A Turkey-less Asian Thanksgiving

I read in the news that the President pardoned a pair of turkeys who would otherwise have landed on the White House dinner table tonight. Well, in an Asian household, we don't really eat turkey to begin with (my mom doesn't like the taste, and neither do all the other Chinese moms). Instead, this is what our Thanksgiving feast looked like:

Hotpot! It was delicious. Here's a picture of the pot itself:

The things floating in the soup are fishballs (the white ones), meatballs (the brown ones) and tofu cubes. The submerged orange things are pumpkin cubes.

I never quite appreciated being home for the holidays until I found myself eating dining hall turkey in college over Thanksgiving. It wasn't too bad, especially since I had friends whose folks lived too far away for them to celebrate Thanksgiving at home, but there's nothing quite like being home with the family. And having tasty hotpot.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

The Problem with Time Travel

I recently saw, and was amused by, this Abstruse Goose comic:

http://abstrusegoose.com/526

History buffs are often asked (in the process of making an acquaintance) what time period they'd like to inhabit, or at least to visit for a little while. I find that I tend to give answers as if I were white, male, and Christian (my main area of interest is pre-modern and early modern Europe). After all, the Scientific Revolution, or Republican Rome, or the Italian Renaissance are fascinating times to have been alive if you weren't being downtrodden, persecuted, or discriminated against. (I imagine that, being both female and Asian, I would have twice as much difficulty as either of the above characters. I wonder if the probability of death by persecution would increase logarithmically with each undesirable trait?) If I were to actually consider the logistics of visiting a particular time and place, I'd be largely limited to China and, well... there really isn't a good historical era in which to be female.

BBC: The Japanese Quest for the Perfect Fruit

Asian gifting (and general social niceties) taken to a horticultural extreme:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-radio-and-tv-17352173

It's an interesting social phenomenon, but seriously, that technology and effort could be put to so much better use! If horticulturalists in Japan had only chosen to attempt, say, breeding better crop plants and alleviating hunger in the developing world, imagine all the good they could be doing. It reminds me a little of the way the Japanese electronics industry developed; for a long time, they were among the most reliable manufacturers of electronics in the world, and yet, they stuck to making things like televisions, and kitchen appliances, and little toy robot things. They innovated, of course, but it was mostly on a small scale -- how to make a better circuit board and the like -- rather than dreaming big, as big as they could have. And now, given the way the Japanese economy's looking, it might be just a little too late.

Anyhow, I don't know how that turned from "look at this interesting, slightly ridiculous cultural quirk" to "let's solve all the world's problems." But -- just look at all those melons in a row!

Academia in the East and West

I was reminded of this quite excellent article, which I'd bookmarked a long while ago, after catching up with my friend over the summer:

http://scienceblogs.com/principles/2011/08/the_status_of_science_we_have.php

We were discussing sciences education, and the differences between the culture of academia in (East) Asia versus in the West. We observed that in Asia, there is a lot more interest in the sciences among students (grade school and undergraduate) than in the West. However, it seems that academia (in the sciences and otherwise), is dominated by Western institutions and Western publications. There have been attempts at many levels of institution and government to correct for deficiencies in each area; Western governments push for better science education, and Asian universities for more prestige in international academia. Both deficiencies, methinks, are problems endemic to their respective systems.

There are, broadly speaking, two distinct skill sets that academics ought have: that of teaching, and that of research. As argued in the above article, the Western system is skewed to reward the latter much more than the former. In every step of the process, from the new graduate student's first day to his becoming a respected professor, the Western academic is evaluated based upon the scholarly material that he produces. The quality of his teaching is secondary; the bulk of his effort is invested in honing his skills as a scholar, rather than as a teacher (so long as his teaching is not so poor as to inspire too much complaint). In fact, as the blog post argues, it is generally seen as a waste of time -- at least by the metric of career advancement -- to teach any more than is required, and certainly to engage in outreach beyond the university community. (My friend is a TA, so I'm inclined to take his word on this.)

Contrast this with academia in countries like China, Japan, and Korea. The culture in these countries respects and values good instructors at every level, so there is a lot of emphasis on effective teaching. This translates to interest in the sciences among students in middle and high school. In the Chinese system (with which I am more familiar, out of the three), this is further accentuated by the fact that students choose their emphasis -- a binary choice of humanities or sciences -- in high school. It's a pretty even split, and switching to the other side is discouraged. This ensures that about half the student population is at least nominally interested in the sciences.

But I digress. In Asia, at the university level, professors are expected to be able to command a lecture hall of hundreds. They're seen as founts of knowledge dispensing wisdom to their charges, essentially. Producing new knowledge, however, is a different kettle of fish. The system is such that until recently, professors didn't really need to publish. There was no real incentive for doing so; there's no need to gain legitimacy in one's field when one already has the support of an institution and a legion of awestruck students, and when there's no outside reward (or pressure) for such efforts.

The best system would be (as expected), some ideal combination of the two. Easier said than done, of course. But given increasing globalization (which is in itself another discussion), perhaps a merge of the two might yet be accomplished.

Unintentional Humor at the Chinese Supermarket, Part III

It's been a while since I posted some of these, and I've accumulated quite a few new photographs, so here's some supermarket Chinglish (and other strange Asian things) for your amusement:

Umm... sounds gross. Like mud pies -- something little kids threw together that their parents would pretend to eat while tossing the thing in the trash.

Crab lumps? And "special" meat. Sounds like public school cafeteria "mystery meat." That, or meat injected with hallucinogens. Maybe that's why it's $9.99.

Is the bow supposed to somehow make the fan more appealing to shoppers?

Amusing on a number of levels. Persian pickles grown in Mexico. Also, Persian pickles are actually a term for the teardrop shapes one finds in paisley patterns.

And that is one huge apple. It's half the size of my sister's head! (Brett, this one's for you!)

Unintentional Humor at the Chinese Supermarket, Part II

One of the first things my family did, upon arrival in Los Angeles, was go to a Chinese supermarket and buy a week's worth of food. My sister and I wandered off after a while, and this is what we found:

This was in the cosmetics aisle. It says, if you can't quite make out the blurry lettering, "Smash Fixer". Well, if your face just got smashed, I'm not sure a pot of powder or whatever would do you much good.

This isn't so much Chinglish as just a "huh?" moment. It's like saying to someone, "Don't throw kiwis at stop signs", when the addressee is neither outdoors nor in possession of kiwis. Or something.

I am told by my sister, who is learning Spanish, that "bonita" means "pretty". The sign was on a display of rather unexceptional dead fish.

Only Asians would package dried mushrooms in flower-festooned cardboard boxes.

These are durians. They smell really bad, but actually taste pretty good. They also look like abnormally large hedgehogs. We were amused.

I'm not sure if crackers that are "cheerful" seem any more appetizing than crackers that are glum, or annoyed, or indifferent. Maybe they meant... cheer-inducing crackers? Errr...

Asian supermarkets seem to favor consistently poor choices of adjectives. "Silky" is no more palatable than "cheerful" -- perhaps less so.

Umm...  "idiot" steak?

Well. It appeared to be body wash (or at least, it was in the section labeled as such).

Panda milk seems a little too exotic, not to mention, illegal.

And this is a watering can. Cute, if disturbingly so.

NYTimes: Waiter, There's Soup in My Bug

Speaking of insects:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/22/dining/22bug.html?hpw

(I first noticed this article for its title. Go figure.)

This story is amusing to me because I've eaten my fair share of insects (silkworms and waterbugs, and some other bugs for which I don't know the English name). Silkworms are actually really tasty.

I find it interesting and rather illogical that most of the Americans I know are squeamish about meats outside of their normal poultry, pig, and cow. What is so special about these particular species? If it's just an issue of emotional attachment or specific associations, would you eat, say, a dog or a cat you did not know, of a breed you had never previously encountered? If it's a matter of hygiene, would you eat a mouse that had been cleared of diseases and thoroughly disinfected prior to cooking and eating?

I don't subscribe to any food taboos; I'll try anything once. Hey, I'm Asian. :)

Today

is the 168th anniversary of the Treaty of Nanking, which concluded the First Opium War, famously ceded the territory of Hong Kong to Britain.

Of course, Hong Kong was repatriated many years ago. I vaguely remember the big hoopla in 1997, when we all watched the ceremony on the television, and there was a lot of noise and celebration and dancing in choreographed patterns (it seems that every major Asian celebration includes dancing in choreographed patterns).

Today

is the 1931st deathday of the Emperor Vespasian, who was arguably one of the best emperors to ever rule the Roman Empire.

Vespasian ascended to the throne from relatively unimpressive roots; his was a family only promoted to the senatorial class after the fall of the Republic. Although he had been consul prior to becoming emperor, he is more known for his military exploits, having been involved in major campaigns in both Britannia and Judea (as the areas were called in those days). He came to power during the period of unrest known as the Year of the Four Emperors, of which he was the last surviving contender for the throne.

As an emperor, and as a man, Vespasian was known for his forceful personality, his generosity, and his support for arts and letters. He rebuilt Rome after the civil war, adding many new buildings and public spaces, including the Colosseum and the new Roman forum. He favored leniency in dealing with political opponents and took criticism well. All in all, he was a man I should have liked to know, and a fine father to his people, rather like Caesar Augustus.

How Many Alarm Clocks Do You Need?

And now, for something totally unrelated to the oil spill:



It's so true, and so funny. That bit with the milk-retrieval especially; it's very Asian, and I could see myself doing that. In fact, I do want to try it sometime, but all the doors in my dorm open inwards.