Li Learns Programming: September

Doing something I’m not good at is the worst.

This is the second time I’m diving into programming more seriously. As a recovering perfectionist, I generally avoid doing things that I don’t feel an immediate affinity for. Of course I enjoy a challenge, but I’d rather have it with the prospect of becoming somewhat decent at it relatively quickly.

Enter coding, it’s a particular curiosity of mine that relates to matters that interest me as someone with a humanities background. Design, behaviors, analysis, interaction, language, it has it all. But it doesn’t have it in a way that’s very accessible to me.

On my first foray into coding, focusing on web design, I was surprised at how foreign its language seemed to me. There were new terms like booleans and existing terms being used differently like arguments and. Sentences that seemed like plain English suddenly seemed unintelligible. I don’t think I’ve really tried something else where I felt that out of water before. Even more so because I didn’t improve quickly or seemingly, at all.

My interest in coding coincided with my first job at a company where I directly worked with software developers and engineers. Before, my interaction with IT hadn’t gone further than the resident IT guy, who mainly sent out emails warning about phishing and walked around advising to restart devices when they malfunctioned. IT seemed like a grey world of zeroes and ones, quite necessary but utterly devoid of any creativity.

However, joining a small company with a sizable amount of developers on its staff, brought me much closer to the source. It provided an actual look into what could be accomplished with programming and how mystical it appeared to me. Meetings were filled with wondrous names that had equally wondrous promises. And although I didn’t really understood it, others did and even got very enthusiastic about it. It got me very interested, but also very furstrated when I realized how different programming and developing works as a process of creations.

I like to think of myself as a creative person. But there’s a certain straightforwardness that I like to have in its process. I’m not an idea machine, my imagination works best when prompted (come at me ChatGPT) and if directed at something conrete. I want things to be concrete, almost tactile if possible. Being able to see the process, but also have an idea how that will lead to the desired result. Words on a page, threads on a loom, moves in a choreography. But I remember when I was introduced to the world of html markup, it seemed like such a big jump to go from <h1></h1> to an actual header. It still boggles my mind that programming just works like that. You write a few things, and then it suddenly works automatically.

I still have the feeling this time that there’s so much happening behind the curtains that I don’t grasp. It feels eerily like learning a language without knowing its grammar and just delving into vocabulary. It can work, but it’s definitely not how I learn best or without the least frustration. It’s an itchy lump that I feel somewhere around my diaphragm when I stare at a black screen that need to be filled with words that will get me to a result that I have difficulty imagining. But when it works, it is very fulfilling. It’s sometimes more fulfilling than my regular learning process, because I struggle so much. And that’s why I want to continue with it. For now.

The Scoreboard: Sasaki and Miyano

As everybody else on this planet, I have an opinion. As many people do too, I like to write about it. Share it generously. And I am excellent at keeping score (mentally), so I will try tallying up my fondness of things according to balance.

Sasaki and Miyano

High school, first live and boys. Boys that fall in love and to fall in love with. This is one of the sweetest boy’s love series I have watched in a while. It is filled with angst (a right amount!), pining and lots of blushing.

The titular characters both go to the same high school. Sasaki is a tall, delinquent-looking, orange-dyed haired guy who breaks up a fight that Miyano, a short, wide-eyed, tousled-hair boy saw and wanted to interfere in. For Sasaki it is basically love at first sight, Miyano is too flustered by the heroicism that Sasaki displays to feel nothing but awe for him.

Over the course of the series we meet friends on both sides, always refreshing to see main characters interact with others besides their love interest, and follow both of them developing feelings for each other, admitting and accepting them.

This love story serves as kind of a parallel to Miyano’s interest in boy’s love manga. This is the first connection Sasaki makes with him and it is an important one since they immediately share some common ground and then develop a solid friendship on top of that. The genre also plays a role in Miyano’s own development, influencing his perception of masculinity and love. The designs of both guys reinforce this as well, with Sasaki being the traditional gorgeous guy, and Miyano having big sparkly eyes and softer features. Sometimes it seems a bit too extreme, but generally it serves the purpose well.

The other characters are fleshed out wuite well, especially blond-haired and slightly hypocritical but csring Hirano. Kusekawa, Miyano’s friend is slightly too obsessed with his girlfriend but in a seemingly healthy enough way. Ogesawara has some prejudices and difficult temperament but means well and just seems tsken aback by his girlfriend’s interest in boy’s love.

The series fleshes out both Sasaki and Miyano’s perspectives but it moves at a sloe pace. This is a romance slowly unfolding, carefully and taking its time to build up to the final moment. And it was great, making me rub my feet together as I saw it.

If you like your romances slow-burning, with plenty of sugar and hot guys, then this is a high recommendation. I rate it ideal for beginning and more mature fujoshi and fudanshi who want their romance without any coercion.

The Scoreboard: Wotakoi

Wotakoi

Fandom, an attitude that the Japanese perfected in the otaku, a probably too obsessed fan of manga and/or anime as well as any related media and materials. I have only ever described myself as a very mild otaku but I can relate very well to the premise of the main character’s insistence of trying to hide her obsession for her co-workers to fit in better.

I also appreciate the series for letting the cat out of the bag rather quickly and going beyond its initial premise. Her co-worker is an old school friend from her otaku days, and her senior female colleague and his manager date, with her being a well-known cross-dresser. The main quartet makes for a fun mix, eventually throwing a younger brother with an extremely shy gamer girl into the mix.

The main issue preventing this series from ever turning into love from like, was its lack of chemistry between the main characters. Narumi and Hirotaka work well as friends and even their prsgmatic start to their relationship is believable. However, the time spent afterwards is mainly on antics and not on further building out its romance. In that respect, the other couples both fare better, although Hanako and Kabakura could have used a bit more sweetness to balance all of the (joke) fighting. Naoya’s romance doesn’t getfully fleshed out either, so though it has potential it does not show it fully during the series.

The humor is fun and the pace breezy, but it did not become full-out laughter at any moment for me. I had some good chuckles, but it hinges a bit too much on the characters being quite one-note.

All in all, it was still a petfectly fine watch if you are looking for something easy-going that does not make you think too much. I rate it a watch with your otaku friend to gush about your own experiences while watching.

The Scoreboard: My New Boss is Goofy

My New Boss is Goofy

The workplace, this seemingly mythical location as a child and a place of great pain and dread for many adults. The premise of this series is probably not uncommon in Japan, an abusive boss with unreasonable demands that the main character escapes out of absolute necessity. Fate directs Momose to another agency that made an absolutely awe-inspiring advertisement where he meets his new manager Shirosaki. Trying to hide his insecurities, physical discomfort and plain fear, Momose assumes the worst but is immediately endeared and reassured when his new boss turns out to be absent-minded, clumsy but most of all caring and capable.

The work relationship quickly morphs into a friendship, and the department head Aoyama and new colleague Kinjo are quickly added to the crew. Although the latter two serve more as comedic characters, the four together have great chemistry and balance. Ultimately, the show focuses on Momose’s journey to getting back his trust, confidence and believing in himself. Although Shirosaki’s absent-mindedness seems almost at odds with his competence at work, this contrast works great to emphasize why his behavior as a manager is almost entirely devoid of any of the toxicity and power play Momose’s previous boss treated him to.

Most of the episode’s are one-offs, although there are a few longer storylines weaved throughout the series. We learn a bit more about Momose and especially Shirosaki’s background, who has an equally handsome and absent-minded brother. Basically all of the characters are male, with Shirosaki’s granny influencer and some female co-workers who think up romantic storylines between Shirosaki and Momose being the only exceptions, and girlfriends are eerily absent for all four men.

There are many puns and cute visual gags, for example the fact that Shirosaki rarely shows emotion and communicates his feelings through little drawings. But Aoyama’s neediness is on the verge of nagging and wear a bit thin after the first few times. I also cannot help but imagine that I would go crazy if I lived together with someone, worked with them and then hung out as well during the weekend. Even though it is good to see four male adults having friends and communicating directly, the absence of any disagreements or disputes is incredulous at certain points.

Although the show can veer a bit too much on its ‘healing’ content, a few longer overarching storylines could have provided more insight into the characters and fleshed out Aoyama and Kinjo a bit more, it does what it sets out to do very well. If you had a long day and want some relaxation, a few laughs and imagine four handsome guys hanging out together on a daily basis, this is a great show. I rate it a great workplace to be and also look at.

The Scoreboard: Look Back

Look Back

I’ve always admired a passion that people can have in certain activities. Generally, I’m quite cerebreal when moving through life and it is an amazing feat to me when someone seems to be able to lose themselves in the moment and think singlemindedly about one thing. Such a passion and drive are at the heart of this films.

This is a surprisingly short film, but it packs quite the punch. Starting from a compelling premise, Fujino is being praised for rather mediocre art until Kyomoto’s more impressive creations come along which bruises her ego and almost wants to make her give up. It is only after accidentally being saddled with the task of bringing Kyomoto her diploma that she realizes how much work goes into her craft. And also how much of a need to draw Kyomoto has. Of course it also helps that Kyomoto confesses to be her biggest fan after daring to come out.

This transition from indignation to cynicism, being flattered and then driven to improve is portrayed very compellingly. We see Fujino and Kyomoto hunched over a lot, but the process somehow still feels dynamic. We see them working and growing together, and then separating again by choosing different paths and then one getting cut off.

The ending makes the whole film even more bittersweet, showing an alternative storyline, but with the same need for both of them to create and draw. It is a testament to the innateness of certain things. Regardless of circumstances, there are things that will always matter to you and thus always be done, albeit in a different matter.

And although that may almost seem slightly fatalistic, it also provides some comfort. That you can trust on your needs and have faith in your ways to get them realized. It is a way of celebrating the joy you can have when allowing yourself to be in the moment of satisfaction. Even if it is something that you can only see in hindsight, that does not diminish its value.

I rate it a highly emotional movie that will leave you raring to create something as soon as you finished it.

Travel tidbits: security

Having traveled in China and Taiwan for the first time since 2020, I have some thoughts. The past 4,5 weeks showed me many things that remain the same, have changed hugely or did not notice as much before. I will put some of these into words in my next few posts.

This time around, it definitely felt like security was increased. Especially at the metro stations and in the metro as well. Guards were more actively checking up on substances, items and eating in the metro. Traffic lights with cameras were more common, snapping shots of jaywalkers. And identification was necessary way more often than before.

Security was also the aspect that set Beijing apart the most clearly. Of course it did not help that we were there at the tail end of the national holiday, which naturally meant increased security and guards around the Forbidden City and Tian’anmen Square. But I did not expect my boyfriend to be held back because they found some of his (work) papers suspicious(?). I guess it was a good thing the Chinese for ‘patent’ did not come up in my head immediately, since that probably would not have helped the case.

Anyway, I did not think the already quite performative security could be pushed even further. I guess it did not really surprise me that much, and only in Beijing did they have guards walking around in metro carts. I was surprised that one of them told me I was not allowed to eat, but it comforted me that nobody batted an eye when I finished my corn after he got off.

Security at metro stations did increase though, and was a bit more strict. Liquid checks were quite common in all cities, almost always being asked to take a sip or occasionally having my bottle being put on a machine that probably identified it as safe. We were also asked more specifically about ‘dangerous objects’ such as pocket knives, which my boyfriend ended up packing in the top of his backpack for easy access. At the same time, anytime we needed to show or prove something, the guards seemed kind of at a loss at what was supposed to happen next. Even my excuses were often not listened to and they seemed to just let us go with the knowledge that checking us was the most important.

I was surprised however, how much we had to identify ourselves this time around. Granted, Chinese IDs have become more ubiquitous as convenient, personalized ways to gain access to all sorts of attractions. At the same time, the system was a lot less seamless for foreign passport holders, so we spent some time with guards looking over our shoulder as we filled out perfunctory forms that did not generate QR codes for us, and holding up our passports to get entry if we could not scan.

Lastly, I received some additional scrutiny at the customs border almost every time we passed. Granted, I have about 5 expired Chinese visa and about 25 stamps in random order in my passport so that confusion is fully understandable. However, it also seems that some of my information was not always available (like the Chinese name I used when living in China) or that my passport could for some reason not be scanned. I was happy however to not get questioned about the quirky combination of a Chinese face and Dutch passport.

In the end, China definitely interprets and carries out security quite differently than we tend to view it in the West. Where we may specifically add guards under certain circumstances, in China they are present in many places, but often asleep. Something my boyfriend also notices about many of the police officers he spotted. There may be 6 security guards at the metro entrance, but 2 of them are looking at their phone and the other 4 are almost fighting to get to tell the passengers what to do or to scan them. The fact that perfunctory security measures still seem to be the focus, at least in the big cities and for the general population, is a postive. Relatively.

Travel tidbits: Chengdu

I do not know where it was published, but I remember seeing Chengdu top some list of most liveable cities in China according to expats. The last time I visited was more than 10 years ago, so there were no recognitions, but there were plenty of pleasant surprises.

Chengdu is one of those cities where there is a nice blend of touristic and commercial spots with residential areas. It feels like there is a sort of balance between these two, allowing you to move around quite naturally. The first day in Chengdu it was only a half day actually, and we ended up going to a shopping center to exchange something. This was further out of the city and looked like it was not entirely operating anymore, something confirmed with pictures on the map that showed a lot more liveliness, but the city proper pretty much lacks this luckily.

It feels like it is a fairly relaxed city, lacking a certain pride Beijing has as the capital while having more of a character than Shanghai as a trade center and being a bit more convenient than Chongqing as a collection of hills. There is the Chinese liveliness, but also some areas populated by the foreigners. There are the touristic old streets, but also huge modern art museums with more experimental architecture.

I think one of the things that annoyed me most, was the city leaning so heavily into its panda image. I have seen pandas but have never really been a fan. I find it mystifying that China chose such an incapable animal as its source of national pride. I guess they wanted a project to really challenge themselves with. But besides my disdain for the animal, it is no surprise that the whole industry among it turns out to have some serious issues.

But, besides that there was a lot of nice food, various temples with surprisingly active and earnest worshippers, a nice mix of green and blue, plenty of shared bikes to use, and a peek at alternative culture.

Travel tidbits: Chongqing

32 million people. Almost twice the size of the Netherlands, that is Chongqing. I think the first time I heard someone talk about Chongqing what I remember adding to my knowledge besides hotpot being a specialty from the city, that it is confusingly mountainous. There were some animated stories about people entering shopping centers at ground level and suddenly coming out at the 5th floor, but it turning out to be ground level on the other side.

I also watched Chongqing Hotpot during a trip to another Chinese city, a gritty movie about some incurred debts instigating violence, and eating a lot of hotpot in between, somewhere underground.

Arriving in the city proper, its terrain certainly did not disappoint. The hostel we were staying at was at the 9th floor, but you could also exit there, walking on the roofs while having the eery feeling that you were on ground level since the highrises were still towering over you. As for the underground hotpot, we ended up seeing a surprising amount of history on the Sino-Japanese war (1937-1945) since the Chinese government moved to Chongqing in 1941, and that resulted in many bombings and thus underground shelters being built. Next time there can definitely be more time devoted to exploring the different ones which are apparently increasingly being redeveloped in to restaurants, shops, cinemas and hotels.

As to two other claims to fame for Chongqing, the rivers are properly impressive and Hongya Cave bears some resemblance to the atmosphere of Spirited Away, but less so than expected. The architecture actually feels somewhat nostalgic, since it is all immense buildings like the ones that used to be built in China everywhere about 15 years ago. Also, I do not think it reflects reality, but the skyscrapers feel about 10-20 stories higher than usual.

Walking around was quite exciting with the height differences and a good workout since you also go up and down a good number of stairs on any distance. Personally I am not a fan of cities with rivers that you want to cross often, since that is just extra distance you always have to cover. And that is especially the case in Chongqing, crossing a bridge on the way back one night took us a good 25 minutes, and chances of being on a bike are low with the hilly terrain.

I also wonder if the size of the city allowed it to rebuild so many ‘traditional’ areas. We went to at least 1 every day, and they really have many similar offerings as to snacks, shops and general atmosphere. Also, I really wonder if there will ever be some rules about the lights at night, because while pretty they were really extreme both in colors and amounts. I basically feel that even though you may live on the 30th floor, you will still close your curtains to block the lights outside. And we do not even have any curtains in our current appartment!

Still, the city’s identity, although kind of a big, bigger, biggest, is quite distinct and different. The height differences give you the feeling of constantly uncovering something new, and with such a big area there is plenty more to be seen a next time.

Travel tidbits: Taipei

I am not made for a tropical climate. When we arrived in Taipei, my glasses fogged up as soon as we switched from an artificially cooled climate to the hot outside air, directly followed by sweat production.

The last time I had been in Taipei was quite some time ago, so the city was not that familiar to me. However, its atmosphere still was recognizable, especially its blend of Chinese and Japanese influences with local culture. I was surprised that everything felt a bit more rundown and old timey, especially when compared to the glitz and glamour of the big Chinese cities we just came from. Almost all of the vehicles also have gasoline motors, so that made for a lot of noise that is just not that present anymore in most Chinese cities.

One contrast that is still very clear, is the presence of religion. Although there seems to be a bit more interest in China for certain religious practices, it is of course heavily restricted and practice tends to feel very performative. Not so in Taipei. We stumbled upon some prayer times, holidays where statues were taken out, and many offerings (especially for the God of Wealth). Like Japan, the temples in Taipei vary from opulent to small and makeshift. It is clear that they really form part of the city’s and culture’s fabric, in a very natural way which I think is not that common in a lot of Western countries anymore.

Looking back to Taipei, I think it was the place where I felt most comfortable in my memories and experience. I remembered how good the bubble tea and local desserts are, how varied the nature is with sea and mountains so nearby, how bustling the city is but people do queue for the escalators, how weird it is to suddenly stumble upon some Dutch colonial history so far away (although I wrote about that earlier this year in Dutch here), how uninterested I still am in going up Taipei 101, how the night markets are nice to snack at but a bit hectic and making me nervous thinking about huge cockroaches. Although I always like to have a sense of discovery when going places, in this case a bit of recognition was more than welcome.

Asia is a country after all

Two questions popped up when I read about budget cuts for universities and how Leiden University is planning to cut costs: How is it possible to even consider merging all these specialized language studies in bigger regional programs? Would they even consider this for any STEM programs? But first, some context about my experience studying Chinastudies in Leiden.

Although I get asked from time to time if I am a student, that time is long gone. And looking at the recent developments and policy proposals in the education sector, I am happy to be done (for now). At the same time, it is a pretty wild idea that there seem to be people working to not improve our education system. Why is that?

Being adopted and going to China at quite a young age, I already knew for a while before going to university that I wanted to study Chinese. Starting in the year after China hosted the Olympic Games, Chinastudies offered a new window onto China and many others on the region as well. Coming from a small city in Limburg, it was the start of seeing more people like me and getting talked to in English. It was the start of uncovering a history, culture and language that felt foreign but eventually became familiar. It was the start of imagining a life beyond the Netherlands and actually blending into a different environment.

During my studies, I would often get the question of what work I wanted to do afterwards. The suggestions mostly were translator or teacher. I understand that there are some studies which train you for a specific job, but the beauty of humanities is that it offers skills that can be useful in a wide range of job fields and positions. That does not mean I did not struggle with finding work, or that I think this aspect could be better incorporated in the curriculum, but it seems these are not the more practical matters that universities want to focus on.

Recently, I listened to a podcast that described Just-In-Time production, which in modern marketing terms would be called ‘lean’. It basically means that factories only produce as much as they need and keep inventory as low as possible. This means the entire output is customer- or demand-driven, which seems to be a system that Leiden University wants to follow as well. Why offer academic programs that nobody wants to study? Why not shrink the number of staff to just the bare minimum? Why focus on the quality of a program instead of the money it generates?

The ignorance that Leiden University’s management shows by even considering to merge so many different humanities programs, is outright insulting. It is a clear case of undervaluing the worth that academic language and culture programs provide and purely looking at cost-effectiveness. Why try to pretend otherwise?

When I was living in China, or travelling in the country nowadays, I realized many Chinese do not know the Netherlands exist. Admittedly, it does not help that the Chinese name for the Netherlands sounds a lot like a province (Helan vs Henan) and I do not like Dutch either. But adding Europe would often elicit some nodding and affirmative noises. “Ah I see, it is in Europe”, was the general feeling I got. “Ah I see, it is in Asia”, is the general feeling I now get from Leiden University’s management.