“Emergency”

What was so nice about the last two weeks was that I had nearly zero contact with my parents. It was so refreshing to not have to dread some senseless argument, listen to my parents accuse me of doing something else to hurt them or reject them, or really, any of their usual drama where they victimize themselves and make others out to be predators. The closest annoyance I had with them was when I had food sent to their house shortly after I came back, and my dad sent a pseudo-thank-you email. I call it “pseudo” because he basically said, ” Thanks for the food… But it arrived at 6:20, and we had already eaten at 5….” In fact, they usually eat at 4:30. Well, guess what? Delivery services for dinner usually start at 6pm — that’s considered a normal eating time. It’s not my fault that these restaurants don’t cater to his senior-citizen eating hours. And even so, they can eat the food the next day and the day after that. The food isn’t going to spoil. Why can’t they just express gratitude and leave it at that? Is it really so hard?

So the drama has to begin again once I get back into this country within a week. My aunt texts me to tell me that my parents hurriedly left the house in their car this late afternoon, and when my aunt asked my mom if everything was okay, all she said was, “It’s an emergency,” and ran off. That’s always a good way to make sure everyone is calm and collected. So immediately, my aunt is confused and tries to call me to let me know. I wasn’t immediately alarmed given the nature of my parents and their secrecy, so I called their house and their cell, and no response. Multiple calls later, still no response. My aunt then calls to inform me that they’ve arrived home, but my mom is resting according to my dad. So I figure, okay, now they are definitely home. So I called the house. Three times. No response. They can clearly see it’s me on the caller ID. Why is he not answering the phone?

I call my aunt again and tell her that they still aren’t answering the phone, so she suggests that I e-mail my anti-social dad. So I email him and asked why he wasn’t answering the phone, and that my aunt said it was an emergency. What was going on? Is everything okay?

Within a few hours, this is his exact response: “It is not an emergency. Quit calling so many times.”

So, I have a few thoughts on this response. 1) He failed to disclose what the issue was, 2) he’s completely deaf to the fact that my mom called this an emergency, and anytime anyone calls anything an emergency, with normal people who actually care, well, they might actually be concerned, and 3) maybe if he actually was going to be a mature human about this, he could have… I don’t know… just answered the phone and told me what happened so that I wouldn’t have had to call so many times?

Ivory Game

I finally got around to watching the Netflix documentary on elephant poaching in Africa called The Ivory Game tonight. And just as I thought I would, I couldn’t help but get teary-eyed watching these conservation specialists roam Africa, finding these dead elephant carcasses, all with their tusks cut off, some even beheaded. The way that elephants bond is so precious, and in some ways, could be even more human than the way humans interact. When an elephant in a herd dies, the rest of the herd mourns; they even cry to express their deep hurt and suffering.

In the last seven years, the elephant count has decreased across Africa by 30 percent. From the 1970s until now, the total elephant population across the continent has decreased from several million to only about 400,000 in 2016. And it’s all because of the ivory trade in China and Vietnam.

Even though it was on my TV screen and it wasn’t in real life, it really hurt to see the dead elephant bodies. It’s already so terrible to see human bodies dead — from a size perspective, elephants make us seem like little mice. So to see the dead bodies of the largest creatures on earth staring at you — it’s like the worst form of death, a true erosion of living beings all because of the disgusting greed of human beings.

When we were on our safari, noting that elephants were the largest animals in the bush, I asked our guide who elephant predators are, and he was stone faced as he responded, “Man; man is elephant’s greatest enemy.” Of course, lions will go after baby elephants since they are smaller, but for the most part, though lions pretty much rule the land, they won’t go after adult elephants because of their sheer size difference. And given the elephant poaching, anti-poaching units are staffed with people risking their own lives to keep these elephants alive.

Elephants and people are dying just for ivory.

Engagement

A good friend of mine recently got engaged, and he came over tonight for dinner as we discussed how the proposal happened, what the plans were for their wedding, and everything related. Stereotypically, when we think of engagements, we think of them as exciting events, times when the couple is extremely happy and jumping out of their skin delirious about their future together. But with this situation, my friend was happy, but not extremely excited; it seems like the right thing to do for him, and he’s moving forward with it. He cares about this person, but he’s not head over heels in love with her. It just makes sense.

I’d be so devastated if I ever found out Chris felt that way about me when we proposed. But I guess that’s why secrets exist; you can’t always share everything.

Maybe it’s just the romantic in me. Yes, people get married out of necessity all the time. It’s not always love that brings people together. It’s money, politics, legal crap, immigration — you name it. But I think everyone kind of deserves the excitement and chaos that comes with a happy engagement. It’s hard to replicate that excitement in any other situation in my head.

Back in the office

Even though I had come back to the office on Friday, only four people showed up given that it was the day after the major “bomb cyclone” that hit the entire Northeast. It was quiet, and I was actually able to get a lot of catch up work done. Today, everything was buzzing as it always was. It was as though nothing had changed since I left.

It always seems a little hard to come back to the everyday life that you lead when you were away in a place so foreign and different where you actually felt like your mind expanded. How do you then properly convey what you learned? Does anyone actually really care to hear it? Well, why would people care that much that I suddenly have this obsession and deep love for elephants just because I saw them up close and fed them and saw them travel in herds, playing and bathing and taking care of their young?

Here in New York, the “concrete” jungle that we love so much, we’re so far removed from the elephants and the rhinos of Africa. We live in our own bubble, ignorant of the daily struggles that others go through simply trying to live, and also risking their lives to ensure that future generations know the beauty and intelligence of these creatures. Suddenly today, standing at my standing desk and working at my laptop with a large monitor attached, my work suddenly felt so meaningless. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my job or the people; it’s quite the opposite of that. It just felt like in comparison to the conservation work that people were doing in South Africa and all over the African continent, my work seemed so trivial.

Chinese medicine

Since we got back from South Africa, Chris has already backed up all our travel photos from this trip, so when we are in our living room, we’ll have our photos play on our Chrome cast as our TV “background.” Many clear, vivid shots of the rhino we saw during our safari appeared, and every time it shows up, I admire what a pretty and cute creature it is.. and get angry about how the Chinese and Vietnamese people are poaching these innocent animals and randomly believing that their horns will be a cure-all medicine for cancers.

But while I was thinking this, I was also flipping through my trusted Cantonese cookbook today, especially given we are homebound due to the 9-degree temps we’re experiencing today, and I found an herbal tonic recipe for persistent coughs and mucus. It contains figs, apple, and “almonds” (the almonds are actually apricot kernels, hulled and unhulled). I looked it up on the web to discover that many people who had tried everything from cough syrups to lozenges to even prescription cough medications had no luck suppressing their coughs until they made this drink for themselves.

Maybe not all Chinese medicine is a fluke. Maybe I should even try making this.

quiet city

When it gets far below freezing in Manhattan, the city becomes a bit of a ghost town. We peered out our window this morning on a day where the high was supposed to be 11 degrees Fahrenheit, and there wasn’t a sound. We didn’t see anyone walking on the streets at all. And when we finally hauled ourselves out of the apartment to have an early dinner and get outside, even if just for a few hours, we found that the popular Thai restaurant walking distance from our apartment, which usually has an hour-long-plus wait no matter what time of the day you decide to show up, had multiple tables and bar seats open. That was NOT normal.

These are the times when you just want to hibernate and not go outside. But actually, for popular places that usually have a wait, if you really want to go, these are really the times to go and not have to deal with the senseless waits of regular days.

Plowed streets

I’ve been living in Manhattan for 5.5 years now, but I still haven’t forgotten the difference in the plowed streets of this borough vs. the lack of plowed streets in Queens when I lived there my first four years in New York City. Some days, it felt like we had to dig our way out of the subway stations and on side walks and streets, and it seemed like the neglected land of the entire city. The streets were always quickly plowed on the Upper East Side as well as where we currently live now. From our street to the subway to get to work today, it was perfectly cleared out for me this morning. All the sidewalks were salted, and the snow was cleared away to walk on the streets.

I wonder what it looked like on my old street in Elmhurst this morning.

Prepared food at Whole Foods

It was a snow day today, with winds howling and snow falling endlessly until about 5pm. We both worked from the apartment and took turns having our own space to do our work calls. I was determined to leave the apartment to get some fresh produce. We actually have a pretty well stocked freezer, but I was really eager to get fresh milk, juice, fruit, and vegetables. Frozen produce can only satiate you so much.

Chris was insistent that we not cook anything and get prepared food, so since I was going a few blocks to go to Whole Foods, he suggested I get prepared food from there. I haven’t gotten hot prepared food from Whole Foods since 2008, literally — that’s over nine years ago. I forgot how expensive it all was — $9.99/pound. The food seemed generic and uninspiring, so I decided to give the Indian food a shot — channa masala (chickpea curry), “tandoori” chicken thighs, vegetable “biryani,” and some Sriracha and honey brussel sprouts. The channa masala didn’t taste like curry. The tandoori chicken tasted more Chinese than it did Indian. The vegetable “biryani” was definitely just yellow rice, likely colored by turmeric, with vegetables tossed in. The brussel sprouts tasted like what they should have tasted like, but I would have preferred it if I just roasted my own because these tasted almost boiled… which is by far the absolute worst way to prepare brussel sprouts, and the main reason so many people think they hate brussel sprouts.

I’m never getting prepared food from Whole Foods again. I’m even boycotting their salad bar.

Bomb cyclone

After enjoying 70-87-degree F weather for the last two weeks, we’ve come back to New York today with weather news of a “bomb cyclone” coming to the entire Northeast. I never even knew such a term existed until I read news reports about the winds and snow we’d expect over the next 24 hours. What joy.

The greatest thing about going to the Southern Hemisphere the last six Christmases is having a temporary break from the miserable snowy winters of New York City. Although I willingly live here and truly do love New York, I will never quite embrace the winters here. I dislike the threat of cancelled and delayed flights. I hate the low temperatures and the wind chill. I really cannot stand walking so slowly and carefully to avoid slipping on black ice on the ground; it’s a health hazard. I’ve had colleagues at previous companies break multiple bones from a simple slip. And as I’m getting older, I’m more and more careful about how I walk during these icy periods and never, ever run. Snow is the worst.

Apartheid Museum

January 2nd was like a full day’s history lesson of all the details of Apartheid that I never had in formal schooling. Though the TripAdvisor reviews mostly said you could spend about 2-3 hours in the museum, we spent 3.5 hours in the museum and had to rush through the last part of it because we were due to meet with a guide to take us to Soweto at 12:30pm. If you really wanted to read everything and watch every film and hear every recording, I think you’d probably need at least 4-5.5 hours at this museum.

The museum is a brutally honest depiction of everything that happened in South Africa, from the beginning of the colonization through the fall of Apartheid to the end of Nelson Mandela’s presidency. While the District 6 museum was a close examination of what happened in that specific area of Cape Town, the Apartheid Museum exposes everything that went wrong throughout the country, even during Mandela’s presidency.

I wandered through the museum reviewing the different parts of the exhibition and wondered why the U.S. has to be in such denial about all the atrocities that we have committed. We still can’t even fully discuss slavery and its impact on African Americans today. The concepts of institutionalized racism and sexism seem to be nonexistent to our country’s right wing base; it is all about how people on the left supposedly view everything through some racial/gender-based “filter,” and we just don’t know how to escape it because we’re constantly and wrongly thinking we’re being oppressed. Even with the Roy Moore scandals, people defended him, saying that women were being paid to lie and accuse him of assault and sexual harassment that never actually happened. President Dipshit basically insinuated that anyone would be better as Alabama senator than any Democrat…. even a sex predator, which isn’t hard to understand given Dipshit is a sex predator himself. We still can’t believe women or people of color today in the U.S. It’s always the white man’s voice that reigns.

Somehow, despite Apartheid having ended just over 20 years ago, I feel more hopeful about South Africa’s progression than I do about the U.S.’s. There’s something about the energy I’ve felt here, the honesty about the past, that makes me hopeful.