Extraordinary Charrette

A chain of events that could not just be explained away as coincidence:

Saturday
11:00am Gareth, Barbora and I meet at the Second Cup coffeeshop to start brainstorming design ideas for the charette (student design competition). We only meet for an hour, but we were playing around with the idea of situations that influence architecture. For example, the increase in live load as more people arrive at a particular place.

8:30pm We meet again at Barbora's house for another design meeting. Barbora comes up with a brilliant idea of a sinking ground plane that forms an amphitheatre when enough people stand on the site.

9:00pm Gareth comes and is excited about the idea. We chew on it for a bit, and another idea comes: perhaps we can use folding plexiglass and three-dimensionally express our idea. We thought this would be an unbeatable project.

11:30pm We leave, and Gareth goes to the school to check to see if the hot-air blower is available.

12:30pm I get back home and Barbora phones. Says that it's an emergency. Apparently, Gareth had gone back to school and heard the blower being used. He goes to the room and sees a team folding a plexiglass panel with almost a splitting image of our idea. We are devastated, but are too tired to think.

Sunday
9:30am We meet at Place Milton, and guess who we see there too: the team that Gareth saw last night. We are in complete shock. We decide to change our idea, but we couldn't come up with anything.

11:00am We go to Home Depot, and finally, an idea pops up. We get excited, and drive to the library to scan images.

1:00pm Back at Barbora's place, we start working on the presentation when we realize the printing deadline is 2pm. We only have an hour to make the panel.

2:00pm We aren't done yet.

2:15pm We decide to quit. The printing deadline is passed, and we conclude that our panel is too much of a hack job to submit.

2:30pm I propose to go back to the original idea. The deadline is 6pm anyways, and we could get some foamcore and hand draw the panel. Barbora laughs, and asks Gareth if he heard what I just suggested.

3:00pm We decide to give it one last shot, and Barbora goes and gets foamcore.

3:45pm We start drawing on the foamcore.

5:45pm We finish drawing on the panel, and drive to the exhibition room to hand in our project.

6:00pm People look at the panel, intrigued by the low-tech treatment of the project. However, the other team who had the same idea kept their idea. We overheard one professor remark that he has never in his career seen two projects so similar.

9:00pm Gareth, Barbora, and I sit in a Greek restaurant contemplating what has happened in the past 24 hours.

(to be continued)

Libeskind

Any architect will know who Daniel Libeskind is- the most recognizable architect today. His lecture on his recent work required very little introduction, needed no verbose explanations, and had a "shock and awe" effect on the audience. His buildings excite, his concepts are clear, his architectural intentions are noble. It's almost uncanny to have an architect who is a household name come down and talk on the same level as all of us.

Buy a Mac

If there's a similarity between Christianity and Mac users, it's that both are minorities who have an instinctual need to tell other people about their love. In the case of Christians, it's the love for Christ. For Mac users, it's the love for Macs. One thing that Apple is succeeding that perhaps Christians can learn from is that people immediately notice the glowing Apple logo, or the white earbuds, or the eagerness to show off OS X. There is an immediate perception of difference, of resistance, and of (perhaps) good taste. If only I was more effective at showing my faith as I am converting PC users.

Watch "The Terminal"

This is one of those surprise movies that challenges how we view the world. Tom Hanks plays a traveller who has lost citizenship because his country has dissolved into war, and ends up caught in a crack in the immigration system- unable to enter the United States, but unable to return to his native country. He ends up living in the airport for nine months, using an abandoned gate as a refuge, and using local amenities for essentials- washroom as bathroom, bookstore as school, condiment stand as grocery store. We are led into an imaginative play between the mediated world of the airport, and the uncontrollable community of airport workers. At one end, you see the recognizable shopping world, complete with Starbucks and Borders, but on the other end, you see a darker world of what goes on behind the scenes- airport workers as part of a ridiculous cult, security personnel as voyageuristic egoists. As Rem Koolhaas would say, the airport environment is remarkably similar to the commodified environment that we live in today.

Joyful Suffering

How can you show thankfulness when so much has been taken away from you? How can you have joy when much of the time you're in pain? I'd be lying if I said I knew the answer, but these questions have no doubt been on my mind since getting arthritis during my China trip. These past two months have been both the most painful and the most joyful of times. At every moment when I realize that I am completely helpless, something always happens. I discover something and I realize that there is a higher power. I have rarely received so much.. at a time when I have so little. Thesis is going well, I am surrounded by a cloud of good friends, I have loving parents who worry and care for me, I have a God who provides for my every need and who is healing me. The question is.. how can I not be thankful at a time like this?

On Sunday we became kids again.

After Sunday School, a dozen of us went to the local chicken diner. Not only was the place a genuine family-run restaurant, but it looked like a 1970s throwback, bringing us back to a time when bell-bottoms, folk music, and long shaggy hair were trendy. The pastor was there, with his wife and four kids, and as the children screamed and giggled when we teased them, we too felt like kids at our favorite restaurant on a Sunday afternoon.

We played card games till the sun went down. We screamed and yelled until our sides hurt as we sat around on the floor hurtling insults at each other, laughing at our silliness, and concentrating hard when it was our turn. Bang! Five! Two! Three! Spoons!! I broke a nail!! You're a P-I-G!!!

We watched old Jackie Chan films, impersonating the voice overs and laughing at the cheesy music.

We stood and sat around in relative silence, savoring and slurping fudgsicles.

Eighteen grown-ups that for a moment forgot the world around them and became kids again.

The Debate

I have never seen a debate where there is absolutely no risk. The presidential debates last night was heated, but with all the new debate rules, the candidates looked more like scripted puppets than real people. Some of the answers sounded prefabricated, engineered with words that were carefully chosen by spin doctors. Perhaps the stakes are too high for a full-fledged all-out debate which could humiliate either side, but then again, this when the stakes are this high shouldn't there be a forum where we can really see the kind of creative and intelligent spontaneity that we require of our top leaders? I demand a president who isn't afraid to stand up and speak boldly, careful not to jump into repetitive cliches. Of the two, John Kerry, I think, proved himself the most during the debate as a decisive leader who can not only articulate his ideas cleanly, but also look into the camera and speak simply to Americans without resorting to slang and rhetoric.

Play

Play is the ultimate form of human activity. When all the chores are done, when all your homework is finished, when the workweek is over, humans go play. Play could mean watching TV, playing sports, playing video games- play is anything in which the end is less significant that the actual act of playing. Sociability is form of play. Talking to somebody casually is pleasurable, and it is no surprise that popular communication tools like MSN Messenger, email, and even blogging are contemporary forms of expression that are derived essentially from play. How does play fit in with faith? Christianity limits our play in many ways.

The Internet killed the television. At least for me, there is now no reason to get cable. The computer screen now allows you to access anything from anywhere in the world, shop, download movies and shows, listen to music, plan your life, talk to friends, compose a song, watch the shows and movies that you downloaded, read the Bible, make money, do banking, sell your possessions. The vitualness of the TV is being subverted by a more seductive virtualness: that of the computer. This is not new. But it does beg the question of how we spend our productive lives in front of essentially a machine. But maybe reality is too inefficient.

I have a problem with traditional Chinese medicine. It is a gimmick, something that entices only because it provides hope to those seeking it. In my opinion, it is a false hope, predicated by profit and the business of fear. When I went to the acupunturist, there is no question whether or not he could heal me. Simply come twice a week, and you will be healed, he says. Western medicine treats the symptoms, Eastern medicine treats the source. However, there is no proof that acupuncture works, that taking herbal medicine will heal. It is driven only by people who lack a scientific understanding of the body and need something to comfort (or discomfort) them periodically. The only difference between the beginning of treatment and the end of it is that I had perfect red circles all over my back, and relief that I don't have to go back there anymore.

Athens Olympics a big lifesaver

Usually, television doesn't offer much in terms of good daytime entertainment. Thank God for the Olympics, because they couldn't have come at a better time for me. Over the past 17 days (including some of my trip in Shanghai), I have watched the Games almost religiously, and simultaneously acquiring useless knowledge. Watching the Olympics in China differs from watching them in Canada in one fundamental respect: in China, the Chinese athlete always wins, usually at impossible odds, and you're always at the edge of your seat. In one day, China wins more gold medals than Canada has in the past fifty years. You're always left with a good feeling. On the other hand, in Canada, the programming is stuffed with awkward personalities like Brian Williams introducing segments like "Olympic Moments" and "Rediscovering Athens." You're always left with the desire to change the channel.

Always check your plane ticket before going to the airport.

My last day in Shanghai was another unintentional adventure. After arriving at the airport with my uncle, I proceeded to one of the TV screens to check the status of my flight. ANA flight to Tokyo departing at 10:15am. I looked across the board to see what the time was. Searching, searching, ahh. 9:45am. WHAT??!! Fear seized me and for a moment I couldn't move. I had thought the flight was at 12:00! Stupid me, I forgot to check my plane ticket. I tried to explain to my uncle that I had half an hour to catch my flight, and that I'll probably miss it, but he didn't speak English well and didn't understand why I was suddenly so flustered. With a sprained ankle, I couldn't walk at all, and the check-in counter was all the way at the other end of the airport. I asked my uncle to race there while I hobbled slowly behind. By the time I got there, I was dead tired, and I knew there was no chance to make the flight. Could I make my connection in Tokyo? I asked around, but they all said that it was impossible. After several agonizing trips back and forth through the airport and many fruitless attempts to rebook, I looked at my uncle with desperation and defeat, not knowing how I was going to get out of this mess. Then suddenly from out of the blue, a woman from the airline company came out of her office, looked at my ticket, went back into her office, and minutes later came back out with a stamp for tommorrow's flight- at no extra change. At that point, I didn't know how to express my thanks. Eventually, I did, and then I quickly looked for a chair to sit down in and rest my swollen ankle. I found a massage chair nearby, sat down, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Ultra-modern Shanghai

Even though much of Shanghai is being built with little regard to site, there are spots of ingenuity within the city. One of these places is Xintiandi, an ambitious neighborhood redevelopment in the centre of the city. It is now fully developed, with the old apartments turned into luxury shops, Western-style restaurants, theatres, up-scale cafes, and high-end condominiums. On the surface, it presents itself as a unique example of how a slum can be turned into an exciting urban experiment. Alleyways become part of a network of pedestrian paths that join one 'piazza' to the next. Exquisite brick coursework, hidden nooks, narrow vistas all combine and recombine as you walk through the distinctly Oriental spaces. Time will tell though how the general public will embrace development like this- right now, it only seems to attract foreigners.

Tip #4: Don't let the taxi driver call the shots

I went to Hangzhou for a couple of days to escape from the big city. Little did I know that Hangzhou is ALSO a big city. However, as the tourist capital of China, it's a city bounded by water and mountains. The West Lake is a large expanse of green water with gondolas ferrying to and from the islands. Many of the islands are incredible micro-landscapes, each with stuff one dreams of when thinking of China: pavilions, reflecting pools, arched bridges. Lingyingsi Temple, out in the mountains, is a large Buddhist temple, with several stone-carved cliffs around the temple. At the Great Hall, monks were chanting prayers while locals were worshipping the large Buddha statue.

Hangzhou is also famous for its Longjing tea, grown just west of the lake. During a taxi ride towards the train station, the taxi driver said that it would be a shame if I didn't buy this tea before I left. With time to spare, I naturally took up the driver's offer to take me to a place to get this tea. Little did I know that he'd take me all the way to the farm that grows this stuff, heading 15 minutes in the other direction. In the tea shop, he was also kind enough to help me select the finest tea from one of the three sacks that an old woman had carried out. Sipping the tea, I had no idea what was good, and I was partly afraid that the tea might be spiked. After a few minutes of nervous debating and confusion over the price, it was I who came out on top. Apparently the tea I bought was quite expensive (like fine wine), and I had inadvertently paid half the price I should have. Let's say it was a happy accident. However, the taxi driver was happy too. I had given him fare for two rides.

The Hospital, the Church, and the Karaoke Bar.

What do they all have in common? Oddly enough, these are the places I went over the past few days. After not being able to get over my fever, I decided to go to see a doctor at a local hospital. Hospital treatment here is very "3rd world" compared to what I'm used to- patients would wait and stand impatiently in the same exam room that the doctor would check you in. One old guy actually interrupted my examination to ask the doctor a question about his prescription. The corridors are pooly lit, and reek of chemicals. Also, there's a small IV room where dozens of patients would sit hours at a time strung up to IVs hanging from the ceiling. I had to take an IV for four hours, while trying to avoid breathing the same air as my neighbor with SARS-like symptoms.

I also went to a Karaoke Bar. Karaoke in Canada would be pretty 3rd world compared to what they have here in China. Within a building that one would confuse with a high-class hotel, dozens of employees cater to your needs. Finely cut marble and granite give shape to a large neo-classical lobby, from which a grand staircase takes you up to the private leather-seated karaoke rooms, each with a private washroom. All-you-can-eat buffet on every floor. Thousands of tracks to choose from. Hundreds of rooms. It's absolutely insane, considering in every room, young Chinese teens are howling off-key renditions of Christina Aguilera.

Lastly, I went to the Community Church, one of a few churches here in Shanghai. High security guards keep unwanted people out of the grounds of the church- I had to show my passport just to get in. The large congregation was a very exciting community of people from different parts of the world. It was actually weird to be an English-speaking Chinese, in a Chinese speaking city, going to an English Sunday service. Something like a double reversal.

The Jin Mao Tower and Pollution

In Shanghai, there's an impressive new building piercing the skyline: the Jin Mao Tower, an 88-story skyscraper in the new Pu Dong district- the financial core of the city. Its design recalls the form of tall pagodas, and its ornamentation speaks of the industrialization of China. From the top, one can see a 360 panorama of the city, marked with skyscrapers in every direction. Berlin times 10. On a clear day like today, you can even see the blue edge of the East China Sea.

Out on my aunt's balcony, you can see a similar panorama of the city, except looking towards Pu Dong and the Jin Mao. However, I've noticed that when the wind doesn't blow away the smog at night, the Jin Mao along with most of the other buildings disappear from the skyline underneath a thick layer of brownish-grey smog. Normally, a society prides itself on the objects that it produces. The irony is however is this: at the peak of its productive capacity, its own toxic exhaust obliterates the view of these objects. In other words, the more we produce, the more we're unable to enjoy the things we produce."

Don't plan to watch "Friends" in China

I've had to deal with stomach problems and fever over the past three days, and it's probably from something I ate. (It might've been my unfortunate discovery of the 1 rmb red-bean popsicle that other night.) As a result, I've had to rest at my aunt's place. I finished reading the last 300 pages of the Fountainhead. I finished the last 200 pages of another book. When I got bored, I watched TV. In China, English TV can be agonizing if you watch it alone because most of the time, you're staring in disbelief and you'd wish someone was there helping you make fun of it. That's because there's only one English channel, a publicly funded channel that has no commercials. It relays the same five shows throughout the day. The news shows are perhaps the most annoying- the anchormen were probably plucked off the street just because they could speak a hint of English. They have white dudes with British accents, but are quite ugly. The weather-man is a lanky guy, and REALLY ugly. The Chinese reporters are not ugly, but their English is often inflected with a ridiculous accent so disturbing that has made my gastro even worse. "Dialogue", a talk show much like Larry King Live (they even have the small round lights in the background), is not so much a debate, but a bunch of people attempting to understand what the other is trying to say.

STARBUCKS IN PARADISE

Today, I found a Starbucks in the most unlikely place: the ancient Yuoyuan Gardens. This magical place is where you can go see authentic Chinese gardens, bargain down bric-a-brac merchandise from vendors in the narrow lanes, and look at children feed the thousand goldfish in the lily pond. Right smack in the middle of the bazaar, where tourists normally go enjoy the centuries-old big hat pagodas, you can now purchase your non-fat caramel macchiato.

There were other eccentric stuff there too, mind you. In one of the shops, I saw this woman demonstrate this iron-like stapler contraption that allows you to actually cut a plastic bag filled with water into two completely sealed bags without the water bursting out. It was really cheap- only 25 yuan- and I was tempted to buy it, but then I wondered... exactly when would I ever need to do something like that?

Tip # 3: Look six ways before crossing the road

It appears to me that the rule of the road is that there's no rules. The system works like this- forget the traffic lights, forget that there's lanes on the road, and believe in your mind that everyone is crazy. Shanghainese pedestrians are quite the experts in navigating these treacherous roads- it's amazing to see them stroll nonchalently through a busy street- vehicles barely inches away and bicyclists headed on a collision course- without even the slightest hint of fear. On the other hand, I fear for my life each time I have to cross an intersection. I usually do this: I wait for somebody, say, a young mother with a kid who also needs to cross, and then I squimishly follow close behind them. It's the safest way to avoid getting hit by a half-ton truck.

Tip #2: Don't pretend that you know how to paint.

My days so far have started exceedingly early because I keep waking up at 4 in the morning. I guess my body gave up fighting jet lag, resolving only to go halfway and settle with Hawaiian time. So now I'm here in smokin' hot Shanghai, enjoying an exchange rate that lets me buy a lunch for three dollars cdn, eating long donuts several times greasier than Krispy Kremes, and dodging crazy cars and bikes on the street. (I even saw an accident where the driver was trying to calm his bleeding bike-wielding victim with a wad of cash.) What has fascinated me the
most are the old residential alleyways, or tongs, of the city- narrow gated alleys with weathered brick, clothes-lines dangling everywhere, and old fragile people sitting outside with their wooden fans. This afternoon, I decided go to these places and do some watercolors. It felt like sketching school again, except that everything I did was horrible. People would stare over my shoulder, thinking they might see some Chinese master painter at work. Most walk away disappointed. One guy mumbled something incomprehensible, and briskly walked off. It's always neat to be famous, or in my case- infamous.

After a few breathtaking moments of sheer whiteness, the plane pierces the surface of the clouds to reveal the atmosphere above- a seamless gradient of brilliant blue. Joe could feel the bright hot sun on his face as if layers of invisible insulation had been peeled off.

The seatbelt light turns off, and Joe relaxes his grip on his chair.

As he admires the peacefulness of the cloudscape, he thinks to himself,

"I've packed all the medicine I could possibly need. Cipro for food poisoning. Tylenol for headaches, and Advil for pain. Mom also packed travel tabs for dizziness, Sudafed for congestion, and Cepacol for sore throats. Definitely prepared for the worst."

Two hours into the flight, turbulence starts rocking the plane. Moments later, Joe gets a nagging headache and vertigo. Not to mention that the on-flight lunch isn't sitting too well. Luckily he's prepared for stuff like this. Joe smiles confidently at the passenger next to him and reaches forward into the backpack for the pills. A few seconds pass. His smile disappears.

Realizes he had checked them all in.

TIP # 1: LEARNING ESSENTIAL CHINESE WORDS

If there's one thing that scares me the most, it's not knowing any Mandarin. Mandarin, for those who don't know, is the primary dialect used in mainland China. I actually know only how to say one thing: "I want to fart."

I'm fully aware that this useful phrase probably won't get me too far at the family dinner table.

A few days ago, my mom learned of my obstinate illiteracy and she offered me her conversational phrase tapes to help me out. As I put on the dusty headphones, I got really gung-ho about learning Mandarin. It's been three days since I started. Now I know how to proudly say in perfectly fluent Chinese- wo men you ge wu xian dian xue xi xiao zu da jia hai: "We have a Radio Study Club and they have elected me then as Club leader." Another powerfully useful phrase.