same. (Sorry if I use the Asian mantra "same same but different" incessantly). Yet I felt different because of this; I felt foriegn. They gawked and pointed. That made me feel special...even if it was in a "what's wrong with her?" way. Now, however, no one cares about me, even in that superficial she-looks-funny point of view. So it goes...same same makes me feel different.

I checked into the internship program a few days ago. I am in a sea of Americans (not like I wasn't in Hong Kong...). But they feel American. Though what does that mean, really? All I can say is that during orientation I saw a sea of fake Los Angeles highlights and was like, oh...

Another thing that hits hard is that costs are exhorbant. Too bad eating lots of good food is often the highlight of my travels because food has been subpar. Even the dirty, sketchily cheap foods that I've had within Asia have been better and fresher than this. I don't waste. Yet, I've had to here even though it costs me my left arm to buy food. That's got to say something. Hao chan...(poor Crystal)

Currency Conversion and Examples of my Pain:
1£=$2=15RMB/HKD ; 1,000HKD=£61

One night dorm at a hostel (£20) could buy me almost two week's stay in Kunming (25 RMB).

What I can get with a bottle of water in London (0.80 £) could get me 16 in China (0.80 RMB). (However...I will beat the system as I now refill my Evian bottle with tap which isn't diharrea-causing.)

1 plate of Pad Thai here (£6) could get me 18 in Bangkok (20 Baht).

1 umbrella here (£13) could buy me 20 on Mongkok (10HKD)...though maybe they'd actually work.

However, don't cry for me. I love a good challenge. I have confidence that I can go cheap cheap anywhere. I've been buying Reduced for Quick Sale! items and have gone semi-vegetarian. And some items are actually cheaper i.e. museli and dairy...mmm!

I had to take double trips up the stairs...good thing thing they didn't fine me for leaving bags unattended...


















But the Brits have been nice...not in a I-want-to-take-your-money-way that I'm used to. I have quite a few stories of that... (to come, be sure). I was in the Tube (train station) with my huge 30kg luggage bag among other things pulling it down stairs with a furrow on my brow. And people actually asked if I needed help! That never happens in Asia...for someone you're not connected to to want to help you to help you without a thought about external rewards. Even if I told them that I was ok sometimes they'd be like, "No" and carry it up for me (and not run away!). Good thing I dumped a full luggage at the airport before this. I didn't realize how much 23kg was because the US is a weird country and doesn't teach standard measurement to its citizens. (fyi for fellow ignorami it's 50lbs. Anyhoo, I was 25kg over which would have cost me 6,250HKD (aka $820...waaaah!) so you could see me dumping clothes, rice, an alarm clock...everything out into the airport trash can. I felt like a little hobo... But anyhoo here are a few pics of what I've seen in London. I've been sleeping in and trying to get better every time it rains but I'm still coughing up a lung.

Statue of Prince Albert, Hyde Park


















Some parts of London remind me of HK...even more so than HK sometimes. (Go wyked wellies!)


















Camden!


















Wanchai but dirtier?


















London can be so beautiful...

Goi Gin to HK

So I leave Honkey Town tonight.

Yesterday I cried a little in the MTR. I was travelling by myself to pick up a suit and when I'm alone I always start to think.

As I was walking around Shatin doing normal things I had to keep catching myself from commenting/sharing inside jokes and memories because there weren't people to share them with. I kept thinking about events that happened or was reminded about...but couldn't say anything. I just had to think about things in a sea of same-same...but different.

The comments/jokes/reflections that were meant to be said will never be. It's painful getting cut off and knowing that you'll be cut off from people that you've been around/saw/talked about/talked with/communicated with so much. All the little things that you'd continue to share cannot be shared, and even if done so later would not
seem as significant nor shared completely. I was alone in my thoughts with memories of shared experiences. I missed what was...both inHK and being home home in both Cali and Hawaii with friends and family.

Hong Kong has changed since I came back from my travels. So many people have left and with them they took away so much of what I experienced as "Hong Kong". I don't just bump into exchange students wherever I am anymore. I miss that incessant connection to home that hits when you least expect it. And I still have good friends here. Yet I still miss everyone; even the people who I'm still cherishingHK with. It scares me how I'll do in London without any friends and family, really. I have to remember that easy will not stimulate
growth. I'm going to love London (hopefully) but starting all over...sigh.

I was looking through my papers so that I could pack. I found the packet of CU orientation materials and it was kind of hard to look at. It reminded me of getting here: the frenzy of friend-making, real communication before phones, exploring, feeling like I was in the Amazing Race. In retrospect, my experience was an amazing race. We packed in a lot of sites, adventures, and experiences but it went by so quickly.

Some unexpressed memories that I had while walking around HK. Too bad what was meant to be heard will not be. Too bad these are just less than adequate:

"I give you happy discount," digestive biscuits, walking left game, wishful nightie parading, 10,000 Buddha reminiscence, Shenzen pulling/touching/"Missy, missy!"/feeling bad for white people/not being able to find where the fake DVDS are, the disgustingness of Chinese nhaaaawk, whole wheat bakery goodness, i-house warnings, cheap dan tat, "no, la!", order-out Chinese pizza, "Hello missy. Ok," opposing taste in clothes, Candarin, Wanchai sketchiness, Ugly, Chinese mullets and haircutting experiences, monkey mountain and not being dumb, my dirty wallet, Drop, 24 jam,doot doot doot doot doot.

So I heard this song in the Shenzhen Wal-mart and it felt fitting. I never noticed the lyrics before because this song was actually the butt of a joke. But it hit home on how I'll miss all the good people that are/will be far from me in distance though not by heart. Cliche...don't judge. But it's true!

I'm a big big girl
In a big big world
It's not a big big thing if you leave me
But I do do feel that
I do do will miss you much
Miss you much...

I can see the first leaf falling
It's all yellow and nice
It's so very cold outside
Like the way I'm feeling inside

I'm a big big girl
In a big big world
It's not a big big thing if you leave me
But I do feel I will miss you much
Miss you much...

Miss you much! But don't cry for me...I'm a big girl now. However, do expect the ever-elusive update posts. They'll have pics unlike this boring post.

I wasn't planning on writing this post but I felt that I had to reflect before I left even though packing is realistically more essential during this period.

Thailand

So...sorry for you die-hard DJTHK fans (ok that's only mom and dad...when I tell them that there's an update.) for neglection of posts. But yeah... I have been meaning to update, as I've been meaning to (however unsuccessful) schedule other enriching activities and experiences into my life. This post is dedicated to my first week and a half experience outside of China (and its subsidiaries) and the U.S. when I was in Thailand. I endeavered to Bangkok about a month ago for a mini-backpacker's experience. Depressingly late, huh?

Ok, this post is in major draft form as I do not have the chance to polish it now. I intend to by May the 23rd. Plain pics, only in Bangkok. A more selective choice of pics, pensive commentary of my experience, and pictures from outside of Bangkok hopefully in due time. I am currently in Beijing trying to type softly as my friends are sleeping. We have to wake up early to wander the streets to absorb Beijing essense and see its unique people. I hate half-assing things but I needed to start this post since it'd be hard to upload pics later as I have to pay for internet and am backpacking cheap cheap. Next stop: Chengdu. Enjoy this current crap.











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