Blown away by Ishiguro

I've always thought of Kazuo Ishiguro as an odd kind of writer. Japanese but kinda British -- dry and old-fashioned -- as a novelist. His new book "Never Let Me Go" was a strange read. In most parts, it read like a Enid Blyton children's book about the perils of boarding school. But it never let you underestimate it because you always sensed there was something sinister beneath its bedtime prose.

Today, stuck on a 5-hour flight to New York with no entertainment, I pushed through the last 40% of the book. And I was blown away, re-reading its 2-page ending over and over again with a jumble of questions and emotions I have not felt in a long time reading fiction.

And Ishiguro fans say this is one of his weaker novels...

Until the sun comes down over Santa Monica Boulevard

So L.A. -- everytime I talk about the place, I disparage it. I say it's too spread out and I don't like the fact that you need a car to get anywhere. I say I don't like it because it's loud and trashy. I think the whole California Dreaming thing is overrated and too cheesy and fake for my liking...

But everytime I visit L.A., I leave thinking that even though it's not the most sophisticated place in the world, it really is quite liveable. The weather is nice and being able to drive to some 80 different cities within L.A. county, all with their own vibe, makes it not unlike sprawling mega-cities like Tokyo or New York. It's also really a lot of cosmopolitan than I think it is, the neighbourhoods are genuinely funky and full of character and people seem to be in a genuinely good mood -- all friendly, bright and shiny.

This visit to L.A. was also special for someone I met there online, a 285-pound bear called C., who turned out to be one of the sweetest and most endearing people I ever met. But that's a story for another day...

Hicksville

I am in Hicksville. Hicksville.
And I will be here for 4 nights.

This is probably payback for all the fun I had in Chicago. To be consigned to a hotel in a small town in the South that is home to just 100,000 people and ONLY known for its wholesale furniture showrooms. There is no gym. And because there is so much space, we cannot get to anywhere from the hotel without a car, and there is just the mall across the street for us to go to. Ok, it's High Point North Carolina's biggest mall, but Ms Morocco and I got so depressed walking through it just now. As we sat on a bench and waited for the rest to appear for dinner at the food court, all we could do was jabber on and on about how great Chicago was, and swear about how we will rush to the malls in LA everyday straight from the end of our meetings.

Tomorrow is Sunday and we have the whole day free until a dinner appointment at 5.15pm. Choice of activities: (a) going to church to worship, (b) going to the mall (again), (c) going swimming at our program coordinator's country club and (d) going to some museum that records the history of the town of Winston-Salem. Very depressing. At least I have an Internet connection.

I've decided to use this time to finally finish my National Day Supplement essay. Just spent the entire night listening to "I am Singaporean" podcasts or reading blog entries that were inspired by mr brown. Some of them nearly brought tears to my eyes. And they were all great inspiration for the piece I hope to finish by Tuesday.

P.S> There is a Victoria's Secret store here at the mall. I have a lot of time on my hands, so I'll take orders if anyone wants anything. Please give exact model number and sizing ah...

Atop The Sears Tower

Note to self: Do NOT ever pay money to go to the top of skyscrapers just to look at the view. Today, in between two meetings in Chicago's downtown financial district, I was persuaded to go up with 4 others to the top of the Sears Tower. It was a clear day and the Sears is like the 3rd tallest building in the world. And since there were no shops around and nothing better to do, I thought: why not?

It was so NOT worth the US$11.95 I ponied up. First of all, it took forever to get up there. You had to sit through a film about how the tower was designed and built. As the story unfolds, you realise there wasn't a vision at all. Sears-Roebuck decided to consolidate all their operations into one tower and also sold a lot of office space to would-be occupants. The design of the building was actually thought of in a bar when the architect took 9 cigarettes and held them in a bunch in his hand, he then varied the height of some of the cigarettes, some shorter, some taller and voila -- the Sears Tower was born. Because some of the 9 square "tubes" were shorter, the taller ones had to be extra tall(to satisfy the psf requirement stipulated in advance). Soon, they realised they were close to becoming the tallest building in the world, so they decided to build extra long antennae and claim the crown. There's humour in this goof-ball story if you look hard enough.

Luckily, Chicago is blessed with quite nice buildings and parks etc, so the view from above was not as much a waste of time. But in all other respects, it was the same boring view of roads criss-crossing tiny buildings and houses down below. Of course, it was packed with families with kids all running around. And loud elevator muzak was blaring (Why? Doesn't ethereal ambient music work better for that "top of the world/in the clouds" feeling?). After about 2 minutes I was bored, but had to stay the requisite half-an-hour for everyone to get their money's worth.

Chicago is a great city but we hardly had any time to check it out. I was especially sore to have missed the Wolfgang Tillmans exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art (which incredibly, closes at 5pm even in summertime) on account of the meetings ending a bit late. Tonight it's off to Boystown for one last hurrah (the Gay Games ends tomorrow). The ability to go a bar by yourself and spend several hours there is a skill that will pay handsome dividends in future, I think. I haven't quite mastered it yet, but I'm getting there...

Added later:

So I go to Sidetrack tonight and guess who I run into: 3 Singaporeans who were part of the 19-strong Singapore Gay Games team. I recognised one of them (I had a brief but satisfying encounter with him in a Singapore sauna many years ago). Anyway I said hello and we hung out. Have to say that the Chicago gay scene really is quite fun (how many gay communities can boast of having their own street) and there are so many cute local guys. I was introduced to one tonight that was so impossibly cute -- my height, big arms, babyfaced blonde with requisite goatee and beard, nice big tummy and big calves showing from under his long shorts... Yum!!

Goodbye Chicago, I hardly knew thee!

My trip to Boystown

More than a week after the course started, I felt a desperate urge this evening to be with gay people once again. So I went to Boystown, one of two key gay areas in Chicago all by my lonesome self (I think neither Mr Poland nor Mr Peru is gay, by the way). It was interesting walking down the main street (Halsted Street) looking at all the bars, shops and restaurants. It is really a very gay street -- everyone walking on the street and eating in the shops is gay and the lampposts are actually painted in rainbow colours. After some exploring, I went into a bar called Sidetrack, which looked really happening. Good choice. Chicago guys are cute in general, and there were plenty of very good looking bears around. I later found out it was a special Bears Meet and Greet party for the Gay Games, but who's complaining?

Overall, I was very impressed with Chicago as a city. I never knew there would so many beautiful buildings and so many wonderful pieces of art scattered along the streets. It looks like a great place for shopping, yet it has really nice parks and outdoor areas. Even the university was interesting -- it was the place nuclear energy was invented and its home to the first ever house that Frank Lloyd Wright ever built. Definitely a city to come back to.

Beep, beep, beep!

So I think there are two other gay men in the group. Judge for yourself and let me know!!

Mr Poland (Marcin) is a quiet, nerdy sort of guy but very nice and polite. My gaydar went up the first day I met him. But just now after dinner, we found ourselves discussing - just the 2 of us walking a little way behind the rest - the Gay Games in Chicago. Our facilitators had earlier in the day told us that we could not share rooms in Chicago because the Games meant a shortage of free rooms in the city; and everyone had found it amusing in a derogatory sort of way. Anyway, Marcin suddenly started talking about how there is a big debate about gay rights in Poland, how the annual "equality" march was banned by the conservative Polish Prime Minister and how other European gay groups had given monetary and political support for the march to continue despite Government opposition. I gave my spiel, of course, about the gay scene in Singapore, making it clear that I was an intersted party that was following developments closely. I even told him that I went to London Pride this year. Marcin then talked more about the gay scene in Warsaw and concluded "It should be interesting in Chicago, I'm looking forward to it...". I think he knows far too much to be straight...

Mr Peru (Alvaro) is the cutest guy in the whole group -- a tall stocky baby-faced Spanish looking cub. He's soft-spoken but has aggressive views, which I find kinda sexy. I suspected he was gay because he disappeared for the weekend in DC, saying that he was "meeting friends". Later it turns out that he spent a lot of time that weekend in Dupont Circle, which is the main gay area in DC of course. Just now over lunch, when probed by Nicaragua and Morocco, he said "I have no wife, no girlfriend, no nothing", adding that he nearly got married some years ago but the relationship wasn't going anywhere. His ex-girlfriend is married now (sounds familiar?). Later, he said to me privately: "So you are also not married, no wife, no girlfriend, no nothing -- the same as me, huh?" Still, I'm not so sure about Alvaro. Other than the hints above, I found out that he likes film (Lee Ang and PT Anderson are our common faves, I discovered at breakfast) and clubbing (he has apparently been to the gay-friendly Sound Factory a lot). I think he could be gay, but it's hard to tell with these slightly crazy, fun-loving Latin Americans.

I'm gonna try to probe Poland a bit more tomorrow. It will be nice to go out to the bars together in Chicago :)

On the verge of burning

So it was 37 freakin degrees Celsius today and will be something like 40 tomorrow. I just walked back two blocks from the gym at 10pm and I was already out of breath and sweating like a pig. I like summer but this is much much more than I bargained for!!

Speaking of hot, I've discovered a new species to rival the J-bear -- The Black Cub. I saw two today, and the one in the Bloomberg office was so hot, I physically stopped dead in my tracks and in mid-sentence while talking to the woman that was accompanying me on the visit. Given that DC residents are 65% African-American (one of many new facts I picked up on this trip), there are more than enough variations on the shiny-lean-black-muscle-machine stereotypes in the gym. Black cubs have same kind of appeal as Malay cubs, except that their bodies are softer and they look more brutal. But this is in turn counterbalanced by a kind of boyishness that their short height and a slight chubbiness in their faces gives them. Brutal and boyish -- woof!

Oh yes, by the way, after griping incessantly about how I will not get to gym this whole trip, it turns out that guests in the DC hotel I'm staying in get to use this huge commercial gym 2 blocks away. So I have been going every day. And all the hotels in the rest of the cities have some kind of gym onsite :)

"99.9 Farenheit degrees, stable now with rising possibilities
It could be normal but it isn't quite
Could make you want to stay awake at night
You seem to me, like a man on the verge of burning
99.9 Farenheit degrees"
- 99.9F, Suzanna Vega

July 17th

Had we still been together, C. and I would have celebrated our 6th anniversary today.

I should be crying, but I just can't let it show
I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking
Of all the things I should've said that I never said
All the things we should've done that we never did
All the things that you needed from me
All the things that you wanted for me
All the things that I should've given but I didn't.
Oh, darling, make it go away.
Just make it go away now.
- "This Woman's Work", Kate Bush

Tonight's Challenge

Another day another challenge, and tonight's was no less difficult. At the insistence of Mrs Oman (whom I really want to slap), 9 of us went for dinner at a Japanese place that goes karaoke at 9.30pm.

And so after a few drinks, Survivor WTO kinda turned into a raucous Eurovision Song Contest. Everyone was forced to sing, so the Omani rendition of "My Way" was soon followed by a disastrous Polish version of "Hotel California" and a (much better) attempt by (the very cute) Mr Philippines at Barry Manilow's "Mandy" (he's my roommate in Chicago and LA :) hehe).

I was of course faced with a split second choice of what to sing. Many factors to consider: It had to be a song that I could sing well in a restaurant full of people staring at these loud, strange foreigners in the corner. It had to be trendy (to distinguish myself clearly as one of the young ones); indicative of good taste in music (especially to a young Washington DC crowd); yet not too unknown so as to bore the people at my table. Thank God the moment I received the huge 200-page book, the pages fell open at the perfect song. And I knew I had made a good choice when after the first verse, the super glamorous and exceedingly popular Miss Nicaragua (think Fiona Apple) gushed "I LOVE this song!!" and rushed up to join me at the mic.

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)
Green Day

Another turning point a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist directs you where to go
So make the best of this test and don't ask why
It's not a question but a lesson learned in time
It's something unpredictable but in the end it's right
I hope you had the time of your life

So take the photographs and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos and memories and dead skin on trial
For what it's worth it was worth all the while
It's something unpredictable but in the end it's right
I hope you had the time of your life

This is stressful...
Next challenge: Trying to make the most out of the fact that Chicago is hosting the 7th Gay Games (and thousands of cute international gay athletes), yet somehow not letting on that I am gay :(

Survivor WTO

What happens when you put 20 people from 20 different countries together in close proximity for 29 days AND have them talk about international trade all the time? Yes, you've guessed it -- Survivor-meets-WTO!! I kid you not, thank GOD for all those nights I spent learning watching people slug it out on desert islands, cos this is exactly what it feels like 4 days into our USA adventure.

A Survivor moment:

(12 of us walking the streets, trying to find the tube station that will get us to the Smithsonian.)

Mr Venezuela (the oldest, nicest and therefore the "leader"): "Come my children, follow pappa!"
Miss Nicaragua (leading the way): "That's the station! Just cross over..."
Mr Bahrain (mumbling): "This is not the right station." (Everyone ignores him)
Mr Singapore (me) to Mr Philippines: "Er... this is not the right station. We want Farragut West, not Farragut North."
Mr Philippines: "Oh, really? Someone better say then..." (keeps quiet)
Meanwhile, at Farragut North...
Miss Nicaragua: "Hmm, the station gates are closed. Maybe the subway isn't working on Saturday."
Mr Bahrain: "This is not the right station." (Everyone ignores him)
Mrs Oman (earnestly takes out subway guide): "No, it says the Metro is open from 6am to 12pm on Saturdays and Sundays..."
Miss Nicaragua: "Oh well if the subway is closed maybe we should take a bus..."
Mr Bahrain (louder now): "Of course the subway is open. How can it be closed on a weekend? Anyway, this is not the right station."
Mr Singapore to Mr Venezuela (pappa): "Uh, Bahrain is right. This station goes to Chinatown (pointing to map), you need Farragut West, the orange line..."
Mr Venezuela (shouting): "Okay guys, this is not the right station!"
Mr Bahrain (shouting now and leading the way): "That's what I've been trying to say!"
Miss Nicaragua: "But we are walking backwards to hotel, no?"
One block later...
Miss Nicaragua asks passer-by: "Excuse me, where is the subway?"
Fat black woman: "Right there!" (points across street. Right station this time, but gates are again closed.)
Miss Nicaragua: "So how can we get in? Is the subway open?"
Mrs Oman: "Yes, the subway is open. I just checked!"
Mr Bahrain: "Of course the subway is open. It's just that this exit is closed!"
Fat black woman: "You have to find another entrance, my dear."
Miss Nicaragua: "But where?"
Fat black woman: "Er, I don't know..."
Mr Bahrain to his sidekick, Mr Kuwait: "This is not the entrance we used yesterday. It's up there, right?"
Mr Kuwait: "Yes, yes."
One block later, we are at Farragut West entrance, with escalators going down.
Mr Bahrain: "You see! I told you... I think we need a new leader because Henrique (Mr Venezuela) always gives wrong directions!!"
Mr Venenuela, patting Mr Bahrain on back: "Yes, yes, Mr Bahrain..."
(and then to me...): "I think we need more discipline, Ignacio, like in your country. This crowd is very hard-to-control..."

As you can see, right now my "Survivor WTO" strategy is to "fly under the radar" and be helpful and nice to the people obviously in power (Venezuela, Nicaragua, Morocco -- who have dubbed me "The Bodyguard" haha) and collectively hiss at those who are clearly unpopular (Bahrain). Much like MFA's strategy really.

There was a classic WTO moment too, when all of us tried for half an hour to ratify Nigeria's suggestion that we have a special session to swap notes and ask questions about our respective countries). But that is a story for when I come back!

One Word

My current favourite song, in the post London-MegaWoof party haze, is now "One Word" by Kelly Osbourne (yes, Ozzy Osbourne's daughter). Shirtless and mouthing the prophetic-cheesy lyrics in Vauxhall at 4am, surrounded by muscle and fur on all sides, I reached out towards the rays of the laser strobe, and felt the touching moment of my life.

One Word

One word breaks the code of silence,
Silence tells me all I need to know.
One Word, One Word, tells me everything I need to know.

One word driven in to madness,
Madness driven by the depths below.
One Word, One Word, tells me everything I need to know

It's not the way that I want it,
It's just the way that I need it.
Day after day
It's not the way that I want it,
It's just the way that I need it.
Day after day

One lie tells a thousand stories,
The greatest stories that were ever told.
One Lie, One Lie, tells the greatest stories ever told.

One man can predict the future,
a future journey in to outer space.
One Man, One Man, a future journey in to outer space.

WOOH!!

Moving On

It's 7am now in London. In 2 hours' time, I will be on a train to the airport, going back to Singapore. It was a really relaxed trip this time around and I didn't have the shadow of the break-up hanging over me so heavily. I had more time to reflect on my life as it is, and I think it's time to really move on.

I've come to realise that I've been adrift the days and weeks since March when we broke up. It's like that Beth Orton song says: "Every day is just like the day before, All alone a million miles from shore." Stuck in emotional limbo, not being able to move forward or back, I did many things, but with the unstated aim of not doing anything at all. I went travelling to London, Tokyo and Bangkok in quick succession. I've gone out with quite a few guys, had sex with even more, and spent a weekend with a local celebrity. You could say I've used this opportunity to check off quite a few items on life's To Do List, things I never would have experienced if I was still with C. In the process, I think I've come to a better understanding of who I am, even though I'm still not all that sure about what I want. But I think the soul searching has to come to an end at some point. And after three months of floating about hoping to come back to the same shore I left, I think it's time now to raise the sails or whatever, and set a different course.

The other thing I've realised, after going to a series of bear bars and clubs in London, is that I'm nowhere near big enough as I should be. Yesterday at the King's Arms I felt like a puny Asian, not helped by the fact that there was a big muscle Malaysian guy there that looked like a rugby player, but was only an ok size for the place. So no matter what anyone else says, I have to get bigger and I have decided that I must shoot for the 88kg mark this year like I originally planned. Eventually I will probably settle for a weight that's closer to 100kg I think. It's always been my childhood dream to be a massive, fat guy, now that I'm single must as well go for it while I still can.