One Day in Makati…

Normally, the idea of going to First Academy of Computer Arts (FACA) is like visiting a university I’ve graduated from. My visit to FACA yesterday, however, was unlike those days when I would go to my university just to loaf around while wallowing in nostalgia. I went there with a purpose, fully intent to have that dealt with lickety-split, and without scanning to see if anyone I knew was there so that I could high-five with them and pretend that we were so thrilled by this sort of accidental meeting. I want my only goal to be met quickly. Professionally. No digression. Without commotion. Yes, I was (still am) busy. Couldn’t stay too long. I’ve completed my final project since nearly half a year ago, and I’ve since been waiting to get the certificate that recognizes me as a student who has indeed completed his course. My classmate got his certificate last week, and because we both submitted our project the same day, I thought mine should be ready. I was wrong, a conclusion thoroughly predictable from my way of writing. People working in FACA told me that I had to sign a request form if I want to get a certificate. I was befuddled. How inefficient! Shouldn’t my final project be enough a hint of my wanting to get a certificate? What other reasons could I have for submitting that?

I left FACA, and I thought that since I was in Makati anyway, I should go to Greenbelt.

One of my stops was the bookstore, Powerbooks. Frankly, I don’t like this bookstore anymore. I used to like it a great deal back when I was in college, but right now it bores me, as it doesn’t have the books from the authors that I like. It lacks a decent collection of graphic novels, sci-fi and fantasy books, and the only kind of book it is superabundant with are the business kind, which, frankly, people my kind don’t dig that much. But that wasn’t what drove me out of the bookstore yesterday. What drove me out was the music. Okay, I know it sounds really finicky, but hear me out! I just don’t understand why Philippines’ bookstores are so insistent in playing phone-on-hold musuck on their radio. The idea is that they should play songs that people can put in the back of their minds so as not to disturb any reading, but can’t they at least choose the ones that do not sound so revolting?! What I heard was a disgusting, stomach-curling, bossa nova rendition of Stevie Wonder’s “You are the Sunshine of My Life”! Yech! Since I’m a big fan of all the albums and all the songs Stevie Wonder released on his classic period, some things when done forever earns my disrespect. You do not, for instance, try to take any music from his classic Talking Book album just for the sake of pandering to a certain demographic. And who exactly digs those bossa nova versions of popular songs anyway?!

I’m sick of these Bossa Nova moron artists thinking that just because Bossa Nova is (was) huge, it grants them the permission to cover songs by singing in a monotonous asthmatic voice backed by repetitive and predictable instruments. I don’t wanna hear  bossa nova pollutions of Eleanor Rigby, With or Without You, I Can’t Get No Satisfaction, and You are the Sunshine of My Life. To give you an idea how bad it was, play the Stevie Wonder’s original.

You Are The Sunshine Of My Life (Stevie Wonder)

Now imagine a Bossa Nova harpy singing that “I feel like this is the beginning” line. You just don’t believe her saying it – you don’t believe anything is beginning - because she doesn’t inflect, and with her lazy singing you’d think that she was trying to say “I feel like this is just me sleeping”. It’s that bad.

The remaining of my time in Greenbelt was less memorable. I went to Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf and found out that chocolate fudge cake + mocha mudslide = chocolate overdose, which made me sick. Yeesh, why did I even try those combinations despite never being a big fan of chocolates? (By the way, I ate that cake for Perlette since I promised her that I’d celebrate her birthday by eating a cake for her – it sucks that we’re countries apart.) I also found it incredibly hard to read any book when a coffee shop plays stupid electronica music cobbled lazily with Garageband by people devoid of any musical talent.

Anyway, my intent to shop for certain things in Greenbelt was fruitless. It’s here where I have to ask for some help. The “certain things” I spoke of were actually gifts, and I’m clueless about what specifically. See, I have to give gifts to some women friends. Emphasis on friends, meaning they’re not people whom I have any romantic inclinations. The problem is, I don’t know what to give them. So, guys, help me? I need suggestions.

Born to Run

Once upon a time and such a good time that it was there was a guy who called himself Nightdreamer and this guy who called himself Nightdreamer often had too much spare time and because he had too much spare time he wrote on this blog to fend off his boredom.

Okay, breathe.

Since the month of August of year 2008, though, he couldn’t concentrate on doing the things he used to do, like writing, working and studying. In the many times that he attempted to do any of the three, he would find himself absorbed in reveries. Some of his reveries had to do with imagining himself playing musical instruments that he didn’t play in real life. He dreamed of being a saxophonist, a pianist, a trumpeter, and a violinist. Right before beginning this blog post, he saw a youtube video and, though he trailed off again to a dreamland where he instead of that girl was playing the violin, he found himself utterly awed. Yes, he was awed, and it’s not because for one to describe how pretty the girl was one would have to use up all the intensifiers can be found in a thesaurus. Oh, no, even if one were crazy enough not to look at her, one would still be amazed at the beauty of the music she was playing. Get your speakers, turn the volume high, and be floored:

It feels quite liberating to be able to come up with a new post again (and to ditch the 3rd person way of writing. Sheesh, Nightdreamer, you’re such a wannabe)! I am, however, sad because I will only be revelling for a very short time. I’ve been very busy for two weeks - even if it doesn’t stop me from daydreaming - and it seems like my being busy will carry over until the end of next month. This past two weeks at work, I had too many projects to finish. And now that I have most of them dealt with, I got a new mission, one that is admittedly stupid: A friend of mine lent me 5 books – Something Wicked This Way Comes (Ray Bradbury), Coraline (Neil Gaiman), Mockingbird (Walter Tevis), Flowers for Algernon (Daniel Keyes), and The Lathe of Heaven (Ursula K Le Guin) - and I love being lent books; the problem is that I am required to finish all of them in a week! I also have to write letters to more than 20 persons. Insane, noh?

So for the next few days I won’t be updating my blog very frequently. I’m just saying that, if anyone cares to know. Before leaving, though, I want to suggest a blog for all of you. Go here. The author was my classmate. His blog is about everything geeky, and it’s a must read for those of you who want to be updated with geek movies, comics, videogames, and Pinay celebrities.

Visions

I’ll tell you why nerds like me want you to give science fiction a chance. It’s true that we are obsessed with seeing epic battles comprised of spaceships, laser guns and lightsabers. It’s true that we geek out when we see what technological marvels we may have in the future. It’s true for some of us that we drool when we see women wearing body-hugging spacesuits. Yes, we like all those very much, but they’re not enough reasons for us to endure as fans of sci-fi. We endure because of sci-fi’s visions. You see, many sci fis create worlds that, while having their own rules, maintain semblances to our real world. Within such premises, then, sci fis challenge us to think of how our world may become like their worlds. They then ask us if we can do something to either ensure or prevent such thing from happening; and should we have to live in a world like theirs, they guide us on how we can survive.

In short, sci fis compel us to examine our culture’s pros and cons.

Let me use Wall-E as an example. If you look at the trailer and you believe that it’s a tale of a lonely robot trying to find the meaning of its existence in an abandoned earth, you’re only half-right. True, those kind of stories can be moving, and they can make Wall-E a very pleasing movie. And I’ll say it now: Wall-E is a crowd-pleaser because of its special effects and its choreography – they are attributes that all Pixar movies share.

But when you sit down and think about what happens in the movie – and like I said, the titular robot’s solitary living is only half the movie’s story – you will realize just how breathtakingly intelligent it is. That is so, because Wall-E is a Cliffs Notes of the greatest sci fi stories, in that it tackles all their weighty topics. It cautions us not to become too hedonistic lest we create a negative utopia (as can be read in Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World). It warns us not to watch too much tv lest we become too detached from reality (that would be from Ray Bradbudy’s Fahrenheit 451). It urges us not to become too dependent on technology lest we become a bunch of lazy and unthinking individuals (see Jack Williamson’s With Folded Hands). It reminds us not to be too reliant on robots because they can be stubborn and they may harm us when we change our minds (as made known in Arthur C Clarke’s 2001 Space Odyssey). It urges us to preserve our environment, or else we may have to desert our planet. Finally, it advices us to maintain our loving and compassionate ways, because these qualities are what really bring the good in us, and that as long as we have them our world can be saved.

That Wall-E encompasses this many subject matter makes it a movie that everyone – children and adults alike – must see. We, sci fi fans, couldn’t be happier in knowing that the things we read about are coming through in a movie as respectable as this.

Mess About

I am getting annoyed! For the past two weeks, I have done nothing. Zero, that big fat oval bigger than the nothingness it signifies. Okay, so maybe I have done a few trifling chores, but I don’t think I’ve done deeds that contributes to the world’s greater good, or even just my own.

That means I have no new ramblings recorded, no new movies watched, no new books read, no new friends gained, and no new illustrations drawn. I’ve also become antisocial, and, mind you, I find that disturbing. Last Wednesday is an example of how withdrawn I’ve become. I had an umbrella then, and so I was protected from a turbulent storm. One person not quite as prepared as I was for the ugly weather approached me and sought my assistance - that is, asking if he could share a part of my umbrella. I acceded. He then started making small chats with me, but he was only met with my unenthusiastic “yeahs”. I didn’t even smile, or make eye contacts. Needless to say, he went away without giving or receiving business cards. Another example of my nasty reclusive ways happened last Monday, when I had a falling out with one of my long time friends. I don’t even want to go into details; all I can say is that it’s been a while since I last lost so much trust on someone I used to think as sincere.

I just don’t know what is happening to me and why I’m feeling haggard and dead. I look without really seeing or eat without really tasting, and when I go out with beautiful women, I don’t feel any magic (okay, I lied about that last part.) Oftentimes when my boredom has become unbearable to me, I would take a stroll to the mall, waste money on cheap thrills, and yet go home unsatisfied. At times I’ve wanted to be grumpy, but whenever I come close to that I just become really tired and sleepy. And speaking of sleepy, I yawned many times while typing this post. 

Am I being served with this epiphany, that my life is very boring that it’s making me fall asleep? 

Well, I can do one of two things to rid myself of this lack of motivation. First, is that I can dance whatever dances tribal people do when they hope to get the stars to align for them. It’s a good workout, and people will find the spectacle of unintelligible shouting and inconsequential chest-slapping quite impressive, if not sophisticated or cultural. Now that sounds like a fine idea, except the sight of me yelping and flailing is not something I’d like my readers – all three of them – to carry to their graves. 

Second, is that I can try to change myself and set goals for myself. Pressure myself into improving the things I do. I can try to make my writing better. I can try to draw more. I can review what I’ve been taught in my web design classes. If I have time left, maybe I can try to learn playing musical instruments. All I know is that I’m old enough to have a complete control to where my life is heading, and it is my responsibility alone to change my life in such a way that I’ll never have to experience another one of these dead moments again.

Which means, time to play videogames.

Larftop

sonicboom: i have a question regarding taiwan nightdreamer: shoot.
sonicboom: are laptops there inexpensive?
nightdreamer: oh yes.
sonicboom: so i’ve heard
nightdreamer: pretty much 30% off from Phil’s price.
sonicboom: because I want to buy one this december
sonicboom: but i’m thinking where, dubai or taiwan or us
nightdreamer: yeah, tough choice
nightdreamer: the disadvantage for taiwan’s is,
nightdreamer: sometimes
nightdreamer: the laptops they sell are installed with Chinese windows
sonicboom: how about the keyboard? Are there chinese characters?
nightdreamer: so you may not understand it
sonicboom: @_@
nightdreamer: well, the chinese characters are there, but it’s all right since the English characters are also there

nightdreamer: but with windows that’s another story.
nightdreamer: it’s ok if you’re using mac, because you can switch languages anytime.

nightdreamer: but if it’s windows, you have to do a lot of adjusting

sonicboom: but I don’t want the Chinese characters crammed at the keyboard

nightdreamer: eh, i don’t even look at keyboards anymore when i type
nightdreamer: OH DEAR I’M BRAGGING! )
sonicboom: what a bragger!
nightdreamer: =))
sonicboom: i’m talking aesthetics man
nightdreamer: eh, then just obscure the Chinese chars with a black paint! ^_^
sonicboom: hahaha
sonicboom: scrape it off!
nightdreamer: or if it’s a white keyboard, use liquid correction pen!
sonicboom: actually it’s the same when I buy in the middle east
sonicboom: there may be hieroglyphics
nightdreamer: and if you press certain combinations, something might detonate! nightdreamer: nah, kidding.
sonicboom: haha
sonicboom: yeah, type U+S
sonicboom: then boom!
nightdreamer: HAHAHAHAHA
nightdreamer: ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod! =)) WINNER!

These Foolish Things Remind Me of You

The dark and stormy evenings have taken their departures for now, but to me, they departed just a night too late. Seems like my body was ill prepared for going from a country (Taiwan) that’s having its summer season to another (Philippines) that’s having its rainy season. At Wednesday, I was sneezing like mad. By Thursday, I had to skip work to keep this cold from escalating to a fever.

I should be thankful that my sickness didn’t turn out that bad, and all I needed to do was to stay away from air-conditioned rooms for two days. Being bedridden meant that I either got to sleep a lot, or that I got to lie on my bed, fully awake, for a long time. For most part, it’s the latter. For most part, that’s for the worse, because for being awake yet being too sick for most activities, I had only a thing to do to pass the time, and that was to think.

So I began recalling the things that happened since last Sunday, the day I came back to Philippines. The flight I took was less than spectacular; being delayed by stormy weathers, I was airborne for an hour longer than scheduled.

Come Monday, I was working again. I felt welcomed by my coworkers, and I had some animated conversations with them about how my vacation went. Things didn’t look too bad.

It wasn’t until I made my rounds to some of my most visited blogs that I started to feel nauseous again. And how fitting a word nauseous is to describe what I felt about our president’s State of the Nation Address. Aside from that, there’s Bangsamoro, which has been sounding less and less fabulous as each day passes. There are also all the verbal abuses going on in Filipino Voices, and, frankly, I think I’ve had enough of the misanthropist comments from one of its most “prolific” authors.

Oh, but that’s not all, because the Pinoy blogging community always has something to show about human conditions. First, it tells you that we are so wont to nitpick: I’ve read more than a dozen of entries lecturing people on how to behave in plurk, as if what goes on in plurk has so paramount an importance. Second, it tells you that when people argue a point, they have to intensify their stance by using swear words: we can no longer advice others to grow up, now we have to ask others to f the s-of-a-b-ing grow yo ass up. Third, it tells you that if someone popular makes enemies, everyone will jump to the popular one’s defense without even examining the reality of the situation: unsurprisingly, I just witnessed another blog “turf” war originating from a disdainful prolific blogger; I was too lazy to fully investigate, but that one looked petty, and of course no one has ever thought that practicing tolerance may just solve a lot of problems. Fourth, it tells you that some people make a scene just for the sake of making a scene: and what could be better examples of that than moaning about plurk, posting cuss-ridden comments, and starting blog wars?

Sigh. Welcome back, o normal life. I’m so thrilled to see you again!

I may have too prematurely come back to my normal life. Maybe that’s how everyone feels after having a great vacation, but I’ve never as intensely pined to return to the days that have just passed. I find it odd, because I was never this emotionally attached to Taiwan, yet I just left it so reluctantly.

Of course, I feel all that because of Synergy. At any time, I would remember, with so much lucidity, all the things its members have done: Kim would tirelessly lead the group. Jonathan would work so hard in setting up the audio equipments. Jesse would lend everyone his unending supply of earphones. Colton would impersonate Bush. Lindsay S would read her Ruruoni Kenshin manga. Katie would say how boring she is (and I would disagree). Kyle would laugh at the gibberish the bus driver mutters. Laurel and Alexi would take me to the stage and mess my messy hair. Michelle would praise my sister. Jared would tease my sister. Randy would talk to me about pretty much everything. Bergandee would haggle with the supercute vendor from Shimending. Benjamin would read his poem. DJ would exclaim my Chinese name. Natalie would hug me when I give her cranberry juices. Dave would play the Jay Chou and Jolin Tsai DVD’s he has bought. Allie would offer me her cereal bars and I would love how they taste (but no thanks to the licorice). Dantzel would tell me how she would welcome me to Utah anytime. Lindsay D would always dance so lithely. Vanessa would sing with such intense melismata. Together, they would perform for the crowd that pays for their concerts, but they would also sing just for a lucky couple. Oh how the memories of them cling!

They’re so lively, so overflowing with youthful energies. Now that they’re far from where I am, everything is quiet again. I miss them, and I can’t deny it. The dark and stormy evenings have departed now, but I still got sick. On the grander scheme, though, my getting sick may not be too bad, because I got to think about Synergy and to feel inspired again. Once I recover, I shall work toward reaching the higher ground that I should be reaching.

But whatever. I still miss Synergy; so badly at that, I don’t even know how to end this blog post, so I’ll just post an Aztec poem instead:

FRIENDSHIP

Like a quetzal plume, a fragrant flower,

friendship sparkles:

like heron plumes, it weaves itself into finery.

Our song is a bird calling out like a jingle:

how beautiful you make it sound!

Here, among flowers that enclose us,

among flowery boughs you are singing.

A Week In Taiwan, Part 3: Snippings

Some points of observations and some snippets of the things that happened when I was in Taiwan…

* Monday I was forced to stay home today because there’s supposedly a typhoon, and the government suspends works and classes even on the slightest hints of typhoon. Zoos, museums, schools, government-owned establishments and concert halls were all shut down. That sucked, because I was to watch a show today at National Taiwan Hall.

If I were studying in this country, and then there was supposed to be a midterm exam that I wasn’t prepared for, and then suddenly at the very last minute of yesterday I received an announcement of class suspension, I’d “yay!” and then make today another day of pretending to review my lessons. But I don’t study in Taiwan. I don’t even work here. I’m a tourist! And I was being deprived of ways to fill my wanderlust.

We decided to take Synergy (see: previous post) to the places that remained open for business. First we went to Xinyi District, and then to Shimenting. To compensate for their cancelled performance of this day (yeah, they were the ones who were performing in National Concert Hall) they sang on both places. They were able to delight quite a few passersby, including news reporters from Taiwan TV, and then a Siberian husky and its owner. This Siberian husky barked when a song Synergy sang ended, as though responding to the music. You want to hear something incredibly moronic? The news reporter interviewed the owner of this Siberian husky instead of the choir it was responding to. What kind of priority was that? Apparently, in Taiwan, you can get 15 minutes of fame by being the owner of a dog!

Taiwan news is the stupidest thing ever known to man, and that’s a scary thought considering how many stupid things man knows.

* Inside of Taipei 101 (the world’s tallest skyscraper) is a clothing shop called Dolce and Gabbana. Their products are so overwhelmingly expensive: a jacket costs 4000 US Dollars. Who in the world has the money for that stuff anyway?

Its dressing room is supercool because mirrors surround it. When you take pictures in there, this is what comes out:

* Wednesday I have nothing but admiration to all of our tour guides, because they were deeply supportive to everyone. One of them, Perlette, is also a vegetarian, like my sister and me. Last Sunday, as she was ordering dinner for everyone, she remembered to choose the foods that all three of us can eat. It was her treat. She’s sweet like that.

So this Wednesday while on the way to the venue of the concert, I saw a vegetarian restaurant. I wanted to act gentlemanly to my sister and to Perlette, so I sneaked my way there. I so lovingly handpicked the best-tasting foods and paid for all of them with my own money. Once I was done buying the foods I was so happy and smug about doing nice deeds that I swaggered back to our concert hall’s lobby. It was then when I was told something that made me want to fall to the ground: Perlette also bought all 3 of us foods. My flight of knightly fancy was all in vain. Bah!

* The tour guides and I took some members of the Synergy to the Feng Chia Night Market in Taichung. Accompanying three Synergy members, I took a taxi. The driver, a person who did not speak English and thus needed me as his translator, was star-struck by those Americans. He kept asking me who these people are, and then he kept telling me about the history of Taichung, and then he started to tell me about how hard his life as a taxi driver was. Some time during this conversation (though it was more of a monologue, since all I did was say “yeah” ad nauseum) those guys started to make some ear-splitting chicken noises. So, the taxi sounded like this:

“You know the standard BOK (chicken noise) of living now is so BOK high BOK-KOK. Gas prices BOK are BOK soaring BOK-KOK (taxi driver pauses briefly). Yeah (my response) BOK Tell them I wish I could BOK go to Utah BOK-KOK to visit them. BOOOOOOK”

It went on like this for the next twenty minutes, and then to them I eventually shouted, “What the hell, guys!” I was laughed at.

* Benjamin loved the Chinese language. Someone told me that, while flying to Taiwan, he would ask some Chinese passengers about how to speak certain words. He even had a speech translated to Chinese so that he could deliver it onstage without needing a translator. He loved practicing that speech so much he eventually memorized his lines and delivered them effortlessly.

I love it when people of other countries are curious of the languages from where I am (Philippines and Taiwan, in my case). It’s a sign that people are taking the rudimentary steps to accepting a culture different to their own. In a very sad way, Ben is more interested in Chinese than some of my Filipino-Chinese friends, who do not even bother to learn Chinese and treat it like it’s a pointless language. No language ever has to be put up with being called pointless, especially by the people born to speak it.

* Thursday As I was doing my laundry, a guy came near me. This guy looked very much like Barry, who is our tour guide. Unlike Barry, he looked quite angry. He even treated his washing machine with much violence, slamming the lid as loudly as he could. All along I was wondering if anyone pissed on his cornflakes, which would’ve been sad, because at 1 AM this was too long a time to cry over pissed cornflakes. He got issues, indeed.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one who saw the Barry look-alike. On the next day, Lindsay told everyone that she thought this same wuss-pant was Barry. Because she liked teasing Barry, she kept calling his name aloud and commenting irreverently on what he’s wearing, as he was wearing only swimming trunks. When she realized she wasn’t talking to Barry but to a lookalike (doppelganger?), she went back to her room embarrassed, and then laughed inside like a loon (that’s according to her anyway). I imagine this must’ve been what angered the guy.

* Friday The concert in the park was over. I saw Jesse hovering around and I remembered him liking passion fruit juice, so I bought him a tetra pack of passion fruit juice. From there on I realized that I can be nice to the rest of them by buying each of them fruit juices. So I got a lot tetra packs of cranberry, grapes, apple, peach, passion fruit and orange juices. Giving them to the guys earned me thanks, but when I started giving them to the girls I was being hugged.

You know, you Asian girls should learn from that! I got a hug from these people by giving them a third-of-a-dollar worth of fruit juices; I can give the most expensive gifts to girls from Philippines and Taiwan and I still do not get any thanks! Where is the love, people?

* Saturday Somebody just pissed me off. I was inside National Taiwan Hall having dinner with all the stars that came to perform here this week. There was a waitress serving fruit juices. Being thirsty, I went to her to get a cup of fruit juice. She ignored me for more than five seconds, serving everyone else who came in later than I did and was not even in front of her. And when I finally spoke out about wanting a drink, she served me my drink without even looking at me.

Don’t you just love it when you’re being given such a poor service? I wasn’t asking to be treated like a VIP, but I didn’t need to be treated as an invisible man either, eh? It’s amazing how parties can winnow the people who keep it real from those who are fake and pretentious.

* Sunday It was way past midnight now and in only a few hours we will be departing from Taiwan. Every one of us was inside one room recollecting all of what happened. Tears were shed and hugs were given. All of the tourist guides were given a time to speak about what they’ve felt.

My speech sucked! I felt so stupid. I wanted to say something that’ll move everyone, but instead I got laughed at by saying that I was such a shy person who wanted to hide behind curtains. And then the rest of my speech was so full of incomplete thoughts, which, when you think about it, sort of resembles life.

* The foods that the Americans like are dumplings, meat buns, yakult, slurpee, man tou, and some of Taiwan’s indigenous fruits.

The foods that the Americans can’t stand are the stinky tofu, and the green beans ice popsicle.

* I miss them so. I wonder if they’ll ever come to the Philippines.

A Week In Taiwan, Part 2: Synergy

In Taipei, at the underground tunnels leading to subway stations, one can often see pedestrians - wearing busy if not dour expressions - walking briskly and fast, like they’re bent to, without delay, go someplace. Brummagem wares are ignored, bums are not spared any penny, and street musicians are paid no mind. But on one Sunday, July 27th of 2008, something strange happened inside the tunnels. Suddenly, people were not dashing out as fast as they could; but they were converging on a particularly noisy spot. They looked fascinated. They were watching singers and dancers from Utah who had come to perform all over Taiwan. Songs are sung, dances are danced, hands are clapped, and cheers are yelled. Synergy, as the group is called, was on a mission to inspire everyone with music, and this was the first day.

08 Set the Night to Music (Synergy)

I was one of the audiences, but what set me and another three apart from the rest of the spectators was that we travel with Synergy. We were their tour guides. Okay, a more accurate description is “Those other three are Synergy’s tour guides; Nightdreamer came along to pretend to be a tour guide like being a tour guide was a walter-mitty fantasy of Snoopy.” Meanwhile, I also felt stupid about myself. Yin Chu, tour guide #1, earned a magna cum laude in her college years, and she works in a UN-subsidized organization while moonlighting as a piano teacher. Barry, tour guide #2, is an international school graduate and is also a singer, and he is just about to go to New York University for college. Perlette, tour guide #3, is a singer/model/pianist and, despite being child of a French and a Taiwanese, can speak Filipino. Nightdreamer was tour (mis)guide #4 who, on most occasions, felt like hiding behind curtains; his greatest musical achievement is his playing a perfect “Mary Has a Little Lamb” with the 1-2-3 keys of a tone-dialed telephone (the lone audience of that performance is his own left ear). I was the only nonmusical person among the guides and the travelers. In a completely mediocre way I stood out!

Barry

Perlette

A random nobody posing with Yin Chu

The days went by like this: sightsee at daytimes, perform at nighttimes. We took Synergy from the north to the south of Taiwan, stopping to let them perform on venues that were both formal (like National Concert Hall [the Carnegie Hall of Taiwan], Sanchung Society Center, Churches of Latter Day Saints in Taipei and in Kaoshung, Sun Yat Sen Theater of Tai Chung, Yun Lin Theater, and in a Kaoshung’s park) and informal (like in an underground tunnel, outside the Shinkong Department Store of the Xinyi District, in a school of Kaoshung, and at a crossroad of Ximending). We also sent them to tourist spots like the Shilin Night Market, Taipei 101, Xinyi District, Ximending, Feng Chia Night Market, Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall, National Palace Museum, Long Shan Temple, Sun Moon Lake, and Holiday Jade and Flower Market.

Sorry for the name-drop overloads. I’ll atone by pictures!

THERE ARE A LOT OF PICTURES IN HERE! YOU’RE READY FOR THAT? THEN CLICK “MORE”!

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