Her name is Anna Sophie Loewenberg.

She is an Jewish-American filmmaker/journalist living in Beijing. Her fluency in Mandarin definitely puts me to shame. If my grandma had access to Youtube, she would definitely give me a lecture about my poor ties with the Chinese world. Haha.

Anyways, Loewenberg produced Sexy Beijing, a mini-documentary series on Youtube, which discusses some quirky things about the nation's capital. Her documentary style takes elements from Sex and the City's Carrie Bradshaw, where she, as a similar thirty-something, narrates her inquisitive thoughts about the transitioning Chinese culture and documents her encounters with its people.

The episode, Lost in Translation is a must see. She discusses some of the very creative English names Chinese people have come up with for themselves.

Here's the a list of episodes:

• Lost in Translation {Highly recommended)


• Sexy Christmas
• Weddings Gone Wild
• Country Loving
• Looking for Double Happiness
• Jew Brew
• Anna May Wong

Anna Sophie Loewenberg - [geocities.com]

I forgot my razor in Markham, and got ripped off at Pharmasave due to sheer grooming urgency.

Do you know what's sucky about being Chinese? Unless you're like Shawn, our genes doesn't seem to facilitate a full head of facial hair. It's completely irritating.

Those who hate shaving might think that the slowness of facial hair growth posed by many Asians is a good thing. This is a misconception. Sure, my facial hair, while grows comparatively slower than your average male, grows at a rate that that would be noticable after a few days. This part is fine.

The problem comes when my hormones, or whatever part of the body that promotes hair growth, is unable to grow at a consistent rate throughout my face. This leaves nodes of hair growth at the corners of my upper lips and my chin-- and no where else.

This problem causes me to shave daily; there's nothing more consistent than a close shave. So whenever you ask a Chinese man why he needs to shave daily-- here's your answer. Haha.

The character in the graphic is 'pig' in Chinese. The left part of the character is the suffix for all that is related to meat; the right part is sort of a homophone for the same word.

I love Chinese New Year, it comes at a crucial time in the middle of the Winter to bring in some holiday cheer. I think the way to make Canadians less depressed is to bring in a few holidays during the winter months.

Parliament should impose a February holiday called "Happy Day" or something.

Anyways, Chinese New Year is this Sunday, February 18th-- and this is a very critical time for me, since most 1983-born children (February 13, 1983 - February 1, 1984), such as myself, are Pigs under the Chinese Zodiac. It's actually quite depressing, since it has dawned on me that I am turning 24.

As you might be aware, the Chinese Zodiac runs on a 12-year cycle of animals, so this upcoming year of the pig is yet another age milestone.

Just as a cultural tidbit, it is considered taboo to ask people what Chinese Zodiac they are. This is because one can easily guess what age a person is by their zodiac. For example, because I am born a pig, you know my age is a multiple of 12. And as you are aware, I do not look 12, and I hope to never look like I'm 36. Anyway, just like how you would not ask a lady how old she is, you would not ask what zodiac she is.

Although I question how the Chinese are able to associate traits for all people born within a particular year, it is stated that pigs "don't talk much but have a great thirst for knowledge." They are also "quick tempered, yet they hate arguments and quarreling," and they have "tremendous fortitude and great honesty."

Haha, I should write these qualities in my personals.

If you are interested in your own zodiac, vist the Chinese Culture Centre of San Francisco website.

Chinese New Year - [wikipedia.org]
Chinese Culture Center's Zodiac Page - [c-c-c.org]

This past weekend was a Chinese holiday known as the Mid-Autumn Festival.

It occurs on the 15th day of the 8th month in the Lunar Calendar, and is pretty much the equivalent of Canada's Thanksgiving Day, where we celebrate our harvest.

It also celebrates about some Chinese myth about some lady that lived on the moon, but I forget. (No, not Sailor Moon)

Back to the topic, for those who aren't familiar with the Lunar calendar, the 15th day of each month is the day where the moon is its fullest. Particularly the 8th month, the moon is especially large, as it is closer to the earth.

Instead of the traditional turkey, Chinese people have moon cakes to recognise this holiday. If you enjoy really oily and really sweet things, moon cakes are your best bet. (By the way, my parents actually packed one for me coming back to Waterloo-- so Waterlooians, you can have some!). Aside from moon cakes, lighting lanterns is also a tradition during this time.

I remember when I was a little boy in Hong Kong, it was such a big deal-- presumably it still is today. Anyways, my parents would buy-- my sister, my cousins and me-- paper lanterns and we'd flock on the streets just doing what kids consider fun (e.g. running around chasing each other for no apparent reason). Anyways, one particular year is still vivid in my momory and I was probably four years of age. It was a really chilly night-- probably temperatures in the single digits-- which, by the way, is very cold considering Hong Kong's high humidity values.

I remember there was a little night market arrangement set up at the outdoor square next to our flat. While each of us was holding on to our paper lanterns, I admired some of those crazy lanterns that was lit by blubs-- ours were the "real" lanterns, lit by candles.

Of course, my parents would not spend money on such waste, and snubbed me off. I think the reason why I still remember this so vividly is because of what happened next.

As we were heading home, being the clumsy boy that I was (and still am), I carelessly jolted my lantern while I was playing, and it lit on fire. After my discovery, I alerted my dad-- with the expectation that he could save my lantern. But instead, he threw it to the ground and smothered for fire by stomping on it.

This is when I start crying and demanding that he get me another one.

Of course, he didn't. What's worse, my sister, nor my cousins, gave me theirs. Mind you, I'm the youngest of my sister and my cousins.

What happened to young kid always getting their own way? Obviously, this is a myth.

Anyways, the moral of this story is that Mid-Autumn Festival was definitely really fun, and I hope to go back to Hong Kong to experience that again-- well maybe not the lantern burning part.

Despite the large Chinese population in Toronto, we simply haven't carried our traditions with us in Canada. The only thing that we have carried on in Canada is the annoyance of dim sum restaurants nagging you to buy mooncakes. Oh gawd, it's so irritating after a while.

Mid-Autumn Festival - [wikiedpia.org]

Whoa. It's hard to believe that it's my Sweet 16. I'm definitely quasi-stoked.

Let me correct myself-- it's not just my big day, but also my family's. So put away your smooshy ballad CD's and spin-the-bottle bottles-- and also send all the cute teenage boys home (I should be barred for saying that) because it's not time for a Sweet 16 party-- though crazyily enough, it sounds fun.

It was 16 years ago today, that a little young Chinese tot (me) immigrated to Canada with his beloved family. To get away from all the Hong Kong sovereignity issues, and the poor environmental conditions-- but most of all, to experience a better life and a better education-- my parents decided to fill in some papers and move to Canada.

I was only 5 at the time and just graduated from St. Stephen's Catholic Kindergarten. I seriously didn't know what was going on. All I knew was that I was going to leave all my little friends and move to a place called "Canada." Which really doesn't help, since I didn't really know where or what that is. All I know was it was north of Hong Kong, meaning it will be colder.

"So where's north?," I asked
"Where the compass points to," Dad replied
I must say how helpful his answer was at the time.

I remember making fun of the name "Canada"-- you know how children are-- because "Canada" in Chinese is "???"; which is the name's Chinese phonetic interpretation-- it sounds quite similar in Mandarin (ja-na-da), but not so much in Cantonese (ka-la-dai). Anyways, in Chinese, it means "plus take big" if taken character-for-character.

So yeah, being kids, I'd make fun of that. :P

According to my parents, when they applied for a visa, their initial choice of settlement was Calgary because apparently there was proportionately more support for immigrants there at the time (no evidence if that was true), but ultimately we decided to settle in Toronto, specfically in North York.

Anyways, after a long plane ride on the now defunct Canadian Airlines. I clearly remember:

• vomitting on my flap-down table because there was so much turbulence-- at least to me. The flight attendant was so grossed out that she totally just steered clear from me and just offered tissues for my dad to clean up my mess


• seeing the Hong Kong skyline and how dangerously close we were to the structures nearby. As some of you might recall, the now non-operational Kai Tak Airport was surrounded by dangerously tall densely populated areas


• eating the bad airline food. yuck!
  
• sitting in the aisle seat, since my sister always got her way-- mind you I was the younger brother.

When we finally arrived to Canada, I didn't really notice all that much, probably because I just wasn't observant. However, one thing I vividly remember was how much better the air was. I didn't exactly realize it at the time, but I just found myself enjoying taking really big breaths -- as if the air was scarce and that I must intake it all in.

Our parents and I were shocked to be coming to a place that had sunshine until 9:00. It was amazing.

Now, 16 years later, we don't really celebrate it much, but we do definitely observe this momentious day in our family's history. I remember how it was a really big deal for the first five or six years and we'd go out for a nice dinner-- as it was a big milestone for us at the time considering the difficulties of settling here from a foreign country.

I will take this opportunity to praise Canada. We live in a great country and we demonstrate a grand social showcase that is strikingly unique to the world. Our general acceptance for diversity and our collective-leaning society (i.e. strive for societal needs) is something we should truly be proud of. Never shall anyone try to take that away from us. (Ahem, Ralph Klein)

...I think it will make for an interesting year, don't you agree? Haha!

As many of you might know, we are quickly approaching probably my current second best holiday of the year-- Chinese New Year. Hence the reason for my excursion back to Markham this weekend.

But I came back to Mark's Ham to discover that there was no family dinner whatsoever-- it has been scheduled for next weekend. This is disappointing as I will not be home next weekend. I was expecting a big gathering, like super good food, those red papers with four character greetings on them, those big candy boxes, dragon dancing, those darn annoying drums, oh and those those firecracker things (hehe, maybe not the latter few).

MULLET MATT
Anyways, I desperately needed a haircut, so I zoomed myself to the local hair dresser to fix me up-- and of course there is a queue of like a bizilion people -- all trying to get their haircuts before the New Year. I couldn't pick a better time to get a haircut. According to my grandmother, you are not supposed to wash, let alone cut your hair on New Years Day. The "Choy Sun", or the Fortune God, gives you luck on New Years, so if you wash your hair, you will wash your luck. Also, I remember hearing that because the word "hair" in Cantonese sounds like the word "rich"-- so yeah, you get the gist of it.

A few years back, I had a haircut on that day, and my grandmother had the biggest fit. Oh my.

So yes, after a long wait at the hairdresser, it was finally my turn. I didn't wear my contacts that day-- stupidly enough-- and this hairdresser fucking give me a mini-mullet!

AHHHHHHHH!

Holy geez, it was disgusting. Anyways, I don't know where these people learn to cut hair-- and you know when they take the mirror and show you the back of your head? It never works, I can never really tell, just because you see the ends, but you don't see it in its relation to the rest of your head. Anyways, my mom had to do a small operation to make it better. UGH!

PARKING FIGHTS AT PACIFIC MALL (Markham's best pasttime)
So yes, my parents decide that they want to have Dim Sum with my aunt's, and of course, they wish to go to Pacific Mall. Why they choose to go there -- and on the weekend, a NEW YEAR weekend--is beyond my comphrehension because it is pretty much a warzone of suburban Chinese people.

Anyways, I decide to drop off my parents so they can "ba wai", or "raid a table." Seriously, the terms we use in the Chinese language is quite intriguingly humourous-- we must not get a table, but "raid" a table.

I'm digressing.

So I decide to just stop my car at one of the parking aisles and wait for incoming people who may be leaving. There is a Camry fairly close to mines, who is doing essentially what I am doing. Anyways, a person finally approaches our aisle and its attempting to leave-- their car (a Matrix) happens to be right next to where the Camry had idled.

Both the Camry, the Matrix and myself pretty much have an understanding that the parking spot will go to the Camry-- as he has been waiting their much longer than I had. Then suddenly, this see lai with a Pathfinder swooshes by from the opposite direction and signals for the Matrix's spot.

Uh oh, here comes trouble.

Anyways, the Camry attempts to back into the spot, while the Pathfinder see lai abuses her horn. The Pathfinder lady then leaves her car and smacks the hood of the Camry-asking him what the fuck he is doing. She yells at him that she signaled first. The man in the Camry seem somewhat passive and just took it.

Anyways, the man continues to attempt to back in, while the see lai runs into the spot, preventing him from taking the spot. This went on for several minutes-- but let me remind you that the see lai is now blocking traffic on both directions, since her SUV is still parked in the aisle.

I just couldn't take it anymore and got up and told the see lai to just let the Camry man park, since I can witness that he's been waiting a long time. Not to mention that she is indeed making a big fuss and blocking traffic.

She didn't budge.

Seriously, what a bitch. An inconsiderate, ignorant bitch. First of all, don't you dare smack a person's car-- that's really asking to get punched or something. And because of her, it clogged up the aisle for a good ten minutes.

Finally I found a spot, but she gave in when she found another spot. That's right sucker! Haha, although I learned a valuable lesson that day, don't mess with see lai's.

I hate P-Mall for that reason, just being in there stresses you out. You just can't not be angry when you go there.

Markham, gotta love it. Yikes.