A Ray of Light

So here's a news flash for you all - the world isn't ending yet, no matter how much it feels like it.

This morning I got up late for my walk.  I went to bed with a headache last night and hadn't quite kicked it, so I hit the snooze button a few more times than I should have and eventually I made it out under the tempestuous skies.  I was in my ninth lap around the track when it started raining, and as I rounded the far side of the soccer field, the end of a rainbow appeared, right over the back end of Zaisan hill.  It literally stopped me in my tracks.

One reason why I like to be alone when I take my morning walks is that this is my time to talk to my Heavenly Father.  This helps me to get my head and heart straight for the coming day, get the things that are bothering me off my chest, and renew my determination for the things I gotta do (like stop eating so many frickin' sweets).  The state of the world in general has been weighing me down a lot lately, and specifically the events that are playing out in the US, and this is the subject I was warming up to as I was on my ninth lap.

Whether you're religious or not, you've gotta be asking yourself what on earth is up with this year, but if you're familiar with scripture at all, you should be trembling in your boots.  Horde of locusts: check.  Flood: check.  Famine: in the forecast.  Plague: checkity check-check.  And last week left me feeling like civil war was on the horizon as well.  This is a fucking scary, shitty ass year.*  But there's this relatively obscure** doctrine of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, that in the year preceding The End there will be no rainbows.  One of my many LDS Facebook friends made a joke sometime since this year started, asking if someone was keeping track of rainbows, and as I stood in the rain, watching the full arc of the rainbow shimmer into existence over the valley where I live, I thought, okay.  So not this year.  Not yet.

Since the world's apparently not going to end just yet, that brings me to point B.  This goes out specifically to all of you who call yourselves after the name of Christ.  I don't know any other religious group who is as intolerant and hypocritical as y'all are being right now.  I've seen a lot of straight, white, cisgender people whose words and actions are not in line with the teachings of Christianity.  I'm trying not to turn this into a rant, so I'll just remind my fellow believers that Christ himself said, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."  You may be thinking to yourself, "I've never ___ed*** anyone, and I'm not racist," but it's not enough just not to cause harm to each other.  Specifically I'd like to ask my fellow Saints, for whom part of our baptismal covenants is to mourn with those that mourn, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort if they can say that their thoughts and actions are in line with this principle.

To be fair, I'm probably not the best person to write this post.  I'm cranky and I kind of hate people - for the most part I've loved social isolation because there are far fewer people to annoy me.  But the thing is, we have to take action.  This morning I felt moved to start taking action by writing this post.  If you're wondering what you can do, one colleague suggested donating to an organization that fights against injustice - he specifically linked the Southern Poverty Law Center.  Another friend posted screenshots of a 2014 article about how to protest without going out.  Whatever you can do, do it.  My American readers, we come from a nation that rose from revolution.  If you were educated in the American school system, chances are you learned about the Boston Tea Party, and how this act of destruction helped to forge our country.  Remember that.  And ask yourself if the last line of our pledge of allegiance - with liberty and justice for all - is a fact or a myth.  Because the struggle toward that ideal is what has made our nation great, and the fight is still not won.


*I was going to write this without any obscenity because it's one of my rare churchy posts, but sometimes you just can't express things properly without swearing.
**That happens when you've had ongoing revelation for the past 200 years.
***Insert hurtful action here

Third Time's the Charm

It's hard to believe that the summer is already over - vacation-wise, at any rate.  (I won't lie to you and say that I went to all the awesome summer festivals that were taking place this weekend because it was still Too Darn Hot.)  I'm sitting in my classroom wrapping this up during lunch of the second day of our teacher orientation, but I'm definitely not ready to deal with children who don't share my bloodline yet.  I meant to do some blogging while I was home but then I started binge watching Supernatural and it was all over.

Before that happened, I made my annual road trip to observe the ebb and flow of American otaku-ism...AnimeIowa.  Now you may be thinking to yourself, Didn't this bitch spend the last year living in Japan?  Did I really need to drive two and a half hours to see what America does to the fandom of my choice, particularly given the fact that I've already gone to AnimeIowa twice?  That's a question I struggled with myself.  I considered running a panel, but ultimately never submitted a proposal, and I was too busy working on my master's and my art to do much sewing this year, so it was May before I finally decided to book a hotel room for myself and my mom (who always goes with me).

In the end, it mostly boiled down to the fact that I love competing in the Mini-Festival with my plushies.  The Mini-Festival was a competition that started two years ago at my first AI.  I'd just started making plushies that spring, and I submitted my entry with trepidation as I sat in the Beijing airport waiting for my layover to end.  Although I didn't win, I found myself fired up by the experience, and brought my best game the following year to win the plushie category.  I spent the last year working intermittently on three dolls.  The day before I left Iowa last summer I finally started working on my Yato.  Shortly after getting to Japan I decided to start Kuriyama Mirai.  And finally, before my first UFO win I'd started working on Hozuki.  At the time I booked our hotel, I hadn't finished any of them.  At the time I left Japan I hadn't finished any of them...but I had decided which one to enter, and that was Mirai-chan.  I figured something different would be good.

This year's competition was different.  I believe there were fewer doll entries and more Gunpla ones.  I was really impressed with one plush doll, and figured she would win the plushie category.  Her entry was larger than mine, and the body was based on the classic Cabbage Patch doll, so much more complex; she'd even sewed wires into the limbs to make them pose-able.  The doll entries were pretty fierce, too - one lady had this absolutely gorgeous jellyfish doll, and I had resigned myself to going home without a prize this year when the judges came back in from their deliberation.  They went through the Gunpla awards, gave the plushie prize to the doll I'd pegged for the win, and seemed to have finished up when they said they had one last prize to award - the best in show.

I was hopeful, but tried not to hold my breath as they mentioned that it had been an easy, unanimous choice, then announced me as the winner.  Elizabeth-san, who I kind of think of as the Mini-Festival den mother, complimented me on just how good I was getting as they handed me several awesome prizes, including a medal for myself and my doll (which is actually my favorite prize - I love that I have two plushies in my bedroom now proudly wearing little medals).  That moment kind of made me feel vindicated for these past few months when I wondered if I could really call myself an artist.  As I walked back to the hotel that evening, I sure felt like one.

As I mentioned, my decision to go was largely influenced by the desire to show off my mad sewing skills, but I think I also just kind of wanted to feel like a part of this fandom.  I may be living that rock and roll lifestyle in Japan,  but I still don't have the language skills, so I still don't feel as connected to it as I would like.  I'm still planning on going to Comiket when I get back next month, and to AnimeJapan in the spring, but I realize it'll be more as an observer than a participant, because someone let herself get intimidated by all the different readings for each kanji.  So yeah.  Part of me just wanted to nerd out in English.

Being an hour from Akiba means that the vendor hall didn't hold quite the appeal it once did, but I was still on a mission.  There were at least two things I wanted that I figured would be cheaper and/or easier to buy here than in Japan.  I haven't gotten too crazy about figures, since the industry really caters more to men than women, and while I enjoyed Free! and Yuri on Ice!! I'm not really into that scene.  I do love me some nendoroids, though, and Goodsmile only released their Naruto nendos in the States (as the Kawaii Kingpin pointed out sometime in the last year when I complained about the price of the one I'd found).  I found Naruto, Sakura, and Itachi, all reasonably priced compared to what I'd seen them going for at Mandarake, but since I was hoping for Kakashi-sensei, I passed.  On the other hand, given the many, maaaaanyyyyy vendors selling Funko Pops, I was able to find myself an Erza.  Goodsmile hasn't made any Fairy Tail nendoroids, so I actually ordered her last November, but apparently I'm currently under an ordering curse, because my package went astray and they had sold out by the time I realized it.  I wasn't planning on buying anything else, but then I came across the TeeTurtle stall.  I got in on the Kickstarter of their game, Unstable Unicorns last year, and instantly recognized their sarcastic/kawaii designs.  Given my current income bracket, I wasn't planning to buy much clothing this trip, but when I saw their kitsune t-shirt that proudly proclaimed, "I Give Zero Fox," my fate was sealed.

Other than the dolls and the vendors, there was one more thing I was really excited about - debuting as an otaku flutist.  Each year, AI hosts what they call Karaoke Reverse - a competition to see who can put on the best performance.  The past two years I dithered, unsure how well a flute performance would go.  This year the description definitely mentioned instruments, so I figured, what the hell, why not...but continued to dither until I saw the song list.  They choose five different anime openings you can perform, and then it's up to you to win the audience over, not just with your talent, but with your performance.

As I read down the list, I was a little disappointed, because "History Maker" was the only song I knew, and I figured everyone would choose it (I wasn't wrong - between the fact that it has English lyrics and Yuri on Ice!! is God's gift to fujoshi, I was the only contestant who didn't perform it).  Then I got to the final choice - "Here," from Mahoutsukai no Yome, and knew that's what I would perform.  I'm not going to lie to you - it was a bitch to figure out.  My brother suffered through several rehearsals as I figured out the key changes while my parents were away playing with the grandkids.  Seriously - who writes in F# major?!  By the time my mom and I hit the road to Des Moines, though, I pretty much had it figured out.
It was an interesting mix of performances (song choice aside, anyways).  There were two solo performances of "History Maker."  Another was a group of three women, one who sang as her friends twirled a rainbow flag and a rainbow ribbon.  I thought this was a tiny bit ironic.  Admittedly, Yuri on Ice!! is more than a little gay, but it's boy's love, and the opening from Citrus, a girl's love anime, was one of the other choices.  It seemed like a better fit for them to me.  The last performance was by two guys, one of whom sang "History Maker" while the other one snuck up behind him and pretended to try and hit him...possibly so he would stop singing the same song as everyone else.  That was it.  Most of us got up and sang again, just for funsies, but apparently in years past there were more contestants.

I was pretty happy to be tapped for Judges' Choice, and then again as the first runner-up...although I found the prizes a little mystifying.  I'm not sure who was in charge of buying them, but it seems like if you're going to give away prizes at an anime convention, a Ghibli film or something by Makoto Shinkai seems like a more logical movie than Robocop and Spaceballs.  The two guys won the grand prize, and I was happy for them...until I saw that part of their prize was the Super NES Mini.  The fact that one of them came up to me afterwards to say he'd been a trumpet player in high school and hearing me play me flute was chou natsukashii didn't entirely erase my need to wear my new "Salty Bitch" t-shirt...but it was a nice gesture all the same.

This Land is Your Land

Over the last two years, my principal at ASU would give current events updates during our morning announcements.  The world being what it is, some of these announcements were sad and scary - shootings and terrorism, and the occasional update on the American president's newest idea - but she always ended on an upbeat, "Be grateful we live in Mongolia, where we are largely unaffected by these issues."  Because kids don't shoot each other in Mongolia's schools, and while we have two big scary neighbors, they basically cancel each other out.

I woke up this morning to another shooting - Las Vegas.  I grew up believing in the right to bear arms.  They are kind of part of the country life.  My Grandpa, Dad, and brother all owned and used them - my brother had his first BB gun before he started kindergarten.  From a young age, I saw them used responsibly (mostly...maybe someone got the glass on their truck shot out by a young BB gun enthusiast once, but nobody ever got hurt), and had the truth of what they were impressed on my mind.  Guns were useful tools, but they were deadly.  They were not toys.

Today a student asked me if I missed America.  If you've been around long enough, you know I have a complicated relationship with my home country, but I honestly don't know what to say about it anymore.  The fact that these shootings keep happening again and again while lawmakers stand there impotent is inexplicable.  Two athletes kneel peacefully in protest during the national anthem and the USA loses its fucking mind.  Jobs lost, endorsements dropped.  But what will be the repercussions from a shooting so bad that it stands out even amongst the last few bloody, bullet-riddled years?  Most likely, people will post on facebook, "Prayers for Las Vegas."  A few people will lose "friends" because they will take a stand and their friend will disagree violently.  But the people who make the rules will be too cowardly to actually take action.  I urge you to call them anyways, and make the next few weeks as uncomfortable as possible.

This summer, I spent my first Independence Day home in several years, and I was looking forward to barbecue and blowing shit up.  On the 2nd, I went to church, where our usual fast and testimony meeting had a patriotic theme:  more than one person came to the pulpit to testify that they knew our land was blessed, that it was the greatest nation in the world.  The blessed part is Mormon doctrine, so I guess I can understand how so many normally good, normally intelligent Latter-Day Saints got suckered into voting for the Great Orange Monstrosity.  The shocking part to me was that six months into his presidency, they were still spouting that shit.  Two days later, my Mom and I went to a patriotic worship service at Glenwood Lake Park that morning.  The preacher was a little more moderate, imploring us to put aside our differences and unify.  He went on, though, to honor first responders, policemen, and the military.  I bristled over the fact that he didn't include teachers, because here's the thing: using a gun is not the only way to save a life.  In fact, it's not even the most effective way*.  But don't let me get off topic - I was ranting about guns, not about the rednecks who have swapped their Confederate flags for the monochromatic Stars and Stripes, because "Back the Blue" sounds a lot less racist than "If the South had won we woulda had it made."

Shaggy used to talk about how guns don't kill people - people kill people, and I know he's right, but here's the thing:  they're a pretty damn effective way to kill people.  He would quote Switzerland's statistics, a country with similar guns legislation to the US, but I guess the Swiss aren't batshit crazy, because they don't have mass shootings - there's been one in the last 100 years.  The US by comparison has had seven in the last week.

Since I woke up this morning I've read arguments on Facebook, about how guns are our constitutional right.  Actually, assholes, it was an amendment, which is no less binding, but amendments sometimes need to be changed...or do you disagree with the repeal of prohibition?  Because bringing that back might make your obsession with guns slightly safer...as would investing in mental health.  But since that isn't happening, maybe you should go out and buy yourself another gun, because apparently that's the only way to protect yourself.  If all those people at the concert had guns, this wouldn't have happened, right?  #sarcasm

Listen.  This is not okay.  Maybe it's not my place to say; I don't even live in the US after all.  But I have these kids, nieces and nephews, who shouldn't have to worry about being shot when they're out shopping.  At a concert.  Watching a movie.  At school.  I've traveled all over the world, walked down the streets of Cairo after dark and hiked the Diamond Mountain in North Korea and hardly given a second thought to my safety.  A child growing up in the "greatest country in the world" shouldn't have to worry that they're going to be gunned down, and neither should their parents.  If you think I'm overreacting, then you are NOT PAYING ATTENTION.  If you are not scared and angry, then you are NOT PAYING ATTENTION.  Wake up and start giving a damn before it's too late.


*I didn't want to make this post about teaching, so I'll skip over everything else America's teachers sacrifice and just say that - all things considered - they put their lives on the line each day, too.

GrrrrrAttitude

It's weird, sometimes, being an expat.  Time doesn't move in the normal way.  Not only does it move faster, but some days lose their significance as they come and go - American days.  I miss my Halloweens, my Fourths of July, and my Thanksgivings.

However, here in Mongolia, of all places, I'm actually working for a school in which there is a living North American culture (as opposed to Ras Al Khaimah, where is was definitely a British culture environment).  A bunch of the Canadians have established their own kind of Good Old Boy's hockey club, while others play poker over the weekends (when the reincarnation of the DDEB isn't taking up the community center, watching X-Files with no lights on...)  We actually celebrate two Thanksgivings here - Canadian, and the one that actually counts (hello!  How do they even know when to put up Christmas lights there?  Or when the biggest shopping day of the year will be???)  It's really hard to go to work the next day after a big feast like that (something we learned after Canadian Thanksgiving), so we had our feast on Saturday night, which gave us a whole day to digest afterwards.  And it WAS a feast, as you can tell - I took this picture before the tables were absolutely groaning with the weight of the food.

I told you before that life in Mongolia is a little lonely, and if you haven't caught on, that's changed a lot in the last two months.  Check out my awesome peeps!  You've read about some of these guys in my grub club posts, as well as these guys...

And, of course, others, but I'm not sure if the wine to my acid would agree with me about how well that photo turned out, so I'll leave it at that for now.  Let's just say it would be fair to say that I am grateful for friends this Thanksgiving.  I've spent a year at a school where I had pretty much NO social network, and it was hell.  It was, in fact, the thing that actually drove me to leave that country.  And while I'm getting to like Mongolia pretty well, without friends I would be singing a completely different tune.

Other things I'm grateful for?  Other than the standard job, family, home, etc (all of which I am, of course, grateful for)?  Being fat.  You know, it actually DOES make a difference when it's cold out, although I wish I could lose enough of it to fit comfortably in the coat my mom bought me.  I'm grateful to be sick (read the beginning of my last blog if you want to know why).  I'm grateful to be single, grateful I didn't end up with any of the stellar individuals I fancied at one point or another, and grateful to have learned a thing or two from them.  And I'm grateful to be Mormon, even if it's sometimes a pain in the butt.  More on that another day.

Shanghai American

You've gotta understand something. For the last year, I've mostly associated with Brits. I'm not going to lie and say I haven't enjoyed it, because I have (mostly) - normally I can figure out what they're talking about and I quite like their dry sense of humor - but there are times when I've felt a little outnumbered, and even though I know what THEY are talking about, the reverse often proves not to be true (how can you not know what a cougar is? Or how to teabag?) A typical Friday-Thursday in RAK would be me, Socrates, our married friends, and the school drunk...who are ALL British, and actually all of whom have degrees in one science or another, so while they were nerding out on things like gravity I sometimes found myself wishing for someone who would understand why the joke about Toulouse-Lautrec and the prostitutes* was funny.

Oh, how the tables have turned! Last night was myself, Socrates, and two musicians from Minneapolis. It was nice to have someone laugh at my "your mom" jokes and to not have to translate. I could get used to this!

We went to see them play last week - they had a gig at one of the restaurants on Hongmei walking street. This is the "scene" in Hongqiao/Gubei, if indeed such a thing exists. You can get just about any kind of food on this street - Mexican, Indian, Thai, Japanese...not Korean, actually, but I've got enough of those on my street - and there are plenty of bars as well, many of which have life music. It's also a little artificial, as this is whitey central and you will bump into any foreigner in the area, if you wait long enough. Michael plays guitar and Joann plays cello and they both sing, so it was quite different from the electronic shit we suffered through (for all of ten minutes) the week before.

Before we went out last night I needed to make a run to the bank and Carrefour. The bank closes at five and I didn't want to waste money on a cab, so as soon as we were allowed to leave school I was off like a rocket. Uhh. A bicycle-powered rocket. In fact, I was in such a hurry that I ran over someone. Yep. Well, he wasn't at the crosswalk and he was crossing against the stoplights, so what did he expect? It could have been worse - I only hit him because he hesitated and I slowed down, so it was not enough to throw me from my bike or get more than his foot. If you're thinking that this did ANYTHING to the way I ride, the answer is no. I continued weaving in and out of the traffic like a drunken bat out of hell, and in fact, discovered that it is just as fast to pedal to the intersection of Yan'an and Hongmei roads...one of the families I teach left the school at the same time I did, and we kept passing each other, which the kids thought was pretty hilarious. I lost them at Hongmei.

Anyways, I made it to the bank, and was pleasantly surprised to find that I had a LOT of money left (possibly enough to afford that spontaneous trip to Beijing my partner in crime suggested last weekend), and went to Carrefour, where I wandered for a half-hour before I remembered what I wanted (as I was next in the checkout line...grr) - a mosquito plug-in. I am declaring mosquito jihad on the little bastards as they've kept me up twice this week. I always found it a little troubling when my Dark Lord and Master used to set them on fire while we sat on the smokers' deck at GDA talking, but after two months in Shanghai, I've learned. I am still trying to figure out what else to do to take the fight to them - for now, decorating the stairwell in the gym with their splattered bodies and getting a good night's sleep is enough. But I'll keep you updated.



*Q: What did Toulouse-Lautrec used to say to the prostitutes at the Moulin Rouge?
A: Got time for a short one? Get it?!?