Who we are is who we were!

Have you watched the movie called 'Amistad'?
I often wonder what shapes the outlook and conscience of a person. Is it our upbrining or is it what we face in our life while we grow up or is it one single incident that changed our life?
When I was a kid, my parents impressed upon me that honesty and principles were the most important aspects of life. To be able to live a life with your head held high and not resort to any kind of fraud or trickery. But as I grew up I realised that the world was not as idealistic as the stories that helped me shape my morals in my early days. Certain incidents in my life forced me to confront the harsh realities sooner than the time most other people have to face. I learnt to be more self dependent and seek out answers on my own, rather than just believe on what our parents or teachers taught us. So it may not be wholly wrong to say that I learnt about the realities of life much sooner than an average kid. It was not an easy task growing up that way but somehow I managed to keep a 'normal' exterior and blend in with my surroundings just in order to gain social accpetability.
Perhaps people do not realize the importance of this term well enough. In my opinion, this is the single most dominant reason why people do not act that the way they are. Social acceptability is such an important component of 'civilized life' that we are eager to change ourselves to conform us with the beliefs that people have about us or the beliefs that 'acting' accordingly benefit us the most. In many ways I do not conform with what social norms dictate me to be. Is it an psychological anomaly or is it something else?
In my opinion is it something totally different. A few years back I was just like everybody else, trying to conform myself with the 'socially acceptable' norms and trying to be 'normal'. As my parents had taught me, I always tried to choose the path that gave me the best possible outcome. I'd never dared to venture beyond my comfort zone till a few years back. But it all changed the moment I dared to venutre beyond the familiar.
A fundamental fact of life is that I do not trust anybody and that is without any expecetation. But I find that whenever I've trusted anybody I've always been pleasantly surprised. It first happened about 4 years back when I's trying to negotiate a deal with a travel agent in a north-east Indian town about  a trip. My common sense urged me to not to belive in him and bargain as hard as possible for the best deal. At that time I gave in reluctantly and a few days later I found myself staring at the most amazing thing I've ever seen in my whole life since then. It was a snow filled valley at the end of which there was a fabulous peak. I've been to a lot of famous places since then- some of the most celebrated places on earth, but nothing amazed me more than that view where the road ended and it said 'Donkiala 0km' and I stared out into Chinese sovereign territory. Boundaries that separate sovereign states do not act effectively when it 'demarcates' beauty. And it was at that insant that I learnt that who we are is who we were. The present does not affect that view, it only facilitates to bring out who we truely are.
Since then I've been to a lot of 'grand places' but nothing convinced me to be who I'm. A lot of people are unhappy just because they want to be what someone else expects them to be likewise. They may derive momentary pleasure from the fact that people recognize them because they conform with what people expect them to be but I can bet that they are not truely happy. It only comes from realizing the fact that you are living the life who you really are. It does not matter what others think about you. The greatest joy in life is about living it the way YOU wanted it to be and not what OTHERS expect of you. Inspite of the many 'apparent shortcomings' in my life I have a distinct feeling of satisfaction at what I did. I may not have taken the easiest path but I'm happy with the outcomes. And I believe that is the most important thing to do in life is to "Believe in yourself and be who you REALLY are!"
Do you have any stories to share on who you really are and who you are now? How does society compel us to act the way we are and how difficult is it to live on as a non-conformist? I've learnt to ignore the strange looks and the disapproving glances. Have you?

The origin of chopsticks

The last post had a few comments on regarding chopsticks, how people grip them and some questions on its origins. So I decided to pen down my own thoughts on this matter. My initial search led me to these two pages:
Chopsticks and What is the origin of chopsticks? 
They give a pretty basic idea regarding the origins but a few moments of thought led me to consider certain basic things. For example, visually the chopsticks resemble human fingers more than fork, knives or spoons. So they should be a more logical choice for the extension of human fingers when it comes to eating. The above pages cite reasons like the simplicilty of structure, ease of manufacturing, being cheap, the dominance of vegetables in early Chinese cuisine as the reasons for its origin and popularity in China. Later on it spread to its neighboring countries- mostly on the east of China but surprisingly not towards the west. Many different kinds of explanation might exits but my belief is that it had something to do with the staple diet of the people in these countries. In China, it was rice and so in the countries to the east of China. Now rice also happens to a staple in many parts of India and some other countries but chopsticks do not feature there. I think the reason lies in the way rice is cooked in these places. In east Asia the rice is more glutinous and the grains tend to stick together which makes it possible to scoop out a 'ball of rice' with chopsticks. In other places the grains of rice are separated and thus not possible to eat it with chopsticks.
People use either their hands or things like spoons, forks, knives or chopsticks to eat. Each group might find it difficult to use the others method for the first time. For example, try watching a westerner struggling to eat rice with hands or an Indian struggling with chopsticks. But what happens with a neutral person. Consider an idealized scenario where a person who knows nothing about either chopsticks, spoons or forks-knives is given an option of choosing any one of them? Which one would he/she pick? Would it be the chipsticks because they resemble fingers most closely? Certainly it would depend on the kind of food. For example if it's soup, a spoon would be the most obvious choice but what about some solid stuff like a piece of meat or vegetable or rice. Once again with the rice, I'm sure it would depend on the way it is cooked - Indian style, East Asian style or a Risotto. But it'd be really interesting to study the outcome of such an experiment. A proper and unbiased study might also indicate the evolutionary basis of the origins of various cutlery.

Hold it your way!

If you are not used to it, using a pair of chopsticks for the first time can be a nightmare! As it often happens with first-timers, keeping it stable is a monumental problem. The very probable outcome is stray pieces of food escaping from the clutches and flying around the table - occassionally hiting another person who happens to be 'within range'! Slowly with time the first-timer gets used to it and may even flaunt his/her skills by conducting a symphony with a pair of chopsticks gripping a peanut.
Before coming to Korea, my exposure to chopsticks were rather limited, as most 'Asian restaurants' in India are sensible enough to have the other options. But once in Korea, things were different. Barely a day had passed before we were thrust into the 'Orientation Program'. If the long hours were not bad enough, there was the added pressure of using a chopsticks during every damn meal. After a rudimentary demonstration, we were put to the test. My primary considerations (in decreasing order of priority) were:
1. Not to spill anything on my clothes.
2. Not to spill anything on the clothes of the people sitting on the same table (most of whom were suffering the same fate!)
3. Not to let the food become projectiles and hit an innocent passerby.
4. Transfer the food from the plate to my mouth.

With full concentration on the above priorities, I could have had a smooth sailing but since it was the first lunch together, I was also supposed to make 'small talk'. Here's what happens if you try multi-tasking with a wobbly grip.
The person sitting opposite to me was asking me something while my undivided attention was on picking up a pickle from the plate and keep it stabilised for sometime before transfering it to my mouth. Understanding my dilemma, she tried showing me how to grip it properly. A lapse of concetration for a split second, the lack of friction due to steel chopsticks and sweaty palms due to the humidity is an ideal recipe for accident. The pickle, yearning for freedom, escaped from the cold grip of the steel and took off! Luckily in landed on No-Man's land. Phew, no collateral damage!
It has been more than a year since those infant steps (or grips) and I feel fairly comfortable with chopsticks. Yet I often hear that I don't grip it correctly and many a times my friends have tried to mend my grip but with no success. People who have known me for sometime might attribute it to my stubborness. My argument is - even if it's 'academically wrong', it works perfectly for me, so why change over to something else? 'Hold it your way!'

So yesterday during lunch, I decided to document how people around me grip their 'sticks'.
Firstly the 'right way'. I call it the wide convergent grip. The index finger provides the motion while the thumb and rest of the fingers provide the support. The ends are wider apart than the tips.

Then comes what I call the 'scissor grip'. The thumb, index finger and the middle finger provides both support and motion. The chopsticks cross-over under the thumb like a pair of scissors. Though it looks wobbly at first site, in deft hands it is remarkably stable and effective. A loud slurp followed this picture and the noodle that made a wobbly journey on the scissor grip disappeard into his mouth.

Then comes my favorite - the 'middle-finger grip'. Here the motion comes almost exclusively from the skillfull articulation of 'the finger' with some help from the thumb. The remaining fingers provide support.
One bit of advice - think twice before pissing off someone with 'the finger' grip!

And finally 'my grip'. Though aesthetically not the most pleasant one, it is solid and reliable, forged through a large number of embarassing experiences. Here the ring finger and the thumb provides the bulk of the support, while the index and middle finger gives the motion.

What's your grip? Is it one of the above or a different one? Do you have an intersting 'chopstick story' to share?

With reference to the last article on the 'F-H anomaly', I discovered new anomalies recently.

 

If you can't read Korean, it reads 'Hurench Pie'. The English translation is 'French Pie'. The funny thing is that though the pie is spelled with 'H', other things French are spelled without anomaly.

'Fighting' for the 'Fried' Chicken!

Cultural differences manifest itself in all sorts of ways. When I came to Korea for the first time, I was taken aback by the fact that people had cakes with chopsticks. I had read a lot about Korean society just before I arrived here, so I was spared from the 'traditional culture shock' and I was complascent that I was prepared for surprise Korea would throw at me. I was soon proved wrong. On a birthday celebration in our lab, right after the birthday song, people jumped onto the cake like a school of hungry piranhas with chopsticks! I stared at the scene with a gaping mouth. From that day onwards, I was always on the lookout for possible surprises.
'Fighting' is a very popular word in Korea with a rather positive connotation. It is used as a 'spirit booster' and is equivalent to 'Lets do it!', 'Go for it!' in English. Its used to cheers somone up or at the start of a match. In the Korean script its written as 화이팅 and it was not untill I read it in Korean that I realized that it is actually pronounced as 'Whiting' instead of 'Fighting'. Now the surprise was that in Korean script there is an alphabet that corresponds to the English alphabet 'F' or the Greek 'phi' - 'ㅍ', then why use 'ㅎ' which corresponds more to the 'H' sound?

I had almost forgotten about it when suddenly I found another such example. I was looking at the menu for ordering 'Fried Chicken'. The menu was in Korean and I was looking for a word starting with the 'F' sounding alphabet 'ㅍ'. There wasn't any! It took me a few moments to realize (from the picture next to the name on the menu) that what I was trying to order was actually called 'Huried Chicken' or if you can read Korean (inspired by Jim Carrey in 'The Yes Man') '후라이드 치킨'. Once again 'F' and 'H' swapped itself.
I contemplated for a few minutes after ordering but forgot about it as soon as the chicken arrived! I accepted this 'anomaly' as a part of my daily life until one evening when I was having a drink with a few friends. One of them was majoring in Linguistics, so I asked about the 'F-H anomaly' (what I've come to call it).

The guy in the white turtleneck and black jacket is Jungang Ik, majoring in Linguistics and helped me deconstruct the mystery of the 'F-H anomaly'. He said that in Korean, 'ㅎ' was phonetically closer to 'F' due to the aspiration. He then went on to give some other examples (which unfortunately I don't remember now) and explain it in greater details. The discussion on Linguistics was brought to a halt by cake at the center of the table. It was to celebrate the start of work on the 23rd issue of the QUILL - SNU's English journal. Once again the cake and the Mojito (that arrived soon!) interrupted my quest for devling deeper the 'F-H anomaly'. But now that I've got my answer, I just played along with the socializing on Gecko's Terrace!

A Matter of Taste

Whenever I have a very peaceful and tranquil phase in my life, some crisis turns up to spoil (or spice up) the mood! Now is one of those carefree phases with the crisis yet to materialize and I'm soaking in the moment as much as I can before the inevitable happens! Part of the happy times is enjoying good food and eating out alone is my new found obsession. It has affected me to such an extent that I even volunteered to make the analysis of the authenticity of International cuisine in Seoul as the topic of the Feature section of the QUILL - SNU English magazine, a section that I edit right now. May be it was inspired by Tony (Anthony Bourdain of 'No Reservations' fame) or maybe it was because of the fact that staying in the dorm, I can't cook now.
So for the time being, I quench my thirst for food by eating out, which though somewhat expensive, is an interesting thing to do. On most of these ventures I'm usually alone - taking pictures, reading something or writing down my feelings. The problem with eating out alone in Korea is that you get a lot of 'unwanted attention' and weird glances. But I kinda enjoy this and being the kind of person I'm ... I hardly give a damn!
So this Saturday afternoon, instead of eating alone, I decided to eat with Xing - my first friend in Korea. One of the reasons I preferred eating out is because I'm supposed to edit an 8 page section on the authenticity of International cuisine in Seoul. And for the past 2 weeks, I've been on an eating out spree ... and I'm loving it!
So on a perfect Saturday afternoon I ventured into the Daelim neighborhood of Seoul where there is apparently a high concentration of Chinese-Koreans and hence a large number of 'authentic' Chinese restaurants.
The journey started from one of the exits of the Daelim subway station along one of the many non-descript alleys next to the station. When I get tired of the high streets of Seoul, I like venturing out into these unremarkable side streets where the locals are enjoying a nice fall afternoon in the sun or some kid is learning to ride a bike. Somehow these simple scenes makes me very nostalgic and I find myself totally absorbed in the scene until I find myself about to be run over by car. This time I was saved from a (possible) pre-mature death by Xing.


After a bit of searching, we found a restaurant serving Sechuan cuisine - something Xing was familiar with (being his home province). So while Xing looked out for cars I clicked a couple of pics of the outside of the restaurant.

Once inside, I was relieved to find out that they had good beer (the Chinese Tsingtao .. which is like elixir when compared to Korean alcohol) and meat. That's all I need to complete my lunch .. some good meat and decent beer!

We ordered Shabu-shabu. Its thin slices of meat to be cooked in boiling stock. In our case it was a mix of spicy and crab-shrimp stock. Xing explained that usually in hometown of Chengdu, the spicy stock is even more spicy.
Then the discussion veered off to topics like Confucius, Chinese literature and arts, Xing's opinion about people from Urumqi (northwest China) and his somewhat skewed opinion about Korean culture. But when someone is speaking out his/her mind, I let them do it without interrupting.

Anyway, the meal ended when I couldn't eat any more and we decided to spend some more time lazing around in E-Mart. We spent more than an hour looking around the supermarket - joking at how people were running around, staring and smiling at the naughty kids troubling their mothers and evaluating alcohol. Amongst us, we bought more than 4 litres of alcohol - a mix of wine, scotch, beer and gin! The lady at the cash counter gave us weird glances but I'm seasoned now, so I just smiled at her and held out my card.

Call of the mountains ...

Its a strange thing. It makes waking up early in the morning a pleasure! This time it was a peak called Birobong in the Chiaksan National Park near the city of Wonju, about 2hours by bus from Seoul. The bus ride was very nice .... comparable to a business class flight. The weather was perfect but I was soon to discover that my fitness level was far from it. Back in June, when I went hiking for the last time on Hallasan (Korea's highest mountain) I was in great shape .... covered a 4.5hour trail in 2hrs 40mins! At present, after a bout of bad luck, bad health and a week in the hospital, my fitness level similar to a couch-commando! So with wobbly knees and keen spirit, I embarked on this 'return to the nature'.
After the usual motions of transportation and tourist information, we were at the 'bridge' (below), the starting point of the hike.

First stop was Guryongsa (temple of the nine dragons). Our aim was to "Slay the dragon and save the princess" and since it was the temple of 'nine' dragons, there was plenty for the 4 of us (Stepan, Nik, Kolay and me). Kolay being the power-lifter was supposed to slay most of them! And behold, as we approached the bridge, the dragons were there protecting it. But lo ... they turned out to be wooden ones and even more wobbly than my knee!

So instead of slaying them, Kolay-the power lifter, decided to sacrifice himself for one of the dragons (above).
We walked slowly towards the temple under the canopy, looking around and soaking in the scenery.

After crossing the gate, we came across an enclosure with cairns (stones ceremonially piled on top of each other).
Guryongsa turned out to be a small and beautiful temple. We looked around for a while before venturing into the wild for the real start of the hike.

The first stretch was flat and runs along the stream. One of them had an interesting emerald green color.

Whenever I see running water, I cannot pass the chance of taking a picture, even though I've clicked many before.
One day while talking to my roommate, who also shares my interest in photography, I commented that running water and open flame turns me on. And every time I see a running stream, I can't stop myself. This time Nik also seemed to make use of these snap-stops to click a few.

After the Fall (more like tap water flowing over a rock), the trail started climbing abruptly. At places the gradient was almost 60degrees. And my lack of fitness came to fore. After about a few hundred steps, the pain in my thigh and hamstring was becoming intolerable. Under normal circumstances, the artificial steps and the ropes would have robbed the trail of its 'naturalness' but now it was a life saver.

After about a thousand steps, there was a opening which provided the opportunity for some photos and a much needed rest.

After climbing for about an hour we reached another opening in the forest from where the plains beyond the mountains opened up. Time for another break!

Quiet contemplation turned out to be a perfect excuse for resting my legs, which were aching very badly by now and the knees were beginning to hurt as well. This is particularly troublesome because we still had a few hundred meters to climb and the descent was still awaiting us. However, the view and the rest reinvigorated my body and spirit, and I was ready to move once again.
After scrambling for about half an hour, we finally reached the top. The sun was getting low on the horizon. But it was a great satisfaction to reach the top.

After a 'celebration' snap, we were ready for the descent. We would climb down a different route.

The climb down was much more difficult than what I had anticipated. Firstly the gradient was unforgiving - a drop of more than a vertical kilometer in just over 3km, which means an average slope of about 35degree. I had to stop after every few hundred meters to rest my knees. We haven't had anything other than a few bits of chocolate since breakfast and it was almost dusk now. We had run out of water and my sore throat was getting worse without water. After climbing half-a-way down, we came to monastery, where there was drinking water and we quenched our thirst. After that the road was metalled and we almost ran down the last 1.6km.
While I was climbing down, I got a text message from a friend asking me if I was free that evening for an opera show. Yeah, I was free, only if I could prevent my knee-cap from falling out! The information office at the base of the mountain was closed and so we were left clueless about the onward more of transportation. From the topography I could make out that we were still in the mountains and doubted it buses could run on the narrow roads. Just as we were wondering about what to do next, we spotted a group of Ajumas (Korean name for middle aged women). They were out for an evening stroll and I asked them about how we could reach downtown to the bus terminal. To my surprise I found myself speaking Korean quite effortlessly and perfectly understood what they said - no bus from here, you have to take a taxi ....
I had lost interest in learning the language further but that experience taught me the importance of being fluent with the language, especially when you venture deep into the Korean heartland far away from the big cities. One of the ajuma's called up a taxi and gave us directions for reaching the 'rendezvous point'. We thanked them and went ahead towards the pick-up point. It was a charming place nestled in the mountains with small inns, straight out of a picture postcard. Finally, we spotted out taxi which took us back to the neon lit city. After a nice dinner of grilled pork, we headed back to Seoul .... tired but satisfied.

Ambitions of an old man ....

Many years back at the dawn of my political conciousness, we had a Civics teacher in high school - Mr NP Singh. He was famous for his heavily accented English but he has had a lasting influence on me, though it was immediately obvious. I owe my current interest in International relations and modern history, to lectures of Mr Singh. I paid close attention to his usage of words (as well as his ideas) and was quite popular amongst my friends for mimicking him impeccably. He also had a pet name amongst the students - "Nathhu" and he tried to impose some control during the tumultous years after Dr Goswami's retirement as the principal.
Once there was a discussion on the issue of the titular head of a state and the office of the Indian President in particular. Some student expressed his/her displeasure over the fact that most of Indian Presidents were old men well into their 70s and lacked the charisma and media-savviness of other presidents like Clinton. As an answer to this, Mr Singh said that old men were chosen not just for their wisdon but also because the President is also the supreme commander of the armed forces. This somewhat confused us and judging by our looks, he elaborated further. Since the President had the armed forces under his control, it would be dangerous to appoint some younger person with ambition for power as the President. If the government didn't work according to his wishes or if he perceived that the people were going against the government - he might order the army to sieze power from the government and would take control over the country - thus shattering the democratic fabric, India is so proud of. He claimed that old men were not ambitous or energetic enough to achieve this and hence only old men were appointed as Presidents. And for a long time I was completely convinced by this idea.
However, last night I was reading a book on Ayatollah Khomeini's life and and analysis of the Islamic Revolution in Iran in 1979. Khomeini was a 77 year old veteran back then and his ambitions, aggressiveness and ruthlessness was in direct contrast to the idea of old men that I had developed since my high school years.


The picture above shows a picture similar to the one in the book where Khomeini is looking directly at the camera. This intensity of his gaze is simply amazing. The black turban, the long black robe and the white beard enhanced the look. For a moment, looking at the picture, I came under the spell of the 'Imam' even though I knew very well what he is in reality.
I wonder how Mr Singh would react to the case of the Islamic Revolution.