Six hours a day. It's been a good combination as Alan is fairly understanding of my beginner status, while Zhao You (and of course, her English name is 'Zoe') is the she-devil. She barely speaks English and my two hours every afternoon with her are fraught with fear and nerves. However, I've definitely been picking up a decent amount of Mandarin and would consider myself able to "order at restaurant", "direct a taxi", "ask for directions" and "order at a bar" which are the four fundamental building blocks of any language instruction.
Some observations of the Chinese language during my study:
I'm a big Diet Coke person. I think it was late in college, due to a general distaste for coffee, that I began to utilize that artificially refreshing taste of Diet Coke for caffeinating purposes. I would consider myself enough of a connossieur to rate the quality of the mix of syrup and soda water at a foutain dispenser. I asked Alan about how to translate Diet Coke, and apparently, the literal translation is amazingly "Wu Tang Ke Le", with Wu Tang literally meaning "without sugar" and "ke le" obviously meaning cola. I can't tell you how excited I've been at every opportunity to be ordering Wu Tang soda. Apparently what the RZA and GZA actually meant to be involved with is written is more closely pronounced and written as Wu Deng.
If someone asks you a qualitative questions and your answer is "eeehh" or "so-so", the word is MaMaHuHu, which translates literally to "Horse, Horse, Tiger, Tiger"....because you're actually telling the person, "not quite a horse horse, not quite a tiger tiger". In a thick Chinese accent it's even better.
The most interest and somewhat controversial observation: the first few days I incessantly heard people, old and young, saying "Nei Gah" almost every sentence. I definitely felt a little uncomfortable and was wondering what the hell was going on. I've since found out that it is just another language transitional phrase. I've seen from Italian, Spanish and English there are many random phrases that are said constantly while people are thinking/transitioning thoughts. In Italian, the number of "allora"s or "comunque"s, or in Spanish the "entonces" or "pero"s, or in English I guess the "like"s or "umm"s are far more frequent than basic grammar would demand. "Na ge" translates to 'that there' and is pronounced 'Nei Ga' in Beijing. It's still kinda uncomfortable and racist in my mind, but the idea of looking at a menu and then looking at a waitress and saying "nei ga, wu tang ke le" is still weirdly exciting.
As the foremost trader of the Hong Kong Dollar during my epic days as a trader, I was naturally curious to find out the translation in Mandarin. Turns out, it's "Gang Bi" (pronounced Gahng Bee). I won't get further into it, but I found this funny.
That first day of Alan playing a song for me was no fluke. His Asian love for the crooner song has definitely made class much more interesting, as early on in class I noted that I wouldn't mind learning some Chinese songs to belt out during karaoke. Alan has taken this to the next level as every day, at least thirty minutes are spent going through two songs. The first translates to "I Love You Like a Mouse Loves Rice". This one, as ridiculous as it sounds, was pretty easy for a beginner in Chinese to learn and easy to sing, and was actually a major hit apparently about four years ago. We've since been working on a more intense song about a historic battle of the Three Kingdoms in about 250 AD that is kind of a Rock Opera by a group named "Tank". The best part of this song is that there's a bridge that, well let's just say, is meant to be sung by either a woman or an eunuch. Alan does not hold back as in that quiet classroom and with only the faint sound of his budget speakers backing us, he'll belt out those ever so high notes as I cower to the protection of a lower octave.
This is the "I love you like a mouse loves rice" song that we sing together. Just picture it, Alan and Me, alone in a classroom, heartfully singing these words:
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Man-dating
Note: the next few posts were from a few weeks back. Blogspot is blocked in China and I had a Kansan post the last two entries, but have now left Beijing and am working on catching up on the blog.
June 14th, 2009
Beijing has certainly more than lived up to expectations up to this point. One aspect of traveling I had completely forgotten about was the ease of socializing and making friends while abroad. I planned my trip here with absolutely no expectation or contacts in Beijing, and of course assumed, "I'm gonna just study the entire time and maybe have dinner out a few times." Well, one after the other, friend of friends keep popping up via facebook and word of mouth and its taken this from simply language study to truly experiencing the city.
I imagined this past weekend would have me eating dinner at some Lonely Planet recommended restaurant, followed by some random wandering and heading home around midnight. I'd wake up early and go sightseeing all day long. Well, it turned out someone from my high school had been living here for the past six years and his work in PR allowed him for both an extensive network of both locals and ex-pats, along with knowing a good deal of local bar and restaurant owners. My quiet weekend turned into two nights of three hour-long dinners, drinking at a series of bars, and of course, karaoke (Yes, I did get some sightseeing in).
What I was reminded of from this past weekend was the ease of the "man-date" while abroad. Nowadays, movies like "I Love You, Man" have brought man-dating and bromance to the forefront of pop culture but this is certainly an issue I've thought about since I lived in NYC. I remember my first year there, a good college friend was in town, and his best friend from high school also turned out to be living in the city. We all went out as a result of my friend's visit, and at the end of a great evening, that fateful question was asked, "um dude...this was fun. we should hang out. um...can i, um...get your number?"
Now, this was a new phenomenon. In college your friends are just "kinda there" via classes, dorms, greek life, etc. Suddenly this seemingly intrusive question had an immense utilitarian value. I knew a decent amount of people thanks to an analyst class and other random connections, but I realized that this new, non-school life, might actually demand exchanging numbers with guys you think you might enjoy hanging out with, and yes, go on man-dates with. It became even weirder realizing that the early part of a man-tionship was even similar to dating a woman.
What I've remembered is, man-dating while abroad is an entirely different situation than in your permanent city of residence. If you're out with a group, if you remotely hit it off with another guy in the group, it's totally not gay to ask them for their number. Everyone understands your situation, and, I think helped out by an intense concept of hospitality that's part of the Beijing culture, is extremely willing to hang out or keep you informed with stuff to do. Many of the people I've met are either ex-pats who are downright excited to help you out, or are locals who are of the variety that enjoy meeting westerners. I'm fairly excited as I've been able to experience Beijing the way I would show NYC to any visitor: the West Village or Soho vs. Times Square and the Circle Line. Only one week left and not sure I want to leave.
Other observations:
In total contrast to my entire post above about experiencing the 'local' culture, is the awesome fast food I've been eating. McDonalds has a "Spicy McPork" sandwich, which, I'm not going even begin to compare to a Momofuku Pork Bun, but it's a world better than your basic McChicken. I imagine to a native Chinaman it could be just as bland a taste as the aforementioned McChicken, but damn is it good to me. The fast food highlight has to be the "KFC Peking Chicken Wrap". To those who have had the pleasure of proper Peking Duck at either any Chinatown establishment, or the trader version at Mr. Chows, this is definitely something to be experienced. Hoisin sauce, sliced cucumber, a thin wrap, with flavorful fried chicken strips instead of duck. The Colonel always did kinda look Chinese.
As evidenced by the subject of much of my writing, I've been eating a lot. The metrosexual in me had defnitely been feeling disgusting and I'd decided I needed to exercise in some capacity. The nearest gym was about 45 minutes via public transportation for me so that was absolutely not happening. I decided I would just need to get back into running, but running shoes had not made the cut due to limitations on packing. I went shopping in a mall that had a Nike, Puma, and Reebok store in addition to a few random Chinese atheletic brands. I never thought my size 12 feet would be of a freakish quality, but let's just say, I'm currently the proud owner of a really ugly pair of black Reebok running shoes.
June 14th, 2009
Beijing has certainly more than lived up to expectations up to this point. One aspect of traveling I had completely forgotten about was the ease of socializing and making friends while abroad. I planned my trip here with absolutely no expectation or contacts in Beijing, and of course assumed, "I'm gonna just study the entire time and maybe have dinner out a few times." Well, one after the other, friend of friends keep popping up via facebook and word of mouth and its taken this from simply language study to truly experiencing the city.
I imagined this past weekend would have me eating dinner at some Lonely Planet recommended restaurant, followed by some random wandering and heading home around midnight. I'd wake up early and go sightseeing all day long. Well, it turned out someone from my high school had been living here for the past six years and his work in PR allowed him for both an extensive network of both locals and ex-pats, along with knowing a good deal of local bar and restaurant owners. My quiet weekend turned into two nights of three hour-long dinners, drinking at a series of bars, and of course, karaoke (Yes, I did get some sightseeing in).
What I was reminded of from this past weekend was the ease of the "man-date" while abroad. Nowadays, movies like "I Love You, Man" have brought man-dating and bromance to the forefront of pop culture but this is certainly an issue I've thought about since I lived in NYC. I remember my first year there, a good college friend was in town, and his best friend from high school also turned out to be living in the city. We all went out as a result of my friend's visit, and at the end of a great evening, that fateful question was asked, "um dude...this was fun. we should hang out. um...can i, um...get your number?"
Now, this was a new phenomenon. In college your friends are just "kinda there" via classes, dorms, greek life, etc. Suddenly this seemingly intrusive question had an immense utilitarian value. I knew a decent amount of people thanks to an analyst class and other random connections, but I realized that this new, non-school life, might actually demand exchanging numbers with guys you think you might enjoy hanging out with, and yes, go on man-dates with. It became even weirder realizing that the early part of a man-tionship was even similar to dating a woman.
What I've remembered is, man-dating while abroad is an entirely different situation than in your permanent city of residence. If you're out with a group, if you remotely hit it off with another guy in the group, it's totally not gay to ask them for their number. Everyone understands your situation, and, I think helped out by an intense concept of hospitality that's part of the Beijing culture, is extremely willing to hang out or keep you informed with stuff to do. Many of the people I've met are either ex-pats who are downright excited to help you out, or are locals who are of the variety that enjoy meeting westerners. I'm fairly excited as I've been able to experience Beijing the way I would show NYC to any visitor: the West Village or Soho vs. Times Square and the Circle Line. Only one week left and not sure I want to leave.
Other observations:
In total contrast to my entire post above about experiencing the 'local' culture, is the awesome fast food I've been eating. McDonalds has a "Spicy McPork" sandwich, which, I'm not going even begin to compare to a Momofuku Pork Bun, but it's a world better than your basic McChicken. I imagine to a native Chinaman it could be just as bland a taste as the aforementioned McChicken, but damn is it good to me. The fast food highlight has to be the "KFC Peking Chicken Wrap". To those who have had the pleasure of proper Peking Duck at either any Chinatown establishment, or the trader version at Mr. Chows, this is definitely something to be experienced. Hoisin sauce, sliced cucumber, a thin wrap, with flavorful fried chicken strips instead of duck. The Colonel always did kinda look Chinese.
As evidenced by the subject of much of my writing, I've been eating a lot. The metrosexual in me had defnitely been feeling disgusting and I'd decided I needed to exercise in some capacity. The nearest gym was about 45 minutes via public transportation for me so that was absolutely not happening. I decided I would just need to get back into running, but running shoes had not made the cut due to limitations on packing. I went shopping in a mall that had a Nike, Puma, and Reebok store in addition to a few random Chinese atheletic brands. I never thought my size 12 feet would be of a freakish quality, but let's just say, I'm currently the proud owner of a really ugly pair of black Reebok running shoes.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Alan and Me
Alan and Me
Studying language abroad can go any number of directions. For those who attempted this endeavor in some capacity during college, you understand the massive spectrum of experiences that can take place. Some people go the homestay route and spend their time in a small town with a family and come out fluent. Some go in with no knowledge of the language and come out having learned basic conversational skills. Some just go to Australia and don't even try. My junior year, I went to Rome having taken a good deal of Italian. I studied incessantly before leaving, with high aspirations of coming out fluent. Well...I drank a lot, made some lifelong friends, had one of the best experiences of my life, and came out of the semester having forgotten much of what I had previously known
I kept this in mind while choosing a Chinese language class. I heard Shanghai was the coolest city in China, but a friend who lives there gave her earnest opinion that if I really wanted to try to learn any Mandarin, I needed to spend time in Beijing (or maybe she just didn't want me moving there and pestering her). I decided to take the plunge and looked up language classes here in Beijing. Much like many other well researched decisions in life, I basically took the route of "highest google result" and "best website" to choose my school. I read some reviews that said that the school was full of "hard partying Koreans and Japanese" but figured that I'd already chosen Beijing over Shanghai, and it wouldnt hurt to have some fun people around.
I arrived in Beijing on Sunday night and the school had a car pickup service at the airport. They helped me get set up in my room (which is adjacent to the school) and I went to bed with that giddiness that comes before the first day of school. What crazy ass Asians would I meet out here? Would I learn any Mandarin? Would the hard partying Koreans cower in fear of a large brown person?
I reported to the school office in the morning where my teacher was waiting, and he told me "let's head over to the classroom." We walked over and I began wondering, would the Jet-setting Japanese be already in the class? We walked in and sat down. Yup, it was just us. I nervously looked around wondering if I was about to get Hostel'ed or Turista'd. It then got even more awesomely weird. The teacher's name
was Alan, and he's a local Beijinger who was wearing a pink t-shirt that said "Volunteer Blood Donor" with an olympic logo on it. He attached some old school Labtec looking speakers to his laptop and said "we'll start your experience with a song". He then played this song, "Beijing Huan Ying Ni" (Beijing Welcomes You) which was apparently the song 'sung' by the cute little girl in the Olympic Opening Ceremony controversy. We sat there, just Alan and me, for the full 7:03 of the song, just kind of looking at each other. This was definitely his routine normally and he was not diverging. I sometimes forget that the gawker.com sense of irony, or Bill Simmons "unintentional comedy scale" certainly don't exist in the minds of the Chinese. There are generally 3-5 students in the other classes, but I am the only beginner starting in June. Four hours a day, just Alan and me.
Needless to say, my Mandarin is coming along splendidly.
Some other observations:
A major style for men is to sit outside in the heat and roll your t-shirt up to the chest area and just let your sweaty belly hang out, often patting it, with a cigarette hanging out the side of your mouth. I'm not gonna deny, they really look happy in this pose and at the rate I'm eating the amazing food here, I may be able to join them in a week's time.
Walking around Tiananmen Square on Tuesday, on two separate occassions I was stopped and people took pictures with me. They looked to be kinda the 'country or redneck' version of Chinese, and I guess they were just fascinated and perhaps never seen an Indian before? The city/rural distinction is definitely large here and I wonder if there's currently people playing Red State - Blue State, the Chinese edition.
Normally, if you're heading out for the afternoon and look at your window at a sea of people with umbrellas, you'll make sure to grab one. Definitely not the case out here.
Studying language abroad can go any number of directions. For those who attempted this endeavor in some capacity during college, you understand the massive spectrum of experiences that can take place. Some people go the homestay route and spend their time in a small town with a family and come out fluent. Some go in with no knowledge of the language and come out having learned basic conversational skills. Some just go to Australia and don't even try. My junior year, I went to Rome having taken a good deal of Italian. I studied incessantly before leaving, with high aspirations of coming out fluent. Well...I drank a lot, made some lifelong friends, had one of the best experiences of my life, and came out of the semester having forgotten much of what I had previously known
I kept this in mind while choosing a Chinese language class. I heard Shanghai was the coolest city in China, but a friend who lives there gave her earnest opinion that if I really wanted to try to learn any Mandarin, I needed to spend time in Beijing (or maybe she just didn't want me moving there and pestering her). I decided to take the plunge and looked up language classes here in Beijing. Much like many other well researched decisions in life, I basically took the route of "highest google result" and "best website" to choose my school. I read some reviews that said that the school was full of "hard partying Koreans and Japanese" but figured that I'd already chosen Beijing over Shanghai, and it wouldnt hurt to have some fun people around.
I arrived in Beijing on Sunday night and the school had a car pickup service at the airport. They helped me get set up in my room (which is adjacent to the school) and I went to bed with that giddiness that comes before the first day of school. What crazy ass Asians would I meet out here? Would I learn any Mandarin? Would the hard partying Koreans cower in fear of a large brown person?
I reported to the school office in the morning where my teacher was waiting, and he told me "let's head over to the classroom." We walked over and I began wondering, would the Jet-setting Japanese be already in the class? We walked in and sat down. Yup, it was just us. I nervously looked around wondering if I was about to get Hostel'ed or Turista'd. It then got even more awesomely weird. The teacher's name
was Alan, and he's a local Beijinger who was wearing a pink t-shirt that said "Volunteer Blood Donor" with an olympic logo on it. He attached some old school Labtec looking speakers to his laptop and said "we'll start your experience with a song". He then played this song, "Beijing Huan Ying Ni" (Beijing Welcomes You) which was apparently the song 'sung' by the cute little girl in the Olympic Opening Ceremony controversy. We sat there, just Alan and me, for the full 7:03 of the song, just kind of looking at each other. This was definitely his routine normally and he was not diverging. I sometimes forget that the gawker.com sense of irony, or Bill Simmons "unintentional comedy scale" certainly don't exist in the minds of the Chinese. There are generally 3-5 students in the other classes, but I am the only beginner starting in June. Four hours a day, just Alan and me.
Needless to say, my Mandarin is coming along splendidly.
Some other observations:
A major style for men is to sit outside in the heat and roll your t-shirt up to the chest area and just let your sweaty belly hang out, often patting it, with a cigarette hanging out the side of your mouth. I'm not gonna deny, they really look happy in this pose and at the rate I'm eating the amazing food here, I may be able to join them in a week's time.
Walking around Tiananmen Square on Tuesday, on two separate occassions I was stopped and people took pictures with me. They looked to be kinda the 'country or redneck' version of Chinese, and I guess they were just fascinated and perhaps never seen an Indian before? The city/rural distinction is definitely large here and I wonder if there's currently people playing Red State - Blue State, the Chinese edition.
Normally, if you're heading out for the afternoon and look at your window at a sea of people with umbrellas, you'll make sure to grab one. Definitely not the case out here.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Outbreak
While the H1N1, Mexican Flu,Swine Flu scare, or whatever Sanjay Gupta is calling it these days, may have subsided in the U.S., my flight to Beijing proved a different environment. Now, the sight of an Asian wearing a germ mask in Chinatown is probably as regular as an umbrella on a 90 degree day, I definitely noticed a large percentage of passengers wearing them on the Tokyo leg of my flight. The fear is alive and well here in Asia, and they are certainly playing a strong defense. What was remarkable was the difference in defensive techniques among Japan and China, a dichotomy more intense than the Prevent vs. the Goal Line.
Last time I made the east coast of U.S. to Asia trip I was flying business class and loving every minute of it (work trip to Singapore). Now that this is my life 'after trading', I had the pleasure of a coach flight with two layovers (in NYC and Tokyo). When we landed in Tokyo, after a 14 hour flight where I of course had the middle seat, they didn't let us get off and announced that there would be members of the quarantine team coming through. Two guys walked through the aisles with masks on and some weird outfits and machinery. It struck me that they just walked up and down while the announcement said that "if you are experiencing any symptoms like fever, swelling of the glands, nausea, or diarrhea, please raise your hand and identify yourself." Ummm...okay. I guess things just worked a little differently out here. I could just imagine raising my hand and informing them, "yeah, on that last point, I don't want to jump to conclusions here, but I did eat your airplane Japanese seafood curry for my dinner. I'm just saying." Needless to say, no one raised their hands and we were out within minutes.
China...a different story. A similar announcement that the quarantine team would board the plane when we landed. This time it took a little longer. The 'quarantine team' representing the People's Republic of China went through, and had this weird plastic gun-like thermometer that they stuck in front of everyone's forehead one by one, and I think it took your temperature (I hope that's all it did). Someone near the back either had a slight temperature, or was suffering from Ebola, as about six members of the Q.T. all congregated back there and talked very seriously. In the end, we were all given a card saying "you may be exposed to communicable diseases. if you experience flu-like symptoms in the next 7 days please take this card to a doctor." Ruthless defensive efficiency.
If I'm not blogging in a week from now, please email or call to check up on me.
Other observations:
It was pretty awesome on the car ride to the airport, hearing my Indian parents make amazingly sweeping generalizations on China and Chinese people. Exchanges like, "It's disgusting, they eat absolutely everything over there. I heard they eat dogs." "But mom, you've told me in India you guys have eaten goat brains." "Yeah, but that is SO different, those are good." My father also warned me they will probably confiscate my hard drive upon entry.
I heard Keri Hilson's "Knock Me Down" three times in the Tokyo airport. Watch out for this to be the official song of the summer.
I was telling some people during my last flight that SkyMall magazine is definitely a 'boom time' magazine as I can't imagine during a recession people are buying a 20 ft. x 10 ft. world map for their child to practice world capitals. That being said, if you thought SkyMall had some ridiculous shit in it, you should see the Japanese Airlines version of SkyMall. I don't even know where to begin.
Is it the same woman working at every Hudson News location? She is about 40something and looks maybe Moroccan or a darker Arabic? She looks like she might've been pretty back in the day in an exotic way and I swear, at the JFK location it looked like she was working with her twin. I think she also works at most Dunkin' Donuts locations in
the Boston area.
Last time I made the east coast of U.S. to Asia trip I was flying business class and loving every minute of it (work trip to Singapore). Now that this is my life 'after trading', I had the pleasure of a coach flight with two layovers (in NYC and Tokyo). When we landed in Tokyo, after a 14 hour flight where I of course had the middle seat, they didn't let us get off and announced that there would be members of the quarantine team coming through. Two guys walked through the aisles with masks on and some weird outfits and machinery. It struck me that they just walked up and down while the announcement said that "if you are experiencing any symptoms like fever, swelling of the glands, nausea, or diarrhea, please raise your hand and identify yourself." Ummm...okay. I guess things just worked a little differently out here. I could just imagine raising my hand and informing them, "yeah, on that last point, I don't want to jump to conclusions here, but I did eat your airplane Japanese seafood curry for my dinner. I'm just saying." Needless to say, no one raised their hands and we were out within minutes.
China...a different story. A similar announcement that the quarantine team would board the plane when we landed. This time it took a little longer. The 'quarantine team' representing the People's Republic of China went through, and had this weird plastic gun-like thermometer that they stuck in front of everyone's forehead one by one, and I think it took your temperature (I hope that's all it did). Someone near the back either had a slight temperature, or was suffering from Ebola, as about six members of the Q.T. all congregated back there and talked very seriously. In the end, we were all given a card saying "you may be exposed to communicable diseases. if you experience flu-like symptoms in the next 7 days please take this card to a doctor." Ruthless defensive efficiency.
If I'm not blogging in a week from now, please email or call to check up on me.
Other observations:
It was pretty awesome on the car ride to the airport, hearing my Indian parents make amazingly sweeping generalizations on China and Chinese people. Exchanges like, "It's disgusting, they eat absolutely everything over there. I heard they eat dogs." "But mom, you've told me in India you guys have eaten goat brains." "Yeah, but that is SO different, those are good." My father also warned me they will probably confiscate my hard drive upon entry.
I heard Keri Hilson's "Knock Me Down" three times in the Tokyo airport. Watch out for this to be the official song of the summer.
I was telling some people during my last flight that SkyMall magazine is definitely a 'boom time' magazine as I can't imagine during a recession people are buying a 20 ft. x 10 ft. world map for their child to practice world capitals. That being said, if you thought SkyMall had some ridiculous shit in it, you should see the Japanese Airlines version of SkyMall. I don't even know where to begin.
Is it the same woman working at every Hudson News location? She is about 40something and looks maybe Moroccan or a darker Arabic? She looks like she might've been pretty back in the day in an exotic way and I swear, at the JFK location it looked like she was working with her twin. I think she also works at most Dunkin' Donuts locations in
the Boston area.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Say It Ain't So, Doc
Part of the fun of planning for a global excursion has been the number of doctors visits involved in the preparation. Between blood tests, vaccinations, and a general checkup, the costs and time spent have been high. Singapore even requires you to get a chest x-ray to determine if you have any previous exposure to tuberculosis. Now, I know I'm headed outside the U.S., but do people even get TB anymore? My trip to the Travel Health Specialist for typhoid and malaria vaccines even ended up with me even paying an extra $65 for a Polio vaccination. It got to a point where I was waiting for a doctor to prescribe me an antidote for the Plague.
Anyways, as I was scheduling the chest x-ray, I had informed the doctor of my ITBS-symptomatic hip problem that is still annoying the hell out of me even four months later. He recommended I get a hip x-ray as I was going to the radiology department for my chest already, just to be safe.
Anyways, as I was scheduling the chest x-ray, I had informed the doctor of my ITBS-symptomatic hip problem that is still annoying the hell out of me even four months later. He recommended I get a hip x-ray as I was going to the radiology department for my chest already, just to be safe.
On Tuesday I went back for the followup, and thankfully, no tuberculosis. Then he pulled out a sheet of paper with the hip x-ray results and told me that there was absolutely nothing wrong. I asked him if he could provide any more color as to why, even after easing off the capoeira and running, I was still having regular pain and "pins and needles" throughout my leg. He calmly turned to me and uttered words that, short of being informed of a terminal disease, are the words that no one ever wants to hear. "Ranjan, you're in great health. What you have to be aware of is that you're heading towards 30 and not getting younger. The body can't do what it did at 20. You can still play soccer, go running, and be completely active, but if you maintain the same level of activity as before, it's necessary to compensate with more stretching and rest. You just can't ignore those physical necessities and get away with it anymore. It's just natural."
Fuck.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Kansas Blogging Two: Red State - Blue State
AJ's New York Pizzeria is based off a simple premise: getting a NY style slice of pizza in the middle of nowhere Kansas. I have to say that before moving to New York, even living in suburban Boston, pizza to me was Pizza Hut or Papa Gino's, and the differentiation in quality was generally based on the toppings included. The idea that there was a real difference in two slices of just plain cheese pizza was completely foreign. As pizza has certainly been on my rotation of "kinda meals/snack" and late night drunken eating, I became familiar very quickly with a number of places throughout the city and have of course, in NYC fashion, strong opinions about different places (Frank's on 1st ave and 20th st still being my favorite).
As Adam slowly realized that he didn't really want to pursue his career as a fashion buyer in women's denim at Barneys (I kid you not, that was the pre-pizza career) he started mulling other options. He eventually settled on the idea of trying to bring quality pizza by the slice back home to Kansas. Second row seats during Fashion Week and mornings spent looking at models showing off jeans in SoHo showrooms was to be replaced by brick ovens and quality cheeses. Adam very randomly found one of the nation's leading experts on pizza dough, the Dough Doctor (completely serious), himself a midwesterner, who helped him plan his business-to-be. While a great idea, we were all definitely curious as to whether he could pull this off.
As the restaurant was getting built and we began that battle that happens every four years called the Presidential Election, Adam and me came up with a game called Red State / Blue State. Often on Friday mornings, via gchat (which somehow for all my time at BofA was never blocked...thank you Steve Humble) would talk about our previous night. One of the best instances was when, going first as the Blue State (warning: obnoxious trader sentiment ahead) I recounted a Nobu dinner, followed by cocktails by a 'mixologist' at some trendy new bar, followed by meeting a bunch of eurotrash at some club. The Red State response was about as contrastingly awesome as it gets: Adam had spent the day getting a car sawed in half at a junkyard to be used as decor in his restaurant, then offroading in his 4x4 as part of an offroading club, finishing off with a six-pack while watching tv at the end of the night.
Red State / Blue State went on all throughout the rest of my working days, as even with a physical move to One Bryant Park, my gchat was never blocked (maybe this has a connection to why I'm now writing a blog called life AFTER trading?). As of last summer AJ's NY Pizzeria opened and after my epic travel across the state of Missouri, I finally had the opportunity to sample a slice.
*The pizza was actually very good and very comparable to what I'd consider above average NYC slices. I'm definitely curious as to whether Adam is able to franchise the concept across the midwest. I have to say it was pretty impressive to see the mostly finished product that was built from scratch, and hopefully AJ's will do for pizza what Chili's did for Tex-Mex. As Adam said, I'd rather own the Darden Group (owners of the Olive Garden among others) instead of Cipriani's.
**The meat-lovers pizza Adam affectionately calls the "18th and 8th", to pay homage to a block right near where we lived. The Kansans hopefully will never get the joke.
- Street signs used as table markers so the food runners know where to send which orders. A little bit of NYC kitsch.
***You know you're in the midwest when: after a night of drinking at the K-State bars I woke up on Adam's couch to what smelled like urine. Now, as most of you know, I enjoy a cocktail or two. However, I've so far been spared the indignity of waking up having, as the kids say, pissed the bed. After slightly panicking, I thoroughly researched the couch and vicinity with no sign of dampness anywhere, yet the smell of urine still wafted through the air. Adam walked out and I asked him if he had any theories. He calmly responded that this had happened before and, "I think the neighbors might be making meth." Kansas, I will miss you.
As Adam slowly realized that he didn't really want to pursue his career as a fashion buyer in women's denim at Barneys (I kid you not, that was the pre-pizza career) he started mulling other options. He eventually settled on the idea of trying to bring quality pizza by the slice back home to Kansas. Second row seats during Fashion Week and mornings spent looking at models showing off jeans in SoHo showrooms was to be replaced by brick ovens and quality cheeses. Adam very randomly found one of the nation's leading experts on pizza dough, the Dough Doctor (completely serious), himself a midwesterner, who helped him plan his business-to-be. While a great idea, we were all definitely curious as to whether he could pull this off.
As the restaurant was getting built and we began that battle that happens every four years called the Presidential Election, Adam and me came up with a game called Red State / Blue State. Often on Friday mornings, via gchat (which somehow for all my time at BofA was never blocked...thank you Steve Humble) would talk about our previous night. One of the best instances was when, going first as the Blue State (warning: obnoxious trader sentiment ahead) I recounted a Nobu dinner, followed by cocktails by a 'mixologist' at some trendy new bar, followed by meeting a bunch of eurotrash at some club. The Red State response was about as contrastingly awesome as it gets: Adam had spent the day getting a car sawed in half at a junkyard to be used as decor in his restaurant, then offroading in his 4x4 as part of an offroading club, finishing off with a six-pack while watching tv at the end of the night.
Red State / Blue State went on all throughout the rest of my working days, as even with a physical move to One Bryant Park, my gchat was never blocked (maybe this has a connection to why I'm now writing a blog called life AFTER trading?). As of last summer AJ's NY Pizzeria opened and after my epic travel across the state of Missouri, I finally had the opportunity to sample a slice.
*The pizza was actually very good and very comparable to what I'd consider above average NYC slices. I'm definitely curious as to whether Adam is able to franchise the concept across the midwest. I have to say it was pretty impressive to see the mostly finished product that was built from scratch, and hopefully AJ's will do for pizza what Chili's did for Tex-Mex. As Adam said, I'd rather own the Darden Group (owners of the Olive Garden among others) instead of Cipriani's.
**The meat-lovers pizza Adam affectionately calls the "18th and 8th", to pay homage to a block right near where we lived. The Kansans hopefully will never get the joke.
- Street signs used as table markers so the food runners know where to send which orders. A little bit of NYC kitsch.
***You know you're in the midwest when: after a night of drinking at the K-State bars I woke up on Adam's couch to what smelled like urine. Now, as most of you know, I enjoy a cocktail or two. However, I've so far been spared the indignity of waking up having, as the kids say, pissed the bed. After slightly panicking, I thoroughly researched the couch and vicinity with no sign of dampness anywhere, yet the smell of urine still wafted through the air. Adam walked out and I asked him if he had any theories. He calmly responded that this had happened before and, "I think the neighbors might be making meth." Kansas, I will miss you.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Kansas Blogging
Before heading out for an Asian adventure, I figured there was only really one place I had to visit to get myself prepared. Only one destination could ready me for the culture shock and traveling challenges I will experience as I start in Beijing on May 31st. Naturally, the land of enchantment I speak of is Kansas.
My connection to Kansas is one that runs random and deep. For starters, I was actually born in St. louis....not quite Kansas, but close enough. Then, one my best friends from college from college was from Topeka. Then, randomly one of my roommates when I studied abroad in Rome was also from Topeka (Adam...more on him later). He moved to NYC in '02 as well and we ended up roommates for a few years. One day in 2003, with the college Kansan friend visiting and between the two of them inviting people over, I had nine Kansanites in my tiny West Village apartment in one day; That has to be a record of some sort.
Anyways, my whole family was traveling out to St. Louis for the weekend for my cousin's high school graduation (yes, this is something Indian people often do). Adam was now living back in Kansas running a pizzeria, so I figured I'd fly out a few days early and visit him to check out his new business. And so began the adventure...
I bought a roundtrip ticket to St. Louis, as I was flying out of there with the family at the end of the trip. My plan was to rent a car in St. Louis and drive on over to Manhattan, KS (yes, Adam now lives in a town/city called Manhattan in Kansas). One thing I completely forgot about the midwest: Things are really fucking far apart. I google mapped the drive and much to my chagrin, 370 miles. Mind you, I had gotten up at 6am for the airport, the flight had a stopover in Pittsburgh, it was now about 4pm, and I had at least a five hour drive ahead of me. Adam had definitely made it sound like this wasn't a big deal, yet this was like driving from Boston to almost D.C., after a whole day of flying. I'm convinced that this could be the average commute of a midwesterner.
The first thing I noticed was how much easier things are vs. New York. As anyone who's ever tried doing any basic life task in NYC, they're always a pain in the ass. I got off the plane, while waiting for my checked bag, I was able to get my rental car processed at the counter which was conveniently right next to the carousel. Right as I signed my credit card receipt for the car, my bag came out, I grabbed it and walked over the to rental car shuttle. There were no other passengers, but the driver, with a big smile offered to take me over right away. I got dropped off, went up to my car and was on the highway. I am not kidding, from getting off the plane to being on the highway, including getting a checked bag, was all done in around 20 minutes. I was getting to like this magical land already.
I was on the road and exhausted. The road from St. Louis to Manhattan, through Kansas City, is straight, flat, and long. You take I-70 the entire distance, and my Ford Focus, of course without cruise control, could barely keep up with the 18-wheelers overtaking me. Being exhausted, I undertook a steady cycle of stopping to get Diet Coke, stopping to pee, buying more Diet Coke, and repeat. This process, while time consuming, did take me into some pretty amazing truck stops.
Kansas City is about 250 miles along the way and on the border between Missouri and Kansas. As I drove through, I definitely got a second wind when I saw that Welcome to Kansas sign. I had finally reached this world I had heard so much about and Manhattan, KS was only an hour and change away (yes, my Ford Focus could go 90, which I guess isn't "really considered speeding" according to most people I talked to)
The last two hours were a pretty amazing drive as literally there is nothing around. Even flatter and straighter than the previous stretch, I am convinced I could've driven the entire thing just steering with my knees. If I had cruise control I imagine I probably could've taken a nap, woken up, and would've been fine. The main thing I noticed at this point was how massive the sky was; there is nothing blocking the horizon in any direction. One amazing part of this was I was driving through here as the sun was setting. As I was driving west at a high speed, it seems like I was chasing the sunset (I really did feel like I was living out a classic rock song at this moment) as it lasted almost the entire hour and a half of the drive.
I was right outside of Manhattan and called Adam to let him know I was close. Here's where it got interesting. I was a few miles away from his place and he told me to stop at a gas station and he'd "come get me". By coming to get me, he meant he'd drive over and then I'd follow him back to his apartment. I had GPS on my phone, but he insisted. I guess this would be like telling someone you'd pick them up at Grand Central...definitely the polite thing to do and helping the traveler avoid that last little bit of confusion? Except, being in the midwest this involved being in cars instead of walking.
I had finally arrived.
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