Jazz Fusion

1907 doubles as a film museum, and the venue is in a historical building and it is absolutely gorgeous with fittingly theatrical vibes. We caught Marutyri’s Jazz Fusion show while downing some IPAs and it was super awesome. Guitarists are usually my go-to, then drummers, but dude, the saxophonist tho.

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Such Great Heights

Happy accident. I intended to visit the observation deck of TV tower (middle pic) but after getting hella lost like ABC, I traversed through warm bits of nature, wooden decks, meandering autumn-lined dusty roads and clumsy staircases, and wound up here, at the entrance of a cable car railway thing.

The railway thing consists of two routes–the first overlooks an easily distinguishable traditional temple with downtown’s modern skyline as its backdrop, and the second descends into Zhongshan Park–the Chinese version of Central Park.

Unlike today’s lazy hazy opaque sky, the sky and sea was bountifully blue, illustrating this city’s trademark: blue sea and sky, red-tiled roofs, and natural greenery. I shakily let go of the handlebar, and reclined against the curved seating. When the cable car reached its highest point, the skyscrapers gleamed in the striking sunlight and the shimmering sea glimmered in the distance as my legs dangled below and I slowly floated over the beautiful scenery with a cool breeze gently sweeping across my face. This was freedom. Except with restraints. Sorta freedom. But it was perfect.

From the Scale of 1 to America…

There was one year when I watched “Into the Wild,” at least thrice a week for a few months. Still bummed I never made it Salvation Mountain/ Slab City.

Book from a thrift store in Arizona, so you know it’s real.

How free are you?

This coffee shop had one of my fave films posted on the wall. Had to (also, I usually hate it when books change their cover to the film adaptation, but not dis).

I love world cultures. So much that I was in the Japanese Culture Club in High School and just listened to Culture Club’s Karma Chameleon this AM as my wake-up tune.

Wat.

During the TEFL program days, I enjoyed asking my students (weird sentence since we were in the same age group) their opinion of American culture. Without skipping a beat, the majority–hailing from the Middle East to Japan–negatively viewed Americans as a generally arrogant and superficial group.

I used to joke around and say that the rest of the world laughs at us.

They actually do.

Met these Belgian dudes who told me that the Little Mermaid statue was sadly unremarkable and American-made Belgian Waffles aren’t even real. We went onto talk about the oversexed culture of America, the media circus and its ringleader. Also, football is widely regarded as soccer.

I used to joke around and say that the rest of the world hates us.

They don’t…kinda. They just don’t care.

Living somewhere vastly new and incredibly different has given me the wonderful opportunity to respectively (and playfully) chat about cultural perspectives, particularly what the world thinks of us. Open-minded conversations like these are always wonderfully enlightening and graciously humbling. They’re these tiny stories that I get to keep for myself.