Seafood, Chinese style

Last weekend I went with some of my lab mates to Qingdao ("cheeng-dow"), a coastal town which was a German concession in the early 1900s. Its history has provided it with some seemingly misplaced architecture. Because it's on the Yellow Sea, the area is famed for seafood. I obligingly agreed to feast on the fruits of the ocean.

Declaration of bias: I grew up with very little seafood in my diet. Besides the halibut that my brother sent to us from Alaska and the occasional salmon bakes at my grandpa's house, I usually stuck to tuna sandwiches. Sometimes toasted tuna sandwiches.

yes! I can definitely handle fishy dumpings.

and steamed whole fish? oh yeah, I have that down pat.

baked clams? well I've usually done clams in chowder form,
but I suppose I can try these, even if they look like little alien fetuses.

and oysters. never tried them, but some people swear by them.

Despite my mind-over-matter attitude, little could prepare me for the next two dishes.

SEA URCHIN!

thankfully, the chef mixed the meat (?) into scrambled eggs. though lab mate says raw is better. I'll take his word. 

I love being so culturally adventurous.
good for me

proof.

oh no, my friend- those innocuous pink tubes are not penne pasta.
Look to the next photo to see the live organism.

the wriggle. they writhe. they went into my belly.

clean plate club!

Today is brought to you by the letter "Ellemennopea."

Several days ago I attended the World Biomaterial Congress in Chengdu (pandaz!) and spent quite a bit of time with two lab mates who also attended. Somehow, between lively discussion on the conference topics, we got to singing the ABC song. Everything was fine until we got 12 letters in, when there was a sudden rhythm mismatch.

My whole life I've heard (each line represents one measure):
A B C D
E F G
H I J K
LMNO P
Q R S
T U V
W X
Y & Z

But the Chinese sing:
A B C D
E F G
H I J K
L M N
O P Q
R S T
U V W
X Y Z

ooh, it hurts even to type.

Of course, I immediately scoffed, "ha ha! That's not how it's done!" It just sounds weird to start the fifth measure on "O" instead of "Q."

But... then I got to thinking about it. In the Western version, you end up with four letters squashed into the first beat of the fourth measure. Little kids may think, "what the heck is the letter 'Ellemennopea'?" At any rate, it's probably harder to pronounce that many foreign sounds in one beat. Then at the end of the song, Westerners have the letter "&" thrown in there, which is rarely seen- not even teens who trim language down to single letters in text messages use "&."

Anyway, this experience was a nicely packaged example of many of my experiences here. Each of us is so used to what we're used to and we carry around years of biases, assumptions, and opinions so that when we encounter something that deviates from our unique set of group-centricities, we're too easily judgmental and dismissive. Really, we could all use some open-minded evaluations of other groups' traits to find goodies.

Though I might be on to something with the letter "&". "The gr&d c&ned p&da is bl&d." It's a keeper!

Bohemian Rhapsody: Looking for the silhouette of a panda

I spent the next few days of my non-lethal panda hunt in the small towns of Telč, Třebíč, and Třeboň. The B&B where I slept was one of many colorful houses (the blue one to the left of the orange/red house in the photo below) that lined the central square of Telč (Telch). The town is a sleepy one of ~6,000 and while much of the income is tourism-derived, when I would get out of that main square it was like I was one among many Bohemians.

Actually, that was one of the differences with traveling in Europe vs in China. I'm sure my American apparel is obvious, but I don't stand out among the Czechs like I do in China. Either that or they're more discrete in staring.

windows of a castle

some artistic decrepitude

On Easter Sunday I visited Třebíč (Treh-beach) and got into town early for Church meetings. They watched the General Conference talks from Salt Lake the previous week, but in Czech. Unfortunately for me, I had no miraculous gift of tongues, but I was able to enjoy the milieu of ~20 Czech Mormons. After the meeting they invited me for a lunch of spaghetti at the church. Not quite an Easter ham, but the company was charming.

Třebíč is a substantially larger town (37,000) with an incredibly well-preserved Jewish Quarter with two former synagogues and a Jewish cemetery. However, all of the Jews in the area were deported during WWII and none live in the Quarter anymore. Interestingly, many of the inhabitants are Roma (often mistakenly called Gypsies), another group that has experienced marginalization and discrimination.

At one point I climbed up the tower in the main square to get a better view.

I was really surprised at how few people I saw out and about. I knew that it wasn't a tourist season (which gave me all the sites to myself) but there was surprisingly little activity of locals, considering it was a holiday. Nearly all of the markets and restaurants were closed for the holiday.

On Monday I visited Třeboň (Trey-bonne). This is another ancient town and was once run by the Habsburgs. Hundreds of years ago, some city planners had the foresight to transform the marshes into ponds for fish culture and that was the source of significant income for quite a while. There's a Soviet-era relief featuring fish above the bank near in the town square.

Like Sunday, I saw few other tourists, but the locals came out for Easter traditions!  One included tying dyed and colored eggs to trees a la Christmas ornaments.

The other tradition that initially confused me featured roaming groups of stick-wielding boys and men. Driving through small towns on my way to Třeboň, I would see three to seven boys, teens, and men walking door-to-door with baskets and switches consisting of braided pussy willows.

After conveying the observation to my sis, Bev, she came to the cultural rescue and wrote that they are pomlázkas and used in an Easter trick-or-treat. Apparently males gently rap females to impart good luck and health, and the girls give eggs, chocolate, or other treats in return and tie a ribbon to the stick. I have to say, though, that even though 95% of the faux floggers I saw consisted solely of guys, I did see one small group of intrepid girls carrying sticks and staking claim to eggs and candy.

I finished my excursion into the countryside without spotting any pandas. But I got a mouthful of spaghetti, a few colored eggs, and street after street of vibrant houses. I consider it a win.

In the Czech countryside?

This shouldn't come as a surprise to you, but pandas are from China. However, when I was told a few months back that I would have a conference in Prague, I decided that I should go a few days early and drive around the Czech Republic countryside to verify the absence of the indigenous Czech panda. The lengths I through go for humanity are exhausting.

I felt a bit disoriented as I exited the Prague airport. Something was amiss... but what? After a bit of thinking, I figured it out. You probably do this unintentionally,  but have you ever noticed that you track the painted stripes on the highway lane as you zip by, and that you adjust your gait down stairs by automatically following steps in your peripheral vision? Well I've become so accustomed to a sea of black-mopped heads bobbing just below eye level that in a country with greater genetic variation, I felt a bit of vertigo as blonde, brown, and black heads of hair swirled around me.

My first hurdle cleared, I made my way to the car rental area. I had done a good amount of online shopping to find a good deal, which lead to a reservation of a compact economy car with some off-brand company for $35/day. Pretty good, if you ask me. Well, the guy at the counter reported that they were out of that class of car, but that they'd upgrade me for free. Ok, so I wasn't going to be crammed into a VW Golf, so when he gave me the key I thought it'd have something like "Ford Taurus" on the label. Oh how wrong I was. When I turned the corner in the garage and pressed the "unlock" button on the fob, I found a pleasant surprise.

I'm not a car nut, but I was ecstatic to see 2012 BMW convertible with leather interior. Oh, and this steed has GPS. I felt very posh as I cruised--at a totally safe and responsible speed--while blasting Czech composers Dvorak and Smetana over the speakers.

The first stop in my non-lethal panda hunt was Konopiště Castle. Originally built in the 13th century, the castle was the last residence of Archduke Franz Ferdinand (a bell from high school world history class should be going off). Our friend Franz lurved hunting; he shot up to 300,000 pieces of game in his life. The hallways were lined with mounted antlers and weapons. Travis would've really enjoyed this place. I mostly had to fight off daydreams of the ending scene in Bednobs and Broomsticks where the suits of armor come to life to save the castle (wait, did Professor McGonagall rip off Angel Landsbury in the end of HP??)

My tour of the interior complete, I checked out the grounds (for pandas, of course). I said "hey" to a few peacocks before finding an old pavilion tucked behind a lake. It was there that Austrian Franz had a lil chat with the German Kaiser Wilhelm regarding control of power in Balkan states. Franz liked shooting animals, but wanted to maintain stability and secure an allied relationship with Germany should a war break out. Unfortunately, Franz Ferdinanad and his wife Sofie were assassinated two weeks later during a visit to Serbia. In a tragic twist of irony, the man who so loved shooting suffered a fatal gunshot wound that led immediately to World War I (that's what you vaguely remember from history class).

Panda count: 0.

Pseudo-panda count: 2 (two bears live in the moat. And Franz had some Chinese pottery on exhibit from an Asian hunting tour.)

Realigning my qi

At ~$20 each in China, I can hardly be blamed for indulging in full-body oil massages occasionally (first massage--solely on legs--noted here). It'd been a while (one month!) since my last massage, so when my friend Taylor came into town, it easily made it on the short list of things to do. After a bit of convincing of his wife to let us go (massages here are known for ending up as "massages+"), we headed over to a parlor in Wudaokou after dinner.

Things went normal- we bargained the price down from 165Y to 135Y (I should've tried harder, I know), disrobed, and got our rub on. My masseur was working on my back when he noticed the "negative energy" in my back (especially presenting as a pimple or two). He offered to perform acupressure, and even though I'm not totally sold on traditional Chinese medicine (my previous experience here), I'm always up for fun cultural events and I gave him the go-ahead. And he said that I'd sleep and work better. Note: my lab mate used to come into lab with welts on her arms and legs as an acupressure weight loss procedure, so I knew what I was getting in to. Basically, they heat the air inside orange-sized glass balls and then place the mouth of the orb on your skin. As the air cools, it creates a partial vacuum that sucks up your skin, thus purging you of toxins and rearranging your qi. (for a demo, check out this brief youtube description).

The guy carted in the instruments, lit a flame, and deftly deployed hungry glass hickey-makers.

 

I guess I was expecting him to place just a few on my back, but TWENTY-ONE fwipps later I felt as though I was feeding a legion of eels. Actually, it really didn't hurt much- just kinda felt like someone was pinching my back fat. He left them on for about 15 minutes for maximal detoxification.

After shot:

apparently the darker welts are sites where more toxins needed to be released.

Side shot:

I always thought I was part velociraptor, but now I'm part stegosaurus.

Sleeping was interesting. As time passed, the welts started to feel more and more tender and now, 24 hours later, they feel like a moderate sunburn. Oh, so the guy mentioned that I'd sleep better, right? Well, I have to say that I had some fantastic dreams: one where I babysat the Harry Potter kids at Hogwarts; another where I--as the "chosen one" of zombie fighters--was killing zombies (complete with moral dilemma of stabbing pseudo-living things. but these things were fiesty and wielded knives); and one where I had a jam session playing the cello (they were out of violins) (I don't play cello) with the kids from Harry Potter (again). Oh, and guitar-playing Tom Felton (Malfoy) really dug my cello skills. Who needs LSD when you have acupressure?

A Seoul-ful New Year: part 5

Well, well, well... we've reached the final day of my Seoul train.

First, a shot of my room that Breda found for me. Even though it was tiny, it had a fantastic heating blanket, was cleaned daily, and only cost $10/day! And it was only a few blocks from Breda and Gio. A great setup if you ask me (thanks, cuz!)

As is often the case outside the US, the bathroom doubled as a shower stall, which meant that one has to employ constant vigilance for stray puddles when doing one's "business". It also meant that I got to shower in front of the large mirror that served as a wall. 

Which brings me to something that I'm sure I won't deal with enough cultural sensitivity: widespread unabashed vanity. I won't be passing too much judgment (I shan't be a hypocrite, now), just expressing my impressions. 

mirror of Erised: Gio sees himself as Breda

Compared to China, mirrors were ubiquitous in Seoul! I suppose it's fairly standard around the world to have mirrors in bathrooms and elevators, but I'd turn a corner and bam! I'd meet my chiral self in stairwells, subway stations, and next to restaurant doorways. I actually saw two women having coffee together when one pulled an ornate handheld mirror out of her purse to fix her makeup/admire herself. Actually, Breda says that she had to confiscate such mirrors from her students.

I don't mean to say that having an interest in one's image is bad. But it was a tad odd to so frequently have the opportunity to check one's self out AND for it to be so socially accepted. Furthermore, I saw advertisements all over the place for cosmetic surgery (for both genders). Although I may joke about getting "work done" in the future, I think that confidence and self-respect can have a more striking affect than getting nipped and tucked. Of course, everyone is free to make their own decisions (and certainly there are deformation cases that in my opinion warrant surgery), but if we've learned one thing from Hollywood plastic surgery, it's that you should take what you have and just slightly adjust it- not get a face transplant (Jennifer Grey, anyone?). Many of the adverts were shockingly extreme.

Breda says that any girl whose family as any money at all will get at least the double eyelid surgery. Maybe I'm just unaware of how often people in the US get cosmetic surgery, but considering that certain of these surgeries are so common for pre-teens rather than rational adults, I started to feel like I was in an Aldous Huxley novel with a borderline narcissistic society.

Okay, enough of that discussion. Really, the people were very caring and kind and accepting of me, but the vanity was a bit shocking overall.

So for my last day in Seoul, I checked out a great big palace. It reminded me a bit of the Forbidden City, but the color schemes and layout were a bit different. However, as can be seen in the following photo, they followed the feng shui thing were you build a palace with mountains behind and a river in front.

the statue in the center of the photo is of the emporer who commissioned the invention of the Korean alphabet.

To our delight, the palace had hourly military demonstrations where "cast members" marched around in awesome costumes.

look- he's playing a conch! Just like in Lord of the Flies!

then there was a guard chicken.

and very cool tapstries

I've mentioned once or twice that Korean palaces have a bit of a different style to them, and the following photo is a bit of an example.

It's never safe to generalize, but most of the palaces that I've seen in China have looked like a box of crayons exploded on their eaves into intricate patterns. In contrast, many Korean structures have a more subdued color scheme:  earthy colors, and lots of natural wood use.



Korea's mythological guardian creature is Haetae:

Personally, I think he/she looks more like Mr. Snuffleupagus than a fierce guard dog, but perhaps evil Korean ghosts are afraid of being licked and tickled to death (....again).

For my final supper, we went to a Korean bbq place. Thanks to Gio's excellent meat-flipping skills with chopsticks, Breda and I had a constant stream of freshly grilled beef to slurp up. It was pretty awesome.

So that was my New Year's week in Korea! I loved getting to see another Asian country that shares many characteristics with China but definitely has its own brand. And it was especially fantastic getting to spend time with my cousin after 14ish years of not seeing each other. We had plenty of "remember when grandma/grandpa" memories to share (though I really should keep to myself the time when I walked in on my grandma disrobing) and had a great time exchanging stories from our respective parents' points of view ("Well my mom says that your dad was taunting her and that she was totally justified in throwing the flashlight at his head when he won the cat's affection").

I have the best family ever.

A Seoul-ful New Year: part 4

It snowed! I saw the flakes falling on the previous night, and moved by you're-likely-only-in-Korea-once guilt, I got out of bed before dawn (!) and took some photos of Seoul with a dusting of snow.

I've noticed that in Asia snow gets swept instead of plowed or shoveled.

park near Breda's apt.

After the sun rose, I realized that my toes felt like little frozen sausages, so I went back to my room and napped a lil. Nothing enhances appreciation for a warm bed like being chilled to the bone.

Breda has a friend whose family sews hanboks, so we stopped by their shop later that day.

Traditional wedding hanboks. The bride wears a pink skirt and green top.
A more modern take is on the right.

During my time in Korea, it became very apparent that many South Koreans embrace modern societies and globalization while maintaining strong ties to the past. In fact, Breda's friend mentioned that many Koreans will have three parts to their wedding ceremony: traditional (such as the pink skirt/green blouse), modern (the white dress with the purple sash), and then reception party.

hanboks for toddlers!

hanbok shoes

It was refreshing to be in a market where locals shop rather than tourist trap markets. Shop owners had food delivered to them by a woman who balanced several meals on her head.

Afterwards we got some nomz (+kimchi!)

man, my legs still hurt from sitting on the ground so much.

My church has a temple in Seoul. In fact, it was one of the first temples in Asia, built in 1981. After Breda and I shopped around other some other markets (buttons, ribbons, and zippers!) and I got some chrysanthemum seeds for King's Mums future collection, we stopped by the temple for a few night photos.

And then, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've been waiting for.... our visit to a CAT CAFE!

Aside: when I opened Lightroom to pull together the photos for this post, I saw that the number of photos taken on this day was greater than 250! "what the heck??" I thought to myself, "What could I possibly have taken that many pictures of??!" Then I remembered that we visited the cat cafe. But do not be alarmed; I've only included a few cat shots for this post. 

Ok, so I didn't actually know before my visit that Koreans had this wonderful and totally reasonable obsession with cats/cat cafes, but I soon learned about it! I'm not sure why the people don't just own cats, thus negating the need for a cat cafe... but then I suppose that being able to get your feline fill at a nearby cafe also makes it so that your home doesn't smell like kitty litter and you don't wake up to the smell of cat food breath emanating from a cat perched over your sleeping head. at any rate, we found three cafes within a three block radius, so we had our pick.

First, a panorama. how many cats can you count?

a cat cafe in all of its glory.

I spy with my little eye THIRTY-FOUR cats. And yes, that is a cat walk hanging from the ceiling.

Now some macro shots.

maybe I can sell this to Cat Fancy?

Breda has a bit of a cat allergy, but she was miraculously cured during our visit! Either that or she patiently held her breath while I rolled around on the floor with the kittehs.

The cats could smell my fondness for felines and they curled up on my jacket! I guess the feeling of euphoria I experienced was what some people look for when they swim with dolphins.