Meditations from the Mat: Daily Reflections on the Path of Yoga

by Rolf Gates, Katrina Kenison

I have tried yoga. My mom does it for over 20 years. Plenty of friends do it, and lots of them recommend it. For whatever reason, I just don’t like it enough to say, when is the next class? So I suppose it’s somewhat weird that I would pick this up at the library book sale.

This is a day by day meditation. 365 quotes from a variety of religions, authors and celebrities: from yoga sutras, Rumi, the bible, Buddhist monks, rabbis, Confucius, new age gurus, to Homer, Shakespeare, JFK, Florence Nightingale, Nelson Mandela… Following the quote, the author expands on the sayings in relation to yoga, anyone can find something of value just by flipping through a few pages. It doesn’t just help with yoga practice, but in living a happier life in general. Most of the ideas are about letting go, breathing, accepting.

As a non practitioner, I decide to just save the gems I gathered from the book and let it go. As the quote of Day 133 says, “Try to do everything in the world with a mind that lets go… If you let go completely, you will know complete peace an freedom.” ~ Achaan Chah

A few more words of wisdom:

The ego asks a thousand questions for which there are no answers. ~ A Course in Miracle

For those who have come to grow, the whole world is a garden. For those who have come to learn, the wole world is a university. For those who have come to know GOd, the whole world is a prayer mat. ~ M.R. Bawa Muhaiyaddeen

I recently ran across a story about a Native American tribal leader descibing his own inner struggles. He said, “There are two dogs inside me. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The otherdog is good. Th mean dog fights the good dog all the time.” Someone aske him which dog usually wins, and after a moemnt’s reflection, he answered. “The one I feed the most.” ~ Rabbi Harold S. Kushner

Meditation practive is regarded as a good and in fact excellent way to overcome warfare in the world: our own warfare as well as greater warfare. ~ Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

Why Gay Guys Are a Girl’s Best Friend

by Jeff Fessler, Karen Rauch

This is a thin 100-page illustration of fifty reasons why gay guy are truly a girl’s best friends.

“A gay guy sends flowers just because you are you.
A straight guy sends flowers when he has screwed up big-time.

A gay guy hugs you to show he cares.
A straight guy hugs you to determine if your bra is front- or back-opening.

A gay guy’s reaction when you have PMS? Plenty of sympahty and an endless supply of Ben & Jerry’s.
A straight guy’s reaction to your PMS: Call me when you snap out of it.”

A laugh-out-loud quick read that I enjoyed sharing with my husband (who now declared Ben & Jerry’s to be ice cream for gays and chicks.) I don’t have any gay buddies to attest to the truth of these pearls of wisdom but at least the straight guy parts are spot on.

Books Gone Wild in Kansas City

A lot of BookCrossers love leaving books in the wild, but for a shy person like me, I usually prefer the comfort, safety and laziness of online swapping or leaving my books at OBCZs. Moreover, I figure, why risk a book going into the garbage when I could give it to someone who’s interested.

Thus, it was with some curiosity, excitement, and nervous anticipation that I did my first big wild releasing, as a reverse scavenger hunt at the BookCrossing UnConvention in Kansas City. It was totally fun reading the map and preparing books to release, a combination of creativity, knowledge, map reading, and walking/running exercise. Totally addictive fun that kept me recounting the details to anybody who chanced to ask how my vacation was. ABout 20 of us turned out en masse to the Country Club Plaza at Kansas City, and leaving book here and there, all over the place.

My first release was at the JC Nicholas Fountain for the fountain theme, using the book Hole in the Water. Well, a fountain is technically speaking, a hole of water, sort of… (*all book titles contain BC journal link)

Hole in the Water released at the JC Nicholas Fountain

For the statue theme, I found that the stone horse statue at PF Chang bears remarkably resemblance to the unicorn on the cover of The Camelot Caper, so I left the book at the horse’s foot:

The Camelot Caper

Next I left the book Flower (a great book by the way) in a flower pot. Okay, rather unimaginative, but hey it is themed.

Flower book left with some flowers.

For the numbers theme, I wasn’t quite sure where to release my book until I came across this sign. Funny thing is, originally I had planned to use the book The Four Agreements, which would have been PERFECT at this address. But that book was such an old BC book I couldn’t bear just wild releasing it and end up using Three Junes instead.

Three Junes released at 444

I found a White House/Black Market store, a perfect spot for Blackbeard’s Ghost as a Colors themed release.

Blackbeard's Ghost showing up at Black Market!

Now on to hot and cold. First is The Grilling Season at The Capital Grille. Spot the book? It’s at the paw of the left lion.

The Grilling Season at The Capital Grille

Then, at my favorite ice cream shop, Coldstone Creamery, a copy of Cold Company. If it weren’t so cold (for me) and if I had more time, I’d definitely have gone in for a pumpkin ice cream.

Cold Company at Coldstone Creamery

There are lots of fountains everywhere, so at this Mermaid fountain I released my water book, Beneath the Surface, though the book remained stubbornly afloat. Should have put some stone in the bag…

Beneath The Surface stays afloat in the Mermaid Fountain

I had quite a few dog books. This one, Why We Love The Dogs We Do, awaited a dog + book lover at the Three Dog Bakery.

Why We Love The Dogs We Do at the Three Dogs Bakery

I didn’t plan to release this book here, but Benji spotted this fire hydrant and simply refused to leave…

Benji loves this fire hydrant

Morning, Noon & Night was left next to a string of lights for the lights release.

Lights Release: Morning, Noon & Night

Again, a book that I planned to take home but released instead. This one is for KC Connection, as the author of For the Beary Best Mom lives in Kansas City. Left this on the Kansas City Star newspaper box.

Released for KC Connection

I also did a bunch of themed releases.

You’ve got Nickel ad Dimed at the bank!

You've Got Nickel and Dimed at the Bank!

Some Uncommon Grounds (a coffee house mystery) showed up at Latteland (book on front table).

Latteland has some Uncommon Grounds!

Kind of wish I still had Cold Company, as the eagle would work great over here too. Anyway, a chocolate themed book, Like Water For Chocolate, at the Panache Chocolatier.

My Toy Voyager toys bravely left a book in the eagle's nest.

Love and Other Recreational Sports looked right at home at the Diebel’s Sportsman Gallery.

Love is a recreational sport!

This is one of my favorite releases. Why Me? Guess!

Why Me? Guess!

I had looked for a while to find this perfect chair for Three for the Chair. I believe this is at Brio Tuscan Grille.

Chair book on chair

You have to admit that Bead on Trouble into looks right at home in the Brighton Collectibles store, though I doubt the shop assistant would agree.

Beads release

It’s Zero Hour at the Clock Tower of Fogo de Chao. This is the only catch I got so far from this Scavenger Hunt. Plus the very photogenic tower makes this one of my favorite releases.

It's Zero Hour at Fogo de Chao

As I am not inclined to hang myself under a cliff, this little book Over Sea, Under Stone has to be contend with under a little stone ledge.

Not quite over the sea, but definitely under the stone.

Sorry, dear shop assistant, I knew photography was not allowed in the store. But hey when I have a book called Shades of Earl Grey and you have some boxes of earl grey, what do you expect me to do??

Earl Grey!!

There is a bonus for finding a pay phone, and I have the perfect book for a themed release. Except that I couldn’t find a darn payphone!! Well, I never did pay attention but just presume them to be everywhere, but never did I imagine that even hotels don’t have payphones anymore!!

Anyway, it wasn’t until we got to the Hallmark City Center that we spotted one. Here you go, Superman Returns. Maybe not. Guess he has to use the men’s room and hopefully not get arrested.

Superman Returns

Also, about twenty steps away from the payphone, we found this book lying on the bench. I was like, no way, that was the book I released two hours ago! It couldn’t be showing up here! Turns out it was another copy from the same BookCrosser… I guess this is my second wild catch of my BC life!!

A weird moment of deja vu indeed!

Not on the Label: What Really Goes into the Food on Your Plate

by Felicity Lawrence

This book is written by a British author, and while I have read plenty of books about the sad state of our food industry: unsustainable industrial farming, farm animal abuse, illegal immigrant workers, harmful addictives, obesity crisis, food mileage, and so forth, I figure it would be interesting to read about the same issues from a different perspective.

In some way, you can call it “comforting” to know that we Americans don’t face these problems alone. Nonetheless, in some way I have, like many Americans, a more picturesque image of Europe. We think of the French, the Italian and the Spanish cuisine when we hear the word gourmet… excellent wine from vineyards older than our country, homemade dishes prepared for hours by loving matriachs, farmers markets selling the freshest pick of the season, rustic bread from brick ovens, lunch and dinner enjoyed at a leisurely pace. It is therefore, a sad and rude awakening to know that the pasture is not that much greener on the other side of the pond.

This book is however much better than I thought, and I gleamed a lot of new knowledge. When it started out with the meat processing plant and undocumented labor, I was like, oh yeah, I read that ten million times already (though American’s labor is from South America, not Eastern Europe and Middle East), but after that it was one eye-opener after the next. For example:

Chicken meat can be “beefed up” with hydrolyzed beef protein (make from cow waste) so it can hold up to 50% water in weight, though latest technology can break up the bovine protein so much that DNA testing may not reveal its presence. Some chicken nuggets were found to be made up of as little as 16% chicken, and a good portion of that from chicken skin and mechanically recovered meat.

In prepacked salad leaves using modified atmosphere packaging to increase shelf life, the chemcial used to disinfect the leaves may cause cancer, not to mention that a study found that people who eat these salad leaves show no increase in antioxidants in their blood sample, compare to a control group who ate regular lettuce leaves.

In 2002 the British grocery retailers accounted for nearly 1 billion kilometers of food transportation. And England is no bigger than a small state in size! It’s too mind boggling to even begin to do the math for the United States. No wonder it’s said that eating local helps save the environment a lot more than driving less.

Traditional bread baking requires the dough to be left to ferment and prove over extended periods. In industrial baking, they incorporate air and water into the dough with intense energy at high speed, and by adding chemical oxidants (to get the gas in), higher level of salt (as there is no time to develop flavor as in traditional dough fermentation) and hydrogenated fat (to provide structure) they save time, labor, and have higher yield (usually it contains 8% more water than bread made from traditional method). It is however found that the traditional fermentation allows the wheat to become digestible, and modern methods of baking bread may be the cuplit for increased cases of gluten allergies.

In the chapter titled Apples and Bananas, the book mentioned how fruits and vegetables are not selected for their flavors. An apple has to go through a “beauty parade”. A machine has cameras to take up t seventy pictures of each apple as it passe along a conveyor belt to grade it by size and color. If the specs call for 15-17% blush red on green, an apple that is 18% or 14% red will be rejected, and end up either as fruit juice or just go to waste. Another machine, the penetrometer, will measure the firmness of the fruit. A buyer told a farmer that while his apples taste great, they don’t pass the test, and so the fruits are rejected. To measure up to the ripeness requirement will mean fruits that are picked too early.

The narrow specifications also mean that plenty of food go to waste if they don’t measure up to the standards. For every 30 tonnes of carrots harvested, just 10 tonnes are used. Only 35% of green beans meet the supermarket grade: they may be curved, too long, too short, too thick, or too thin. The high cosmetic standards also require heavy use of chemicals to achieve.

The part about coffee planters make me especially sad. The farmer kept thinking that the translator made a mistake as he couldn’t fathom how a product he sells for 200 Ugandan shillings a kilo can end up in a London cafe for 5000 shillings a cup. Meanwhile, he couldn’t pay the 5000 shillings needed for medicines for his children with malaria, and his children have to drop out of school when he couldn’t pay tuition, dashing any hope that the next generation can get educated and move out of poverty.

I kept reading it to my hubby till he complained that his appetite was totally ruined. I read it to several coworkers (during lunch time no less)… Really a good book worth sharing.

Ender in Exile

by Orson Scott Card

I was reading this book two nights ago. Past bedtime, but couldn’t put it down. That likely happens a lot to any bookworm. When I did close the book, however, I felt a sense of despair and panic when I realize that I had engulfed two thirds of the book already, and there aren’t too many pages left.

This is the moment I realized how much I enjoyed the book, that it has met my personal criteria of excellency: so good you can’t stop reading, yet you want to brake yourself, so you won’t reach the end too soon, because you hate very much to depart from that world created by the author, and you dread the moment when there is no more page to turn.

Okay, I admit that Ender’s Game is an absolute favorite of mine. I agree I am a bit biased, anything OSC writes about Ender (and Bean), I will likely lap up happily; heck, if there were really Ender heading a colony, I might sign up too… I know Card is milking on the success of Ender’s Game too much, with First Encounters about his father, the whole Shadow series and what not, but I suppose my comfort is in knowing that I am not the only gullible one. As I like the young version of Ender so much more than the adult version appears in the later series, this one fits the bill perfectly. I just didn’t like the big gap of 3,000 years between the first two books, so for a fan like me, this is a wonderful addition to the series, where I get to know young Ender, and the other characters, better.

The story starts, as the author said, about the timeline of Chapter 14 of Ender’s Game. The war is won, the Earth is saved, but Ender realizes that he won’t be able to go back home as he has supposed he would. As the greatest and most feared military power, he is regarded as too dangerous. He will have to go on exile, to become governor on the first outer space human colony. His sister, Valentine, joins him. On board the ship is a captain who is convinced that he would make a much better governor than a young boy who only knows how to play video games, and a mother scheming for her daughter to marry Ender.

To enjoy Ender in Exile, you need some acquaitance with Enderverse. As it’s a direct sequel to Ender’s Game, reading that is a must. Reading Ender’s Shadow and a couple after that, would be a plus, as you gets to know Bean, Peter and Petra better. You will find loose ends tied and previous scenes played out. It just isn’t a book that you can enjoy on its own as the author didn’t spend time introducing the characters.

While I enjoyed the book, I have to admit it’s more for the characters than the plot itself. In other words it’s a book for the fans: a book enjoyed more for its relation to an undisputedly superior book, rather than for the book itself. Some of the conversational exchanges are still brilliant, but some just feel awkward or unnecessary, especially all those bickerings. The encounter towards the end seems to be over too fast; with all the built up I would expect a more substantial opponent, though in some way I know that’s what Ender needs to move on. Also several threads just seem under explored, which is a pity. So, maybe another sequel to tie this up? Afterall, there’s 3,000 years of gap to fill…

Krik? Krak!

by Edwidge Danticat

The youthful face on the cover and the title had misled me to expect a light, young adult read. This book is, however, a serious and excellent collection of short stories about life in Haiti and Haitians in America, and is in fact a finalist for the National Book Award.

In Haitian tradition, a story teller says “Krik!” to alert listeners that a story is about to be told. The audience responses with “Krak!”, to let the storyteller that they are giving her their attention in anticipation of a good tale. In this book, your anticipation will not be disappointed, for Danticat is a genius in capturing the spirit of her characters and creating beautiful imagery with little words. Powerful, memorable characters, often living an impoverished and at times tragic life, that stay with you after the story ends, dispite the little time you have come to know them. The woman who longs for a baby to hug, the woman who prositutes while her son sleeps, the immigrant mother who lives with her Americanized daughter, the man who goes on a raft, the girl who finally finds her name, the little boy who recites his speech in a play.

Often an anthology may have a few good stories, padded by mediocre ones, but this collection is excellent throughout. Higly recommended and likely to earn a spot on my best ten of the year list.

True Love: A Practice for Awakening the Heart

by Thich Nhat Hanh

I like Thich Nhat Hanh’s books, because its so beautiful in its simplicity, and so universal and trans-religion in its teaching. This is a short book, so it’s great for re-reading.

The book begins with a short Buddhist explanation on the four components of love: loving kindness, compassion, joy and freedom, and he offers examples for us to self examine our love to see how true it is. There are also practices such as meditation, mantras and breathing exercise.

One interesting exercise is telephone meditation. Whenever the phone rings, take it as the bell in a meditation. Draw a few breathes to center and calm the mind before answering. Very simple to do and it most certainly helps one reach a calmer and more focused state.

Another concept that really stays with me is “I think, therefore I am not here.” A lot of time we worry about the future, about the past, about things far away, and ignore what is here and present with us. We may hear but not listen to the person we are talking with face to face. We do not notice things on the path we walk, we are not aware of what we are eating, because our mind is somewhere else. This little twist on Descartes’ famous words is a wonderful way to remind ourselves to be more present and mindful, to be more fully immersed in our lives, so that we can respect the people we interact with, appreciate the food we intake, and experience our life. Whenever we find ourselves thinking too much, our mind too scattered, it’s worth repeating these words, to bring ourselves back to where we belong.

Imperial Life in the Emerald City: Inside Iraq’s Green Zone

by Rajiv Chandrasekaran

From Amazon.com:

The Green Zone, Baghdad, 2003: in this walled-off compound of swimming pools and luxurious amenities, Paul Bremer and his Coalition Provisional Authority set out to fashion a new, democratic Iraq. Staffed by idealistic aides chosen primarily for their views on issues such as abortion and capital punishment, the CPA spent the crucial first year of occupation pursuing goals that had little to do with the immediate needs of a postwar nation: revamping the Iraqi tax code and mounting an anti-smoking campaign.

As the Baghdad bureau chief for the Washington Post, Chandrasekaran has probably spent more time in U.S.-occupied Iraq than any other American journalist. In this acclaimed firsthand account, the former Baghdad bureau chief of The Washington Post gives us an intimate portrait of life inside this Oz-like bubble, which continued unaffected by the growing mayhem outside. Chandrasekaran unstintingly depicts the stubborn cluelessness of many Americans in the Green Zone—like the army general who says children terrified by nighttime helicopters should appreciate “the sound of freedom.” But he sympathetically portrays others trying their best to cut through the red tape and institute genuine reforms. He also has a sharp eye for details, from casual sex in abandoned offices to stray cats adopted by staffers, which enable both advocates and critics of the occupation to understand the emotional toll of its circuslike atmosphere. Thanks to these personal touches, the account of the CPA’s failures never feels heavy-handed.

This is a quietly devastating tale of imperial folly, and the definitive history of those early days when things went irrevocably wrong in Iraq.

When I opened the pages, I suddenly felt very proud to be Chinese. For right there, in the first pages, smack right in the middle of the map of Green Zone, is the marker “Chinese Restaurants”. Not pizza parlor, not hamburger joint, no, it’s Chinese restaurants. Mind you too, it’s not just one, but two of them. As some travelers commented, you will always be amazed that no matter how far you travel, there’s always a Chinese restaurant where you least expect it.

A really interesting and engaging book. We’ve all read about how inept the US govt’s handle of the Iraqi occuption is, but condensing the interviews and anecdotes into one volume really opened my eyes. A lot of it seems to be variations on the same theme: big, lofty idea thought up by someone unqualified for the position. Like the idea of using a food ration debit card, when neither electrity nor telephone was working; or Operation Smiles when the hospitals had been looted clean of the most basic supplies and beds, and patients are dying from the most curable sicknesses and injuries. Too bad when, filling positions, what matters is not what certificates or diplomas you hang on your wall, but whether there is a photo of you with Bush and Cheney.

While there are a few people who went there with the intention to make some quick bucks (the ludicracy of the contractor’s story is really something), in all honesty most of the people who went out to Iraq brought with them good intentions.

Kickboxing Geishas: How Modern Japanese Women Are Changing Their Nation

by Veronica Chambers

From the dust jacket flap:

Forget the stereotypes. Today’s Japanese women are shattering them — breaking the bonds of tradition and dramatically transforming their culture. Shopping-crazed schoolgirls in Hello Kitty costumes and the Harajuku girls Gwen Stefani helped make so popular have grabbed the media’s attention. But as critically acclaimed author Veronica Chambers has discovered through years of returning to Japan and interviewing Japanese women, the more interesting story is that of the legions of everyday women — from the office suites to radio and TV studios to the worlds of art and fashion and on to the halls of government — who have kicked off a revolution in their country.

Japanese men hardly know what has hit them. In a single generation, women in Japan have rewritten the rules in both the bedroom and the boardroom. Not a day goes by in Japan that a powerful woman doesn’t make the front page of the newspapers. In the face of still-fierce sexism, a new breed of women is breaking through the “rice paper ceiling” of Japan’s salary-man dominated corporate culture. The women are traveling the world — while the men stay at home — and returning with a cosmopolitan sophistication that is injecting an edgy, stylish internationalism into Japanese life. So many women are happily delaying marriage into their thirties — labeled “losing dogs” and yet loving their liberated lives — that the country’s birth rate is in crisis.

Part of this book reads more academic than I expected. It’s rather comprehensive and the author definitely knows the subject well and has a deept understanding of the Japanese culture. Her “geishas” is a very bunch: young hip-hop DJ, diplomat’s-wife-turned-TV-chef-turned-government minister; an openly gay Osaka assembly-woman, restaurant owner, host club addict, competitive snowboarder, executives, and the stereotypical OLs and housewives. She covers a board spectrum of subjects, interviewed plenty of men and women, and presents a very completed pciture of modern day Japan. I like how she discusses the topic evenhandedly. For example, when she talked about the middle aged divorce, she certainly shows a lot of sympathy for the men.

The author is African American, and that adds a interesting perspective, such as the mention of the b-kei, Japanese who are fans of the black culture, which is slightly different from the typical Westerner focus.

The most interesting part for me is the discussion about Japanese men. It was kind of surprising to read how dissatisfied the Japanese women are with their men. Granted, the surveyed subjects are not necessarily representative of the whole population, but it still makes me feel “wow”, how come they view their men so poorly? In fact, among the men interviewed in the book, they did not come across badly at all. Some even appeared more open-minded and supportive than the average American guy I know of. Or were they too polite to be bash about feminism and working women in front of the author?

I mean, I have dated Japanese guys and know some as friends, and I certainly did not find them so lacking. Looking back at my single days, I think Japanese guys have better rep than Korean guys (who are supposedly even more male chauvinistic) and American guys (who only want sex and have a 50% divorce rate). And I and my friends certainly do not have such negative opinion of the men of our own cultures, there may be areas they fall short of compare to men from other countries, but the repeated expressed sentiment was really a surprise for me. I wonder if the author would consider for her next book to research how happy are the women of different cultures with their own men? She has totally piked my interest.

The Teahouse Fire

by Ellis Avery

“When I was nine, in the city now called Kyoto, I changed my fate. I walked into the shrine through the red arch and struck he bell. I bowed twice. I clapped twice. I whispered to the foreign goddess and bowed again. And then I heard the shouts and the fire. What I asked for? Any life but this one.”

Thus begin the story of Aurelie, a French American girl of nine in last 19th century. She was taken from her mother, against her will, to accompany her missionary uncle to Kyoto to “convert the barbarians”. When a fire broke out in the house she and her uncle stayed in, she ran away, and ended up in the garden of a Japanese tea master. She was taken in by Yukako, the tea master’s daughter, as partly a maid, partly a younger sister. They did not consider her a foreigner, as she did not have blue eyes and golden hair, but thought that she was just born a bit defected and retarded (as her language skills seeed seriously limited). (I guess if a child with Down’s syndrome can be called Mongol, such perception can go both ways…) As the two girls grew up, they witnessed the political changes in Japan: the birth of Tokyo as the new capital, the demise of power of the samurai clan, the influence of Western culture, the resulting nationalism… and with it, the realization that the art of tea had to adapt to the new world or die.

The beginning of the story strongly reminds me of Memoirs of a Geisha. Both are about a young girl being plucked from her normal childhood, to enter into a highly codified community of a Japanese traditional art as an outsider. For Aurelie, she was doubly an outsider, barely speaking the language and totally ignorant of the social rules and etiquettes. Thus, a perfect protagonist was created. As things were explained to her, they were explained to the readers, without feeling contrived.

Reading the book gives me the pleasure of understanding more about chado and recent history of Japan. I had attended a tea ceremony once and couldn’t say I enjoyed it, just found the whole thing too artificially formal, sitting painfully on my legs in a constrictive kimino, and a big show for just a cup of hardly palatable tea (the tea was made with grounded tea leaves froth to a foamy, bitter, dark green broth, served with a sweet that supposedly balances the bitterness but for me had the effect of making it more bitter.) I won’t rush for another cup of tea but at least I can see the reason why someone would love it, and appreciate better the thoughts and care that go into the art. Really a lot of thoughts and care. In one ceremony, the windows were closed off except for one, fitted with glass. The ceremony was timed such that the moon would sail into view at the moment the tea was prepared. When the guest arrived in a kimino that doesn’t go well with their decoration, the master had to rearrange the furniture, change the tea box, move the flowers… if they could repaint the room and change the carpet… they probably would too…

As a fiction, Memoirs is without doubt more accompanished. As Aurelie is more an observer in the background, she is often a reporter of events rather than the actress in the center stage. At times the pace feels too slow, the characters walking around the stage without much action and purpose, and some scenes and events are simply uninteresting. Definitely a bit of editing could make the read more pleasurable.

However, I was glad that I stay with the book, because the ending was worth it. In the last fifty pages or so, everything picks up speed, like a train leaving a station, building up, building up, and then with a blast and a loud horn, it runs at you with full force. I closed the book with tears in my eyes, and realize that if not for all the little clues and information the author painstakingly paved along the road, it would be impossible to fully understand Nao’s revenge, and to fully understand Yukako’s gift. All of a sudden I feel like asking Aurelie, don’t stop, don’t stop, tell me more…

The Flamboya Tree: Memories of a Mother’s Wartime Courage

by Clara Olink Kelly

WARNING: THIS REVIEW MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS

This is such a beautiful and captivating story, of a strong mother protecting her three children (one of them only a few weeks old) during the four-life existence at a concentration camp in Java during WWII. The Japanese took control of the South Pacific Islands to ensure that no reinforcement or supplies can enter China during the war, and to obtain access to the valuable natural resourses such as oil and rubber. All the men and teenage boys were sent to labor camps, while the women and children lived in fenced villages under the sadistic rule of the Japanese soldiers.

This is indeed, a lesser known part of the history of WWII. I did not know, for example, that the local people at that time were so hostile to the Dutch rule and longing for independence, that a prisoner escaping from a camp would face greater danger among the natives and murdered brutally, that the hostile villagers would hurl stones and insults to the prisoners inside, rather than smuggling in food out of kindness. When the author’s brother was happily flying a kite he made, no doubt a lovely escape from his dreadful living condition, his kite was cruelly cut down amidst sneers and cheers from the other side of the fence. How heart wrenching it must be for the litte boy.

For me, the saddest part is not the period during the camp, but when they were in Bangkok waiting to return to Holland. For in the camp, the situation was horrendous with its constant threat of cruel punishment, humiliation and starvation, but it was similar to and not necessarily worse than what millions were suffering during the same time in history. By no way am I suggesting that they did not suffer enough, just that when one have read enough war memoirs, one gets some idea already what life was like under those circumstances.

Therefore, what was more shocking to me was their treatment after liberation. When the author was sick in the hospital, they put her on a table and poured water over her to wash her, collecting the water in a basin to be used for the next patient. She and her younger brother were too weak to feed themselves, so her older brother ate their bowl of rice gruel (could hardly blame the starving little boy); no nurse cared, until her mother was able to visit and found them near dying and had to carry them, one tucked under each arm, to take a bus back to their “home”. As the author said, the children didn’t care as they never knew, or hardly remember anything better, but for all the adults who know what normal life is like (being expatriates, many of the Europeans had lived life of luxury, pampered by servants), that must be despressing indeed not to find comfort and relief after liberation. It was the hope that had sustained them during the hardship of the camp. As the mother told the children stories about Holland, about snow, about Christmas and other things, they are fantasies for the children, but for her, it was a longing, a determination to experience these things again.

It was also painful to read of their grandmother’s initial reaction upon their return. Her remark of “Why didn’t you escape?” and her inability to understand how her grandchildren had such horrendous manners and didn’t wolf down the food she prepared (their stomach just couldn’t take in all that food).

This is a great testimony to a mother’s love for her children.

Pretty Birds

by Scott Simon

I picked up this book because I recognize Scott Simon from NPR. Simon is a NPR Weekend Edition host, and a journalist who has won many award including the Emmy and the Peabody. This is a novel based on his experience covering the war in Sarajevo and his interview with one of the teenage girl snipers.

During the conflict, both sides employed teenage girls to act as snipers. This free up men to battle in the front, and also for the fact that teenage girls have the cool, discipline and patience less common in boys of the same age. This story is not a biography but rather an active imagination based on his interviews.

Irena is a 17 year old with a Serbian father and Muslim mother. This fact doesn’t much concern her – what she is interested in, are her basketball team, her Air Jordan, her coach, and the little African Grey parrot she keeps, Pretty Bird. However, all that is changed when the Bosnian Serbs begin their campaign of ethnic cleansing, and Irena and her parents are brutalized and driven from their home on the mostly Serb side of town. They fled to her grandmother’s apartment, only to find her slain on the staircase. Irena begins working at a brewery, which is actually a front for a team of snipers. An assistant principal from her former high school spots the talent in Irena, and she becomes very good at her job.

This is a powerful story of human survivial in adversity. Time and again we are reminded of the humanness of all characters involved – ordinary people trying their best to survive, hoping for the best for their loved ones. Irena especially is a vibrant character, but others have their shining moments too, including the nurse at the hospital, the vet, and the other members at the brewery.

The story is made more impactful by the sense of humor throughout. When the driver is kidnapped and later moved by how much ransom his group is willing to pay, he is told that they are paying for his truck. When young Irena has a chance to talk to her Christian friend Amela over radio, they screams over the divorce of Prince Charles and Diana. A character tells a joke “What is the difference between here and Auschwitz?” “They have gas, we don’t”.

Admittedly, this story only tells one side of the story, and as a fiction rather than an unbiased news report, it does take side. However, one walks away from the book with a strong sense that war is brutal. It reduces people to live in unhuman condition, in divides friends into enemy.

Travels With A Tangerine: A Journey In The Footnotes Of Ibn Battutah

by Tim Mackintosh-Smith

I have to say it’s not a fast and easy read, but I am glad I did persevere to finish it. My first book to finish in 2009!

At moments the book does feel a bit repetitive, as the author visited one tomb after another, in unfamiliar places, of people I’ve never heard of (the maps in front were indispensable). He was following the 400-year-old footsteps of Ibn Battutah, the most famous Arabic traveller from Tangier (hence the Tangerine in the title – no other citrus was featured in the book). I am sure if I were more knowledgable about Middle Eastern culture and geography, I may find it more interesting; on the other hand, even were he to travel in search of European castles, Asian temples or Napa vineyards, things could still go stale after a while. What makes the book interesting was the human contact throughout his journey. Most of the people he met were friendly, easy-going, tolerant, cultured and generously hospitable. Incidentally, a few days ago I watched an Anthony Bourdain show, where he travelled to Saudi Arabia. His conclusion of his visit was in a similar tone, that he found the people open, generous and fun-loving, very different from the images we were usually shown or conditioned to conjour up.

The author is a scholarly traveller, and the amount of research he did about IB, his work and his period was evident. He did, however, write with a witty sense of humour. Not the laugh-out-loud type of J. Maarten Troost, but a subtle type that is more likely to joke at himself than his subjects.

Dear John

by Nicholas Sparks

It is a bit unusual for me to end up reading two of Spark’s books in a month as I am not particularly a big fan. I do however, like this a lot more than the other one I read, Nights in Rodanthe.

Nights in Rodanthe is about a magical weekend when two people fall in love. I found it somewhat unsatisfying: it’s so easy to have a perfect love for one weekend. Dear John starts similarly with two people falling in love, but it continues on to the not-quite-happily ever after, and we see the couple struggles as real life sets in. This gives me a much more authentic voice, and I feel so much more for John and Savannah as they try their best under the circumstances. Like most of Sparks’ books, the plot is rather predictable but the strength of the story lies not in any creative plots but in the telling of a very blood-and-flesh story that most readers can relate to.

Finding George Orwell in Burma

by Emma Larkin

Emma Larkin is the pseudonym for an American journalist born in Asia. She embarked on a journey to visit places in Burma, following the footsteps of the author George Orwell. George Orwell was stationed in Burma during his youth, his first post as an imperial policeman. Burma was an unpopular first choice for overseas posting, but was Orwell’s because of his family connections, his mother having grown up in Burma and part of the maternal family still living there.

In Burma (now Myanmar, although the new name is not recognized by opposing parties and minorities within the country), George Orwell was known more than an author though. He was known as “the prophet”, because his work, 1984 and Animal Farms, had eerily described the future of Burma, as the military took control, oppressed democracy and turned the country into a totalitarian regime who seriously repressing its citizen. Current residents feel that they are living through the story of 1984, where their every move and word is censored and reported.

Larkin travelled through Burma, to cities such as Mandalay and Rangoon. While many travellers see the poetic scenery and gentle people, a peaceful tropical paradise, (as a matter of fact, Burma used to be among the richest Asian countries and a major exporter of rice grown from its rich, delta soil) Larkin reported the undercurrent of oppression and hardship. She recorded some of the experience of ex-political prisoners and other freedom fighters, but the thickness of the air permiated the book: in conversations which ended mid-sentence, until a comment of food or weather brought the topic back on safer grounds; in mysteriously appeared men who suggested the author to retreat to her hotel; in the author’s growing paranoia: is the potted plant next to her coffee table bugged? Did someone steal her diary?

The quoted passages from George Orwell’s books echoed the present condition of the Burmese, as Larkin travelled in the seemingly timeless landscape, imagining Orwell’s life as she stood among the ruins of the colonial buildings. An excellent travelogue that capture the essence of the places she visited, interweaving fiction and fact, past and present. Well worth a read.