Cross-cultural understanding

I walked into the room, and a colleague of mine was just finishing a chat with a lady I had never met before. By the way she looked and dressed, she seemed to be Chinese, and my guess was right when she introduced herself.

We began a brief conversation, which ended as briefly as it started. She began by asking whether I was Chinese. I said no, and said that I'm Taiwanese, at least by birth.

"Oh, Taiwan is a part of China."

I once again repeated what I had just said, "No, I'm Taiwanese."

And she repeated again what she said. As if repeating a fiction will make it fact.

I responded by saying... nothing.

Silence is golden, at times, and these were one of these times. I simply smiled friendlily, as the lady left the room.

There was little point in correcting her or getting embroiled in a big debate about whether Taiwan is really part of China. She can believe what she wants to, but I know I am right, and I really did not need to loose myself in a first encounter.

This yet another episode of Chinese ignorance and pride was reminiscent of an incident that a lecturer of mine once mentioned... the stir Allain Pellet caused in the International Law Commission when he decried China's "intellectual terrorism" when the Chinese delegated made a commotion about Taiwan's practice as "unilateral state practice".

What is surprising, and perhaps a little sad, is that this lady was sent by the Chinese government to "spread Chinese language and culture". It serves as part of the People's Republic's strategy to promote cross-cultural and international understanding and learning. Soft power if you will, to soften up the regime's hard image internationally. And whereas before all things remotely related to ancient thinkings and philosophers were denounced by Beijing as "decadent" , today there are numerous institutes springing up all over the world aptly (or perhaps ironically) named after perhaps the most renowned and respected Chinese philosopher.
But then again, if my experience with this lady was telling, it definitely is not what I would call promoting understanding and learning.

"I wish I were you..."

(beautiful song for the Dutchies amongst us...)

I need something or someone to inspire me.

Ohter than just chocolate.
Other than just my cat.

As much as you like buffet

I've been really eating too much lately. Two days already this week I've been eating at eat-as-much-as-you-like buffet restaurants. I'm not worried about gaining weight, and in fact I probably need some extra kilos, but to feel like your stomach is about to burst open cannot be healthy.

The food is pretty good though... the first night was Monday evening, when I went out with a friend to celebrate the fact that I successfully organised a meeting with very, very important people (VVIP!). Basically they're members of this board which supervises the Competition I'm organising. And these people are not nobody! It was a meeting I had been planning for ages, and finally on Monday it took place. It was so strange, to be sitting in a room of all these famous and important people, people I've read about in my study books and in the judgements of the international law courts. But they were there, sitting at the same table at me, and talking to, and listening to me.

Of course, I had to address them each as "Your Excellency", but they were all so down to earth and approachable. I made a summary of what I've been doing, and how the organisation of the Competition has been going, and they seemed to be pleased. Phew...

So I went out to dinner with a friend at a Korean restaurant... grilled meat and fish and shrimp, kimchi, kimchi soup, all my favourite as much as you like! I ate so much, and because the food was so spicy, I had ' stomach problems' almost immediately afterwards...

And today again, I had buffet, this time at a Japanese restaurant. I met a friend I've not seen in almost five years, and we were so glad to find each other through Facebook! So we met up, I helped her a bit because she was moving house, and after that we went to dinner. Basically, you pay a certain amount, and then you can order 8 times, each time maximum 5 things per person, and you have one and a half hours to do this! Sound complicated, but eating isn't. You have dozens of sushis, soups, handrolls, grilled vegetables and meat to choose from. And I had a lot of raw fish, because, well, that's the most expensive thing on the menu! So I ate like five raw salmon sushi, raw tuna, raw octupus, raw shell-fish, raw fish eggs... Until now, I'm still alright, so it must be pretty fresh food.

But even now, almost three hours after our meal, I'm still stuffed.

Operation Enduring High

Name: Operation Enduring High

Objective: Smuggle contraband across the international sovereign state boundaries between the Kingdom of the Netherlands and the (divided) Kingdom of Belgium.

Object: Light narcotic substance commonly identified as 'Cremers Premium'. Dried leaves of the plant in the family of 'cannabis sativa'.

Quantity: 2.75grams, with a street value of €20

Logistics: Contraband to be transported from The Hague to Antwerp on the international train commonly known as 'Benelux train'.

Time: 17 November, 16.00hrs to 17.30hrs.
Possible operational hazards: Risk of customs controls and/or sniff dogs. However, intelligence gathered from operatives in the field report the risk is negligible.

Precautionary measures: Contraband was wrapped carefull in two plastic bags which previously contained 'smelly food'. Rubbish and a bottle of juice was thrown into bags to give impression that it is merely garbage, and to dampen the smell of contraband.

Status: Mission Accomplished.

Despite a guilty conscience, and thumping heart whenever the doors of the train carriage opened, the 'goods' were safely delivered as a favour to a friend.

Remarks: Don't try this at home. Or anywhere else.

"Woman see lot of things"

Woman see lots of things, and undgo untold many more.

It was a painful documentary to watch. Sitting there, at times you would hope the retelling of the horrors experienced by the three former girl soldiers in Sierra Leone would stop. But that is a mocking comfort, which perhaps comes from some twisted form of voyeuristic pleasure, you have as a member of the audience who can get up from his seat and just walk away after the 65 minutes of the film is over. For these girls, and many others, the horrors are retold and relived. Daily.

The descriptions are graphic, aided by well choreographed close-up shots of the women's faces, sullen eyes, scarred surface of their skins, and the moisture on their wavering pout lips. Unborn babies cut open alive from the pregnant woman's womb... orders to gouge out the heart of a hanging corpse to prove readiness to join the rebel forces, the rapes of infants below five, abused and tortured girls with swollen stomachs left on the roadside to succumb to a slow and undignified death... These are but some of the tragedies lingering from over a decade of civil war in Sierra Leone and neighbouring Liberia. After the war, the women continue to be victims in a society that shuns and openly tolerates the discrimination of women. Out of desperation, many turn to prostitution, while others willingly submit themselves to become slaves in exchange for meagre food and shelter for their children.

Words cannot explain the pain. Not even the tears. War is violent, and sexual violence had until recently been a taboo not recognised as a crime against humanity. Yet, the overwhelming majority are women who suffer at the moment literally the unspeakable is done to them, and who continue suffer pain and shame long thereafter. It is upsetting to just hear, to just imagine, but what is it like to be the victim?

But in these women, and in the children who run around with smiles on their faces, you see strength so lacking elsewhere. You realise that despite all odds, despite all the worst excesses of inhumanity that they have had to see and experience, there is hope. Hope of earning money, getting a proper education, and being able to open a shop, of being able to be an independent woman in a society dominated and corrupted by men. Hope of perhaps one day leaving the country and travelling abroad where it is easier to make a living. Whatever hope it may be, hope seems to transcend the horrors before, and spring eternally.

Never again... never again... You would think to yourself, and you would hope for the victims and for the children who run around and enact scenes of soldiers they have witnessed at border posts checking the papers of fleeing refugees...

But it is happening. Over and over again.