09.30.09
Posted in Main Page at 9:55 pm by Tammy
Xiamen is now the city I visit the most after Beijing.
Although my flight this time was at 11am, I had to get up at barely 7:30am. The new Airport Express initiated from Clifford Hotel is great. The trip takes 70 minutes and would easily save 70rmb compared to using a car.
I had to check my tiny trolley because inspection would not allow anything liquid over 120ml.
“Why don’t you squeeze out some of it and let me go?” I said.
“No,” the guy pointed at the bottle,”It says 200ml and it stays that way.”
How stupidly dogmatic…
Glad I had enough time, would have hated to give up a new lotion…
I read a little in the waiting lounge but once I got on the plane I just passed out. The coffee saved me. At 12:40pm I got to the hotel.
There is raving reviews about Sheraton on internet, but it didn’t wow me.I was spoiled by Crowne Plaza last time. This is no doubt very good, though. The shower spray head looks like a dildo. I could see the mirror from the bed. (This is pretty scary especially after I read murder story at 1am :S )
Ellen picked me up at 1:30pm and we went straight to the factory in Quanzhou. It was a 2 hours ride.
I spent 1 hour looking over and taking pictures of the stuff we have in lines. Tried to tell everybody over and over again my concerns like a grandma. Then we all went into another room for tea, during which I lectured again on my concerns I think they could foam. Then I thought my job was probably done.
Another 2 hours back to Xiamen and at 7:30pm Ellen and I were in the hotel room washing face, ready for dinner.
I hadn;t had any decent meal the whole day so we went to a Hunan restaurant. They had fantastic soup that one can’t easily find in Gz.
After that I was back to hotel and took a shower.Went down to lobby bar and had a Mai Tai.Came back up to my room and did a facial mask+brushed my teeth before I continued with “5 little pigs”. I was a bit passed 1 am when I turned the last page. I probably didn’t fall asleep before 3am, because I neurotically checked on that mirror every once in a while. :S
Traveling is the best time for reading. I should have brought a brand-new book instead a half-read. The next day there was nothing to read while waiting, although I slept till 11:30am.
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09.25.09
Posted in Main Page at 2:56 pm by Tammy
Why do guys whistle to young girls but not to mature women?
If I let my hair loose and be my normal self, I’d just be one of the busy-looking passers-by. If I wear mini skirt and 2 ponytails, I hear whistles and street teasing. (In one chapter of Will&Grace, Jack said:”No grown-up woman should be allowed to wear 2 ponytails”. And Gordo said it’s pretty stupid.–But it’s a good idea if one doesn’t wash her hair before going out!).
I guess guys have the guts to tease women only if they are sure there will be no embarrassment caused to themselves or counter-reaction from the women. That’s why the object is always teenager girls. If a mature woman turns and challenges them:”What you gonna do?” They’d be speechless or just flee.
This makes me remember Jenny’s husband Chuck’s comment about walking his dog. People would whistle to their big dog when she is not even paying attention to them–and if she gets excited and runs to whoever gives the whistle, they are scared and run away.
I went to visit Jenny(Dance) as planned, and the city traffic was obnoxious!!! On a regular Thursday morning! I would thought only a few dozen people had this “privilege” to do so, but I was so wrong. In order not to puke on the bus I hailed a taxi after getting off at Garden Hotel. When It was time to pay I found out my wallet was empty.
“No money.” I said.
I called for rescue but Jenny was not even there yet. Saw a bank nearby and I managed to pay up with the money I withdrew from the bank. Thanks to modern networks, I never panic even when I am penniless.
Jenny was in good shape…danced and talked whole day…
I was sunk in the sofa feeling half dead after the long trip.
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09.20.09
Posted in Main Page at 5:59 pm by Tammy
After a couple of crappy French movies, which start uneventfully,develop all over the places, and end irrelevantly with a big “FIN” on the screen, (Frankly during one of which I actually asked Gordo–Do you think the subtitle belongs to this movie?), we finally came across a good movie–M. Butterfly.
I have never seen the Opera but now that I get the story, I’d love to have the chance. I won’t have to worry about figuring what’s going on, just listen to the music and feel the emotion in it and let imagination run wild…I doubt how many people understand Opera lyrics anyway?
Here’s the story of the movie:
A French diplomat was assigned to Beijing, China in the 1960s. He becomes infatuated with a Chinese opera performer, Song , who spies on him for government information under orders from the Chinese government. Their affair lasts for twenty years, with Gallimard all the while apparently unaware (or willfully ignorant) of the fact that in traditional Chinese opera, all roles are performed by men. Eventually, Gallimard betrays his country and is tried for treason, which forces him to face the truth about his relationship. Faced with the unbearable truth that his lover is actually male, he himself takes on the role of Butterfly, the woman who died for the sake of an illusory love.
When Gallimard met Butterfly for the first time in the theater after her performance, he complimented her and said it was a convincing show and it was beautiful, to which Butterfly answered:”What would you say if a blond cheerleader fell in love with a short Japanese businessman. He marries her and then goes home for 3 years, during which time she prays to his pic and turns down marriage from a young Kennedy. Then when she learns her husband has remarried, she kills herself. Now I believe you would consider this girl to be a deranged idiot, correct? But because it’s an Oriental who kills herself for a Westerner, you find her beautiful.”
Gillimard had to say:”Yes.
But then he tried to explain–:”You made me see the beauty of the story, of her death. It’s pure sacrifice.”
Butterfly:”Well yes, to a Westerner. It’s one of your favorite fantasies, isn’t it? The submissive Oriental woman and the cruel white man.”
I was thinking–”Wow, it hurts.”
I believe the seduction has already begun at this moment–because when it hurts, one remembers.
And the movie just become interesting right at the beginning.
Butterfly:”In order to better serve the great proletarian state, I practice my deception as often as possible. I am trying my best to become somebody else.”
I believe he had become somebody else in the end, except what Gallimard loved was the perfect lie. He doesn’t want to know the truth. He said:”I am a man who loved a woman created by a man. Anything else simply fell short.”
He killed himself and became the western version of Butterfly.
I couldn’t believe that this affair last for 20 years. Fake intimacies, fake pregnancy, even a fake child. I kept asking–And this is based on a true story?
And in the end, I suddenly realize, self-deception is the blindest of all the blinds.
Butterfly:”Do you know why most female roles are played by men in Chinese Opera?–Because only a man knows how a woman should act.”
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09.17.09
Posted in Main Page at 11:18 pm by Tammy
Wonder how I could put music in here.
This song –”Nothing in my way”….I can’t get it out of my head!
Wanna poison everyone who comes in here too.
Typhoon brought 2 days of rain, and the cooler weather inspired us to have a home-made hotpot in summer.
Home-made–Jenny’s home.
We each bought some stuff from market and had dinner together.
With a bottle of Shiraz (shared among 3, since Jenny doesn’t drink), plenty of soft drinks, a big pot of food, water melon and moon cakes, we stuffed ourselves real good–ate like there’s no tomorrow.
By the end I couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t even think.
Been reading the semi-biography of an author I like. Strange thing I haven’t felt so real like it from any books before.
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09.15.09
Posted in Main Page at 6:37 pm by Tammy
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Posted in Main Page at 4:39 pm by Tammy
Spent a great weekend in SZ.
Always not enough time to do all though…
Friday afternoon I was listening mp3, reading, text-messaging and talking on phone almost at the same time on the bus. I messaged Gordo:”He is busy having pavement.”
G:”What’s pavement?”
Me:”What about it?”
G:”Its what you wrote.”
Me:”Oh I mean he is busy having meeting. I thought I could multitask.”
G:”Next time message me while chewing gum.”
The truth is, I was listening to “chasing pavement”while texting Gordo. How horrible.
Gordo brought my 5 new books from HK. I think I am starting to collect Agatha.
I’ve read lots of them before, but thanks to my poor memory, every time I read again, it’s like reading a new book.
Except for Murder on the Oriental Express. I could never forget it, cause the whole train conspired the murder.
Oops I just spoiled it for ya. You are welcome.
I hate hard-covers. I like to “bend and break” when I read.Hard-cover is trouble.
I was using this sample size of Bvlgari Jasmin Noir and liking it. For some magic coincidence Gordo picked up this one of all brands or me. Now I have the Rose(which I now grow numb of) and the Jasmin Noir. Great.
This is for a laugh.
The one doing spooning is female.
3 little cats
My dad is becoming a strayed-cat collector. Geez…
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09.11.09
Posted in Main Page at 12:24 pm by Tammy
Feather is borrowed from another Indian
Rest is all mine.
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Posted in Main Page at 12:12 pm by Tammy
Bought 2 books from Joyo 2 days ago and it just got delivered.
No courior charge, books at half the market price.
Pay only upon receiving.
One of the books is even hard-cover.
Oh man…This is too spoiling…
Now what?…got time– delivery at the door–cheap.
What would be the excuse of not reading?
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09.08.09
Posted in Main Page at 11:01 pm by Tammy
Part of the good thing about traveling is keeping a record, be it photographing, or writings. This trip has been completed and sent to memory lane as soon as I finish this travel-log.
For me it has been a very different experience. It was tough and rough physically, not so much as experiencing altitude sickness itself, (Although, at the first night Mira had a bit of fever, and Connie was feeling some nausea and headache. I instead had a couple sleepless nights. It hasn’t been a big issue among us.), but the dry air, the difference of temperature between day and night, my constant yearning for a good hot shower. Mentally everyday there was so much scenery and stories unfolding in front of my eyes I thought my mind just went blank sometimes.
Tibet is a place which the more you know, the more you see; and the more you see, the more you understand. As for me I was pretty caught up visually—no time for any thinking. ?
Our journey has been basically smooth except for some small hiccups like busting a tire on the way to airport, (getting rescued by a passing car without showing any leg lol…) running late, having to butt in an incredibly long security line and some turbulence in the air that made me scream at the top of my lungs. Rest was all good, really.
Leaving GZ—Happy, happy; come back pimply.
The Fantastic four
As I call it–“2 fat ones, 2 upper bunkers”
Lonesome platform—travelling alone anyone?
Departing from Lhasa…oh so many stars in the sky…
This’s a transit. A place I’d probably never come again ever. I wouldn’t come here just to see Qinghai Lake that’s for sure. However, nice bumping into the place!
Here’s a link to Mira’s Chinese blog, where she kept some of her version of Tibet stories. Hey nice writing. Not like mine lol…
http://blog.sina.com.cn/u/1262857437
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Posted in Main Page at 5:54 pm by Tammy
A considerable amount of time was spent in Lhasa during this trip. For me, Barkhor Street to be more exact. I am not a temple person and I believe in “You see one temple, you see all.” I had drooled in front of a budha statue made with 3 tons of gold and was violently amazed by exquisite Tangkas in Potala Palace. After that I wasn’t at all too motivated to see another.
Not going to Drepung Monastery was an act on impulse. I regret it a little cause later it seemed to me that a lot of people had the same impulse,making it a desirably quiet place to go after all.
I had also skipped Jokhang Temple on the 4th day morning cause I had a sore throat I needed to sleep off. That afternoon we were going to Nam-Tso, I couldn’t see myself missing a much greater misery. How could I?!
Potala Palace seen from Jokhang Temple
Lonely Monk
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