# 8: Antarmahal

Shoddy effort from filmmaker Rituparno Ghosh. The time period, acting, characters and behaviors were pretty far removed from letting anyone in the audience identify with such. Most of the time I was trying to figure out why this movie was made? And I was rather disappointed since I thought Ghosh's "Chockher Bali," was one of the most feeling movies made.

# 7: In Bed

Pretty darn good acting and a nice character piece. Also thankfully does not delude anyone with the happy ending a casual sexual encounter can lead to anything more. Or will just lead to more painful emotional sharing and still back to square 0. There were some cheesy parts but it was nice the director showed that, because frankly cheesy things happen when baring parts of bodies to lovers. I was amazed he could unravel such a complex story all stemming from a motel room and a few hours spent between two strangers who's only respite from each other is the bathroom.

# 6: 3 Needles

Was a movie on how AIDS/HIV manifests in three very different areas of the globe. It stars seasoned movie actors like Lucy Liu, Sandra Oh, and Chloe Sevigny. Despite the great cinematography and the intriguing stories the movie is difficult to digest. The director Thom Fitzgerald was present and when the rolling credits were finished, movie goers seemed to be slightly stunned and waited a few seconds before applauding.

Yeah, it was one of those movies. Fitzgerald explained to the theater he wanted to show how economics was partly responsible for driving the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Perhaps one of the biggest problems was his reliance on a narrator who added no real context to the story. Fitzgerald should have explained the circumstances of the Chinese blood donation programs (you know a short rolling paragraph would've helped or something), French Canadian insurance policies, and despite his best told story being South Africa, it would have been helpful to know took place in South Africa. Otherwise we could have taken it for any other African country rather than the fairly modernized developed country. Already a long film, there could have been less narration and extraneous story-telling and more context to effectively deliver Fitzgerald's message.

# 5: Passion

I am still digesting this movie. I wasn't sure of where it took place, (Baghdad, Cairo?) until I just checked the description: Aleppo, Syria. I admit I've been feeling out of it and with a swollen left ankle (from my first bug bite of the season no less) triggering hamstring spasms, a gashed right arm, possible chipped jaw, bum still hurting from horse injuries, and stressing about finals this movie made me stop thinking of my own relative misery to think about well ... how important is freedom and modernity? How important is tradition? How much does democracy and freedom really benefit people when under the yoke and unswayable powers of their families and social networks? It's not the Constitution that gurantees freedom, but is it our detachment and ability to protect ourselves from those we love the ultimate armor? Justice is retrospect and always late.

I know odd questions to ponder, but if you see this movie maybe you'll get a gist of what I mean.

# 4: The Underground Game

Was a really good movie. I am intrigued by the director Roberto Gervitz and want to see more of his films. As one friend pointed out, initially the characters revealed nothing redeeming, admirable, or even relational to most people. Mid-way through you could start feeling for the sap who was getting played by a high-class hooker, the blind-woman who seemed to be a know-it-all, and the tattoo artist with an autistic daughter. Although the characters were unique, their pain was physically magnified (not spoiling it for you) through some brutal scenes. Also the plot wasn't what I would call terribly unique, somewhere along the lines of classics like "Breakfast at Tiffany's" or "Pretty Woman" come to mind. I probably would have like it more had it a more tragic ending ... (I am a fan of love stories with tragic endings coupled with bittersweet hope like "Out of Sight," "Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love," "Troy," and although debatable, "Star Wars: Episode III").

# 3: Hip Hop Colony

Was not a documentary I expected. Funny thing is my friend and I were probably one of 15 people in the theater, unusual for a DC film fest screening. We made instant buddies with some other hip-hop aficionados who were not the typical tweed-blazer adorned DC film-fest goer.

Long for a documentary, the movie was refreshing in the way it was framed. First starting off with an introduction to Africa and Kenya by a British narrator, I was annoyed (I'm annoyed by most narrators if you can't tell, however, George of the Jungle gets props for having the best use of a humorous narrator) because I thought it was rather 'colonial' to have a white-sounding Brit narrate the advent of hip-hop in Kenya, a musical form imported from the United States. However, as the director showed Kenyans making hip-hop their own, transforming it into 'genge,' we heard less of the narrator and more from the seemingly tight knit family-like community of Kenyan artists.

When I think hip-hop, I'm used to thinking about American hip-hop where wealth is prominently displayed, women are sub-human objects, and lyrics glorify gangster life-styles. Hip Hop Colony showed how Kenyan genge demonstrated none of these characteristics, rather the music was about identity in Kenya and adjusting to the world changing around them.

the wash out

I lead my first climb today!!!!!!!!!!! Wooooooohhhhhooooooooooooooooo!

I'm super psyched only because I always thought you had to be a really awesome climber to lead(which I'm not). Admittedly it was a beginner route I lead (5.4), however I seconded a 5.8 and then flailed on another 5.8 (and almost broke my forearm--it's kind of gross, I did sort of a vertical arm bar that pinched my flesh to the bone, surprisingly no skin broke) trying to go over a wet drippy roof.

We were supposed to go to Seneca this weekend but it was a total wash out. For a bit we were climbing in the rain this morning, but around noon, the sun peeked out. Even though it was foggy and visibility was non-existant, the climbing areas on Sugar Loaf were beautiful; one is called 'Middle Earth' and in that mist, you could sincerely believe you were Frodo's companion. I know I'm a cheeseball LOTR geek.

Crossing the Bridge: The Sweet Sound of Istanbul

Review Deux: Tonight my mom and I went to see a documentary about the music scene in Istanbul. Here are my mom's observations: she basically didn't like it very much, although it was a survey about music in Istanbul, it didn't go into depth on any of the music styles it presented, and the production of movie seemed rather haphazard.

Initially I was annoyed by the German narrator who kept talking about himself traveling in Turkey, impatient to actually hear and see the music of Istanbul. First we were presented with Turkish grunge, then rap, then regional differences such as Romani and Kurdish music. Finally he went back to the classics. As endearing a social cultural icon such as Sezen Aksu can be singing her nostalgic songs, the effect is ruined by close-ups of bad plastic surgery (am I shallow for saying this?).

I admit the movie made me yearn to visit Turkey and lose myself in Istanbul; much the same way Lost in Translation made me feel about Tokyo. I also appreciate the nod and lengthy section given to street buskers ... I wish DC had more. It's great to be greeted by the soothing sounds of a busking electric guitar or saxophone, amplified perfectly by Metro station's acoustics, giving my deprived-of-jam brain a little candy in between work where its over-pressed and school where I attempt to muster a glimmer of intellect. Also don't be fooled by the movie's poster, there is no belly dancer (or dancing) with a guitar slung along her torso.

on buildings

When I put the deposit down for my condo, I didn't realize that in the same block were two rehabilitation/homeless shelters. Yesterday I just found out that my building was built over a funeral home! Bad ju-ju!

Otherwise I've noticed a couple articles in WaPo concerning DC buildings. I don't know what the beef is, they are ugly. I wish they would instead stick to preserving buildings, that are well at least aesthetically pleasing to the eye, like this one even though I know its not under threat:

film fest dc, Three Times

So one of my favorite film festivals kicked off last night. Some buddies and I went to see "Three Times," a Taiwanese about the ever changing fashions of time yet never changing underlying emotions concerning love. I think I have eight more films to see in this whole festival (I was not kidding when I said was crazy about the DC international film fest). So far two films I badly wanted to see on Saturday are already sold out: Water and Iraq in Fragments.

I'll offer a short review of Three Times, it's a slow film. I think you really have to appreciate cinematography or be a film student to appreciate this movie. I am neither, and I found I enjoyed some of the 'times'/chapters more than others. Perhaps more resonating with the younger crowd is the story of the lovers in Taipei in 2005. The first story takes place in 1966 and its just adorable. The mid-movie story taking place in 1911 was harder to get into, and I confess my film companions slept through that one. I'm not familiar with the director or his work, and this was supposed to be his most seductive film, I admit the acting and the beautiful Shu Qi were definitely high points.

4 or against rug rats

Courtesy of a Salon article (my response in pink):

10 reasons you would like/not like to have a kid. Go.

10. Nobody under the age of 10 will ever throw up on me. (I've had an elderly guy dying from a heart attack PROJECTILE VOMIT on me while I was performing CPR on him ... don't think that's much of a concern for me ... urine and feces, that's another issue)
9. When I have bags under my eyes they are the result of staying out too late at a pub with friends. (very temporal though)
8. I don't have to worry about finding "the best" schools.
7. Taking sick time/vacation when I want to instead of when the daycare provider does. (We're going to the goddamn zoo or the climbing wall, my kids will be ass-kicking rockclimbers)
6. Avoiding the obligation to find a kid-friendly event, location, dvd etc. for my leisure time. (but I always liked Disney)
5. A sense that I'm fulfilling my obligations to the next generation by leaving a smaller eco-footprint (i.e. fewer consumers). (That was my moral argument in my undergrad Theories in American Democracy class)
4. Fewer financial worries about my current and future life.
3. No risk of ruining someone's psyche. (Fear I have already done that to my siblings)
2. Not having to build a tolerance for screaming babies or children, or equally exasperating loud activities. I think some of my earliest child-free thoughts were due to my intolerance for noise. (Geez, teaching Tae Kwon Do has already built that up)
1. Not having to spend my time thinking and worrying about what will be good for the kid (child-rearing techniques, health, neighborhood, etc.).
I'm sure there are many more reasons, what are yours? And those on the "childed" side, what are the benefits you think I should consider?

OK, here's the first 10 that come to mind, mundane and profound all jumbled together:
1. Endless entertainment. I laugh far more often than I did before I had kids. They are damned funny people.
2. Get to learn about one of my favorite subjects, how humans learn, firsthand.
3. Get to explore another favorite interest, language acquisition, firsthand.
4. Have a reason to go to all the fun places you might not go without a child like kiddie amusement parks and museums.
5. The social aspects of parenting in this community -- lots of interaction with similar families and lots of stuff to do, and I feel connected with the place and schools and institutions more than I probably would have forced myself to do without the kids.
6. What the hell, I'll say it -- looking at them. I think my kids are beautiful and I sometimes can't believe I had anything to do with creating them. (I am somewhat afraid of giving birth to ugly children)
7. Endorphins -- having a young child is kind of like the endorphin equivalent of falling in love, constantly. I'm constantly being reminded with a sort of emotional whoomph in my chest how much I adore them.
8. Giving birth. I'm very glad that I got to experience the amazing rush of pregnancy and childbirth. (I never liked getting my period, I admit having a fear of giving birth)
9. The satisfaction of working at something that is difficult but worth doing well.
10. Making my husband a father. It's amazing to see him with them and wonderful to partner with him in this. We were a great couple, and I feared losing that, but I love us as parents too. It does take a lot more work sometimes, but difficult does not necessarily = bad.
11. Laughing toddler crawling into bed in the morning. It just does not get better than that.

its an election year

For DC Mayor. I'm not sure who the other candidates are but for some reason I'm thinking of this when I read In Shaw: Pews vs. Barstools. I've marginally heard of the debate regarding development along the 9th Street corridor, which I am for. Right now the street is rows of dilapidated homes, boarded up windows, steel barred no-entry signs, and generally a depressing area. With the convention center attracting restaurants in its southern front, its time to work on the northern eastern and western sides.

One woman complains about day care being across from a bar. I ask, why do you have your kids in day care after 6 PM?

"There's nothing new about fights over the location of a bar, gay or otherwise. It happens all the time. But the battle over Be Bar is unfolding in the midst of a wave of gentrification, where race, class and now sexual orientation get thrown into an already simmering pot."

retrospect

I sometimes go back and read what I wrote in prior times, so here was a list I made about this time of year last year, and here's what's changed:

things i've never done (and may never do)
1. Smoked a cigarette
2. Cheated on someone
3. Scuba dived
4. Smoked marijuana
3. Killed someone
4. Went Caving
5. Taken any illegal drug that had no age restrictions
6. Driven a motorcycle
7. Swam a lap
8. Been to the Southern Hemisphere
9. Played drums
10. Left the DC metro area for another place to live
11. Travelled 4 times to the UK and went to Scotland or Ireland
12. Skied a Black Diamond
13. Pulled off a successful turning hook kick in a taekwondo tournament
14. Serenaded a man
15. Owned a dog
16. not talked to my mom for a week
17. talked to my dad continuously for a week
18. gotten married
19. had kids
20. owned a sports car
21. Been to Amsterdam, Luxembourg, or Monaco
22. acted in a widely distributed film23. hang-glided
24. landed a single propeller engine airplane
25. been to the Middle East for more than 18 hours
26. gotten into a street fight (does this count?)
27. stood up a date
28. faked liking a boy
29. pledged a sorority
30. saw the 'drag races' in Dupont
31. driven a car on a race track
32. Sailed a boat on my own
33. ice skated without falling
34. gone to the Phillips collection
35. Been to Washington state
36. painted a room all by myself
37. held a spider
38. been to Eastern Europe
39. defended a dissertation
40. Looked out the telescopes on O'Hill
41. Had surgery
42. completed climbing Romeo's Ladder
43. rafted the Gauley River
44. fallen for a South Asian man
45. not had a boyfriend who wasn't some part Anglo-Saxon
46. voted Republican
47. Voted before 2004
48. gone to Fur
49. tolerated cigarette smoking very well
50. played foosball with any skill
51. gotten into the top four in the National Taekwondo Championship

Fukuyama is damn right

He makes the point that suddenly no high-powered politician in Washington wants to make. Everyone seems afraid to say they were wrong and continue sticking to convictions proven false. For admitting he's a human and made judgments he backed 100% previously, Fukuyama has shed his neo-con skin.

"The logic of my prewar shift on invading Iraq has now been doubly confirmed. I believe that the neoconservative movement, with which I was associated, has become indelibly associated with a failed policy, and that unilateralism and coercive regime change cannot be the basis for an effective American foreign policy. I changed my mind as part of a necessary adjustment to reality.

What has infuriated many people is President Bush's unwillingness to admit that he made any mistakes whatsoever in the whole Iraq adventure. On the other hand, critics who assert that they knew with certainty before the war that it would be a disaster are, for the most part, speaking with a retrospective wisdom to which they are not entitled.

Many people have noted the ever-increasing polarization of American politics, reflected in news channels and talk shows that cater to narrowly ideological audiences, and in a House of Representatives that has redistricted itself into homogeneous constituencies in which few members have to appeal to voters with diverse opinions. This polarization has been vastly amplified by Iraq: Much of the left now considers the war not a tragic policy mistake but a deliberate criminal conspiracy, and the right attacks the patriotism of those who question the war.

This kind of polarization affects a range of other complex issues as well: You can't be a good Republican if you think there may be something to global warming, or a good Democrat if you support school choice or private Social Security accounts. Political debate has become a spectator sport in which people root for their team and cheer when it scores points, without asking whether they chose the right side. Instead of trying to defend sharply polarized positions taken more than three years ago, it would be far better if people could actually take aboard new information and think about how their earlier commitments, honestly undertaken, actually jibe with reality — even if this does on occasion require changing your mind."

Man, all this shit with the immigration bill and Democrats backing so hard against modifications (not to mentioned the death of the Dubai World Ports deal in the U.S.) makes me feel very un-blue. Go green! I wonder if the Dems know they are reacting to a hard-line administration pulled further right than the Republican party, and this sudden protectionism is going bury them come the next election (whoa I'm making a prediction here?). Am I anti-American for suddenly advocating the shelving of the electoral college system and encouraging more diverse political parties who actually speak to issues these days?

cowgirl on the beach

cowgirl on the beach
Originally uploaded by ScelestiX.

So here's the story. I feel like I've been raped by a horse's saddle, because literally, that's what happened when my intrepid friend you see I'm riding, decided to take off in a trot and LEAP over a one foot high barrier. I had no idea what pain and humiliation was in store for me once she landed. I had bounced part way out of my saddle with my right leg over her neck, my left still stuck in the stirrups, and the most uncomfortable parts of the saddle in my delicate regions. After grabbing her neck and realizing I had no control of her, I slid down and rolled away from what I hoped would not be a horse having a tantrum wielding angry hooves.

I'm okay, my ego and flesh is just a bit bruised and I have an even greater respect for horses. Also I think the next time I try to be adventurous during vacation, I should maybe have equestrian lessons prior to booking my next horse trail trip.

packs of 10 feet tall people

Maybe you're looking for a new way to explore D.C. Or perhaps like myself you've gawked at the packs of people running around on segways. I found the source of the mystery: Look between 14th and 13th on I St. Yes, it's a Segway tour company.

last sunday

I screwed up Daylight savings time. A friend I was meeting to climb with at 7 AM called at the time saying she was going to be there five minutes late. I was still in bed. I ran out the door in 10 minutes knowing I still had a 1/2 hour drive before hitting Great Falls. Unfortunately I ran over a curb with my rear right tire. Partly down GW Parkway, my car started shuddering like there was a helicopter trying to land on its roof. I pulled over to an overlook and saw I had a thoroughly shredded and blown rear right tire. I pulled out the jack and lifted the car, but could not for the life of me get the lugs off. A couple strangers offered to help and I asked the last guy to help pull of the lugs and he walked me through changing the tire. I made it Great Falls by 8:30, did Splinters clean for the first time :) although only using the left approach, not straight up. I also climbed Lost Arrow (5.10+). Yeah, not free climb, but I learned to climb via its original method, aid climb. Afterwards I treated my car to some new tires and windshield wipers, my tummy to some Moby Dick's, and a nice nap once I got home.

bermuda

Today's my last day here, I didn't spend nearly enough time at the beach, so really, my bikini tan-lines are not as contrast-y as they were before ... hah, I didn't really tan in South Africa either. I came here for a lovely intimate wedding and it was wonderful. The entire guest list numbered shy of 40 people so every guest got to know each other and we all had fun hitting the clubs on Front Street in Hamilton, hanging out at the beach, shopping, and sightseeing.

Right now my right jaw is pretty sore. It's a good thing this is the jaw that never fully recovered feeling from a wisdom tooth extraction gone awry (blood spurting, hammers, and drilling to retrieve a way tooth) three years ago. That story to come with pictures.

Even though there were plenty of people here, for the most part I traveled by myself. Of course I've mentioned the positives: doing what I want to do on my own time, not worried about compromising or being accountable to someone else, and becoming more self-reliant and confident about traveling alone. It also opens up meeting locals and other people you may not normally interact with if you were traveling with someone else. Although I admit, traveling with someone else has positives, particularly if my companion has similar interests (like my sister or a few other friends I've traveled with). This time around, I think particularly in the beach-y tropical island type of vacations, its nice to have a buddy. Particularly since it seems whenever I went to the beach, I was by myself unless I was meeting someone else.

Oh and by the way Bermuda is a genuine banana republic. I hit downtown Hamilton on Thursday and saw accountants and insurers walking around in full-fledged business suits. I saw brand names like Deloitte and PriceWaterhouseCoopers on corner streets. I was really amazed. Apparently Bermuda's a good place for off-shore banking, insurance firms, of course hospitality, and there is a medical facility. There are no fast-food places or chain restaurants. No Day's Inns or cheap motel constructs. It's all vacation villas, homes and neighborhoods, or compound-like resorts/clubs/and golf courses. Stunning beaches though.

departures II

Should be dated 5 April 06--When I wrote this on airplane flying from IAD to BOS:

This morning could have been a shaky 35 mm of what happens when I leave with an aching heart. Trolling my over-expensive on-a-whim bought-in-Heathrow carry-on Samsonite, my black work bag, and two plastic shopping bags; one with half frozen de-stemmed strawberries, mom's dried lime beef curry and stir-fried baby Asian eggplant over brown rice, an empty Nalgene, a bruised pink lady apple, and a freckled banana; the other bag with squeaky square-toed black pumps and sandals bought after Long Island sound left me shoeless on a red-drunk wine summer day on a rocky beach.

Caption me down an empty DC neighborhood street littered with the debris from spring tree blossoms, wearing a crisp French blue shirt, stretch charcoal pencil skirt, and Tevas-my favorite vehicle of escape. Snapshot to the work lunch hour confessing misty-eyed to a dear friend and colleague, two hours later picking my mom up near Union Station.

Now going up the aesthetically-pleasing cold glass and steel rising escalator corridors of Dulles, staring at aluminum tile, with hot tears falling on my overly expensive Samsonite. The cavern of halogen illuminated escalators echoing the vast crackening of my heart.

I'm going to the beach, but my mind can only think how cold 67 degrees can really be.

My friends console me and tell me I'm brave, I think to myself, 'I had to do it,' no choice or I'll always wonder. The answers I got did not impart the relief of un-weighted insecurity and indecision, but instead the aching of a heart-breaking.