Lost in the time zones

Last Sunday was fun.
For starters, it was a terribly sunny day, which is always a good start.
I went to visit a Museum in Paris, which I had never visited before. Mostly paintings; as I was trying to feel those feelings that the painters supposedly tried to express with colors and shapes, my visit partner pointed out how different two paintings could look, even though they came from the same movement. Two impressionist paintings, side by side, made really different impressions, although both were made with short vertical strokes, light tones, and represented similar sceneries.
Later that day, I came home. In France it was the middle of the afternoon, and a very warm, sunny one, as I said. I got home and called a friend in China. China is 6 hours ahead of Paris, in time zones, so it was sometime around midnight there. Since I had left my shutters half closed when I left earlier, and as I talked to my Chinese friend,I got to feel like it was the middle of the night. Plus we were having one of those conversations that you are likely to have in the middle of the night ;)
Two hours later, I "emerged" from that different universe (我很高兴，我们可以说巴!), my head filled with questions and missing my friend a lot, because we are so far apart on the planet.
So it was the still-very-sunny end of a sunny afternoon in Paris. it was like... a different day; because I had been through 2 hours of night. Tried to get back on track with Paris time.
Then I talked to a Brazilian friend on msn; he is coming over to stay in Paris in a few days, so we had a few topics to cover :) Brazil is 4 hours behind Paris time (I think...Vini, o q vc acha?). Although the conversation we had was not "typical" of an early-afternoon-conversation, I still felt it was early there. Earlier, at least.
Then I did some more stuff, and time to go to... what!? it was already 2a.m. ! Bed time long passed.
But I don't regret any second of that Sunday. It's amazing to see how
much traveling you can fit in one day, thanks to public transportation
AND phone AND internet :) Definitely a fun day: got some culture, warm
feelings, and friendship. What else to ask for?

I feel like a painting: different people see me differently; there are infinite ways to represent me. But who am I? Where is the element that makes me exist; how do I know that I'm not just the sum of all the paintings of me? am I really something more than the sum of my thoughts and actions?

testing ScribeFire

it seems ScribeFire, one more of those awesome Firefox extensions, is working on my computer now; I can just launhc a new tab in my browser, punch in a few words and a title, and there goes my latest blog entry :)
it also seems promising for integrating quaotations from webpages I'm browsing at the same time, or adding pictures, etc.
Good complement to the Clipmarks extension!

edit 02:17 am : it works!!it works!!

the rabbit's shell

I came home under the rain. It was pouring down heavily, like it had been since the beginning of the month. The French call that phenomenon "giboulées": one minute it's cloudy and dry, the next minute it's raining cats and dogs and windy like crazy.
So I was walking home under giboulées. I had left my umbrella on purpose, and instead dressed in a winter/ski-jacket, all water-proof and with a hood. Walking under the rain, with a shelter around me. The wind gradually soaks my jeans, which are not waterproof. I feel the cold, humid stickyness of fabric over skin on both my legs, and I start imagining a similar sensation in my feet.
I say "imagine", because there is no way my feet are already drenched; it's been raining only for a couple of minutes.
All that hugely immense mass of water, falling down from hundreds of meter in the sky just to hit my hood or my jacket and be bounced back to the concrete pavement
what a waste! except maybe for plants, that get their share of the previous liquid.
I feel strong. It's ironic that I should feel strong when confronting the force of nature, expecially considering the sides of the cloud rain, compared to my size. yet I do. maybe precisely because I live under the impression that I can fight it. water comes down and down and down from the skies, I just keep walking. tonight my injury is deep inside of me, environment cannot affect it.

Note pour plus tard / Note for the future

Dimanche 24 février 2008,
une date à retenir, en forme de dreaminder inversé.
J'ai peut-être trouvé... "ce que je veux faire plus tard".

Sunday, February 24th 2008.
A day to remember, a sort of reversed dreaminder.
It might be the day when I... "found out what I want to do with my life".

who's gonna offer a penny for my thoughts ? ;)

where's China?

A friend just sent me an article with a few tips to help yourself decide if you should go to China or not. I liked one of the ideas: the longer you stay in China, the harder it is to talk about it.

Now, why is that true? not sure there is a rational explanation, but it's how I feel too. I think the word we use is "cristalization": in your mind, you keep an impression, a model of things stuck as they were in a certain situation, and you make that your general concept of the topic. so for example, your way of living in China becomes the way you think China is; and you dont easily put yourself in question about that. but it's so totally different from what your friends live abroad, from what you were living before, that you can't explain it.
The longer you stay, the more normal it seems to you; therefore, the less you pay attention to how you behave on a daily basis, and the harder it gets to present, explain in detai, analyse your experience.
any comment on this? please post, I'll be reading and responding :)

on a slightly related topic, and I'm not targetting only ex-expats with this question: have you ever felt like you missed a place where you'd live, so much, so much, you thought you could never be so happy ever again?

I miss China badly those days, mostly because of the people whom I know there, and because of the freedom I was able to keep in my life the whole time. There really are opportunities everywhere in China, if one is willing to take one's courage, patience, and learn about the culture, accept things without understanding, compromise. China did build my patience.
Now I'm waiting for my next chance to go there ;) wait for me guys, we'll share a giant pizza at Kro's nest!!

Le billet d'humeur - février 08

Parfois me prend l’envie d’écrire. Souvent, je m’arrête après quelques lignes, voire quelques mots. Jamais je ne les partage, ni ne les publie/poste/bloge/blogge/blogue. Pour quoi faire ?

Et pourquoi pas ?

Ce mercredi 13 février, le service public audiovisuel est en grève. Je dis que c’est une bonne chose !! Plus souvent, l’excellente station Le Mouv’ (92.1FM) devrait nous abreuver d’excellente musique doucement pop, comme aujourd’hui ; plus souvent, elle devrait nous éviter son insupportable déballage de pré-adolescentes sur la radio libre 17h-23h. Je ronchonne mais c’est normal; je dépasse les 24 ans ½, c’est la l’acariâtreté (??) qui m’atteint, la sénilité guette.

Si les Neuilléennes et Neuilléens sont politiquement irritables et publiquement insupportables, il ne faut pas oublier que ce sont aussi des gens comme les autres, le matin entre 8h et 9h ! Arrivé au bureau au lever du jour, lundi dernier, je me dis qu’il était décidement trop tôt pour se mettre à l’ouvrage, et descendait prendre un « pti noir » au café du coin. Finalement ce fût chocolat chaud et croissant, pour le plaisir du souvenir, la mousse du chocolat saupoudrée d’un lever de soleil rouge flamboyant sur l’avenue Charles de Gaulle. C’est assez sympa pour bosser, ce coin, finalement. Les Neuilléennes et Neuilléens, donc, bavardent au comptoir autour de leurs cafés, parlant de madame-du-chien-des-voisins-du-bureau-des-enfants… c’est ennuyeux ce que je raconte, on s’en fiche de savoir qu’ils parlent de ça ? je veux bien parler d’autre chose, mais eux, c’est de ça qu’ils parlaient. En sortant, 6 euros pour un pti déj ? c’est plus cher si on s’assoit ! Sachons vivre, mais je ne m’y laisserai pas prendre la prochaine fois.

Nous perdons le sauveur, le Salvador, Henri le grand. Un inconditionnel de la pétanque ET du Brésil ne peut pas être fondamentalement mauvais. Retenons son énergie vitale assez incroyable, et sa capacité à descendre une bonne bouteille de rouge, à lui tout seul, au cours d’un concert. C’était Henri Salvador, au Palais des Congrès à l’automne 2005. Une rupture d’anévrisme, c’est lié au pti rouge ? qu’en pensent les médecin(e)s ?

« Tu as des problèmes de riche, mon pauvre ! », m’expliquait-on quand je me désolais de mon indécision de futur estivant : JO à Pékin ou famille à Sao Paulo, rien ne sert de courir, il faut choisir. Le feuilleton se conclura avant la saison 4 de Lost, les scénaristes de mes vacances n’ayant pas fait grève.

Je me tiens pour cette première mouture au sage adage « quand il n’y a plus de papier, c’est qu’on a noté toutes les idées ». Fin de la page 01.

Replay

Replay
Vidéo envoyée par gargouillon

Dans un monde appauvri par l'homme, la seule lueur d'espoir est le souvenir d'un passé oublié.
Mais attention à ne pas se laisser dépasser par ses rêves...

Court métrage de fin d'étude que j'ai réalisé avec 3 autres camardes à l'ESMA de Montpellier.

Résumé de soirée

Hello happy people,

J’espère que tout le monde va bien et est content avec ce qu’il/elle a en ce moment.

Hier soir, j’ai eu une soirée intéressante, et je me suis dit que je pourrais partager ça. En fait, ce matin ça semble déjà moins important/fun, mais je vais suivre mon idée d’hier.

Comme chaque année, à cette époque, l’Aiesec à paris organise une soirée pour Noel ; cette fois-ci, c’était au bar Sullivan (10 rue des Lombards, près des halles ; excellente adresse au passage).

J’y allai sans grand enthousiasme, ne sachant pas trop qui pourrait s’y trouver, et sachant surtout que beaucoup de mes connaissances ne s’y trouveraient pas. Comme d’habitude sur ce sujet… je me trompais.

Je passais le seuil, m’enfonçai vers les profondeurs du lieu où devait se trouver la salle réservée… j’eus à peine le temps de la trouver ; déjà, deux anciens membres de mon équipe au bureau national m’avaient aperçu, et les retrouvailles furent vraiment agréables, un peu contre toute attente. Il s’agit d’ailleurs d’un malgache et d’une slovaque, qui sont en couple depuis un an, lui était déjà sur paris, elle est venue le rejoindre.

En faisant le tour des présents, je tombe sur deux brésiliens arrivés depuis une semaine pour apprendre le français, qui connaissaient Aiesec au brésil et ont rapidement retrouvé le réseau parisien. On parle un peu portugais, je prends des nouvelles des brésiliens qu’ils connaissent (un brésilien connaît toujours d’autres brésiliens ; c’est encore plus vrai avec Aiesec !!). Je rencontre juste après une indienne de Bombay, qui a habité et travaillé avec un des mes amis indiens… de Pékin. Il venait de Bombay lui aussi; elle n’en revient pas de trouver qqun qui le connaît, ici à Paris. Je lui rappelle que c’est presque normal. Plus loin, un bref mais efficace «aha, nimen shi Shanghairen ma ? » (« ey, vous êtes tous de Shanghai ici ? ») m’ouvre les portes du groupe de 5 stagiaires chinois, tous venus travailler au siège d’Alcatel au paris (c’est un partenaire récurrent de l’organisation, en France). Je pense à leur demander des nouvelles de mes relations à Pékin, mais finalement nous parlons de la France et de Paris. Je me rattraperai demain : le président du bureau national chinois est en Hollande pour une conférence, et profite de son escale à Paris pour visiter notre ville-lumière nationale pendant deux jours.

Parmi les rencontres totalement inattendues: des étudiants de l’INT, que j’ai aidés à partir en stage ou en échange… de très bons moments échangés, car on reconnecte tout de suite, et on se retrouve comme on s’était vus quelques jours ou semaines auparavant seulement. Il se trouve qu’ils sont algériens, tunisiens, portugais… que certains ont fait partie d’Aiesec à un moment, ou encore maintenant. Mais est-ce que c’est parce qu’ils sont étrangers, parce qu’ils ont des liens familiaux ailleurs? Peut-être. En tout cas, ils sont contents de me revoir aussi ; je découvre que j’ai une certaine réputation de « celui-qui-a-tout-fait », pour avoir été dans pas mal de pays différents et avoir participé au niveau national. (oui oui je me jette des fleurs ^_^ ça flatte l’ego c’est vrai. Je ne m’en plains pas).

Je suis content de voir qu’ils semblent avoir les pieds sur terre ; il devraient pouvoir continuer à avancer, proposer les opportunités que j’ai eues à toutes les prochaines génération d’étudiants.

Arrivé trois heures et demi plus tôt, et pensant rester peu, je réalise tout à coup qu’il est minuit et demie, que les métro s’arrêtent. Un bref coup d’œil à 360° : des jeunes de Hong Kong, Chine, Inde, Slovaquie, Portugal, Roumanie, Suède, Turquie, Brésil, Colombie, Tunisie, Maroc… et de tous les coins de la France. Et encore une vingtaine de personnes que je n’ai pas rencontrées. Tout cela me rappelle beaucoup Pékin, où les soirées étaient similaires dans l’esprit, avec bien sûr des personnes différentes.

Je me retrouve dehors. Le froid polaire qui a caractérisé Paris cette semaine me ramène à la réalité, je reviens brutalement d’une autre planète, d’un moment un peu déconnecté du temps avec des gens que je connaissais depuis longtemps pour certains, d’autres que j’avais seulement l’impression de connaître depuis longtemps.

Si mes 6 dernières années étaient à refaire… pour rien au monde je ne changerais ;) je ne suis pas sûr quoi faire de tout ça. Si je devais avoir une seule certitude, c’est que cette mixité culturelle, libre de préjugés, existe vraiment, et ce seront bien les dernières personnes à pratiquer des discriminations, dans leur vie sociale, ou à vouloir un conflit armé. Et c’est déjà pas mal.

the "I'm back" chapter

Back to reality.
It has been 5 days now. Five days in France, in Paris and its suburban area... Already it is hard to believe I ever left. I read again a few chats I had with Andrew, Alex, or Christine: we all feel the same the moment we come back. It's like we have not been to China, and the world around us makes sense... again ;)
Except for a few things, I can find my way around in France with eyes closed.
But I can sense my perspective has changed: I see things differently, or I feel them in a very "new" way.
- the newspaper talk about the government. More than that, I can actually understand what the newspaper talk about! which is a big progress :). Articles from the opposition parties. News from the wide world are in every magazine, even the free ones (20 minutes, Metro)
- the subway, the streets feel empty!China's population make every single place in the country bustling with loud crowds at any time of day or night;
- the buildings in Paris look low, so low, small and tiny compared to HongKong's impressive skyline or the shanghainese Bund's breathtaking view.
the complexity of the subway network, the stations, where you walk for such a long time underground; Beijing is much more straightforward: walk in, you are in, walk out you are out.
- I see clothes and fashion as if it came out of a magazine: long jacket, blazers, western-style haircut (that could qualify as "normal" or "non-alien" compared to what I've come across in China!)
- when I visited relatives, I would stomp my feet on each step in the staircase, expecting the light to switch on. then I remembered this was not China, and you actually have to light the place manually, finding the switch in the dark!
- so many seats in the subway trains and stations!! you can sit down while waiting for your train. what a relief. makes me wonder why they don't have them in Beijing. too many people require every square inch available? people would fight for the seats?

I have to admit, I still turn around and look behind my back every time I talk about China. Just checking who is listening. It surprises me how strong this habit has become, and how hard it is to lose it. I can access every blog, every website here is open.

It's good to see my family again, also, and reconnect with the French culture: big chunks of meat, mashed (fully cooked and not spicy!!)potatoes, etc.

My time in Beijing has been totally great, thanks a lot to all the people I met there for being so nice and welcoming. China is a big country, on its way to becoming a great one. Just "don't look too hard behind the back of the sofa"; your country of origin also has its flaws, and you can't lead 1,3 billion people like you do with just under 70 million. or 230 million, for that matter. I miss many things from Beijing, the welcoming smile of people most of the time, the bargaining at any time of the day, finding food just in the street down my apartment, and the ability of people to cope with anything and adapt so fast. I found myself in a mold: it shapes me, I dont shape it.
These small details, feelings that things have changed whereas in fact I am the one who changed... help to remind me that my experience in China was real, that it was not a dream.
Talking about dream, a really nice location to visit is Tioman Island and the archipel around it, on the East Coast of Malaysia.

Cheers to all and thanks for following.

Jean

A great day out

Yesterday was sooooo amaaaazing!!
well, yes, indeed it was.

we set out around 8.30 in the morning to go down from KL to Port Dickson, a small beach on the west coast with nothing much apart from the seashore, and later Melaka, the historical city of Malaysia.
The Port Dickson trip was actually part of a school gathering; Choy, Dominique, and Xiao Ma, my hosts for the day, led me to join 80 other law students on the beach and play a few games, like volleyball and "guess what/who Im trying to imitate". quite a lot of fun. Since Malaysia is a very religious country, most of the girls attending wore a headscarf, and though it was a bit surprising for me to see the majority wearing it, it became sort of natural after some time. It's just part of their daily lives, I won't have a say in it.
In the sea, a few families were swimming, women fully clothed on. Men and children wore only swimsuit.
The beach was very nice, white sand, extremely fine, and we walked all the lenght of it, and back again. Before we knew it, Choy and I were quite burned. Actually, he was rather okay with his darker tan, but got sunburnt on the nose (everybody kept telling me"hold your nose! it's going to fall any minute now!"), and behind the legs, which is actually very painful every time you want to sit.
The student gathering was for me just another demonstration of how diverse the country is, people showing so many different origins: Indonesia, India, China, indigenous Malays from the peninsula, indigenous from Borneo Island... all tones of skin color, all with different accents, different native mother tongues. They address these differences as "races", but it does not cayy the same meaning as in French, so people will not get offended by that term.
we had lunch in Melaka: typical, local "chicken rice", which consists of a half chicken cut into slices, served with riceballs, cucumber, and chili sauce. Grab a wood stick, pick a piece of chicken and add a rice ball at the end, dip it in the sauce... yummy!!
Xiao Ma guided us throug the city, because he comes from there, and invited us to that restaurant. Later on, we bumped into a dutch brass band playing some jazz classics, an impressively tall Dutch woman coordinating a painting class for beginners on a public plazza, and we ended up in the inevitable Chinatown.
Every medium-sized or larger city here has its Chinatown neighbourhood, since Chinese make up for around 30% of the population, on average.
At the very top of the main hill of Melaka, one can see the relatively well preserved remains of the Portuguese church, and a few tombstones of Dutch traders and explorers.
we did visit everything, or close, and retreated from the burning-hot sun into a local cafe to eat pineapple tart, a specialty of the city which is just as good as the name allows you to imagine :) we took a box for the trip back to Kuala Lumpur.
The city has a traditional architecture, the colonial influence is visible. It has been adapted to deal with the sun ad monsoon rains, also. Though the city was colonized successively by the Portuguese, the British ad the Dutch, it is the latter whose influence is most visible today.
To end a good day, we went for dinner at a Satay restaurant: choose sticks from a giant fridge, whicever you want: squid, pork, local type of bread, vegetables, tofu, chicken, prawns... then throw them in the hotpot in the middle of the table. after a few minutes, you can take them out and enjoy your freshly cooked dinner with cucumber and rice.
I recommend this trip to anyone who is going in the area of Melaka, it is really "depaysant". the beach in Port Dickson is nicer, and offers some sailing opportunities.