Mental Compartmentalization

Recently, I was sick with a fever, probably the flu, hopefully not the swine flu.

I’m still sick, with a cough. It’s interesting how I couldn’t figure out how to effectively describe my illness to others, but only thought of a word in Korean, that might translate to something along the lines of “full body fever.” My language study of Mandarin is forcing my mind to compartmentalize words, depending on how often I use the word, I need to use a specific language to express it. Interesting… my mind is separating itself into little language cubicles as I split into three separate people, with three separate names to go along with it.

I took the GRE with a high fever, and expectedly bombed it. At this point, it’s not looking like I’ll even be applying to graduate programs, because A. there are no real programs that I’d pay to attend, B. I don’t know what I want to do. Life is increasingly complicating, perhaps because I refuse to do things that I know I need to do. It really looks as if I’ll be putting all of my eggs in the Fulbright basket, and if so, it’s a somewhat risky move to stake my future on a vetting process out of my control at this point. Application is in, and those that need to deliberate need to deliberate and get back to me, I have no say anymore.

I don’t even know if writing is seriously in my future… and that’s questioning the backbone of my education thus far, the engineering done with words… I suppose I’m getting to the point when I need to question life, and essentially regain control of my life thusly.

I’m not big on politics. That is to say, I have a very weak foundation in history and without history, politics seems impossible to talk about. Of course, I have my own views, as to pro-life/pro-choice, war, &c. But I try not to talk politics because that seems to attract argument, useless dialectic, much like “creative writing” attracts both pretentiousness and sulking. Generalized, but often valid. I read on my facebook newsfeed, someone’s status as “We’ve been in Iraq for 8 years.” I think it’s something more like 6 years, but even so, that is a long campaign… for what?

There’s a poem I came across, using four characters, 2 onomatopoetic characters of “ping” and “pong,” a character that looks the same meaning “soldier,” and a final character 丘 meaning “mound,” as in earth. It’s an interesting use of the visual for a poem, and I really love how a simple glossing footnote might do enough to explain the sounds, and let the reader take the poem as he will. I forget who the poet is, but he is a real artist.

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“The Woman with the Tattooed Hands”

Been stuck on this after a few days affair with Yann Tiersen.

Amazing track by Atmosphere.

A ridiculously beautiful track by the pride of the Midwest.

Also, Awesome sample of a sample from Biggie.

“Rear Window” 16mm

So here I am, online during work. Of course, my work consists of screening 16mm films or other more modern forms of media for film courses here at Rutgers.

As the school year is now into full swing, I’m realizing that the workload, while cumbersome, isn’t the end of me, that is, providing I prepare for the following week on weekends. More importantly, I’m readjusting to the idea of consistent(ish) creative writing and reading of literature. Yet through all of this, I’m trying to keep from being consumed as I often am by the “high school” feeling of certain classes. Essentially, the college feel of prestigious-pompous (whichever you prefer) university classrooms are not exactly typical at Rutgers, but I suppose that might be because, as in the case of my language classes, I am still only in 300 level courses. No matter, the pursuit is our person’s will.

With every passing day, work seems to pile up in the metaphorical inbox: GREs, need to register for GREs, look into graduate programs, begin applying to graduate programs, find referees for applications, apply to fellowships, find referees for fellowships, do well in school to graduate with highest honors, do well enough to actually absorb the material. And in all of this, I’m learning to enjoy life, in whatever circumstance, as Michener (of UT-Austin’s Michener Center for Writers fame) wrote, “The really great writers are people like Emily Bronte who sit in a room and write out of their limited experience and unlimited imagination.” I agree that the really great writers do not necessarily require extensive travel for the breadth of a global experience, then again, I’m not a great writer, so maybe I can cop out in this away. Nonetheless, the days that begin with breakfast at home and dinner with family are not to be forsaken or underestimated, this much I know.

In retrospect, this blog doesn’t serve as much more than news of myself to people while in Taiwan, but even so, emails were of better quality, I think, at least more personable. I can’t say what I plan to do with this wordpress account, but I foresee a major overhaul if not deletion, I have journals for my thoughts, and can’t say I offer much to others in them. We’ll see.

Also, I’ve been watching some television as our new cable box for the “digital TV” whatever allows us many more channels than normal, and so, who let Kanye drink on the red carpet? and has he gone mental?

“Mr. Hur, welcome back.”

How quickly my exhaustion subsided once I heard those words from the customs officer.

I am now on my fourth full day back in the States. I apologize for not updating, but then again, this was for my sake. An actual journal took the place of this digital archival, which I anticipated. There is so much to write if I were to expound upon my Taiwan travels, and more with regard to my self discoveries. I have yet to develop my film shot with my Holga (mostly because I learned that all of the supermarkets have done away with photo processing centers), or organize any thoughts jotted down during the trip. I’ve been forced, by time, to jump right into my life; pick up not where I left off in May, but at the point to which the summer has pushed my idling U.S. life. The semester has started, I am officially a senior, and I will be taking the GREs, applying to graduate schools and fellowships/scholarships, and graduating.

My body has yet to accustom itself to US Eastern Time, and I have yet to refamiliarize myself with America. My mind is running in circles trying to keep from letting my must-do list chase me to insanity. However, I am home.

Technology Humbled

So, I’ve been leaving my macbook precariously hanging off of the edge of my bed’s separate independent backing. It fell once already, I should have taken that as a lesson. This time, it refuses to start. I don’t know if it’s dead, but I’ll have to wait until my return to the States to think about fixing it.

Thus, I’m left without a computer, and an ipod that’s been forcibly restored with 1/1000 of the songs I had. My life has been taken down a notch, technologically, which I think is honestly for the better. I’m trying to live as simply as I can, the bare necessities. I’ve found myself buying some clothes, but I qualify the shorts and beaters as necessary for this sort of weather. The scheduling of rent payments and scholarship direct deposits are not working for me. There’s usually a lapse of about a week and a half before I receive my money after I pay my rent. This leaves me fairly poor. Of course, I’m used to budgeting sparingly, and I also have a pretty high tolerance of certain quality of life conditions (see: very low maintenance).

So, with this new situation that has arisen, I will be online less, and probably updating even less than normal. Snail mail can be sent to

” Taiwan, R.O.C.
 Taipei City   JinShan South Road
Section 2    Lane 185   No. 30  4F”

Good luck if you do send mail.
I plan to be online to check correspondences and email accounts every Monday (Taiwan), so if you hope to catch me for the upcoming week, be sure to send by Sunday evening.

The Culinary and the Pecuniary

I just had a dinner of 김치찌개 and 소주, a Kimchi stew and korean potato liquor.

A while ago, a friend teaching abroad, now found at http://jimsligh.tumblr.com/ , wrote a post about missing something as American as Mac and Cheese. The things my taste buds miss most are not handmade hamburgers, grease trucks, Jersey diners, not even wide slices of pizza; I miss my mother’s Korean food. It’s the taste of pure, unadulterated steamed white rice, kimchi, and some sort of stew or soup. Of course, all of this must be accompanied by the clear flavor of soju/소주. There seems to be a large demographic of Koreans abroad here, specifically in Da-An District, Taipei City (臺北市大安區）。Yet, it only makes me become more aware of my particular… image. I don’t exude “Korean.” Most of the locals assume I’m Japanese, albeit because of the hair, but there’s something about me that prevents any assumption of Korean, even from Koreans. Only in America am I asked if I’m Korean.

If nationality is concerned with the cultural aspect: habits, norms, wont; what is ethnicity? If it’s the blood (that reacts to Korean liquor), I’m Korean. If it’s the knowledge and self-acknowledgment of heritage, I’m Korean. If it’s the social grouping and exclusivity… perhaps, I’m not? It matters little if one knows of the 三國 (three-dynasty kingdom) history, what a 족보 (family lineage relic) is, let alone searching for it, and if one is familiar with the twang of a 가야금 (kayageum). The more I learn about my blood, the less able I am to “belong.”

The aroma of kimchi is welcome to my olfactory glands…

The after-bitter of soju is something to savor…

///On a different note, I went to the Jade market/Flower market at 安東市場 (An-Dong market) and bought an orchid and a morning-glory plant to add life to my room. As well, an Eight Trigrams trinket to add peace, or at least hope.

Photograph Links

+ 故宮 (National Palace Museum)

+ Apartment, “Gold Mountain South Road”

+ 碧潭 and last days at Happy Family

+ 臺北 induces a lot of calluses

+ Taipei 101

+ Generalissimo 蔣中正

+ 台灣 by way of 頂溪

2 whiskey’s a night and I don’t even feel it

This week has ended with but what else, drinking.

The one constant that might have saved me from becoming overwhelmed with loneliness is drinking.

There is no real drinking culture here, bars are bars and though liquor is sold in 7-11’s,

alcoholism does not seem to be as prevalent as… Korea or the States.

My social antics have been limited to the group I’ve formed with another Rutgers student, his friend, who is also a Rutgers student,

and a Minnesotan I met at registration 3 weeks back.

We’ve formed a “crew,” but consisting of very different personalities.

For example, tonight started out with all of us at dinner with one of their friends,

and then ended with me and the Minnesotan drinking with one of his classmates, a Columbian.

Drinking has been and still is the default “social activity,” even if it is only the atmosphere that we can lay claim to as being social.

To recap the past week, much anxiety has been resolved… to an extent.

Money has come through via the Taiwanese government depositing into my post office account here.

Classes have set into a routine. I’ve sort of established a sleep schedule, that really just consists of a consistent 5 A.M. waking.

Calligraphy materials have been bought and I hope to develop a consistent ritual.

The gym is a somewhat frequent destination for me.

Yet, in all of this, I can’t help but still feel… unsettled.

I look around and soak everywhere I go,

but what I soak is what I want, somehow unattainable, socialization.

Foreigners have found other foreigners to commiserate with, internally or externally.

Many people seem to have found each other through the initial registration/orientation by being countrymen.

Did I make a mistake in finding Americans too early?

I plan to keep my head focused, study, after all, it is what I’m being given money for.

I’ll study and perhaps, an opportunity will come my way that offers what I yearn.

The silhouette of frustration

I’m moved into my new apartment/room, set up my post account, and have nothing to really do but study…

yet I don’t have a class. I was placed into a level that exceeded my speaking ability, and half of the conversation I didn’t understand. Yesterday (Friday), I went to a new class and tried out a level below, and was still kind of flustered. Monday, I have to attend as many sessions as possible in order to find a class that works for me. I will most likely be moving down another level, 2 below the initial placement. Bureaucracy at Rutgers is one thing, this, in a different language, is something else. I suppose this is a good opportunity for me to take things with more ease, learn to be less rigid, but… it’s hard.

I’ll post pictures sometime tomorrow if I get a chance, and my computer doesn’t kick (I knocked it over and the lid came off), of the apartment, of the school, of everything. Sometimes I wonder if my life isn’t getting more difficult, as far as each current situation goes, as if life really is a joke that God’s playing on us. I need something akin to the routine, even sleep is fleeting and my mealtimes are whenever. 

Tomorrow, I might study… though with all of these different level classes, I don’t know what I should look at first…