佐賀。。。大ショック！

佐賀市に着いて、もう二週間になった。僕はここまで頑張ったと僕が自分にも驚かされた。毎日蒸し暑いし、台風の恐れもあるし、毎日高いサスペンスに生きて いるようです。今度日本に来て、四回目になった。佐賀市に着いての最初の二、三日本当に悔しかった。到着した瞬間に、体が震え始めた。「何で田舎に配属さ れたんですか？なぜ大都会を選ばなかった？」と何回も何回も考えていた。僕は小さいころから、ずっと大都会に住んでいた。田舎に住む気も一度さえなかっ た。だから、去年JETプログラムを申し込んだ時、「田舎に住むチャンス、一生の間、このチャンスしかないじゃないか？」と僕が考えていた。

この二週間の間に、自分の姿勢を変えて来て、田舎のペースを慣れてきて、だんだん楽しくなった。まだ私の仕事についてよく分からないけど、これから頑張るから、大丈夫だと僕はそう思うようになった。

国際交流っていったいどんなことですか？僕は個のことについてよく分からなかったら、ちゃんと仕事をできるだろうか？国際交流の意味は実際に結構曖昧なので、人によってその意味は変わるかも。

College is finally over

Four long years at Stanford have finally come to an end. What do I have to show for it? A Bachelor of Arts in East Asian Studies, a couple thousand dollars in college loans, some amazing friends and a myriad of experiences—both good and bad—that have helped me mature into the person I am today. I won’t attempt to sum up who I’ve become in four years, but let’s just say that I’ve learned a lot of hard lessons about people, about myself and about God. I want to say that my four years at Stanford have been the best four years of my life, but that would be lying. My four years at college have taught me a lot about my weaknesses, my lack of discipline and my tendency to meander through things. It was at Stanford that I had to deal with the big questions in life like: Who do I want to become? What things in life are important? What does it mean to truly love someone? These questions came to the fore over time often times I’d be sitting awake in bed unable to fall asleep contemplating these questions. I really wish I could’ve finished college with all those questions answered definitively; and even though often times I appear as if I’ve arrived upon the answers to these questions, reality inevitably sets in at some point and I realize that these questions are actually quests—ones that may require a lifetime of exploration.

Back on campus

So I am back at Stanford, hurray!! That's probably how everyone expects me to respond, but the truth is, it's not all that amazing being back. I think having spent the last year abroad, experiencing the multifaceted and truly fascinating multi-cultural world has made it really difficult for me to enjoy being at Stanford. I love seeing my friends again, but it seems that I've already left Stanford a long time ago and the "good times" that I am enjoying are merely remnants of the past. Not fitting in college must be a really lonely feeling; I feel like I can relate this quarter. People need to feel like they belong to something or someone in order to feel like they have meaning and value in this world. I believe there are very few people in this world that can really be alone and not be bothered by it; it would certainly take a really strong strong will in order to fight that creeping feeling of despair.

I think my experiences in life have made me a very sensitive person; or perhaps I've always been a very sensitive person and the experiences have just made my senses even more acute. Well whatever the reason may be, I think I understand what outsiders must feel like. I feel like one myself most of the time. Feeling like the outsider is an awful feeling, it is enough to push someone to take their own life. And yet what I find really interesting is that once they find a place of belonging, people that were once outsiders, become so engrossed in their in group that they end up being the same as the people that used to exclude them. It probably isn't intentional in the sense of being a deliberate and calculated act, but it nevertheless happens. I think it is simply a weakness of being human.

Anyhow, back to the subject. Being back at Stanford is a funky feeling. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I'm coming back at the end of the year when everyone has already fallen into their routines; that's probably what is making the feeling of being out of place even stronger. Oh well I'm going to do my best to try and enjoy my last few weeks of college.

two weeks and counting...

Two weeks and counting until I return to the states. I can't say how excited I am to be back in America. Let's just say, really excited. Only one more week of German, woohoo! I had an interesting conversation over brunch today with some friends of my German roommate. I asked them how they would describe German culture and they drew a blank; one girl muttered, "What culture?" I found that a bit discouraging. The other girl said something about the family structure and how family members in Germany are more independent or something. Then somehow we got to talking about how difficult it is for boys in Germany to grow into becoming confident men. Apparently the feminist movement is really strong here and there are tons of alpha women exerting their anti-male propaganda... hehe okay that was a bit overboard, but my host mom did make a point of saying how it irritates her that there are so many German women that have this anti-male attitude. Anyhow this is one of the suggested reasons for why German boys fail to develop sufficient self confidence early on in life. Another reason has to do with the education system. In Germany students are put on a track by the time their 12 that basically determines the next 12 years of their life. Those that are recommended on the track to go to University end up at what is called gymnasium, the equivalent of a normal American HS. The other tracks do not lead to University, but some kind of vocational school or apprenticeships. Unemployment is incredibly high in Germany 10-20% depending on what region. The girl said that teachers in Germany don't praise their students for their achievements; my friend confirmed this in her own class, when she praised a student for her excellent answer, the students gave my friend a look of utter disbelief. I think that says a lot. I know personally my development as an individual and as a student has been heavily influenced by my parents and my teachers. Aside from our parents, teachers are the other primary source of direction and encouragement for many youngsters. It makes me said to think that in Germany it is normal for teachers to have no relationship at all with their students. I've always been blessed with fantastic and caring teachers. Without them I don't think I would be the person that I am today.

Just some thoughts...

Long time no... hey wait I'm almost back home !

So it's been a while since I've posted. And for the six or so of you who actually read my blog, I am sorry; I hope this little injection of Chester patented sarcasm will be enough to get you through the lonely and uneventful nights. hehehe. Okay so life has been pretty uneventful here. I got back and was thoroughly whipped with work. I've just caught up this week and have been hit again with another German whammy. It'll be over soon though, and home is looking sweeter than ever. So having been here for a few weeks, I've been contemplating the question--pretty much ever time I have open my German textbook--of whether coming to Germany was a good idea. I don't want to say no, because saying no means that I had made a poor choice and then my parents would have been right and you all know how much kids hate it when their parents are right; well, I'm that kid--times ten. I came to Germany on a whim, mostly because I wanted to stay away from Stanford as long as I could and partly because the Stanford in Berlin program offered me the chance to go to the Berlin Film Festival. Well the festival was amazing and from that standpoint it was worth coming to Germany. But, unfortunately my emotional highs and lows eventually fade from my memory and I am left with the present and the reality that is in the here and now. The here and now for the last three weeks since the festival has been my beloved *cough* German class. I am being really sarcastic, I know, but fear not this post has a happy ending.

I decided to come to Berlin because one of my closest friends is here and because I wanted to place myself in a new environment. I told myself, "Self, you always say how much you like learning languages and new cultures and meeting new people, so why don't you take it a step further and go to a place that you would never go to otherwise. "My self reciprocated with a yes and that's how I ended up here. Having been here for over two months now, I must admit, I don't particularly care for Germany or German culture. I don't know if it is because I've reached my critical limit in cultural interest or what, but the truth is, I just don't care to be here or learn about German culture. I know this is harsh, but this is my blog and I feel the need to be honest. I also came to Germany thinking I wanted to feel what it was like being an ethnic minority, as if living in America wasn't enough to experience that. What I've come to realize is that, at least in Berlin, it is very different than in my beloved USA. *Important to note- so I am from NYC and NYC is a very particular place with one of the most diverse populations in the world; my comparison is not fair because my point of reference is not on the same level. I have been subject to discrimination on the streets, random, scary, Neo-Nazi resembling Germans on the street have given me dirty looks and howled at me; when I get on the train I am often the only colored person in my car. I never thought this would bother me, but on a subconscious level I think it does; because if it didn't I don't think I would think about it as much. To be fair most Germans are not like that and in no way am I saying that Germans are racially prejudiced, rather what I am saying is that Berlin, despite being one of the most ethnically diverse cities in Germany, is still predominantly white; this may be the case in NYC as well, I'm not actually sure, but I certainly don't feel that way. It might also have something to do with not speaking the language, but for what it's worth these are my thoughts and observations.

Now moving onto a happier topic... I think my time in Germany has been worth the money and the hours studying a language I probably will never use primarily because by coming here I have had the fortune of meeting my host mother, Dagmar. I could probably right a small volume on the impact that she has had on me in the last two months, but let's suffice it to say that though I've known her only for a few weeks, I love her like my own mother. She has taken care of me when I have been sick, encouraged me every time I feel down and worthless, and she has smiled and given me one of her great "hurrays" every time I've come home with good news. I feel like I used to in elementary school coming home anxious to tell my parents any good news I might have received just so I could see their approving smiles. It's like that, but better because I'm older and I can really appreciate it. Dagmar and I have this deep spiritual connection; despite having differing faith backgrounds, Muslim and Christian respectively. We are able to connect very deeply in our faith in a single and all powerful, all merciful and all loving God. It is a connection that has proved to be somewhat of a revelation to me in that our relationship has shown me concretely what is possible between people when mutual love and respect are the cornerstones of the relationship. The other day she said to me that you really know when you are comfortable with someone when you can stand complete silence for prolonged periods of time when in each other's presence. I thought about it and I nodded my head in agreement. I never feel like I have to speak in order to drown out the silence; every moment is precious be it in conversation or just in being.

I really could go on for pages about the things I've learned and the things that I will probably continue to learn after I leave Germany and reflect on my time with Dagmar, but I won't inundate you with my sentimental ruminations. A little bit at a time, that's what Dagmar always tells me. She should know, after all, she's 40 years older than me. A wise woman she is, a wise and beautiful woman.

Short trip home

I am in NYC, came home this Monday for my JET interview, which is a program organized by the Japanese government to attract English Teachers from English Speaking nations around the world to teach English in Japan. I interviewed for a International Relations Coordinator Position, I think it went well. I came home and found that our house was remodeled with a new wall put up right in the middle of our living room, it was a really strange sight, but cool. It feels strange to walk into a house that you've lived in for over twenty years and to find that it suddenly looks like its grown, like a person would. Anyhow I am enjoying my time home, I'll be returning to Germany at the end of the week and I will have a lot of work to catch up on.

The Berlin Film Festival just finished on Sunday and I must say that it has made my Berlin experience. I am still very much sleep deprived being that I woke up at 5:30 every morning and went to sleep around 12:30 every night; but it was definitely worth it. The experience reignited my passion for film making. I was pretty amazed that I could watch 4-5 movies back to back and not feel bored or tired; I thrive on imaginative worlds and alternative realities, I realize that I’ve always been this way. I’ve tried to reject this part of me since coming to Stanford, but in the end I don’t think it makes much sense to do so. The desire was to try and be more like other people, to fit in and to want the things that everyone else wants, namely, power, money, and prestige. Sure those things are interesting and somewhat attractive, but if I had it my way, I’d live in my own dream realities of my choosing 90% of the time and only have to deal with the world 10% of the time. I see film making as my attempt to bridge the two, and I see that as a necessity because I am after all living in this world and I don’t want to pull myself out of it completely.

Armin

Armin- Bosnian, Croatian, and German production.
Directed by Ognjen Svilicic.

Armin is an international production between Bosnia, Germany and Croatia about a father and son’s journey from their small village in Bosnia to Zagreb, the capital Croatia, in an attempt to secure a part in a film. This seemingly simple plot turns out to yield a depth of emotions that extends into the realm of national consciousness and identity.

Upon arriving in the capital, Armin begins to feel at the same time overwhelmed and intrigued by the landscape of the city. His father in all his optimism offers to spend far more than he can afford in order to make their stay in the capital feel even more grand and special. There first night in Zagreb and the two end up in a McDonalds; the father is stunned by the cleanliness of the restaurant and compares it to a hospital.

Like most father-son movies that involve a team effort to achieve some goal, Armin’s father is exceedingly proactive in promoting his son and ensuring his success at the audition. He buys a round of whiskey for the people working on the film in the hotel’s bar despite coming from a modest village in Bosnia. He even spends a few evenings with a German man working on the film drinking and chatting despite their inability to speak the same language.

The son, throughout their stay in the capital, acts as the voice of reason constantly reminding the father that they are not wealthy and that they do not need to prove themselves to be otherwise in the capital. However, there is a part of him that wants to succeed and that part comes out of him when he begins to practice his lines for the audition. On the day of he ends up waiting and waiting and is eventually told that he looks too old for the part. Upon hearing this, his father barges his way through to ask them to reconsider; he is finally able to convince them to hear his son showcase his accordion playing skills. All seems well and good until the son suddenly freezes and drops to the floor in the middle of singing and playing a Bosnian folk song. The sickness seems to add only insult to injury; all their hopes are dashed. The following day, the director calls the father and son back in as they are about to leave the hotel; he asks them if they would be willing to share the story of his son’s sickness in a documentary about the war in Bosnia. The son immediately rejects the idea despite the promise of money; the father asks his son to step outside and briefly reconsiders. In the end he says that everything up until now has been fair and square and that he would like to leave it at that. He says goodbye and with his son returns home.

This movie reminded me a great deal of Chen Kaige’s movie Together with You. Both movies center on the relationship between a father and son and the pursuit of a better life through stardom. However, in the end both movies leave the audience with a pleasantly warm feeling upon seeing a bond between father and son that is founded on mutual love and a desire to be together in truth and sincerity rather than focused on the pursuit of success. Armin is especially moving and poignant because the father and son are very much defined by their humble home in Bosnia; they are not big city people and they do not have money nor the type of personality that would put money before human relationship. Armin strikes a chord with that part of human nature that desires, above all else, anything that is truly human and warm and the audience is fortunate enough to experience this through father and son.

Pas Douce - Passing Shot

French film directed by Jeanne Waltz.

Passing Shot is a surprisingly complex emotional drama of a woman who, in a failed attempt to kill herself, ends up shooting an innocent teenage boy. The protagonist, Frederique, in an ironic twist of fate ends up having to nurse the boy back to health at her hospital. As the movie progresses, the reluctant and enraged boy begins to develop a soft spot for Frederique; the sentiment is reciprocated by Frederique as she gradually overcomes her inability to be near the boy without fainting.

What made this movie particularly engaging for me was the psychological complexity of the characters. Frederique is a nurse who is eerily unafraid of the dead; she also happens to be a champion marksman. From the beginning of the movie she is portrayed as a character that is emotionally distant. She has a broken relationship with her father, the person who taught her how to shoot; and her boyfriend tells her that he has found another woman, which is what prompts her to attempt to take her own life. The audience never really gets a complete picture of her emotional state before she shoots Marco, but we do get a sense of how her relationship with Marco brings her to the point where she willingly admits to the police that she was the shooter.

Marco is an emotionally sensitive teenager whose mother moved from France to Portugal to start a career of her own; when she finds out about her son’s condition, she rushes back to be by his side. However, Marco outwardly rejects his mother’s love and affection. He lashes out at Frederique and all the other nurses that attempt to take care of him. Despite his attempts, Frederique eventually manages to get through to him and earn his trust and affection.

The plot seems extremely staged in the sense that the same woman who randomly shoots a boy in the forest ends up being the nurse that has to take care of him. However, the strength of the movie lies primarily on a relationship that is borne out of seemingly unrealistic chain of events. The uncertainty as to whether or not Frederique’s secret will be found out becomes the driving force of the plot. This uncertainty is what gives depth to her relationship with Marco. Throughout the movie the audience is wondering to what degree Frederique’s guilt influences her relationship with the boy Marco.

The movie has a number of exceptionally well acted scenes. One scene that I found particularly moving was the scene right before Frederique goes to confess to her crime. Marco has already found out about her secret and angrily tells her to get out of his room as soon as she tries to enter. She walks over to his bed, with Marco in bed and his friend by his side, and begins to apologize and explain her actions. At the moment when Frederique says that she was attempting to shoot herself, Marco’s face changes from one of anger to one of compassion. Tears fall from her eyes as she realizes it was her luck that Marco took the bullet instead of her, because she did not want to die. At that point she goes to leave and Marco tells her that no one is forcing her to confess. She acknowledges that and she walks over to hold his hand; the moment seems to last forever and it is in that moment that we understand that Marco has forgiven Frederique and that she has accepted.

Berlinale - Film Festival Day One and Two

Today was the second day of the film festival. Yesterday I watched four movies and today I watched three for a total of seven. I was going to try and watch five today, but then I realized that I have to get up at six in order to get tickets for Sunday. The Film Festival is overwhelming. There are movies playing in like fifteen different theaters at any given time. On top of that, the films tend to be of different lengths so that sometimes I'll have no time to get from one film to the next, while at other times I'll have anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. All the films that I've watched have been pretty good, aside from these two documentaries that I watched, one about this artist Nikki Lee and the other one about this amusement park/carnival in Vienna called Prater. I think documentaries are tough to watch if you aren't really interested in the subject matter, whereas a narrative film usually follows a set pattern that the audience is familiar with. So far I've been staying away from the big Hollywood blockbuster's and have been focusing mainly on International films that I wouldn't be able to see back in the States. Anyhow, I'll keep this blog posted on the movies that I watch and try to provide reviews of some of them.

On a side note, it has been snowing these last couple of days; as a result, Berlin has been incredibly beautiful, kind of like a winter wonderland.