The funny thing about traveling to other countries, to paraphrase what the character Vincent Vega tells Jules Winnfield in director Quentin Tarantino’s 1994 Pulp Fiction, is noticing the little differences: Search and seizure based on reasonable suspicion, recreational marijuana, the use of the metric system, and, of course, Le Big Mac. Sidenote: I cannot believe this film will … Continue reading Tokyo, Japan: Waiting in Line for Mass Transit
I said that mid-March to early April was the best time to see the famed cherry blossoms in our nation’s capitol, Washington DC. Perhaps that would be for a typical spring. Yet this sequestered spring’s unusually cold temperatures held an unforgiving grip into April, until a few days ago. Continue reading Cherry Blossoms, Washington DC
Two people. Sixty-four squares.
We met while touring the OpĂ©ra and decided to hang out. His name was Joey and I decided he looked trustworthy enough to take my picture with my fancy camera. Because until now all the selfie photos I’d taken were of me in mirrors and I was pretty sure I could catch him in a foot race. He was Canadian, harmless.
We were just passing through Centre Pompidou, on our way to a classical concert. Funny about plans, how quickly they can change.
Centre Pompidou is a cultural center I’ve heard characterized by more than a few guides as a building with its insides turned out, its multicolored exoskeleton that’s hard to resist imagining myself climbing all over like a giant jungle gym. A 2D Salvador DalĂ– esque mural peers over his fountain’s lidless eyes, faceless lips and makeshift futbol field. None seem to regard his absurd Shhhhh (or Chuuuuttt en français). Continue reading “Chess explained, Centre Pompidou, Paris”
Can I ask some fun-loving Filipino or Filipino American parents, in the spirit of tomorrow’s April Fools’ Day, to please hide a lavender- or pink-dyed balut in their Easter egg hunts today? Continue reading Balut, a new kind of Easter egg
