Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Another completely new life

11/9 - I experienced a bit of culture shock upon reentry to the United States. The TSA is so cold and indifferent, and they search your bags when you check them. Plus, you have to recheck the bags upon reentry. I strongly dislike flying within America; luckily this time I wasn't sick.

Using American money is stange too. I'm used to purple, orange, blue and green bills, all of different sizes. Here i'm back to using monotone and monosize USD. I even confused some members of the local bank in Porterville with British pounds. They had never seen it before!

16/9 - After spending time with my parents, some local friends and meeting up with Magda in Monterey (it was her first time in California), I find myself in Porterville once again. It was a very surreal feeling being back in this city. When I parked in the parking lot, I was in awe, as in "how the hell did I get back here?"

19/9 - Everything is familiar. I've been having this feeling that the year in Europe was like one long dream, and I only recently woke up from it. Since I'm immediately back in Porterville, it feels like coming back from an extended holiday. The people here are mostly the same and I already know most of the coaches and sport names in the area, and I've had several handshakes from them saying they're glad to have me back. It's a cool feeling.

I'm really enjoying my time back here. That usual timeframe when you don't know anyone well in your first week at a new job doesn't exist here, and I've slotted right in.  But the more I think about it, I left Europe to come back to Porterville? 

What the hell was I thinking? I definitely questioned my decision today.

I absolutely love staying on the ranch in Springville. This is because, if I'm feeling bad about my decision to return like I was today, all I need to do is step outside at night and look at the sky. There is no light here, so the stars and Milky Way galaxy shine bright. Occasionally, if you're patient enough, you can see the momentary, bright white flash of a shooting star. Add in the fact the silence of the area rings in your ears, combined with the rare call from a member of the cattle herd, and this adds up to an incredibly peaceful place. It puts things in perspective. My perceived issues here are nothing in comparison to those flaming balls of gas thousands of light years away, glowing in the inky black sky. It's a thrill just to be able to call this place a temporary home, and I completely understand why Mr. Gill has spent his life here on Hilltop.

22/9 - I'm being patient with finding both a permanent apartment and vehicle. I think I've found a roommate, though. Yesterday I met with Bill (not the Bill from England), a teacher at Porterville High School who commutes from Los Angeles every week. We spent 20 minutes talking, and it seems like the perfect situation. We won't see each other very often because of our schedules, and I'd have an apartment to myself most of the time. But of course, I'm not sure if I completely trust him yet.

I think I'll go ahead with the Coast Guard idea. It seems like a smart way to go, and it's something that benefits other people. I left the recruiter in Fresno a message, but I haven't gotten a call back yet. At the very least, I'd like to talk to them to get all of the information possible. 

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Curtain call on the year in England

8/9 - Today was my final full day in England.

It was spent visiting with some remaining friends and completing errands a person does right before they move, such as close down bank accounts and return library books. I walked through Bournemouth square, along the beach and onto the pier, something I had never done before, knowing this would be my final time seeing this place, in the sunlight and in the foreseeable future.

I met my dissertation advisor on campus, and I realised again that would be my final time stepping onto Talbot campus. Of course, there's a sense of awe there, the knowledge you should cherish this moment on a university campus that was so embarrassingly subpar. My advisor told me two things: (1 This past year was the second cohort ever for sport management at BU; this means it's a very young program, and the four of us in that program this year were guinea pigs. I asked why we were charged so much for a program that had such obvious flaws. And (2, as far as he is concerned, my dissertation earned a passing grade. It just needs to go through a second marker.

This meeting was great because I was able to apologise for being a complete dickhead to him throughout the summer while I struggled to understand how to write a thesis. There were no worries with him, so my time with him as my advisor ended on a high note. There's nothing to feel bad about.

I also spent a bit of time with Coach Charlie. The Bobcats begin practice for this upcoming season on Sunday, so I just missed out on it. It would have been great to get a few practices in, but I'm satisfied. I can now say (truthfully) I played college football!

I had lunch at 7Bone with Viral and Sammy as a last hurrah. I can't think of another place in Bournemouth I'd rather go for a last meal. Those burgers are fat, juicy and absolutely messy, and they're perfect in every way possible. They're the complete opposite of typical British food, which is unseasoned, bland and badly cooked.

This year at Bournemouth University in England turned out so different from what I expected. It turned out to be much better than anything I would have ever planned for 18 months ago. I thought this program would be like a full-time job, allowing for nothing but studying and writing papers; just the thought of living in England made me excited back then.

Fast forward 18 months, and what I got was a program that was not only incredibly soft, but it allowed me to do what I truly love to do: travel. It allowed me to visit 14 countries. Because of this program, I lived in Spain for a month. By participating in this program, I had the opportunity to see Lionel Messi score a hat trick in person in Barcelona, ride a horse on the beach in France, take a motorcycle 721 miles through Wales and into Snowdonia, go on two road trips to the Highlands of Scotland and down to Genoa in Italy, host Japanese High School students for a week in London, learn new sports, meet new people from all over the world and learn bits and pieces from several new languages. I got much more than I bargained for, and to think about how lucky I am that this happened to me is a little bit overwhelming.

I can't help but think about what I'm going back to in California and wonder whether I'm making the right choice, whether I'm taking a step back and going to the exact same situation I was in before. But I'm also at peace with that choice because I know things will be very different. I accomplished everything I wanted to during this year, and a little bit more. Porterville will be different. I'll travel more, and I still have Kenya to look forward to during Christmas. After that, my future is foggy, one that figures to split into many different directions representing what my next life choice will be. It obviously got much more complicated with all of the places and people I want to visit, and it's very difficult to decide what I want to do next.

This was the most incredible year of my life, and credit has to be made to my many friends to who made that possible. I hope to do something else big and challenging with my life very soon. I also have to thank Dave, a former member of the Recorder. If he hadn't royally pissed me off during my first stint there, I wouldn't have decided "fuck it, I'm going to England!" So, thank you, sir.

For those of you who have followed this blog over the year, I want to thank you for reading. I hope it has inspired you to do whatever the hell it is you want to do. This won't be the final entry in this blog (of course not!) but it's the end of Europe for me. It's the curtain call for American in Bournemouth. The name will obviously have to be changed once I get back to California (American in America doesn't seem very catchy to me).


Monday, September 7, 2015

Farewell to Paris, a cultural mecca

6/9 - 6 September, 2015: the day I fell in love with Paris. This was one of those days when everything added up to create one perfect day. There was nothing I'd change about it, as every pause, every decision to turn left or right, every decision to stop and listen to live street music turned out to be a brilliant decision that added to a day that compares with the best, made-for-forevor-memory adventures.

I can see why Parisiens say they fell in love with this city; no matter where you go, there is some sort of history, some sort of culture, some sort of art just waiting around the corner to be explored.






I leave Paris having had the complete opposite experience from 5 years ago. It was much more enjoyable. It didn't feel as if this was a foreign place; in fact, I was comfortable. Though one would think Spanish is of no use in France, I think it's a big reason why my time has been so much better. There are numerous Spanish and French words that are similar to each other, and because of that I can understand a little bit of written French. 

I've written about how adventures can only be an adventure if it is unplanned. You can't plan befriending a group of 4 Japanese law students visiting from Japan, going to dinner with them and helping them get comfortable speaking English with us. It was just like with the Kaichi students; it helps to simplify your language and speak slowly and clearly. Add in the reassurement that it's OK to make mistakes while speaking as long as others understand what you want to communicate, and they were very appreciative. We spent the afternoon and evening with them and got their contact information. When I visit Japan, I will now have a guide. Add that to the list of new countries I want to visit because I have contacts there now. Perhaps a Taiwan-Japan trip could be in the works in one year.


Though I left with a different perception of Paris, my view of the Louvre remains unchanged. I knew 5 years ago if only I visited again, expecting the crowds, I'd enjoy it more. Nope. It's a rip-your-hair-out stressful situation, especially around the Mona Lisa. The painting is behind glass, and there is a barrier 5 feet in every direction. Against this barrier is a massive crowd made up of all walks of life, each person craning their neck and sticking their camera in the air hoping to get a good picture; it's as if they're watching a rock concert. Especially on the first floor, there are waves upon waves of groups of tourists, intent on nothing besides snapping a picture. There are crowds blocking staircases, couples standing in the middle of paths, taking pictures and people simply walking around, recording with a selfie stick.


FUCK selfie sticks.

A selfie stick is a useful tool when you're doing something amazing, like jumping a motorcycle over a canyon, driving a car straight into a flaming stack of barrels and then flipping in the air while flames lick the side paneling or skydiving and then flying straight through a rock tunnel on the side of a steep and jagged mountain, not when you're standing in line for a museum. It makes you look stupid and narcissistic.

An art museum shouldn't make you feel this way, and this is why the Louvre is not the best art gallery in Paris; that honor goes to the Picasso Museum. So I decided to head towards a quieter and much less populated part of the museum, an area in which I knew my favorite painting is located. It's a French piece depicting Gabrielle d'Estrees. I remember it from 5 years ago because it's the most unique and thought-provoking painting in the museum (in my eyes). Needless to say, after communicating with museum employees in sign language, I was very excited to come across it again.



Having seen my favorite painting, the trip was a success. This just goes to show that the whole point of traveling is to meet completely random people, make new friendships and see the world, and all of this expands your mind while shrinking the world. If you have a chance to go somewhere, anywhere, new, take it. 

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Sex museums in Paris, Disney and taking myself too seriously

2/9 - Paris has already been eventful. This is Angel's first time in Paris, and it's fun to see her squeal with delight at the sight of everything so new to her. It's also her first time Couchsurfing; she's lucky because our host, Pascal, is awesome! He's lived in this apartment for 30 years, so every inch of wall space is taken up by books, music or some sort of painting. There is ivy growing in the corners by the window, and best of all the flat is spotlessly clean. 


Pascal cooked some dinner for us after he finished with a massage appointment, and we shared the wine we brought for him as a thank-you gift for hosting, bought at a small, local shop from a dealer who says he only sells wine that is completely natural with no chemicals. We then shared some cheese and wine, one of my favorite snacks when in France, and many stories of travel, our school and some of politics. 

It turns out Pascal practices kung-fu as a way to keep active. He's 58 but looks 43. He walks as if he's in no particular hurry as if he's drifting along, and his hips move a little bit more than normal. Pascal is a person who likes to make contact on the shoulder or arm while in conversation, and he talked about not being a little bit scared of the perfect image portrayed by the Disneyland parks. It sounds as if the French really aren't that into Disneyland. But in all seriousness, this was an awesome place to stay, and Pascal was a perfect host. A total success.   

I had another moment today, a is-this-really-happening kind of moment. It was right around the time when I was eating escargot (snails in a garlic and butter sauce) while listening to an accordian in Paris. 

We visited the crypts of Notre Dame Cathedral, and while out front I took a small piece of bread from an older man and let the finches eat it right out of my hand. At points there were four birds attached to my hand. 



We attached locks to the love bridge, which is covered with thousands of locks to signify love, and Angel's Disney preconceptions of Paris were shattered when we took a stroll down the neighbourhood with Moulin Rouge and endless sex shops, strip clubs and sketchy groups of dudes who just watch you as you walk by. We took a break by entering an erotic museum and watching old, 1930s-era porn that gives new meaning to "Garden Tourism." 


3/9 - Certain cities have distinctive smells. Bruges smelled of Belgian waffles and ocean air. Milan and London have a stale, smoggy odor. Paris? You can't get away from cigarette smoke. People everywhere walk around with a fag, puffing. My friend Magda has smoked much more since she moved back to Paris in June. Perhaps this is one of the reasons people say they fell in love with this city. Magda and Pascal both said that; Paris has a unique smell, and it's alive. I like it much more than I did fove years ago, but maybe that's because the French were much less willing to speak English then. Now, as long as you try to speak French, they'll automatically switch to English for you.

They say Disneyland is where magic happens. That may be true for other Disney parks around the world, but Disneyland Paris is the black sheep of these parks. It doesn't make a profit and the French aren't the most enthusiastic about it. In the words of Angel and I, this park is "janky." It has the same rides as the parks in California and Florida, but there's really nothing new about it.

One goes to Disneyland to escape everyday life and to experience the illusion of magic. You'll get that, but as long as you bring plenty of money and have the patience to wait in exaggerated lines for everything, including for something as simple as a scoop of ice cream. After a couple of hours of that, it really is soul-crushing, and the inside of my head was like that girl who had a loud panic attack in the Haunted Mansion ride, probably because she was claustrophobic. Add in the presence of droning everything-is-snowflakes-and-sunshine-in-a-field-of-blossoms music, and my desire to retun has essentially been annihilated. But in an effort to be positive and not ruin Angel's time, I posed with Mickey Mouse and Spiderman.

I left Angel to continue her Disney geek-out (it later took her two hours to return because the trains just kept going) so I could meet up with Magda, whom I hadn't seen since June. But before I saw her I was distracted by a protest in the streets by French farmers and their hundreds of tractors. They were protesting the low prices of meat set by the government, and the noise from their horns and their scoops scraping the asphalt, mixed with the cheers and appreciative whoops of spectators made for some loud and eye-catching shenanigans.

Today is the first time I have used Airbnb. It's like Couchsurfing, but you pay the host and it's more like having a hotel room. It's less personal and you do it just to have a room, not to meet people. Like how I scored with Pascal with CS, Angel scored with Remy and his family as we have an amazing room with a balcony that wraps around two sides of the room on the fifth floor of the building. We have a home theater, ironing board, iron, hangars, kitchen and anything else we need until Monday. We have been incredibly lucky so far, and hopefully it continues.

4/9 - After miraculously finding Angel in the park this morning and talking to her, I realised I shouldn't take myself so seriously. I had to stop being a Disney hater and start acting like a kid. 

So from there I rode rides I remember well from childhood, like Thunder Mountain, Space Mountain and Star Tours. Everything is the same, except it's all in French. Thunder Mountain is a brilliant ride because the layout and scenery adds so much to the excitement. There's also the thrill of not knowing what will happen in the pitch black. I also surprised my friends by staying until closing time when the park put on a performance featuring sounds, film, water, fire, fireworks and the princess castle that assaulted the senses. 



5/9 - Today was a cross between seeing culture such as Van Gogh and Claude Monet paintings, and trying to shop while under the watchful eyes of suited Emporio Armani emplyees and doormen who know you have no shot of being able to afford anything, let alone the €850 blazer.

We went to the Arc de Triomph where we climbed stairs to the top to see all of Paris, and the Eiffel Tower. The best part was Angel's ecstatic reaction to seeing a famous landmark like that for the first time. I was like that 5 years ago when I first saw it. The Tower is incredible because it's one of those things in the world that looks so big, grand and beautiful it looks fake. So here's to traveling and its ability to make otherworldly landmarks seem normal. 



Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Morphing circumstances, submitted thesis and hindsight

29/8 - I am no longer a resident in Corfe House. It is the end of an era.

The cleanup of the room last night was a little bittersweet, as I had lived there for almost a year. I made some great friends there and have great memories of it. And though we had to clean up after Hunter, the American PhD student who literally never cleaned anything or helped us clean the kitchen to move out, the job got done.

And to end my time in that dorm on a high note, I told Stella I had a crush on her six months ago, something that should or should not have been said until now depending on who you ask. I felt great doing it, and though it was really weird to leave it until the very last second, it's better late than never.

With my bags all packed with less than what I arrived with, I set off for the train station. It was pretty depressing walking away from Corfe House. But this just signifies the end of one thing and the beginning of another. While cleaning the room last night, I reflected on the fact those were my last few hours living in this room on the 7th floor of a dorm that gave me an excellent view of the harbour. No longer will I have a view of Old Harry Rocks, Brownsea Island or Corfe Castle. Most of my friends have left for their respective homelands or new jobs. Suddenly, my world is very different, upended by fate and the future.

I still have about two weeks until I return to California on Sept. 9. In the meantime, I will stay with Danny (whose flat is literally right on the beach) and visit Disneyland Paris with Angel for five days. Unfortunately, my funds are starting to run out particularly after the trek to Scotland, and we will have to lie low in an expensive city.

About my dissertation, it's pretty much done. All I have to do now is print it, bind it and hand it in. There are 55 pages total. Can you believe I've traveled more this summer than I've worked on this thesis? I still got it done! Next challenge, please.

30/8 - I already miss my flatmates. Saturday was emotional because my routine has again been shredded (so suddenly too), and for the fact I can't have a beer with Tim or cook with Stella. I'm going to miss everyone on the top two floors. 

I already feel like it's a memory fading away from me, just like the thunderstorm I watched while lying on the beach at 1 a.m. Silent yellow and white flashes lit up the distant sky towards the Isle of Wight, and that storm perfectly represented my time here. It was crazy, memorable and intense, but the tail end of it is fading away into little more than a memory. 

While lying there, I once again marveled attempt he fact I've lived in Europe for a year. A YEAR! That thought is absolutely flabbergasting. This opportunity is easily the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. It has helped shape my view of the world and truly showed me the magic of travel. It helped me realise I want to do something that benefits humanity for a career. Coast guard? Firefighter? Peace Corps? I'm already thinking about the next big thing I'll do with my life, and it has to be big. It has to make me shit my pants. Most importantly, it has to be challenging. Though I've constantly bashed this university, the final three months was a challenge. But I overcame. 

And one more thing this year has taught me: I can do anything. 

31/8 - I think I'll go ahead with the Coast Guard idea. It'll be something that is challenging, and something that is actually a benefit to fellow humans. Like I said, I want to do another big thing with my life. 

Danny and I went to Okeford House to say goodbye to one of our friends. This is a dorm I wanted to live in before I came to BU. It is very close to campus, and I remember seeing it online. I wondered vaguely how things would be different in this dorm; hindsight is good for that. But it's also a waste of time. What's the point of looking back and wondering how things could have been? Things are the way they are for a reason. That's it. This is also a place I met more cool people such as Ariel from Taiwan. We hit it off immediately, and she is another contact in an Asian country should I choose to make the plunge and go there.

Angel and I snagged an agreement with a Couchsurfing host in Paris. I have a feeling this will be a very positive first experience for Angel. Our host is 58-year-old Pascal. He's the director of a dance academy and a masseuse, and he doesn't book more than 2 surfers at a time. He's also a gay nudist, and the fact I've done a nude photoshoot sparked his interest; it's something we have in common. Though I wasn't looking forward to this trip a few days ago because Paris isn't my favorite place, it'sshaping up to be another worthy-for-Michael travel story. 

9/1 - It's September, and that means one thing: my dissertation has been submitted. 


It was great to submit. I'm done. It's another accomplishment. I will leave the United Kingdom having accomplished everything I set out to do, which is live in a new country, travel, make memories and get a Master's. The reputation I leave with is a person who is chill (horizontal in the words of Bill), up for anything at any time and someone who gets around, not afraid of any adventure. The whole point of entering this program is to see if I could do it. A year ago, I saw this as another chance to be the student I never was. Fast forward to today:

Nope. 

I'll never be the perfect student. Academia just isn't my thing. I don't like how you're discouraged from enjoying learning; instead students go through school focused on passig some test or parroting other views and ideas from other writers in essays. But now that doesn't matter, as I've completed a thesis, which is far and away the longest paper I've done (14,666 words). 

So now I have two weeks until I start at
The Recorder. Next stop: Paris.