Dong

ALBANY, N.Y. - High schoolers can be cruel. They mock you for wearing a winter coat with a strip of fur around the hood, even though you're a Korean exchange student.

That's why Dong needed a new coat this evening. He wanted to stop the torment of his classmates, who are obsessed with tearing down anyone who might have a different sense of style.

His host father explained the situation. Short and stocky as his guest is tall and thin, the host spoke English with a clipped Brooklyn accent straight out of the Saturday Night Live "Two A-Holes" sketches.

"Dong needs a new coat. The kids at school. [Pause] Are making fun of him."

They started trying on new jackets, mostly the North Face ones that are standard attire in richer local high schools and most four-year colleges. He put on the Denali Fleece, a $165 coat that sells buckets year after year. Then he tried on a large down jacket which is sold by local sporting goods stores and "urban clothiers" appealing to the hip-hop crowd. The host father put Dong in a size Large, which rested on his small frame like a barrel on a naked man.I suggested a size Small might fit better. They protested, and we settled on a medium.

With Dong throwing on hunting vests, hooded sweatshirts and ski parkas with the North Face logo, I noticed that Dong cared about his dress. He wore torn and purposely faded jeans, a zip sweater with a popular Asian fashion line on the front a designer T-shirt underneath. He dressed like a typical Korean teenager.

We didn't have Dong's size in the jacket, so I put one on hold in another store. When I returned I found Dong & Host in party trick mode.

"Dong, show the man a Half-Asian person."

Dong used his hand to stretch out his left eyelid.

"He's such a joker! Now show him your karate moves."

Dong lowered his knees and bent his elbows upward at a 90 angle, like Bruce Lee. Never mind that karate is a Japanese art, and Dong probably studied a different one in Korea: this was a cultural exchange, and Dong must find a way to fit in America, just like everyone else.

The Slow Become Slower

ALBANY, N.Y. - I may be on America's East Coast, but the Taiwanese earthquake slowed down my Web surfing. My attempts to check the progress of my language school applications - never an easy process - the last two days have loaded at one-quarter or less of their regular sluggish pace.

I think I'll take a couple days off from Baidu MP3 search as well. That means no more cheesy Chinese disco-pop songs until the New Year.



(The above video is for a New Years song by the China Dolls, whom I know nothing about.)

New Hoodie Source

ALBANY, N.Y. - His hooded sweatshirt had my area code on it, so I asked him to tell me about it.

Turns out Jesse designed and silk-screened the hoodie at his own design shop, 518Prints. I checked out their Web site after work and it's a pretty professional operation. The difference between this site and others I've encountered is this business is a full-time job.

According to Jesse, who I met near a stack of Nalgene bottles, 518Prints bread and butter is selling merchandise to bands. They make up shirts and hats and mail boxes to different tour stops. This way the band always has a fresh supplies of buttons to sell to new converts, and doesn't have to haul 5,000 shirts from Portland to Seattle.

With the Eggcellent business on hiatus - or at least hibernation - as its founder attends college, this could be my new source for Albany-related T-shirts.

I owe Jesse one. He spent $425 on mountaineering equipment and a really fancy jacket.

Now I just need to coin the next Albany shirt sensation. Perhaps "Spitzer: Bringing Baldness Back" or "I'd Rather Be At X-Gates" shirt.

Precious Gifts

ALBANY, N.Y. - Every so often, there's something that jolts you out of the endless stream of holiday shoppers purchasing last minute coats, skis and Nalgene bottles.

Today's interruption was a 34-year-old woman with shoulder length curly hair and a pilly black peacoat. She placed a year-old pair of long underwear on the table and said she wanted to exchange the size.

"I got married this year," she said. "When you get married everything just goes on hold."

While she picked out a new size, I searched the computer for the garment's coat. Without a receipt, the woman would receive the current price of the bottoms. She was very lucky; normally last year's models are put on clearance and eventually marked down to 99 cents. Instead this model was still in stock and at a higher price. The woman got a $9 credit in addition to the trade. I rang up the transaction and placed the cash on the table.

The woman looked confused by her windfall. She stumbled for a minute, and then said she had another transaction: She wanted a $15 gift card. Fifteen dollars is an unusual amount for the store; it's the smallest one I've made this year. Even more strangely, the woman requested that I take the $9 and place it toward the certificate. She paid the rest of the total - six dollars - by check.

"I don't have much money," she said, and I took it the reason why she divided up such a small amount.

On the gif certificate, she filled out the subject line "Paul's Gift" and circled a Bible verse on her check, something from the Gospel of John. I placed the check in the register and gave the woman her receipt.

"Thank you very much," she said, and then took a small, salmon colored business card that she'd been holding in her hands and pressed it into mine. After she left, I turned it over. It was another Bible quote, Isiah 43:4. "You are precious in God's eyes..."

This gesture moved me. I may not share this woman's passion for religion, but her actions were pure. That she'd give me this small card, with no sermon or attempt at conversation, is wonderful. I felt the same way earlier this year when a woman handed me a red "Support Our Troops" wristband at a gathering for a group of soldiers en route to Iraq. I treasure these objects, because of the people who gave them to me.

Small But Sexy

ALBANY, N.Y. - Called "Smalbany" in the current Lonely Planet (a term I've never heard used by a local) Albany gets a bad rep. The truth about New York's capital is best summarized by a transplant I spoke with at a holiday party.

"People think Albany doesn't have anything. That's wrong. Albany has one of everything," she said.

I'm reminded of a statement Berlin Mayor Klaus Wowereit said a couple years ago, that his city was "arm, aber sexy," - poor but sexy. Here in Albany, we're small but sexy.

And my party friend's right about the number of things in Smalbany. There's one good tea store, one buffalo farm, one nice Hindu temple, one controversial Guayanese club and one place to buy stinky tofu.

It's not perfect; every year the local alt-weekly Metroland complains about the city's lack of an Ethiopian restaurant. But with that Horn of Africa power busy "liberating" Somalia, that might be a good thing. There is Yonder Farms, a market less than a mile from my house with a working water-wheel and greenhouse in front, that I go years without visiting. Eating food by using bread as a utensil might be a little much for a year that has already seen the opening of several upscale clubs, lounges and even a "contemporary pub" (aka a bar with fancy appetizers).

Albany's nicest venues, the Emperor's Place serving Cantonese seafood dishes, the politico hang-out Jack's Oyster Bar and the free display of modernist and cubist sculpture at the Concourse are fantastic, they rival their counterparts in New York. The only difference is that here in Albany we only have one of them.

SmAlbany, the blog, examined the differences between New York and Albany in a post called "The "intellectual" roots of Oh, SmAlbany!"

Sample:

New York - "high paying job in the 'financial district.'"
Albany - "cushy and comfortable job with the state."

New York - thinks the "in-town" newspapers are so lame. Reads LA TIMES.
Albany - thinks the "in-town" newspapers are so lame. Reads NY POST.

I've been back in Albany two months now, and think I'm beginning to get settled in here. The other day I even thought about buying a copy of the Post.

Neo-Tanked

WASHINGTON, D.C - Inside the Party Room at Crystal Towers II were nearly 100 of America's brightest young political minds. In their simple black dresses and $50 silk ties, they seemed ready to march the five miles across the Potomac and storm Capital Hill, or at least make sure they drank the price of their tickets from the open bar.

I'd scored an invitation to this thanks to a friend who deferred his acceptance from one of the best political science schools in the country for two years to wallow in one of Washington's think tanks. He's basically a liberal (although his Facebook profile now lists his political views as "other") but is working for the American Enterprise Institute. Wikipedia describes the organization as, "a conservative think tank founded in 1943 whose stated mission is to support the foundations of freedom - limited government, private enterprise, vital cultural and political institutions, and a strong foreign policy and national defense... it has emerged as one of the leading architects of the Bush administration's public policy. More than two dozen AEI alumni have served either in a Bush administration policy post or on one of the government's many panels and commissions." Not exactly my usual party mates.

I wanted to go, if only to experience the way these young conservative people behave in leisure. It was like being invited to a rare tribal ritual or a Tibetan sky burial, fascinating because you've never seen anything like it before. But I was only going to be in Washington two days, and devoting one night to an event I only wanted to ironically attend didn't seem wise. I took a pass on buying an advance ticket.

Nine o'clock on party night, several friends and I were downstairs at the Towers, drinking wine and preparing for a fancy birthday dinner. Just before leaving, we decided to head up to the Party Room, unannounced, and check out the party. We took the elevator tot he top floor, walked down a long twisty hallway. In front of us were a bunch of smartly dressed people in front of a wonderful view of downtown Washington. This looked like any other Washington party I've seen on C-SPAN, only without the prevalence of bald spots.

The party guests resembled the crashers, although they had better haircuts and worse dance moves, but not enough to make me forget their love of free trade, FOX News and The New Republic. I walked inside, shook the hand of my friend, stole a mini-cheesecake and went back to my liberal life.

Please Do Not Click for English

ALBANY, N.Y. - Spring language program deadlines are approaching, and I'm frantically trying to decide where to spend the next year or so of my life. The process is much like undergraduate admissions, with more Chinglish.

At Peking University's page for international students, prospective students are told the "Application Period is from November 1." Does this mean the school accepts applications beginning on the day? Or is that the deadline? What happens to application sent before then; are they thrown in the trash?

I sent an e-mail off to the school three weeks ago. I received my reply earlier this week: Nov. 1 was the deadline. I guess I won't be studying at Peking University.

(Prospective students can access this accurate information only when the site is working. Many parts of the school's English Web site seem to be frequently down.)

Beijing Normal University's Website features slick graphics and interface, but this element of sophistication is just a veneer on an application which must be printed and faxed to China. Yes, faxed.

After the application is received, the login part of the Web site stops working applicants can only "inquiry" their form. The inquiry section is blank.

Tsinghua University is the "M.I.T. of Asia," but their Web site is more the "Hudson Valley Community College of Northwest Beijing." Their incredibly slow Web site wins points for at least having clear information, but accessing the relevant parts for international students requires avoiding the two most obvious choices (both dead ends) and selecting a small menu on the bottom of the screen.

I want to be admitted to these schools, so I can learn about Beijing in-person, not through a Web site. But for now, this site is my portal to these institutions of higher learning. And what a dirty, foggy porthole it is.

Three-Way First Date

ALBANY, N.Y. - I'm holed up on this chilly December evening at Professor Java's Coffeeshop, a high school hangout for the goth/poetry reading set. I'm supposed to be writing a letter to Beijing University about spring semester admission, but instead I've been listening in on a first date a couple tables over.

I particularly enjoy this story, told by the male - a self-proclaimed "easy going person" - about a previous unsuccessful dating experience.

"She was dressed basically like her mother. But she's like three years younger than us. She was just really out there. And I'm like she's totally, totally not my type. But I'm having a great time with this."

"So finally her friends get there and we have a couple drinks. We were pretty buzzed. It was like 12:30 and we left, and I knew a place on my route that was open.

"I had a good conversation, I had a good time. I mean anything above that, no way, but I had a good time."

"A couple days later, I call her up, and ask to speak with her, tell her 'hey that was fun. maybe we should have drinks again some time. But her mother picks up the phone and says she's not home."

At this, the date groans. Her new man got stood up.

"And now I feel stupid, because I totally didn't want this to be anything, and now it looks like I'm the one who's calling."

"And you're trying to be a nice guy."

"Yea."

I can only hope the same thing doesn't happen after this date.

Never Trust the Police

ALBANY, N.Y. - The FBI is laying low this Friday in Kansas, after paying $2 million to a military man wrongly accused of being involved in the 2004 Madrid Train Bombings.

Here's the lesson one Kansas.com reader - "kansas rural farmer" - takes from the affair:

"I have lost all respect for police. If you carry around $1,000 in cash, say for Xmas shopping, and you get stopped for a routine traffic violation in the "big city" of Wichita, cops will "ask" permission to search your vehicle because you're a "suspected" drug dealer for carrying that amount in cash. I like to pay cash for items. I grew up in rural Kansas and many farmers in rural Kansas like myself don't trust authorities or banks"

To which an anonymous replier adds:

"to kansas rural farmer:

i totally agree with you!"