The Soong Sisters Long, but worth it. Great introduction to the political history of China in the 20th Century. Three sisters marry into power and wealth. Watch it twice. Take notes. (recommended) In English.
Together A good depiction of Modern China. 14-year old protagonist. In Chinese. (somewhat recommended.)
Mongolian Ping Pong Long, but kind of fun. About three ten-year-old boys living in modern Mongolia. They make me smile. (recommended)
King of Masks A little slow, a little long, but a beautiful story with a twist. I’m a big sucker for this type of melodrama. Set in1930s China. (recommended)
The Inn of Sixth Happiness with Ingrid Berman. Well-done missionary tale set in 1920s. (recommended) In English.
The Sand Pebbles with Steve McQueen. In-land China in the 1920s. Will help you to understand US and Chinese relations during this critical time in world history. (recommended) In English
Mulan Yes it’s Disney animation, but the first fifteen minutes alone are full of all things Chinese. (highly recommended)
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
Chinese Movie Recommendations 1 of 2
If you are interested in learning a little bit about China but aren't up for reading a book, I have compiled a list of some of my favorite movies from and about China. Enjoy. Many of these are available at Blockbuster; all of them available through Netflix.
The Last Emperor In English. If you are only going to watch one movie about China, this is the one. Shows the end of 2000 years of dynastic rule and the emergence of the fledgling republic. Academy Award for Best Picture. A few scenes are not quite family-friendly. (must see)
To Live. Among my personal favorites. Heart-wrenching. Beautiful. Three generations in the life of a Chinese family set against the political backdrop of the 1930s to the 1960s. In Chinese with subtitles. (highly recommended)
Seven Years in Tibet with Brad Pitt, in English. Tells the true story of the current Dali Lama as a young boy. (highly recommended)
China: The Panda Adventure (Not to be confused with “The Amazing Panda Adventure”) In English. From the people at IMAX. Only 40 minutes. It’s about the first Westerner to bring a panda out of China (highly recommended)
Not One Less Good introduction to modern, rural China. About a young girl who has to serve as a substitute teacher in a poor, country school. Subtitled. (recommended)
The Road Home Beautiful. A simple love story set in a rural village starring Ziyi Zhang in her first feature film role. (recommended.)
The Last Emperor In English. If you are only going to watch one movie about China, this is the one. Shows the end of 2000 years of dynastic rule and the emergence of the fledgling republic. Academy Award for Best Picture. A few scenes are not quite family-friendly. (must see)
To Live. Among my personal favorites. Heart-wrenching. Beautiful. Three generations in the life of a Chinese family set against the political backdrop of the 1930s to the 1960s. In Chinese with subtitles. (highly recommended)
Seven Years in Tibet with Brad Pitt, in English. Tells the true story of the current Dali Lama as a young boy. (highly recommended)
China: The Panda Adventure (Not to be confused with “The Amazing Panda Adventure”) In English. From the people at IMAX. Only 40 minutes. It’s about the first Westerner to bring a panda out of China (highly recommended)
Not One Less Good introduction to modern, rural China. About a young girl who has to serve as a substitute teacher in a poor, country school. Subtitled. (recommended)
The Road Home Beautiful. A simple love story set in a rural village starring Ziyi Zhang in her first feature film role. (recommended.)
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Madam Blueberry
For much of our twenties and thirties, Julie and I spent a lot of time accumulating stuff. Early on in our marriage, we used to lie in bed and flip through catalogues point out end tables and patio furniture and rugs. Part of it was that it took a long time for the novelty of regular, adult-sized paychecks to wear off. Part of it was that we were going through a protracted nesting period where we were trying to set up a household. It also helped that we had no kids for the first six years of our marriage.
But somewhere along the line, somebody must have flipped a switch. Somewhere around the time we moved into our late thirties, the glitter of all that stuff started to fade. Shortly before we moved to Hong Kong, I came across a receipt for a piece of furniture Julie and I bought fifteen years ago. I had retro-active sticker-shock. I'm sure that back then it made complete sense to a couple with double incomes and no kids to spend that kind of money on a chunk of furniture, but we would never do that today. We would go to Ikea and buy the cheapest item they had.
So I took perverse pleasure in the idea that for two years we would be living with whatever we could fit into our sixteen suitcases. It was kind of a fun exercise to pare two decades of accumulated stuff -an entire household’s worth- down to a few suitcases and put the rest in storage. It forced us to ask ourselves “What do we really need to function?” It was rather liberating; we were freed from the tyranny of junk.
The process had the excitement that you had when you were a kid and you went camping. “We’re going to get by with just these few items? No way! Cool.” After we unpacked all of our possessions in August, our apartment had a certain spartan beauty to it. We had shelves with just one item on them. We had a kitchen drawer that housed just one utensil.
But, alas, I am sorry to announce that the march of progress seems to be inevitable. The accumulation of stuff has resumed. Granted, when we first got here, it was all understandable. We needed some pots and pans and a toilet brush and a rug for the kitchen. But then Julie bought a fleece pullover that was on sale, and we got the girls badminton rackets for Christmas, and we bought a piece of artwork to hang on our bare walls. . . and so it continues.
The fantasy of living like a modern-day, upscale Robinson Crusoe has died. Right back where we started.
The only difference now is that I have ever-expanding collections of junk on two continents instead of just one.
-Jack
But somewhere along the line, somebody must have flipped a switch. Somewhere around the time we moved into our late thirties, the glitter of all that stuff started to fade. Shortly before we moved to Hong Kong, I came across a receipt for a piece of furniture Julie and I bought fifteen years ago. I had retro-active sticker-shock. I'm sure that back then it made complete sense to a couple with double incomes and no kids to spend that kind of money on a chunk of furniture, but we would never do that today. We would go to Ikea and buy the cheapest item they had.
So I took perverse pleasure in the idea that for two years we would be living with whatever we could fit into our sixteen suitcases. It was kind of a fun exercise to pare two decades of accumulated stuff -an entire household’s worth- down to a few suitcases and put the rest in storage. It forced us to ask ourselves “What do we really need to function?” It was rather liberating; we were freed from the tyranny of junk.
The process had the excitement that you had when you were a kid and you went camping. “We’re going to get by with just these few items? No way! Cool.” After we unpacked all of our possessions in August, our apartment had a certain spartan beauty to it. We had shelves with just one item on them. We had a kitchen drawer that housed just one utensil.
But, alas, I am sorry to announce that the march of progress seems to be inevitable. The accumulation of stuff has resumed. Granted, when we first got here, it was all understandable. We needed some pots and pans and a toilet brush and a rug for the kitchen. But then Julie bought a fleece pullover that was on sale, and we got the girls badminton rackets for Christmas, and we bought a piece of artwork to hang on our bare walls. . . and so it continues.
The fantasy of living like a modern-day, upscale Robinson Crusoe has died. Right back where we started.
The only difference now is that I have ever-expanding collections of junk on two continents instead of just one.
-Jack
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
Catching Some Z’s.
How to Sleep on the subway in Five Easy Steps.
First, it helps if you can get an end seat because then you can lean against the glass partition.
Second, because your elbows don’t naturally reach down to your lap, you will want to make sure that you have a pack of some sort. Putting your book bag or shopping bag on your lap will give you a place to rest your arms.
Third, turn your toes slightly inward into a pigeon-toed position. This will help keep your knees together while you doze.
Next, close your eyes and let your led lilt forward slightly. It helps it you simply let your head bob and sway to the rhythm of the train’s movements.
Finally, if you let your hair grow long, you can let it hang down in front of your face. This not only blocks out some of the light, but it affords you a bit of privacy.
Happy snoozing.
-Jack
Now if only I could train my body to automatically wake up at my station.
First, it helps if you can get an end seat because then you can lean against the glass partition.
Second, because your elbows don’t naturally reach down to your lap, you will want to make sure that you have a pack of some sort. Putting your book bag or shopping bag on your lap will give you a place to rest your arms.
Third, turn your toes slightly inward into a pigeon-toed position. This will help keep your knees together while you doze.
Next, close your eyes and let your led lilt forward slightly. It helps it you simply let your head bob and sway to the rhythm of the train’s movements.
Finally, if you let your hair grow long, you can let it hang down in front of your face. This not only blocks out some of the light, but it affords you a bit of privacy.
Happy snoozing.
-Jack
Now if only I could train my body to automatically wake up at my station.
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