tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76803702024-03-07T14:31:13.819+07:00myriad of secret thoughts~~heavy lightness, serious vanity, mis-shapen chaos of well seeming forms~~Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.comBlogger242125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-15865316047892067102012-08-14T15:15:00.001+07:002012-08-14T15:15:51.041+07:00The LogicIf, indeed, there was anything remotely interesting going on in my brain they go through this fancy percolator these days called social media filters. Simple days are gone, I tell you, they are gone.<br />
<br />
Is the Remotely Interesting Thing:<br />
<br />
a. In the form of a YouTube clip? Post it on facebook.<br />
b. Something that would lose its Remote Interestingness if more than a sentence long? Post it on twitter.<br />
c. A link about climate change, green shit, renewable whatevers, and law? Post it on twitter.<br />
d. A (rare) thought about climate change, green shit, renewable whatevers, and law? Post it on green blog.<br />
e. A rhyme? Post it on twitter but wait till Friday.<br />
f. Something which Remote Interestingness would be enhanced by loyal likes and adorably sarcastic comments? Post it on facebook.<br />
g. A rather long nice quote? Post it on facebook.<br />
h. An extremely random attention-seeking thought? Post it on twitter <br />
i. A fragment of a fictional plot? Don't post it.<br />
j. Something to do with family, romance, work, friends, ex-es, bosses, the past, daily life, future plans? Post it on pseudonym blog. Ha.Yes.<br />
k. A neutral nondescript depiction of something not too significant? Post it here. <br />
<br />
Divided, we fall. Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-50561084626212251162012-05-22T12:08:00.002+07:002012-05-22T12:18:34.792+07:00The Children of Desa Indong, Halmahera<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In a
sense, we saw the children before we even saw the island. There were dozens of them, in brightly
colored clothes, standing with their toes on the very edge of the little port,
looking expectantly at our approaching fishing boat. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Our
friend from college, Fitria, had been living in Desa Indong for 6 months
teaching them as part of the Indonesia Mengajar program. Our arrival was an event. They don’t usually get
visitors. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">As soon
as we alighted on dry land, they crowded around us and followed us everywhere. They
ran ahead of us, tailed behind us, played alongside us. They would just look at
us curiously, but when we talked to them they would shy away. One or two just sat
outside on our doorstep, staring at us endlessly. Their main entertainment was
simple: rubber elastic bands. They either
twisted it to different shapes on their fingers, or they made a long chain of
rubber bands to play skipping with. For hours and hours they would play in the
scorching heat of the Maluku sun. Poor
and completely happy. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The
next day we taught at the school. At some point during the “what do you want to
be when you grow up” session, Fika asked them whether they knew what a lawyer
is. Nobody knew. And then she said ooh
well we have a lawyer here who can explain what it is! I stared at her
resentfully. I started sweating a little
bit. Thirty pairs of little eyes were all looking up expectantly at me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“A
lawyer is…” I began desperately, “… well… similar to a police officer! Who
wants to be a policeman?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">One
little hand shot up.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Good!
And what do the police do?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“They
catch bad people!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Why? What
did the bad people do? Give me an
example!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Scattered
voices. And someone said “stealing!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Stealing! Now is stealing bad?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Yes!”
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Says
who?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Allah!”
they said in unison. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I
smiled. “Okay. Yes. Very good. Who else says it’s bad?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Pak
Ustadz!!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I
grinned. “Yes, very true. Who else?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Confused
silence.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Have
you ever heard of rules, laws?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Some
uncertain nods. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Well
the government makes all sorts of rules and laws that people have to follow.
And when people break the rules, they get caught by the police. And what
happens to them then?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“They
go to jail!” said someone at the back. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Immediately?”
I asked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Silence
again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Not
immediately,” I said. “First they have to go to court, where there’s a judge
who decides whether they really broke the rules or not. Because sometimes people are accused of
things they didn’t do, and sometimes actions that seem bad are not always
wrong.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I was
on fire. But only for half a minute.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Now,
a laaawyeeer… a lawyer… a lawyer… reads the rules and knows all of it! And a
lawyer can help judges tell whether someone really broke the rules or not. A
lawyer reads a whole lot of books!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">One boy
was now staring out the window. Another
one was singing to himself. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I
carried on bravely.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Because
not everything that seems wrong is wrong according to the law. For example, is
lying wrong?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Yes!”
they said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“And
sinful,” I added, to blend in a little. “But it won’t always make you go to
jail, unless the lying caused harm to someone else.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Fail. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Around
about this time Fika perhaps realized what she had gotten me into and attempted
to save my ass by calling on our other friend, Adra, to explain to the kids
what advertising was about. Advertising!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">After
Adra attempted to explain “product essence”, we quickly turned the forum over
to Aji, who had been sitting quietly at the back observing everything. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Tactfully,
Aji preferred not to explain his real occupation and decided to tell the
children that his occupation is as an “adventurer”. They got excited as he told
them of the many places there are all over the world. At the end he said, “Do you want to travel
the world?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Yes!!”
they all said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“And
do you know what you must do so that you can travel the world?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Yes!!”
they said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“What
is it?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“Pray!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">After
Aji explained that prayer comes third after first study and second hard work, and
the guest teachers had all finished laughing inwardly, Fitria the resident
teacher could be seen shaking her head at us with a smiling look that said, “you’ve
ruined my kids”. </span></div>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-23146097542189905832012-04-12T09:24:00.001+07:002012-04-12T09:27:54.661+07:00All here.<div style="text-align: justify;">"I can’t tell you how nice it is not to have to pretend with you. I don’t have to pretend I’m not as smart as I am so you won’t find me intimidating. I don’t have to pretend I don’t hate this culture so you won’t think I’m crazy. And I don’t have to pretend I want you, because I really do. All of me. I’m not divided: brain here, body there; body here, brain there. I’m all here. No hesitation.”<br /></div><br />(Derrick Jensen ~<span style="font-style: italic;"> Songs of the Dead</span>)Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-43558722256702763162011-12-14T12:00:00.003+07:002011-12-14T15:42:45.030+07:00Tangent<div style="text-align: justify;">"Contemplation is the essence of story-telling," I say.<br /><br />"I could listen to your stories all day," he says, "but it is your contemplations that I love."<br /><br />How would I someday explain the contemplations that have led to this state of mind? It is hardly a spiritual eat pray love journey. But if you only knew how far I have evolved, inside. It is a thing of wonder. A shape-shifting metallic creature.<br /><br />Sometimes I write my own stories. Sometimes I write other people's stories. In most of the books I've read, there are always two characters. No, no, not the protagonist and antagonist, nothing that bleak. There is always the person who is content to live in a default comfortable cave, and there is always the person who feels there is an ocean out there. Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice. All the Buendias in 100 Years of Solitude. They all rattled the bars of their cages like any normal living breathing intuitive beast would. As for those who have accepted their fate without a struggle, I do not know what to say of them. Are they sub-human? Are they half-dead? Or are they just peaceful? Or are they just coping?<br /><br />I could write stories about the cave-people. With the polite interest of an observer who finds them anthropologically interesting. But socially numbing. Their allure lies in the very fact that their accepted realities are swallowed whole, peppered with either a smile or a petty complaint. And my evolution centers around the notion that I used to consider that normal. Alienatingly normal.<br /></div>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-17638394037605165322011-10-19T13:42:00.004+07:002011-10-19T15:37:41.987+07:00Nobel<div style="text-align: justify;">"They've announced the 2011 Nobel for literature," a friend said.<br /><br />"Who is it?"<br /><br />"Tomas Transtr<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" name="Default Paragraph Font"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial;">ö</span>mer. Swedish guy. Because, 'through his condensed, translucent images, he gives us fresh access to reality'."<br /><br />"Wow. How cool are they in giving their reasons for the literature prize."<br /><br />"Garcia Marquez won 'for his novels and short stories, in which the fantastic and the realistic are combined in a richly composed world of imagination, reflecting a continent's life and conflicts'."<br /><br />"I love it."<br /><br />"Jose Saramago 'who with parables sustained by imagination, compassion and irony continually enables us once again to apprehend an illusory reality'."<br /><br />"I think reviewers have to put 'hard-core pseudo-intellectual' in their resume."<br /><br />"I wonder what they will write when you get yours. The 2046 literature Nobel is awarded to Teez 'who, with her lyrical compositions, softens the harsh realities of those who feel out of place in their own cultures'."<br /><br />"Not bad. Thanks for giving me 34 years to work on it."<br /></div>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-70051104341340793862011-10-17T00:32:00.003+07:002011-10-17T00:39:34.974+07:00Sandbox*<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWnVHHr0RmDqjEzyuO1hA0te2kmwBMzh0X2aafsDUJbddCwUZKxZivCihRBkOta4iRJWKwAixW0Tvv30e4glZ8m-s9gxIVV-cI3QeUViZEGfhyphenhyphenT9XSfZclpeSEUlIrBocN4M8/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWnVHHr0RmDqjEzyuO1hA0te2kmwBMzh0X2aafsDUJbddCwUZKxZivCihRBkOta4iRJWKwAixW0Tvv30e4glZ8m-s9gxIVV-cI3QeUViZEGfhyphenhyphenT9XSfZclpeSEUlIrBocN4M8/s400/photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664145185681198850" border="0" /></a><br /><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">I woke up today and lay in bed listening to the calls for prayer from surrounding mosques. It is the anniversary of the month that I returned to Indonesia.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">I’ve spent a year trying to feel comfortable about coming home to Jakarta after spending a year away, with its impossible traffic, relentless gossiping, endearing chaos, and wonderful tireless people that hold you spellbound, forever torn between love and hate for the city. I’d escape to Bali’s beaches now and then, but it remains just that: an escape.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">I’ve always viewed life as a lucrative sandbox with a spot of quicksand in the middle, which the curious mind will happily venture into, letting itself become sucked into new realms. Or to borrow that famous American’s famous line: the known unknowns. Who knows how many quicksands have led us to this particular spot in life? So often I have ventured into new things simply because other people knew and I did not. In the sandbox the only thought is of yourself, it’s your playground and yours to become the king of the pit.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">I realized today I didn’t really want to crave comfort in Jakarta, or anywhere else in the world. I didn’t want to be thinking of myself all the time. I want to be thinking of other people. Just being useful without expecting comfort in return. Is there ever really such an achievement? </p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">I’m judgmental about giving, brain-verdict said. I excuse myself on the basis that it might be too forward, or allocated incorrectly, or not the right contribution. A few months ago I made vague plans to teach children <em style="padding: 0px; margin: 0px;">pro bono </em>at the local mosque on weekends, and it never happened because I was sure the kids wouldn’t like me. I never give out money at traffic lights, because I’m vaguely sure the beggars are part of a syndicated gang and the money would go to some mafia. I’ve wasted countless opportunities.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">I’d like to give as if it was a natural part of living. I could see that as a sandbox I haven’t conquered, but the thing is I shouldn’t be seeing it as a thing to conquer. It’s not about me, right?</p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">*This is piece is originally posted on <a href="http://the3six5.posterous.com/october-4-2011-tiza-mafira">the3six5</a><br /></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-6535565845602297652011-08-22T00:02:00.004+07:002011-08-23T10:05:00.378+07:00Therapy<div style="text-align: justify;">I've resumed piano lessons with <a href="http://cosmicteaser.blogspot.com/2007/08/saturdays-with.html">my dearest mentor</a>, who has recovered from his illness, coming out of a long dark tunnel with a new piano and a new wife. But the term piano lessons is a bit ambitious. What really happens is that I drive down there and we end up spending 3 hours playing music and eating delivery chicken noodles from a styrofoam box. We gossip and digress and generally pity people with no music in their lives. Like his own son, who prefers software.
<br />
<br />I harbor no ambitions of musical greatness and he knows it. We simply have conversations and fill gaps. When I play a melody he fills in the bass lines. When his melody is about to end I know it: something about the subtle finality of that third note from last, like a bird about to make a sweet turn in the sky, leaving a pattern imprinted against the clouds. I see it, in its invisibility, I mirror it. I come to meet it and make it last a little longer by repeating the pattern, somersaulting in the sky at a higher octave before taking off to my own heart's desire.
<br />
<br />Isn't that the essence of a good conversation?
<br />
<br />The launch of a thought, met with other ideas. Agreeing in the middle with enthusiastic nods before branching out again with new and old thoughts. Harmonized, encouraging, comforting, in a way that is as if to say, "I understand, I know what you mean, and here is what I think."
<br />
<br />"Isn't jazz like everything in life?" he would say, "doesn't it help you improvise when dealing with people and doesn't it make life a little less serious?"
<br />
<br />I really am not sure if I understand life that well. But I no longer needed to say anything. Nothing on life, nothing on my fears, nothing of my insecurities about love, my insipidness at work, self-imposed cages, millionth outbursts of half-baked ideas, thirsts I have no idea how to quench, forever belonging and not belonging.
<br /></div>
<br />At the end of the song it was like everything had been said.
<br />Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-17599062053409161992011-07-13T20:14:00.007+07:002011-08-23T06:26:52.217+07:00Canvas<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwLMm-SvOkhv0sxNIUUDNMMDmks1dn13vxcvGUWWVvediVrURMwAU5KkwTtuT_ErgcIbiKD4KOd_DF_-E53cL7v03tRQ6vwqvndWugBQeHCdCz1kfQSAh2ifc9xlvYiAoQc9Y/s1600/P1210105.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwLMm-SvOkhv0sxNIUUDNMMDmks1dn13vxcvGUWWVvediVrURMwAU5KkwTtuT_ErgcIbiKD4KOd_DF_-E53cL7v03tRQ6vwqvndWugBQeHCdCz1kfQSAh2ifc9xlvYiAoQc9Y/s400/P1210105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628825305078400818" border="0" /></a>
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<br /><div style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">A weekend in Bali can be a blank canvas filled with sketches of your imagination of choice. And when I say imagination I'm not implying that mushrooms should be involved at all times. I mean there is anything for everyone if everyone doesn't mind not following anyone.
<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >
<br />My friend Rio likes to say that most people don't know how to enjoy being alone. I think being alone is only fun when it is a choice. We agree that most people don't even choose to be alone.
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<br />So that weekend in Bali, he and I headed to echo beach, just the two of us as usual, armed with style. His scarf and shockingly stylish sunglasses, a bottle of wine, two proper glasses we bought at the mini-mart, an effective number of joints. The skies opened out limitless above us. I lay back on the warm sand staring at the white cirrus clouds rippling across the sky like the surface of a light blue lake being gently stroked by the breeze. The actual breeze was stroking my skin. The scent was as familiar and comforting as the sound of crashing waves. Nothing else I wanted to do, nowhere else I wanted to be.
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<br />"I wish this was an hour away from Jakarta and I could escape here every weekend"
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<br />"No. It doesn't work like that. It won't be as magical," he says.
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<br />"I wish people would be more relaxed about finding the one to marry."
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<br />"I decided to be gay so no one could pressurize me into getting married."
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<br />He says the silliest things sometimes.
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<br />"I know plenty of married men," I say. "They try. They tell me how interesting I am. God, they seem so lonely."
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<br />"That's because they thought they got married out of personal choice, but really it was a choice wrought by social conditioning. Society expects them to find the one after a certain age or milestone or checklist ... and they are encouraged to think that they've found the one... But they don't think it's important that in order to find the one ... they have to first of all find themselves."
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<br />He says the most profound things sometimes.
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<br />I think finding oneself needs a bit of imagination.
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<br />It's his birthday today, by the way. I think another bottle of wine is in order. We could make a toast to blank canvases.</span><span style="font-size:100%;">
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<br /></div>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-40618721062062883752011-07-07T13:40:00.004+07:002011-07-07T09:58:34.831+07:00.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucDkxgoJLiw0HmMcwbFD9n-UvMDtUpixOsqcoxkmqQr-ZM0DD-Hnjmu8tXeJDgGzcGJzlDF22D4V81_c948WWl3IJNCsjzchng1m5dEC8DdIgbVYSOiw18d6BEETZ5zNzt_H0/s1600/P1170924.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucDkxgoJLiw0HmMcwbFD9n-UvMDtUpixOsqcoxkmqQr-ZM0DD-Hnjmu8tXeJDgGzcGJzlDF22D4V81_c948WWl3IJNCsjzchng1m5dEC8DdIgbVYSOiw18d6BEETZ5zNzt_H0/s400/P1170924.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624641620406763186" border="0" /></a><br /> <style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }@font-face { font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;" >Continue scrolling down for previously unpublished posts on Brazil :-)</span><br /></span></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-75453307321759163372011-01-03T14:34:00.009+07:002011-07-02T13:52:28.527+07:002011<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Not My Final Post</span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;">At 3 in the morning, my friend and I sat on our bed in our hotel room in Dubai, unwilling to sleep. I was transiting from Brazil, she had flown over from Bahrain to accompany me on my transit.<span style=""> </span>It was the final leg of our year in Harvard, the accumulation of a life built from scratch that had developed into a utopic paradise filled with people we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with, just chatting around a table exchanging ridiculous ideas. After the summer started, one by one these people dropped off, went home, said innumerable ‘this-is-not-goodbye’s, turned their backs, boarded planes, and left a little vacant space behind that felt like a mistake.<span style=""> </span>I visited most of them before heading home, in New York, Lima, Rio, Sao Paulo, Dubai, just delaying, just living.<span style=""> </span>In Dubai the two of us realized our time was coming soon. We talked of our favorite moments and cried a little.<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;">I told her how at the airport in Sao Paulo, our friend hugged me for an eternally long time, not saying a word.<span style=""> </span>When we finally parted we said, “I will see you again,” and thought, “I don’t know when I will see you again.”<span style=""> </span>I turned my back, glanced back for a final brave smile, and walked to my gate slowly. Some people were quarelling in Arabic in the queue, a nasal voice spoke in Portuguese announcing a flight delay, all around me the shops were closed and dark. One shop-window displayed bottles of dende oil.<span style=""> </span>I remembered the bottle of dende oil in my luggage bought at Mercado Municipal, and my friend’s mother, her friendly eyes shining, had promised to teach me how to cook Muqueca with it. But we never got around to doing it.<span style=""> </span>On the drive to the airport she had turned to me and said, “Don’t go.”<span style=""> </span>I stood at the boarding gate queue with an assault of memories and tears running down my cheeks thinking, “What am I doing?”<span style=""> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;">In that hotel room in Dubai I asked my friend, “What am I doing?”<span style=""> </span>She was still figuring it out herself. She felt out of place in her hometown in Bahrain. We started childishly complaining, stereotyping, compartmentalizing. She said Bahraini women became religious after some point because they had nothing better to do.<span style=""> </span>I told her Indonesian women only think about getting married. We laughed and decided then that we would be okay, that the future is bright.<span style=""> </span>We decided we would both find the career of our dreams, the perfect partner, and other banal resolutions more befitting of teenagers rather than grad school alumnus. In the end we knew we both had our Reasons for returning, and that’s all that mattered. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;">That was three months ago. In the beginning, there was the uncomfortable scrutiny regarding weight-gain and lack of interest in what I’ve actually been doing.<span style=""> </span>There was the shock of meeting relatives who seemed to have multiplied overnight and sent a cascade of toddlers running amok. There was the ever-inevitable visit to the malls, watching girls dangling their Venetas and Vuittons at a certain angle so as to be in full unobstructed view of onlookers. There was the constant stream of private idle chat on facebook and twitter feeds, and blackberry chatgroups, which did not exist when I left last year. There was a little loneliness among the crowd. There was the guilt of having these thoughts, afraid I was being anomalous, aloof, judgmental. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;">This is now just white noise to be accepted as part of life, like the hum of a refrigerator that you grow accustomed to and eventually embrace or ignore.<span style=""> </span>Time must not be wasted dwelling on past perfections or present imperfections.<span style=""> </span></span><span style="font-size:78%;">After all, I have future plans like everyone else. </span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="">This place </span>has soul, has untrammeled gold buried under the mud, has all the good problems to be solved. My real enemy, as T.S. Eliot puts it, is in the shadow:</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">Between the idea and the reality, </i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">Between the motion and the act,</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">Falls the shadow.</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">Between the conception and the creation, </i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">Between the emotion and the response, </i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><i style="">Falls the shadow</i>.</span></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-30867473392951339902010-08-07T13:40:00.004+07:002011-07-02T19:19:40.413+07:00Ipanema<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWy-ohqxpIhBKF4FR0Nb0Qw6gI9hCkI0cvuvh4riK4uw21KUHIsoTeDy5kI-rmHUx6M0SV8S8mlPY9Shrj3P7wrN3p6-TV6oxaTAhZTIOKcs5dpZwGLf8c3Z1WZAweBoljwDPg/s1600/P1170647.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWy-ohqxpIhBKF4FR0Nb0Qw6gI9hCkI0cvuvh4riK4uw21KUHIsoTeDy5kI-rmHUx6M0SV8S8mlPY9Shrj3P7wrN3p6-TV6oxaTAhZTIOKcs5dpZwGLf8c3Z1WZAweBoljwDPg/s400/P1170647.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624641927829264898" border="0" /></a><br /> <style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }@font-face { font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">It was a brilliant Wednesday morning in Rio de Janeiro, and Ipanema beach was packed.<span style=""> </span>A long stretch of white sand covered in red umbrellas, fleshy bosoms and shapely bottoms.<span style=""> </span>I asked my friend whether all these cariocas didn’t have anything busy to do and he just smiled an amused smile. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">A man suddenly appeared out of nowhere and advanced at me with a pineapple in his hand, shouting: “HA!!<span style=""> </span>Abacaxi!!<span style=""> </span>Abacaxi !!!” Pineapples were arranged in a basket on his head, and a whole pineapple was clenched like a sword in his fist.<span style=""> </span>I jumped at first poke.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">And then I burst out laughing and shook my head.<span style=""> </span>“Não, obrigada,” I said. <span style=""> </span>He switched to English, which always annoys me because that means I still haven’t got the accent right.<span style=""> </span>Flashing his brilliant white teeth he said, “No?? I Love You!!! No abacaxi?? ” </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">I laughed again and shook my head.<span style=""> </span>He gaily turned away and started to poke at other people with the abacaxi in his hand, causing outbreaks of laughter in his wake. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">As we continued our stroll my friend pointed to one of the condominiums lining the coast.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“That’s my grandmother’s apartment,” he said, “8<sup>th</sup> floor, 3<sup>rd</sup> window from the right.”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">I squinted up and tried to count windows in the blaring sun.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“That would be a gorgeous view she would have from up there,” I said.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“It is,” he said.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">He stared out toward the sea.<span style=""> </span>Cracked up into a sudden laugh. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“When I was a kid I would play at the beach every single day with my friends after school, just hanging out and swimming and surfing the waves.<span style=""> </span>And I still had a curfew back then.”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“Which you largely ignored,” I said. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“Of course.<span style=""> </span>But not for long, because whenever I went too far beyond the limit, my grandmother would hang a big red towel on her window right there.<span style=""> </span>From wherever I am on the beach I would see it and feel guilty.”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">I was immediately overwhelmed with a comforting certainty that he was the perfect authority to go exploring Ipanema with.<span style=""> </span>We spent an entire day on the beach and I was taught a multitude of effortless lessons.<span style=""> </span>Like how to differentiate the “safer” locals from those coming down from the favelas.<span style=""> </span>How to ask a stranger to look after your belongings while you go for a swim, and to trust them completely.<span style=""> </span>How to bodysurf when the wave is right. <span style=""> </span>How to let your body dry in the sun and never use a towel.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">How to stand as if your only business in this world is to look cool under the sun. And how to walk as if the only place you needed to go to was where you were right now.<span style=""></span></span></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-14003338795585502822010-08-07T09:42:00.000+07:002011-07-07T09:43:29.117+07:00Denada<p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">The Portuguese term for “you’re welcome” that is pronounced Ji-Na-Da.<span style=""> </span>In a literal sense it translates to “for nothing”.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">‘Thank you.”</span></p><div face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“For nothing!” (with an audible smile)</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">But the way the Brazilians express it is a charm that far surpasses the mere meaning of the word.<span style=""> </span>The middle “Na” part of the word is stretched out and curved, like the gentle pull of a guitar string just before it is plucked. The prolonged syllable dips and rises and dips again with a mellowness, enjoying every minute of the millisecond journey, before it swoops to join its next syllable.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Denaaada</span>.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Oh, what a difference a syllable makes.<span style=""> </span>The result is a sound so genuine, lilting, and bright, that you can’t help but be convinced that they are, as a matter of bottom-hearted fact, truly happy to have helped you. </span></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-22921040778013002632010-08-05T13:39:00.003+07:002011-07-02T14:07:36.807+07:00Democraticos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQ5oX0s3luJm0cBG8fHhuPrfENNPG3srJZVkdDjGTBRBc9CAU0wT7-UNLlDKyh4kbDdlkQkfqNnJYG-bv6CHrr_fG52T1yFf-vnWfMkhqlyMHRXbK5o_vgKqKSJE5RjoMDlcr/s1600/P1170614.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQ5oX0s3luJm0cBG8fHhuPrfENNPG3srJZVkdDjGTBRBc9CAU0wT7-UNLlDKyh4kbDdlkQkfqNnJYG-bv6CHrr_fG52T1yFf-vnWfMkhqlyMHRXbK5o_vgKqKSJE5RjoMDlcr/s400/P1170614.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624642260602635346" border="0" /></a><br /> <style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }@font-face { font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“I have no partner,” I said, when my friend suggested that I join him and his girlfriend go dancing at a traditional samba club. <span style=""> </span>He gave me an exasperated look that could only mean, “shut up and just come”.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">So I tagged along with them to Democraticos at the old bohemian Lapa neighborhood. <span style=""> </span>The spacious lobby was unadorned except for a big curving staircase lined with a dirty wall. We went up and found ourselves in a large scruffy crowded ballroom, with a stage on one end covered in a red velvet backdrop and a trail of little hanging light bulbs.<span style=""> </span>I looked at the scene doubtfully and wondered where the music was. <span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Just then the band walked up to the stage and the crowd perked up expectantly.<span style=""> </span>At the strike of the first sweet samba note the couple took hands and left me to survive on my own, those traitors.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">I stood on the peripheries feeling rather nervous and unattractive, watching people whirl by.<span style=""> </span>But a few minutes later the music seeped into my bloodstream (mixing with the caipirinha) and I was moving, uncaring, and ready. <span style=""> </span>By the next song, a quiet-looking man approached and politely extended his hand.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>In a flustered daft moment I did a little bob while taking his hand and then vaguely wondered whether that wasn’t European.<span style=""> </span>In the next split second my worries had disappeared as he placed a hand firmly on my waist and pulled me into the music. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">An hour later, I’d lost count of how many people I had danced with; young and old, short and tall, expert and amateur, polite and dodgy.<span style=""> </span>As each song stopped, there was the awkward pause in which we decide whether to do another song, whether I would be declined from the next song, or whether I would decline him and move on to others.<span style=""> </span>All three situations occurred in rough measure.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">The most flattering moments were on being asked, incredulously, “You’re not a Brasileira?” And the most humbling moments were on being told to “Relax. Let me do the job. Let yourself go.”<span style=""> </span>- which I miserably failed to do because he was beyond my crappy league.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">When I rejoined my friends they said they were proud of me.<span style=""> </span>I was exhausted and glowing.</span></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-25748255435834995112010-08-04T13:38:00.003+07:002011-07-02T18:26:09.258+07:00Futebol<style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }@font-face { font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">From where the three of us sat, we could see the smooth oval shape of the entire stadium swelling out before us like a huge beast.<span style=""> </span>And the beast was alive. </span></p><div face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">That is, half of it was. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">The left and middle, where we sat, was filled with a sea of white and green visual noise. Pom-poms and balloons and giant inflatable batons everywhere brandished proudly by supporters of the home team, Palmeiras. The right side was empty except for a few ridiculously outnumbered red and yellows. <span style=""> </span>But they firmly stood their minority ground and kept the drums beating. Pounding them with a samba beat. The sky was gloomy, and the crowd was as passionate as a brilliant summer day. <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>It is impossible to sit in the middle of this and not become infected by the energy, unless you are a vegetable. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">My friend’s uncle, however, did seem oblivious to all this. He sat hunched with a portable radio pressed against his ear and his eyes glued to the field. His brow frowned in concentration, straining to hear the radio commentators analyzing the game. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Vendors weaved in and out of the crowd, selling cans of guarana and long cinnamon churros and chocolate bars.<span style=""> </span>M&M’s too, which I buy obsessively, simply to have an excuse to pronounce the brand the Brazilian way: emmy emmy.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“Emmy emmy, por favor!”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">A little, cute, sweet-looking boy who looked 8 years old didn’t even notice as the vendor elbowed him aside to give me my emmy emmy’s. <span style=""> </span>His little face was contorted with frustration at the striker. He suddenly jumped up and down and shouted at the top of his lungs this one-breath phrase that can be translated for all intents and purposes to mean: </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“SHIT AND GO FUCK YOURSELF, ASSHOLE!”<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">The crowd swelled in an outburst of dirty language. I happily joined in.<span style=""> </span>The São Paulo home team lost.<span style=""> </span>The crowd became noisily subdued. The shoulders dejected and drooping. The pom-poms abandoned. Only the uncle stayed loyal to his portable radio, intent on listening to commentators analyzing the finished game for another hour or so.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">As for myself, I was in high spirits.<span style=""> </span>I grinned at my friend.<span style=""> </span>He looked at me and smiled in a smug way.<span style=""> </span>“See? What did I tell you.” he said.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">The thing he had told me was “You’re in Brazil. Come to a football game.”</span></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-71906482585953396212010-08-04T13:33:00.005+07:002011-07-02T18:33:10.651+07:00Balada<style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }@font-face { font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Here was my night out in São Paulo in the local lingo, more or less. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">We went to go <span style="font-style: italic;">balada</span> and came home at <span style="font-style: italic;">madrugada</span>.<span style=""> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">Balada</span> expansively refers to going out, dancing, drinking, clubbing, having fun and everything in between.<span style=""> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">Madrugada</span> is an undefined time on the clock that refers to the wee hours of the morning when you stumble home half-consciously. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">In preparing for <span style="font-style: italic;">balada</span> I dressed up to the nines in a little black dress.<span style=""> </span>Coming out from my room I was accosted by my host’s brother’s fiancé. She took the hem of my knee-length dress and reprimanded me, saying “Teez!! I will cut all your skirts! They are all too long!”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Her fiancé came out and rescued me by the arm.<span style=""> </span>Only to draw me aside and teach me a song I should be singing tonight to impress people.<span style=""> </span>It started along the lines of<span style=""> </span>“If you think that <span style="font-style: italic;">chachaça</span> is water, <span style="font-style: italic;">cachaça</span> is not water, no.” <span style="font-style: italic;">Cachaça</span> is the national Brazilian liquor that is quite deliciously lethal. The tune was catchy and sure enough, I was an instant hit. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">We hopped three different places and were enthusiastically thirsty.<span style=""> </span>When we had ordered enough to sufficiently be categorized as “a lot”, we got ourselves a <span style="font-style: italic;">saidera</span>, which is the free round that bar-owners always give to good customers as a token of appreciation. I became <span style="font-style: italic;">bebada</span>, which happens when you have too much to drink.<span style=""> </span>And the next day I had a <span style="font-style: italic;">ressaca</span>, which happens when you wake up after having too much to drink. <span style=""> </span>When I informed my host’s parents of my <span style="font-style: italic;">ressaca</span> in the morning they laughed happily.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">In order to cure this <span style="font-style: italic;">ressaca</span> the traditional way, my friends took me to Mercado Municipal, the municipal market, for breakfast.<span style=""> </span>We started our late day drinking <span style="font-style: italic;">Chopp</span>, a smooth light beer with froth like no other froth on earth. A little bit suspiciously, the more I drank my <span style="font-style: italic;">Chopp</span> the more my <span style="font-style: italic;">ressaca</span> faded. But the point is, how can you not love a country where people drink beer at the market for breakfast to cure hangovers?</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">I felt ready for anything.<span style=""> </span>Including the hot fresh <span style="font-style: italic;">bolinha de bacalhau</span> which came shortly to our table. A deep-fried bread-crumbed crispy heavenly something stuffed with shredded <span style="font-style: italic;">bacalhau</span> fish and drizzled with a zing of <span style="font-style: italic;">limão</span> juice.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Afterwards my host took me to see the symphony orchestra at Sala São Paulo. We carried a red plastic bag full of passion fruit and mangoes and <span style="font-style: italic;">dende</span> oil we bought at the market, into the elegant concert hall.<span style=""> </span>By now I actually knew how to reject plastic bags by saying, “<span style="font-style: italic;">não preciso um <span style="font-weight: bold;">sacola de plastico</span>, obrigada</span>”.<span style=""> </span>But this time the volume of our ransom was too great.<span style=""> </span>My friend said, “Now is not the time to be a silly tree-hugger.” Fine. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">So we hastily stuffed the plastic bags underneath our seats hoping no one would notice.<span style=""> </span>But the seats were foldable ones and as soon as we stood up to give our standing ovation, pop went the seats, revealing plastic bags filled with fruit for all to see.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">But no one cared. The orchestra was commanding, elegant and graceful. I love watching a swarm of violin bows dip and soar and letting myself dip and soar with them.<span style=""> </span>This is as much a mental state of dipping and soaring as it is a physical one.<span style=""> </span>I literally sit in my seat and something goes up and down, it could by my foot, or my head, or my general happiness. As an added bonus they played Villa Lobos’ compositions. <span style=""> </span>Oh! </span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">By this time I was absolutely content. The <span style="font-style: italic;">balada</span>, so to speak, lasted deliciously longer than I expected.<span style=""> </span>I was feeling very lucky about my life in general.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">The Brazilians would say, with this charmingly nonsensical phrase they use to describe someone who is lucky:</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >Ela nasceu com abunda virada para a lua</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> ~ She was born with her butt facing the moon. </span></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-71264383232589050402010-08-03T13:15:00.006+07:002011-07-07T10:41:47.986+07:00Musica Brasileira<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq13vVtFdVwkM5dIXEsDyYbTepiIUwInVsYapVTxGgyJ7M6ejDUuQAh0TGl1TV87yoyZCLZuFdiIpSONMj2OUiaUxFetPsfNrPGsJzgnfaGw4fQ7RvhhuFgPrU9YQomPBM1JgE/s1600/P1180161.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq13vVtFdVwkM5dIXEsDyYbTepiIUwInVsYapVTxGgyJ7M6ejDUuQAh0TGl1TV87yoyZCLZuFdiIpSONMj2OUiaUxFetPsfNrPGsJzgnfaGw4fQ7RvhhuFgPrU9YQomPBM1JgE/s400/P1180161.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624642576055192306" border="0" /></a><br /><style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }@font-face { font-family: "Trebuchet MS"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:10pt;" ><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">When I told the Cariocas I was going to São Paulo, they said, “why the fuck are you going to that hell hole?”<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">When I told the Paulistas that I was going to Rio de Janeiro, they said, “That boring place is full of lazy asses”.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">All this foul bad-mouthing comforts me. Cities filled with people who are fanatic about their own cities are cities that I want to be in. <span style=""> </span></span></p><div face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">In any event there was a stronger calling to begin with, which helped me stubbornly defy various obstacles that almost thwarted me from coming to Brazil.<span style=""> </span>I had grown up listening to Tom Jobim and João Gilberto.<span style=""> </span>I’d already memorized the Portuguese lyrics to “The Girl from Ipanema” even before I knew its meaning.<span style=""> </span>Nearing my departure I’d become obsessed with Vinicius de Moraes, Elis Regina, and Chico Buarque.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Leaving the US with a sad pain in my chest, I played João Gilberto’s “Adeus America” to a repeat:</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Adeus America,<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">essa terra e muito boa,<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">mas não posso ficar porque,<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">o samba mandou me chamar<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Chega de lights, good nights, e de fights, e alrights,</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">o samba mandou me chamar.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">(Goodbye America,</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">that land is wonderful,</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">but I cannot stay because,</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">the samba is calling me</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">enough of lights, good nights, and the fights, and alrights,</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">the samba is calling me.)<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">And because I’m a generally lucky girl, my host in São Paulo is a wonderful friend who understood my musical tastes inside and out.<span style=""> </span>And would patiently tolerate my enthusiastic rants, as well as my singing in phonetically ambitious but otherwise grammatically doubtful Portuguese. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Solid proof of this solid understanding was when he took me to O Do Borogodó. The name doesn’t mean anything, I’ve been told, and besides, the name was nowhere to be found.<span style=""> </span>This was a 10 sqm hole in the wall in the middle of a dark nowhere with no sign board, a cement floor, bare whitewashed walls and a tiny red bar.<span style=""> </span>The band was a modest assembly of a guitar, flute and tambourine.<span style=""> </span>A woman with magnificent curly auburn hair sang traditional songs.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Some sat enjoying their ice-cold beers, and others danced even when there was no space to dance. An elderly couple held each other in a corner, swaying to the music comfortably. The lone waiter was also ready to dance with anyone who needed a partner. <span style=""> </span>It was just, perfect.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Really, I could dance every night. On the streets if I must. Doesn’t that make perfect sense?</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">So while you Cariocas and Paulistas sort out which city you hate best, I’ve found a unifying theme to São Paulo and Rio that I can love with equal measure.</span></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-70999809670831381542010-08-02T12:47:00.003+07:002011-07-03T12:05:40.639+07:00Brasilia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKgqbzM3qW5KamSFGmxi9ruZQstdABjbATf0EoREoRbXiGc9jQ7eXtH3BGexwltJ_oD_ph3_R3BOXxyl-0QR7EjjmecIBRdlC3YnAJHZGhcJvwHM2Mwsn02RegjNNUItoLemvQ/s1600/P1170468.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKgqbzM3qW5KamSFGmxi9ruZQstdABjbATf0EoREoRbXiGc9jQ7eXtH3BGexwltJ_oD_ph3_R3BOXxyl-0QR7EjjmecIBRdlC3YnAJHZGhcJvwHM2Mwsn02RegjNNUItoLemvQ/s400/P1170468.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624628652981273394" border="0" /></a><br /><br /> <style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">The plane taking me to Brazil got abducted by aliens, was transported through a quasar at warp speed, and vomited back to a remote southern part of Earth which the aliens had discovered in the 50s.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-size:78%;">I remembered nothing of the inter-galactical journey, but suddenly woke up in a confused state to find myself in Brasilia. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">The landscape was completely flat, completely arid, and completely quiet.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-size:78%;">In fact it was so dry that the grass had a scorched look, and trees gave off a steam of overheat. Some patches of trees were, as a matter of fact, on fire, shooting up billows of thin charcoal smoke. Contrasting against an otherwise spotless blue sky.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">"Those trees are on fire," I told my host, because he didn't seem to have noticed.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">"Oh. Yes, that happens a lot," he said, and continued to drive.<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">In an almost defying way, the landscape in general felt green.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-size:78%;">With lots of colorful flowers. A smooth dark blue lake on the horizon. A stark summer feel. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">But even stranger still were the futuristic alien structures dotting the land: a huge white dome-shaped museum, cubic buildings with gravity-defying structures jutting out of its side, a lone white tower, a church that looked like giant intertwined fingers, a twin parliament building that looked like a ball cut in half, one upturned, one face-down. </span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-size:78%;">Curving walls, cool pools, defined edges, elegant whiteness.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-size:78%;">The entire city was a marvelous architectural Bauhaus museum. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">Of course I later discovered that the “alien” responsible for this is Oscar Niemeyer, the legendary Brazilian architect who designed the entire capital city of Brasilia.</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“Is he still alive?</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-size:78%;">I’d like to meet him. If only to shake his hand.”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“Well it will be a rather shaky handshake because he is almost a hundred.”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“Amazing.”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“He’s completely mad. What normal person would build a city in a desert?”</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“Maybe he finds it cozy.</span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">“He lives in Rio. By the Copacabana beach.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-46318360761949051132010-08-01T13:56:00.004+07:002011-07-07T10:31:46.204+07:00Lachinas<style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">In a “diverse market” where various products come together in a single market and therefore create abundant options, consumers gain an increased benefit of choosing the perfect fit.<span style=""> </span>Following this theory, I have discovered that generally the Latin Americans are my soul mates in this world. <span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">I would even happily sit at a table with them and understand nothing of what they are saying in Spanish and Portuguese. I would let the pretty language wash over me and I would feel perfectly warm, perfectly at home. It is strange. </span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;">I went to Mexico with a bunch of enthusiastic latinas who took off their clothes and greedily soaked up the sun like a sponge.<span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span>One of them, hugging her self with a smile tilted towards the sky, described the warmth of the sun like having someone hold you in his arms.<span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span>For hours they lay on the hot beach drinking mango margaritas, comparing each other's tans when the day was done.<span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span>When I told them I'd rather be white they were visibly shocked.<span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span>They say I have perfect skin-tone.<span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span>They had beautiful bodies but the beach was also filled with lumpy flesh spilling out of bikinis.<span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span>I never was one to admire the naked human body as an art form or as any kind of statement of freedom.<span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span>I've always thought bikinis only go well with good bodies.<span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span>I remembered the tourists in Bali, baring their lumpy flesh on the beach, and remembered how I thought they cluttered the beach and made it ugly.<span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I told them they should come to Bali and they promised to come.</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Back home they would spend their weekends on the beach, or on their suburban farms.</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">They asked me what I did on weekends. They asked me whether, since Indonesia is filled with beautiful beaches, I would go to the beach every weekend.</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I laughed and told them we don't need a tan. I told them I'd go to the movies with my boyfriend, cook at home, or go out to cafes with my friends.</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I told them Jakartans don't spend a lot of time outdoors because it is too hot and there are mosquitoes.</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I laughed at how ridiculous it all sounded from where I was on that Mexican beach.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">We sang telenovela songs and kept a lookout for tanned cuties. We got along genuinely marvelously. All I needed to do was to slather on a higher SPF. </span><br /></span></p>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-78017791137471102072010-07-21T22:07:00.003+07:002010-07-21T22:31:59.310+07:00Drama<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">How can I not love American co-workers when the meeting goes like this:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"When the rubber hits the road we want to make sure we hit the road running."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"But companies are still tying up their shoelaces now, when they should already be taking baby steps to be prepared for when the shit hits the fan."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"Let me poke my head around this and try to speed-deliver then."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"Good. I guess you could choose your battles if that helps, just make sure we don't throw the baby out with the bath water."</span>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-38488417973580396872010-05-26T03:36:00.004+07:002010-06-08T10:04:20.223+07:00Disneyland<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Many years I've spent searching solace</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">On the road, in the sky, on my shoe lace</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The answer, found today and ends tomorrow</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Brings joy with it and sorrow</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Because I'm designed in layers and my face</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">can give you a lie without a trace</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And the unfunny jokes that I pretend to borrow</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Will convince you without frown on your brow</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There was always something out of place</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A smile to fake, a dream to chase</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">No home that was home to the marrow</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Guilt hanging above, a shadow, a crow</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The answer just struck me today: this place</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">was where I could act with comfort and grace</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But life is funny, and one year is narrow</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">it all ends when I graduate tomorrow.</span><br /><br /><object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/r--at8M9tjI&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/r--at8M9tjI&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="385" width="480"></embed></object><br /><br />(See minute 2:20)Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-49474679442080472002010-05-11T08:47:00.003+07:002010-05-11T08:51:48.348+07:00The last mile.Sleep at 3:00.<br /><br />Wake at 8:00.<br /><br />Pack a banana.<br /><br />Arrive at 9:00.<br /><br />Print materials.<br /><br />Sit.<br /><br />Breathe. Focus. Read until midnight.<br /><br />Don't panic.<br /><br />Just keep going.Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-69342513116611418592010-05-09T14:55:00.003+07:002010-05-09T15:06:50.823+07:00On sausages and law<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">After my exam finished I hung out with a friend to relax and immediately relieved myself of that disturbing news I heard in the middle of studying which I had had to push aside for the time being. So basically I blurted out the whole story about Sri Mulyani. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"Congratulations! Good for her. That's an amazing position", said he, who had always wanted to work at the World Bank. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"Yes it's amazing and we're proud. But we've lost the best finance minister one could ever hope for. And I'm worried, because dammit. No offense, but I'm sick and tired of BRIC. Everyone only ever talks about Brazil Russia India China. BrazilRussiaIndiaChina. It's about time it became <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">BRICI</span>. And I think we had a good momentum going with her as finance minister."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Being Brazilian, he grinned wickedly. And then he shrugged dramatically. "Sorry. It's hard to catch up with us." </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"Zip it. We could be as good. Well, should. Should be as good. God. Politicians are..." I clenched both my fists until they shook to convey how politicians in the parliament are. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"They are." He nodded sympathetically. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"And I can't believe they make the law. They actually make the law. This collective force of incompetence who only care about their political agendas instead of the things that really matter. It makes me dizzy."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"Yup. Well you know what they say about sausages and law."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"What do they say about sausages and law?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"You <span style="font-style: italic;">don't want to know how they are made</span>."</span>*<br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"Fuck. That is profound."</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">*(The quote allegedly comes from the West Wing) </span><br /><br /></span>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-35880183468829955872010-05-01T10:06:00.004+07:002010-05-01T10:12:04.924+07:00Completely waffled.Of all the things to be said about this university, this is the most amazing thing:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDP1s3RETPEDxwK98p1JJkOCNSwpi5oT8FU8fAaemhzjt405EwAwqdNyIs9JUDn1F6k0GgIDIVCz9OkG2BHyVtEoAcR_aq3quOm_Sc5rc-tD9AZZqOPjjozNwIiYEvSlVasAPW/s1600/P1040046_2.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 364px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDP1s3RETPEDxwK98p1JJkOCNSwpi5oT8FU8fAaemhzjt405EwAwqdNyIs9JUDn1F6k0GgIDIVCz9OkG2BHyVtEoAcR_aq3quOm_Sc5rc-tD9AZZqOPjjozNwIiYEvSlVasAPW/s400/P1040046_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466133341414946210" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The Harvard Waffle.<br /><br />One can just imagine the administration officers, sitting in their annual roundtable budget meeting, shifting their spectacles to get a better look at the surplus balance.<br /><br />"Hem. So the good news is we still have surplus despite the credit crunch. The bad news is that it's not enough to grant more waivers of tuition fees."<br /><br />"This is very grave. What shall we do with it then?"<br /><br />"Let's get customized waffle makers."<br /><br />"Ooh can we get them with the Harvard crest on it? That would be like super awesome."<br /><br />"Totally."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKpdIL6v336V3BakivElvJLpg2Q9DwaokfIv-JC9EqUNKDtvx_GGI_-bbf0AAWlm6ALcXvuW6IyGl_KonALjehT_-kYXCY2kJmsSO2WRTZdIfL9ZFVCzi4A1CojDbfxQsfkD2J/s1600/P1040070.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKpdIL6v336V3BakivElvJLpg2Q9DwaokfIv-JC9EqUNKDtvx_GGI_-bbf0AAWlm6ALcXvuW6IyGl_KonALjehT_-kYXCY2kJmsSO2WRTZdIfL9ZFVCzi4A1CojDbfxQsfkD2J/s400/P1040070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466132985244908674" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This is the dining room. I've only been here once because it is mostly restricted to undergrads only, which is downright unfair. The rest of us are just muggles, apparently.<br /><br /><br />PS: We've planned clandestine operations to sneak in for waffles every weekend until we graduate. Hopefully the house-elves will be cooperative.Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-60111269337966484112010-04-29T23:19:00.001+07:002010-04-29T23:22:59.652+07:00QWERTY<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The dichotomous distinction between Annex I and Non-Annex I countries is inefficient for climate change negotiations and doesn't solve the purpose going forward, but unfortunately a path dependence on the status quo has made most people take it as a given, so said Professor Robert Stavins today in class.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He then described his hope that future climate change negotiations would vastly improve over the "QWERTY keyboard" of international climate negotiations. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As you might have guessed, nobody understood what he meant. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So he explained the history of the QWERTY keyboard, which he says if you think about, doesn't really make sense because if you wanted to type really effectively you should group the most used letters, the vowels, together. The early prototype typewriter actually attempted this. But the problem was, ("and I hope you understand what I am talking about or have at least seen a typewriter in a museum" he said), typewriters have keys that go up and down when you jab a button and it hits the ink ribbon that gets pressed on your paper, and these keys jam all the time, especially if you're typing quickly. So to solve the jam, they invented the QWERTY keyboard to separate the vowel keys and to actually <span style="font-style: italic;">slow down</span> typists! And the only reason it's still being used in todays keyboards is because a status quo path dependence on the QWERTY had already been ingrained in everyone.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This was thrilling information in and of itself, which I think will last longer than my knowledge on climate change. I can just see myself at future dinner tables, passionately arguing that the inefficient size of wedding parties in Jakarta suffers from the QWERTY keyboard syndrome. The explanation that would follow will be so obscure and complex and geeky that people will (a) be dazzled by my faux intelligence and gaze at me in rapt admiration, or, (b) change the subject. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Yeah okay, scenario (b) is more likely. </span><br /></div>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7680370.post-88365541494532324972010-04-28T09:35:00.003+07:002010-04-28T11:11:04.163+07:00On style and success.<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">I'm not the most fashionable girl in the world, but I am definitely itching to provide style tips to some girls at my office. This does not make me a superficial person; I think it was Chanel who said, a woman can be unfashionable but she must have style.<br /><br />I learned it the hard way. When I was in high school my friends would laugh at my bright-green socks, which I had since I was 10. When I was in university my male friends would shake their heads at my baggy rapper jeans. "We love you just the way you are, but you need to be optimized", they said. The first time I had a creambath for my hair, they noticed. And dearest Mom never lets me out of the house without quality control. Of course this depends on every individual's milieu, and since I was in law school people generally liked a bit of conservatism.<br /><br />And so it applies to lawyers. Of course, brain matters most and beauty comes from within, but style is an obtainable skill so there's no reason why not. It needs to make you presentable, allow a good visual first impression, but not stand out like an attention seeker. It's really just science.<br /><br />Your front buttons shouldn't look like they are about to burst.<br />Your hair doesn't need to be greasy.<br />Your blouse shouldn't be made of napkin-like fabric.<br />Your shoes/bag shouldn't look like they are trying too hard to be leather.<br />Etc.<br /><br />Really. If I were Partner, I would take them out for a girly shopping session and buy them stuff. (I must mention this when I present my pitch for partnership).<br /><br /><br /><br />PS: Inspired to post this suddenly because my classmates are generally stylish, even the geeky ones. Wondering whether Style equals Success or whether Success gives you Style. Hmm.<br /></div>Teezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03567531654732744942noreply@blogger.com0