On the last day of 2009, I received two official papers, one in the morning when I walked into my office and the other in the late afternoon just two minutes before I shut down my laptop and said 'see you next year' to my assistants and other colleagues.
The morning paper informs me that my proposal for an industry-university collaboration project has been approved and TWD 2 million (USD 62,000) will be granted by the University to recruit more full-time research assistants for my database construction project.
The afternoon paper confirms that my postdoctoral contract has been renewed, with a pay rise.
Taiwanese people believe that children always bring their own fortune so that parents will have necessary financial resources to raise them up. Although I was a bit disappointed when I came to know it was a boy, not a girl as I wished, well, I believe he will be a source of strength and confidence for me.
Adiós, 2009.
31 December 2009
23 December 2009
A tight daily schedule for a weekday
It's been two months since Fanne and I moved to our new flat. In order to look after pregnant Fanne and the expected baby, I conduct my weekday life according to a strict daily schedule.
06.45 Leave my four-poster bed without any hesitation
07.00 Cook breakfast
07.20 Have breakfast with Fanne
07.45 Wash crockery, cutlery and pans, as well as clean the kitchen
08.00 Empty rubbish and recycling bins
08.20 March to my office with my chin up and shoulders back
08.50 Have a cup of Lipton Yellow Label
09.00 (a)Make simple facts more complicated in my office so that they become esoteric and understood by only a small number of people with compartmentalised and specialised academic knowledge; or
(b)Explain complicated matters in an effortless during lectures in an undemanding manner so that students will never learn know enough and I remain authoritative
14.00 Figure out if I have had lunch and, if not, feed myself and then keep working on the aforementioned task (a) or (b)
18.00 Return home in an anxious fashion
18.30 Have a cup of tea made from Taiwanese loose-leaf green tea which was brewed in the morning and left unattended during the day
18.45 Cooking dinner
20.00 Welcome Fanne back by giving her a tepid greeting, and then serve and dine with her
21.30 Wash crockery, cutlery and pans, as well as clean the kitchen, again
22.00 Embed myself firmly in the sofa, watching Japanese drama on TV and reading whatever printed publications at the same time
23.30 Shower myself with chilly water to remind myself of my existence
24.00 Call the day a day and enter my four-poster
This is my weekday life and life will go on.
06.45 Leave my four-poster bed without any hesitation
07.00 Cook breakfast
07.20 Have breakfast with Fanne
07.45 Wash crockery, cutlery and pans, as well as clean the kitchen
08.00 Empty rubbish and recycling bins
08.20 March to my office with my chin up and shoulders back
08.50 Have a cup of Lipton Yellow Label
09.00 (a)Make simple facts more complicated in my office so that they become esoteric and understood by only a small number of people with compartmentalised and specialised academic knowledge; or
(b)Explain complicated matters in an effortless during lectures in an undemanding manner so that students will never learn know enough and I remain authoritative
14.00 Figure out if I have had lunch and, if not, feed myself and then keep working on the aforementioned task (a) or (b)
18.00 Return home in an anxious fashion
18.30 Have a cup of tea made from Taiwanese loose-leaf green tea which was brewed in the morning and left unattended during the day
18.45 Cooking dinner
20.00 Welcome Fanne back by giving her a tepid greeting, and then serve and dine with her
21.30 Wash crockery, cutlery and pans, as well as clean the kitchen, again
22.00 Embed myself firmly in the sofa, watching Japanese drama on TV and reading whatever printed publications at the same time
23.30 Shower myself with chilly water to remind myself of my existence
24.00 Call the day a day and enter my four-poster
This is my weekday life and life will go on.
25 November 2009
The Shamisen Club without a shamisen
(London Shamisen Club, live in Taipei 101)
Requested by London Shamisen Club, I am writing lyrics for two pieces, which the group will deliver in their upcoming gigs in Taipei.
London Shamisen Club consists of a mandola, a tablah (or darbuka, the goblet drum from Middle East and neighbouring areas, not the Indian tabla), a violin, a clarinet, percussion and sometimes other guest instruments. This group plays their original works, as well as rearranged folk music from a wide geographic range, including Greece, Argentine, Algeria, Cuba, Uyghur, Tajik, Malaysia and Turkey, with a 1950s retro-electro/dancehall flavour.
The key person of this group is the mandola player Tommo, who writes all the works and makes arrangements. Tommo has lived in London for so many years and thus, I believe, this Shamisen Club is called after the name of the city. However, I'm not sure about Shamisen, the Japanese three-string plucked instrument. Perhaps it has something to do with 'zen' or certain ancient Asian philosophy: because nobody plays shamisen in this group, it has to be named so.
Tommo would like me to give the two pieces a hint of showa kayo (昭和歌謡, 'ballads from the Shōwa period') and emphasises that showa kayo must not be confused with enka. As a purist who is obsessed about definitions and details, I have to listen to more song examples to discover the differences. I should write another entry for showa kayo later.
20 November 2009
Anti-stress kit
As we are approaching the end of 2009, many people are ready to go for Christmas celebrations and Hogmanay, while some academics are busy crafting term reports about their scholastic achievements and concocting project proposals to solicit more subsidies and secure their jobs.
I'm sure that most of my academic colleagues are really under pressure, just like myself, at the moment. In sympathy with some of my professional brethren, I would like to present an anti-stress kit, which I got from a member of the management team of NEXT, the shop where I worked as a cleaner when I studied in Stirling University, Scotland.
This kit worked very well on me when I struggled to finish my doctoral thesis, and thus I believe it will just run greatly for those who are under academic pressure. Some of my friends and colleagues in Stirling also found it useful.
As it's copyright-free, those who need it may print out as many as they wish or probably make some drink mats, and deliver them, as free samples, to their academic colleagues.
Right, let's fighting against stress.
05 November 2009
I miss my first Spanish textbook
Whenever I can't find an item, whatever if may be, and get wildly insane, my mum or Fanne usually calms me down and then assures me that one day it will turn out, especially when you pack up all the stuff for home moving.
However, although we've moved into our new home for three weeks, I still can't find out the Spanish textbook which I've mentioned to a lot of Spanish-speaking friends. It is definitely more than a language textbook; it is creative writing in practice.
I bought this textbook when I was a senior high school student at a secondhand bookstall in Taichung 16 years ago. It was printed by certain California-based publisher and seemed to be a textbook of Latin American Spanish, as I was told later that a lot of expressions in this book, such as comemos juntos y platicamos, were only used by people in Latin America, particularly in Mexico.
Nevertheless, what impressed me most was not those Latin American expressions, but the materials for conversation practice. I still remember the first four lessons in this book.
Lesson 1 is about daily greetings, such as Hola (Hello), Buenos días (Good day).
Lesson 2 teaches how to count in Spanish.
Lesson 3 gives some basic words including days of the week.
Lesson 4 starts conversations.
What a huge leap! How can you chat with others only with a few basic words and daily expressions? I'd never forget the two dialogues below for the rest of my life. They are certainly not from a textbook, but from an anthology of poems.
(I)
A: Hay un elefante en la estación.
(There is an elephant in the station.)
B: ¡Es absolutamente ridículo!
(That's absolutely ridiculous!)
A: Es mío.
(It's mine.)
B: ¡Qué hombre tan raro!
(What a strange man!)
(II)
A: Hay un gorila en la escuela.
(There is a gorilla in the school.)
B: ¡Es absolutamente terrible!
(That's absolutely terrible!)
A: Lo adopté.
(I adopted him.)
B: ¡Qué hombre tan valiente!
(What a brave man!)
This is literature, poetry, not language learning. I want this book back! Where is it?
However, although we've moved into our new home for three weeks, I still can't find out the Spanish textbook which I've mentioned to a lot of Spanish-speaking friends. It is definitely more than a language textbook; it is creative writing in practice.
I bought this textbook when I was a senior high school student at a secondhand bookstall in Taichung 16 years ago. It was printed by certain California-based publisher and seemed to be a textbook of Latin American Spanish, as I was told later that a lot of expressions in this book, such as comemos juntos y platicamos, were only used by people in Latin America, particularly in Mexico.
Nevertheless, what impressed me most was not those Latin American expressions, but the materials for conversation practice. I still remember the first four lessons in this book.
Lesson 1 is about daily greetings, such as Hola (Hello), Buenos días (Good day).
Lesson 2 teaches how to count in Spanish.
Lesson 3 gives some basic words including days of the week.
Lesson 4 starts conversations.
What a huge leap! How can you chat with others only with a few basic words and daily expressions? I'd never forget the two dialogues below for the rest of my life. They are certainly not from a textbook, but from an anthology of poems.
(I)
A: Hay un elefante en la estación.
(There is an elephant in the station.)
B: ¡Es absolutamente ridículo!
(That's absolutely ridiculous!)
A: Es mío.
(It's mine.)
B: ¡Qué hombre tan raro!
(What a strange man!)
(II)
A: Hay un gorila en la escuela.
(There is a gorilla in the school.)
B: ¡Es absolutamente terrible!
(That's absolutely terrible!)
A: Lo adopté.
(I adopted him.)
B: ¡Qué hombre tan valiente!
(What a brave man!)
This is literature, poetry, not language learning. I want this book back! Where is it?
30 October 2009
Fanne's portrait
We brought this portrait with us when moving into our new home two weeks ago.This pencil sketch portrait was finished in 1995, when I was a second-year undergraduate student. It took me three months. I still have no idea how I did it and don't think I can do it again for the rest of my life.
Since I never took any sketch lesson, I read a lot of 'how-to' and 'for-dummies' books and practised all the necessary skills for quite a long time before I really started.
Moreover, Fanne rejected me and refused to give me a photo when I started my courtship, so I could only watch her from a distance and draught as much as possible. It was really a tough task for me.
However, it's now part of our fond memories of undergraduate days and the portrait will surely be passed down for generations.
29 October 2009
The Lonely Accordion
I received a request, probably an order, from May to learn a new song, 'The Lonely Accordion' (Gudu de shoufeng qin 孤獨的手風琴), the screen song of the latest film Prince of Tears (Lei wangzi 淚王子), so that I can sing it in a KTV (ie, a karaoke box, which consists of multiple rooms containing karaoke equipment to be rented for time periods).
It's a story which took place in a 'military-dependent village' (juanchun 眷村) of the air force in Taiwan during the White Terror era, the years when martial law and one-party dictatorship were imposed by the Nationalist government and numerous political dissidents and innocent suspects were imprisoned, tortured and eliminated.
The film is going to be screened tomorrow (30 October) in Taiwan, but the original sound track has already been released. May sent me a link to YouTube, the MV of the screen song, by the veteran Hong Kong singer Goerge Lam (林子祥).
The song is origianlly a famous Russian song 'The Lonely Accordion' (Одинокая бродит гармонь), composed by Boris Mokrousov in 1947, with lyrics by Mikhail Isakovsky. It's about a young accordionist walking alone at night in search of someone, against a backdrop of apple blossoms and a chill blowing in from the fields.
In the film the army pilot, who was imprisoned for suspected espionage, plays the accordion, and thus this melancholic Russian tune is especially chosen and adapted into a Mandarin song. It is the original Russian song that May asks me to sing.
Well, I found the Russian lyrics last night and will study it over the weekend. Next time when I visit a KTV, I shall sing in Russian while other singing the adapted Mandarin version.
Снова замерло всё до рассвета,
Дверь не скрипнет, не вспыхнет огонь.
Только слышно, на улице где-то
Одинокая бродит гармонь.
То пойдёт на поля, за ворота,
То обратно вернётся опять,
Словно ищет в потёмках кого-то
И не может никак отыскать.
Веет с поля ночная прохлада,
С яблонь цвет облетает густой...
Ты признайся - кого тебе надо,
Ты скажи, гармонист молодой.
Может, радость твоя недалёка,
Да не знает, её ли ты ждёшь...
Что ж ты бродишь всю ночь одиноко,
Что ж ты девушкам спать не даёшь!
It's a story which took place in a 'military-dependent village' (juanchun 眷村) of the air force in Taiwan during the White Terror era, the years when martial law and one-party dictatorship were imposed by the Nationalist government and numerous political dissidents and innocent suspects were imprisoned, tortured and eliminated.
The film is going to be screened tomorrow (30 October) in Taiwan, but the original sound track has already been released. May sent me a link to YouTube, the MV of the screen song, by the veteran Hong Kong singer Goerge Lam (林子祥).
The song is origianlly a famous Russian song 'The Lonely Accordion' (Одинокая бродит гармонь), composed by Boris Mokrousov in 1947, with lyrics by Mikhail Isakovsky. It's about a young accordionist walking alone at night in search of someone, against a backdrop of apple blossoms and a chill blowing in from the fields.
In the film the army pilot, who was imprisoned for suspected espionage, plays the accordion, and thus this melancholic Russian tune is especially chosen and adapted into a Mandarin song. It is the original Russian song that May asks me to sing.
Well, I found the Russian lyrics last night and will study it over the weekend. Next time when I visit a KTV, I shall sing in Russian while other singing the adapted Mandarin version.
Снова замерло всё до рассвета,
Дверь не скрипнет, не вспыхнет огонь.
Только слышно, на улице где-то
Одинокая бродит гармонь.
То пойдёт на поля, за ворота,
То обратно вернётся опять,
Словно ищет в потёмках кого-то
И не может никак отыскать.
Веет с поля ночная прохлада,
С яблонь цвет облетает густой...
Ты признайся - кого тебе надо,
Ты скажи, гармонист молодой.
Может, радость твоя недалёка,
Да не знает, её ли ты ждёшь...
Что ж ты бродишь всю ночь одиноко,
Что ж ты девушкам спать не даёшь!
30 September 2009
Electric Soran
Carla, a former assistant in the Taiwanese music history database project, is going to get married in November. Since I have been reading books and papers on dance music and started trying to produce some, I decided to make a short piece as an extra wedding congratulatory token for her.
This is my second attempt at making dance music. Adapted phrases from Felix Mendelssohn's 'Wedding March' and samples taken from two Taiwanese oldies are integrated into this track.
While to Western ears extracts from Taiwanese songs are unfamiliar and thus carry no significance, most Taiwanese listeners will recognise their association with a wedding.
The Taiwanese song is actually adapted from Soran bushi (ソーラン節), originally a kind of Japanese folk song of the herring fishermen in Hokkaido, the northernmost of the four main islands of Japan. Soran bushi is particular sung while transferring the herring from large drift nets into scoop nets.
While bushi simply means the song melody, soran is a vocable sung out repeatedly by the crowd in unison at the beginning and in the mid of the song to keep them in tune and in rhythm. Listen to a recorded Japanese version:
As soran sounds very much similar to the Taiwanese given name Solan (素蘭), when the Japanese song 'Soran bushi' was covered in Taiwanese to become a popular song in 1960s Taiwan, the original string of non-lexical vocables 'soran, soran, soran, soran...' was adapted into 'Miss Solan is going to get married'. Listen to the adapted Taiwanese version:
This is my second attempt at making dance music. Adapted phrases from Felix Mendelssohn's 'Wedding March' and samples taken from two Taiwanese oldies are integrated into this track.
While to Western ears extracts from Taiwanese songs are unfamiliar and thus carry no significance, most Taiwanese listeners will recognise their association with a wedding.
The Taiwanese song is actually adapted from Soran bushi (ソーラン節), originally a kind of Japanese folk song of the herring fishermen in Hokkaido, the northernmost of the four main islands of Japan. Soran bushi is particular sung while transferring the herring from large drift nets into scoop nets.
While bushi simply means the song melody, soran is a vocable sung out repeatedly by the crowd in unison at the beginning and in the mid of the song to keep them in tune and in rhythm. Listen to a recorded Japanese version:
As soran sounds very much similar to the Taiwanese given name Solan (素蘭), when the Japanese song 'Soran bushi' was covered in Taiwanese to become a popular song in 1960s Taiwan, the original string of non-lexical vocables 'soran, soran, soran, soran...' was adapted into 'Miss Solan is going to get married'. Listen to the adapted Taiwanese version:
24 September 2009
It's 'he', not 'she'.
We have just had our third prenatal ultrasound examination. The foetus is growing well and Fanne is in good health. The baby is due in next early March.
Fanne has just bought a new flat and the home decorating project is almost finished. We'll move into the new flat in early October. So, in less than half a year's time, a new-born child will join the new home.
Sounds fabulous, isn't it? However, I'm not in the mood. What disillusionment! We were told today during the examination, it is he, not she. I thought I was going to have a daughter.
I think it'll take me at least a couple of months to recover from this.
18 September 2009
Falling asleep in the office
(Sound sleep, taken in Stirling, 2002)
I fell asleep in the office in the late afternoon yesterday while listening to some Shanghai oldies and preparing a playlist for next week's radio programme.
When I studied at Stirling University, I made my name cooking for colleagues and people from the local community, as well as falling asleep at midnight wherever I was. Whereas it's always a pleasure for a foodie to prepare a feast, it is absolutely a shame when someone drops off in a bustling jam-packed pub, a cheerful party organised by Greek students, or just an ordinary late night out on the town.
I used to be a part-time cleaner in the Thistles Shopping Centre in Stirling. I usually got up at 6.00 so that I had plenty of time to cook full breakfast and make sandwiches for lunch before I started the daily cleaning work at 7.00. Therefore, I had to go to bed at 12.00 midnight to get enough sleep. As my body's biological clock just functioned perfectly well, I always nodded off, and sometimes even got sound sleep, at midnight wherever I was.
I still remember that Pedro would always let me remain asleep and then woke me up at the end of the day, or probably the start of the next day.
I don't know whether I was just too tired or the circadian rhythm was reset by the heavy breakbeats and synthesizer-generated loops in the dance music I have been exploring recently. Anyway, as nobody noticed that I put my head down, it was not as bad as the case in the Greek party.
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