Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Dumplings, beer, sachertorte, schnitzel. Rinse. Repeat.

Bear Necessities...!
Clockwise from 12 o'clock:
* Chocolate Chip roller bag
* Backpack doubles as weapon
* Adapters for European outlets
* Decoy wallet with expired credit cards - yes, in case I get mugged!
* Half a dozen Starbucks VIA - no more undrinkable airplane coffee
* Happy Van
* Prague tour book from the King County Library - your tax dollars at work!
* US Passport, in case I want to come home
* Money belt - yes, in case I get mugged!
* Journal and pen
* Binoculars
* "Black Gold" - last of my Starbucks Tribute Blend for Couch Surfer host/hostess
* Neck pillow

Well, friends, I am ready for Grande Adventure #2:  I am heading to Prague - the one in the Czech Republic, not Oklahoma - tomorrow!  Our Couch Surfer friends, Jan Patrick and Kristyna, whom we have hosted in early July, shall become my host/hostess this time around.  I will visit and Surf with them at Pardubice, an hour or so train ride east of Prague. 

Unless I make any grande detour, which is entirely possible, I shall be in Krakow, Poland, by early next week with a side trip to Auschwitz; and then Vienna, Austria by next weekend.  The return trip may include Brno before I finally reach Prague again, and come home via JFK on the 15th of September. 

I don't speak a word of German or Polish.  I have purposely done little planning, so I am just going to blend in with What Is.  Telling a project manager to not plan is almost the equivalence of telling a scorpion to not sting.  OK, may be not the exact equivalence but close...  I am proud to say I did really well.  I did let myself  check the train schedule...just to confirm that there ARE indeed overnight trains from Pardubice to Krakow and Vienna.  Other than that,  I have basically delegated the bulk of the research to Katie, my niece, who is my travel companion.  A girl's trip!  We intend to make this a Grande Food tour that includes dumplings, beer, chocolate, crepes, schnitzel, and that's just the beginning.   Girls gotta eat! 

I am excited for the trip, of course, but not the "OMG-I-won't-be-able-to-sleep-tonight" excitement.  It is an experience that I look forward to.  I hope to meet some new friends; try some new stuff; drink some good beer.   

I may have to miss you for two weeks, as I am not bringing my computer on the trip.  I will definitely miss blogging, but will rely on my journal to keep up with my writing. 

Would you please visit when I return? 



Sunday, August 28, 2011

I blinked my eyes, and it's been thirty years

August 31, 1981.  

I couldn't think of a more appropriate place to share a bit of my history.  

It will be the 30th anniversary in just a couple more days.  My family immigrated to this Land of Opportunities, San Francisco Bay Area to be exact, thirty years ago on this very date.  Many of you were not even born yet.  Others have already started a career and family by then.  Most are probably somewhere between the two.  All are unique, but with one thing in common:  Everyone has a story and each is eager to tell it.  Through exchanges with others, I learned that there is a fundamental desire in us all - to be known.  We want to tell Our Story, and our story to be known. After all, to know my story is to know me.  

1981.  Ronald Reagan became our 40th President.  A severe recession hit the US. Unemployment rate was almost 10%. Interest rate was cut-throat at 20%.  I barely became a teenager.  These stats were so ingrained in me that I did not even have to Wiki 1981.  Do you ever wonder what's ingrained in your, or your children's mind, deep down?  My parents uprooted the family from a comfortable home in Hong Kong to this Land of Complete Unknown for one sole purpose:  Their four children may create a better life for themselves.  To create their own American Dream.  


Financially, it couldn't be a worse time to move to the United States.  But I guess when the INS said your Green Card is ready, you pack.  Packed, we did. I remembered those early days like yesterday, and I had it easy.  I had it easy because my parents made it seemed worry-free.  Life was definitely far from easy, yet we lacked nothing.  


My mother was a pianist; she was also an educator and taught music, literature, and mathematics throughout her teaching career.  She is a generous, soft-spoken woman with principles, and a backbone that's as tough as nail. Never needed to pick up even a screwdriver  around the house, mom became a factory worker and assembled mainframe computer cables within days of getting a social security number.  Step One on the pursuit of the American Dream. 

My father was a violinist; he was also an educator, but a different kind.  He was an ambitious, intelligent man who could turn any historical events into captivating stories for his students.  His entire life was dedicated to education.  Dad knows a little bit about everything - his interests are far-reaching like the tentacles of an octopus; he is also McGyver.  Among other things, he built schools and taught in remote fishing villages so children could attend school instead of working in the rice fields.  Education was and still is his passion.  After a short month "assessing the situation" on this Land, dad made the unfathomable decision of leaving behind the family and returning to Hong Kong - working in a Chinese restaurant was absolutely no way to make a meaningful living, support the family, and enable us to achieve our goals on this Land.  For years, dad would visit us every summer for about a month, when his schools were out on summer break.  Unfortunately, the sacrifice also meant he missed out on most of the important events.  

Without dad around on a regular basis, we all had to grow up really fast.  Especially my oldest brother.  He became the man of the house at age 20.  Nobody had the luxury of growing up in a green house in my family.  Still, those were good years.  

I remembered everything was prohibitively expensive. We multiplied the cost of everything eight-fold - the exchange rate of US to HKG dollars.  As expensive as groceries seemed, we never went hungry. We had family dinner every night. Everyone worked; everyone contributed. Times were hard, but they were good. 


"We are enriched not by what we possess, but by what we can do without."  
Immanuel Kant, German philosopher


My parents bought a small, humble home in San Jose, CA when interest rate was at 20%.  You might think all extra-curricular activities that cost money would be eliminated due to "budget cut".  Yet, one of the first things my parents did was to hire a piano teacher so I may continue my study.  Not just any Jim-Bob-Joe piano teacher but a qualified, competent one.  The first one was fired within weeks (she must have resembled Jim-Bob-Joe...) so I auditioned with another one.  I excelled musically under Mrs. Jensen's tutorage through my high school years.  She was a phenomenal teacher who was passionate about uncovering and developing her students' talents.  I still benefit from Mrs. Jensen's teaching, thirty years later. That's good teaching.  

My siblings were generous care-givers.  My older sister and older brother - being the oldest two - had extra responsibilities that I would be spared.  They worked full time and attended college part time during the first year - tuition for first year California residents was unaffordable, even in a community college.  My other brother and I started high school three days after we set foot on the Land of Opportunities - he as a senior and I as a freshman.  Day One of School:  A rally in the auditorium.  A WHAT?  There were no classes.  No role calls.  No books.  Just a big rally.  

I can speak with absolute certainty that none of us four ever doubted we would graduate from  college or pursue higher degrees.  After all, education is one of the greatest opportunities offered on this Land.  As each of us developed and pursued our own interests in different fields, we began to reap the fruits of our collective and individual labor.  The journey to pursue education, any education - not degrees - is to become a seeker, to learn beyond what you assume to be true.  To know there is another horizon beyond the first visible one.  To free ourselves from the imaginary boundaries.  

# # #

As I grew, matured, got more "educated", my father's wise words eventually came full circle:  Never forget where you came from.  Never forget your humble root. Never forget who you are.  

My father's words obviously meant more than my physical "origin".  Paradoxically,  to "never forget who I am", I have to acknowledge who I was then, and who I am becoming.  I am obviously no longer the gawky girl with large, studious glasses thirty years ago - at least not the "studious" part.  Who I have become is an accumulation of trials, errors, experiences, love, successes, failures, disappointments and joy. This journey will continue until I take my last breath.  "Never forget who I am" would mean for me to make good use of all the pleasant experiences and painful lessons that shaped me

When I hear people philosophizing on "Immigrant Work Ethics", I would ask about their personal experience.  Most of them were not even immigrants;  others didn't quite know what or how to respond, but it always makes a good conversation. "Immigrant" or not, I believe good, strong work ethics are the internal drive to excel and improve; the stick-to-itiveness of dogged perseverance; the fearless attitude to work hard; the patience for delayed gratification; the value of a dollar.  


Let's get real - I lead a charmed life now.  Frankly, I think most of us do, generally speaking.  I don't eat much, and I certainly don't need much.  I have no hardship, no debt, and virtually no worries.  It is easy to get soft leading such a charmed life. May I never forget my humble root, where I came from, or the work ethics my parents taught me.  

I am incredibly fortunate and thankful for all that I have acquired and all that I have become.  May I always remember that "we are enriched not by what we possess, but by what we can do without."  

When I blink my eyes again, no doubt it will be another thirty years.  May it STILL be the Land of The Best Opportunities.  







Thursday, August 25, 2011

Lovely Seattle summer


How many more lovely summer days remain in Seattle?  I predict twenty six.  I hope I am not too optimistic. 

I squeezed in a little skating and biking here and there.  I imagine my buttock shrinking and my skin tanning, much like the Barbies in Santa Monica.  

I slathered on some more SPF 70. 





Then one day, I was feeling very swanky and nautical on The Aperio, my best friend RaNae and her husband Doug's yacht. I don't know where a boat officially stops being a boat and starts being a yacht.  I don't really care.  I was getting a private Argossy Cruise on the Aperio.  And it was a yacht.  End of story.   

And this was how the story went...

Daisy and RaNae are founding members of the IMF,
the Impossible Missions Force.  You may know impostors
such as Ethan Hunt, played by Tom Cruise,
in Hollywood blockbusters Mission: Impossible I, II, and III.  
RaNae is great with water, and master of the The Aperio.
...whereas Daisy...not so much.  

She prefers to sit back, relax, and work on her
 swankiness and nautical-ness 
While RaNae and Daisy were out on assignment,
IMF Bossman Doug was too busy playing Four Square on iPhone
Finally, there seemed to be movements...
vaguely seen above Mt. Rainier, if you look really closely
"Hit it!!"  RaNae decidedly ordered
And there he was...Osama Bin Laden!

RaNae quickly apprehended the suspect
with much skill and determination


"*#@*&Y#^^$#@%$#^@!"
"WTF!?!"
(Blip blip blip)  
Calm and without hesitation, RaNae performed
reconstructive surgery and turned OSB over to the Authority
Another Mission: Impossible...accomplished!
Let's go get a beverage!


Mission:  Impossible 4 - Ghost Protocol
Starting RaNae and Daisy
Coming to a theatre near you in Dec, 2011



Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The "truth" shall set you free, or does it?



I just read these words of wisdom from a book.  For best results, please read slowly...  

"...That something feels natural or unnatural doesn't mean it is...we mustn't forget that the familiar fingers of culture reach deep into our minds.  We can't feel them adjusting our dials and flicking our switches, but every culture leads its members to believe some things are naturally right and others naturally wrong. These beliefs may feel right, but it's a feeling we trust at our own peril.  

...each of us is constrained by our own sense of what is normal and natural.  We're all members of one tribe or another - bonded by culture, family, religion, class, education, employment, team affiliation, or any number of other criteria.  An essential first step in discerning the cultural from the human is what mythologist Joseph Campbell called detribalization.  We have to recognize the various tribes we belong to and begin extricating ourselves from the unexamined assumptions each of them mistakes for the truth."  

Read the last sentence again, carefully. "We have to...begin extricating ourselves from the unexamined assumptions each of them mistakes for the truth." 

I don't believe this "detribalization exercise" suggests one should denounce any culture or tribal customs mindlessly; to be human is to be gregarious.   On the contrary, it advocates mindful association through relentless and purposeful questioning and self-reflection.  Questioning and self-reflecting tribal-assumptions we have been treating as "the truth."  

My experience suggests serious, meaningful self-reflection is incredibly difficult, maybe even painful.  It requires that I take introspective look at the deepest core, to examine my paradigm, to face all my insecurities, and deal with them.  Only then can the lifelong practice begin.  Since we are to constantly challenge our paradigm, there is no end in sight.  You constantly challenge paradigms and you constantly detribalize, mindfully.  The self-reflection and detribalization becomes a part of who we are.  

I believe self-reflection and detribalization is not for the faint of heart.  True, it is much easier to go with the flow of the tribe, believe the unexamined tribal-assumptions, and adhere as if they were the truth.  But, why live is an unexamined life worth living? 

Our journeys are as individual as each of us.  My tribe may be one of the same as yours but more likely than not, different.  I wonder what kind of unexamined assumptions I have mistaken as the truth about my tribe all along?   And about yours?  







Is this my sign of ADHD?!

I have been on my sabbatical for six weeks.  I feel a subtle shift inside.  Nothing like the "seismic changes" you hear politicians or business leaders often spew about in their motivational speeches.  Mine is ever so subtle, yet ever so pronounced. Somehow I become less fearful, especially of things unfamiliar; and less tolerant of nonsense.  Any nonsense.  And I feel more in tune.  With myself but also those around me, whether loved ones or strangers.    

Six weeks into my leave and I am reaping the purpose and benefits of a sabbatical. I do my best to live in the present.  I don't allow myself the nonsense of worrying what is to come in January of 2012, when I am due back at work.  I am not giving in to a well-planned itinerary to Central Europe and Hong Kong, except the basics of booking a round-trip ticket.  I am experiencing how to live in the present, in the moment.  I honestly believe it is more difficult than most people think or give thoughts to.  Unless we consciously live in the present, our mind often does not allow us to do just that.  We constantly try to gain some sort of control over some things or someone or some situations.       

I know.  Summer sunshine in Seattle tends to make everything seems Pollyanna.  I do not mind leaving my rose-colored glasses on for a while longer, thank you very much.  

I have the fortune and luxury of living the "life of leisure".  Meeting up with friends and getting caught up on life.  I have also been doing things by myself a lot more. Get up and go.  Move.  Do stuff.  Life doesn't wait.  Neither should I.   

I have been home from my road trip for seven days and I have gone skating by the beach five times.  I remind myself that the summer sun will be gone when it's gone. It does not owe us any warnings. I went target shooting at the range.  I went for bike rides. I went to the driving range.  I get caught up with friends through dinners and lunches and coffees and walks.  I joined a Women's Outdoor Adventures Group. And I cooked and I grilled and I baked bread.  I read; I blogged; and I painted.  All in seven days!  I guess if the Earth was supposedly created in six days, my record isn't too shabby! 

Eric couldn't be happier for me; it relieves quite a bit of pressure from him.  I couldn't be happier, as I am doing exactly what I want, when I want.  It is a healthy sign of interdependence that we have always enjoyed.  It becomes extra lovely when we spend time and do activities together.  

Wait.  But I have not cleaned house or vacuumed.  Perhaps that can wait.  May be until the Fall - I have my limit. 



Thursday, August 11, 2011

Home is where your heart is

To a place I belong
West Virginia, Mountain Momma
Take me home, Country roads

Eric didn't seem to mind that this was the only song I sang for three straight weeks on our road trip.  Well, that and humming O Canada.  There just didn't seem to be other songs that would be more fitting.  Besides, I love John Denver.  As Billy Joel would sing, too bad Only the Good Die Young...

I have never been to West Virginia or the Shenandoah River.  From what the song lyrics described it is "almost heaven."  Fittingly, that's where I have been for three weeks, places that are "almost heaven."  

We continued our way back to the States, traveling southbound.  Our travel took us to several more charming Canadian towns in British Columbia:  Kaslo, Balfour, Nelson, and finally Creston - the last town before we would cross the border at Porthill.


 Sternwheeler SS Moyie featured in Kaslo, BC
On Lake Kootenay

Downtown Kaslo
Welcome to Downtown Nelson
Cooling down with a tasty iced Americano at Grounded
Downtown Nelson, BC 
Crossing Lake Kootenay from Balfour 

The Osprey 2000 is here 
Beach front property with private beaches 
Onboard the Osprey 2000 and putting
binoculars to good use


Our turn to board the Osprey 2000
Onboard the Osprey 2000
Crossing the border at Porthill

Camping at Sandpoint, ID
Eric enjoying an afternoon swim
Lake Pend Oreille, ID
My occasional obsessive-compulsive tendency wanted to hang on to every detail: What town was it?  What did the town look like?  Where did we camp?  Were mosquitoes bad that night?  Did Eric swim in the lake?  Was there a lake?  Then I hit "replay" to make sure I remember it all... How exhausting!  I am beginning to recognize - and reconcile - that perhaps not all the details are important.  In fact, I know they are not all that important.  The importance was that I was present for the experience while I was there.


I felt like the Country Roads have taken me to places I belong.  

The border-crossing was uneventful; almost pleasant.  After a short visit with Eric's old friends Tom and Sherry in Post Falls, ID, we eventually arrived home on Tuesday evening, August 9.  

Epic experience.











Sunday, August 7, 2011

5,150 kilometers and going strong, ayyy!

That's 3,200 miles for the non-metrics folks. 

It seems that every time I update my blog, I announced yet another grande detour. This entry is no exception.  It's called Blending with What Is...  


After speaking with the park ranger at Glacier National Park – the one in Canada, not the one in Montana – Monsieur Park Ranger recommended that we ditch the hustle and bustle at Kelowna and head to the country to check out other more scenic routes and smaller communities.  It amused me a little bit that Monsieur Park Ranger compared the traffic of Kelowna to that of mini-Los Angeles.  Who am I to argue; he knows stuff.
New itinerary highlighted in yellow,
if you care...




A more detailed account of the last several days is probably worth the efforts.  Afterall, we seemed to have visited more small towns in the last 48 hours than the last seven days. 
Driving through Banff National Park 
on Icefields Parkway
Another shot of the Canadian Rockies
Heading to Lake Louise

Glassy lake along the Icefields Parkway
Heading to Lake Louise, BC
We traveled through four national parks:  Jasper, Banff, Yoho, and Glacier.  The most famous ones being Jasper and Banff, of course, having world-class ski resorts in them.   Tourists and tour buses were abundant, as were rip-off souvenir shops and bad coffee. Admittedly, I have a love-hate relationship with national parks.  I love that the parks are made available to the masses and for all to admire.  I hate that the parks are made available to the masses and for all to admire, sometimes to a point of commercialization that they might as well become theme parks.  My eyes wanted to bleed when I saw a woman breaking out the makeup bag, dragging her buttocks to the washroom in high heels.  It was completely out of place.  


I couldn't get in the mood of shopping for shot glasses and paperweights, so we hurriedly left the visitor centers in search for a little solitude.  Good luck!

Daisy making friend with Wiley Coyote
Lake Louise Visitor Center
Golden is a small hippie town
- before we arrive at
Glacier National Park
Crossing the Kicking Horse Pedestrian Bridge
Downtown Golden, BC


Bean Bag Coffee
Downtown Golden, BC
Glacier National Park, BC




Fresh meat for tonight's one-pot-gourmet!!
Marmot @ Glacier National Park

Another famous ski resort - bring cash!
Revelstoke, BC

We made our way on the Trans-Canada Highway (Highway 1) to Revelstoke, another famous ski resort who claims to be “Close to Heaven.  Down to Earth.”  
The town was quiet on a late Friday afternoon, but I can feel the vibrancy on a cold winter day.  We stumbled upon a spice shop called Crescendo.  The proprietary blends of spices, exotic balsamic vinegars and oils mesmerized me, and I willingly and drunkenly doled out my Canadian currency.  Everything seems free when you are on vacation.

It is time to look for a place to call it the night; Monsieur Park Ranger recommended the Blanket Creek Provincial Park so we gave it a try.  We had to camp at the Overflow “camping” area, which turned out to be just a huge parking lot, as the campground was full.  When the “facility operator” came to collect our hard-earned $21 for the night, it was too late to cry foul.  Sure, collect something, but full price for a night in a parking lot?  The annoyance somehow reminded me of flying on United Airlines...   

Rip off!  Please pay $21 to stay in this parking lot -
"overflow" camping area...
We could not get up early enough to leave the parking lot.  Continued south and eventually reached Shelter Bay, where we would take a 20 minutes inland ferry ride to cross the Upper Arrow Lake to Galena Bay.  Eric was having a great time chatting with the group of bikers while I did my part to check out the traffic operator and the ferry captain.  The scenery was rather acceptable...


We were the first car in line 


Taking the 10am ferry to Galena Bay

Ferry to cross Upper Arrow Lake
Shelter Bay, BC


Traffic operator

A cyclist group getting off the ferry
Eric chatting with bikers
The Harleys getting ready to disembark

Next stop along Highway 23:  Nakusp. 

Located along Lake Kootenay.  A charming community that used to be a booming coal mining town until the Columbia River Treaty was signed.  This must be another summer vacation/winter ski resort so be sure to bring your own money.  The small, friendly, hippie town had a farmer’s market that day, so we filled our fridge with local vegetables. 

Nakusp Farmer's Market
Charming town of
Naksup, BC

















At the waterfront of Naksup


Waterfront walkway along
Lake Kootnenay in Naksup

Next Stop:  New Denver

The road split at Nakusp and we would take Highway 6 South to New Denver, another “highly recommended” spot.  It is an undiscovered gem, locals would say. New Denver is my favorite small town.  I am beginning to sound like a broken record, but really.  Bring your own million if you want to live here.  
Welcome to New Denver
Backdrop of New Denver
Spent several hours chillaxing at Sanderella
Featuring handmade gifts and delicious crepes
Eric taking an afternoon swim at Slocan Lake in
New Denver, BC
A lazy Saturday afternoon is best spent being lazy.  We did our share of serious relaxing. 


We spent another night wild-camping somewhere between New Denver and Kaslo, off a protected forest service road.  Eventually we would make our way to Nelson by tomorrow afternoon.  But if we don’t, there is always Monday. 


Found a nice protected spot for the night
Somewhere between New Denver and Kaslo, BC

A beautiful sunset to boot
A nice fast flowing creek called 12-mile Creek
 behind us 




My perception of “time” has completely changed.  I no longer have a schedule to follow. 


Catching up on my writing at the campground
Bear Necessities...