Lugete, O Veneres Cupidinesque, et quantum est hominum venustiorum: passer mortuus est meae puellae, passer, deliciae meae puellae, quem plus illa oculis suis amabat. nam mellitus erat suamque norat ipsam tam bene quam puella matrem, nec sese a gremio illius movebat, sed circumsiliens modo huc modo illuc ad solam dominam usque pipiabat. qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum illuc, unde negant redire quemquam. at vobis male sit, malae tenebrae Orci, quae omnia bella devoratis: tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis o factum male! o miselle passer! tua nunc opera meae puellae flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli.
life
On Histories and Family
I recently stumbled upon this video of my grandparents’ 80th birthday celebration from May 2009. At the time, I was based in Beijing on my Fulbright, and my parents were visiting China from the U.S. to visit my mother’s side of the family in Nanjing. We had an elaborate dinner at a nice hotel by 玄武湖，Xuanwu Lake, several blocks from my grandparent’s home on 中央路, Zhongyang Lu, one of the main thoroughfares of the (now rapidly expanding and increasingly unfamiliar) city. It was the second time in my lifetime my entire mom’s side of the family had congregated under one roof. The atmosphere was festive: it was loud; there was storytelling and laughter; there was an overabundance of food, drink, and cake (most of which had to be taken home, as pictured below). The dinner also featured the typical birthday customs for celebrating longevity and honoring elders: long life noodles, peaches, and a gold thread hand-embroidered character for “longevity,” 寿 (shòu). It was the classic Chinese dinner party. While the birthday celebration brought everyone physically together, and despite having visited Nanjing numerous times over the years, I had never felt close to my China-based family. Tried as I might, I
[Unfinished] Personal Thoughts on the U.S. Economic Collapse
![[Unfinished] Personal Thoughts on the U.S. Economic Collapse](http://quelquefois.net/toujours/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/unemployment.gif)
It’s ironic that I started (and, obviously, never finished) writing this blog just a few days before I was offered a fellowship. Four days later, I was approached by another company for interviews. Things seem to be coming together now, and I’ve never been more grateful for the support I received from friends, colleagues, and mentors. Where I go from here is still a mystery, but I remain optimistic, and I think that is the hardest part. ***** I left a stable job (and ample opportunities) in Beijing, China to come back to the U.S. to segue into new experiences and bolster my credentials for a future career (whatever that may be). I am currently an intern at a think tank. While I have never enjoyed my research, workplace, and colleagues more, a modest stipend is hardly sustainable. The employment market for 18- to 24-year-olds is astonishingly poor, with the unemployment rate hovering around 20-24%, which is about twice as high as the national average (see The Economist graph below). In the past several months, I: applied to over twenty-four jobs; was interviewed multiple times; was a finalist for a position that was ultimately given to someone completely overqualified. It is
Dry Clean Only
You know you’ve reached a new era in life when at least half the items in your closet must be dry cleaned.
Swimming Pool Diaries: Discrimination
It’s not easy being a woman in China. In the workplace, women face the glass ceiling phenomenon, but there’s also a sticky floor, wherein women in low-paying jobs get paid less than men of equal skill level. In their personal lives, they are bombarded by images in mass media, telling them they need to be thinner, fairer, taller. While many societies promote equal political and social rights for women (China being one of them), it’s rare to see it fully implemented in practice. This entry is about when I’ve received some sort of discrimination based on my gender at the pool. I don’t have any specific conclusions or policy recommendations; this is just a story of my life in China. When I was studying in Harbin last year, I often went to Heilongjiang University’s pool. Every time I went, I stuck out as one of the fastest swimmers in the pool. I befriended the lifeguards there, who welcomed my presence every time with a smile and a wave. One lifeguard, ? (Li), in his late 40s, single, would often swim with me and race me. He always tried to invite me out to another pool he worked at during his
Conversations with a Nanjing Cabbie
Cabbie: Men should have two women in their lives. One to be by their side, and one in their heart (he meant in his pants). Me: Do you have two women in your life? Cabbie: Yes, of course. Me: What about women? Can they have two men in their lives? Cabbie: I haven’t thought about it. 我对这没有研究. Cabbie: How old are you? Me: 23. Cabbie: And you’re not married yet? Me: I don’t even have a boyfriend. Cabbie: You don’t even have a boyfriend?!? I think it’s time you put less focus on your work life and focus on finding a husband and settling down. You should let the man take care of everything, then you can stay home and relax. How great would that be? Me: Actually…. Cabbie: Cabbie: You know why women would be bad doctors? Because they’re too emotional. Let me give you an example. A woman has breast cancer, goes into a woman doctor. This woman doctor may think to herself, “I want to let this woman keep as much of her womanly features as she can, because I know it is important to her
Being a “Duck” in China
A few days ago, I found out that one of my male Chinese friends has gone to another city in China become a “duck” (鸭子, 男妓). I was actually quite unfamiliar with the phenomenon and even laughed when someone told me he went to go 养鸭 (yang3 ya1, raise ducks, a euphemism for male prostitution), because at first I thought he became a duck farmer. The name “duck” complements their female counterparts, who are called chickens, (妓女). According to The Observer, more and more Chinese women “buy a duck for a few hours of chatting, drinking and flirting.” While ordering a duck used to only be prevalent among middle-aged women, increasingly more younger women are also finding ducks to accompany them through a night of drinking, karaoke, or more. I became curious as to the life of a duck in China and searched some blogs and forums. One 19-year-old said on a forum: I am a 19-year-old duck. My family is poor. I am a high school graduate, and it is imperative for me to find a woman to take care of me, I can do whatever she wants me to do!…I can visit your home every day to serve
A Failed Outlook
I really don’t know where some of my ideas come from. For example, in order to keep from growing a resistance to medicine’s effectiveness and subjecting my body to unnatural chemicals, I have adopted the take-if-you-really-need-it approach to medicine. It’s as if my taking a few days or weeks of medicine will change human DNA for generations to come. But seriously, it’s not a bad idea, right? But recently, I have found that bad things (be it sickness, bruises, or men) don’t go away by themselves. I thought I could trust my body or time to heal blemishes and wounds, but I was wrong. I. Sickness Last winter in Harbin, I made my third trip to one hospital (fourth trip overall) after the doctor made me take a CAT scan and a breathing test. I was suffering from breathing problems. She told me that I needed to spend at least one week living in the hospital to get medicine administered via IV for my sickness. Excuse me, what? Are you just trying to milk me for my money? I refused to pay exuberant amounts of money for something that can be solved without needles. Upon arriving in Beijing, I saw
I’m Not Dying!
Around this time last year, I unknowingly developed an allergy to dust. My nose was constantly stuffed and I had an intense and loogie-filled cough. By springtime I was so uncomfortable that I went to health services at Brown, but the doctors there couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. She suggested I see an allergist, but I never did. Things got worse, and persisted through the summer, long after hayfever season. After finally visiting an allergist this summer, I found out that I had developed an allergy to dust. I took antibiotics that cleared up my nose, but I still had a phlegm issue that often left me short of breath. It was hard to figure out what was going on, primarily because I was moving around so much. By the time I went to the doctor at Brown, I had a few months left before going to New York for the summer, then home for two weeks, and then off to China. I went to the hospital at Harbin Institute of Technology, and getting any help from the doctors was impossible. The doctor asked what was wrong, I started to explain, but before I got into my