Keane
Hopes & Fears
Vocals: Tom Chaplin
Piano: Tim Rice-Oxley
Drums: Richard Hughes
It's Tuesdsay evening and I am at the Guvernment amidst a very eclectic all ages crowd. We are all waiting with anticipation for Keane to come on stage to perform from their album Hopes & Fears. I have come to the concert with one of my friends, whose birthday also happens to fall on this eve. We peruse the crowd and feel a bit old, but try to brush that to the back of our minds as a really cute 20 something comes by and stands in front of us.
The opening act French Kicks from NYC was good, though his voice was a little off.
After being asked for identification and almost refused entry to the bar, we walk around and have a few beers. Though I was flattered someone thought I was 13 years younger than my age, I was more annoyed about not getting some much needed liquid to quench my thirst. Around 10pm Keane came on and began to sing. The show was really very good and lead singer Tom Chaplin's voice was absolutely incredible. What is so unique about this U.K band is that they only have 3 permanent band members and no guitar player, using a mix of drums and keyboard and vocals to create their sound, which I liken to an 80's Radiohead/Coldplay. The show was great and I definitely see their appeal to all ages.
In Brief:
* Keane are from Battle in East Sussex.
* Drummer Richard first met Keyboard player Tim at about the age of 11.
* They rehearse and record in a little old room in Tim's parents' house in Battle.
* Their single Everybody's Changing was not their first release - they previously released a single in February 2000 and June 2001 on their own Zoomorphic label.
* They have just been named the most promising act on the music scene in a recent BBC online survey.
Check out the Keane interview.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Friday, September 17, 2004
Bullion
I recently came across a blog about a homeless guy and his experiences on the street, and it reminded me of something I wrote earlier this year, which I never published, for reasons of my own. Here it is.
--------------------
Sunday morning
I'm tired but still tweaked from an over-indulgent night of dancing and partying. I have since decided to prolong this with a couple of other friends, so have gone to an After-hours club, where we have been lounging and chatting. I peer into the dark corners of the club, but my eyes can't seem to penetrate the smokey haze. The throbbing of the overhead strobe lights pierce the thick air, making the whole experience even that more surreal. The music is deep and hard and the heavy bass vibrates us and increases the sensations and we are quite content.
I go down to the washroom to rinse my face. The cool water feels refreshing and rinses away the remnants of any fogginess. The bathroom is lit quite well, and appears to be empty except for the ever present bass. I turn to grab some towels to wipe off and I hear what sounds like a sobbing coming from the stalls. I turn to listen and the sobbing gets louder. I am unsure what to do, but decide to knock and ask if he or she is ok. The door opens and I see a skinny guy with tattoos on his arms and neck. His eyes are red and tears stream down his face. He looks oddly familiar but I can't place him. He looks at me and asks if I have a smoke, but I don't. He looks at me again, eyes squinting, thinking. They open wide for a second, then he says an almost inaudible "Alex?"
I look at him again and clarity begins to take hold. I take a step back and am shocked. The familiarity seems to be coming back, but he is nothing but a shell of what I remember. His gaunt face, skinny body and disshevelled appearance are almost unrecognizable. Che (as in Guevara) and I knew each other close to 8 years ago, when I used to see him in the clubs or on Church street. He was a nice, handsome kid, very friendly who hung out with the circuit crowd, despite being straight.
Che and I chat and I soon find out that he got involved into heavy drugs years ago, and spiralled downwards into addiction, theft, and then jail. He tells me he has been out of jail for a few months, but was just kicked out of his home with just the clothes and knapsack on his back. He looks desperate and asks if I can lend him money for food. He definitely looks like he needs it, so we walk out to the Burger King and I get him a few burgers which he wolfs down. We continue talking about his life and what his life has been like, living on the streets, selling crack and dope. I am perturbed. I am not accustomed to hearing stories like this, and can not possibly understand his situation. I am out of my element and my comfort zone, but I stay and listen, drawn into his stories like a child.
The sun has been up for sometime now, and I am getting tired and tell him I need to leave, but he begs me to stay and keep him company. He has no where to go, no where to sleep and it is -20 celsius outside. He also says he has no one to talk to. My heart breaks a little, and I am reminded of who he was, and what is now sitting before me. I can see that his tough street-wise exterior is just a facade for something lost. We chat for another hour and now he is beginning to nod off. Despite protests from my inner-voice, I tell him he can wash up and sleep on my couch for the day. He smiles and hugs me, saying that I won't be sorry. I am not sure what to think, but know that I can't leave him here in the cold.
We get to my place and he showers and asks if he can use my phone. He pulls out a little black book and points to a picture and says "thats my dad, and this is my mum". He says it matter-of-factly, but I can almost feel the memories racing through his head. He asks if he can call them as he has not spoken to them in a long time. He begins to dial, stops, then hangs up. He looks down at the floor, head in hands, then at me again with apprehension and frustration in his eyes. He passes me the phone and asks if I can dial for him and ask for his mom. I call and speak with her for a short bit, saying that I am an old friend and that he is ok. She is crying when I hand the phone to him. Che speaks quietly with her, hangs up and makes a note in his book. I ask what he is doing and he says that he is writing something down that his mother had said. I don't push any further.
Che calls his father next and they chat for an hour or so. He ends the conversation with "I love you dad." I really don't know what to say or do. We both just sit quietly as he deals with his demons.
Against my better judgement I allow him to stay the evening. He has washed his clothes and says he feels much better. He thanks me and asks if we can keep in touch and if he can stay a few more nights. I tell Che, that it is not appropriate and that I have work and other obligations to take care of. I see dissappointment in his face, almost as though he were used to being cast aside. I give him some old clothes to wear and give him my number and say that I will be happy to let him shower and eat here, but he cannot stay. He thanks me for the offer.
----------------
A week passes.
During this time, he calls me and he comes over to shower, eat and use my computer. We chat about his life and goals and what he needs to do, to get back on his feet. I assist him with his welfare and Parole officer appointments, and tell him he needs to put his money to proper use. He is grateful, but I am getting worried that he will become dependent on my help.
-----------------
Week 2
It is several days later when I hear from him, and he asks if he can come over for food and rest. When he arrives, I can tell something else is up. He is even more haggard than before. We chat for a bit and he falls asleep while eating. I try waking him, but he won't wake, so I leave him there to rest, keeping a watchful eye. He looks like a kid, but the conversations and shit he has dealt with have made him street tough. It is only in these quiet vulnerable moments that he seems to let his guard down.
At some point in the evening I too fall asleep and when I wake, I find he is gone and has taken a number of things of mine. I take stock of the situation and feel anger and dissapointment well up, not because he did this, but because I already knew that this would happen, and I believed that somehow I might have gotten through to him. I feel like I should kick myself for having done what I did, but realise that it is past, and recipicent thoughts are not in my nature.
I don't know where he has gone, what has happened to him or if I will ever see him again. I imagine that he will never get away from his addictions, from the world of crime or the streets. His life was surrounded by darkness, distrust and despair, and I thought that for a moment I might have been able to reach out to him and bring him out of it. He was a hard core punk fan, and it seemed his only comfort and identity was his music. He lived his life reckless and "free" like the music he listened too, never realising that he was actually a prisoner of his own circumstances and of his own doing. He told me about his world and how he identified with his music and I got a sense of how he felt. He said his dream was to go back to California, where he would open a garage to fix cars, but reality is a bitch, and the fact is that he is or will be just another sad statistic.
--------------------
Sunday morning
I'm tired but still tweaked from an over-indulgent night of dancing and partying. I have since decided to prolong this with a couple of other friends, so have gone to an After-hours club, where we have been lounging and chatting. I peer into the dark corners of the club, but my eyes can't seem to penetrate the smokey haze. The throbbing of the overhead strobe lights pierce the thick air, making the whole experience even that more surreal. The music is deep and hard and the heavy bass vibrates us and increases the sensations and we are quite content.
I go down to the washroom to rinse my face. The cool water feels refreshing and rinses away the remnants of any fogginess. The bathroom is lit quite well, and appears to be empty except for the ever present bass. I turn to grab some towels to wipe off and I hear what sounds like a sobbing coming from the stalls. I turn to listen and the sobbing gets louder. I am unsure what to do, but decide to knock and ask if he or she is ok. The door opens and I see a skinny guy with tattoos on his arms and neck. His eyes are red and tears stream down his face. He looks oddly familiar but I can't place him. He looks at me and asks if I have a smoke, but I don't. He looks at me again, eyes squinting, thinking. They open wide for a second, then he says an almost inaudible "Alex?"
I look at him again and clarity begins to take hold. I take a step back and am shocked. The familiarity seems to be coming back, but he is nothing but a shell of what I remember. His gaunt face, skinny body and disshevelled appearance are almost unrecognizable. Che (as in Guevara) and I knew each other close to 8 years ago, when I used to see him in the clubs or on Church street. He was a nice, handsome kid, very friendly who hung out with the circuit crowd, despite being straight.
Che and I chat and I soon find out that he got involved into heavy drugs years ago, and spiralled downwards into addiction, theft, and then jail. He tells me he has been out of jail for a few months, but was just kicked out of his home with just the clothes and knapsack on his back. He looks desperate and asks if I can lend him money for food. He definitely looks like he needs it, so we walk out to the Burger King and I get him a few burgers which he wolfs down. We continue talking about his life and what his life has been like, living on the streets, selling crack and dope. I am perturbed. I am not accustomed to hearing stories like this, and can not possibly understand his situation. I am out of my element and my comfort zone, but I stay and listen, drawn into his stories like a child.
The sun has been up for sometime now, and I am getting tired and tell him I need to leave, but he begs me to stay and keep him company. He has no where to go, no where to sleep and it is -20 celsius outside. He also says he has no one to talk to. My heart breaks a little, and I am reminded of who he was, and what is now sitting before me. I can see that his tough street-wise exterior is just a facade for something lost. We chat for another hour and now he is beginning to nod off. Despite protests from my inner-voice, I tell him he can wash up and sleep on my couch for the day. He smiles and hugs me, saying that I won't be sorry. I am not sure what to think, but know that I can't leave him here in the cold.
We get to my place and he showers and asks if he can use my phone. He pulls out a little black book and points to a picture and says "thats my dad, and this is my mum". He says it matter-of-factly, but I can almost feel the memories racing through his head. He asks if he can call them as he has not spoken to them in a long time. He begins to dial, stops, then hangs up. He looks down at the floor, head in hands, then at me again with apprehension and frustration in his eyes. He passes me the phone and asks if I can dial for him and ask for his mom. I call and speak with her for a short bit, saying that I am an old friend and that he is ok. She is crying when I hand the phone to him. Che speaks quietly with her, hangs up and makes a note in his book. I ask what he is doing and he says that he is writing something down that his mother had said. I don't push any further.
Che calls his father next and they chat for an hour or so. He ends the conversation with "I love you dad." I really don't know what to say or do. We both just sit quietly as he deals with his demons.
Against my better judgement I allow him to stay the evening. He has washed his clothes and says he feels much better. He thanks me and asks if we can keep in touch and if he can stay a few more nights. I tell Che, that it is not appropriate and that I have work and other obligations to take care of. I see dissappointment in his face, almost as though he were used to being cast aside. I give him some old clothes to wear and give him my number and say that I will be happy to let him shower and eat here, but he cannot stay. He thanks me for the offer.
----------------
A week passes.
During this time, he calls me and he comes over to shower, eat and use my computer. We chat about his life and goals and what he needs to do, to get back on his feet. I assist him with his welfare and Parole officer appointments, and tell him he needs to put his money to proper use. He is grateful, but I am getting worried that he will become dependent on my help.
-----------------
Week 2
It is several days later when I hear from him, and he asks if he can come over for food and rest. When he arrives, I can tell something else is up. He is even more haggard than before. We chat for a bit and he falls asleep while eating. I try waking him, but he won't wake, so I leave him there to rest, keeping a watchful eye. He looks like a kid, but the conversations and shit he has dealt with have made him street tough. It is only in these quiet vulnerable moments that he seems to let his guard down.
At some point in the evening I too fall asleep and when I wake, I find he is gone and has taken a number of things of mine. I take stock of the situation and feel anger and dissapointment well up, not because he did this, but because I already knew that this would happen, and I believed that somehow I might have gotten through to him. I feel like I should kick myself for having done what I did, but realise that it is past, and recipicent thoughts are not in my nature.
I don't know where he has gone, what has happened to him or if I will ever see him again. I imagine that he will never get away from his addictions, from the world of crime or the streets. His life was surrounded by darkness, distrust and despair, and I thought that for a moment I might have been able to reach out to him and bring him out of it. He was a hard core punk fan, and it seemed his only comfort and identity was his music. He lived his life reckless and "free" like the music he listened too, never realising that he was actually a prisoner of his own circumstances and of his own doing. He told me about his world and how he identified with his music and I got a sense of how he felt. He said his dream was to go back to California, where he would open a garage to fix cars, but reality is a bitch, and the fact is that he is or will be just another sad statistic.
Bullion
Twenty one, feeling down
I tell you nothing with a thousand words
and I get weaker, with every step
I waste my money on compact disc's and stale fish
I can't remember the last time I did something that made
me feel alright longer than a few hours
if I only had the strength to make some muffins then I
swear that I would share them with you now.
Am I odd or am I not?
That's a question I spend time analysing
I'm so soft, but still I'm not
living up to what people want me to be
cause I'm busy with me, myself and I
can't be understood by someone I don't know to well
so I'm shutting out the whole world just to play Nintendo
I've got these new games but I'm afraid you can't join me.
...These last few years I've been strugglin
and I'm tired of keeping low profile
so now it's time to show that I'm alive...
I'm gonna change my life, plans, Vans start to dance
change my thoughts, sox, moves, even my pro fighter Q.
This apparently was his favourite song. It speaks for itself.
I wish him luck and hope he finds peace.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Grandpapa Part deux
With fear in his eyes, my father has told us that our dear old grandfather has picked up and left China, buying a one way plane ticket to New York City on September 09. This all taking place after my Uncle in Taiwan got so fed up with my grandfather calling and screaming at him, that he gave all my grandfathers money back to him (as he was managing his accounts). Those of you who have just tuned in, this is Part deux of an ongoing saga, previously written about here. Apparently, the old man has been getting more and more belligerent with his live-in maids and helpers and has been throwing things at them. My father has told him not to come here, as we do not have the time or means to care for him, and my Aunt is scared to death since she is the one living in NYC.
When I visited him in China, I could see that his feisty temper and disposition had not changed. The only difference was that he was older and more frail. His mind worked in circuitous rhythms, and he would stare into us with his blurry eyes, seemingly knowing all our thoughts and secrets. We told him we were in China for only a few more days and had to leave, but we knew he could see through it. It was like trying to trick a child to eat breaded liver, when they could easily see that it was simply breaded to disguise it. I imagined what it would be like to reach the ripe age of 95 and vowed that if I ever got to 70 I would be happy. The pain and burden is something I would not wish upon any friend or family member to bear.
The last I heard, he had arrived at my Aunts' door, where he slept for 2 days straight. When he got up, he started screaming and kvetching about the family and now is planning on staying at his Mennonite friends place in Rochester. Apparently, Mr. Mennonite said grandpapa was welcome, but now Mrs. Mennonite is not happy about it and won't have anything to do with it. How can I blame them? I lived with him for 10 years and he never treated me like a grandson, more of a servant and task doer. Anyhow, I have no idea where the saga will end, but I will certainly keep you all in the loop.
When I visited him in China, I could see that his feisty temper and disposition had not changed. The only difference was that he was older and more frail. His mind worked in circuitous rhythms, and he would stare into us with his blurry eyes, seemingly knowing all our thoughts and secrets. We told him we were in China for only a few more days and had to leave, but we knew he could see through it. It was like trying to trick a child to eat breaded liver, when they could easily see that it was simply breaded to disguise it. I imagined what it would be like to reach the ripe age of 95 and vowed that if I ever got to 70 I would be happy. The pain and burden is something I would not wish upon any friend or family member to bear.
The last I heard, he had arrived at my Aunts' door, where he slept for 2 days straight. When he got up, he started screaming and kvetching about the family and now is planning on staying at his Mennonite friends place in Rochester. Apparently, Mr. Mennonite said grandpapa was welcome, but now Mrs. Mennonite is not happy about it and won't have anything to do with it. How can I blame them? I lived with him for 10 years and he never treated me like a grandson, more of a servant and task doer. Anyhow, I have no idea where the saga will end, but I will certainly keep you all in the loop.
Thursday, August 26, 2004
Life Lessons and My Philosophy
I would like to believe that I am a fairly friendly, decent individual, who most people will find easy to talk to. I tend to be one of those guys that will smile when spoken or smiled to, and some have said that I am quite extroverted and gregarious. I see nothing wrong with a smile or courteous nod. So, it is not surprising to me nowadays when someone will smile or nod at me when walking down the street. However, yesterday as I returned home from the Barber shop, a man stopped in his tracks staring at me blankly . I looked at him and kindly nodded, at which point he said "Hong Kong?". I walked by at which point he said it again. I turned around and this is how the conversation went;
Me: "Excuse me?"
Guy (In an exagerrated slow voice): "Hooooooonnnngggg Kooooooooonnnngg?"
Me (slightly dumbfounded): "Ummm, what?"
Guy: "Arrrree yooou froooommmm Hoooooooonnngg Kooooonnnng?"
Me: "No. I am not from Hong Kong. And why are you speaking like that?"
Guy: "Oh, your not from Hong Kong? You look like it?"
Me: "Oh really? And what does a Hong Kong person look like?"
Guy: "Just like you!"
Me: "I see. Well, first off that was an extremely rude comment to make. You don't just walk up to someone and say 'Hong Kong'. It was rude and presumptuous."
Guy: (now offended): "How was that rude? I have been to Hong Kong many times and that is what you people look like!"
Me: "Listen dude. I don't know where you think you can talk to a person like that, but you shouldn't assume that I am from a particular place based on my skin. Why do you assume I am not Canadian?"
Guy: "Well, I will be sure never to speak to you again! You should know, that I have been to Hong Kong many times and you are exactly how they look!"
Me: "I am only telling you that you were rude and that you ought to learn a few things about assumptions. Goodbye and good luck!"
I left somewhat upset, but content that I had said what needed to be said. Whether he chose to learn from it or not, was now in his court.
I have dealt with plenty of ignorant and racist comments throughout my life, yet each time I am confronted with them (no matter how humourous they may be), I am still slightly shocked. I have always made a conscious effort to educate and learn from the experience, but even that can get tiresome. I do not want to be an educator to those who do not wish to learn. My experience as a Race and Ethnicity (discrimination) counsellor and as a peer counsellor for gays and lesbians has provided me a unique insight about many peoples' experiences, and what it is like for them based on their ethnic, cultural and socio-economic backgrounds. As hard as it is to believe, I am not perfect and clearly realise that I can be as hypocritical and prejudicial in my own thoughts. However, I believe that there is a marked difference between those who are ignorant, who do not have a formed opinion and those who are ignorant and do have a formed opinion. The latter can be racist and hateful, the prior is not. Let me try to explain.
In our current age, the idea of multi-culturalism is almost a day-to-day word that apparently defines our society as "including people who have many different customs and beliefs". Note, that this does not mean acceptance, nor does it mean tolerance. That kind of understanding and knowledge are things we actively learn or seek, based on our need to understand the world around us. An individual who is willing to learn and who does not form an opinion about things, is likely to learn from their experiences. They are the types of people who will re-evaluate and think about their opinions and the nature in which they structure their beliefs. I have had many a conversation where someone will make comments such as "Chinese people are bad drivers" or ask if "All Chinese people are Buddhists and Communists?" I do not necessarily think they are racist, but do believe that they are accountable for the words that they have said. If what they say offends me, then it is my right to say so. I am of the belief that education does not equal intelligence, and intelligence doesn't necessarily foster tolerance or acceptance. Additionally, the idea of multiculturalism does not equal tolerance.
I discussed the incident with a friend of mine almost right after it had happened. He was very sympathetic, but duly pointed out that I too in this blog have appeared somewhat 'intolerant' - having imitated accents or made irreverent comments about the homeless. I of course, have never been reverent about much, but those who know me understand that this blog site is a mixture of humour, sarcasm and a willingness to share my experience as an Asian-gay-Canadian male, and what it is like for me on a daily basis to live in the skin that I am in. It is my experience and voice that leads me to my own discoveries about who I am and what I share with other people. It is not the voice of others and is not representative of anyone else but me. Unlike the man on the street, if someone were to point something out to me that offended them, I could enter a discussion about it. I do not believe in rigidity and stubborness. Only a fool would believe that they have the only answer - and is a sign of extreme vanity. Knowledge is something that you gain by challenging it. I leave with you all a few Confucious quotes from the Analects that may help explain my philosophy.
Cheers!
A gentleman can see a question from all sides without bias. The small man is biased and can see a question only from one side. - Confucius, Analects, c.400 b.c.
Real knowledge is to know the extent of ones ignorance. - Confucius, Analects, c. 400 b.c.
Without knowing the force of words, it is impossible to know men. - Confucius, Analects, c.400 b.c
If one learns but does not think, one will be bewildered. If one thinks but does not learn from others, one will be imperiled. - Confucius, Analects, c.400 b.c.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Amazing Race Observations
Dear god. I am finally admitting that I am an Amazing Race Junkie. For those of you who do not follow Reality Television, it is a Reality show that follows 12 Teams in groups of 2 around the world. I have been watching for quite some time now, and find the show an excellent portrayal of how not to act when travelling. I have come to a number of conclusions about this show, but more particularly its' contestants;
1. Americans can be particularly stupid;
a) Sphinx is not pronounced "spinks". "ph" is said as an "f". Can you say "Anal Sphincter"?
b) Dubai is pronounced "Do Buy" not "Do Bay"
I have no idea where these sheltered people grew up, but they need to learn a bit more about world cultures. Which brings me to point number...
2. You cannot bring your personal idealogies, belief systems and Religious views to another country and expect them to be the same way. It galls me, that so many people fail to realise that they are the guest within another Host country, and as a sign of respect, you should bow to their ways so long as they don't completely compromise yours.
3. I have no idea why gay men always complain that gay relationships never last. My opinion is that we get out of them when they no longer work. Unfortnately, too many straight people stay in abusive relationships because they choose to settle. Then they get married and have kids, which all seem to be futile acts to keep a dysfunctional relationship together. I have watched many married or partnered Teams fall apart because they have little respect for one another (i.e. Collin and Christe) I know this is a slight generalisation, but look forward to another blog about this.
4. If someone can't speak English, shouting and saying it more slowly while gesticulating wildly, most likely will not help. Try speaking more calmly and smile. They will be more recepetive.
5. Treat others as you wish to be treated. That which you give, always comes back two-fold. It is karmic to a degree. If someone sees you being an ass, do you really think that person will be nice to you?
Anyhow, this has been my enlightening observation for the day. Feel free to comment or lambast me.
1. Americans can be particularly stupid;
a) Sphinx is not pronounced "spinks". "ph" is said as an "f". Can you say "Anal Sphincter"?
b) Dubai is pronounced "Do Buy" not "Do Bay"
I have no idea where these sheltered people grew up, but they need to learn a bit more about world cultures. Which brings me to point number...
2. You cannot bring your personal idealogies, belief systems and Religious views to another country and expect them to be the same way. It galls me, that so many people fail to realise that they are the guest within another Host country, and as a sign of respect, you should bow to their ways so long as they don't completely compromise yours.
3. I have no idea why gay men always complain that gay relationships never last. My opinion is that we get out of them when they no longer work. Unfortnately, too many straight people stay in abusive relationships because they choose to settle. Then they get married and have kids, which all seem to be futile acts to keep a dysfunctional relationship together. I have watched many married or partnered Teams fall apart because they have little respect for one another (i.e. Collin and Christe) I know this is a slight generalisation, but look forward to another blog about this.
4. If someone can't speak English, shouting and saying it more slowly while gesticulating wildly, most likely will not help. Try speaking more calmly and smile. They will be more recepetive.
5. Treat others as you wish to be treated. That which you give, always comes back two-fold. It is karmic to a degree. If someone sees you being an ass, do you really think that person will be nice to you?
Anyhow, this has been my enlightening observation for the day. Feel free to comment or lambast me.
Monday, August 23, 2004
Giberto vs Alien?
So after turning down the option to go see Bebel Giberto at the Carlu (which I am sure would have been a fantastic evening) I decided to join a Couple-friend of mine to see Alien vs Predator at the Docks. This is definitely not my genre of film, but I decided that a night out by the lake at a drive-in theatre would be fun.
We drove down to the out door theatre (by day it is a golfing range) where 39 bucks was spent for 3 of us, for a double feature (including Bourne Supremacy). We grabbed our hamburgers, popcorn and munchies and set ourselves up for the viewing. Little did we know that every couple in every car within the lot was a straight couple, all of whom sat with seat full-down (not quite conducive to viewing). I soon realised how odd it looked with 3 fags at a Drive-in Theatre. The movie aside from being horrible was completely unviewable due to the lights coming from all the lights at the Docks and from the city. We spent most of our time jostling and trying to get comfortable, whilst trying to determine if it was in fact "a predator or Alien" at that time. To add to the melee of horror on screen, our car smelled like poutine and gravy, since my friend knocked over his food onto the front seat.
So, if you ever get an invite to see a classy performance by a renowned singer at a renowned theatre, please choose that over the White Trash movie at a White trash theatre.
We drove down to the out door theatre (by day it is a golfing range) where 39 bucks was spent for 3 of us, for a double feature (including Bourne Supremacy). We grabbed our hamburgers, popcorn and munchies and set ourselves up for the viewing. Little did we know that every couple in every car within the lot was a straight couple, all of whom sat with seat full-down (not quite conducive to viewing). I soon realised how odd it looked with 3 fags at a Drive-in Theatre. The movie aside from being horrible was completely unviewable due to the lights coming from all the lights at the Docks and from the city. We spent most of our time jostling and trying to get comfortable, whilst trying to determine if it was in fact "a predator or Alien" at that time. To add to the melee of horror on screen, our car smelled like poutine and gravy, since my friend knocked over his food onto the front seat.
So, if you ever get an invite to see a classy performance by a renowned singer at a renowned theatre, please choose that over the White Trash movie at a White trash theatre.
Monday, August 16, 2004
Shameless Plug
I wanted to say many things to you all today, but all I really wanted to do was shamelessly beg you all to sign me up for Debbie Travis' Facelift show on HGTV. I swear upon my grave that you will be my bestest friend if I ever get it. My place is in dire need of a once over, and once I have a new kitchen and fabulous entertainment Pad, I will have you over for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres....Promise!
Oh, and if they ask why, come up with something creative and witty, sort of like me.
Thursday, August 12, 2004
So after some 2 weeks of procrastination, I finally decided to complete my bloodwork that my doctor had asked me to do. Not being particularly fond of being poked (by needles), I had held off as long as I could, until my Doc's assistant called to ask why I was taking so long. Besides, the damned requisition forms have been sitting in my knapsack the entire time and for some reason when I pulled them out, they had the ever slight aroma of burnt chicken wings and rotten oranges. Go figure.
Anyhow, I got up early this morning half groggy and still slightly dishevelled, and walked to the lab. The lab technician was this petite Filipina lady, with a very Filipino accent, and by the look on the her face, she didn't seem too pleased by the smell emanating from the forms.
She had me sit and then said to me,
"You must bill out deese bields on dee baper broperly, then sit behind curtain num-ber bour."
I nodded and proceeded to sit as told. She then said,
"We do not want you to baint. Did you eat breakbest or did you bast?"
I nodded and said I had not eaten this morning, but was perfectly fine to proceed. I began to question if I should have procrastinated longer, when she pulled out her alcohol pad, and smile at the site of my veins.
"Ohh, deese beins are so big. I will need to take bive biles of blood bor your doctor. Dis will be bery easy bor me."
"Great" I thought, "I have some crazy ass woman whom I can barely understand, who gets her ya-ya's from poking big veins". This all before I even had a coffee to jolt me into reality.
Anyhow, I'm glad I brought a smile to her twisted day. Meanwhile I am nursing my brusied vein.
Anyhow, I got up early this morning half groggy and still slightly dishevelled, and walked to the lab. The lab technician was this petite Filipina lady, with a very Filipino accent, and by the look on the her face, she didn't seem too pleased by the smell emanating from the forms.
She had me sit and then said to me,
"You must bill out deese bields on dee baper broperly, then sit behind curtain num-ber bour."
I nodded and proceeded to sit as told. She then said,
"We do not want you to baint. Did you eat breakbest or did you bast?"
I nodded and said I had not eaten this morning, but was perfectly fine to proceed. I began to question if I should have procrastinated longer, when she pulled out her alcohol pad, and smile at the site of my veins.
"Ohh, deese beins are so big. I will need to take bive biles of blood bor your doctor. Dis will be bery easy bor me."
"Great" I thought, "I have some crazy ass woman whom I can barely understand, who gets her ya-ya's from poking big veins". This all before I even had a coffee to jolt me into reality.
Anyhow, I'm glad I brought a smile to her twisted day. Meanwhile I am nursing my brusied vein.
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
Homo Hobo Hug
A few afternoons ago, I decided to go carousing with some friends, as it was a beautiful sunny day. We were walking down Church street when this kid sitting outside of the Xtra Office asked me for change. As usual, I said no, but the kid pressed on and with a grin asked "How about a hug?"
Without waiting a beat, he grabbed me, copped a feel and lifted me in the air in a bear hug. Now, I usually don't let strangers pick me up (well, some will argue that) let alone street kids, but I was in complete shock. I suppose the 5 or 6 beers I had earlier didn't help with my quick motor skills, but I did try in vain to get the kid to drop me. He kept squeezing me until I told him he was cutting off circulation.
I felt completely embarrassed, and dirty (not in the good way either) and immediately went home to burn my clothes and de-louse my body.
What is even more pathetic is that everyone who was watching, now believes that I have a Homo Hobo boyfriend....That's just GREAT!
Without waiting a beat, he grabbed me, copped a feel and lifted me in the air in a bear hug. Now, I usually don't let strangers pick me up (well, some will argue that) let alone street kids, but I was in complete shock. I suppose the 5 or 6 beers I had earlier didn't help with my quick motor skills, but I did try in vain to get the kid to drop me. He kept squeezing me until I told him he was cutting off circulation.
I felt completely embarrassed, and dirty (not in the good way either) and immediately went home to burn my clothes and de-louse my body.
What is even more pathetic is that everyone who was watching, now believes that I have a Homo Hobo boyfriend....That's just GREAT!
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
A good friend of mine decided it was time for me to change my appearance. He says I need a good dose of "Queer eye for the Queer guy", so I assume he is telling me that I don't have any taste or fashion sense. Apparently I don't have any taste in friends either. Anyhow, I decided that the best thing to do, was heed his advice and shear my beautiful locks off. I did this last Friday, and can't quite figure it out as yet. I feel very different, edgier maybe, but think it comes off as G.I Jane meets starving Cambodian monk.
There are definitely the good and the bad:
The Good
- easy to manage.
- wash and go.
- no one recognises me.
The Bad
- I have a whack of hair products, with no hair to use it on.
- no one recognises me.
Grandpapa
Mum just called me to talk about recent family events. It seems my 96 year old grandfather, who once lived with us in Toronto, but got bored and moved to China, is now bored with China and wants to move back to Toronto. My father will have nothing to do with it, and my senile and increasingly impatient grandfather is calling all 3 kids everyday. My Aunt in New York has resorted to not picking up the phone out of fear, and is now seeing a psychiatrist. My Uncle moved to Taiwan and hasn't told my grandfather where he has moved to. You have to understand my grandfather to understand why the family is avoiding him like the plague. He isn't the most pleasant man to deal with. He is impatient and very hot tempered...not exactly the image of a grandfather, or an evangelical reverend, which he once was. Anyhow, he has a short attention span and gets bored of things quickly. He has lived in nearly every state and pretty well drives everyone mad at some point. He has lived with us, then not lived with us, then lived with us, then not lived with us. I suppose I should be more empathetic towards him, but by all standards he is considered rich in China, and has 3+ people taking care of him (their whole family helps out) - he really is a full-time job. This past May/June, I went with my family to visit him, where we met the family and the woman who cooks for him. My grandfather is quite demanding and constantly screams and shouts that the food is horrible and that the woman is an imbecile. The mother ( the cook) is this sweet-kind-Buddhist-vegetarian woman, who wouldn't hurt a fly, but I've seen how she wants to take the Wok and knock the living daylights out of him.
Mum tells me dad is so confounded by what is happening that he feels like a lemming. Seems he is out of the home today to go get his Taiwan citizenship renewed along with my mothers. My father doesn't like Taiwan one bit, but says he would rather take 1 of the lesser evils - and flee back to Taiwan.
Mum tells me dad is so confounded by what is happening that he feels like a lemming. Seems he is out of the home today to go get his Taiwan citizenship renewed along with my mothers. My father doesn't like Taiwan one bit, but says he would rather take 1 of the lesser evils - and flee back to Taiwan.
Monday, August 9, 2004
The Worst Pick-up Line
Ever meet someone so completely ignorant, that you have no other option but to laugh? Some of my personal experiences are so embarrassing that I'd rather not re-live, but the stupidity of some people simply brings a smile to my face, and this is my tribute to them. Life really is far too short to ignore the opportunity of making fun of idiots. A number of years ago (over 10), I was hanging with some buddies at a downtown Toronto bar, when this guy came up to me to chat. The ensuing conversation went like this:
White Dude(talking really slowly): "Hiiiii, Myyyyy name is Miiichaelllll. What's yooour name?"
Me: "uh, Alex."
WD: "Hiii Al-Lex. Is that your real name? Your English is verrry good."
Me thinking: Your an imbecile. God, I knew I should have gotten another drink.
Me: "Gee, thanks. I try really hard at speaking English well. And yes, Alex is my real name."
WD: "Wow, You barely have an accent and you have such beautiful yellow skin."
Me: "Yellow skin? That's lovely, thanks.
WD: You're very welcome! So, don't you have a you-know, Oriental name?"
Me thinking: Why do you want to know? Even if I tell you, you'll bastardise it.
Me: "Yeah, it's xxxx-xxx."
He tries repeating it around 5 times like a kid picking up a new word. I just say "yeah, that's it! You got it!", just to shut him up.
WD: "What does it mean?"
Me: "It means, I'm not interested."
WD: "But you barely know me. I'm sure you will likey-likey." (he grins)
Me Thinking: Oh NO he Didn't just say that to me?
WD: So where are your from?"
Me: "Richmond Hill."
WD: "No, I mean, where are you really from? You're Oriental right?"
Me: "I'm from my mother. And just so you know, it's not Oriental. It's Chinese or Asian. Oriental is a refernece to the East, and is also a type of furniture. It's offensive. And I am sure you wouldn't want me calling you Occidental...maybe Accidental"
WD: "huh?"
Me: "Sorry Michael, but I have to go now. My master is waiting for me to pick him up in his rickshaw, and since my feet have been bound since I was 3, it takes me a while to get him home. Bye."
I'm always reminded of Margaret Cho and her One-woman show I'm The One That I Want
where she so eloquently discusses the humour and stupidity of some people when it comes to Race and ethnicity. http://www.margaretcho.com/movie_clips/movie_clips.htm
I guess I can't blame anyone, I mean, really, we all do look alike don't we?
White Dude(talking really slowly): "Hiiiii, Myyyyy name is Miiichaelllll. What's yooour name?"
Me: "uh, Alex."
WD: "Hiii Al-Lex. Is that your real name? Your English is verrry good."
Me thinking: Your an imbecile. God, I knew I should have gotten another drink.
Me: "Gee, thanks. I try really hard at speaking English well. And yes, Alex is my real name."
WD: "Wow, You barely have an accent and you have such beautiful yellow skin."
Me: "Yellow skin? That's lovely, thanks.
WD: You're very welcome! So, don't you have a you-know, Oriental name?"
Me thinking: Why do you want to know? Even if I tell you, you'll bastardise it.
Me: "Yeah, it's xxxx-xxx."
He tries repeating it around 5 times like a kid picking up a new word. I just say "yeah, that's it! You got it!", just to shut him up.
WD: "What does it mean?"
Me: "It means, I'm not interested."
WD: "But you barely know me. I'm sure you will likey-likey." (he grins)
Me Thinking: Oh NO he Didn't just say that to me?
WD: So where are your from?"
Me: "Richmond Hill."
WD: "No, I mean, where are you really from? You're Oriental right?"
Me: "I'm from my mother. And just so you know, it's not Oriental. It's Chinese or Asian. Oriental is a refernece to the East, and is also a type of furniture. It's offensive. And I am sure you wouldn't want me calling you Occidental...maybe Accidental"
WD: "huh?"
Me: "Sorry Michael, but I have to go now. My master is waiting for me to pick him up in his rickshaw, and since my feet have been bound since I was 3, it takes me a while to get him home. Bye."
I'm always reminded of Margaret Cho and her One-woman show I'm The One That I Want
where she so eloquently discusses the humour and stupidity of some people when it comes to Race and ethnicity. http://www.margaretcho.com/movie_clips/movie_clips.htm
I guess I can't blame anyone, I mean, really, we all do look alike don't we?
Chicken Soup for the Soul
There is a saying that tragedy comes in threes. If recent events are any indication of what is to come next, I am likely to get struck by lightning (twice).
My sad and pathetic state of affairs began with a seemingly innocuous pot of soup. Momma always told me to make my own stock, as it was healthier and always that much more tastier- chciken soup for the soul as they would say. So, there I was on a typical Saturday afternoon, doing my usual chores- cleaning, laundry and this time, simmering a pot of chicken soup. Those of you who know me, realise that I have this slight obsessive need to clean, but decided early on that I would not spend my whole day dressed in a French Maid outfit dusting, lest I be called ‘pathetic loser’ by my friends. By early evening I was ready to go, ran to the kitchen turned off my soup and ran out the door. Had a pleasant evening and went out to a club with some friends only to return to my condo, which could only be described as smelling like a Hamilton smelting factory. My dog ran to me, sketchier than usual and I read the 3 notes left by security, all the while trying to gain my senses and cover my nose. Apparently, in my haste to leave my flat, I had inadvertently turned the element to Maximum, instead of OFF. The pot and its contents over the next 6 hours boiled down to an acrid smelling, blackened mass. The flat stank, as did all of the contents, including my dog. Security had come by to investigate after the neighbours called it in – it seems the alarm did not go off in my unit.
Needless to say, my face was as ashen gray as the pot. My brain was still half baked and I was not looking forward to the clean-up. Luckily, there was no fire and no visible smoke damage, but the acrid smoke had gotten into everything and I spent the rest of the day scubbing and cleaning while mumbling to myself. The second tragedy didn’t take long to traipse my way. After loading the dishwasher, I went to re-do all the laundry, when I heard the familiar sound of water running and my dog whining. Turning the corner to my kitchen, I realised I was standing in a water logged carpet, water flowing from the dishwasher and cabinets. It seems god decided to flood my kitchen as well, to quell the fire that once burned. Too bad his timing sucks. I ran to the main water valve and shut it off – the washer had broken resulting in the flood.
That evening, while sitting in my stinky apartment, exahusted from cleaning I turned on the television, only to see news about floods in Peterborough and fires in B.C. Not sure what calamity will come next, but if your keen on following, then just turn on the news.
My sad and pathetic state of affairs began with a seemingly innocuous pot of soup. Momma always told me to make my own stock, as it was healthier and always that much more tastier- chciken soup for the soul as they would say. So, there I was on a typical Saturday afternoon, doing my usual chores- cleaning, laundry and this time, simmering a pot of chicken soup. Those of you who know me, realise that I have this slight obsessive need to clean, but decided early on that I would not spend my whole day dressed in a French Maid outfit dusting, lest I be called ‘pathetic loser’ by my friends. By early evening I was ready to go, ran to the kitchen turned off my soup and ran out the door. Had a pleasant evening and went out to a club with some friends only to return to my condo, which could only be described as smelling like a Hamilton smelting factory. My dog ran to me, sketchier than usual and I read the 3 notes left by security, all the while trying to gain my senses and cover my nose. Apparently, in my haste to leave my flat, I had inadvertently turned the element to Maximum, instead of OFF. The pot and its contents over the next 6 hours boiled down to an acrid smelling, blackened mass. The flat stank, as did all of the contents, including my dog. Security had come by to investigate after the neighbours called it in – it seems the alarm did not go off in my unit.
Needless to say, my face was as ashen gray as the pot. My brain was still half baked and I was not looking forward to the clean-up. Luckily, there was no fire and no visible smoke damage, but the acrid smoke had gotten into everything and I spent the rest of the day scubbing and cleaning while mumbling to myself. The second tragedy didn’t take long to traipse my way. After loading the dishwasher, I went to re-do all the laundry, when I heard the familiar sound of water running and my dog whining. Turning the corner to my kitchen, I realised I was standing in a water logged carpet, water flowing from the dishwasher and cabinets. It seems god decided to flood my kitchen as well, to quell the fire that once burned. Too bad his timing sucks. I ran to the main water valve and shut it off – the washer had broken resulting in the flood.
That evening, while sitting in my stinky apartment, exahusted from cleaning I turned on the television, only to see news about floods in Peterborough and fires in B.C. Not sure what calamity will come next, but if your keen on following, then just turn on the news.
Monday, June 7, 2004
China Trip Diaries
Friday May 21 - 21h15m
Enroute to China and I honestly don't know how you regular travellers do it. I have sat through 2 full length movies, countless news and short films, rubbery chicken with the ever so elegant flavour of cough medication, and I am only 8 hours into my 12 hour flight to Japan. A 1 hour waylay there and then 3 more hours on Air Nippon to Beijing. Where are the damned teleportation devices?
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It is now 10:37pm EST, and I have been on this plane for 9 hours and 37 minutes. We are 1339 miles from our destination and I am going stir crazy. Can't sleep like most people because the seats are so small. I have gone to pee over 9 times. I have nothing better to do but wonder what they do with all that piss etc? Do they just release it while in flight? Puts a whole new spin on "raindrops are falling on my head". Anyhow, 3 hours and 37 minutes to go.
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May 22 20h05m
After arriving at Beijing Airport, we were greeted by our tour guide Jeffrey who gave us the essentials on taxi and road etiquette, which I gathered was close to none. When you have 1.5 billion people travelling en masse, it makes it difficult to gauge what rules to follow - rickshaws, millions of cars, millions of bikes and millions of pedestrians. It was a wonder that I didn't see any accidents. We arrived at our hotel Marco Polo intact, and we settled in for a jet-lagged sleep. We were up at 5:30am, unable to sleep further.
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May 23
Beijing is this incredible combination of modern and old. Cranes and new buildings literally dot the sky in every direction as far as one can see. Besides a short stint in Chinese studies in university, I am amazed and somewhat dissappointed with my lack of education about China. I half expected to see Communism and gray garbs still rampant. Instead, Beijing is modern and bustling with activity. It hosts 13 million, which is one third Canada's population and most seem to be in cars or motorbikes. I am told that there are 1,000 new cars driven onto these busy streets each day.
We have visited Tian'an'men Square, the Forbidden city and the Temple of Heaven. These are all architectural emblems of an ancient society, built by Emperors and dynasties that make up the history of China. Our last stop was the Lamas temple, an incredible Lamas Buddhist temple where I received much needed tranquility after a rather exhausting tour of the city.
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May 24
Visited the Summer palace that rests on Kunming Lake, where the Dowager Empress built a palace to entertain her during the summer (the funds were taken from the Navy reserve, and resulted in the eventual demise of China to the Japanese). I have to say the place is gorgeous, but is packed with Chinese people pushing and spitting just about everywhere - I have gotten somewhat used to the nastiness - a cultural social difference which I will simply have to bear with as a foreigner to this country. This is one realisation that I have come to with some difficulty - That as a Chinese person raised in a Western country, I am looked at as a foreigner. I don't speak Mandarin (Putong Hua) very well and as such it is difficult to communicate. Additionally, the rules of western society, do not necessarily apply to this part of the world and I am fast seeing that my stereotypes and prejudices are something I need to work on.
Enroute to China and I honestly don't know how you regular travellers do it. I have sat through 2 full length movies, countless news and short films, rubbery chicken with the ever so elegant flavour of cough medication, and I am only 8 hours into my 12 hour flight to Japan. A 1 hour waylay there and then 3 more hours on Air Nippon to Beijing. Where are the damned teleportation devices?
--------------------
It is now 10:37pm EST, and I have been on this plane for 9 hours and 37 minutes. We are 1339 miles from our destination and I am going stir crazy. Can't sleep like most people because the seats are so small. I have gone to pee over 9 times. I have nothing better to do but wonder what they do with all that piss etc? Do they just release it while in flight? Puts a whole new spin on "raindrops are falling on my head". Anyhow, 3 hours and 37 minutes to go.
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May 22 20h05m
After arriving at Beijing Airport, we were greeted by our tour guide Jeffrey who gave us the essentials on taxi and road etiquette, which I gathered was close to none. When you have 1.5 billion people travelling en masse, it makes it difficult to gauge what rules to follow - rickshaws, millions of cars, millions of bikes and millions of pedestrians. It was a wonder that I didn't see any accidents. We arrived at our hotel Marco Polo intact, and we settled in for a jet-lagged sleep. We were up at 5:30am, unable to sleep further.
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May 23
Beijing is this incredible combination of modern and old. Cranes and new buildings literally dot the sky in every direction as far as one can see. Besides a short stint in Chinese studies in university, I am amazed and somewhat dissappointed with my lack of education about China. I half expected to see Communism and gray garbs still rampant. Instead, Beijing is modern and bustling with activity. It hosts 13 million, which is one third Canada's population and most seem to be in cars or motorbikes. I am told that there are 1,000 new cars driven onto these busy streets each day.
We have visited Tian'an'men Square, the Forbidden city and the Temple of Heaven. These are all architectural emblems of an ancient society, built by Emperors and dynasties that make up the history of China. Our last stop was the Lamas temple, an incredible Lamas Buddhist temple where I received much needed tranquility after a rather exhausting tour of the city.
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May 24
Visited the Summer palace that rests on Kunming Lake, where the Dowager Empress built a palace to entertain her during the summer (the funds were taken from the Navy reserve, and resulted in the eventual demise of China to the Japanese). I have to say the place is gorgeous, but is packed with Chinese people pushing and spitting just about everywhere - I have gotten somewhat used to the nastiness - a cultural social difference which I will simply have to bear with as a foreigner to this country. This is one realisation that I have come to with some difficulty - That as a Chinese person raised in a Western country, I am looked at as a foreigner. I don't speak Mandarin (Putong Hua) very well and as such it is difficult to communicate. Additionally, the rules of western society, do not necessarily apply to this part of the world and I am fast seeing that my stereotypes and prejudices are something I need to work on.
For the afternoon, we take a long bumpy drive along precarious mountain roads from Beijing to Mutianyu, to see the Great Wall of China. It is immense and foreboding. The wall stretches and winds across the mountains and into the clouds. I feel as though I am riding a dragons back. The locals pester us to buy things and follow us along our whole walk, waiting and literally begging us to buy something. They wear torn ragged and dusty clothes, and will haggle to get any money. I feel bad but get postcards for 3 RMB (CAN$.50) and a shirt I haggled from 60RMB to 10RMB (CAN$1.50)
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May 25
We are in Nanchang, a 2 hour flight from Beijing, and I can really see the impact of economic growth in an otherwise rural region. Nanchang is the birthing ground for the Communist-led uprising of August 1, 1927, but the marks of the Communist era are all but erased. The population is 1.5 million and is considered a small city. The city is dense, dirty and compact, and very humid and hot. The people are robust with a strong country-folk character. They are upfront, loud and direct. They are simple in many ways, that only one can understand when one speaks to them. They have grown from a river side rural and agricultural life to this bustling city. Hotels and franchises abound. Their simplicity became ever so evident when speaking to a local girl who we met through our local contact. She tells me she is from the country where her family still grows rice. She has all the modern accoutrements - has dyed red hair, has a cell phone, yet has never been out of this region, never seen a plane or a train.
I am here to spend a few days with my 95 year old grandfather and 96 year old grand aunt (his sister). They don’t get along well, and this portion of the trip is becoming tedious and painful.
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May 26
We are headed for Longshan today. The drive is 4 hours and it is my first experience in seeing the country-side and the Agrarian lifestyle. The countryside hasn't changed all that much and I imagine myself in the old feudal dynastic society. Verdant fields of rice paddies, water bogged with mud brick homes and thatched clay tiled roofs. The only ties to the modern world are the occasional power lines and paved road that cuts through the landscape. Even in these rural areas there are tones of people, all working and toiling in the fields. I am humbled and feel the strength of these people. Their dark skin and dirty hands show their endurance and strength. Most live in mud clay homes or squat square structures. The countryside is hot hot hot. Humidity is the norm for this water bogged country - fed by 2 major rivers, the Chiang Jiang (Yangzi River) and Huang He (Yellow River).
Rice paddy fields, shanty towns, and beautifully carved mountains cover this landscape. I am in awe at the beauty and serenity of these sunny green pastures and looming mountains.
We reach Long Fu Shan (Dragon Tiger Mountain) and ride down the river in a very cool bamboo raft. 2 guides take us downstream and show us the Hanging Burial Caskets that are known for this region. On high cliffs surrounding the river are naturally carved niches and in them you can see burial caskets of the local ancestral people, placed seemingly precariously within.
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May 29
We leave Nanchangs busy train station and settle into our 4 person 'soft seat' cabin, which cost 127RMB ($22can) Soft seat refers to sleeper cots, which are comfy and fairly clean. The trip is 9 hours, but they pass nicely with great views of the landscape (Definitely would recommend this mode of travel in China). Mind you the toilets again are just holes in the floor. Therefore, no shitting or pissing when at a station or you'll splatter some poor unsuspecting fool boarding or exiting the caboose.
Not everything was beautiful and amusing. On our trip, we witnessed the true slums of China in the steel manufacturing cities. People toiled in these remote towns, where coal burning produced dark clouds and flames that burned the skies. The homes were no more then a mixture of tin and bamboo shacks set up beside these factories. I always knew how fortunate I was, but seeing children play in these dirty slums and watching their mothers wash and prepare food in a dirty river simply brought tears to my eyes.
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May 29-31
We arrived in Huangshan (Anhui Province) the home of my ancestors, late on the 30th. It is a major Agrarian society with its wet, foggy and temperate climate - with rice and tea being major exports. Green tea is specially grown here on steep slopes 800 ft above sea level, where they are continually covered in mist and rain. We have taken the Cable car up Huangsan (Yellow Mountain) and I am completely blown away by the beauty of this landscape. This is the China I have seen in paintings and movies (most recently in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon). I have been looking forward to this part of the trip and am not dissappointed. The mountains are old and steep and we have taken many hikes through fog and mist filled forests. I can understand why this place has produced so many poets, painters and scholars.
Unfortunately this scenic attraction has been over run by tourists who scream and shout, led by tour guides with megaphone speakers to herd their flocks. I am upset by the lack of respect that they have for this place. I suppose this is my Western sensibility again, but I am finding the Chinese people of now quite the contrast of the china of past. History and poems have always depicted the Chinese and the culture as dignified, quiet, serene and beautiful. I haven't found much of that during my trip, but I can't possibly understand what living in a populated society like this would do to me. The sheer amount of people in China may explain the consant rush. Everyone is looking to get their job or task done first, they are looking to get that empty seat on the bus or train. This makes it a very busy and seemingly impatient society.
China has gone through a tumultuous 100 years and I have spoken and learned a lot about what the Cultural Revolution has done to many of the citizens - none of it good. I have witnessed impoverished porters walking up hundreds of steps, bringing provisions to the hotels above. They have hard looks on their faces, torn ragged clothes, and grunt with every step they take. They not only carry the weight of the world, but bamboo poles that carry 60 to 95 kilos of weight across their backs (they get paid by the amount of weight they can carry). It is their way of life and know they have no option but this to feed their families.
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May 31-June 02
We have taken the cable car down the mountain and are walking the 500 year old streets of Tunxi. The old city has been repaired and you can see the beautiful frames and wood structures that are typical of the Anhui people and this region.
Our driver takes us to Hangzhou, which is a 4 hour drive along very bumpy country back roads. They are building a major highway and it should be finished by the end of the year. I suppose Communism has its merits, in that it can get things done very quickly (no one to argue with) and it also has an immense resource of people to do the work.
Hangzhou is the first modern city in China that I have seen that makes me feel more at ease. People are more courteous and drivers are less erratic. The shopping here is great as well. We visit my families' ancestral grave and spend the time walking around the city and eating local delicacies (none of which included civet cats or dog). I have weighed myself and I have gained 10 pounds while here. Those of you who know me well, know that is an enormous accomplishment for me.
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June 02-June 05
We have taken the train to Shanghai, also known as the Pearl of the Orient, Whore of the East. Shanghai has been dragged through an incredibly chequered past of invasions and occupations. This created a wild city of opium dens, underground gambling joints, brothels, gangsters and decadence, all brought to an abrupt end by the suffocating grip of Communist rule in the late 1940s. The city is now under the influx of a greater power-money, commercialism and growth. This place is quite unbelievable. The city is filled with skyscrapers, glass towers and high-end boutique shops and malls that sell Gucci, Lagerfeld, Louis Vuitton and other fancy shmancy garbs. I am not surprised to see that the hunger for wealth, money and power has taken Shanghai by its graceful throat. Sophistication, wealth, modernism and success are on everyone’s mind. The city is one vast shopping spree. Foreigners abound everywhere and Shanghai is once again taking its place as the pearl of the Orient.
We have spent days here and visited family and many tourist attractions. Took the Maglev train from the city to the airport in 8 mins (428km/hour) and it was a wicked ride.
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China has turned out to be a rollercoaster of experiences and emotions. I can safely say that I have ridden the Golden Dragon, but it has been emotionally taxing and I have discovered many new things about myself and the microcosm I call home. I have enjoyed my experience and personal growth while here, but am glad to return to my home. China may be my roots, but I have been transplanted and enjoy the soil here in Canada, and truly appreciate what I have more so then I could ever have imagined.
--------------------
May 25
We are in Nanchang, a 2 hour flight from Beijing, and I can really see the impact of economic growth in an otherwise rural region. Nanchang is the birthing ground for the Communist-led uprising of August 1, 1927, but the marks of the Communist era are all but erased. The population is 1.5 million and is considered a small city. The city is dense, dirty and compact, and very humid and hot. The people are robust with a strong country-folk character. They are upfront, loud and direct. They are simple in many ways, that only one can understand when one speaks to them. They have grown from a river side rural and agricultural life to this bustling city. Hotels and franchises abound. Their simplicity became ever so evident when speaking to a local girl who we met through our local contact. She tells me she is from the country where her family still grows rice. She has all the modern accoutrements - has dyed red hair, has a cell phone, yet has never been out of this region, never seen a plane or a train.
I am here to spend a few days with my 95 year old grandfather and 96 year old grand aunt (his sister). They don’t get along well, and this portion of the trip is becoming tedious and painful.
----------------
May 26
We are headed for Longshan today. The drive is 4 hours and it is my first experience in seeing the country-side and the Agrarian lifestyle. The countryside hasn't changed all that much and I imagine myself in the old feudal dynastic society. Verdant fields of rice paddies, water bogged with mud brick homes and thatched clay tiled roofs. The only ties to the modern world are the occasional power lines and paved road that cuts through the landscape. Even in these rural areas there are tones of people, all working and toiling in the fields. I am humbled and feel the strength of these people. Their dark skin and dirty hands show their endurance and strength. Most live in mud clay homes or squat square structures. The countryside is hot hot hot. Humidity is the norm for this water bogged country - fed by 2 major rivers, the Chiang Jiang (Yangzi River) and Huang He (Yellow River).
Rice paddy fields, shanty towns, and beautifully carved mountains cover this landscape. I am in awe at the beauty and serenity of these sunny green pastures and looming mountains.
We reach Long Fu Shan (Dragon Tiger Mountain) and ride down the river in a very cool bamboo raft. 2 guides take us downstream and show us the Hanging Burial Caskets that are known for this region. On high cliffs surrounding the river are naturally carved niches and in them you can see burial caskets of the local ancestral people, placed seemingly precariously within.
----------------
May 29
We leave Nanchangs busy train station and settle into our 4 person 'soft seat' cabin, which cost 127RMB ($22can) Soft seat refers to sleeper cots, which are comfy and fairly clean. The trip is 9 hours, but they pass nicely with great views of the landscape (Definitely would recommend this mode of travel in China). Mind you the toilets again are just holes in the floor. Therefore, no shitting or pissing when at a station or you'll splatter some poor unsuspecting fool boarding or exiting the caboose.
Not everything was beautiful and amusing. On our trip, we witnessed the true slums of China in the steel manufacturing cities. People toiled in these remote towns, where coal burning produced dark clouds and flames that burned the skies. The homes were no more then a mixture of tin and bamboo shacks set up beside these factories. I always knew how fortunate I was, but seeing children play in these dirty slums and watching their mothers wash and prepare food in a dirty river simply brought tears to my eyes.
---------------
May 29-31
We arrived in Huangshan (Anhui Province) the home of my ancestors, late on the 30th. It is a major Agrarian society with its wet, foggy and temperate climate - with rice and tea being major exports. Green tea is specially grown here on steep slopes 800 ft above sea level, where they are continually covered in mist and rain. We have taken the Cable car up Huangsan (Yellow Mountain) and I am completely blown away by the beauty of this landscape. This is the China I have seen in paintings and movies (most recently in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon). I have been looking forward to this part of the trip and am not dissappointed. The mountains are old and steep and we have taken many hikes through fog and mist filled forests. I can understand why this place has produced so many poets, painters and scholars.
Unfortunately this scenic attraction has been over run by tourists who scream and shout, led by tour guides with megaphone speakers to herd their flocks. I am upset by the lack of respect that they have for this place. I suppose this is my Western sensibility again, but I am finding the Chinese people of now quite the contrast of the china of past. History and poems have always depicted the Chinese and the culture as dignified, quiet, serene and beautiful. I haven't found much of that during my trip, but I can't possibly understand what living in a populated society like this would do to me. The sheer amount of people in China may explain the consant rush. Everyone is looking to get their job or task done first, they are looking to get that empty seat on the bus or train. This makes it a very busy and seemingly impatient society.
China has gone through a tumultuous 100 years and I have spoken and learned a lot about what the Cultural Revolution has done to many of the citizens - none of it good. I have witnessed impoverished porters walking up hundreds of steps, bringing provisions to the hotels above. They have hard looks on their faces, torn ragged clothes, and grunt with every step they take. They not only carry the weight of the world, but bamboo poles that carry 60 to 95 kilos of weight across their backs (they get paid by the amount of weight they can carry). It is their way of life and know they have no option but this to feed their families.
-----------------
May 31-June 02
We have taken the cable car down the mountain and are walking the 500 year old streets of Tunxi. The old city has been repaired and you can see the beautiful frames and wood structures that are typical of the Anhui people and this region.
Our driver takes us to Hangzhou, which is a 4 hour drive along very bumpy country back roads. They are building a major highway and it should be finished by the end of the year. I suppose Communism has its merits, in that it can get things done very quickly (no one to argue with) and it also has an immense resource of people to do the work.
Hangzhou is the first modern city in China that I have seen that makes me feel more at ease. People are more courteous and drivers are less erratic. The shopping here is great as well. We visit my families' ancestral grave and spend the time walking around the city and eating local delicacies (none of which included civet cats or dog). I have weighed myself and I have gained 10 pounds while here. Those of you who know me well, know that is an enormous accomplishment for me.
------------------
June 02-June 05
We have taken the train to Shanghai, also known as the Pearl of the Orient, Whore of the East. Shanghai has been dragged through an incredibly chequered past of invasions and occupations. This created a wild city of opium dens, underground gambling joints, brothels, gangsters and decadence, all brought to an abrupt end by the suffocating grip of Communist rule in the late 1940s. The city is now under the influx of a greater power-money, commercialism and growth. This place is quite unbelievable. The city is filled with skyscrapers, glass towers and high-end boutique shops and malls that sell Gucci, Lagerfeld, Louis Vuitton and other fancy shmancy garbs. I am not surprised to see that the hunger for wealth, money and power has taken Shanghai by its graceful throat. Sophistication, wealth, modernism and success are on everyone’s mind. The city is one vast shopping spree. Foreigners abound everywhere and Shanghai is once again taking its place as the pearl of the Orient.
We have spent days here and visited family and many tourist attractions. Took the Maglev train from the city to the airport in 8 mins (428km/hour) and it was a wicked ride.
-----------------
China has turned out to be a rollercoaster of experiences and emotions. I can safely say that I have ridden the Golden Dragon, but it has been emotionally taxing and I have discovered many new things about myself and the microcosm I call home. I have enjoyed my experience and personal growth while here, but am glad to return to my home. China may be my roots, but I have been transplanted and enjoy the soil here in Canada, and truly appreciate what I have more so then I could ever have imagined.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Getting excited about my trip to China in May. Will be travelling with my parents, brother and sister-in-law - travelling to Beijing and Shanghai. I have never been to the Far East, and only have 2 weeks to travel, so unfortunately will only be able to visit a few places. Just got my passport - Apparently you can't smile since the 9-11 incident, so I look about 10 years older than my usual self- also looks like a mug shot.
Anyhow, will let you all know the details of the trip and pictures when I come around to it.
Anyhow, will let you all know the details of the trip and pictures when I come around to it.
Friday, April 16, 2004
Dating 101 Part trois
I went on a date Wednesday.
I think I would have had more fun folding my underwear into origami.
Actually, all I thought about during the dinner was how quickly I could get home so that I could do my laundry and eat a bag of chips.
Sad, isn’t it?
I told my boss about this date and his immediate response was;
“Never go for dinner for the first date, because you’ll be trapped for the entire meal. Go for a coffee or drink, where you can leave at anytime.”
I suppose this makes quite a bit of sense, since you don’t have to hang around if the guy bores you to death. I just didn’t realize that there was this dating procedure that I was supposed to follow. I am such a neophyte when it comes to dating – or maybe I am just naïve.
Anyhow, wish me luck on my next coffee date.
Scratch that… better make it a BEER date. With my luck and history, I’ll need the drink when I get there.
I think I would have had more fun folding my underwear into origami.
Actually, all I thought about during the dinner was how quickly I could get home so that I could do my laundry and eat a bag of chips.
Sad, isn’t it?
I told my boss about this date and his immediate response was;
“Never go for dinner for the first date, because you’ll be trapped for the entire meal. Go for a coffee or drink, where you can leave at anytime.”
I suppose this makes quite a bit of sense, since you don’t have to hang around if the guy bores you to death. I just didn’t realize that there was this dating procedure that I was supposed to follow. I am such a neophyte when it comes to dating – or maybe I am just naïve.
Anyhow, wish me luck on my next coffee date.
Scratch that… better make it a BEER date. With my luck and history, I’ll need the drink when I get there.
The Costco of Living
We have all heard the infamous quote “Your eyes are bigger than your stomach”, n’est pas? No where else could you test this theory than at Costco, or some such Bulk Supermarket. I recently went on my virginal trip to Costco. I have never been and I certainly had no idea what to expect. What confronted my senses also confused them. Never have I seen so much stuff in one place in such large quantities. From fruit to fruit-of-the-loom, from dishware to computer wares, from charcoal to diamonds – this place was a one-stop shop for the...well I really don’t know for who.
So there I am wandering through vast aisles, feeling like a confused and overwhelmed Lilliputian, when I come across the meat section. I honestly stood there for about 15 minutes trying to decipher exactly what I was supposed to do with half a cow, and where I was supposed to put it.
I suppose if I was feeding some poor nation on a budget, this would be the place to go, but the fact remains that I am not, and the majority of food stuffs in the joint was pre-made, processed and very fattening. It would be a waste for me to spend $50 on the membership because I’d be dead on my kitchen floor from a clogged artery or heart attack after my first voyage there.
Hmmm - I think I have an idea why the aisles are so big now.
To share in my virginal experience, a group of friends came with me bringing along their trusty and roomy SUV. When I arrived at the colossal warehouse, they laughed with glee and delight at my response and shock. By the end of our 2 hours, my one friend spent 450 plus bucks – what he was planning to do with 6 Litres of Windex, beats me – maybe he plans on cleaning all the windows for his condo complex.
See who’s laughing now.
Anyhow, here are the facts:
I am single guy living in a modest 715 square foot condo, with little storage space. The reality of having all these bulk sized products is ridiculous but even more ridiculous, was that I was entertaining the idea. The success of these business joints, I realized, was due in part by the confusion one feels by the vast quantities for low prices. I also realized that as a smart consumer you really have to balance and determine whether the deal is really a deal.
Is that 40 Lb bag of potatoes really worth it? Or, will it sit in your cramped apartment, whereupon 5 weeks from now you find it has sprout forth tendrils like some grotesque Alien?
The question and dilemma is great because we all want the DEAL. Admit it; we are ALL greedy little buggers and scrooges when you think about it, so the idea of getting some outrageously large product for a small price is greater than the price of it rotting into a pile of putrid trash.
What I ended up coming away with:
• 1 Box of California Jumbo grapefruits (Think of a 5 PIN Bowling ball) there were 13 in the box.
• 1 bag of pears (12)
• 1 tray of pork loins (more than I can eat)
• Dishwasher tablets (box of 80)
• Some money left in my account
• My sanity
• And an experience I will never forget.
So there I am wandering through vast aisles, feeling like a confused and overwhelmed Lilliputian, when I come across the meat section. I honestly stood there for about 15 minutes trying to decipher exactly what I was supposed to do with half a cow, and where I was supposed to put it.
I suppose if I was feeding some poor nation on a budget, this would be the place to go, but the fact remains that I am not, and the majority of food stuffs in the joint was pre-made, processed and very fattening. It would be a waste for me to spend $50 on the membership because I’d be dead on my kitchen floor from a clogged artery or heart attack after my first voyage there.
Hmmm - I think I have an idea why the aisles are so big now.
To share in my virginal experience, a group of friends came with me bringing along their trusty and roomy SUV. When I arrived at the colossal warehouse, they laughed with glee and delight at my response and shock. By the end of our 2 hours, my one friend spent 450 plus bucks – what he was planning to do with 6 Litres of Windex, beats me – maybe he plans on cleaning all the windows for his condo complex.
See who’s laughing now.
Anyhow, here are the facts:
I am single guy living in a modest 715 square foot condo, with little storage space. The reality of having all these bulk sized products is ridiculous but even more ridiculous, was that I was entertaining the idea. The success of these business joints, I realized, was due in part by the confusion one feels by the vast quantities for low prices. I also realized that as a smart consumer you really have to balance and determine whether the deal is really a deal.
Is that 40 Lb bag of potatoes really worth it? Or, will it sit in your cramped apartment, whereupon 5 weeks from now you find it has sprout forth tendrils like some grotesque Alien?
The question and dilemma is great because we all want the DEAL. Admit it; we are ALL greedy little buggers and scrooges when you think about it, so the idea of getting some outrageously large product for a small price is greater than the price of it rotting into a pile of putrid trash.
What I ended up coming away with:
• 1 Box of California Jumbo grapefruits (Think of a 5 PIN Bowling ball) there were 13 in the box.
• 1 bag of pears (12)
• 1 tray of pork loins (more than I can eat)
• Dishwasher tablets (box of 80)
• Some money left in my account
• My sanity
• And an experience I will never forget.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Cirque du Soliel offers to reinstate HIV-positive gymnast
In response to an email I sent to Cirque du Soliel, expressing my shock and disappointment regarding the unethical treatment of Matthew Cusick, this is what Renée-Claude Ménard sent back to me. I am sure I was not the only who emailed, mailed or called them, and am unsure if this was some mass email copy, but I must say that I am pleased with the EEOC's ruling and CDS's response thus far. This is a great sign for PLWA(HIV), and the respect and understanding that they deserve. Please read on.
-------------------------------------
Hello Alex;
I have received your request for information. I would like to begin by apologizing for not responding to your request sooner but we wanted to be able to inform you of any significant developments in this very important matter as they happened.
We wish to inform you that we will offer Matthew the opportunity to rejoin Cirque as an artist. Over the last few months, we have met with associations and experts in the field in order to confirm whether our initial decision was well-founded. Following our discussions with them, we came to the conclusion that we could reintegrate Matthew into his functions as a performer.
The Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) has invited us to go to mediation. The mediation process will begin shortly. Cirque du Soleil promises its complete cooperation and will offer to fully reinstate Matthew as a performer.
Thank you for your patience. I am enclosing an article recently published by the Associated Press that confirms our position.
Renée-Claude Ménard
Directeur/Director
Relations Publiques/Public Relations
Siège Social International/International Headquarters
Cirque du Soleil
(514) 723-7646 (7366)
renee-claude.menard@cirquedusoleil.com
En cas d'urgence/in case of emergency : Hélène Pintus (514) 723-7646 (8019)
Cirque du Soleil offers to reinstate HIV-positive gymnast
By LISA LEFF
Associated Press Writer
SAN FRANCISCO --
Cirque du Soleil offered Friday to reinstate an HIV-positive gymnast after federal labor investigators found "reasonable cause" to believe the Montreal-based circus engaged in job discrimination when it fired the performer because of his condition.
The offer came hours after the Los Angeles office of the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission upheld the merits of a complaint brought by the fired gymnast, Matthew Cusick. A Cirque du Soleil spokeswoman said the circus was placing "no restrictions" on the kind of acts in which Cusick could appear.
"We are ready to welcome him back," Cirque du Soleil spokeswoman Renee-Claude Menard said. "Our job now is to make sure it's done quickly and efficiently."
The sudden turnaround in Cirque du Soleil's position was hailed by the Lambda Legal Defense and Education Fund, which represented Cusick.
"For the last eight months, we have tried to get Cirque du Soleil to understand the seriousness of firing someone simply because he has HIV," said Hayley Gorenberg, director of Lambda Legal's AIDS Project. "We are very encouraged that the federal government's findings will force Cirque to finally take this seriously."
Cirque du Soleil, which is known for its daring aerial acts, never denied that Cusick was fired as a "catcher" in the Russian High Bar act and as an acrobat in the Chinese tall pole act days before he was to join the "Mystere" show in Las Vegas because of his HIV status.
Cusick, 32, voluntarily disclosed his health condition and had spent four months training with the group when he was informed his contact had been terminated because he posed a health risk to fellow performers. He filed his complaint under the Americans With Disabilities Act, which includes protections for people with HIV.
Menard downplayed the role the EEOC determination had in persuading Cirque du Soleil to change its position. Rather, she insisted the circus was convinced after consulting medical experts who said "the risks are minimal" that an acrobat infected with HIV would pass the virus on to another performer.
"We have had a sufficient amount of time to go in depth with the research on this and be thorough in getting a better understanding of the risks of HIV," she said.
Cusick said in an interview Friday that it was too soon to say whether he will accept Cirque du Soleil's offer because he had only learned of it through a news release the circus issued and that he had not been contacted directly. But he said he was pleased by the EEOC's ruling.
"It is very exciting to know they are standing behind me for this," he said.
Details of a settlement, including possible monetary damages, still would have to be negotiated, Gorenberg said, adding that Cusick wants to make sure Cirque du Soleil changes its hiring and training policies "so no one would have to go through what he had to go through."
Menard said Cirque would consider hiring other HIV-positive performers if they met all physical and talent requirements.
"For quality we are not going to go the other way now. We are not going to have a special HIV show," she said.
Cusick's case attracted support from well-known athletes and Hollywood celebrities after Lambda Legal organized protests outside venues where the circus was performing in San Francisco and Los Angeles. Menard said she hoped such public relations problems would end now that the two sides were moving toward a settlement.
"We would rather people think of a Cirque that is close to our shows and not close to this incident," she said.
-------------------------------------
Hello Alex;
I have received your request for information. I would like to begin by apologizing for not responding to your request sooner but we wanted to be able to inform you of any significant developments in this very important matter as they happened.
We wish to inform you that we will offer Matthew the opportunity to rejoin Cirque as an artist. Over the last few months, we have met with associations and experts in the field in order to confirm whether our initial decision was well-founded. Following our discussions with them, we came to the conclusion that we could reintegrate Matthew into his functions as a performer.
The Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) has invited us to go to mediation. The mediation process will begin shortly. Cirque du Soleil promises its complete cooperation and will offer to fully reinstate Matthew as a performer.
Thank you for your patience. I am enclosing an article recently published by the Associated Press that confirms our position.
Renée-Claude Ménard
Directeur/Director
Relations Publiques/Public Relations
Siège Social International/International Headquarters
Cirque du Soleil
(514) 723-7646 (7366)
renee-claude.menard@cirquedusoleil.com
En cas d'urgence/in case of emergency : Hélène Pintus (514) 723-7646 (8019)
Cirque du Soleil offers to reinstate HIV-positive gymnast
By LISA LEFF
Associated Press Writer
SAN FRANCISCO --
Cirque du Soleil offered Friday to reinstate an HIV-positive gymnast after federal labor investigators found "reasonable cause" to believe the Montreal-based circus engaged in job discrimination when it fired the performer because of his condition.
The offer came hours after the Los Angeles office of the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission upheld the merits of a complaint brought by the fired gymnast, Matthew Cusick. A Cirque du Soleil spokeswoman said the circus was placing "no restrictions" on the kind of acts in which Cusick could appear.
"We are ready to welcome him back," Cirque du Soleil spokeswoman Renee-Claude Menard said. "Our job now is to make sure it's done quickly and efficiently."
The sudden turnaround in Cirque du Soleil's position was hailed by the Lambda Legal Defense and Education Fund, which represented Cusick.
"For the last eight months, we have tried to get Cirque du Soleil to understand the seriousness of firing someone simply because he has HIV," said Hayley Gorenberg, director of Lambda Legal's AIDS Project. "We are very encouraged that the federal government's findings will force Cirque to finally take this seriously."
Cirque du Soleil, which is known for its daring aerial acts, never denied that Cusick was fired as a "catcher" in the Russian High Bar act and as an acrobat in the Chinese tall pole act days before he was to join the "Mystere" show in Las Vegas because of his HIV status.
Cusick, 32, voluntarily disclosed his health condition and had spent four months training with the group when he was informed his contact had been terminated because he posed a health risk to fellow performers. He filed his complaint under the Americans With Disabilities Act, which includes protections for people with HIV.
Menard downplayed the role the EEOC determination had in persuading Cirque du Soleil to change its position. Rather, she insisted the circus was convinced after consulting medical experts who said "the risks are minimal" that an acrobat infected with HIV would pass the virus on to another performer.
"We have had a sufficient amount of time to go in depth with the research on this and be thorough in getting a better understanding of the risks of HIV," she said.
Cusick said in an interview Friday that it was too soon to say whether he will accept Cirque du Soleil's offer because he had only learned of it through a news release the circus issued and that he had not been contacted directly. But he said he was pleased by the EEOC's ruling.
"It is very exciting to know they are standing behind me for this," he said.
Details of a settlement, including possible monetary damages, still would have to be negotiated, Gorenberg said, adding that Cusick wants to make sure Cirque du Soleil changes its hiring and training policies "so no one would have to go through what he had to go through."
Menard said Cirque would consider hiring other HIV-positive performers if they met all physical and talent requirements.
"For quality we are not going to go the other way now. We are not going to have a special HIV show," she said.
Cusick's case attracted support from well-known athletes and Hollywood celebrities after Lambda Legal organized protests outside venues where the circus was performing in San Francisco and Los Angeles. Menard said she hoped such public relations problems would end now that the two sides were moving toward a settlement.
"We would rather people think of a Cirque that is close to our shows and not close to this incident," she said.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
Radical People and their radical thoughts
I was recently reading someone’s personal blog about the State of Israel and the plight of her people. I was reading through the many different articles, and associated comments but was perturbed by the radical tone of the author. Now, I am all for free speech and commentaries and all that jazz, but when they are so polarised they often scare me. The author was describing the movie “The Passion of Christ” which was directed by Mel Gibson and discusses the death of Christ. The movie has not hit the screens as yet, but it certainly has generated enough media publicity with its contentious topic. The gist of the story is that Christ died at the hands of Jews – simple as that – that was the Coles Notes version, so bear with – Anyhow, the author continues by saying that Christians are,
“…Playing on the favorite Christian game of conspiring to incite hatred against the Jewish People, Gibson's latest release goes out of its way to demonise Jews.”
I don’t disagree with the author that SOME Christian fundamentalists (or any religious fundamentalists for that matter) may have an agenda, but to say they are playing some favourite game is simply biased and completely unfair. Now, as a pretext, remember that I am a proud Gay-Canadian-Asian-male (the order doesn’t really matter), who was raised as a Roman Catholic (no longer following), who lived and breathed in a Jewish community in Toronto for over 10 years (quite the experience). As you can see, my cultural experience and interaction is not limited to "one-world" or to "one culture". So, it is with no wonder that I found the depth of stereotyping and prejudice in the authors’ voice about Christians and other groups of people, all that more interesting.
The authors’ comment was also curious in that, if the New Testament (Bible) was pitting Christians against Jews for their beliefs, then one has to question any other parable or biblical story that seems somewhat contradictory. For example, the Old Testament (Torah) is notorious for stories about a wrathful and jealous god, one who will not allow images of other gods be produced, lest they be “smote”. Does this mean that Hindus who are polytheistic are going to Hell? If this author is saying that the New Testament is a fabrication and a lie, who is to say that the Old Testament, the Torah, Koran are not fabrications? The author continues by saying,
“The New Testament, written by a Roman Agent, Paul, is essentially a fabric of lies, written from the standpoint of a Roman lackey who is angry at the Jews for not accepting his fibs. This is why Paul eliminates almost all mention of the Romans and their brutal occupation of Judea and Jerusalem, and tries to frame the Jews (the ones being occupied and brutalised!!) for the murder of one of their own people- who was trying to get rid of the Romans….Logical? No.”
Well, not to rain on your parade, but “no” that is not logical. For this author to claim that another person’s belief system is false and full of lies is like the pot calling the kettle black. If this argument is to hold water, then one could argue that the whole bible is simply a story. As an example, to the orthodox Christian or Jew, the Genesis is the foundation point of all life. It is the beginning and the validation that God is life giving. But who truly believes that the world was created in 7 days? Does this then put into question the validity or truthfulness of the Genesis? Who am I to say that you should or should not believe in it? Sure we can commentary and analyse, but who are we to judge?
Honestly, I am not a big fan of fanatical religions for this very reason and am in no way saying Christians are right in this commentary. If I were to believe this mode of thought, I would likely be some militant fag painting the town pink with slogans to bring down the establishment of all Religious and government institutions that go against me as a gay man. Note earlier that the author says Christians are “conspiring to incite hatred” Those few words alone were enough to indicate that this argument was bereft of any fairness or any semblance to truth, but was simply an outpouring of radical thoughts. It’s like saying all Muslims are terrorists, that all fags have lisps, or that all Chinese drive poorly. It’s ludicrous, irrational and downright offensive, except for the Chinese driving poorly. I can say that because I’m Chinese.
Mind you, this was a blog (a personal take on things, much like mine) and not an article, but I think every author or writer has a duty to the truth and to proper research.
Let me try to explain –
We are all in our own ways, formed of opinions which are based on our cultural, religious and social experiences. A Jew will have thousands of years of history fueling their need to find "right" and "justice" in a world that persecuted their people. I as a gay Asian male will be doing the same – the 2 are obviously different and I’m not trying to lessen their validity, but the 2 are fundamentally the same. So, when I read or hear about commentaries that are based on emotional and judgmental views, I have to question how we perceive and twist things so that they represent our own views. It all comes down to the context it has been warped into. One person may see something one way, and another person, will see it from a different angle. It is about a person’s responsibility to be fair and to be educated in the topic they wish to argue.
People are too quick to judge when they should not. Uninformed opinions make a dangerous environment that fuel fear, hatred, and secularism. It is also true that people take things out of context within the environment and historical period they live in. And as a person intimately familiar with racism and homophobia and many other forms of "isms" I question every ones point of view, including my own. A healthy dose of introspection and curiosity for the truth is instrumental in learning how another person feels – like stepping into their shoes.
I worry that a world of radical thoughts will bring about laws and conditions that will favour and harbour these beliefs, because secularism is not a healthy choice.
Distancing ourselves from other cultures is not a healthy choice; it’s a form of racism in its own right.
“…Playing on the favorite Christian game of conspiring to incite hatred against the Jewish People, Gibson's latest release goes out of its way to demonise Jews.”
I don’t disagree with the author that SOME Christian fundamentalists (or any religious fundamentalists for that matter) may have an agenda, but to say they are playing some favourite game is simply biased and completely unfair. Now, as a pretext, remember that I am a proud Gay-Canadian-Asian-male (the order doesn’t really matter), who was raised as a Roman Catholic (no longer following), who lived and breathed in a Jewish community in Toronto for over 10 years (quite the experience). As you can see, my cultural experience and interaction is not limited to "one-world" or to "one culture". So, it is with no wonder that I found the depth of stereotyping and prejudice in the authors’ voice about Christians and other groups of people, all that more interesting.
The authors’ comment was also curious in that, if the New Testament (Bible) was pitting Christians against Jews for their beliefs, then one has to question any other parable or biblical story that seems somewhat contradictory. For example, the Old Testament (Torah) is notorious for stories about a wrathful and jealous god, one who will not allow images of other gods be produced, lest they be “smote”. Does this mean that Hindus who are polytheistic are going to Hell? If this author is saying that the New Testament is a fabrication and a lie, who is to say that the Old Testament, the Torah, Koran are not fabrications? The author continues by saying,
“The New Testament, written by a Roman Agent, Paul, is essentially a fabric of lies, written from the standpoint of a Roman lackey who is angry at the Jews for not accepting his fibs. This is why Paul eliminates almost all mention of the Romans and their brutal occupation of Judea and Jerusalem, and tries to frame the Jews (the ones being occupied and brutalised!!) for the murder of one of their own people- who was trying to get rid of the Romans….Logical? No.”
Well, not to rain on your parade, but “no” that is not logical. For this author to claim that another person’s belief system is false and full of lies is like the pot calling the kettle black. If this argument is to hold water, then one could argue that the whole bible is simply a story. As an example, to the orthodox Christian or Jew, the Genesis is the foundation point of all life. It is the beginning and the validation that God is life giving. But who truly believes that the world was created in 7 days? Does this then put into question the validity or truthfulness of the Genesis? Who am I to say that you should or should not believe in it? Sure we can commentary and analyse, but who are we to judge?
Honestly, I am not a big fan of fanatical religions for this very reason and am in no way saying Christians are right in this commentary. If I were to believe this mode of thought, I would likely be some militant fag painting the town pink with slogans to bring down the establishment of all Religious and government institutions that go against me as a gay man. Note earlier that the author says Christians are “conspiring to incite hatred” Those few words alone were enough to indicate that this argument was bereft of any fairness or any semblance to truth, but was simply an outpouring of radical thoughts. It’s like saying all Muslims are terrorists, that all fags have lisps, or that all Chinese drive poorly. It’s ludicrous, irrational and downright offensive, except for the Chinese driving poorly. I can say that because I’m Chinese.
Mind you, this was a blog (a personal take on things, much like mine) and not an article, but I think every author or writer has a duty to the truth and to proper research.
Let me try to explain –
We are all in our own ways, formed of opinions which are based on our cultural, religious and social experiences. A Jew will have thousands of years of history fueling their need to find "right" and "justice" in a world that persecuted their people. I as a gay Asian male will be doing the same – the 2 are obviously different and I’m not trying to lessen their validity, but the 2 are fundamentally the same. So, when I read or hear about commentaries that are based on emotional and judgmental views, I have to question how we perceive and twist things so that they represent our own views. It all comes down to the context it has been warped into. One person may see something one way, and another person, will see it from a different angle. It is about a person’s responsibility to be fair and to be educated in the topic they wish to argue.
People are too quick to judge when they should not. Uninformed opinions make a dangerous environment that fuel fear, hatred, and secularism. It is also true that people take things out of context within the environment and historical period they live in. And as a person intimately familiar with racism and homophobia and many other forms of "isms" I question every ones point of view, including my own. A healthy dose of introspection and curiosity for the truth is instrumental in learning how another person feels – like stepping into their shoes.
I worry that a world of radical thoughts will bring about laws and conditions that will favour and harbour these beliefs, because secularism is not a healthy choice.
Distancing ourselves from other cultures is not a healthy choice; it’s a form of racism in its own right.
Friday, January 30, 2004
A pain in my ass
As some of you may know, I have been shuffling around with a limp for the last 6 months due to sciatica in my right leg. This whole thing has been a fucking pain in the ass and leg, and I am close to my wits end about it.
Part of the whole recovery process was to go see a Physiotherapist which I started then stopped before the third session. It's not that I didn't want to be healed, but the Physiotherapist was a quack. The others in the office were no better. No offense to the practice or to the therapist but they were.
The first day I walked into the clinic, I knew something was odd. The receptionist was in some conniption about a funeral she had to organise and attend the following day for some person she didn't know.
I sat quietly, trying to mind my own business, reading about J. Lo and Ben's tumultuous relationship in People Magazine. As hard as I tried, I couldn't help but listen, as she first pulled out her lunch bag, then a vase from her knapsack containing the ashes of the above said. Like the sucker I am, I got pulled into the conversation.
I suppose she mistook my complete disbelief for sympathy.
She proceeded to ask me if I thought it was appropriate for her to have to arrange a funeral for someone she did not know. I responded that if she was carrying around ashes on her back, in her knapsack with her lunch, that I likely was not the right person to ask. Before she could reply, my Physiotherapist came to fetch me from the horror of having to deal with another question.
My therapist Katryzina, was a tall and very pretty woman about 31 or so with dark brown hair to her shoulders. She had an accent that reminded me of a female Schwartzenagger, and the body language of Kramer from Seinfeld. She proceeded to get details of my problems and symptoms, interjecting with the occasional "Ya, das nawt goot!" or "Ya, dis muss bee horwibul fohr yu".
She began my therapy session like any ordinary Physio session, but she had a habit of talking to herself, which I stupidly mistook as questions directed at me.
"Hmmm, Sew, dis muss be dee L5 sciatic joint dat ees kaw-zing awl dee moosle payne?"
I would answer her happily, providing details, when she would stop me mid-sentence.
She quickly told me that she liked to talk out loud during her sessions, so I should just ignore her ramblings.
On her advice, I did so.
I was in my own world (still ignoring her ramblings), curiously wondering how much closer her hand was going to grace my house jewels, when she snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. The session was over, but with a quizzical look in her eyes she asked me "Dew yu half a heering pwoblum? Yu need to onser my questions or eye kawnt hellp yu"
Dumbfounded, I decided to play along with the hard of hearing idea. I wasn't about to let Schwartzenagger get the better of me, especially when she had my leg in her grip. As I got dressed and headed out, I couldn't help but wonder about my bizarre medical and doctoral stories.
Anyhow, my leg still hurts but I have another appointment with a different therapist now.
I'm sure there will be a story coming soon, part two.
I swear I must have sucker written on my head.
Part of the whole recovery process was to go see a Physiotherapist which I started then stopped before the third session. It's not that I didn't want to be healed, but the Physiotherapist was a quack. The others in the office were no better. No offense to the practice or to the therapist but they were.
The first day I walked into the clinic, I knew something was odd. The receptionist was in some conniption about a funeral she had to organise and attend the following day for some person she didn't know.
I sat quietly, trying to mind my own business, reading about J. Lo and Ben's tumultuous relationship in People Magazine. As hard as I tried, I couldn't help but listen, as she first pulled out her lunch bag, then a vase from her knapsack containing the ashes of the above said. Like the sucker I am, I got pulled into the conversation.
I suppose she mistook my complete disbelief for sympathy.
She proceeded to ask me if I thought it was appropriate for her to have to arrange a funeral for someone she did not know. I responded that if she was carrying around ashes on her back, in her knapsack with her lunch, that I likely was not the right person to ask. Before she could reply, my Physiotherapist came to fetch me from the horror of having to deal with another question.
My therapist Katryzina, was a tall and very pretty woman about 31 or so with dark brown hair to her shoulders. She had an accent that reminded me of a female Schwartzenagger, and the body language of Kramer from Seinfeld. She proceeded to get details of my problems and symptoms, interjecting with the occasional "Ya, das nawt goot!" or "Ya, dis muss bee horwibul fohr yu".
She began my therapy session like any ordinary Physio session, but she had a habit of talking to herself, which I stupidly mistook as questions directed at me.
"Hmmm, Sew, dis muss be dee L5 sciatic joint dat ees kaw-zing awl dee moosle payne?"
I would answer her happily, providing details, when she would stop me mid-sentence.
She quickly told me that she liked to talk out loud during her sessions, so I should just ignore her ramblings.
On her advice, I did so.
I was in my own world (still ignoring her ramblings), curiously wondering how much closer her hand was going to grace my house jewels, when she snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. The session was over, but with a quizzical look in her eyes she asked me "Dew yu half a heering pwoblum? Yu need to onser my questions or eye kawnt hellp yu"
Dumbfounded, I decided to play along with the hard of hearing idea. I wasn't about to let Schwartzenagger get the better of me, especially when she had my leg in her grip. As I got dressed and headed out, I couldn't help but wonder about my bizarre medical and doctoral stories.
Anyhow, my leg still hurts but I have another appointment with a different therapist now.
I'm sure there will be a story coming soon, part two.
I swear I must have sucker written on my head.
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