Hunger Studies

So this is only thing I've recently discovered but my body need to recarb every three hours.  It's like clockwork.  I probably don't have the biological clock that tells me to reproduce, but my stomach is definitely punctual.  

So today, taking my midterm, my stomach started growling, and to my embarrassment, I just wanted to get out of there.  So I sped up writing so I could snack on some cheez-its outside Haines.  I ate breakfast at around 8:30AM, so 11:30AM sounds about right.  

Sidenote: Being a DEV students while hungry is a horrible dilemma.  I was once watching a documentary on famines in Ethiopia and didn't eat lunch myself, so there was a inner conflict: feel bad about the dying Ethiopian children or bad that I had to slump over so stop my stomach from growling. 


So, in conclusion, I'm a hungry nomad.



Song Playing: For Emma, Bon Iver

Location: UCLA Campus

My Squirmy Wormy Summer

A Hundred and One Days by Asne Seierstad

Nonfiction: About Seierstad's coverage of the Iraq War a month before, during, and after the initial attack.  For some reason, she decided to not use book chapters, and instead divided it into three sections: before, during, and after.  But reading a book without chapters is like running a marathon, and though tempted to quit halfway through "before," I finished the book, cause you don't just quit a marathon halfway through. 

A Floating City of Peasants: The Great Migration in Contemporary China by Floris-Jan van Luyn

Nonfiction: Does an decent job on the topic, but read Factory Girls instead. 

A Comrade Lost and Found: A Beijing Memoir by Jan Wong

Nonfiction: It's part Jan Wong's family vacation and part redemption story.  You have to read about her family vacation in order to get to the redemption/search for a long lost person story, which honestly is much more interesting than how her teenage sons are reluctant to spend their month in Beijing. 

Current Location: San Francisco, CA

Song Playing: Laura Marling's Pandora Station

My Bookworm Summer

I am that book review on a laminated index card, clipped to the edge of a book shelf.

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

Fiction: Well who hasn't heard of it, really? I read A Thousand Splendid Suns, which honestly was a tad depressing of reading material for my Santorini spring break, but I still loved it. I saw the movie when it first came out and finally read the book three years later. So, I cheated on the plot. But anyway, wonderful story and now I feel a little cheated by the movie. Mr. Hosseini, please write more books.

The Translator by Daoud Hari

Nonfiction: The issue with memoirs, especially memoirs on overcoming violence and conflict, is that the reader is never in the position to critique them. Who would dare to say person who survived genocide/state persecution is in fact a horrible writer, who really needs a better grasp of the English language before writing a book about his/her tragic life? Not saying that Hari suffers from any such flaws within his book. An incredible story about the Darfur before and during the genocide, especially his last chapters of his book.

When Broken Glass Floats: Growing Up in the Khmer Rouge by Chanrithy Him

Nonfiction: Honestly, knew close to nothing about the Khmer Rouge beyond the typical phrases: killing fields and Pol Pot. It is a terribly heartbreaking tale. Him does not just give you a episode of her experience of the Khmer Rouge. It is from the beginning to end with every fine detail included, which is almost superhuman to a reader that Him can recall so much detail of such a tragic time.

Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress by Dai Sijie

Fiction: First book I disliked this summer. Dai Sijiw is a Chinese ex-pat who currently resides in France and, I believe, even wrote this book in French. It seemed that somehow in the translation to English (or perhaps, it was always there), it picked up the tone of speaking about China from a very outsider's, Occident on the Orient, perspective, even though the book is centered of two Chinese males in the re-education program during Cultural Revolution.

Freedom Song by Amit Chaudhuri

Fiction: I tried and got through nearly a fourth of it. But Chaundhuri loses me on the flowery and the over-metaphored details.

Global Women: Nannies, Maids, and Sex Workers in the New Economy by Barbara Ehrenreich and Arlie Russel Hochschild

Nonfiction: Picked it up because of the chapter on Filipino nannies in Hong Kong. I skipped over the prostitution and sex workers chapters cause I just can't, but the chapters on domestic workers in D.C., Hong Kong, and Taiwan were all interesting.

Factory Girls, From Village to City in a Changing China by Leslie T. Chang

Nonfiction: Leslie Chang is the new Lisa Ling. And, I would like her job. A journalist for the Wall Street Journal, Chang lived nearly a decade in China, interviewing young female migrant workers and even learning about her family history. At times, I lost track of who's who in the world of female migrants she was following, but in the end, you seem to walk away with a pretty complete picture of the world of migrant workers in mainland China.

The Bookseller of Kabul by Asne Seierstad

Nonfiction: Asne Seierstad met a bookseller in Kabul, realized the circles he traveled in, and asked to write a book about his family. What balls! Great book for Hosseini lovers, but she jumps to different family members at the start of a every new chapter, so you must hang in there to figure out how this relates back (in what complicated familiar relationship as well) to Sultan Khan, the bookseller.

In Progress:

They Poured Fire on Us from the Sky by Benson Deng, Alephonsion Deng, and Benjamin Ajak

Nonfiction: Excited to finally get a chance to read this book. I learned about it when I picked up What is the What by Dave Eggers while in Peru.

Half Way Mark in the District of Columbia

Greetings from the Most-Important-Place-on-Earth (Washington D.C.)!

I am at the half-way mark, nearing 5 weeks. Comparatively insignificant to my other stays, but since my days are occupied with my 9-to-5 job, all things are accomplishmenta. Like today, I experienced another humid, rainy D.C. day. As I stepped outside on my over-air-conditioned office building, I felt the humidity building up to a rain storm, like being on the cusp of a sneeze

when you are consecutively inhaling because you are about to explode. Yes, that. But I had to grocery shop at a Safeway five blocks away, so I scurried in my after-work flip flops to Safeway. But, yes it got me. The sky finally sneezed, and I was caught in the rain in a white blouse.

Anyway, I have not done all the usual tourist/sightseeing activities of D.C. I have been to the Mall, National Zoo, one of the Smithsonian Museums, outside of Congress, metro-ed everyday, walked through Georgetown district, and got some Ray's Hell Burger (if it can bridge the former Soviet Union and a U.S. President together, then I am also willing to cross the Potomac for it). Still on the list is my private group tour of the White House in early August! Exciting. Here I come, Bo (the Obama dog)!

Take a look at this falafel (from Adams Morgan, D.C. Yumz!)

Song Playing: Freelance Whales

Book Reading: The Translator by Daoud Hari

Location: Washington D.C.

It's Been a Year!

July 1st marks a year since the day I set out for Peru!

So, I made a list of things I miss about Peru

• Crazy Cusco Nights
• Alfajores
  
• Dinner Conversation with the Host Family
• My Host Mom's Cooking
  
• Going to Work on a Combi
• Stopping into ProPeru for Internet
• Last Moments of Spanish Class, when Americo realizes how hopeless I am

Location: Washington D.C.

The Nation's Capitol

Hello Nation! (ref: Stephen Colbert)

I am a workin' gal! 9-5 Monday through Friday. Working isn't terribly exciting, but I do get an office and computer at one of my internships. Not bad...

So I am here to talk to the Interns' Rite of Passage. I think it was Thursday, when I was taking the DC Metro to work, that I overheard the tribulations that it seems most summer interns have to overcome. A college-aged guy, dressed in a suit with a leather briefcase, was chatting among his clones about how last night his water cut off, which adds to the no cable, no internet, and potentially no electricity. And then I thought to myself, having spent three nights without internet and only a ten-inch television to keep me company, not so bad, Sarena; at least you can shower... Then, the clones chimed in with their own insufficient homes: no cable, no television, no internet, no a/c, etc. It seems that the city is filled with hopeful college-aged interns, adjusting to the new life of lonely summer living, away from home and dorms and in a less than ideal homes/apartments and making due without the water, electricity, phone, internet, or television for unknown number of nights.

I always thought that growing up had a degree of excitement and thrill to me, but the prospects that you may have to live without internet, television, water, or electricity, I would argue the Pull-Ups slogan, "I'm a big kid now" and say "no thanks."

Location: Washington D.C.

Reporting from Home Base

Greetings from San Francisco!

Pineapple bun says hi too, before its imminent demise.

Ahh! The feeling to be back home with a warm pineapple bun and Vitasoy Lemon Iced Tea Juicebox in hand. Can life get any better?

As an overachiever, yes it can. I have a thai massaman curry that needs to be satisfied... Oh, the tummy has spoken.

Anyway, I've been piggin' out for the last week at home. Since I avoided most deep-fried or similar foods in England, such as fish and chips, chips and gravy, gravy-filled pies, etc, the entire five months has been somewhat of a diet from culinary goodness. So in compensation, I've dedicated my San Francisco to revisiting the world, namely Asian cuisine, that my stomach has so fondly missed. I started off with a roast duck rice, stocked up on Lemon Iced Tea Juiceboxes, devoured steamed BBQ pork buns and egg custards, and dunked my vietnamese spring rolls in pho. Still on my list, korean chicken drumsticks (to die for!), thai massaman curry with rice, a strawberry tapioca, jamba juice, SUSHI!, and more... No worries, it will come to me.

Despite my tummy's worldly adventures, at this point, I don't have any. Yup, landlocked to America. It's an odd feeling that's sinking in. That when I was binge-watching America's Next Top Model, I felt nostalgic about Nigel Barker's accent, as if it was foreign and possibly thrilling to hear. Maybe I spent too much time at Target today and all this America is coming too fast...

Washington D.C. in a week... Maybe if I re-vision George Washington as Simón Bolívar, perhaps the thrill might come back...

Location: San Francisco, CA

American Isolationism

In the wee hours of July 1st, 2009, I posted "Three continents, one year, the amazing race begins" on my facebook status, as I was heading out of the house to Cusco. So..

11 months

3 continents

8 countries

HOME!

Song Playing : Absentee by Emmy the Great (how appropriate)

Location: London, England

¡Feliz cumpleaños! 生日快樂!

Today marks the one-year anniversary of Postcards!

May 24th, 2009: Bored in my UCLA dorm on a Sunday night.

May 24th, 2010: Study for my last exam at University of East Anglia.

Law of Travelling #43

You haven't been to a country until you've stepped foot inside a McDonald's there.

-Law of Travelling #43

In that case, I've been to the McDonalds' of:

United States (of course!)

Italy

People's Republic of China

Hong Kong SAR

Peru

England

Greece

(Almost): Thailand - I stepped in, stared at the menu, and turned around. Amateur move, Chan...

Song Playing: Skinny Love by Bon Iver

Location: Norwich, England

Greece is Best Described as Old

Hello Hello,

Greetings from my post-paper state! I must say, there is something absolutely freeing about being paper-free, even compared to vacation, when my South Asian Dev. paper loomed over me even when I was enjoying the coastline of Santorini.

Anyway, so Greece. 12.5 days in Greece: Athens, Santorini, Heraklion and Rethymnon in Crete. Well, the first sign that Greece is a funny country: no immigration. Nope, I don't have a stamp in my passpost, showing I went to Greece. I do however have two stamps from Switzerland, Zurich and Geneva, which were my layovers. So I guess what Greece fails in immigration within the EU, Switzerland makes up for in immigration checks during layovers. Anyway, Athens. The good side of Athens is that public transportation is so cheap (1 Euro for 90 mins of all modes of travel), but the bad side is that you can literally walk the all significant lengths of Athens within two hours, look at the old piles of rocks, and then have a gyros for lunch. The gyros isn't part of the bad side. So Athens was a one-day affair. Oh lovely thing, since I'm an student in the UK, meaning I have a EU student card, free admissions to about 90% of Greek cultural historical sites. Awesome. So, I walked into the Acropolis like I owned the place...

Ugh, I still miss Stella and George from Santorini. The hotel owners who were possibly the kindest people I have ever met. We also met Sophocles, a Greek who works at the volcano tourist site, claiming to have been sober for two years but was hungover for work the day we met him (?) and made ominous jokes of his past raping young girls... Ran into him twice; don't need to be more acquainted than that. Oh, Christina dragged me on a hike! (with less enthusiasm than an exclamation point) A 3 hour hike that had the option of taking a 1.40 Euro bus for 20 mins to arrive at your destination. I am not one to complain about nature or hiking, but those two options clearly weigh toward one side: the bus. George gave us a red-dyed egg for Easter, which in Greek tradition, you are to have a egg smash-off on both ends, and the one without any indented ends has good luck for the year. So Round 1 and 2 in Christina versus Sarena, guess who won... Me, of course. George then cackled from his belly.... Oh Santorini, those were some pleasant days.

Easter Sunday in Santorini. Red Eggs for All!

Onto the unpleasant. The 2 hour ferry ride from Santorini to Heraklion, Crete. More like a rollercoaster ride. At one point, there was literally a choir of people puking, while the ferry attendant wavered back and forth, up and down the aisle to pass out puke bags. By the end of hour two, yes I was sea-sick, not at the verge of puking, but I did start tearing up just because the ride, hearing and seeing people puke while wanting to myself, was so horrible. We arrived to Crete to see what... old ruins and old people. I felt that I was a bit ahead of myself in terms of travelling. As in, Crete is reserved for 60+ years old couples, wearing khaki visors, lanyards, and carrying a Frommer's Greece/Crete. Yes, Frommer's is the indicator. Old people. Five days, never spent it so inactively...

Crete: Old Rocks, Old People

Overall, my recommendation is Greece is a week. Save Crete for over sixty and in a dependent relationship. Athens, Santorini, and throw in a Mykonos, and you'll have enough seasickness, gyros eaten, and bogatsas (cream pies) savored to last you a while.

Songs Playing: 500 Days of Summer Soundtrack

Location: Norwich, England.

G is for Gyros and for Greece

Hold on to your pants! Greece update coming soon...

(Maybe once my paper is done...)

Back in London, Before Greece

So I'm back in London for two days before heading out to Greece...

I never consider myself a city-slicker, but you can't manage my joy when I arrived at Liverpool Street Station last night with the hustle-bustle of the commuters. How I have missed city life. I feel like I have been cooped up in a small town (of Norwich) for three months now, walking to and from class and around the shopping center those handful of times.

An odd moment happened yesterday. While on the tube, my music player skipped to Regina Spektor's Blue Lips and suddenly I remembered that the last time I heard the song was on the MTR in Hong Kong, probably taking the hour ride home from my grandmother's. And now, I was on the tube in London, headed to Christina's. Made me all nostalgic for Hong Kong; how wish I was visiting my grandmother's instead...

Anyway, I have to head out exchange some money before heading to Athens tomorrow morning. Ahh, I'm travelling again, just when I started getting used to the stationary life again. 12 days, 3 cities, Greece.

Location: London, England

Song Playing: For Emma by Bon Iver

Countdown to Home: Exactly Two Months. Motherfuckin' Hell Yes.

Cambridge

Ahh! Cambridge has won me over! Perfect mix of cutesy quaintness and college town, really meaning ethnic cuisine at a cheap price). For a day trip, to get out of Norwich, we ventured on the National Express train a hour out to Cambridge. It's probably every Saturday, but the city centre was bustling. With hefty, old couples and Asian tourists snapping pictures of everything in sight, student travelling in cliques, wearing their cardigans and sweater vests... The funny part was seeing Cambridge students, I'm assuming, asking around with laminated flyers of punting prices and deals. Usually you encounter those 'tourist traps' in Beijing or Rome, where sleazy, middle aged men with facial hair, try to pull you into a hour-long, exclusive tour, but this time, it were well-dressed Cambridge students, spotting tourists with cameras hanging from their necks, if they'd be interested in a 'winter punting deal.'

Cambridge was beautiful. (see below)

Location: Norwich, England

Song Playing: Flume by Bon Iver

One Month Mark in England

The 31st! The 31st!

Like my previous stays in Peru and in Hong Kong, I now celebrate the one-month mark in England. The sun finally came out from under the clouds, the snow is receding, and I can finally get some vitamin D! Funny to think, that reaching the one-month mark in Peru was such a struggle, but every one-month-er after that has been a "oh yeah" after I look on my pocket calendar.

Nothing terribly exciting to report on about my first month in England. The past week, I did see Prince Charles, who turned out to be a small man, and who honestly lacks any natural regal presence beyond his camel wool coat. But, he is a very nice man, who chatted with irritated, frostbitten college students who waited outside for an hour to catch a sighting.

Despite my constant complaining about the weather and the quirky slang, I have fallen in love with the fact that Britons have terribly food and therefore rely on jars of already-made curry sauces to add flavor. I have never eaten so much Thai Red Curry or Tikka Masala, but I'm not complaining but do ask me at the two-month mark. I have discovered that I am a wonderful cook but have yet to develop an annoying voice like Julia Child or the enthusiam of Emeril Lagasse.

Last week, I bought a half-dozen bagels for breakfast and was repeatedly mocked as 'the American' on my flat. England doesn't seem to have a language barrier, but definitely a food barrier.

Song Playing: In the Sun by She & Him

Location: Norwich, England, UK

Waking Up to Snow

A poor shot from my window during my first week in Norwich. But anyway, how exciting to a Californian and for a person living in Asia for the last four months!

Song Playing: Cough Syrup by The Jakes

Location, Norwich, England, UK

The Highlight of London

On my third.half day in London, braving the chilly winds and through the frozen toes, we went to Postman's Park near St. Paul's station, where Jude Law and Natalie Portman went to in Closer. Cute little park in the middle of London with a morbid, mournful air about it.

Location: Norwich, England, UK

Song Playing: Albert Hammond Jr.

Rerouted Mail #1: New Year's Eve

Written 31/12/09, but delivered 08/01/10

And it’s lift off… into the new year, that is, and done in nothing less Up in the Air’s George Clooney than on a flight. International flight, as well.

So, sitting alone at San Francisco International, without WIFI and bored… with nearly two hours to spare. Yes, I went all paranoid about security and arrived two hours plus, thinking after the Christmas-day-near-tragedy, the security is probably beefed up to the level of personal violations (aka full body scanners) and bomb-sniffing dogs after my strawberry Pocky sticks. But nope. With so little flights going out tonight (December 31st), the international departure terminal even dimmed its lights and taped off closed check-in counters. Security was also one of the breeziest, if not enjoyable experiences I’ve ever had. Not only did the guard checking my passport wish me a “happy new year”, probably sarcastically, the man before me also passed along gray tubs to place my belongings. In no less than five minutes time, I was determined as not a terrorist, just a cheap flyer, catching a flight to London on New Year’s Eve night.

That brings me to, NOBODY flies on New Year’s Eve. I’ve never seen Christmas night, which probably gives New Year’s Eve a running for the least ideal time to fly, but there’s barely a peep in the airport. I think everyone has embodied a sense of sadness that they’re flying on a night where booze, family, friends, kissing, and silly 2010 glasses are involved. I have too.

Anyway, moving on from my self-pity, LONDON! Fine, I’m not actually that excited that the caps end in an exclamation point. Another semester abroad, and yes, that is a pseudonym for another semester of travelling but this time with a tightening wallet. Actually, a coin purse now. The deadly combination of several “cheap” trips and visas prohibiting employment. Sorry, more self-pity.

Ahh, pull it together. You’re George Clooney.
Location: Gate 96, Terminal 1, San Francisco International Airport