I am alive

Yes.

I am.

It’s been a long time, more precisely, since August since I last posted. Here it is mid-March.

I’m struggling with what to do with this blog. I do most of my family oriented posting and stuff on Facebook, where I can more easily control privacy, etc. With that out of the question, or greatly reduced, I need to find something else to focus on here on my blog.

An Update:

- After several months, we are only just now getting truly settled into our house. We are finishing up painting trim, and awaiting warmer weather so we can tackle what will prove to be a big challenge..our yard. We want grass in the back, or at least part of the backyard, but we have to keep drainage, our clayrich soil and the fact it doesn’t get that much sunlight into account.

- Mary was laid-off from her job in December. She had been there 12 years. Her former company appeared to be poorly managed, and we knew it was a matter of time..but we thought we had at least another year before that happened. So, we have been living off my income alone and her unemployment. We are doing ok, but have cut back tremendously on our spending..as have most people I know.  On the plus side, she is loving the time she is spending with Zak. She has taken to being a full-time at home mom much better than I thought she would.

- Zak is now 18 months old, and is still the cutest child on earth. He’s very verbal, and has about 20-40 words he says (or can almost say). He even mixes in a Chinese word here or there. He’s smart and every day he is learning something new. I now know why people say that child’s brains are like a sponge..they soak knowledge up like crazy! He is still obsessed with wheels, letters (he can name and say several) and can be pretty stubborn.

- Despite the downturn, my job is still going strong. That fiscal responsiblity everyone bitches about in good times is coming in handy now, although a few folks have been laid off and other measures have been taken. For the first time in apparently a long time (according to long time employees there) some people are actually worried about their job security. I know I’ve been busy day after day, so I think my chances of being let go are small..unless something catastrophic happens.

That’s all I have now.. I’ll try to be better about updating this darn thing. Either that, or I’ll have to shut ‘er down.

My Personal Chinese History

Me posing in the Old Summer Palace, 1994.

With Beijing hosting the Olympics, I thought it might be an appropriate time to talk a bit about my interest in China.

I have a B.A. in East Asian Studies and minor in Mandarin Chinese. Chinese language, history and culture were my passion in college and continue to be today.  I can still speak Mandarin fairly well conversationally, enough to get around anyway. As long as I keep away from in-depth discussions about nuclear fission, law or brain surgery I’m good. Chinese history is another topic I’m interested in and can talk your ear off about the Mongolian influence during China’s Yuan Dynasty if you’re not careful.

The most common questions I get are “What got you interested in China?” or “Why did you decide to study Chinese?” I usually tell people it’s a long story, but since this is my blog and China is in the news..I will tell the tale.

Long before I was born, back in the late 1950s and early 60s, my dad was based in Taipei, Taiwan with the U.S. Air Force. He was there keeping tabs on the Chinese communists. After a year or so, my mother joined him with my two oldest sisters who were toddlers at the time. They lived there amongst the Taiwan Chinese for two years.

During their time there, my parents not only picked up some Mandarin Chinese phrases, but they also gained a deep respect and appreciation for Chinese culture.

Fast forward a dozen years and thousands of miles to rural Washington state, when I was born. Yes, I was a surprise.  I grew up with tales of their experiences and adventures in Taipei.

My father also would often display his affinity for Chinese cooking; one which garnered him accolades from local food critics. He’d also, much to my embarrassment, attempt to speak what few Chinese phrases he knew to nearly every waiter or waitress in each Chinese restaurant we’d visit.

Then, in 1987 at the tender of age of 14, I joined my parents on a trip to Hong Kong, China and Taiwan. This trip came at a crucial point in my life and showed me that there was a much more expansive and diverse world outside of my small backwoods home town.

I was awed by the ancient and grandiose aspect of China. Its rich history and enduring traditions fascinated me. These people might as well have lived on a different planet, I remember thinking. From the city streets choked with bicyclists, to the towering limestone peaks surrounding the Li River it was all exotic, strangely beautiful and seductive to me. I wanted to try to understand it all. Back then, I recall seeing horses pulling wooden trailers behind them down the streets of Beijing. Needless to say, things have changed, just watch the Olympic opening ceremonies for proof.

The memorable experiences and fascination from that trip remained with me until I began college up at Western Washington University. Late in my freshman year, I noticed that Mandarin Chinese language classes were offered. So, when registering for fall quarter, I eagerly signed up. The rest of the story is my personal Chinese history.

Every night I was at the library studying my Chinese characters and tones. I looked forward to Chinese class above all else. I became an active member of the Chinese Culture Club, and remained so the rest of my college career.

During my studies at WWU, I took part in an exchange program with Beijing Foreign Studies University. I arrived in Beijing in late August 1994 and stayed for the next 6 months or so. During that time I got to know the capital city intimately, and made lasting friends with others from around the world who shared my interest in the Middle Kingdom.

Me at the Great Wall, 1994

I returned to Beijing in 2005. If it wasn’t for the landmarks such as Tian Tan (the Temple of Heaven), the white pagoda at Beihai or Mao’s portrait at Tiananmen I scarcely recognized the city. There are millions more cars on the road clogging up the grand avenues of the city. Wangfujing was stripped of vehicles and made a pedestrian paradise of shops, malls and gigantic LCD screens. The tree lined street that was the home of the communist police Public Security Bureau was now an avenue of capitalist commerce. (The PSB may still be there, I’m not sure.)
Stopping by Beijing Foreign Studies University (my home while I was in China) many of the same buildings I knew were thankfully still there, alongside newer structures.

I wasn’t sure I liked what I saw when I returned to Beijing in 2005. It has developed the point that Beijing’s charm was drowned in worsened pollution, traffic and a skyline punctuated by taller and more ostentatious buildings.

Much like when I first visited China in 1987, there remains a gulf of understanding between China and the west. It’s my hope that these Olympics will help build new bridges that create better understanding, and ignite a passion in a new generation of Americans. I know for myself, it is a passion that will never dim.

Previously I posted some entries from the journal I kept while I was in China. I’ve got more to post, but you are welcome to read what I’ve already posted:

China Journals: Entry 1

China Journals: Entry 1, Part 2

China Journals: Chinese Bureaucracy 101

China Journals: Money and Moshing

China Journals: Biking Beijing

China Journals: Time Crunch and a Step to Stardom

InFamous Over Indulgences in My History

Disclaimer: Do Not Overindulge. It’s not as fun as you might think. I only present these for your enjoyment at my folly.

1976: At age 4 consumed my sister’s “Chinese Casserole” leading to vomiting and sickness. Went down as a Chinese Casserole, came up as “Chinese Surprise” all over the shag carpet. Luckily the carpet was already multi-colored.

Verdict: Remains off my menu.

1978: Ate at Wendy’s. Promptly threw up in the parking lot afterwards.

Verdict: Have only eaten at Wendy’s twice since then. Still avoid.

1982: Nearly choked on peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth.

Verdict: Began a 6 year personal boycott of peanut butter…except for Nutter Butter cookies.

1992: Ate a pint of strawberry yogurt and some milk in one sitting while in college. Got horribly sick.

Verdict: Only recently began eating small amounts of yogurt again without stomach discomfort. Still avoid large amounts of milk.

1993: Afflicted with illness after eating clam chowder made by a dorm-mate. Judged by me as Most Disgusting Clam Chowder ever consumed.

Verdict: After a boycott of nearly 10 years, I was finally able to stomach clam chowder.

1994: While engaging in cheap Chinese beer libations in my Beijing dorm with a German and Australian friend, they lock me in a closet with a Russian girl I had been drunkenly flirting with. This, contrary to what you might think, wasn’t as fun as it might sound.

Verdict: Don’t try to drink Germans or Australians under the table..it can’t be done.

1995: Downed 2 full bottles of cheap, fruit flavored champagne in a two and a half hour span to celebrate college graduation. Laughed hysterically at an X-Files episode and stumbled up an incredibly long staircase before kneeling before the porcelain god for the next 8 hours. The throbbing headache lasted 2 days.

Verdict: Have avoided any and all champagne since, except for a sip at our wedding.

2000: After an evening of dancing and drinking with friends I am driven back to my apartment complex where I proceed to try to unlock and enter the door of the apartment NEXT DOOR to mine at 3AM. Hilarity ensues as I freak the hell out of my neighbors.

Verdict: Don’t drink and unlock. Better yet, don’t drink at all.

2002: While visiting a friend in Boston, I consume an entire lobster, a bottle of wine and some unknown liquor (can’t remember, most likely tequila). While others sleep and my world spins, my stomach awakens. I dart down the hallway towards the bathroom…spouting puke all along the way like a demented, disgusting fountain.In a drunken state of guilt, I spend the rest of the night cleaning up after myself. I fly cross country the next morning with the world’s worst hangover. Verdict: Don’t drink too much. Trust me. I don’t anymore.

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Long Time No Post

I’ve got several good posts in the bullpen ready to step up to the plate, but haven’t had much time to post them yet.

In the meantime, here’s an update:

Zakary is turning 11 months old on Aug 14. I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since he was born. Time flies so fast. He is nearly able to walk. He can stand unassisted for several seconds at a time, and can crawl faster than any baby I’ve ever seen. He’s still super-cute and, much like his old man, will probably be breakin’ ladies hearts when he’s grown up (ha..kidding). If you hit me up on facebook, I’ve got some recent pics of him there. I’ll post some here at some point as well.

House: In last weeks thrilling episode, Mary and I moved out of our house and into her parent’s place. We subsequently sold our house, in 12 days, and spent the next several weeks looking for a new house.

We found one, but have not yet closed on it. It’s a 3 bedroom, 2 bath 2200 square foot home in a nice neighborhood in Gresham, Oregon. It’s mere minutes away from Mary’s folk’s place (they babysit Zakary).

Built in 1978, it’s in great condition, is clean, and comes complete with a wet bar, a super huge basement/crawlspace and an expansive loft area. I’ll post pics at some point. We are going to start to move in Labor Day weekend.

Mary is doing well. She is working hard, as usual. She has been shopping for furniture online, since, aside from an old dining table, a computer desk, tv stand and a few chairs, we have nothing to put in our new house. I let her handle the style and interior decorating decisions, because despite my penchant for watching HGTV, I still can’t color coordinate to save my life.

Stay tuned for more..

What Housing Slump?

After 12 days on the market, we got an offer. After an accepted counter-offer and 3 weeks of waiting, our house finally closed yesterday! We feel pretty lucky, but truthfully, we took good care of the house and Mary did a fantastic job staging it. Considering the market, we hit it pretty close to our asking price as well. Had we sold last year, or the year before that..I’m sure we would have done better.

We started our new home search last weekend on Saturday with a tour of 15 homes. I’m amazed at the condition of some of the places we saw; railings hanging off the walls, dirty windows, dust and out of control lawns. It’s no wonder people have trouble selling some homes when they’re in that kind of condition.

We look at another 8 homes on Sunday, then who knows. We’re in no huge hurry, but it would be nice to find “the place” soon!

Returning to the Crime Scene

On Friday, I returned to the house where my grandmother was murdered.

Obviously, it wasn’t a comfortable visit. There are so many memories of that house for me and my family. She’d lived there for many decades. The house itself was built by my grandfather, who passed away in 1987 after having a stroke.

As a child, we’d spend every Christmas Eve there in front of the rock fireplace, built with care by my stonemason grandfather. It was the one time of year when I’d see all of my cousins together. I remember laughing and playing with them, while we all waited for Santa to arrive. My uncle (her son), who now stands accused of her murder, would bump around and shout “ho ho ho” in a Santa costume outside the house, pretending to be the bearded man himself. All of us children would wait quietly in my grandma’s bedroom, forbidden from looking outside. Somehow we all knew he wasn’t the ‘real’ Santa, but we all enjoyed the game and the trinkets and treats that ended up in our socks after it was done.

For me, I have early memories of grandma holding birthday parties for me in that house, and evenings teaching me how to play Chinese checkers and other board games. Just feet away from the coffee table where she taught me backgammon, her life ended in a violent, brutal manner on January 2.

That house was the starting point for hikes in the woods and along abandoned railroad tracks with my grandfather and his trusty German Shepherd, Corky. Every morning, my grandfather would be sipping his beer and tomato juice (a poor man’s Bloody Mary) and rolling his own cigarettes. He’d sit in his recliner and watch “The Price is Right.” Just behind his chair would be where his wife would be murdered many years later. Grandpa’s death brought to an end 3 years of painful suffering after he fell victim to a stroke. Grandma’s abrupt death did nothing but extinguish a vibrant life, causing pain and sadness for all who knew and loved her.

It’s been 6 months since her murder, but like the embedded blood stains still visible in the wooden floorboards, the sadness is too deeply engrained to dissipate. Forever will it taint the hearts of my family and I.

There is no way possible for me to express just how horrible this has been for my family. She was a 90 year old woman, frail in body, but strong in mind and spirit. Without this violence, she easily could have easily lived another 10 years. She read frequently, enjoyed attending the movies and discussing politics. She loved traveling, and had set foot on almost every continent during her lifetime. She continued to audit classes at the local community college.

She could still drive her car safely enough, even though we began to grow more concerned as she grew older.

She loved her son. She didn’t think he would follow through on his threats. My mother and sister tried convincing her it wasn’t safe to go back to her house, where he was. Despite his threats towards her and other family members, she refused to believe her only son would hurt her.

Her life ended sometime after arriving at her house in a manner that is too difficult for me to relate.

Dad and I took the final load of my grandmother’s belongings to the dump on Friday. Everything that had sentimental or other value was given, per her wishes, to family. This load was mainly trash. Included amongst the garbage was a birthday card my grandmother made especially for my uncle, the accused, sometime in the distant past. Wishing you the Happiest of Birthdays, With Love, Mom it said, in big red letters.

Revisiting all this by writing is now causing my sad heart to race uncomfortably and my hands to tremble slightly, but I hope that the healing can continue. Seeing her house empty was strange enough, but standing near the spot where her 90 years came to an end was sad and heart wrenching.

I hope I never have to return there, a place filled with loving memories of a time past and painful memories of present tragedy.

I don’t like moving and I dont like Red Bean Drink

WAHHH! Yes, I am whining.

Moving really sucks. We’ve been at it for a month now, from the first box carted up to my folk’s place to one last little load of miscellaneous crap tomorrow. I’ve landscaped our entire property, cleaned and painted, hauled and carted. Lifted, sorted and scrubbed. I”m tired of it all.

The endless trips back and forth to Ridgefield, and to Gresham will end tomorrow. At least until we find a new place to move to that is. mary’s mom and dad have done most of the babysitting while Mary and I work on the house. Zak even spent most of the day last Saturday with my mom.

We are settled into Mary’s folk’s place. it’s a little cramped, and Mary, myself and baby Zak all in one guestroom.

I’ll be honest, I’m a little spooked about selling our house. I know it’s a bad time, but we’ve been planning on doing this for a long time..our house was quickly becoming too small for us. Luckily, we aren’t in a ‘must sell’ now situation, which buys us some time and since we can easily afford our mortgage, we aren’t desperate.

Anyway, here are a few snapshots I took today (and recently) with my new cameraphone..an LG VX8700.

one of our last loads

Today we had lunch at Tien Hong, a local Chinese place that is famous for its Salt and Pepper Squid. tien Hong was actually featured on the food Network at one point. In this shot, she is stirring her red bean drink. A sweet concoction that I fail to enjoy.

Mary enjoying her starchy red bean drink, while I enjoy my splenda-laced iced tea.

KEEP PORTLAND BEERED

Click to enlarge, so you can actually read the billboard.

A clever billboard as seen from Interstate 5 on the Marquam Bridge.

..and I leave you tonight with a blurry shot (he moves fast, you know) of my adorable,intelligent and happy 8 month old son, Zakary!