Not too young to romanticize youth

In February I saw a newer Chinese movie at the International Film Festival Rotterdam: “Now I met her”. Although the Chinese title is a pun, which I like better. To clarify, normally I vehemently dislike puns and prefer to display my disgust vocally and physically, but I am a bit partial to Chinese puns since the language has so many homophones, it can get very creative. For example, the Chinese title is 我的妈耶 which can be translated as “Now that’s my mother!” Or “Oh my god”. Both interpretations could be suitable titles to the movie in question.

Now the movie itself was a lighthearted, humorous and touching family story. But what stood out to me, was the time it took place in. It tells the story of the mother, who was born in the seventies and spent her youth and formative years during the eighties, nineties and early two thousands. Seldomly, I feel, do a piece of media and a societal trend I’ve read about collide as beautifully as this moment.

Back to the better times

Just a few months earlier, I read an article in Li Yuan’s excellent New York Times column “The New New World” which talked about ‘The beauty of the boom years‘. Li talks about the longing for more optimistic and positive times, mixing with nostalgia of Chinese people who can remember their youth jn a very different environment than they’re currently living in. The outlook gets pretty bleak rather quickly, with interviewees musing about the hopeless job, housing and dating markets.

Li dates the ‘boom years’ unofficially back to 2001, but the movie starts earnestly in the seventies. However, it very much conveys the exuberance, positivism and styles of the previous eras. The comedic timing reminded me of earlier movies as well, with very stylized poses and exaggerated expressions. Even though there are some hardships depicted, these are all overcome and almost depicted as springboards for the next opportunity.

Another aspect that stood out to me, was the mix of Western and Chinese elements. Some clothing in the seventies clearly reference a more Western style with colorful suits, slick hair and fashionable sunglasses. The seventies were the decade when China started opening up and accepting more foreign influences to modernize. Economy was booming and especially southeastern China, where the movie took place, was at the forefront of these developments.

These trends further solidified in the eighties, with Hong Kong having solidified its position as a touristic and commercial hub in Asia. Additionally, its cinema and music scene were highly popular in this decade and had outsize influence on China as well as internationally.

I think from the eighties until the early two thousands is also the perfect timeframe to look back on through rose-colored glasses, since it can sincerely seem far away. All the appliances are big, clunky and have many physical aspects such as buttons and cords. Connectivity is still limited, which may be unthinkable to many nowadays, but therefore desirable.

Sitting in the movie theater, surrounded by a mainly Chinese audience that also swamped the director afterwards for questions, I couldn’t help but feel that this audience was longing to see the perfect China that the current government still insists they’re trying to create. Looking quickly at some movie reviews, the most praise is given for the depiction of the family relationships. The love between mother and father, the tenderness between mother and son. In my opinion, this also fits in the nostalgic theme, reflecting on a time where the rat race wasn’t as extreme and interpersonal connections were a priority.

All in all, I liked the movie and it made me laugh and cry plenty. But most of all, it made me think and that’s even better.

Li learns programming: November/December

They say it takes a few months to get a good habit down. I am at the point where if I freeze my streak for too long, i.e. don’t program but pause my streak for a few days, it stresses me out. I feel rusty or not in the zone. And I sometimes feel I’m in the zone when I find the time to work through a couple of lessons one after the other.

I’m feeling slightly less mystified by the whole programming thing. I still have moments of intense frustration and can get exasperated when I feel certain concepts have not been explained but just need to be known.

But, even though I hate the technology behind it and it sometimes flat-out tells me the solution, I like conversing with the AI helper Boots. It gives the whole thing a bit more of a face and of course he’s relentlessly encouraging. Something I don’t mind for a change since this thing is not my forte.

What I realize the longer I continue my learning, is that I find the process of programming, though difficult to grasp, very cool. The idea that something is automated is just very attractive. And having sorted through photos, putting them in different folders and doublechecking their dates, I’m pretty sure that’s something I could maybe automate in the future.

But I’m also getting impatient. The jump from this stage to actually getting to do what I want or think I’ll find most interesting still looms large. There’s a part of me that is used to having a clear idea of what I need to learn to go from beginner to advanced. I’m not that clear about the roadmap this time, and in addition to feeling like I don’t understand the computer enough, it also makes me worry I don’t have enough control about it and thus cannot make it do what I’d eventually like it to.

But even though the utilitarian purpose of this new language still remains somewhat hidden, I know it’s there. I do like a challenge in the end, and beyond that there’s nothing more I like than facing it head-on.

Li learns programming: October

I can feel my stomach churning. It even burns a little. And an intense frustration flares up, to the extent that I almost audibly shout out “WHY?!”. In capital letters.

Two courses. I’ve finished two courses by now and am almost overwhelmed with a feeling of not knowing most of the things. Whenever I look for a new challenge to practice with, I almost invariably choose to practice the ‘easy’ things. So that I can feel a bit surer of what to do or how to get to the end goal. And at the same time, I should feel happy that there are already things that feel ‘easy’.

Following a masterclass on AI & data a few weeks ago, what struck me most was its emphasis on explicitness. You need to be very precise in talking to computers, nothing can be implied. And if I put my frustration in that context, it’s actually quite similar to how language acquisition works. And I felt the same when learning Russian, where the approach was immersion. Diving head-first into the language and getting the grammar explained along the way. I didn’t study it for very long so I didn’t get very far, but I got used to the method eventually.

I think what I miss the most in this way of learning is a payoff. Because you don’t notice immediately when you’re immersed if you’ve improved or not, you just continue. I have the same with programming. I continue, and feel relief if an answer is correct, but I forget to look back. Only when I notice the really easy ones are not a challenge anymore, do I realize where I’m at. But it also doesn’t feel that fulfilling, since those are clearly the easiest ones that anyone without coding experience could also reason through.

Going through this process makes me think again about my roadblocks when learning. I cannot enjoy learning just for the sake of experiencing something new or different. I need some utilitarian aspect, or the prospect that this new knowledge or skill is going to be put to good use. And maybe that’s why programming is a good challenge as well. Its actual use still seems so far away from where I am right now, that I feel like I don’t have any choice but to enjoy the ride for now. And if nothing else, I’ll try my best to do that at least.

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.

Why digital cleanup is no fun

I like order, structure, organization. Giving things a place brings me joy. Sparks joy I guess in organizer-guru-speak. And sure, whenever I moved there were always moments of anguish and hopelessness whenever I needed to pack stuff and take it all out. The moment you have lost all of your energy and the physical stuff is all around you on the ground. Been there, done that.

However, for the organized person I am, my own digital archive is not that well-structured at all. At work, I thrive when deciding on a file naming system or cleaning up folders and putting them together. When I look at my own collection of videos, photos and (important?) documents I want to cry.

It is of course a grand paradox that because we now have seemingly infinite space to store stuff, this makes us more careless about how much stuff we create. And of course visuals take up a large part of this ‘overcreation’. Everyone probably has at least one thing that they constantly record, and mine is mostly sports.

I think many sports are some combination of techniques and visuals. And it is great that we have so much visuals to learn from and improve with, but it can also be impeding. I record myself dutifully every session, but I do not tend to look back at it too much. I know I will be focusing on a bent leg or flexed foot. Did that flow got interrupted because of the buffering or is it my movement? It simply does not spark joy for the most part.

Moreover, there is not only the stuff I film myself, I have external platforms that I check or neglect to check. There is a constant feeling of having too much and not making use of its potential. It is the opposite end of the subscription scheme. There is too much stuff we do not own, and too much of the stuff that we do own. Balance is lost.

Instead of limiting ourselves to saving the things we find very important, we are being ruled by the amount of digital space available. Enticed to pay for increased space, which just means a brief respite to look away ant not at all of the stuff that we record. I am only limited by my unwillingness to pay for things, which results in brief outbursts of downloading, deleting and quickly putting things together in one folder so everything else seems to be in order. Eventually I will look at it. Probably not.

Praise for pragmatic fictional characters

Sometimes, I think about how it would be if someone like me would be the main character in a high school anime. Some of the standard highlights, would certainly play out a bit differently I imagine.

Beach episode: I do not really care for the beach. My swimming is quite below average, I wear glasses and cannot really see stuff without them, am bad at ball games which seem to be involved in most beach games. However, I would absolutely kill at the watermelon game. Although I always find it a bit of a waste, since much juice will probably be lost, it is a combination of many things I like. Burst of targeted violence and food. A beach episode would probably just involve getting a few watermelons and a few heads smashed.

Summer festival: although I am capable of wearing long clothes during summer, searing sun beams have made me appreciate extra protection instead of the limited cooling bareness provides, I am not good with clothes that limit my mobility. Although I have excellent mental self-control, my physical self-control is less strict. Especially my legs that preferably have some space between each other, but also to allow me to easily move around on my bike or walk the stairs. The games are also not really my thing. They are either rigged, involve skills I do not have sufficiently or involve too many others around me, especially kids. I do like the food part and the fireworks though, I could easily just fill an episode eating at all the stalls.

Cultural festival: teamwork at a large scale is not really my thing. I would probably do my job, be present, participate and stay in the background.

Sports competition: these really combine two opposites for me, at least when I see them in an anime. On the one hand it is about teamwork, on the other hand it is about winning. I am very much about winning, going all out, amazing everybody. But only if I am good at the thing. The sports I have seen featured in anime often involve a team and hand-eye coordination. Bad combination for me. But the drama created by me not doing my best and being passive-agressive about it, could be entertaining. Possibly.

Valentine’s Day: I do not like baking. I find it a lot of hassle for only part of a meal. I would probably be too nervous to give chocolate anyway if I had a crush, so it would end up being a store-bought bar to a friend or something.

Christmas: as a Dutchie, I am more attached to Saint Nicholas than Santa Claus. However, I do like the idea of a sleigh with reindeer in the air. On the other hand, having KFC or fastfood for Christmas does not attract me too much. Also, the emphasis on romance would probably kill me.

New Year’s Eve and Day: temple visit sounds fun! Praying, fortune telling is always more fun if you only do it on special occasions. Also, I would be dying to have a new year’s dream featured and possible interpretations offered. And of course food and money! A perfect combination.

School trip: I expect to not be late or miss the bus for any of this. I would probably have stuff in my mind that I want to do, see or visit at the destination, but I could be too shy to speak up. That could lead to some nice drama and heightened emotions.

When do you like to do your reading?

Recently, I started to read the Dune books after I watched the second film and found myself sort of falling in love with reading again. This feeling that you do not want to put a book down and cannot wait to read what is going to happen next. As it happened, this renewed reading streak happened right at the start of my holiday, which made any transit or waiting time a bit easier.

It started at the airport, where much waiting was happening. There is no better way to train your concentration then trying to read while there are tons of families keeping their kids happy, airport staff zooming in between with carts and coffee, anouncements on which flights are delayed and all types of chatter about the flight destination and the supposed weather there.

Then, taking a budget flight there was no in-flight entertainment, I read on with my forehead comfortable against the seat in front of me. It even makes you forget the whole agony about placing you arm somewhere if you have the middle seat. It also makes you less susceptible to noticing the flight attendants walking by with all their wares to sell, which is especially necessary when it is edible stuff they have.

Arriving at the destination I was lucky enough to take the train and could read to my heart’s content. Afterwards, there would be more car rides with limited reading time since I get carsick quite easily and we would be in the mountains as well. Also, the space in the train was quite cramped so it mostly, but not entirely prevented my limbs from flailing around too much.

The rest of the time, any waiting time was gladly filled with reading a few pages to the next chapter. After the holiday, I read on the train and also before sleeping, trying to make it part of my more common routine. Sometimes, I feel drained reading so much news or information at work, and delving into a book can really uplift, even if you basically do the same thing. Bonus point, if you do it on your phone, you can also feel slightly better about the reason being glued to your device.

When you try to make cleaning easier

Sitting in my kitchen, I can hear the robot vacuuming and mopping upstairs. Although vacuuming is not a chore I particularly dislike, it is convenient to think that it can be done when you are not at home.

As one of the older millennials, I feel like I still hold on to some pride to do things without too much technology involved. Smart technology only makes me suspicious. I do not need a smart fridge, a smart coffee machine or a smart rice cooker. The Google Home in my house has been off and disconnected from electricity since its entrance. I think the only thing about smart technology that I read about, is the fact that they tend to record way more information then necessary. We already live without curtains, no further transparency is needed.

But a vacuum robot seems weirdly benign. As a word, robot conjures more old-school images of machines that buzz and blink when you turn them on. Humans are in full control, the machine is not meant to think along but merely follow orders or a program. And sure, any simple machine these days involves an app which opens it up again to much more information than it probably needs. But that big bad company seems far away and the robot certainly cannot make use of any information that is on my phone. And seeing the cleaning lines on the map appear almost fully equally spaced is very satifying.

At the same time, I mainly like the convenience of the robot because I usually do not turn it on myself. Having someone else takes care of the whole process, makes it all even more seamless and automatic. Alas, I am on my own again for a couple of weeks and thought I should not need to resort to old school vacuuming.

So I took the robot from its docking station, wetted the mop as expected, checked its water and sent it of on its cleaning journey. I fiddled with the necessary map I needed to put it on, then I thought I had put everything away but somehow the robot really wanted to have a hangout session with our drying rack. All in all, it took some time before everything was right as it should be and the cleaning lines started appearing on the map.

The old adagio is still true. Everything is automated but nothing happens automatically. Well, at least not when I am by myself.

A Taste of News: Save the donkeys

As many in my direct circle know, I read quite some news. I try to mention at least once per day that I read something in the news, casually, in a conversation. And since commentary and reviewing is something else I like to do, I thought of starting a series where I write my thoughts about an article I read. A lot of them will be related to China, since that is one of the topics I follow most closely.

Africa’s Donkeys Are Coveted by China. Can the Continent Protect Them?
New York Times

I am a big fan of donkeys. When I was little, we would go on ‘donkey holidays’ which meant spending two weeks hiking through France with some donkeys to carry our luggage. At that time I was still small enough to also be allowed to ride the donkeys from time to time.

Unsurprisingly I was a horse girl during middle and high school, but donkeys have a different atmosphere. Their big ears, small hoofs and stumbling gait endears them in a way that is distinctly different from horses. It also helps that they are pack animal and you will most often see them with an inordinate amount of stuff on their backs while seemingly carrying it without any complaining.

Thus, it really surprised me to read that donkeys are an ingredient used in Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM). Generally, I have heard more about the exotic things they need to heal anything wrong with the body. From deer antlers to pangolin scales, let alone the range of plants that could be needed.

Similar to many other TCM ingredients that are touted as absolutely vital to heal certain ailments, it is interesting to think how much these consist of ‘standard’ natural materials such as keratin and collagen. I have bitten my nails for decades, I am not sure if that made me much healthier than I would have been otherwise.

What really suprised me, was the fact that donkeys cannot reproduce or breed easily. This sent me on a quick Google search, which after the decently informative but slightly too activist Donkey Sanctuary website, led me to the American Association of Equine Practicers website which states in its opening paragraph “Donkey medicine can be fun and rewarding and a break from routine equine practice.”

My two main random fun facts on donkey reproduction that I learned were the following. A female donkey is called a Jenny, a male is called a Jack or jackass. It would be quite funny to do this in Dutch as well. That we do not only talk about Jut and Jul as the standard Dutch people, but that they also refer to a bull and cow? What fun!

Donkeys are pregnant for a long, long, long time. Between 372-374 days. In my ears, having heard plenty of pregnancy tales in the past years, that sounds terrible. More than a year in this state, is awful. No wonder donkeys do not breed that easily. No fun, but it is a fun fact.

What is it with people liking plants?

Okay, I accept that walking in the forest, on a grassy mountain or at a sandy beach feels great. The sun on your face, wind through your hairs and fresh air in your lungs. But what I have never really understood, is why people insist on trying to bring it inside the house.

When I was small, my parents tried to ensure I would be a devoted garden girl. It failed miserably. I dutifully pulled out weeds and tore grasses from in between tiles and watered some greenery. But after getting one plant and having it die on me within 2 months, I was away for 2 weeks and nobody watered it for me, I quickly decided this was way too high maintenance for me.

Since then, I have never had any plants in my house. I remember clearly that a few years ago my mom gave me a plant, which slightly offended me even as if she did not know I would never want such a thing, before I realized it was fake to my huge relief. I lived a blissful life without any plants in the house, up ’till a few years ago.

My current partner likes plants. He even rescued a plant from my former roommate whose plants were sort of perpetually dying. He gets happy when his flowers bloom, new roots grow and trims his plants lovingly. And he tries to sneak in more plants if I let down my guard. Luckily, I am always on high alert.

When he was on holiday for a month last year, I needed to actively remind myself that the plants needed water. It was quite the stress. Also, we now sometimes have annoying flies in the house, although that is good to train my motor skills I guess.

Moving to our new place last year, we even got some plants from friends. Where I would normally have to donate these to my parents or bring them to a plant shelter, they could actually get spot somewhere in our new home. All in all, I am not complaining and I know it is a luxury that I can be surrounded by plants without having to do something for it. But watering the plants spontaneously? I am not a plant mom.