A Life Less Ordinary

Getting the Ball Rolling

evandoran — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 17:43:13 +0000

Eventually, this may become a professional blog, at which point I may consider just blowing all this up and starting over. But in the meantime, my professor just told our class that he saw an aborted fetus for the first time the other day. Luckily it wasn’t on the streets (that may be permanently traumatizing) but it was on a pro-life rally poster here in DC. He’s a kooky but fun professor who has literally no concern for where is his body is while lecturing. His shirt often lifts entirely to far up his belly and his hands caress his hair in a sort of crazy-scientist-meets-potential-molester kind of way. Such is the summary of my life back at school: the daily grind of merciless lecturing where more than half the class is consumed by Facebook or their Crackberry’s and all the while I just like to put in my iPod. I didn’t ever use my iPod, but I got comfortable with those little head buds in my ear because they drowned out the constant noise of Hong Kong. Now they just drown out the noise of the Jappy girls at GW (PS: That’s Jewish-American Princess-y girls).

I love being back in this city. We went down to the Lincoln Memorial the other day after stopping by a party that looked like the cast of Jersey Shore had invaded. I swear I saw Snooki. How many bumpits can one person use? I love the quiet in the streets and the shorter buildings without losing the cosmopolitan atmosphere. I can tell the difference because when I was looking for internships in Hong Kong (FAIL!), I’d see where they’re office is and be like “Ugh, it’s such a bitch to get to Fortress Hill,” but here I’m interested in where the offices are because this is my temporary home and exploring is part of our mission as twenty-something year olds. I also like not smelling those horrid stalls that sold dried out hearts of octopus and flattened skin of leeches or other items that probably made an appearance on Bizarre Foods at some point. My apartment is my haven within the city and my Dad was such a blessing for helping as much as he did. I’ve gotten a lot of comments on it, but my friend Melanie was the best because she finally said that room (for the first time since Freshman year) did not look like an office. Whatever, she’s blind.

I decided to write on this blog again because this past Monday, during our second meeting of the Elliott School Undergraduate Scholars Seminar (doesn’t that sound important?) I was reminded of a secondary use for this blog: a research tool. A scholar from last year used a blog to update and share his research as it was ongoing. He was researching the comparative nationalistic movements in Belgium and Scotland (I know, wtf?) and apparently got contacts and comments that helped him meet people that he then used to meet people and add to his paper. It’s a cool, if weird, way of networking. I figure if I like writing that boring stuff on here, it can’t hurt. What will hurt is having people read these posts, so who knows what will happen to them. I’ll probably keep them, because if my posts start to revolve around “The Successes and Failures of Chinese State Owned Enterprises in Cross-Border Mergers & Acquistions as compared to American Private Enterprises,” (My topic title as of yet) I might start to look bionic. So an update: I just got my first 6 books (my first from the library) and they’re smelly but I’ll hopefully ut up thoughts on those books, as well as my other regular musings.

Happy (One day late) Birthday Mom! This one’s for you!

24 Hours, 3 Flights, 2 Layovers, & a Partridge in a Peartree

evandoran — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 14:55:14 +0000

Apologies for not having been more disciplined in writing to you all, whatever minuscule readership this blog does have I know that to some it is an important way of communication, so for my absence…my b. Prepare for some length.

Cambodia

My pictures from Cambodia are on my Google Pictures account, completing my set of pics from Vietnam and Cambodia. It’s honestly very hard to describe the scenes in Cambodia. Pictures can do magical things, and that often requires lots of time, patience, and an extraordinarily expense camera; none of which I posses. In a lot of ways though, the pictures from Cambodia are sort of irrelevent, if only because the temples that were carved between a millennium and nine centuries ago are never done justice by fancy editing software. Though Bekah and I often felt like we were the freak shows on a Japanese tour group bus, there was an extreme sense of calmness as well as humbling achievement standing and walking over stones cut by craftsmen whose tools were primitive at best. Pre Rup offered amazing views of the lush Cambodian countryside dotted with temple peaks. Ta Prohm and Ta Som held striking moments of beauty when the sunrays finally got through the dense trees and shone a dusty spotlight on some carved figure or deity completely entangled in the roots of a tree older than the United States. Angkor Thom was an extraordinary complex of open fields lined with monuments and hidden ponds reflecting nearby temple mounts. Angkor Wat was superb; as disappointed as I was that the curse of green renovation tarp had mischievously wrapped itself around this 900 year old relic, it felt so amazing to stand there: a Midwestern not-so-country-kid in Cambodia.

I couldn’t have asked for a better travel mate. Bekah and I are incredibly lucky to have parents with both the means and the attitude to encourage us to see the world in ways only really our generation has had the ability to do so easily. I also couldn’t have asked for better weather, clear 80 degree days mixed with cool nights in a thriving and fun city called Siem Reap, aka Angkor base camp. The succession of temples can be overwhelming but it also requires a certain amount of concentration; that of quiet reflection on the miracles of generations past, their deeds and what they’ve left behind. Surely there wasn’t a soul in 987 AD in the Khmer Empire who thought about the tourists who would visit their monuments to the Gods one thousand years down the road. The slow march of time has destroyed much, but it’s pretty awe-inspiring to be able to still climb on fallen stones. It didn’t take long on a tuk-tuk ride through the Angkor Visitor Complex to wonder what life was like here 1000 years ago, or 500 years ago London or 200 years ago Boston. In my short life I don’t know if I’ve enjoyed so many moments of travel in such a short period, but I’m pretty glad to have seen what I’ve seen.

Hong Kong

It’s hard to believe, but my time in Hong Kong is winding down. In about 36 hours I’ll board a plane to Tokyo, then a plan to LA, and then finally a plane destined for the snow covered suburbs of Minneapolis. I couldn’t be more excited. My excitement however, should not be misconstrued as a disdain for Hong Kong. Our study abroad advisors, before leaving, lectured us on the horrors of the “W Curve”, whereby each student experiences a honeymoon, a depression inducing crash, a short period of ecstatic jubilation, another anxiety filled period of homesickness and finally a joyous return to normalcy at home (or at least a less dramatic version of that sequence). I would say my abroad experience has been more like a steady swerving of ups and downs. My current plan is to wait until I’m home to write about what I miss most and least and what my general feelings about Hong Kong and the abroad experience are.

I will talk about my excitement for home. It goes without saying that seeing family and close friends is the most appealing part of going home. Beyond that, there are obvious culinary desires such as mom’s spaghetti, Jake’s meatloaf and the one and only Chipotle. I’m also just looking forward to everyday occurrences that I don’t have here. The sound of car doors closing…and if being in the driver’s seat. Target having literally everything I could want instead of bouncing from one under-stocked grocery store to another oddly stocked pharmacy. Calling friends and not having to make plans to meet up at any one of a hundred points in a city of six million. I’m excited to read a newspaper. See snow. Have currency that fits in my wallet. Sit on a couch. Watch any number of channels on TV without having to look up working links to shows or movies. I can proudly say I’m a global citizen, but I’ve also never been so happy to proudly say I’m an American.

Dispatch

evandoran — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 02:48:40 +0000

Hello all,

Just wanted to let you know two things A) My apologies for not posting anything since returning to HK, I’ve been busy paper writing and getting things in order for when I leave Dec 17…and B) Hanoi and the rest of the Vietnam pictures should be up. I’ll post the Cambodian pics when I get around to writing up on it.

Happy Thanksgiving and Street Wanderings

evandoran — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 15:35:35 +0000

Now that I’ve just arrived at my final destination (Siem Reap), I can safely say that Hoi An was my favorite part of Vietnam. Even though I was alone, the won and its compact 3×4 block core was the perfect to get lost for a few days and feel alone. There were often as many westerners on the streets as locals, which could be a bad thing but I chose to interpret it as Hoi An really being worth it. Hoi An is an ancient fishing village some 3 hours south of Hue, which was Vietnam’s capital during imperialist times. What makes Hoi An so unique, however, is its remarkably untouched old quarter, which hasn’t seen redevelopment (or any changes short of electricity, plumping) for a number of years. I spent the first day getting oriented, buying a rain poncho, and visiting some of the more noted historical sites.
The first site I visited, sort of by accident, as the Cantonese Assembly House, built in 1786 and almost completely unchanged since its construction by Chinese seafarers. I then found The House of Tan Ky, a unique 18th century Hoi An landmark known for its interesting combination of various Asian architectural styles. There are Chinese symbolic carvings, Japanese inscriptions and myths in the design of the courtyard, and typically Vietnamese changes to accommodate the shop-front that the house used to have. I then meandered through the shops and art galleries (a generous term) of Tran Phu St to the most famous of Hoi An’s landmarks, the Japanese Covered Bridge. This bridge was finished in 1593 to connect Japanese traders in the western city to the Old Quarter. It has suffered some damage and was renovated and is still a beautiful landmark, even if it doesn’t really serve its original purpose.
More than the sites, Hoi An is known as a mecca for tailoring all types of clothes, from women’s jackets to men’s ties and everything in between. Words cannot describe the oddity of a scene the main streets are in Hoi An, buildings with glittering Christmas lights and dangling Chinese lanterns in every color. There are bright silk dresses and gray and black suits on mannequins that nearly invade the street. Galleries selling jewelry, laquerware, and of course art are everywhere, catering to a fairly wide array of tastes. I bought a piece of art (My first ever) for my apartment in Washington and I’m pretty jazzed about it; it’s an abstract version of Hoi An reflected on water, but it looks as if Hoi An was magically turned into Times Square due to the mix of colors. It’s hard to explain. Nonetheless, I visited two tailors in Hoi An (wished I went to more), Yaly and Phuoc An. I had the same things made at both, a suit and shirt combo. Yaly was always crowded and my attendant, Cynthia was very nice, but always seemed rushed. The resulting suit was probably the better made, but it was also the most expensive. Phuoc An was much different, calmer and bigger and my personal guide, Cam, was incredibly sweet and helpful. We eventually got to be pretty comfortable, so she was asking about things totally unrelated to Hoi An, like how America is and if I have siblings. She was pretty nice. The suit I had made at Phuoc An was a little slimmer fitting, which is all about personal taste, but it was also cheaper and I absolutely preferred the atmosphere of Phuoc An to the frenzy at Yaly. In any case, ended up with more clothes than I came to Hoi An with, so mission: Success.
More than anything in Hoi An, the pure atmosphere of walking down the lantern lit streets was the most alluring. The numerous restaurants were also a big treat. I sampled everything from ginger chicken on a rooftop plaza overlooking the river and a sea of red lanterns as well as peanut pork rice paper cakes in a little household courtyard mentioned for that exact dish. My favorite meals for the first time in Asia, were actually those containing the local specialties, the “white rose” and crispy wantons. I had the white rose at the well known Mermaid Grille, and they were delicious; basically a series of small shrimp filled dumplings formed into the shape of a rose and it was the sauce that made it spectacular. My other favorite was a wanton meal I had at Mr. Dong’s, a stand in a series of stalls amongst picnic tables near the water. The wanton was almost Mexican inspired, with green onion, chili, chicken, carrot and spices on a crispy wafer. It was easily the best lunch I had, all for about US$2.50.
I think the most enduring part of Hoi An for me was the simplicity of it all. There weren’t thousands of motorbikes through whom you had to navigate just to cross the street. There wasn’t a constant movement of elderly ladies balancing fruit on two shoulders attempting to force them on me for a cheap photo op. I could wonder the streets without my iPod and still feel entirely in my element, without constant noise. The shops all held treasures, even if many of them were replicates of another shop down the street, you could talk to the shop keepers and meet their children and then feel good buying something at (God forbid) full price without feeling you just got yanked around. The nightlife was exactly what vacation nightlife should be, relaxing; with full dinners and a few cocktails or beer on a wicker chair on a stoop listening to fellow tourists laugh or watching the river boats glide by. The only thing that would have made Hoi An a little better was the right company, but that is for another time.

Also, I wrote this on the bus yesterday, but I wanted to add in a very big HAPPY THANKSGIVING to everyone back in the states and elsewhere. Enjoy the turkey and mashed potatoes, I legit just had vegetable fried rice, which I swear to God if the Cambodian celebrated their first meeting with the French, that would be the meal. It was good either way, though I’ve been warned that we’ll be celebrating t-giving again at GW in January. Already looking forward to it. What I’m most thankful for at this moment in time is technology, allowing me to keep in touch with the people who mean the most to me through calls, blogs and other forms of communication. I’m also extremely thankful to have such supporting parents, who not only allowed but encouraged me to run wild here in SE Asia and helped me with everything they could. So it’s cliche, but the simple things are the most important and what I’m most thankful for this year, family, communication, and the joy of being able to look forward to coming back to MSP and DC.

The Rest of Hanoi

evandoran — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 08:45:04 +0000

It’s been a smaller gap between posts than I sometimes have, but it feels like it’s been awhile so I’ll give a not so brief recap. Last time we met, I had just arrived in Hanoi, Vietnam and was thoroughly charmed by this former French colonial capital. I can say that after leaving, I am still charmed but in a different manner. Flashback to Monday where I met up with the largest traveling group from Syracuse Hong Kong, there were seven of them (Elan, Marshall, Tyler, Sarah, Vanessa, Molly, & Amanda) and we just meandered through the city looking for a late lunch at the ambiguously named “Food Street” placed on the less than detailed map given to them by their hostel. Once there, there were many groans of disappointment, mostly because of the grimy deserted street we came to, but nonetheless they ordered food and I had a Hanoi beer (Having already eaten lunch), which quickly became my favorite beer since coming to Asia. We spent the rest of the day just getting lost in the maze of streets and the cacophonous noises coming from every direction. Motorbike horns. Yells of street vendors. Clink of metal shops. It’s what makes Hanoi Hanoi, what makes it so special. Monday night we again used the bad hostel map (Thank God this isn’t the Amazing Race) to find “Bar Street,” which was really three hole-in-the-wall places that happened to serve beer. We proceeded to spend a few hours drinking beer, playing cards and connect four and eventually this game called Thumper which closely resembled a gathering of seizure-prone hyperactive 12 year olds on crack.

Tuesday we woke early for our 2d/1n boat ride through the world renowned Halong Bay. Halong Bay is famous for its thousands of limestone, tree covered karsts which rise out of the water hundreds of feet in the air, creating ideal beaches and craggy caverns. After the four hour boat ride from hell, we got to Halong City, which is simpy the boat launch a few stands selling every imaginable kind of Pringle. Once on board we realized exactly how cold it was and spent the next few hours braving the wind for a top deck experience before comprehending that the indoor dining cabin had this awesome invention called windows. At about 4 o’clock everyone went on a group kayak ride. All I could think about is how we looked like some ridiculous Spanish armada of bright orange and blue kayaks, being propelled by rather drunk Australians and Irishmen. Somehow we, the college kids, remained the most sober people on board at almost any point over the next few days. They’ve been drinking for centuries, so we’re ok with it. Also, we won’t have liver cancer in five years. Bonus! The kayak ride was amazing, warm water to dip our feet in while gliding over the emerald water surrounded by skyscrapers of rock and skies of mist. We battled an armada of old people on kayaks, but made it to the caves and the awesome views they afforded, perfectly framing the karsts that stretched for as long as you could see. After returning from the Kayak, we all took jumps from the top of the boat into the water and spent some time in the water in the dark, which was fun…until having to get out into the brisk November air. I can say that there were a lot of people shivering throughout dinner. The rest of the night was spent getting to know our Anglo-Saxon brethren and listening to rivaling sounds of retro American 90’s pop and 80’s English rocker bands.

The rest of our time on the boat on Wednesday was spent eating, relaxing, playing every card game we could think of (I taught them Golf!) and eventually migrating to the roof deck when the sun came out. This was an especially fun time because it was on our way back to shore and we’d all somehow bonded and the drunkard Ollie (Ireland) led a chorus of Roxanne and then Don’t Stand So Close to Me. The ten of us cunning Americans (Sarah K and Nicole had joined for the boat) and two German rando’s figured out that if we got on the first boat to shore we could get the best bus seats so we quietly darted off the Jolly Roger and headed ashore to get our own private bus back. Once back in Hanoi, we relaxed at the happy hour thrown by their hostel and then some of our group left for Sapa in northern Vietnam. The rest of us had a delicious Italian meal, with bruschetta and great lasagna all for about US$8. Somehow we eventually ended up at an Irish pub (There’s apparently a lot of Irish expats in Hanoi) where they were really excited for the upcoming Irish-France World Cup Qualifying Match (Ireland lost). This is the night that we had the fateful decision to rent motorbikes the next day. Bad call.

Thursday, after sleeping in a bit, we finally got our motorbikes from the hostel and practiced driving a little. The main two instigators, and therefore drivers, were Tyler and Marshall and I was left with Tyler. I later found out Tyler didn’t even have his drivers license. Whoops. After scraping the back of three other motorbikes just getting out of our ally, Tyler continued to be shaky while we were following the renter to the gas station to fill up. Precisely at the moment we entered the busiest and most confusing intersection probably in all of Hanoi, Tyler gunned it a bit much and we spun and nearly tipped over, while tipping he pulled the throttle instead the break and we spun out even more, in the middle of traffic almost taking out a motor biker and bicyclist in the spasm. I couldn’t get back on right away (After a Vietnamese man comes up and goes “You better end this or you’re going to get yourself killed”) and so I hopped on the bike with our renter while Tyler rode with his assistant. After getting to the gas station and cooling down a little, Tyler got some more practice, while I just chatted with the renter guy. We eventually met up with Sarah and Marshall (Who had gotten lost) at the Flag Monument and Military History Museum, both of which were pretty good. We got to Ho Chi Minh’s Masoleum, but it was closed due to “Embalming Maintenance” (WTF?). We tried to get back to the hostel before rush hour, but we failed and we eventually had to walk the damn bike back because we couldn’t maneuver through the hundreds of bikers in the Old Quarter. It was a mentally exhausting day and something I’ll try but never be able to forget.

I’ll continue with Hoi An in a later post, because this one is already a beast. But Hoi An rocks and may be my favorite place I’ve visited yet. I’ll also post pictures soon.

Lonesome Pine is Charmed

evandoran — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 14:32:11 +0000

So we’re all on the same page, I’ve given myself a military code name whilst in Vietnam: Lonesome Pine. First off, it’s the name of one of, if not the best Carbon Leaf song. Second, I like to think that I am pine-like, because if I had to choose a tree, I’d pick pines because they’re from the north, strong, and used for Christmas. My role as lone wolf started yesterday morning before the hung-over residents of Caritas Bianchi Lodge awoke. I arrived at the airport for my ensuing 10 hour journey to cover a distance that is equivalent to going from Minneapolis to Detriot. That’s Asia for you. My layover in Bangkok was actually not too bad, especially because they bathrooms in Suvarnabhumi Airport smell like…well how I imagine Pointsetta’s should smell: sweet and flowery, but with cinnamon and pine…like those potpourris your Grandma always had.

I arrived in Hanoi but it was dark by the time I got to my hotel around 10pm and I just meandered the surrounding blocks until finding a still open chic sidewalk cafe with delicious vegetable fried rice and a rum/coke for around US$13. The next morning I did the tourist circuit, visiting the famous Hoan Kiem Lake and accompanying The Huc Bridge and Den Ngoc Son (Jade Mountain Temple). After a baguette sandwhich lunch (This used to be Colonial France for God’s sake) I moved onto the Opera House (A direct model on the Opera Garnier in Paris) and visited the mediocre Vietnam National History Museum. I eventually made my way to Hoa Lo Prison, aka “Hanoi Hilton,” which was less eerie then I’d anticipated but also educational. It was less educational because of the exhibits, but because of the psychology of the exhibits. Virtually the entire museum (in the old cells) is dedicated to the inhumane treatment of Vietnamese during their resistance to French colonialism, including the guillotine used on prisoners and the rough living conditions. This was contrasted against the extreme lengths the Vietnamese went to show how nicely they treated the American pilots held there during the Vietnam (American) War; including pictures of pilots decorating Christmas trees, playing basketball and enjoying a seemingly extravagant Christmas meal. All in all a fascinating visit, even though I was saddened to see half of the prison had been torn down to make way for a new high rise. The last tourist site I visited was St. Joseph’s Cathedral, the heart of Catholicism in Indochina during French rule. It was an odd site, surrounded by bustling Vietnamese mopeds and people.

I have been charmed by Hanoi so far. It is a whimsical place, with narrow streets lined with alternating shabby rowhouses and bright, almost Dutch-French inspired colonialist architecture next door. Crossing the street is a thrill. I know I wouldn’t be hit, but it seems like you’re darting by virtually every scooter and car in existence on some of the busier roads. There are also lots of street food stalls on one corner and modern, cafe style restaurants on the other. I got a snack from a bakery that was delicious, but then had great garlic beef with jasmine rice, fresh limeade, pineapple-caramel cake and a baileys on the rock for $14 for dinner. If the people and atmosphere don’t make you smile, the prices surely should.

Many of my friends arrive tomorrow and I am hopefully going to meet up with them, most likely to repeat my day I had today. I would normally be against this, but Hanoi doesn’t seem like a city that gets old nor should anyone come here expecting a Rome or a Beijing, with countless cultural landmarks. Hanoi is a place to grab a chair, order a beer and watch the world speed by on moped.

Vietnam and Cambodia

evandoran — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 17:10:19 +0000

I’m pretty excited because in approximately 10 hours I will be leaving for the airport. I will be flying to Bangkok, Thailand for what I’m sure will be an excruciating 6 hour layover on my way to Hanoi, Vietnam. I will be in Hanoi for around 4 days, including a 2d/1n boat cruise through Halong Bay, which is top 5 things I wanted to see in Asia. I will be with a group of kids from my program for that trip. After Hanoi, I move onto Hoi An, a beachside town in the center of Vietnam, which is also known as the tailoring mecca of SE Asia so I may come back with a few new things.Then I’m moving onto Ho Chi Minh City and meeting up with kids from my program again. It’s only a quick stay in HCMC and then in Phnom Penh before I finally arrive in Siem Reap, Cambodia, home of Angkor. Angkor is the largest complex of religious sites in the world and was built over centuries beginning in the 11th. It’s the top 1 thing I wanted to see in Asia. I won’t elaborate too much on my plans because they may fluctuate, but there are some pictures from Google of the scenes I hope to see. Enjoy and I’ll blog if I can, otherwise I get back December 2 and will let you know how it went soon thereafter.

Tituba and the Devil

evandoran — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 11:55:48 +0000

Forward: Congrats to America for passing health care. Now if only it was a real change, not a small step, that would be awesome. Plus, it’s hard to get excited about anything watching Nancy bang the gavel. I wonder if the bill contains coverage for botox? Sometimes I want to scream that no one is doing enough, and then I remember that a lot of the people in congress are unfortunately very dim and therefore can’t do those hard maths and make all those scary numbers fit together in the little box. Yikes.

It’s war here in Cartias Bianchi Lodge. Tensions are rising and it’s all because of these five letters: b-l-o-g-s. We’ve had a rash of blog attacks recently, the garrisons are shaky and the troop’s morale is low. The barbarians at the gate are constantly gathering, feeding off each other’s mutual cruelty and insidious sense of humor. The Battle of Chinese Class was an epic disgrace for the side of emotions, while fraternizing and “bro-ing” out were on the march of victors heading into lesson. The blog’s defenses had been leaked earlier in the day and were hastily defeated in the run-up to the battle.

Once the hooligans had control of the all-powerful computer, the game was all but won. The tapping of keys preceding the decisive access to the web page. Public readings from the blog ensued. The Battle commenced and the leading women banded together in defense of their sister, the author, who was visibly troubled. The readers were quickly shouted down and the battle stalemated. The stalemate was a relief to see after the blog reading Battle of the Lodge Room 1312. I was lucky enough not to have witnessed that gory skirmish, but the battle reports included lots of screaming, tears, and a highly prized MacBook Pro being thrown to the floor.

The reports and finally witnessing the blitzkrieg of internet use in the Battle of Chinese Class were almost enough to make me want to put up even stronger defenses on my blog. Passwords? Moats? Fire breathing tarantulas? I just don’t know if any of it will be strong enough against the onslaught of bros who want to target another helpless blog and do the unthinkable: read it. Oh the horror. Then again, maybe keeping it a secret will protect. Secrecy is the ironic secret of success in this battle; those of us who write do so in silence, not knowing if our neighbors and classmates are writers, or readers. Who can one trust? It took only one blog to go down the road of Tituba in The Crucible, now we’re all witches; 21^st century heathens armed with words and a shoddy internet connection. Knowing there are supporters out there is all we can do, for our personal blogs are taboo as a topic of conversation, as it should be. Reading another’s abroad-mates blog is like a longer, worse version of Twitter, except you already experienced what they’re writing about.

The preceding story was a dramatization of a few events that have happened in the last week. It was also a very real, and in my opinion accurate portrayal of some of the ridiculous reactions towards what was simply someone finding out about two blogs. Public readings ensued and while not kind, you’d think someone’s best friend had been shot and pitched out the window. Good God people. We just passed a health care bill and people actually care about shit like blog access. If the bill the house passed doesn’t make you want to scream, this Neanderthal-like behavior should.

As an aside, we went back to our romping ground at Lon Kwai Fong and there was a massive carnival like food festival. Upset because I just spent HK$20 more on a drink than I should have, we looked at all the stalls and suddenly I heard the voices of angels. A stand had corn dogs. Not like Pronto Pup mind you, but at this point bits of hot dog and a corn tortilla chip would do. I did not buy because it was chaotic and I didn’t want to be the fat kid who held the others up. I regret that decision now because once we had circled around, the stand was closed down. No corn dogs for me. It’s all for the best I suppose, and the carnival was fun. Additionally, I found a new park called King’s Park that is great for reading at in the sun, which I’ve thankfully seen a lot of more recently. Things are looking up here at the Hong Kong Life & Times, and I’m excited to both leave for traveling and to come back. Apologies for the length of this post!

The Light at the End of the Academic Tunnel

evandoran — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 12:59:10 +0000

I sort of didn’t know which of the letters in this posts’ title to capitalize, which is awkward as a college student. Anyway, today officially marks the middle of the last week of the full class weeks period. I don’t really know why anyone had a countdown to that, but I was made aware of the momentous occasion in class today during a presentation being given by two classmates. The aforementioned class was Finance, technically “Introduction to Money & Banking”, but what should tentatively be called “How to Avoid American Capital Gains Taxes and get Easy A’s in this Class.” Our professor, who is also my faculty sponsor for independent study, is a Harvard alum and former Wharton Professor who I swear couldn’t find his own pants if he didn’t wear the same ones everyday. Probably Asian affirmative action, which I’ve been advised is a real thing by my Asian roommate.

I finally booked my flights to Vietnam, with much help from Bekah, who eased my desire to kill someone due to our internet working so poorly. My mild illness didn’t help matters, nor did the 2 hours of sleep I’d gotten the night before. Over the next week and a half I have a Finance presentation on Thursday (We’ve been told he is looking for reasons not to give us 90′s), Human Resource presentation on Friday (where my group of three will present to our two, yes two, other classmates), a Human Resource final exam on Monday, Chinese oral final on Wednesday, and Chinese written, History of China, and Finance final exams on Thursday (what a bitch). Fortunately, I’m not really stressing about any of them because being abroad affords you the luxury of not caring about classes. Unless you actually go to Syracuse. Then you deserve to have to care for choosing a program affiliated with your school. Morons.

My favorite professor, our Chinese teacher Sophia (Or Sophia “lao shi” as we call her) secretly took my class, Group A (the other Mandarin class being Group B) to a late dim sum lunch. She is so funny and makes the best facial expressions. She is a constant story teller and gossip hoarder who literally asked us our opinions of all the other teachers, students and significant other’s in our lives. She is my Facebook friend, which is a little weird because she brought up how “beautirfa” we looked in our “Harroween” costumes…and then asked how many beers we’d had. It’s ok though because she gets beers with us when we go to lunch. So this post has served no real purpose other than a simple update on the goings on here at the wonderful SU Abroad-Hong Kong program.

Zombies! Witches! And Asians Oh My!

evandoran — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 05:32:37 +0000

Yesterday I went to the club-ish area of Hong Kong called Lan Kwai Fong, which has a huge annual Halloween celebration. Arriving there, I was unable to tell if we had ventured into a sleazy Italian coastal town complete with mafia don and his greasy haired minions or if we had been put on one of those obnoxious Japanese game shows with screaming participants. The combination of the two was enough to realize getting hit by a taxi isn’t the worst thing in the world. We got a table at the creatively named Beer Bar and watched the crowds go by, which included

A gang of sparkly caped Asians taking hundreds of thousands of pictures of each other while we subtly threw peanuts at them to enjoy their looks of confusion.
Two over-zealous zombie types who literally walked around as if they were dead…for the whole night. It was ridiculous.
Two rather large women wearing rather small fuzzy neon colored dresses and giggling the entire way up the hill. That was disturbing.
A gang of frat guys all wearing the exact same thing: chinos and blue polos with some initials on them, straight out of Animal House.

I’m pretty sure that the 7-11 on the corner of LKF had the highest volume of any in the world last night. The place is tiny and they had 3 attendants constantly filling up the beer racks all night. It was a sight to behold, and I can only imagine what tonight will be like.