Bingo

Every summer, every temple in my parent's sect (jodo shinshu, an offshoot of Pure Land Buddhism, I personally do not identify with a sect) has a fundraising bazaar, with the bazaars staggered throughout the summer so members can support each-other's churches. The main attractions of these fundraisers are the food which is lovingly prepared by church members, catching up with people you haven't seen since last summer... and, of course, Bingo, the fundraising staple of all religious groups in the US.

The bazaar for my parents' temple was this weekend, so I spent the last two evenings gorging on sushi, udon (noodles), yaki soba (more noodles), chicken teriyaki, imagawayaki (photo, front left) and kuri manju (photo, front right). The last two items on this list are forms of Wagashi, a lightly sweet confection traditionally served with green tea. Wikipedia has a description and photos of wagashi, and Benkyodo has photos of the varieties of manju that they sell, if you are interested in learning more about it.

Tonight I attended with my father, and we played Bingo for a solid hour and a half. It was cash bingo all night, with an occasional "second chance," where play continued after the cash winner banked out and the consolation prize was a bag of groceries. No cash for me (and anyway, it would have gone to my dad, since he actually paid for my games), but my father and I both won a bag of consolation groceries at the same time. Those are my groceries behind the plates. Sorry about the messy counter and the bowl of compost in the background -- sometimes I'm a little lazy! I can use the rice oil and shoyu (soy sauce), and the ramen noodles and instant miso soup will go into the pile with the Costco ramen from 6 months ago for those days I'm too lazy to cook. And the flavored seaweed in the red-topped containers is good for snacking. The individually wrapped marshmallows, however...

The last time I bought marshmallows was a little after my housemate moved in. In the backyard, he set up a woodstove he had made from leftover welding yard parts and I wanted to make s'mores with it. We sat in the dark yard sipping beer and toasting marshmallows on skewers, had two s'mores each, and got sick from the sugar. A few marshmallows were sacrificed to the fire, just to watch them puff up and burn. The rest of the bag sat in the cupboard until the contents fused together and we tossed them. Given the rate at which marshmallows are consumed here, I think it would take more than ten years to finish these off. The scary thing is that since they are individually wrapped, they would probably last that long! I am debating tossing them now, or a few years from now when I happen upon them again.

And again...

... I am having internet problems! They are not as bad this time, as my USB modem works with my work computer. But last night, for whatever reason, it decided to stop working with my personal computer. The modem disconnected itself, just as I was responding to a message, and when I tried to reconnect, the terminal software crashed. I rebooted the computer, but the software keeps crashing. I even tried trashing the software and reinstalling to no avail. Maybe there's an obscure script somewhere I forgot to trash that is the cause. Arrgh!

If it weren't for the fact that I have critical files on my Mac, I would have left it at home and just brought my work computer here, but I need it for those. I just upgraded the memory and hard drive in an attempt to make it last a few years longer, but I'll need to buy a new one once I have a stable income again. It might be having problems because it is "technically" not compatible with the modem software, even though it did work for awhile.

Just down the street from my apartment, the European Cup of Racewalking starts at 8:00 tomorrow morning, and goes until evening. I am debating whether I want to check it out. It is a major event, and will probably be good for the town. Racewalking is also governed by the same bodies as Athletics (track & field), so if there is any chance that I will run into someone I know here, this will be it. I have been out of it so long, though, there are not many involved in the sport who would remember me, and the chances any of them would be at this event would be slim. Maybe I'll just take a quick peek in the morning and then hunt for Fort Queuleu.

I'm Alive...

After three days and three trips to the airport, I finally got to Miami.  Every flight was oversold through last week, and I was trying to fly standby on one of my sister's passes.  I finally just bought a full fare ticket.  It put me in Florida two days later than I'd planned, but at least I got to spend extra time with my animals.

I spent the weekend in Florida, mostly relaxing.  The ducks in the photo are a mom and her ducklings (mom has the red face and the ducklings still make baby cheep sounds and not adult quack sounds).  My sister encountered them when the ducks were about half their current size.  The brood was attempting to cross a busy street when she was walking her chihuahuas.  My sister ran in front of traffic to make sure the ducks got across safely.  Every driver on the street honked and glared at her.


I left Miami Monday evening on my sister's flight (thankfully, they let all the standby passengers on that flight, because I was last on the list), and stayed in Paris Tuesday evening with my sister.  I spent the evening with her and a bunch of other flight attendants drinking wine, eating cheese and fruit and listening to airline shop talk.

I took the train to Metz Wednesday morning, dropped my bags at the hotel, bought a phone, grabbed a bunch of free papers, went back to the hotel, paid for the hotel's wifi service, and looked for studios in the city's center, or close to it and ended up visiting the two places I'd arranged before my arrival.  I was late to my first appointment, but that turned out to be okay, because it was way out in the boonies and the taxi driver refused to wait for me while I looked for the property manager!  I walked about 1.5km to my next appointment by the train station, a modern building -- clean, includes linens, laundry facilities in the building, cookware and serving pieces, a vacuum cleaner and they wash your bed linens and towels every two weeks!

Thursday, still not having much luck with the local real estate listings, I visited another place I'd arranged before arriving very close to the center (and a convenient 5 minute walk from the hotel, but in a pretty run-down building on a sort of run-down street.  On the way back to the hotel, I dished out €140 to pay a location service for what turned out to be a pretty useless list of leads, then finally reached someone from one of the free papers I'd picked up.  I walked the 1.5 km to the studio, also near the train station, and a block from the one I'd seen the day before.  It's in an older building, which I think would be beautiful, if not for the steel security windows!  The interior has the musty smell of an older building (which, oddly enough, I like), and quirky spaces created by remodeling efforts over a long period of time.  I walked back to the hotel, decided to take that last one, even though it didn't have any of the amenities of the new building, or the great location of the studio closer to the town center, just because I liked the building (and I wasn't thinking straight -- I hadn't eaten or had much water all day and had walked all over).  So... I walked back to the studio, and signed a 4 month lease -- that's the building in the photo at left.  My apartment is on the right side behind the front apartment.

I walked to the studio twice today to drop off two loads of junk from my hotel room, then ventured into the neighborhood to find the laundromat the landlady had said was "just a few blocks away."  It's actually .8km away, according to google maps, and a good 10 minute walk without a load of laundry in hand.  I took the long way back to the hotel, coming up the bank of the Moselle (Mosel in Germany, I think).  I have photos!  But am too tired to post them right now.  I'm even skipping dinner tonight, because I'm too tired to venture out.

I'm even too lazy to close my window even though I'm a bit chilled!  My hotel is in Metz centre.  There are 4 or 5 restaurants on this block, and they're all packed.  The cobbled street outside is narrow, and the sounds of the diners travel directly up and through my window, making me feel as though I am right there next to them, so I guess I can handle a little chill to soak up some of the atmosphere.

Unfortunately for me, all the stores in Metz are closed on Good Friday, as well as the Monday after Easter, because I need bed linens, bath and cleaning towels before I can actually move in!  I'm in the hotel until Monday.  If I can't find an open store tomorrow (Saturday, my only hope until Tuesday), I'll spend a night using my coat as a blanket and my bathrobe (glad I brought it) as a towel for one night.

I tried to get around to as many people as I could today, but I know I've missed some.  Please forgive me!  Things should slow down soon.  À bientôt!

Whirlwind

The first days of spring have been mild and bright, but with a biting chill that picks up in the evenings. I haven't actually been out much to experience either, but I hear that's what the weather's like here!

My sister sent my flight itinerary a few days ago, and I leave next Thursday for Miami, where I'll spend a few days with her and her husband, and the following Monday, I'm scheduled to fly into Charles de Gaulle. After that, I am not so certain! My inamorato was going to try to look at apartments for me this week, but if he can't do it, I guess that will be the first item on my agenda. And then? Last year's move was work-related. This year, the company I work for is operating on fumes, my current work for them uncompensated, and during a severe recession, I am intentionally heading to a country where work visas for foreigners are almost impossible to attain in good years. At least the food and wine are good where I'm going!

I've been packing, repacking, taking care of last-minute paperwork and backing up and transferring files, giving as much attention as I can to my little midget cat, and handling last-minute house issues. Big headache. I'm zapped and need a little "down" time, so here I am!

On a contact's page, I mentioned one of the Asian countries rewriting its constitution from scratch, and couldn't remember which one! Bhutan is/was converting from Monarchy to a two-party democracy, but I think they've already put it in place:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/4385649.stm

But perhaps I was thinking of Nepal...
http://southasiarev.wordpress.com/2009/02/28/maoists-prepare-draft-of-new-constitution-in-nepal/
http://www.upiasia.com/Human_Rights/2008/10/15/new_constitution_alone_cannot_reform_nepal/6636/

Urgh. My brain is fried already. Back to backing up!

Non Sequitur

A comment on a contact's page triggered a strange memory from my childhood the other day. I don't remember the page, or the comment, but I remember thinking it was odd, because the comment had no relation to the memory! I had forgotten all about it, but now that I remember it, the details are vivid!

I was 6 or 7 years old, and at my friend, Donna's (not her real name) house, playing some childhood game of which I can't remember. It was nearing time for me to leave, and as I stood up, she pushed me back down, pinned me to the bed and told me she wasn't finished playing and that I couldn't go.

I blinked a few times, absorbing what she'd said, wondering how in the world she'd think I'd still want to play with her at that point. And then, my upbringing kicked in. I was going to be late getting home, and being a typical Asian American child at that point, I was much more afraid of what my parents would do if I were late than anything Donna could have done to me (sick puppies that we are). I said "If you don't let me up, I'll be late, my parents will ground me, and then I won't be able to play with you anyway!"

It was Donna's turn to blink. I think she was dumbfounded that I was just as whacked as she was! She got up, nodded and somewhat halfheartedly followed me to the front door, where she found her nerve again and hissed "you better not tell anyone what happened!"

I was six, of course I was going to tell! I ran down the block to my house, threw open the door, and announced: "she is crazy and I am never going back there!"

My mom looked at me: "what?"

"She pushed me, pinned me down and told me I had to stay there!"

At this point, I expected my mom to tell me everything was okay, Donna was bad, and I didn't have to play with her anymore. To my surprise, she said "Donna has it hard, Tracey, you should show a little tolerance."

"WHAT?!?!? Did you hear me? She PUSHED me and PINNED ME DOWN! She's crazy!"

"Her parents abandoned her and her grandmother is raising her as best she can all by herself. She is probably confused and lonely. Try to see things from her point of view."

"But Mom, she ..."

"Donna does not know how to express herself very well. You need to show her how to act properly!"

I was pretty sure at that point my mom was nuts, too. But she was the mother and I had to obey. Mom also made me play with the girl who had bladder control issues until the age of 9 or so, although even then, I was a clean freak and it made me squeamish to even be near her. In retrospect, I have to admit my mom was right. Donna seemed to be okay after that. She probably expected me to abandon her, as her parents had, and when I didn't, perhaps it planted the idea somewhere inside her that maybe she wasn't such a bad kid.

The effect of my mom's empathy for others on me, however, is still working itself out. I still have a difficult time distinguishing between the ideas of treating people well and allowing them to take advantage of me. As a result, I have had a few stalkers (some scary, some not), I allowed someone to freeload off me for years, and I dated a few mentally abusive men because they were outcasts and I felt sorry for them. But I think I am getting better.

The little cement bear in the photo has been in my grandparent's garden ever since I can remember (his nose broke off when I scared a raccoon off my porch, and the raccoon knocked him down in his haste to get away from the screaming human -- I never did find his nose). For thirty years, I thought the bulbs sticking out center front were his feet. And then one of my friends pointed out that no, those were testicles, and his feet were to the side of his testicles. I wonder if my grandparents knew that...