Monthly Archive: May 2006

Transit enthusiast’s wet dream

Wow, I don’t think I’ve actually mentioned this here before, but I’m going to be heading to Tokyo at the end of June. I’ll be there for 10 days to see the sites and take in as much culture as I possibly could muster. My interest in Japan has been slowly developing since 1995, and now, I think it’s about time I headed there to see things for myself. Tickets have been purchased, rooms have been booked, everything is all right. Although, I am a bit worried about having enough spending money on me. I have so many things I need to pay off here. In the end, I’m hoping that everything will be OK and that things will take care of themselves.

Been doing some research on the Tokyo subway system. Turns out my friend can’t meet me at the airport on the day that I arrive, so I’ll have to trek to the hotel by myself. I was pretty apprehensive when I found out that I had to do so by myself…however, after doing some reasearch, I’m raring to go at it and explore on my own. Have you seen a map of the Tokyo transit system? I mean, Jesus, that thing is immense, and quite complicated. Do a Google search for Tokyo subway system and check out one of the maps online. It’s insane! Oh, how I wish that the TTC had lines going all over the city. Check out the Transit Toronto website (the site makes for a pretty good read), look under Other TTC Maps for the “Fantasy Future Subway Map”. Oh man, if only. It’d be like a transit enthusiast’s wet dream, you know?

Anyway, no use pining for something that won’t be…not even 100 or 200 years from now, I guess.

Anyway, back to Tokyo’s system. The fare that you pay is actually based on how far you’re going. So, going a short distance may only cost you 160 yen, while going cross town may cost you…230 yen. That’s still pretty cheap. What I’m still apprehensive about is that fact that the trains will likely be packed. How am I going to manage, especially with luggage and such? It should make for an interesting experience. I wonder if I’ll be able to take it in with a good state of mind, despite the impending culture shock which is sure to happen pretty quickly. Looking forward to it.

Most of all though, I’m just ever so slightly concerned once I make it above ground again. I don’t know how clear street markings will be. I’m a bit afraid of going in some opposite direction and ending up in a totally wrong location. I know very few kanji, so I’m hoping it won’t take too much effort to get by.

40 more days to go.

Creeping back up

You know, now that I’ve moved back home, I haven’t been going out for daily walks (there’s just been no need to walk anywhere), or eating like a student (not like I’ve been starving). So, as expected, I’ve been putting the weight back on.

Let’s see. Before the term I was hitting close to 230 to 235. By the end, I was steady at 221.5. Now, things are starting to creep back up. It’s not like I haven’t been making efforts. I’ve been putting time on the treadmill and working up a good sweat. I guess all it takes is time.

The big vacation is in about a month. I’ve got to at least keep working at myself to get to the point where I’ll have stamina to handle minimal sleep, being on my feet all day, handling jet lag, etc etc. I have an indefinite goal in mind. Probably better than no goal, you know?

Undergrad, Fall 2002

I’ll be honest here. Writing out my undergrad history is getting to be a chore. It shouldn’t be that way, you know? However, I’m gonna press on with it. Although, perhaps I need to change the way I construct the narrative. Hmm.

On another note, This is now 16 days in a row with an entry posted. That’s the longest stretch I’ve gone on writing in here. Perhaps it’s a sign of having extreme boredom at home. Heh.

**Fall 2002**
There were a few things worthy of note about this term that I can remember. It was my first run through the 2A term. Holy, I remember being amazed at the very fact that I was now in second year. This was also the first time I had an elective. So, I made sure to stick in an Arts course for the sake of making me feel like I didn’t have such a ridiculous workload. I ended up taking Anthro 102, which was one of my best courses ever. I just loved studying about different cultures and such. Maybe in another parallel universe I would have ended up a cultural anthropologist. I think S and I had classes in the morning, so we’d sometimes walk over to campus together. It was nice to have someone to talk to on the way in.

It was the first time I participated in Engineering Frosh Week at UW. I don’t know what came over me, but I suddenly wanted to get involved with university extra-curriculars much like I once did in high school. I seriously don’t remember the process I went through to sign up, although I remember the people that I met. As a leader, I had an absolutely amazing time. It was my first taste of the event from that part of the week’s point of view, and I knew that I wanted more.

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The term came and went. I attended class most of the time whenever there was Anthro, although I know I fell asleep in quite a few lectures. On other days without, I was much less inclined to go, which is too bad because I felt kind of screwed in some of the exams. Damn it, those asses scheduled all the midterms in one week. That was hell!

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None the less, I still made it through. Noteworthy is the fact that this is the first time I met Henrick. He dropped in from my old class. I used to call him Henry, but I was corrected on many occasions. I think this is where Keith, Henrick, and I first started working on projects together.

My birthday fell on a weekday that year, so I wanted to celebrate with people. It just so happened that Tony Lee, the XXX Hypnotist was doing a show that night, so I thought it would be great if all of my roommates could go with me. I suggested to them that they come along. They kind of agreed, although there was no talk of buying tickets for a while. At some point, I was afraid they wouldn’t get tickets, so I went ahead and purchased them ahead of time, but I don’t think I told them until last minute. None of them expressed shock or anything, so I guess they didn’t buy. We all went and had a good time. In the end, I don’t think all of them paid me for the tickets.

November also happens to be the month that S has a birthday, although much later. After some discussion, we agreed to exchange gifts. I think the agreement was to keep it around $20 or so. Fair enough. When I was thinking about what to get him, I noticed that he was listening to his computer through a pair of headphones because he didn’t have speakers. It somehow got into my head that speakers would be the perfect gift for him. I looked up Future Shop online and saw a good pair that weren’t too expensive or too cheap. So, when I went back to Toronto, I made the trip out to get them. The local Future Shop didn’t have them so I went way out to another one which had the ones I was eyeing. When it came time to exchange, I went downstairs, brought out the box and handed it too him. All he could say for a while was, “wow(!)” in disbelief. I guess he felt awkward because he stuck to the limit and got me a volume of translated Sailor Moon manga. Pretty nifty. I already had the Japanese manga, but not the English. Thought that counts, I guess. Also, my fault for going over. However, it just seemed like the right thing.

I look back on these two stories thinking that, man, I was too eager to please, you know? It often came at my expense. I wonder, how could I forget myself that easily? Some may argue that giving of yourself is a great thing. I’d agree. Although, your motives must be crystal clear. If you’re doing it solely for approval, then that’s just not healthy for your self-esteem–especially when approval doesn’t necessarily come in the amounts or forms that your soul requires. I’ll be honest, there were times back then when I felt pretty lonely, because I wasn’t sure how people felt about me. Attempts to get their approval often came up empty, making me a little insane. I kind of regret being like that because I’m sure it put tons of strain on my relationships back then. It’s unfortunate, but that’s in the past now, you know?

Just needed a bit of perspective

Just needed a bit of perspective.

[12:04:26 AM] remember the name: all this…it’s just got me kind of feel all blah, and i’m not sure who to talk to except another filipino ^^
[12:04:41 AM] remember the name: who’s in a similar position like me
[12:05:15 AM] Who is Cam Ward: well, i can see where it can make individuals uncomfortable
[12:05:31 AM] Who is Cam Ward: but i always remind myself that the majority is not of a similar mindset
[12:06:21 AM] remember the name: for the most part, growing up, i hadn’t had to deal with any of that shit, because…well, brampton is crazily multicultural
[12:06:49 AM] remember the name: so, maybe i’m just extra sensitive to these things
[12:07:08 AM] remember the name: i suppose i shouldn’t feel bad
[12:07:30 AM] Who is Cam Ward: you shouldn’t man
[12:07:36 AM] Who is Cam Ward: it doesn’t reflect badly on you
[12:07:51 AM] Who is Cam Ward: but the people who subscribe to that particular mindset
[12:08:05 AM] remember the name: that’s very true.
[12:09:40 AM] Who is Cam Ward: though, this convo reminds me of something that one of my anthro profs told me last year
[12:10:11 AM] Who is Cam Ward: he said that no one is free of prejudicial notions
[12:10:18 AM] Who is Cam Ward: we’re all racist, in effect
[12:10:53 AM] remember the name: hm. it’s true
[12:13:08 AM] Who is Cam Ward: it is
[12:13:21 AM] Who is Cam Ward: its how you act on those notions of course that defines your character
[12:13:52 AM] remember the name: guess i just needed a reminder of that

To be Filipino

A few days ago, we picked up my aunts who went for a bit of vacation in the Philippines. They’d been there for two months, and you could tell that they felt that it was time to come back. Ever since their return though, I’ve been having this really bad feeling in my gut. I feel unsettled. I feel…distraught.

On the highway, they were already filling my mom in on all of the stuff that happened while they were there. Even though I was concentrating on the road, I still had one ear open to what was going on. The apparent difference in the level of wealth was surprising to me. I don’t think that family there is by any means “poor”, but money related issues seemed to be the focus of discussion. I was almost shocked at some of the things I had heard–mostly regarding “have not” type stories. I’m not ashamed or anything, but, it’s just foreign to me. At the same time though, this is all part of my heritage.

I was born Canadian. If anyone were to ask me about my nationality, I’d state flat out that I’m Canadian. This is where my pride is. However, inevitably, the person asking will follow up saying “No, that’s not what I meant. You know what I mean.” Indeed, I do, and still my first gut reaction is to say “Canadian” anyway. My focus on my Filipino heritage is more secondary than anything. I usually don’t have to focus on the fact unless, perhaps, I have to explain what a tabo is to my roommates, or other Filipino-isms. I mean, this is all a part of who I am and not something I give much thought to, know what I mean?

Anyway, the thought of poverty makes me sad, but also glad enough to be fortunate enough to be born here. My friend Jenelle said “best thing is to thank God that we are here and our families sacrficies to keep us here,” which is sound advice. Not only am I thankful to be born on this side of the Pacific, but moreso, I am so glad to have grown up in such a rich multicultural society. The levels of tolerance here in Toronto and the surrounding area can’t be duplicated. I’m thankful for being here, but conversely, I wonder whether this leaves me unprepared for the world outside of here.

I’ve hardly had to put a huge amount of thought into the fact that I’m a minority. It’s not actively shoved in my face. So, all in all, I’ve felt just like another average Canadian. But then, you hear stories in the news that almost make you suddenly all too aware of who you are. Have you heard yet that story of that little kid in Quebec? He was eating his food with a fork and spoon, which is normal for Filipino culture. The teacher told him something along the lines that he was eating like a pig and separated him from the rest of the kids. When the mother got wind of what happened, and told the principal of the school, she was told that when in Canada, they should eat like Canadians do. When my family heard of the story, they felt indignant, saying that they should have respected other people’s cultures. I agreed, but at the same time, I felt bad at the story. I mean, here’s a kid who was shamed into not wanting to eat anymore because of some cultural habit. Now, to be fair, the school claims it was not about the eating, but about the child being unruly…but…if that was it, where did all this mess about the eating habits come about? Something must have been said. My heart felt heavy for the kid. That could very well have been me when I was a lot younger.

Oh, then there’s the whole story about Jeffrey Reodica who was shot in the back three times by a police officer. I don’t know the details, nor do I claim to. Yes, the murder is disheartening, but the part of the story that hit me harder was hearing about the slur “go back to the Philippines and eat rice” apparently uttered by someone involved in the incident. What the hell.

As I’m typing this, my mind is having a lot of trouble processing just what that slur meant to me. This all happened here in Toronto: the very place I’m claiming to be tolerant. I just don’t get it.
**EDIT: In retrospect, I shouldn’t comment on this case at the moment.**

See, all of these sad stories are making me think about what it means to be Filipino, and moreover, Canadian-Filipino. It’s good to have to meditate on such things every once in a while, but the fact that it is the intolerance that is making me question who I am, is making me sad.

As usual, all I can do now is to continue to do my best, and hope that my future children will experience the tolerance that I was fortunate to have lived through, and perhaps that that tolerance will have been changed into true acceptance.

I love Engrish

Was booking a hotel room in Japan.

The site gave me the following error:

Error code : PUB012
Now, since a hotel system is maintaining, reservation cannot be accepted. Although humiliated truly, you reserve time anew or please give me reservation by telephone.

Awesome, awesome. lol

Layout changes

So, if you’ve been here before, you’ll have noticed some layout and design changes to this place. I would just like your opinion on how it looks. Please let me know what you think of the modified colour schemes and tweaks.

I will be changing that banner image at some point. I’ve lived with it long enough. It’s time for something new. As for what…well, not sure yet. It will take a while to get a final product for that one.

Undergrad, Winter 2002

Just yesterday, I was in a long chat with Zi that really started with me asking him his opinion on how I’ve changed over the past little while. Since I’ve been writing these undergrad memories, I’ve really been unearthing a lot of things that otherwise probably wouldn’t have seen the sunlight again. I was questioning whether it was really a wise idea to be digging up these corpses. I’ll be honest right now and say that I don’t know. I mean, at this point (Winter 2002) I haven’t really hit the heavy stuff. I’m not sure a lot of it is worth bringing up at all, because some of it may have me questioning old motives and states of mind to the point where I may think of myself as being a generally messed up.

Not that I’m relying on him to figure out my state of emotions, but he did make me feel like “messed up” is a bit too strong for my case.

Anyway, I guess I’ll continue to forge my way through and write another long one. I’m sitting in my comfy chair, I’ve got a big mug of pear tea, and I’ve got Bj�rk going to get my in a pensive reflective mood. I think I’m set.

**Winter 2002**
I was just glad to not be away from what I once deemed to be my only social network. I can’t honestly say that I remember otherwise, because I was just so focused on those few people. I was afraid of losing them. Why? I don’t know. I had links to them, because we all came from the same highschool. Although, I never really did hang around with them a whole lot back then, so. You know. I guess I was just still uncomfortable with being away.

Anyway, through Y, we had found a nice townhouse not far from campus. On S’s birthday in November before the Winter term, we gathered in Y’s house to play Mahjong for a little while. I had bought a cake for S, so we used the time to socialize, and generally talk about housing. This was a long way out for me. Brampton is nowhere near North York. Anyway, we got to a point where we drew for rooms to see who would get what because they were all different sizes. There were three rooms upstairs, and the big old basement which wasn’t quite underground, so the one who got that room still got enough sunlight. It just so happened that I got first choice. I chose the basement. (Based on my personality, are you surprised at all?) M got the big room upstairs, Y got the medium room, S got the small room. Prices were adjusted based on the room sizes.

When we moved in, things were nice. Despite the fact that I had absolutely no furniture in the basement, I got by. Wait, that’s not true…I had a couch. I bought an inflatable bed and that was fine. There was also no closet, so I had to buy what was affectionately called the “pseudo-closet”. Honestly, it was kind of ghetto, but it was my own private ghetto.

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I hadn’t lived with the girls before so I didn’t know what to expect. After a little while, the first thing that became an issue was that Marie’s BF was there all day, everyday. To be honest, I wasn’t used to the concept of someone technically not living in the house, you know, living in the house. I don’t think the other three of us were sure about him living there either. The three of us went for a walk just to talk about how we weren’t sure how to deal with it. One day, with M alone in the living room, she and I had a little chat. Now, I’m an honest fellow, and I think I sometimes come off as being blunt. I’m sure that’s how I seemed with her that time. I told her our concerns. She also gave me feedback that her boyfriend wasn’t feeling all too welcome with me saying things like “Oh, you’re still here?” Heh. To be honest, I wasn’t trying to be snippy or anything. Although, I realize now that I came off that way. Again, I was honestly surprised to see him there all the time, especially when he had his own place, you know?

Sigh. The private conversation was a really bad idea. The whole thing came to a head that night. There was a big fight between Y and M, and some really bad bitchy things were said that made both parties cry, then Y’s boyfriend got involved, then S and I got involved…it was all just very very WRONG. There was already some not so good feelings between the two boyfriends, but this incident got worse. It was all just so bad that I tried to escape to my basement abode. I eventually got called on it for being a bit of a pussy for not being in the fray and not dealing with the issue, so I came back. It was BAD. Tensions were high in the household for a few days. I rued the fact that this new living situation was supposed to be a new beginning where good things would happen. It just didn’t seem that way. I think this rough start set the tone in a very low level way that I never was able to change as long as we all lived together.

Things got more livable though as time passed. They still had their projects together while I was often alone. We still went out as a house now and then, but more often than not I was just there. I cooked often back then, and the volume of stuff that I cooked was frequently large. I think it was an attempt to socialize by tempting them all to come eat with me. It worked sometimes. Others…well, I felt a bit lonely when there was no one to share my hard work with.

I do believe that this term was also the first time my relationship with S started to go into weird territory. Looking back, we had very different personalities. I was a lot more open and often wore my emotions on my sleeve. He was more reserved. I had no problem telling people that I cared about them, or that I loved them and valued their friendship. My big problem back then seemed to be that I all to often placed that same expectation on other people. When they didn’t reciprocate, I felt bad. I think that’s what started happening with him. I told him a lot about how I valued his friendship. I think it was all so very awkward for him. I suppose I don’t blame him for thinking so. I can go into some examples where he simply *had* to assert his masculinity to deal with awkwardness, but I won’t because that would be inappropriate. Whenever I joked about him surfing for porn on his spare time, he got mad at me. I joked about other personal business type things and it just made him madder. Perhaps it was my way of getting his attention or getting a reaction. I dunno. It was all so long ago, you know? Anyway, I think this all started a cycle of resentment that snowballed as time went on. I suppose it will all become clearer as I type about subsequent terms, but for now let’s say that things started getting uncomfortable.

School was a bit of an eye-opener. I was a bit apprehensive about returning. What would people think? It mattered, I guess. The first class was in the computer tutorial lab. I looked around and didn’t really see anyone familiar. Then again, most people were sitting at the stations so it was hard to see everyone around. Soon, the matronly instructor was doing her thing, and eventually got to a point where she was mentioning that there were a lot of people joining that class from the upper year. There was some murmuring over that from the new class. During that moment I suddenly felt like it was all a joke and was generally jovial and laughing at it all. People were looking over at the unfamiliar guy, surmising that I was one of the flunkies. I don’t think I cared. In Calculus class, during a tutorial, it was easier to see just who came with me. I remember there were a good handful. When we saw our old prof from the previous term, we all cheered “Prof. Zoran! HEY!” I don’t think he knew how to react. I’d imagine he would have been happy to see us under other circumstances, know what I mean? I got to know some of those that came with me. It’s kind of interesting how I probably would not have gotten to know any of them if we had continued on with our old class. However, they were, and still are very wonderful people.

One of the first people I got to know was Duong. After class he invited me to go eat at a Viet restaurant in the plaza next to school. I’d never had Vietnamese food. I’m very glad he introduced me to that. Man, looking back, and thinking about how I felt back then, I must have been like a total social newbie. Something as simple as chatting over big bowls of beef rice noodle soup was really very novel, and quite thrilling. Perhaps it was just the fact of meeting new people and forging connections when I feared that I wouldn’t make any new ones. It was a big relief. Soon, I got to know more people in my boat. If I remember correctly, this is where I first met Keith. I really don’t remember the circumstances, but I do know we did some labs together in the computer labs.

We (being the people from the old class who joined this new class), collectively but jokingly, labelled ourselves “Abort, Retry, Fail”, or ARF. We really formed a mini community within a community. The new class was had a very different feel from the old one. It’s really true that groups have collective personalities. I can’t really describe the difference between the old class and the new class, because I honestly can’t remember. Perhaps it’s just that this new class was kind of whiny. They got away with a lot of easier courses and such, mostly because there was often much complaining. Hell if I know how they managed to do it, but they did. I suppose in the end it helped me out a little bit. Of course, I can’t use that as the only reason I made it through that time. I actually made it to class pretty often that time around. I was in fear of screwing up completely and being kicked out. Learning things over again would have been really easy, if it were not for the fact that I had missed way too many classes before. Funny how that works. I was very relieved to see that I had passed the term. I felt like I finally realized just how tough things could get if I didn’t work hard enough. It’s a good lesson to learn.

I think that’s all I care to talk about with regards to Winter 2002. I may add more later on, but I think that’s it for now.

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