This has been, not could be, not might be, not is possibly, but beyond any reasonable doubt IS, the longest morning of my life.

 ’Twas my 23rd last nigh. Yes im old. My muscles ache after every sporting excercise. I got my first HK massage on the 24th and it was painfully pleasant. There is nothing I want more than a massage after the first day of skiing of the year. YOWWW!!!!!!!! Anyway, skip to the beat. 12:15, Wan Chai, fun district HK. Start the night off with flaminf Sambuca in the mouth with fume inhalation. As max says, feeling good feeling great. Well, that was the first baby step of many that night. many many many. make a long story short, we got kicked out of a  french bar, frogs!@!!!! went to a crazy bar, and then to a late nighter. ended up drinking having fun with random people til’ i looked outside and…shit!!!! it was light ! not light, but LIGHT!!! Like suits after suits walking outside. the club did too good of a job with the blinds and I thought it was 3 am perpetually, it was 8:30.

Aye, and there’s the rub. Flight to the philippines at 11:00. I sprint to the MTR, get in a taxi, go up to campus, lose the taxi and wallet on the way back, find the taxi, and then coax it to fly to the airport with 500 HK, half the price of my plane ticket (LUDLUM style, except i didn’t take my own minibike from some punk) Kept going and going. Forgot to mention, my friend took my bag (including passport) from my room at campui to the airport withouth telling me. CVampus trip was in vain. Anyway, made it to HKG in record time, run to the counter with 45 min to spare, and this one is for you ALEX…. I WAS NOT LUCKY. FOr the first time in my life, the dice landed against me. It took me 2 hours and almost a police warrant to get my bag. missed my flight.

 almost out of time. bought a pack of cigs. chain smoked, l;ike mom, and found out Matthias missed the flight too., his bags are hgere too. i await for his arrival and then we will fly somewhere random, just to get away. this country is ridiculuous with rules. i will write more later. this airport sucks almost as much as france.

ok, see you!

Well I participated in my first case of outsourcing today. I was sitting in my Game Theory class, the only difficult class in my feather-lite 10 credit semester, where I was dreaming about Sprague-Grundy functions that I read about a few hours earlier. One particular problem came up in the hard shell I call my head that stumped me. After sketching it down, and consulting with my fellow occidental, I was still unsure of the absolute answer (it involved a cycle, which complicates things in games obviously, since a game could technically go on forever, and ever, ever, ever, ever……………) Well, I decided to screw it, when the idea came into my head to make use of my resource rich environment. I mean, I was surrounded by hard-working, career-orientated, problem-solving, number-crunching Chinese machines! After some quiet explanation, I hired the help of my Chinese neighbor, who through the wonderful evolution of globalization, happened to be sitting right next to me; physically, not just figuratively…the world is shrinking! It didn’t take much to get him jacked about the problem, and in no time he whipped out his printed text and lecture notes, neither of which I have yet, even 3 weeks into the semester. After I pawned off the work, I went back to dreaming, and occasionally absorbing some info on the board. I sat there, twiddling thumbs, enjoying the fact that someone was enjoying doing my work for me. After 10 minutes, I decided to check out the problem again. Like everyone’s brain, one side of mine likes to work while the other side is on vacation. This sub-conscious thought is more powerful. I glanced at my hired machine (I didn’t even have to pay a dime) and then down.  I followed the cycle and finally came to my personal sloppy conclusion about the problem. I was satisfied with my approach and solution. Only about 30 seconds later, my Chinese neighbor tapped me and presented his solution. BAM! He asked me what I came up with, and I explained my solution. After I was done, he gave me his. BAM! BAM! It was the same solution, except for one fact. His method was more comprehensive, and would make more sense on paper, though essentially it was the same thing. This is the thing that worries me about outsourcing (or western outlook, more generally), as it provides a cushion of comfort that could (locally, in my case) prove detrimental to my own, personal outcome. I got lazy, knew I could exploit the guy next to me, and in the end didn’t develop a skill that I will need in the future that would’ve only taken 10 minutes to develop (for a test). I haven’t taken a single business class in my entire life, so all these ideas could be wrong – or addressed already – but this seemingly mundane experience kinda rattled my spine. The true reason for outsourcing is to pawn off work at the cheapest price possible in order to better be able to perform different tasks, usually involving more skill. This episode, however, didn’t fit for two reasons. 1) I used my extra time to dream and not solve other more complex elegant mathematical theorems and 2) I didn’t have the skill to work on the harder problems in the first place. The crazy thing about it all is the guy next to me was able to perform AT MY LEVEL OR ABOVE, but for free. Since I demanded value for my thought and he didn’t, I would’ve been burned in the market. Well this is what I fear is happening already (this may be old news for everyone, but I like writing it out). At first the US merely outsourced unskilled labor, for manufacturing and production purposes. Through the natural progression of things, these manufacturing processes began to evolve. Among the outsourced labor, managers/groups that could perform most efficiently and cheaply were the ones getting more business. At first, these managers could have been westerners, but through observation, local managers would rise up, who would manage for cheaper than their western counterparts. Well, this consumption of the subsequent latter rungs is continuing. Out of the local managers are emerging district managers, national managers, global managers: all slowly but surely replacing their more expensive western equivalents. It’s simple evolution and eventually even the biggest fish in America will be displaced if this pattern is continued. Companies like Intel have humongous research facilities in China that are run and operated by Chinese, and it is so cutthroat that if you can be outperformed even marginally by one of the 1.3 billion guys knocking on the front door, you’re out of a job. How the hell hasn’t Intel moved everything there? Thank god for some national pride. I feel like this kind of thing is inevitable even without outsourcing, but outsourcing definitely acts as a catalyst because we are the ones that planted the hearty seeds in Asia. Soon Asia will be in direct competition with the US, and will be looking to outsource. If there is enough unskilled labor in the US, (most likely south of the MD line!!) maybe they’ll outsource here!

Well I just walked away to grab a beer and kind of lost my train of thought, but I guess I’ll conclude with a few things. This sucks, I think I left some thoughts undeveloped!!!! Story of my life… Anyway, conclusions: Be good at what you do, and offer something that may not be obvious to everyone else (and keep it non-obvious). Don’t be lazy. I was lazy, and now I’ll have to work twice as hard to catch up and excel to be ahead of my competition. With this point comes, don’t let others do your work. If that happens, third parties will talk to them, not you, and you’ll be S.O.L. because you have nothing to offer. Make use of the time you gain by pawning off easy work by learning new skills. A diverse set of tools is a very strong trait to possess, because many people who accept outsource work do so because they are good at that specific trade. Don’t compete with them, but instead understand something about it, so you can find the most effective use of their service when confronted with a more comprehensive problem they would not know how to handle. Sure, I gave the guy an SG problem, but I couldn’t used the time to learn something about 2-player nim-sum games; I didn’t, so I lose. I know all you older guys, like Doug and Diana know this crap because you use it already, but I think it’s pretty good advice? Well, I’m off to go exploit this English institution I’m working for by making them a website to book teaching slots for western teachers while getting a cut of each booking. I know jack about site design, so I’ll get my Chinese neighbor to do it for a small sum…while he’s still cheap.

More blog on actually happenings here next time, I just felt like going off with this for now.

Preview: Rimas teaching 8 screaming 6-year-olds English = pain in the @ss

So much stuff has happened in the past 7 days that I feel like I have been here for at least a month already, but in a good way! I’ve totally gotten some eye-popping glimpses into Asian culture, and makes me think that any westerner pursuing Asian Studies is either really stupid, or just cookoo. Asians just operate on a completely different bandwidth.

Classes have started and I managed to finagle 3 classes on Tu/Th and only 1 (maybe none!) on M,W,F which will provide ample opportunity to skip out of this joint for long weekends. We are already planning a trip to Phuket (ha phuket!!) in a few weeks. Next weekend we’re going to Macau, which is the Portuguese colony (taking after Las Vegas) next to Hong Kong for those who are ign’nt on the subject. Supposedly there is an international fireworks COMPETITION there next weekend, so we are excited to see assorted infernos blasting in the sky above this little Far East gambling mecca. Also some people are planning trips to ‘Nam, Phillipines, and one of my most anticipated destinations, ‘ze junglays de Borneo’. The airlines are cheap here, especially from Shenzen, so I figure I’ll make the most of it. I really am looking forward to some great diving, and I might buy an underwater camera so I can capture Nemo’s soul. My friend just bought a good camera that is waterproof for up to 10m, and shock proof up to 2 meters, for 300 bucks! Good quality too, so maybe I’ll try to find an upgrade for a deeper dive. I will also soon be embarking on day photo-adventures thru Mang Kok and other parts of the city, so be ready for many sweet photos rolling your way. Well enough of what I will be doing, and more of what I have been doing.

As I mentioned before, there are around 350 international students here, wow! This gives everyone a nice pool of people to choose from, and allows me to observe different cultural behaviors. I’m going out on a limb saying this, because I’ll get a lot of shit from a lot of people, but I’ve been meeting a lot of really nice French people. That’s right, frenchies. “Quoi!??” “Comment” “C’est pas possible!” you may all be thinking, but c’est comme ca, vraiment. My roommate, while tall, goofy, and a little absent-minded (more so than myself!) is still cool. The same goes for a lot of the people I’ve been playing soccer with, the girls I’ve been drinking with (though some remain major bitches), and others that I just chill with too. Don’t get me wrong though, I am not hanging out with them regularly; they all still smell. My best group of friends still consists of the Danes and Germans. Unfortunately, most of the Americans here are not very cool, as many of you who have studied abroad probably have found out first hand. They just don’t seem down to earth at all, and everyone sees it, though of course there are some exceptions. Now to the Chinese…

Matthias, Toke, and I attended our first floor meeting. We were the only whiteys around and saw some raw Asian behavior, as we were able to participate in floor elections. Once the new floor president was chosen, they all proceeded to elect ‘secretaries of everything’, and the running joke of the night revolved around who would be detergent secretary. Ha. Ha. Once that was completed, we were told that ‘the games’ would begin. Interesting. All 40 of us crowded in the hallway and the Chinese students went on to explain our floor name to us, as each floor names itself. Phonetically it is ‘porkillas’. A week ago one of the students translated it to me as “Porkchop Killers”, so I went around telling all the exchange students that, and we were all confused. Anyway, the new prez took the initiative and explained that P-O-R-K, pork, means fat, ugly girl in Cantonese slang. His crony beside him simultaneously simulated a slitting action across his throat as a few others exclaimed, “we are Porkillas!” Yesssir, it was a good laugh. Now is when things got very strange. If you know what an ex-con is, read no further. If not and you are of male origin, fasten your seatbelts and keep reading. Girls, you have nothing to fear.

            As we situated ourselves for a good view of the action, 4 people picked up last year’s floor president (I thought he was going crowd surfing, I was deadly mistaken). As they lifted him, they spread his legs apart. Across the hall, the new president was hoisted waist high and turned on his side. His legs too were split, in a vertical fashion. The repeated chant of “P-O-R-K Porkilla Porkilla” soon followed, and not long after the dangerously twisted tradition of ramming old prez crotch into new prez crotch was initiated to the chant’s rhythm. You can simulate the action by making the scissors shape in both hands and rotating one 90 degrees and then fitting one scissor into the recess of the other. This lasted a few minutes to say the least. Next, traditional (not ex-con) cons followed, where the secretaries were hoisted, legs spread, and people took turns ramming shoulders into the secretary crotch. I’ll have a Youtube link to our vid soon. Everyone on the floor had a turn at each secretary. Soon after, underwear fights began. Basically, two guys (challengers) had to fight each other until one ripped the panties off the other. We saw some really painful looking tears. Old challengers would each choose new challengers. One time the two kids didn’t want to fight so… one of the secretaries went upstairs and brought down a fire extinguisher, which he precariously placed in the center of the corridor. Another person came from another floor with 2 large wooden sticks, and the kids who were to suffer the punishment had very apprehensive, anxious looks.  WTF?! Once some Chinese words were exchanged, everything abruptly stopped, the prez turned to us and said, “This may have to wait for another day, sorry.” WTF WTF WTF!? Asian Studies.

            I’ll just mention a few more notable things and sign off, because I don’t want this blog entry to be biblical in length. I met this one small, funny Chinese kid named Masahiro. He never heard it before (somehow) but he loves the nickname Master Hero and he gets so excited every time you mention it. Anyway, he is the typical small, dorky, friendly looking Chinese dude that we all feel compelled to hug, but packed with surprises. During the welcoming party, we had some hip-hop musika blasting and a little circle formed for dancing. Someone jokingly called out, “Yo! Master Hero! Show us your stuff!” Bam-a-lam!!!! Master Hero laughs, and breaks off into a huge, fluid handspring into the middle of the circle which he lights on fire with his lightning quick foot moves and spins. He might have well been Michelangelo, the party dude, spinning on his shell. Master Hero rocks at break dancing. That night, some friends and I partied hearty and went fridge raiding for crappy food at 4 am. We found some cookies in the fridge on our floor that I munched on, and the next day I woke up as lemon-flavored nausea overtook me. I spent the whole day in bed, and couldn’t get up for the life of me. THAT SUCKED, but I am almost back to normal.

            Last night we partied again, and around 3-4 am Matthias and I found ourselves in our floor’s common room where we again experience the weirdness of Asian Culture. This small adventure I’ll save for the next blog, in case you’ve fallen asleep after reading so much.

Sooo…. Flying in to HongoKongo was a really pleasant surprise. If any of you have been to Vancouver, imagine that, but on roids’. The city is basically a collection of massive skyscrapers that look like lego pieces vertically entrenched in the ground, surrounded by massive mountains that loom over a beautiful harbour (djea, we’re going english on this spelling).

This urban island has huge patches of industrial ports and sectors, much like L.A. around the periphery, but the main skyline near Victoria Harbour may be the most beautiful I have ever seen. There are 7 millions happy residents here and from what I have seen, almost no bums (unhappy residents). As the plane descends, everything grows big — reallly reallly big — and once landed, you already have a great view of the city. Not a bad welcome compared to Chicago’s airport where if you’re lucky you can only see a trace of the skyline off in the distance. I heard Hong Kong built a little man-made island specifically for the purpose of creating the airport, so that makes it even more badass.

Now, unlike Tokyo, once we landed we had no trouble getting our bearings straight. The airport is massive, modern, and everyone speaks English (except the city info helper we got!!!) . We were easily able to navigate the rail, metro, and bus systems to get to our final destination: HKUST!

wordpress blogs suck, i don’t feel like taking the time to figure out how to rotate this pic (but you can!)

This place is just incredible! It seriously has a 1 million star view of the ocean. The school itself is vertically organized, spanning multiple levels rather than being spread out across flat expanses, due to its being built on a mountain. It was built within 30 years I think, and enjoys the reputation of being one of the most prestigious universities in asia. This kind of scares me, since I’ll be taking some tough high-level maths with crazy asian kids who don’t drink. There is a stat at the school that only 2% drink!!! All 350 int’l students couldn’t stop laughing at that during the conference… At some parties the students gather around and chug coca-cola. Maybe they even have sugar high drinking songs?! Either way, they’re all wicked nice and helpful and love to interact with us. The only time they shy away is when we are invading the local supermarket and cleaning their booze section out (every night now). Shit vodka, OK beer, fine gin… we’ve done everything and have already experienced an assortment of asian blackouts. This is counteracted the following day by all the sports we play though.

The facilities at this school rival anything I have ever seen. Vball, bball, tennis, squash, pingy-pongy, soccer, mini-soccer, indoor/outdoor pool, track, everything! and it is all overlooking the amazing ocean! Everyday we be ballin’ for hours on end, once the sun starts to dip over the horizon. Before that, we hit the pool and play some volleyball. This subtropical climate will take some getting used to for all us fair-skinned specimens. Check out the stats below, that was today!! 89% !

We play soccer on the mini-pitch, usually 4v4 or 5v5 and it has been kicking my ass, but it is so fun. I personally dispense about 4 bucketfulls of sweat per game, and am mindful to replenish my reserves without delay. The first day I forgot water, and was seriously seeing stars. I think it was the after-effects of the Styka Vodka. Some of the Chinese are good at soccer, but the Malaysians really do suck, and complain about our physical nature. We tend to kick their ass. I woke up today though, after going to main party district til 6 last night, and could barely walk because of all the activity. I bought some Chinese topical remedy (white blosssom somethinarather) that resembles tiger balm and basically bathed my legs in it. ahhh! so good. I could wake again, but could still only average about 5 stairs per hour.

There are international students from every country it seems like. I’ve primarily been hanging out with two sweet danes and a German. Toke, Mathias, and Fabian. Oh yeh, and this swedish dude too. Real fun. There are so many people to meet that it’s getting a bit tiring, so we’ve slowed down meeting anything that walks on two legs. I still stand by my opinion that Scandinavians are the coolest people in the world, no matter from which country.

Well I have sooo much to write, and so little time now, but I figure I will try updating this every other day, since I need an excuse to stop moving and/or drinking. Ahh, the computer lab, where every engineer can always find a nice respite from the callings of everyday life. I look forward to waking up everyday here to open my blinds and see the sun shining bright over the water and mountains. If any of you want to visit this million star resort let me know, i’ll hook you up with an e-saver deal! This view from my school isn’t served well by this picture.

It’s been sunny the past 4 days, though supposedly that is very rare for this time of year. It’s very possible we may get a monsoon day or two (we got packets explaining). In those cases our classes are canceled, and just like U of I snowdays, it will be another excuse to slosh the brain. Oh yeh, this is a totally non-smoking campus. Sorry mom!

Ok bye, I write more in 2 days. jajaja

Arriving in Tokyo after having traveled for almost 24 straight hours was a relief which was very short lived as it was time to explore almost immediately. After having touched down in Narita, it was made clear right away that getting around on English would be well… Cumbersome? Burdensome? Interesting? Fun? Not Fun? I don’t know, anything but easy. If there is ever a game show that comes out that is based on shenanigans, come train in Tokyo and you’ll for sure become pro.

After finally arriving at the hostel (which by the way is very clean and well organized) we decided to take the metro to the district in which Lost in Translation was filmed, for some photo ops.

I packed my oversized tripod and mp3 player so I could listen to the AIR song that plays in one of the montages in the film as I walked through because I’m a dork like that, but it was worth it. The people never seem to stop moving in Tokyo, but at the same time all of the foot traffic is well directed, although I am waiting to get clipped by a bike on the sidewalk. At some of the train stations it is almost freaky how many people are scurrying (scrambling, aka rushing is prohibited by Tokyo Subway Supreme Law). Being a relatively tall foreigner, I find it difficult to navigate through the sea of lil’ Japans. I can win individual standoffs against the tiny peoples, but if any of these endless millions decided to unite I would surely be doomed to a Japanese stomp brigade. Anyway, the following pictures are from this region ‘Shinjuko’. The lights are bright enough to fool the travel weary into believing night is day. It was made apparent this night that the Japanese definitely view foreigners much differently than other cultures, like in S. America. Unlike Marius, as I walk down the street/subway/wherever I am not given a second glance. Not even an extended first glance. This is comforting, but also very surprising. I guess my overwhelming machismo just ain’t no thang here. Also, I have pretty good style (I know many of you would disagree) but in Japan EVERYONE has got tons of style. From hair, to clothes, to shoes, people deck themselves out. I have even read that 15 year old girls have been volunteering themselves to the very unconventional, yet rampant and even open (not in public) sex industry, to fund their fashion cravings. This leads me to the next topic.

The second day was spent observing a huge parade in our district that was basically the Japanese equivalent of Brazil’s Carnaval. Even the floats were many times written in Portuguese. The funny thing about this carnaval is that everyone participates; not just the good looking youth (see following picture).

In addition to these overweight, sagging, and wrinkled old women in very provocative dress, are small children that are forced to dance and participate. Many don’t even know what dance steps to follow, but no one seems to care.

I find the Japanese psyche to be a completely 2-sided coin. On one hand, they are very traditional and careful to respect on another. They rarely speak loudly in public, never cut eachother off, don’t make much eye contact, seem very timid, are always willing to help, and go about doing things quite independently. On the other hand, this layer of timidity is completely shed as almost all of them love to publicly entertain, through dance and music. Even if they suck, and I mean really suck at dancing, they love it and no one minds. This side is also reflected in the whole sex thing I mentioned earlier. Apparently Japanese culture sees the value of everything from two angles: true value, and face value. This type of outlook allows the Japanese to pursue their really messed up sexual desires in private while not displaying any hints of such tabooed acts in public. They have no qualms, because they don’t hold the same Judaeo-Christian values as some of us westerners do. After the carnaval I went out with some Hostel friends to a fun club that we danced at all night. Before that we had some fast food which was prepared for us in 18 seconds, I counted. The joke at the time revolved around how the Amish people of America would not be down for such fast food. The spaniards realllly liked that. The lady took our order ticket, yelled something, and the guy behind the counter somehow had the food appear and handed to the lady in 18 seconds. This is Star Trek shit, like when Warf can press a button and the machine somehow materializes some very tasty Klingon Cuisine. The stuff we ate could have passed for being of Klingon origin, but we had been drinking cheap Sake beforehand, so anything would have tasted better. After leaving the bar at 3 am, I was asked by at least 20 people [either big black dudes (the only ones you’ll see in Tokyo) or short Japanese Ladies] if I wanted to get a massage. It was fun talking to them as a very innocent person and asking why anyone would want to get a massage at 3 am. I had one lady beat around the bush (figuratively, and definitely not sexually, of course) explaining what I could get with a massage for almost 15 minutes before she realized I was a waste of time, and time is money! That was as happy an ending as I could of hoped for, before spending 20 bucks with 1 other friend to get back to the hostel. Tokyo is MASSIVE area wise, and taxis are not cheap. These drivers are pretty badass too. Dressed in a suit, nice hat, and white gloves in his immaculate taxi (just like all the other drivers), I saw one cabdriver casually smoking his cigarette with the bright lights of Shibuya as the backdrop and it was one of the most elegant things I have ever witnessed. Haha. I wish I had a camera to take the pic then, it would have been an award winner.

The next day, I saw an even more weird aspect of Japanese culture. Evidently, after a hard week of work in their ‘face-valued’ society, the crazy Japs love to let loose, anime style. Throngs gather in groups and dress up in expensive cartoon outfits, with crazy shoes, wigs, and tons of make up, as if they just hopped out of an anime cartoon. So they gather in parks, and they all have nice cameras, and they straight-up chill out and take tons of pictures of eachother. Not happy pictures either; most of the time they don’t smile in them and just try to look more badass. (check out the following pictures, I even got in for a few photo-ops).

After exploring parks, we went to another traditional festival that was filled with nicely dressed people dancing and performing with chilled music. The funny thing is that on top of the chilled music there was a very stocky, old, Japanese man in thick glasses just screaming what seemed like out-of-place Japanese military orders (see pic).

The kids in their costumes just kept dancing; it was really weird!

That night we crashed at 9:30 with the intention of getting up at 4:30 to hit up the fish market for morning sushi and then continue on to Mt. Fuji to climb. Unfortunately, shit crumbled to pieces. I woke up at 5:00 and this half-hour prohibited me from going to the market because I had to get ready for Fuji. So I did that, with my friend from Illinois and we set out for a shitty failure of an adventure. I had 40 cents left and the ATM didn’t work near the hostel. We took the metro to the train station, hoping to find an ATM there. Got there, went ATM hopping and tried about 10 in a full hour of searching before giving up. It would take my card and spit it out, politely stating through a speaker that it did not like the taste of foreign plastic. We then tried to find a bus, figuring I would borrow the money for that and find the ATM at Fuji. Unfortunately, with no English help or Info desk, we failed. We found the buses, but no western alphabet. I couldn’t find any small symbols of a little mountain. So after douching it up for 3 hours in my hiking pack, I gave up. I figure I’ll take it easy today because the next 4 months in Hong Kong are going to be INSANE.

Sayonara Suckers!

I finally find my seat, and thank goodness my exit row (aka ‘very tall’) request was heard. As I make myself comfortable, the large projection tv ahead of me brings to life a cartoon of a ball with eyes and mouth, bouncing up and down on an airplane seat.  Seems like it is the safety tutorial… the old man next to me seems to get it…

A while later, it’s -54 degrees outside, and about 35000 feet of empty space separates from the ground. The first round of drinks comes around and I go conservative: ginger ale. The old man next to me orders his first beer and what seems to be Red Bull, a la Japonais. He pours it and it is clear, so I ask what it is. I should note now that the plane is almost all Japanese. After a vacant, quizzical expression his wrinkled face also automatically morphs into a wide grin, but his eyes betray his confusion.  He still proudly answers, “Yeh! Japanese Beer!” I capitulate. Some mysteries will remain so forever, and I have an odd feeling that my unsolved stack will continue to grow throughout my asian adventure.

Lunch makes its way down the aisle and I point to the ‘beef one’. I choose not to select the JFC, in deference to the colonel.  As my tray is laid before me, I can’t help but notice how packed it was! Noodles, beef, potatoes, disgusting green beans, carrots, the tiniest miniature pickle, water, bread, some seafood salad, cheese, salami, and another mystery in the shape of a sphere (clear colored). I think about sending it in for inspection, but opt to push it to the side. I slyly sneak a few peaks at what the man next to me is doing. He’s already on his 4th drink! I follow his lead and spread sauce #1 on my noodles, after discretely smelling it of course. I eat the noodles as my stomach eagerly awaits some wholesome company. I continue to emulate the customs of the drunken old man, who is quickly becoming my drunken sensei. As I stuff my mouth, a strange, loud sound comes from next to me. slllluuurrrrpppp! The old man sounds like a bath drain, but it hits me then that this is a sign of satisfaction (I read that somewhere). I didn’t that custom applied to airplane food though! All this while the stewardesses are making their way up and down the aisles, over and over, alternating between offering coffee/tea/coffee/tea. Thing is, no one is accepting the refreshments, so it just looks goofy and all of the repetition makes them seem like robots. Whoever constructed them ( I guess ANA ) did have an appreciation for aesthetics though.

At this point I look down and read the description on my bottled water. It touts its ‘magnetic activation’ property and its high pH level of 8.2! Wow! Supposedly it is good for the body, and the power of the pH is released during cooking. I scoff and make a wish that my water turns into 8.2% beer instead. I order a beer of unknown alcohol concentration and chug-a-lug in between chopstick fulls of cold noodles and underwater creature salad.

Just as I am about to express my satisfaction with a nice slurp, my stomach tries to communicate an alternate feeling. Unfortunately, it sounds like more Japanese to me so I decide to ignore it, but I get the point. I decide to hold off on Sebastian, Flounder, and quite possibly some Ariel (you never know in Japan) and friends in the salad, and finish my beer instead. I let my stomach settle by reading more of the book on investing I brought along, which isn’t so settling either.

One last thing that took me almost the entire flight to notice was the silence on board. I was lulled asleep by the gentle hum of the outboard engines, but nothing else. The only voices I heard were those of the sweet stewardesses. Even as we approached the runway, the silence was only disturbed by the occasional rattle of a newspaper. I didn’t know it at the time, but almost at all public places people speak softly or not at all. Kind of nice!