There are some days where the yoga completely kicks my ass and then the following day I have the best class. This week has been the perfect example of that. Today I had to drag myself to class, and once there my stomach was churning from the heat and for a moment I thought I was going to have to get up and get really, really ill. But something happened, I’m not sure what. Something just kicked in, and I had one of the best classes to date. I’ve been working on my Standing Head to Knee Pose for a few weeks now, trying to get my standing leg locked so I can extend my other leg out in front. Today that leg snapped in straight, if not only for a moment!! I wanted to laugh out loud – thankfully I was able to contain myself.
Making Progress July 29, 2008
Life’s A Beach, And Then You Die? July 18, 2008
I met my friend Greg out at Rockaway Park Beach today. What started out as a picture perfect beach day ended in a wild spectacle straight out of bad reality television. The beach was like a zoo today, mostly made up of local New Yorkers. In the mid afternoon, we noticed a large number of policemen and helicopters flying above. We heard that a girl had drowned and what ensued was a 4 hour search and rescue operation – to which we had front row seats. I had never seen anything like it before.
First, all of the lifeguards were called out and swam reconnaissance style in one straight line, diving down and bobbing back up in unison all along the shore. There were probably 25 of them and they were doing this for about an hour. While they were doing this, a few helicopters flew above and soon NYPD dinghy boats would join. When we saw 2 divers drop in the water, we knew it was really, really bad. At one time we could see 4 helicopters and 5 boats out in the water. It was especially insane when a helicopter flew in to the shore and landed so close to where we were sitting! While the helicopter edged its way onto the sand we talked frantically about packing our things up and making a run for it. I was beginning to panic. It was sheer sheer madness!! Everyone was cleared from the water and watched from the shore. But nothing surfaced and the body was never recovered. I overheard a parks ranger say the beach would be closed tomorrow for another search in the morning.
Photo by Greg Stadnyk
Vintage Sesame Street! July 14, 2008
Oscar the Grouch sings “Nasty Dan” with Johnny Trash, I mean Cash. Awesome!
Bikram Yoga, 2 Months In July 10, 2008
I see that my testimonial has been posted to the Bikram Yoga Lower East Side’s website. It’s interesting to see where I am now, another 40 days after I completed the 30 day challenge. I think I’ve only missed a handful of days since then. It’s become a daily ritual for me and helps me maintain my balance and perspective. I feel like I’ve undergone a metamorphosis, for I am not the same person that walked in there at the end of April. My friends often ask me if I’m interested in teaching, since I’m so passionate about my practice. It’s not something I’m interested in doing at the moment. I’m building my practice right now and as a newbie, I’m still in the mode of discovery. That’s the most interesting thing about yoga, you can do it for your whole life and it will still be a journey of discovery!
Happy 4th, Beautiful July 4, 2008
I’m the type of person that usually doesn’t get excited about things until they are right there in front of me. I hadn’t planned on seeing fireworks tonight, but as dusk settled in, I started to sense the sweet smell of barbecues and see dancing silhouettes on rooftops. So at the very last moment I picked up the phone and called my friend who lives a few blocks away, to see if she wanted to go for a walk along the river to see fireworks. What a grand idea that turned out to be! All along the river there were families and tents, barbecues roaring and neon bracelets, necklaces and pacifiers gleaming against the impending darkness. It was a zoo of hardcore native New Yorkers and the local transplants that stayed back to enjoy the quiet city. It can’t get any better than that.
I didn’t know it at the time, but we chose a prime spot to watch the fireworks, standing directly across from the Macy’s sign. I had no idea that this was going to be the best spot I’ve ever had …even better than the various rooftops I’ve been on throughout the years I have lived here. The fireworks started and at first I was scared of how close they seemed. The ashes from the fireworks came down on us along with the rain. I was also scared from the loud booming sounds – that is something from my childhood that I can’t quite shake. It took some getting used to. As the pyrotechnics gained momentum, I found myself standing there like a little girl, all smiles, oohing and ahhhing along with the crowd! The rain didn’t bother me, I was so engrossed. My favorite part was the sequence that resembled a moving, starry sky – like something you’d see on the Hubble. The ones with the parachutes were awesome too… after the fireworks shot off, there were these strings of light falling slowly from the sky attached to parachutes. How brilliant! It made me wonder about the career path of pyrotechnic designers. That must be every boy’s dream. I was giddy, experiencing sensory overload and it was good clean fun!! I don’t remember ever enjoying fireworks as much as I did tonight. I must have been all smiles while walking home because a father and son duo passed by, the father’s eyes flashing as he says to me “Happy 4th, Beautiful”.
Like A Fish Out Of Water July 2, 2008
Only, in the water…
I went to my first swimming class tonight. It was the intermediate swimming class, as recommended to me by the lovely membership lady – her name escapes me at the moment. So I show up, and I’m feeling nervous. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve tried to actually swim. I only learned how to swim as an adult! Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in the water since, but usually just hanging out in the shallows or aided by some sort of floaty device, all safe and sound.
So I’m standing there, nervously watching the beginner class while I wait for ours to begin. And I chatted up this girl standing next to me and ask her if she’s waiting for class. Turns out Elizabeth is from Paris, and although she can swim, she’s afraid to put her face in the water. Somehow this comforts me a little and I tell her I get scared when the water gets deep. And that I need a wall next to me.
So of course the first thing they told us to do was a lap. I must have had a look of horror on my face because the girl next to me gave me a sympathetic look. So I pushed off and went as far as I could, stopping a few times along the way to catch my breath. It was a challenge for sure and I could feel panic every time I ran out of breath. The teacher asked if I wanted to be moved to the beginner class, as he could see I was obviously uncomfortable with the laps, which would make up most of this class. At the end we assessed that I would probably be too advanced for the beginner class, yet I’m still not up to snuff to be in the intermediate class.
This sounds familiar – as this is the resonating theme in my life right now, in more ways than one. I left the pool thinking I wasn’t going to return. I felt so deflated. I hopped on my bike and enjoyed a leisurely ride home as the temperature was perfect tonight. The city has this beautiful serenity to it, as everyone tends to leave for the holiday weekend, which is precisely why I have decided to stay. I always enjoy the city when it’s quiet like this. So when I reached home I remembered what all the instructors say to us in yoga: “the only way through is through”. And I then I realized I have to see this out, how can I quit after only one class? I’m not a quitter! Yes I do have a real fear of the water and I’m not sure how I’m going to conquer it but I have to at least try. Talk about getting out of my comfort zone. I’m wondering now if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew…
Waterfalls June 29, 2008
I went to see Olafur Eliasson’s Waterfalls, along the East River. We couldn’t have picked a better time to go, as the sun was starting to set and the sky was a beautiful shade of pink and purple. I love the twilight hour, whether it is dawn or dusk. And being along the river there is a such a nice breeze!
And then I had a discussion with another friend of mine about public art. His argument was that our tax dollars were going to this project, which would promote tourist dollars and therefore support big box stores that are invading our beloved city. While I’m no fan of big box stores, I’m not sure I totally agree. What makes this a great city to live in is the abundance of art and culture. While large publicized installments such as this one will certainly draw in crowds of tourists, it’s free to the public which is a treat. There’s no denying that Mayor Bloomberg is first and foremost a businessman, yes. But I guess it doesn’t really bother me that much. I like to view public art as something that’s available to everyone, regardless of socioeconomic status. Here we were, enjoying the falls with people we’d never see set foot in a museum. I find a lot of beauty in that.
And as I walked down to meet my friend by the Brooklyn Bridge, I wound through the heart of the Lower East Side into the depths of Chinatown. It felt like another world – and I loved it. This is what the real New York feels like to me. People who have lived here for generations, playing ball in the local playgrounds. I don’t think they even spoke much English. I used my instincts and took streets that led me south and east, not knowing my direct path but keeping my eye on the bridges. It was a fun walk, I should do that more often.
hoto by Kathy Wu:
Getting Out Of The Comfort Zone June 24, 2008
I’m working with this new motto these days, and I’m having a lot of fun with it. I just signed up for a swim class today. My second one ever! I first learned how to swim 10 years ago, at the age of 23. It still is one of the best things I’ve done in my life so far. I had such a deep rooted fear of swimming. Overcoming that fear was an amazing experience for me.
Only I didn’t get rid of that fear entirely the first time. Apparently one class didn’t rid a lifetime of fear, especially fear as an adult. I always envied my friends growing up who would go to the pool, splish splashing their way through summer. In the rare event that I did go to the pool, you could find me in hanging out in the shallow end, not knowing what to do with myself. I hate to place the blame here, but I think my fear of the water came one summer when my dad took us to a lake. He and I walked out to the water, and the stones under my feet were making me uncomfortable. So my father picked me up and carried me out. He was ready to let go of me before I was and the next thing I know I’m under water, eyes open staring out at the green muck gasping for air. I could probably still even stand where I was but everything seemed so deep to me, just as the world looms so large when you’re so little in it. The experience was so traumatizing to me I hated the water after that. I was probably 10 years old.
In South Africa, Chinese is the New Black June 19, 2008
Say whaaaa? Yea. There was an article posted in the China Journal blog of the Wall Street Journal today. A high court ruled that Chinese South Africans will be reclassified as “black”. I know, it’s confusing. But the term “black” in South Africa includes not only bonafide black Africans, but also Indians and others who were subject to discrimination under apartheid. Apparently Chinese people have struggled with racism and lived in the outskirts since the early 20th century.
I’ve always been fascinated by the migration patterns of various groups of people; particularly in the spread of cuisine. People bring their culture and their food and it evolves with the new culture and environment. I wonder what Italian Chinese food would taste like? Are there various courses – first, second and third? I would imagine they would incorporate some regional flair into the food.
My friend Dave, who lived in South Africa for many years, refers to his Chinese South African friends as “chiggas”. Chinese niggas, if you will. I never understood where that term came from but now it makes more sense to me. It also made me realize how narrow my view was. I’m so focused on the plight of Asian Americans that I’ve managed to overlook the Asian experience in different countries. That’s a sign that I need to travel more! Either that or meet more international people.
If You Can’t Stand The Heat, Then Get Out Of The Kitchen June 15, 2008
Yesterday was a rainy day and I wasn’t feeling well, so I decided to have my own Top Chef Marathon. It was wildly entertaining for me, since my roots are firmly planted in food. Love, love love food.
I grew up in the back of a kitchen of a Chinese American restaurant in a blue collar city in the midwest. My earliest memories are surrounded by images of asian cooks and waitresses from various places abroad. Once in a while there would be the token caucasian – usually in the form of a waitress or hostess. Everyone else was from the fringes of society. Of course I did not realize this as a child. It only dawned on me as an adult, when I would go home and visit from my studies at the university. That was when I realized where I came from. I came from the womb of the restaurant world and I would spend the rest of my life trying to run away from it.
Instead of growing up playing with the neighborhood kids, most of my days were made up of hanging around the kitchen, prepping food and listening to the cursing and yelling of the cooks in a mixture of English and the various asian languages I was unfamiliar with. Sometimes my cousin Sophia and I would find a cook to pick on by shooting rubber bands or by sabotaging his take-out station. But most of the time we stayed out of the way or made ourselves useful by doing whatever needed to be done. I mean, what could kids really do in the kitchen? We ate shrimp chips and fortune cookies galore. We would remove the prefabricated fortune from the cookies and insert our own crude comments. We’d walk around and kill flies, keeping count and with a running tally for the winner. On hot days we’d hang out in the walk-in fridge until we got busted and sent back to work. We watched Popeye on a small black and white television in the closet. We’d make ourselves root beer floats. Not a bad place for a kid, really.
I remember doing work as soon as I was old enough to be told what to do. Some of my earliest memories are of making wontons with my brother and cousins in the back of the kitchen with my great grandmother. When I think about it, it was a great place for a family to be together, even if it was hard.
