finding potential

Today was an above average, average day. I studied a bit through the day, worked a little on my sketchbook, tried to finalise a few ideas, ate food at the appropriate times, chilled out for a bit and then headed for the customary evening jog.

I had hoped to up my amount to five laps this week, aiming for at least ten by the time I leave Taiwan, but I didn't. I managed three in the first week, got up to four in the second, so was a bit surprised that I didn't do five this week.
It obviously wasn't meant to be, but I refuse to be put off by it. I will go on. Fuelled by the fact that I managed over seven laps today. I couldn't believe it. Maybe it's cos it was raining or something, I don't know, but to say I was chuffed would be an under statement. That amounts to almost 3km (which may not be that far, but for me, is pretty cool.)
I read a quote in a friend's blog today that got me thinking:
"Our potentials are limited by comfort zones that we all find ourselves in."
It's so easy to fall into that trap. I certainly do more often than I'd like to admit. But somehow, by pushing myself to try new things in one area of my life, it has had a knock-on effect on others.
Early Wednesday morning I'm heading out to interview some betelnut girls, and I'm a little scared. It would be far easier not to, but I really want to find out more about them. They fascinate me. Perhaps that says more about me than them, but I don't care, I want to know more. The sit in these glass boxes, using the idea of sex as a marketing tool, but not actually sex itself. I want to know who they are; what drives them; where did they come from; what's they're favourite colour? That glass box is so transparent that it creates the best disguise of all. Who would question what is plainly in sight? I'm convinced that there is more to be found than meets the eye.
In normal circumstances I'm not sure I'd have the guts (or perhaps gumption) to find out, but there's something about being in a new environment that really punctuates your sense of identity. I know who I am. It's not that I didn't back in Scotland, but being here just made me realise that I do. If you're not you, then who are you? With nobody else to rely on, if you want something done you've just got to do it.

I will most definitely be taking a trip out of my comfort zone, but I'm sure it'll be worth it.

strange but true

This is the place where average looking guys can come and marry stunning girls, have beautiful (very well behaved) kids, and get fat and hairy. Seriously, 95% of all westerners I've seen here, fit into that category. (Look like the guy, and marry the girl in the photo.) It's a little scary.

Today, I went to church in Taipei with some Korean friends. I can't believe what a difference there has been in our relationships since we cleared the air. They still keep trying to protect me, but it's nowhere near as frequent or obtrusive, and is always followed by a look of, 'but only if it's okay.' We've come to a good compromise and as a result are a lot less formal. Apart from anything else, I can just be myself without fear of insulting anyone (although I think they struggle with how to take me sometimes.)

I think it might be Taiwan rubbing off on us a little. The place where extremes meet and coexist relatively peacefully. Old and new, chaos and serenity, organisation and creativity, etc, etc. Oxymorons everywhere.

The power plays are fascinating. (this is all just from my perspective, filled with generalisations, so don't take it as fact) Women are the lesser sex here. It's not blatantly obvious, but it is an inherent part of the culture. However, the women are by far the more educated and perfectly capable of getting on on their own, but they don't want to, or think that they can. This feeds back into the males thinking themselves as gifts to they're partners. But they are not the ones in charge (whether they realise it or not.) The women here in general have this deep set distrust of their men, stemming from the historical infidelity of men in Taiwan (including the founder himself.) So they must know when, where, why, who and what they are up to, all the time. It's fascinating to see. On the train to Taipei yesterday (an experience I tend to try and avoid due to large amounts of people apparently set on having a staring contest with me) there were couples everywhere. Guys holding onto the poles, or roof dangly things, and the girls holding onto the guys. But the it was the funniest thing. Girls don't carry handbags. Their boyfriends carry them for them. One girl seemed particularly displeased with how her bag and man looked together so kept repositioning the angle till she was happy. I'm just going on personal experience here, but if I had ever done that to any of the guys I've dated, I think I could have guaranteed the relationship would have ended about two seconds after a look of serious disgust.

It's such a complex culture, but at the same time, not. I love it.

new stuff

Today was the day I had planned to go interview some betelnut girls. My guy had chickened out but had roped another guy into coming along to help. We had planned to meet up today in Taipei, but I was a bit hazy on whether we were gonna go see the girls or no. For the sake of 'always be prepared' I took out an audio recorder yesterday, which, a friend I was with, automatically stuck in his bag for safe keeping. I didn't mind, but turned out I should have. Turns out he's more forgetful than I am so when we parted ways I was left with no recorder and no way to contact him (he also forgot about the water-proof cameras I had bought for an up and coming trip, which, he stuck his shopping bag this time and then left on the bus.) Lesson of the day: consider carefully before giving in to chivalry.

Ironically when I got there, he was ready to go, but I wasn't. I still had a great day though.

The driving here is nuts. Like, mental. There are mopeds everywhere, with drivers that seem to think they're invincible (although about fifty percent go around with bandages on their knees/ face/ arms.) I knew it was unavoidable since nobody my age has a car and it's the best way to get to some places, and today was my day. I donned a ridiculous lookin red helmet (so as to coordinate with my outfit) and clung on for dear life. I seemed to be the only moped passenger who wasn't holding onto the back of the bike, but there was no way I was letting go any time soon, as we sped along (actually we were going slower than most, but I wasn't used to it) mascara inevitably running down the side of my face exposed to wind, while getting heaps of stares from people. (You don't see westerners on mopeds so two was just too much to take in.) After seeing most of my life flash before my eyes (although admittedly it was kinda fun) we got to Elephant Mountain. It was so beautiful. The climb up was disorientatingly steep, and in the humidity, was hard going, but it was worth it. There were a lot of clouds over the city so you couldn't see for miles, but you could see enough to appreciate it. I love mountains. There's something to be said about being at the top of one, looking over everything below. It's a similar feeling to the one you get while at the sea, looking out to the horizon. It's like you get your bearings, a bit of perspective how cool the world is.

Later on, after I got back to Ming Chuan, I went for my evening jog, and everything was really peaceful. I got back around 45mins before curfew so had to go straight out if I didn't want to get locked out. There were only four or five other joggers (along with the usual menagerie of couples making out on the stadium type seating) and it was just really nice. It was such a relaxing end to a day that didn't go as planned.

mystery solved

Where are all the fourth floors?
This question has been lingering ever since my parents were here. Every hotel we were in had no fourth floor, or any rooms with the number four in it. Why?
The best answer I could get for the inexplicable amnesty on the poor number was superstition. But there had to be more to it than that surely. And then today, someone finally told me.
Turns out the word for four in Chinese (s) is the same as that for death. Add that to a very superstitious culture and vlwala, no fourth floor. This is where the dead live, so in hospitals they figured they may as well but the morgue on the fourth floor since everyone's dead already.
Other than collecting more useless knowledge I went on what is starting to seem like a never ending search for a video camera. They have ones you can loan out, but you can't book them in advance and there's no time limit on how long you take one out, so people just don't return them. I'm starting to wonder if they really exist.
Maybe they got lost on the fourth floor.

Thursday26thApril07

Today I made it into the university newspaper. (see photo, slightly to the right of the guy second in from the right, between two posts...) All the exchange students got a de-briefing on mid-term procedures (next week is official exam week) and afterwards some of the Korean guys started going on about how myself and this other American guy were on the front page of the 'Ming Chuan Weekly.' A feeling of dread suddenly gripped me. The only photo I could think of had been taken during welcome lunch for exchange students, my hair was still wet from the shower and it had been taken at a slightly unflattering angle so you could pretty much see down my top. Not good. I rushed to find one, surely they couldn't have used that one. Thankfully they hadn't, although the guys thought it was worth it for the look of horror on my face and when it turned out to be them, proceeded to sign the picture and present it to me.
Later, after another dud 'find a phone' trip I headed to the fruit market. I had finally tasted the bizarre dragon fruit and it was good. So decided to get some. Later when I got around to preparing it, I found it a little comical. This fruit does not look appetising, if anything it looks like it should be poisonous with its crazy vibrant pink and green spikes. But then you cut of the top and the inside is filled with this pale, white, soft flesh, similar in consistency to that of a melon, and these tasty little black soft seedlet things. It is good. Unlike the outside, the taste is soft, pleasant and juicy. I guess it really goes to prove that you can't judge a book by its cover. And you shouldn't be afraid to try something new (even if in this case, you think it might kill you.)

little world

I managed to get a space to review a selection of the images I've taken - the ones that seemed the most relevant at first glance so brutally narrowed down to about 150. Essentially together they are an experiential catalogue, but I think they're more than that. Having had the chance to see them I've noticed patterns that, probably, reflect my thinking at the time. For example, particularly near the beginning of my time here there are a lot of straight lines and geometric shapes and compositions (perhaps trying to make logical sense of things, making the unfamiliar somehow familiar.) The more used to things I get, the more confident, so later there are more obvious photos of people, as opposed to ones taken from far away, or a roof or something. I've also noticed a lot of pairs of photos, ones near the beginning connecting with ones closer to now (although that may just be a coincidence.) And there are circles everywhere, which I can't decide whether to ignore and put down to culture, or revel in a little. There are also ones which highlight my perception of the juxtapositions going on here, although I'm not quite happy with them yet, I think they need a little more of something.
There are definitely threads through them all that tell my story here so far (whether metaphorically, or literally) but there's still so much left to tell.
Now that I've had a chance to look at them all, I'm starting to get an idea of where to go next. I need to be less literal, more confident, and more aware of composition, but at the same time, not tied down by them. I'm becoming increasingly interested on the effects of shadows on composition too, especially since they only exist here with any significance for short periods of time. Is it true what the photographer Josef Sudek said “all mystery lies in the shadow areas... expose for the shadows, the rest will come by itself.” I've been pondering over this fascinating notion for the past six weeks, and have come to the conclusion that if this is true, there is something I have been missing out on. The idea of exploring shadows with a digital camera seems somehow disrespectful, but since I wont see my film experiments with this for a while, I might just have to risk it.

necessary evils

Today I felt like I was in the twilight zone or something, and it had nothing to do with the hoards of moths that out of nowhere seemed to be plaguing the streets on mass last night. (It was raining heavily through the night and so this morning the roof was covered in little pools, filled with delicate moths wings.)

No, today was the first day of my midterm exams. Given that I haven't had an exam type exam in three years, it was a bit of a bizarre novelty. Exams, however, have never been one of my strong points, I either do really shockingly or amazingly, and it has no logical correlation with the amount of studying I do (the best results in my highers were in exams I never studied for, and the ones I should have done well at, I crashed and burned.) I wasn't looking forward to them as I had no idea what to expect, not even how much weighting different questions were given. So, I headed to the first one (I had two back to back) sat down in the funny old school style chair/desk things and just did it. It felt exactly like being back in primary school. Very strange.

The jog tonight was pretty hard going (combination of heavy rain and post-exam tiredness) but it felt great to unwind, and to do something other than think.

"trust yourself a little more"

Today I decided to be braver. I also realised that I'm a bit of a hypocrite.

I have a lot of friends here who's first language is not English, some who are really scared to make a mistake. I'm always saying not to apologise, and that it doesn't matter if you make mistakes, at least you're trying. But, now it's my turn, and it is not easy. I got into a taxi the other day with a friend (she looks Asian but can't speak Chinese) and the guy starts yapping away about something or other so I plucked up the courage and said in Chinese 'my Chinese is not good.' I later realised what I'd actually said was 'I is Chinese not good' but that's not the point, the guy understood me. I got such a confidence boost and realised that I learn the theory, but if I don't put it into practice then it'll never stick. But man that's easier said than done.

It's the same with art. I know that I know what I should be doing, and how to go about doing it, but until I step up and acknowledge that, I'll only ever be average at best.

It may have taken a little longer than it should have (and a trip to the other side of the world) to figure it out, but now that I have, I have no excuse. It wont be easy but it must be done. I've just got to go for it, jump out of the proverbial tree and hope for all hopes that I don't hit the concrete.

day of rest

Today I went to the Korean church again. I really love it there. Even though I have no clue what they're saying for the most part there's just something really peaceful about it. Or that was, until lunch.

There was a Korean / Taiwanese couple sitting next me and I noticed they were conversing in a mixture of English and Chinese, so joined in. It was hot today, like really hot. Once the sun went down it was 28oC and the humidity was a bit mental, so it came up in conversation. The guy very matter of factly started to comment on how unusual it is to be this hot and humid so early in the year, and how people from Korea struggle with it, so in a few weeks time I will barely last 10mins outside. Talk about an encouraging comment! I guess Mr Al Gore maybe had a point.

Today was also my day of rest. Rest from the jogging regime. Although, it's a little more than that. My jogging buddy and I realised that during our warm up walks we inevitably ended up discussing stuff and people that we were, or were planning to, pray for. So we made a discussion to amalgamate the two and pray for something specific for each lap that we run. (Not the easiest thing ever, but helps to focus on something other than the fact you're pyoggled.) But my day of rest took a rather unexpected turn.

[A little background context first: despite my age, in my life I have seen and done things through God that most people (including myself sometimes) would struggle to get their heads around. My relationship with Him has certainly never been what you could call boring. I've always know that I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of who He is, and that there is a lot more in store for me that I can't even begin to imagine. But while I've been at uni, despite a few mind blowing moments, it has been a time to rest and to learn.]

Before I came here, I was pretty sure, and had been told by several people who had been praying for me, that I was going to be shown a whole new bunch of things, and have a bit of a paradigm shift while in Taiwan. It wouldn't easy, but it would so be worth it. Anyway, until now I've met a few amazing people, but had kinda forgotten about it. That was, until today.

After church I went for coffee with a friend. She is one of the truly amazing people I have met here. One of those people that you just connect with straight off. While talking today, she challenged me and confirmed almost word for word what I had been told before I came here. She also opened up a few doors for me here that I really didn't see coming, and will have to seriously pray about first before making any move on. I should have known better than to forget about it, but I'm certainly making up for it now.

I have a feeling that this will not be the last of the unexpected happenings here. Or at least I hope not.

progress

I am so frustrated!

So, I wake up this morning and notice that I my left elbow is a little itchy. A few seconds later, so is my right hand, left wrist, stomach, in fact, just about everywhere in the arm and waist area. It was a mass attack. I had no warning, and my enemy was ruthless! Apparently one of those crafty little critters of the mosquito variety found his way into my room last night, mercilessly attacking me. I'm still getting over the last attack so now I'm starting to look like I have chicken pox. I got insect repellent, but the only thing it repels is me. It has some weird all natural smell. At this point, I couldn't care less what it's made of. I want something that will kill or at least seriously maim on contact, making the guile wee beasts pay for even thinking about sucking on my skin. It's driving me mad!

I digress. I've been jogging with a friend every night this week (it helps to distract from the mosquitoes) and it is not easy. I'm not a natural runner and certainly don't do it for fun, but it is so worth it for the after effect. You gotta love those endorphins. It's a thought to go out there, especially in this humidity, but man you feel good afterwards. It's so good just to wind down and chill out at the end of the day.

So, after a week of slogging away, keeping up the set routine, tonight I managed to comfortably add another lap to my distance. I was so happy. It may not be earth shattering news but it felt so great to see even a little improvement in such a short space of time.

And then something even better happened. One of those amazing little serendipitous moments that leave a feeling of complete bliss. I headed to the shower when I got in and who should join me, but my illustrious little flying friend. I'm not sure what came over me. Maybe it was a combination of factors; recent frequent use of chop-sticks; a focussed boost of energy from my victory; adverse physiological effect of the insect repellent fumes; or watching Karate Kid movies in my pre-teen years. Who knows. But in a split second I reached out and squished the little rogue between my thumb and index finger.

I'm not usually an advocate of revenge, but I must admit, it sure did taste sweet.

Friday20thApril07

After some careful consideration I decided to go ahead with the idea of interviewing betel nut girls. However, the hardest part perhaps was finding someone who would be willing to translate for me. I want to have the questions written so as to make them feel more comfortable, but obviously I can't just walk up to them and hand them a sheet of paper. It also had to be a guy due to safety issues. They work at night mostly to attract truckers etc, and they aren't based in the safest parts of town to be wondering around in. I really didn't want to ask any of the local guys I know cos due to time restraints I was gona have to be fairly forward and direct, neither of which I think would be taken the right way. Either they would think I was hitting on them or attacking they'd feel threatened. I'm still dealing with a couple of cultural misunderstandings (due to some overly friendly guys) so wasn't about to purposefully put myself into that situation any time soon. But then I had a small stoke of inspiration. It was a long shot but worth the risk.

I went out for dinner with some friends a few weekends ago and a friend introduced me to this guy she works with. As it turned out, he went to art school in America and studied some kind of animation, had good taste in films, and a healthy appetite for art history, and speaks Chinese. He could be very useful (and, I was fairly certain, professional enough not to presume that when a girl asks for a favour after meeting you once, it's not because she wants to jump into bed with you.) I managed to get hold of his email address and sent him my proposal with little optimism of getting anything positive back (I didn't see the point in faffing about so it was very forward.)

But lo and behold, there was an email accepting my proposal waiting for me when I got up today. I think his exact phrase was 'I would love to talk to scantily-clad hot chicks for art.'

Perhaps not so professional after all. But I don't care, I found a translator.

Thursday19thApril07

While speaking to some friends today in class, I couldn't help but notice their distance from the conversation. They seemed somewhat preoccupied. Something was bothering them, and it wasn't our sociology class (which is generally pretty interesting.) It wasn't what I had expected. 'Did you hear?' they asked. I was a little confused and wondered what I'd missed. Turned out they were referring to the shooting in America. They seemed really upset about it, I mean I wasn't exactly happy about it, but they seemed to be taking it personally. The word the used to describe how they felt about the event was 'dishonour.' They felt ashamed at what the guy had done, and afraid of the potential affect on the world view of Koreans. I have to say, we might have a differences sometimes but they seriously are some of the kindest most genuine people I've ever met, so I hadn't even thought about that. How could anyone paint them with the same brush? I couldn't believe the effect the actions of this one guy was having no people who weren't even remotely connected to them other than by country.

Coincidentally, this was the same day I had just listened to a podcast about peaceful protesting, and people who, when faced with two options: fight or surrender, found a third option.

Sometimes people forget that there is always another option. Even the option to find the good in a situation where all you can see is bad. I don't know how, and it tends to require a great deal of creativity and effort, but I know there's always a choice.

a little triumph

Today I gave my first presentation in Mandarin Chinese. My roommate left to catch a flight at five this morning, so I wasn't exactly what you could call awake for the most part, but I did it. Mandarin has to be one of the hardest languages ever. The grammar is pretty logical (although I haven't figured out how yet) and some of the words make sense (like the word for cat almost sounds like meow) but there are four different tones that give completely different meanings to the same word. I think tones went out the window in the presentation (which was about me, where I live etc) so I pretty much got the 'well at least she tried,' look afterwards, but you know what, I was proud of myself. I find languages really hard to pick up and even harder to remember but somehow I managed to talk for almost five minutes (well, read but that's pretty hard too since it's phonetically very different from English) without giving up. It was shocking but it gave me a little hope. The most exciting thing is when you're in a public place and you suddenly recognise a word or phrase in someone's sentence and you feel like turning to any random that happens to be in the vicinity and being like, 'did you hear that?! They just said they 'don't have' something or other!' It's a small step, but at least it's a step. Thankfully there are no midterms for my mandarin class. Or at least I hope not.

a new friend

Today I met an inspirational ant.

With prospect of midterms next week everyone is in study mode, so I followed suit and got down to some reading. I was lying on the floor in the hopes of escaping some of the heat when I saw a little ant come crawling towards me. I prepared my aim, ready to squash it when I realised that it was in distress. Ants (don't quote me on this, I'm not sure if my memory serves correctly in this area) are really bad at directions. They plan out a path, and follow that path repeatedly going back and forth along the exact same line collecting supplies. If something breaks the line of the path, they freak out, scuttling all over the place with a desperate lack of direction. My ant, apparently had been interrupted by me. I watched it as it walked a perfect circle, about the size of a 2pence piece, over, and over, and over, apparently oblivious to the repetition. I felt so sorry for the wee fellow. (I still squished it, we can't have ants.) But it made me wonder. How often do I do that? Something will get in my way, and instead of stopping to take bearings, or asking for directions, I'll just rush round in circles like a mad person, rehashing old paths (that didn't work the first time round, so doubtless won't this time.) Thankfully, I'm not an ant, so nobody is going to squish me before I realise I'm a plonker.

But at the same time, I was reading over some old thoughts, and realised that sometimes you do have to reflect a little before you can move forward. (Oh what a confusion, but you gotta live the great big oxymoron that is life.)

So this evening, while under the influence of a rouge piece of crazed motivation, I popped outside to run (well... maybe walk/jog with determination) round in circles taking time to stop and reflect before deciding which direction to go in. I made two discoveries: one – humidity plus exercise equals undefinable levels of face redness that I had not known to be possible, and two it's so much easier to think productively after a little preparation.

my tipex just exploded

I got an email from a tutor in Scotland today and in it was this great quote that really got me thinking: “But equally, such things should not be locked away, or covered up for protection, for that, is denying the world what they have to offer...”

Naturally I was intrigued as to whom had said this. I liked this much, maybe there was more to be learned from this person. My answer came. It was me. I could not for the life of me remember writing this. I checked old proposals, emails, old blog entries, nothing. It had to be a hoax (I hoped.) Then I found it, a blog post barely a few days old. Oh dear. I have to say I felt like a bit of an ass, but I don't think I've laughed so hard in quite some time. I obviously pay a lot less attention to what I say than I had realised.

I also found out today that assessments at Gray's (art school in Scotland) are four weeks on friday. Needless to say, it took me surprise, although given it's my third year of doing this it really shouldn't have. Working here is pretty hard. When I work usually I like to take all my photos etc and spread them out on the floor or walls either in the studio or flat (generally staying there for a while) but here there is no wall or floor space to work with, and I definitely don't have a studio. Everything is electronic in format which brings a completely different perspective to working methods. I have a lot of photos and ideas but it's all raw. How do you go about refining things when you can only see a little bit of the big picture?

One particular idea I had was to photograph and interview some of the Betel Nut Girls here. The girls sit in glass glass boxes illuminated by neon lights selling betel nut, cigarettes etc. They're scantily clad using the illusion of sex to tempt customers. Betel nut is this highly addictive nut that grows on palm trees locally. It's chewed and the juice is spit out at regular intervals, leaving bright red splatters on the street which is just gross. But the girls are fascinating. They look like dolls or something preserved in glass boxes, often taking inspiration from animé for their clothing, but what they do doesn't reflect the innocence of dolls. I would have had to get a translator and a guy to go with me since the effect is most stunning at night, but I was quite looking forward to it. Unfortunately it turns out that someone already did something very similar. Granted, the artist was an older white South-African guy who was mainly looking at the business side of things, but I'm not sure how if it would be the right thing to do now. My take on things would have been different to his, and I expect the girls themselves would show a slightly different attitude to me than him, resulting in a different final body of work, but would it might still smell of ripping someone off a bit.

I guess I'll just have to get on with some other ideas (although this was one of the main ones I was following through.) They are really fascinating.

Sunday15thApril07

I went to church today and have been pondering over it ever since. I couldn't figure out what it was that made me so sad to be there. The people I go with are phenomenal, down to earth, real people. And the rest of the people in the church are lovely too. But the whole time the pastor guy was preaching I found myself trying to figure out why every so often something he said would completely not sit with me.

I thought maybe it was a culture class, but despite the occasional un-pc comment about women, that wasn't it. If anything it was too western. But then I realised what it was.

The guy's heart was in the right place, but he was trying so hard that they were completely missing the boat. They had gotten so caught up in traditions that they were missing the beauty of who God is. The traditions they were going on were old school British style, you must be a 'member' to pray, or in fact contribute to the service in any way, you must read the old King James (which might be poetic but it's hard enough to understand it if english is your first language) etc etc. (They didn't particularly work in Britain so why would they work here.) The God that I know couldn't care less about traditions for the sake of traditions, He cares about people, all people, passionately. And he is most definitely multi-cultural. During the sermon the preacher was describing what God's heart is, what he cares about, and said that God cares about the church, therefore if you want to be a good Christian the most important thing is to be solely serving the church. Maybe it was just a bad interpretation of the Bible, but in the one I read, Jesus wanted to help everyone, yes he loves the church, but he called the church to predominantly serve the people, not themselves! It makes me so angry when I see so much suffering and hurt in the world, and the people who in theory should know what love truly is, are unwilling to show it to the people who actually need it. Don't get me wrong I wasn't angry at this church, I just felt sad and frustrated that they seemed to be missing out on so much of what God has to offer. God is so much more immense than anyone could ever imagine. He can actually do anything, and is not limited to working only in 'religious' churches. In fact, in my experience, He tends to turn up, packing some serious heat, when least expected, and generally when rules and traditions have been thrown out the window so there's nothing standing between you and Him, and that is a truly beautiful thing.

The thing is though, it made me wonder, how often do I compartmentalise God in my life, limiting what He can do? The answer scared me a little, but hopefully into spending a little more time with Him trying to figure out how to change that. Somewhere along the way I seem to have settled for mediocrity, and since when have I wanted that!

Saturday14thApril07

I was beaten up for the first time in my life today. And I have some pretty impressive bruises as souvenirs

The word massage has always been synonymous with relaxation, and since the Chinese are generally known to be the masters of massage I decided to take advantage while I'm here. Little did I know that here the word massage can pretty much be directly translated into 'systematic beating'. As I sat there, one girl punching and slapping my arm till she was satisfied with it's redness, while another was busy battering my calf, I couldn't help but wonder if I had lost my mind to put up with this. Last time I checked I wasn't a masochist In most places, you get a massage and find that you will relax as it progresses. Here, you get a massage and find that you will relax.

Later on I headed up to Danshui with a friend. It's like the Taiwanese equivalent of Blackpool (which, came as a bit of a shock since everyone had told me how beautiful and serene it was.) It may not have been the most beautiful place ever but this estuary echoes on land, the teeming fascinating life that occurs under water when salt and fresh water converge. Walking along the main promenade you experience mild sensory overload; the smell of copious varieties of food on sticks - from whole roasted squid, to teeny fried quails eggs; the multitude of noises - from megaphones beckoning in prospective punters to old men with screechy voices and screechier undefinable instruments; the throngs of people, young and old, tourist and local, all apparently mesmerised by this bizarrely enchanting place.

We decided to take a short ferry ride to the edge of the estuary where we were met by the unmistakable smell of the sea, (although it smelt distinctly warmer than the North Sea.) Here it was a lot quieter, and apparently tourists don't dare make the ferry ride here. My friend (despite the fact she's Asian) turns more than a few heads when walking down the street as she may well be one of the most beautiful women who ever existed. I, as a Scottish female, am the equivalent of the abominable snowman (whiter than white, and thought to be an urban myth in this country.) The combination meant that we became one of the tourist attractions (but for the locals.) It was a warm day with a light breeze, so we decided to hire a couple of bikes to take in the lovely harbour scenery. Turns out, females are not expected to be able to ride bikes, (or anyone over 4½ft judging by the height of the seats,) so all they had were males mountain bikes. They were cheap so we didn't complain. However, it seems that they were cheap for a reason. It transpired (while I was cycling downhill on a pathway of people) that the breaks on my bike were only a decoration, and served no purpose. I would have used the Flintstone method, but not in flip-flops. As if that wasn't enough, my back wheel decided to come loose, quickly followed by my front wheel. It was not the best bike I've ever ridden. The sun set very quickly and with it the harbour was beautifully illuminated. It may have been an interesting trip but it was worth it.

It took several hours to get home afterwards, I had judged my timing a little badly so almost got locked out, but thankfully made it with 3 mins to spare.

Friday13thApril07

Today I was invited to a special lunch that had been organised for all the exchange students at Ming Chuan University. 1 Scot, 1 American, 1 Thai and heaps of Koreans. It was pretty nice. Lots of food and a really nice welcome (even if we have been here for a month and a half already) from the dean of the International College.

I had been looking forward to my afternoon all week. A trip to Taipei to visit a friend and a chance to sample some of the night-life. I'm not a big drinker in Scotland, but I do enjoy a wee something from time to time and kinda miss the drinking culture. I don't mean alcoholic, just the social drinking thing we have going on in Scotland, whether it be for tea, coffee or wine, socialising over beverages is something I enjoy but isn't common practice here.

I wanted to check out some camera stuff first so we met up later on after she had finished work. It was pretty late before we actually got organised, but things come more alive at night here where it's common practice for shops to be open twelve till ten, instead of nine till five, so it didn't matter. We had dinner then headed to a bar near Taipei 101. It was so cool. The lighting, décor, everything was so relaxed but pretty classy, although we didn't feel out of place. I guess it's testament to the people and culture here, it's so much less judgemental and more laid back. The waitresses were all models and it's apparently one of the best places to play 'guess who's a transvestite' (it's mildly terrifying cos you seriously can't tell, the women are beautiful men, and the men are beautiful women.) Every table came with it's own set of crayons to draw on the table cloth (I may have gone a little overboard on the old doodles, restraint is not possible in some situations.)

We then left their and headed to the cinema around midnight to see 300. It was the only thing on that we both recognised but didn't no what it was about. First fifteen minutes in I was dreading a testosterone filled war movie, thankfully it happened to be a very good one with lots of beautiful... colours.

You've been warned

So, I'm on the way back to my dorms after a sociology class, which today was all about gender, sex, relationships etc., when I meet a group of friends who have decided that today is the day they must learn the english for bodily functions. Skipping out of it before the inevitable foot-in-mouth kicked in, I headed on to the dorms only to be welcomed by a 'Shangri-la' toilet sitting outside the elevator. I had a sneaking suspicion that it was going to be one of those days.

Alas, I was not to be let down.
I had just gotten back to my dorm after dinner, when I got a phone call. It was from a recent friend who is still building confidence in english so I was well impressed that he had phoned. But then, after general introductions, he said something rather unexpected; 'I have a testicle.' Obviously I put it down to a misunderstanding, so asked him to repeat; 'I have a testicle reading.' Honestly, it took all my energy not to laugh, I didn't want to hurt his feelings, and I just wasn't understanding. I figured he maybe wanted help to revise for a reading test to which he replied, 'no, testicle, festival.' At this point, I was still none the clearer, so he asked me to meet him outside. There are very few people on this earth whom, after telling me about a 'testicle, festival,' could do anything to tempt me outside at night, but this guy really isn't the type to be that crude (although apparently I am.) Turns out the poor guy, who recently broke his foot playing basketball, was just bored and wanted some company. (I'm still none the wiser as to what he had been saying.) But then came a slighlty more alarming misinterpretation. Someone asked him for his phone after which he turned to me and explained, that since he is on a date it would be rude to have a phone with him. It was a nice gesture but it was hard to acknowledge when the 'date' bomb had been dropped. Don't get me wrong, my guy friends here, are great, but I have no intentions of dating them. Turned out, to my relief, it was just a bad choice of words. But it certainly made me tread a little more carefully for the remainder of the 'date.'

We meet again

Today was one of those days where everything went better than you could have hoped for.

I had turned up an hour early for my afternoon class by accident so when I went back the second time I wasn't particularly in the mood to be there. The fact that the rain had stopped and the sun was out had nothing to do with it. After waiting for some time (lateness is standard in classes here) a girl came in and announce that our teacher had got stuck in Taipei so we were free to go.

Plans of reading on the roof had begun to make the transition from dream to reality in my head on the walk back to dorms, but somehow the idea didn't seem to quite fit the situation. No, it was time to be reunited with an old friend.

I've read quite a few interviews or biography articles about photographers and in almost every one (you can almost guarantee it) there's the cheesy line about how they have fond memories of the first photograph they took when they were two, and how suddenly, magically, they knew what they wanted to do with they're lives. It makes me cringe every time. But unfortunately I'm a little bit of a hypocrite. I don't remember my first photograph, and certainly didn't feel some intrinsic connection to life as a result of it, but I do have a slightly unhealthy relationship with one of my cameras.

Since I've gotten here I've pretty much been shooting digital, and it's great; convenient, light weight, etc. etc. But there's only so long you can take it for. It's lacking in something.

Enter, the old Canon 35mm SLR. I don't use it often but not because I don't want to. It's like a perfect film, or a fine wine, if you partake too often, you start to forget how unusual it is to find something of that quality. Even though, you promise yourself you won't, eventually you will take said thing for granted. But equally, such things should not be locked away, or covered up for protection, for that, is denying the world what they have to offer (which is even worse.)

In my experience (which, granted, is not much,) 'absence makes the heart fantasise.' But my old friend did not let me down. Out I went to wonder round campus in search of hidden treasures. I found a little something, took an uncharacteristically long time to set up the shot, apprehensively put finger to trigger, trying not to hold my breathe and pressed. There it was, that familiar sound I had been waiting for that lets you know that something exciting just happened inside the machine in your hands, tempting you to open the back to find out what, even though you know you can't. But it doesn't end there. You pull the lever and feel the film winding on, lining up raring to go for picture number two. That's when you know that you just made something worth while. Even if it doesn't turn out, it was still worth the make.

After a day of that, I defy anyone not to be feeling pretty happy and chilled out. You can love digital photography to a point, but the knowledge that you just squeezed a few million pixels together does not compare to a good old fashioned chemical reaction. That would be like comparing instant coffee to that which has been carefully brewed in a moka pot. (I do both depending on external factors, but one undoubtedly delivers a far superior all round coffee drinking experience.)

I love cleaners

I love cleaners. I don't think I say that enough, in fact, I don't think I realised just how much I love them till now. They deserve and award for services rendered.

There are no cleaners here. The repercussions of which, I just found out. It's like loosing your nose; you don't appreciate it until it's gone.

We had a room cleaning competition in the dorms where everyone had to spend the day cleaning and then were judged in the evening. For pressing reasons, my roommates and I were mysteriously called away to various undisclosed locations for the day. We were gutted to miss out in all that soapy fun. (And disturbingly came in in fifth place!)

I should have seen it coming when I saw the old fashioned washboards and stone sink in the washing room (thankfully next to the washing machines, although they specialise in chewing, stretching and shrinking depending on which day it is.) All the signs were there, but I guess I just thought we had house elves or something that cleaned up at night. We got a knock at the door. The girl who takes registration at night came in and muttered something in Chinese to my roommate who in turn looked at me in disgust. It was our turn to clean the floor this week.

I am not the worlds tidiest person. In fact, I generally avoid tidying like the plague. It's a catch twenty two situation for me, some days I can't work if my room is tidy other days it has to be. Generally I prefer organised chaos. Don't get me wrong I do hoover, wash up and stuff, but there is a big difference between that and sweeping and mopping down an entire floor. It didn't take as long as expected, but I think that's cos I was in shock for the most part. I'm sure it was all some cruel and unusual punishment for getting a manicure (which I spent most of the time trying to protect.)

Let's just say I'll be more than a little happy when our week is over, and will never take cleaners for granted again.

Be yourself

Yesterday I did something that I have avoided fervently since i got here. In fact, it's something that I avoid as a rule, not just here. But I'd had enough.

I had spent all day in Taipei yesterday with some Korean friends, and all day one of the guys kept reminding me at every opportune moment, how I should always spend my time with them and stay close to them so that they could protect me. I tried to ignore it passively but this encouraged him to go on saying to comment on how timid a personality I have, as if this would help his case. I, diplomatically, changed the conversation swiftly and tried to forget about it. I succeeded in avoiding too much contact for the most part (nevertheless, ever aware of protective glances) until it came time to catch the bus home. I endured the pushes in the right direction all through the MRT in silence (even though I had successfully negotiated them alone more than all of the group put together) but then we came to cross the road. One of the guys took me aside; 'you must always keep me in sight, right by me. You must stay with me.' I snapped. I went off on a total rant (including hand signals) about how he should never tell me what to do again, did he think i was a child, and how i first travelled to another country alone when i was sixteen, and then went back to never tell me what i should or shouldn't do etc. etc. I didn't really notice that he had stopped dead in his tracks with a look of shock on his face till i had finished. He said sorry and then inevitably i felt like an idiot. So i apologised if i had hurt his feelings, to which he smiled, completely unperturbed by the whole thing and just said (with a laugh that seemed to be more impressed than anything else) 'whatever you want is fine, it is my pleasure to help.' What a guilt tripper line.

I had been so afraid of insulting someone, or being misunderstood, that I just let it go on. If a guy in Scotland kept ordering me around I wouldn't have let it last more than a few sentences, but here I tolerated it for more than a month. The result: a verbal, volcanic eruption.

My lesson is learned. Being 'true to yourself' is for more than just your own good. The thing is, I ended up the looking bigger fool for it in the end, they seemed more pleased that I had stood up for myself than anything.

Sunday6thApril07

There was a last minute change of events for today.

Originally I had been asked to go to the english speaking church I found for Easter sunday and i had fully intended on going but a two nights ago I got a knock at my door and answered to find a good Korean friend.

Earlier in the week she had asked me to go to dinner with her, of course i agreed, we get on really well. Turned out that she was having a bit of dilemma and wanted some advice. She had been going to the Korean church for a while and really wanted to get baptised but it wasn't a simple decision. Her family practice the traditions here, praying with incense to their ancestors and she was afraid she would have to give that up. I didn't feel particularly well equipped for spiritual advice and was afraid of being misinterpreted (although her english is very good, its not excellent) or insulting her. She was determined to here my point of view though so unfortunately i wasn't going to get out of this one. It was an interesting experience purely for the fact that i became very aware of a whole pile of words that are used prolifically in church but actually have no meaning whatsoever out with. I decided there was no point in beating around the bush, there was no point in sugar coating things, i just had to tell it like it is (or at least how i see it.) I explained how becoming a christian is not about traditions, its about becoming part of a relationship, and like getting married; you only get married to one person. Also, it's most definitely not the easiest thing you'll ever do, and although it's definitely worth it, sometimes it can be the hardest thing ever, so you have to be absolutely sure before making a commitment. She seemed just as torn when we left as before, so you can imagine my surprise when she turned up and announced that she had prayed about, phoned her mum to tell her (who had given her support) and had decided to go ahead with it. I was so happy for her, and she asked me go to the service and pray for her. Obviously I agreed.

The fact that I can't understand Korean wasn't an issue this week, someone translated the whole thing for me. It was kinda like subtitles, but in your head. It turned out to be well worth understanding. We gate-crashed a Taiwanese church for the baptism part, which was a little different than I've been used to (most that I've been to were in the sea or in a bigger tank thing) and I'm not sure what the robe was for (in the photo) but essentially it was the same.

The rest of the day I spent in Taipei with my interpreter friend (snuck a wee manicure in there) yapping, and window shopping. She invited along a friend from work (who was American) and then we headed to a Japanese restaurant with the Koreans for a leaving meal for someone. It was a really great day, I had forgotten how nice it was to have a spontaneous conversation with someone. I love the people here, but you constantly have to monitor what you say, speed and clarity of voice, so it was a nice relief to let go for a while.

(It's almost time for eggs!)

It's been one of those days filled with lots of little ponderings. The kind that don't ware you down, but lighten your day, like blowing bubbles; you blow them into existence then watch them float around until they pop and melt away, or leave your field of vision.

One such pondering (a determined little bubble which outlasted its worthy companions) started on a trip to a friend's blog. [A side note on the friend: This friend and his wife are the sort of people that you meet once in a lifetime. I've known them for as long as I can remember and I don't plan on forgetting them any time soon. My relationship with them is one of those special ones that you should never take for granted, where we can be apart for years (which happens more often than I would like) but when we see each other again, it's as if it were only a day. I love them very much and I don't take that for granted.] I quite often wander over for a nosey and never fail to leave slightly happier than when I got there. Today was no exception. There were two things actually (although they're kinda connected.) Firstly, my friend, who has been on a mission to lose a lot of weight, has made it. I personally think this is something worth celebrating. Not the fact that someone has lost weight, par say, but the fact that where most people would have said, 'och, I've lived with it this long, why change now?' he decided to take a scary step and start off on the arduous journey required to reach what must have seemed like an impossible goal (losing 133lbs) and made it! (After reading that part I felt inspired to go out for the wee jog I'd spent the last few days trying to psyche myself up for (even though it was wet and cold.)) Secondly, it's Easter weekend, the weekend that is symbolic of the most important happening ever, the death and resurrection of Jesus. Admittedly, I often forget just how important it is and when it is, due to the lack of it being mark by overindulgence and gifts, but then again, the whole egg painting and rolling thing is a lot of fun. (I probably shouldn't say that, but at least I'm being honest, and don't get me wrong, I don't mean for a second that I take for granted what He did for me!) But anyway, that's kinda coincidental, just painting some context. So in one bit he talked about how he had gone to hear this preacher guy and he was talking about Peter (one of Jesus' disciples) and what he did after the crucifixion: 'the events leading up to the death of Jesus, his actual crucifixion and even all the happenings surrounding the resurrection had gotten just too much for Peter and he had decided to go back to what he knew and was comfortable with. But it didn't work.' This got me thinking; why is it that every time things get rough, we (well I do anyway) insist on going back to the past, to the stuff that we left there for a reason and didn't particularly work for us the first time round. I love reading about Peter, he was such a numpty at times, I really feel for the guy, but totally empathise with him at times too. I totally take solace in the fact that however much he messed up, (and he did it with style) nothing he did made Jesus love him any less. But it still leaves me with one question, what is it that is so scary about going forward? Surely it's better than going backwards? I have no answers. But then I guess that's the prerogative of a pondering; to promise no answers so it doesn't have to apologise when it leaves without imparting one.

Friday 6th April 07

There is a side to the whole relationship thing which I neglected to mention yesterday, but is none the less, just as, if not more, influential than yesterday's.

In Scotland I have some of the best friends you could ever ask for. The kind that regardless of what mood you're in or what new stupid thing you've done, they still love you. They're the kind that you can rely on for anything, and if the need arose and you called them in the middle of the night they would listen (well... maybe after some mumblings.) Even more importantly, you can rely on an honest answer when you're being an idiot (which, is more often than I'd like to admit.) And I love them very much, they're the best. So you can forgive me for being a little anxious about being away from them for so long. It was strange to think that I'd be a little more than an hour away from a cup of tea and a yap.

I had nothing to worry about. When I got here I was thrown into the path of a group of Koreans who more than looked out for me and befriended me. Although, I might find it overbearing at times, I couldn't help but be flattered when they explained, (after they gave me into trouble for not checking in with them for a week,) that, unknown to me, they had adopted me into they're group to look after me because they didn't want me to feel alone since I'm the only British person here. Taken aback, I felt a little ashamed for trying to escape so often, and said how sweet I thought that was, to which I got the reply (which made me laugh,) 'No! It's not sweet! Now we always worry for you!' Then there was the Taiwanese girls. In one of my classes we split into groups and I ended up in one solely comprising of Taiwanese girls. We got off to a strange start as they were shy so spoke little, and what they did, I couldn't hear. But then one day, they suddenly became comfortable and announced that they must look after me and teach me Chinese and find me a nice Chinese boyfriend. I had ended up in a group of mothers. And was starting to get a complex about why everyone wanted to look after me. Surely I don't look that helpless!? This seemed to become a similar pattern in most of my classes and then I found out why. A Taiwanese friend had questioned me about why I like to try and spend time alone here because, as she put it, relationships and being with people is important. It's more than just being with people though, it's genuinely caring for them and listening to them. Building and maintaining relationships. There's nothing fickle about it, once you start that's it for life pretty much. I love that idea. I think that in a world where things are becoming more and more disposable (including friends, lovers, and even family) it gives (sadly) a refreshing perspective on life, when you meet people who hold its connections with higher regard than you're used to.

Culture clash

It was bound to happen sooner or later but it certainly came in an unexpected form. The culture clash.

Relationships are very important in eastern culture. The building and maintaining relationships is seen as a must for all areas of life, from business to the home. This emphasis on personal connections however, has had quite an effect on the idea of 'love' for my people of my generation. In the western world there is a strong emphasis on the need for love and sex, but this is a lot more to do with companionship. (apologies for the generalisations) I tell you, the influence of these ideas at home, is nothing compared to here.

I was aware of it vaguely from the start. The first question people would ask me, 'so what's your boyfriend like?' and my answer, 'fairly translucent, you could say, non-existent,' (or something to that effect) was never believed. After the second or third try for an answer other than, 'I don't have one,' they would then try and figure out why (which I found mildly humorous) 'are the men in your country not attractive?' 'are they not nice?' etc etc, then would come the, 'oh, I know a great guy for you!' 'Chinese men very nice!' 'you must have boyfriend.' They couldn't seem to understand why I wasn't interested. (Well that's not necessarily true but it's easier to explain the 'you need to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince' theory, and I'd rather skip the frogs. I've met a lot of frogs with delusions of princehood.)

Anyway, all of this was okay until today. While walking for a coffee with a friend this evening, amid the usual barrage of questions about boyfriends came a rather unexpected statement: ' I think you must be genius or something. Girls who are 21 all have boyfriend, or spend a lot of time looking for one, they need one. You don't. We [a large group of my friends] talk about it,we don't understand. We think you must study a lot.' There it was, apparently if you're twenty one, single and a girl, you have obviously traded in 'every girls dream,' for a life of celibacy and an intellectual quest for a PHD and the Nobel prize before the age of 30. I laughed quite a lot at the thought of this allegation, which I most certainly have not done. I just want to wait and see. But my friend (who seemed to think this was a valid observation) didn't seem to quite understand why I was laughing. Hmm. But seriously, that's a lot of pressure to be under if that's really what's expected of you.

The place is deserted

Day one of my five day weekend started a little earlier than I had hoped. After much deliberation over what to do and where to go, I decided to chill out, not plan anything in particular other than reading up on some photography books, and then if somewhere takes my fancy, I'll just go. Todays itinerary, however, included a long lie in, something I haven't done in a long time... or so I thought.

I became aware that I was half awake and that the strange noise in my dream was actually coming from the real world. Half dazed, I rolled over peering over the side of my bunk to see if I could find its origin. It was light, but I was sure it wasn't time to finish sleeping. I figured (using logic that only makes sense when your in a semi-dream state) that if I concentrated hard enough on my comfy bed (it was the kind of comfy that only happens on rare occasions, generally when it's rainy outside and you have to get up uncharacteristically early, and feels like what fresh baked hand made bread smells like) and went back to sleep, I might be able to make the noise go back into the land of the unreal, therefore making it not exist in real life. Problem solved. Suddenly, I shot straight up, a penny had dropped and my body had responded quicker than my brain had managed to figure out what the penny was exactly. I had forgotten to turn off the sound on my laptop and someone was Skyping me. I rushed down the ladder to answer the call before it woke up my roommate. It was just after 5.30am. The caller(who shall remain nameless)'s excuse was that they forgot there was a time difference between Scotland and Taiwan... I'm not bitter (although if I hadn't got back to sleep again...) Other than a trip to Taoyuan for food and supplies since all restaurants and shops are closed for the holiday, the rest of the day was blissfully uneventful.

Tuesday 3rd April 07

Late yesterday evening I got a phone call. 'Hi how you doin? What you up to? Blah, blah blah... your head of school is coming tomorrow morning so you'll have a meeting, give him a tour and have lunch.' Not quite what I was expecting. It was all a little bizarre given that I'd only met the guy briefly once before for a meeting, and this time I'm in a completely different country. All in all it went well, they want to create more opportunities for exchanges so I had to give my opinion as they first person to go in this direction. It's a strange exchange. I go to classes, but they aren't the ones I'd have in Scotland and have nothing to do with art, so I do extra work out with them. It's not easy, so I figured I'd may as well be honest about that when they asked, but my final answer was that the pro's definitely outweigh the cons. Yes it's a lot of work, you have not work space and risk a fairly poor grade, but at the end of the day, the experience of living and functioning in a very different culture massively outweighs that. I mean, even if you don't want to, in that situation you're going to be influenced and learn a lot from the culture you're in, the good and the bad.

Today's lesson; always expect the unexpected.

Much ado about nothing

Isn't it strange how when you dream loads you wake up more tired than when you went to bed? I am not a good person to be around when lacking in sleep. Unfortunately I had a three hour mandarin, class first thing in the morning, that I was lucky if I learned two words during. Languages have never been my strong point but added to that is the fact that everyone else in this 'beginners' class, has had, at the least, six months teaching prior to coming here. Thankfully my teacher is lovely (and not much older than me) so noticing that I was slipping further down my seat with every new page of the text book (with no english in it), she offered me extra help after class. It was such a lovely gesture to brighten up a so far rainy day. Another two hours later I left, with a very numb bum, but feeling a bit more confident. I did learn another rather interesting cultural belief today though. Apparently, if you hold your chop-sticks near the end, you are destined to marry someone who lives far away (potentially African), but if you hold them near the food end you will marry someone who lives very close to you (geographically.) I'm apparently destined to marry someone from far away (darn it) but I think my chopstick holding has more to do with keeping my hands away from my food.

On another note, the bugs. Sneaky wee beasts. They lull you into a false sense of security, hiding away, and then one morning, after a particularly sunny day, you wake up covered in mosquito bites the size of finger nails (and a thumb.) If anyone knows Chinese for camomile lotion...

Thankfully, however, after all that learning, you can always rely on winding down with whatever toy you happen to find in your cereal box in the morning, hence the photo. Minutes of making fun all round. Nothing like the simple things in life.

Sunday1stApril - April Fools Day

Today I decided to try going to a church where I actually knew what they were saying. Some friends from Swaziland (some of the most beautiful people, inside and out, I've ever met) go to one on the way to Taoyuan so I tagged along. I have to say it was an interesting experience. I enjoyed the Korean church because it gave me space to chill out and meditate and pray for a while which I really appreciated, but this time I actually had to pay attention. The service it's self wasn't anything special and I got a bit bored, but afterwards they invited us to stay for lunch and we had a really interesting discussion with one of the leader guys. I haven't had a good healthy debate in ages so it was quite refreshing and made me think more about what I actually stand for and believe.

Later I decided to chill out in the sun with a podcast I'd been meaning to listen to for a while. It was by this guy Rob Bell who makes these amazing short films so figured he might be worth having a listen to. The guy fairly knows how to illustrate a point. It was mostly about America and how the world perceives it, but the underlying message was all about peace. Anyway, there was one bit in particular that got me thinking about something (that those who know me will probably know I'm pretty passionate about). Put very simply (and in the words of Spider Man) - 'with great power comes great responsibility.' I have this thing where I totally believe (despite what people keep telling me to the contrary) that one person can make a difference. I think we have three choices in life: 1 we can try and make a difference (however small) for good, 2 we can not bother one way or the other, or 3 we can make a difference for bad. I'm not professing for a second that I've got this figured out, (and would love your thoughts on it all.) So yeh, I can't help but think, I could have been born anywhere, into any situation, but I was born in the west, into a loving family, and have never known what it's like to 'need' something. And so isn't it only fair that I (and anyone else who was born in the west where we don't actually know the meaning of the word poverty) do what we can to help those who can't help themselves. It kinda fries my brain a little when I try and get my head around the whole thing, so I tend to try not to, and I, admittedly, don't live that out just now. However, it's something that keeps jumping back into view every so often, blurting out in a jumbled mess (as you can see,) breaking my heart for a while, and never really goes away (although most of the time I try and ignore it.)