A friend of mine once told me about his spring break down in Rocky Point. He had taken a "drunk bus" along with a bunch of other ASU students down there, and there the travel company kept the supply of alcohol flowing to the extent that many students stayed drunk for a week. As this is my last spring, I debated for a moment, doing the whole Rocky point thing, and rejected it after a few seconds thought. Instead, Saori and I set out for the road less traveled, a loop which would take us through north and south Arizona and New Mexico.
We left Sunday afternoon, after my friends in Tucson agreed to host us for the night at the last minute. Sally and Jonathan lent us their minivan for the trip, which made the drive a lot more comfortable and convenient. We knew were headed to white sands national monument, but not a whole else other than some vauge destinations in New Mexico. Just outside of Tucson, we pulled into a Wal-Mart to see if they had sleds. We had it in mind to go sledding on the sand dunes once we arrived. No luck. The Wal-Mart was located in an edge city which bore a strikingly depressing resemblance to north Scottsdale. Actually on this trip, we saw many cities which had parts just like north Scottsdale, almost to the point where you could predict the stores in the shopping center: you had your Starbucks Coffee, the Michaels and WorldMarket, the BestBuy, the fresh mexican food chain, etc.
Leaving Wal-Mart behind, we drove up to Gates Pass, a high mountain pass which overlooks Tucson in the West. From there, Saori and I and another two dozen people watched the sun set across the valley laid out below us. It was slow, serene, and beautiful. It made me happy and hopeful, that these families and people of all sorts would make the effort to drive out to this spot, just to see something beautiful and natural. It never fails to amaze me either, the absolutely perfect blending of colors in the sky, the unbelievably crisp silhouettes of saguaros and paloverde trees against the sky. These are the things you really appreciate after working with photoshop for awhile.
After admiring the sunset, we drove into town to meet Cassie and Kevin at a Korean BBQ / Japanese restaurant. Soon after, we were joined by Whitney and a new friend of hers, Billy whom she knew from working at Blockbuster. We split a grill-it-yourself thing and also got a bit of sushi. It was really fun to see them again and to hear what was going on in their lives. There was a party of asians who at one point burst into song which was very strange. We spent that night at Cassie's apartment, crashing on the couch.
Monday morning saw us on the road again around 9 AM. Somehow, we never managed to get up before then the entire trip. We drove out of Tucson and headed east, a route I'd never taken before. I realized to my surprise, that I actually didn't mind the driving. I was good for several hours nonstop, traversing the countryside that I'd never seen before. It was a lot easier than the hellishly boring flatland between Phoenix and Tucson. Saori loves Tucson, she likes the greenery, and the small-town feel it has. It has its charm, but it still feels very slow and provincial to me.
We stopped at a few places along the way to New Mexico, rest stops to enjoy the scenery, little towns just to see what was there, that kind of thing. We took turns driving, and finally a bit after 5 PM, we passed through Las Cruces and into the White Sands Missile Range. I saw a sign for a museum on the base, so we turned off the main road and followed a single track to an army base at the edge of a ridge. Signs on the side of the road warned us to stay on the road to avoid live ordinance which might be around. At the gate, we realized the museum just closed, but talking to the checkpoint guards, we learned we could still drive in and see the outdoor missile park. The only thing was they wanted to check our vehicle registration and proof of insurance. I had a few panicked moments as I dug through the glove compartment of our borrowed vehicle, but both documents were sanely together in a single flip open view folder. They gave us a little sheet for our windshield and we drove into the base.
The weather was cool, but not cold, and the sky was a bit overcast when we went out to walk around. They had a lot of very old missile casings, from the experimental V-2s patterned on the German missile of WWII to some very large missiles designed to be tipped with nuclear warheads. They also had a Fat Man casing, which was identical to the one that housed the nuclear bomb that destroyed Nagasaki. Saori was shocked at how small it was, and how the amount of plutonium it had taken was smaller than a soccer ball.
We pressed on the dune park, getting in an hour before sunset. White Sands National Monument is definitly one of the more surreal places I've ever been. The monument is actually only half of the dune field, as the other half is on the missile range. Occasionally, they close the road between Las Cruces and Alamogordo during missile tests. Geographically, the dune field is in the middle of an even more massive flat valley, which stretches over 50 miles in all directions. The sand is white because its all gypsum sand, and its the slightly off-white bone or milk color.
When we first arrived, I tossed my sandals and walked around the dunes barefoot. The sand was cold. We had stopped at the first place to park, too eager to get onto the dunes, but then we drove on a little further to find a more quiet spot. There, on top of the white sandy dunes, we watched the sun set in the distance behind the mountains. The sand turned orange, then pink as the sun went down, casting incredible patterns. We sat for awhile until the park ranger drove by, informing everyone via megaphone that the park was locking its doors at 8 PM. I checked my watch. 6:30. No problem. The ranger continued. "The time is now 7:33." I realized that I'd forgotten to take the time change into account. We raced back across the dark dunes back to the van, and barely made it out of the park on time.
We got into Alamogordo and started looking for hotels. Saori had picked up a coupon book at one of the places we stopped and she was thumbing through it looking for cheap rooms. On a whim, we decided to grab one of the tiny motels off the main strip. I liked the name: "The White Sands Motel." It was run by an Indian woman (ALL of those motels seemed to be run by immigrants) who gave us a room for under $30. It was perfect for us. Easy, cheap, clean. The furniture was old, and the room smelled of old smoke but it had that great cheesy, quirky quality to it. We dropped our stuff and went out for fried chicken. Afterwards, we found a Big5 Sports. The sales guy kept calling me "bro" and sold us a plastic toboggan for the dunes. I asked about missile testing, as he told us about a few months ago, there had a been a series of tests the space of a few hours that caused earthquakes and shock waves to hit the town, rattling windows, and knocking all the shoeboxes off the back wall. Impacts like that can only be caused by nuclear weapons at that distance.
Tuesday morning, we grabbed a coffee and cinnamon roll at the motel office and drove back out to White Sands national monument. There, we drove to the center of the park and found the main sledding hill. Sledding on sand dunes is not as fun as it sounds, mostly because the sand just doesn't move fast enough. Saori and I were too heavy to ride the sled together- we just buried it in the sand build up in front. Everyone else had the disc sleds, mostly kids, so they were pretty light and they were still just kind of poking down the dune. It was fun anyway, and tiring trekking up the dune. After awhile we decided just to head out and walk out among the dunes.
Oddly, there was flooding in the area, so there were a few places with huge standing pools of crystal clear water a few inches deep. The gypsum sand gets really weird in these cases. It sometimes formed air pockets below the surface forming these weird rippling tubes, walking on saturated gypsum mud felt like walking on a damp thick carpeting. There was also these two layers of red and green which we figured were probably algae.
Anyway, it was out there that we found the places that were unmarked by footprints. There was the surreality we had looked for- where all you could see was the deep blue of a cloudless sky, and the blinding creamy white of the sand, thats all, two color fields. We trekked around taking photos and running down the dunes until our eyes began to burn with the glare.
Mar 16, 2007
Spring Break Photos
Well, I'm back from spring break. I'll give you the full details in a bit, but for now, some photos. We took a road trip down to Tucson, across New Mexico to white sands and Alamogordo, and on up to Santa Fe before looping back down through Flagstaff.
Click on the slideshow below to go see the full sized photos.
Spring Break
Click on the slideshow below to go see the full sized photos.
Spring Break
Mar 12, 2007
on the road
Saori and I are in Tucson, heading out to white sands. Stayed at Cassie's place. Good korean BBQ dinner with Whitney, her friend, Cassie and Kevin. But now its morning, the sun is shining, and its time to hit the dusty trail!
Mar 10, 2007
Welcome to Spring Break
I think I've found a good solution to how to get to work. I'm going to buy a car.
But in the meantime. I've discovered a great alternative. ASU president Michael Crow drives me downtown.
The way this works is that Crow saw through the establishment of a downtown campus for ASU. This campus has classes used by regular students at the Tempe campus, who really did not want to A) Fight traffic, or B) Pay for downtown parking. So part of the deal is a free shuttle bus which runs from ASU's tempe campus straight to downtown.
Friday morning, I biked to the shuttle stop on ASU in less than ten minutes. The shuttle bus left at 6:30 AM. I was the only one on it, which feels a little strange, but ok. The bus dropped me at Polk and First st, which was another ten minute bike ride to work. So I got my workplace at 7:05. I had time to bike around the neighborhood, and pop into a Jack in the Box for breakfast.
Next time, I'll take the 7 AM shuttle and get another half an hour of sleep in the morning.
Work was good, simple tasks to do, so I filled in the rest of the time really getting everything right in the programs, and doing some areal photography work over the site. I rode home with a bunch of chittering, giggling, Devil's Advocates, the peppy student guides and salespeople who give tours of ASU to graduating kids with thier parents. It's hard to believe there was so much enthusiasm for ASU. They were like evangleist youth groups spreading the Good Word, so pure was thier faith in ASU.
I got my two other books in the mail. One was Images of the City by Lynch, and the other was Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut. I love Vonnegut. His books are like tinted glasses to look at your world. Some books are good at drawing you in and making you forget the world around you. Others are good for making you look at the world around you. I like the book so far, Cat's Cradle was better, Vonnegut seems more resigned and embittered by the world around him in this one. Image of the City was recommended to me by my old history of architecture professor and friend Dr. Morton, while he was reviewing my project.
Listen: Friday was also my mid-semester review. Five of us pinned up in the hall outside our classroom at a time. One person got the board, and the other four shared two huge movable whiteboards which we pinned up on both sides. We completely took over the corridor and clogged it up. Our reviewers in the early part were actually two thirds of the Argentine faculty. Milagros, a faculty from southern Argentina, and Professor Claudio Vekstein, whom we all know from our many adventures south of the equator.
I went late in the day, but the reviewers really liked my work. The idea of putting up a facade of another building on the old mill was a really controvercial decision which made my studio teacher (art and theory background) nearly come to blows with Milagos (brutalist modernism background). It's fun when reviewers fight. Especially since they'll typically give you ammunition for later development. Everybody loved the patio on top of the grainery. That shot with the silhouette and the sunset nailed it. That was the money shot, even if it was completely fabricated. It's the idea of what they could see rather than the precise angle or height (I shot the sunset from on top of A mountain, a good several hundred feet above where the top of the grainery is).
Saori's studio was not so fortunate. Her studio all looked really unhappy leaving friday. Seems like Professor Spellman wasn't too happy with the state of things, or the amount of work. So there's lots of work for them over spring break. Our studio teacher told us that she didn't want us to worry about working over spring break.
After studio, Saori and I and Jamie (old roomate) met up with a bunch of grad student girls from our Buenos Aires trip, and we sat ate mexican food and drank margaritas and talked for about two hours. One of them summed up the problem with all our of studios/thesises. "We're halfway through the semester, but we're not halfway done yet."
So that was friday. Today I picked up Sally and Jonathan's van at thier apartment and took it in for an oil change which was part of the deal that I made with them to borrow it over spring break. Better, really since Sally left me money for it too. Anyway, after the oil change, I watched a movie, relaxed, read about half of Breakfast of Champions and then worked on my sketchbook.
My sketchbook, incidently, has about 320 more pages that I have to fill with drawings and sketches. This sketchbook when I turn it in will consititute most of my grade for my sketching class. So there is some serious work to do, especially considering that I have five weeks.
Five weeks. I have five weeks of school before graduation. I need to get on the ball with figuring out all the finalities and nicieties of the graduation ceremony and protocalls. And I need to figure out a place to live too, as the lease here is up in mid may.
But in the meantime. I've discovered a great alternative. ASU president Michael Crow drives me downtown.
The way this works is that Crow saw through the establishment of a downtown campus for ASU. This campus has classes used by regular students at the Tempe campus, who really did not want to A) Fight traffic, or B) Pay for downtown parking. So part of the deal is a free shuttle bus which runs from ASU's tempe campus straight to downtown.
Friday morning, I biked to the shuttle stop on ASU in less than ten minutes. The shuttle bus left at 6:30 AM. I was the only one on it, which feels a little strange, but ok. The bus dropped me at Polk and First st, which was another ten minute bike ride to work. So I got my workplace at 7:05. I had time to bike around the neighborhood, and pop into a Jack in the Box for breakfast.
Next time, I'll take the 7 AM shuttle and get another half an hour of sleep in the morning.
Work was good, simple tasks to do, so I filled in the rest of the time really getting everything right in the programs, and doing some areal photography work over the site. I rode home with a bunch of chittering, giggling, Devil's Advocates, the peppy student guides and salespeople who give tours of ASU to graduating kids with thier parents. It's hard to believe there was so much enthusiasm for ASU. They were like evangleist youth groups spreading the Good Word, so pure was thier faith in ASU.
I got my two other books in the mail. One was Images of the City by Lynch, and the other was Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut. I love Vonnegut. His books are like tinted glasses to look at your world. Some books are good at drawing you in and making you forget the world around you. Others are good for making you look at the world around you. I like the book so far, Cat's Cradle was better, Vonnegut seems more resigned and embittered by the world around him in this one. Image of the City was recommended to me by my old history of architecture professor and friend Dr. Morton, while he was reviewing my project.
Listen: Friday was also my mid-semester review. Five of us pinned up in the hall outside our classroom at a time. One person got the board, and the other four shared two huge movable whiteboards which we pinned up on both sides. We completely took over the corridor and clogged it up. Our reviewers in the early part were actually two thirds of the Argentine faculty. Milagros, a faculty from southern Argentina, and Professor Claudio Vekstein, whom we all know from our many adventures south of the equator.
I went late in the day, but the reviewers really liked my work. The idea of putting up a facade of another building on the old mill was a really controvercial decision which made my studio teacher (art and theory background) nearly come to blows with Milagos (brutalist modernism background). It's fun when reviewers fight. Especially since they'll typically give you ammunition for later development. Everybody loved the patio on top of the grainery. That shot with the silhouette and the sunset nailed it. That was the money shot, even if it was completely fabricated. It's the idea of what they could see rather than the precise angle or height (I shot the sunset from on top of A mountain, a good several hundred feet above where the top of the grainery is).
Saori's studio was not so fortunate. Her studio all looked really unhappy leaving friday. Seems like Professor Spellman wasn't too happy with the state of things, or the amount of work. So there's lots of work for them over spring break. Our studio teacher told us that she didn't want us to worry about working over spring break.
After studio, Saori and I and Jamie (old roomate) met up with a bunch of grad student girls from our Buenos Aires trip, and we sat ate mexican food and drank margaritas and talked for about two hours. One of them summed up the problem with all our of studios/thesises. "We're halfway through the semester, but we're not halfway done yet."
So that was friday. Today I picked up Sally and Jonathan's van at thier apartment and took it in for an oil change which was part of the deal that I made with them to borrow it over spring break. Better, really since Sally left me money for it too. Anyway, after the oil change, I watched a movie, relaxed, read about half of Breakfast of Champions and then worked on my sketchbook.
My sketchbook, incidently, has about 320 more pages that I have to fill with drawings and sketches. This sketchbook when I turn it in will consititute most of my grade for my sketching class. So there is some serious work to do, especially considering that I have five weeks.
Five weeks. I have five weeks of school before graduation. I need to get on the ball with figuring out all the finalities and nicieties of the graduation ceremony and protocalls. And I need to figure out a place to live too, as the lease here is up in mid may.
Mar 6, 2007
Your Education Tax Dollars At Work!
In studio I'm working on a redevelopment of the mill and grain silos on Mill Avenue in Tempe. My proposal as you will see includes the creation of a shaded outdoor stage between the two buildings, an art gallery inside the old mill building, and a cafe on top of the mill itself.
In addition, I am also including images of a prototype transportable stage/gallery which folds up into a shipping container size. It has an image of a typical house on the front at full scale, fake grass to roll out, and a gallery to showcase local art inside.
studio work
In addition, I am also including images of a prototype transportable stage/gallery which folds up into a shipping container size. It has an image of a typical house on the front at full scale, fake grass to roll out, and a gallery to showcase local art inside.
studio work
Mar 3, 2007
Week in Review
Snapshots from this week...
I received my copy of S,M,L,XL by Rem Koolhaas in the mail. Got a great deal for it online. This is a serious tome about five inches thick cataloging all the projects done by OMA and Koolhaas, in addition to some written treatesies, poetry, random works, projects, art, and installations. It's a like a interpretive encyclopedia of architectonic culture. The only organization is by the scale of the project, hence the name. Its best read by flipping open a page randomly and reading whats on and around it.
Also in the mail, I got the DVD dad put together of our trip to Egypt, including some photos from Abu Dhabi, all to the soundtrack of traditional middle eastern music.
Wednesday we had a lecture from Nan Ellin on Integral Urbanism, the title of her new book. Nan is a longterm professor at ASU and is currently heading up the PURL (phoenix urban research laboratory) downtown. Anyway, she gave a pretty good talk, also highlighting another book which just came out, PHX: 21st Century City , which highlights contemporary architecture in the valley of the sun. Looks pretty cool, actually, I may have to pick that up. Her lecture was good, but seemed to piece together a lot of really obvious things. The fun part was when she talked about the necessity of three types of architecture- that which comforts, that which raises awareness of a circumstance or context, and that which shocks. I whimsically shortened it to "ahh..." "ah!" and "AHHH!"
Our studio professor finally took a look at my work friday. I'd been working on my own for about two weeks and so I had a lot to show her. She was really enthusiastic about the idea, and basically recommended I just keep going with what I was already on.
Before this, she took us through some websites for inspiration on how to visualize the city and urban conditions. Among them SpaceHijackers.org, self described "anarchitects" who fight corporate and institution owned spaces by various actions, protests, and vandalism. Other, less politic sites she showed us was govcom.org, which is an extremely interesting issue-mapping webcrawler which attempts to map how close the cause of a issue is to the locations where the issue is happening. Combines news search engines, mapping software, google-esque link monitors, that kind of thing.
Speaking of news, I added a new website to my list of regular news providers- www.janes.com, which is basically a huge privately owned intelligence-gathering network, mostly focusing on movements and activities of weapon technology, armies, and politics around the world. Wish I had a subscription.
Last night, Saori and I drove downtown to check out a lecture by Steve Martino, a landscape architect who has carved out a lucrative and easygoing niche of extemely expensive modern landscaping out in Fountain Hills and in Scottsdale. Lots of perforated Cor-ten steel, colored concrete, that kind of thing. All very strongly in the vein of Scottsdale Palm Springs Modernism.
We had a huge problem finding parking, as it there was also a Phoenix Sun's game going on at the same time. It was actually held in the AIA building downtown on 3rd and Washington. It was dark but I knew straightaway which building we were going to. Its an AIA building, so of course it had to have been the ugliest, most inappropriate Greek Classical building with white collumns and pilasters. What is it about buildings associated with the production of architecture that they have to be hideous and awful? Really lousy signage.
We got there half an hour late, and he concluded his lecture a scant twenty minutes later. Small crowd of people, maybe 20 or so, and five more or so arrived after we did. The $5 parking fee was made up however, by the wonderful selection of gourmet cheeses and beer they had laid out. Really nice chedder, smoked gouda, and pepper jack cheese. Aldo popped in right after we did and we stood around talking with the other half dozen landscape architecture students who were also in attendance, drinking beer and snacking on cheeses.
Afterwards, we all decided to go try out Trax, a bar I'd seen biking to and from school. I had major misgivings about Trax at first. It looked like second-use of a building, and it was tucked way out of the way, on the west side of the tracks, nearly at the point where the line crosses Tempe Town Lake. It's a good ten minutes walking distance from the closest bar on Mill Avenue. With its red and black color scheme, blind main entry, and secluded location, I first mistook it for a strip club. After reading some positive stuff about it, I looked at its website and found it was actually more of a lounge with live music and outdoor seating.
We were all pleasantly surprised with Trax. It's a little older crowd, the parking lot was full, but the interior was very uncrowded. The size of this bar is huge, with a lot of space dedicated to the outdoor stage where there was a decent band playing. They can handle a lot of people well. The interior decoration is playful modern, strong red and black colors, lots of rough welded steel fittings and door, unobtrusive, low modern black couches separated by large, low underlit steel tables which suggest dancing on top of them. The bar is also decorated with huge black and white photography of the female form. Aldo bought the first round of drinks; $2 dos equis, and we all went outside to the patio. The patio has nice iron tables and chairs, and its dimly lit. The coolest thing about it is they have black steel 55-gallon drums which serve as fire pits, so we stood around these for awhile talking. After awhile the train rolled by which was really cool to watch.
So that was my Friday night.
IHOP breakfast this morning, and Saori and I talked about culture makers vs culture supporters and their aspirations over french toast. I'm so glad I don't work at IHOP. When we were paying at the end, one of the cashiers starts taking to the other.
"My stomach hurts."
"Mine does too."
"I think I'm going to die."
"Then die already."
I've started reading a book called Hard-Boiled Wonderland and The End of the World. It's a very surreal kafkaesque novel with strong cyberpunk overtones. The author is Japanese, so its interesting reading cyberpunk from that cultural standpoint. It's a good book. Hard to put down.
I received my copy of S,M,L,XL by Rem Koolhaas in the mail. Got a great deal for it online. This is a serious tome about five inches thick cataloging all the projects done by OMA and Koolhaas, in addition to some written treatesies, poetry, random works, projects, art, and installations. It's a like a interpretive encyclopedia of architectonic culture. The only organization is by the scale of the project, hence the name. Its best read by flipping open a page randomly and reading whats on and around it.
Also in the mail, I got the DVD dad put together of our trip to Egypt, including some photos from Abu Dhabi, all to the soundtrack of traditional middle eastern music.
Wednesday we had a lecture from Nan Ellin on Integral Urbanism, the title of her new book. Nan is a longterm professor at ASU and is currently heading up the PURL (phoenix urban research laboratory) downtown. Anyway, she gave a pretty good talk, also highlighting another book which just came out, PHX: 21st Century City , which highlights contemporary architecture in the valley of the sun. Looks pretty cool, actually, I may have to pick that up. Her lecture was good, but seemed to piece together a lot of really obvious things. The fun part was when she talked about the necessity of three types of architecture- that which comforts, that which raises awareness of a circumstance or context, and that which shocks. I whimsically shortened it to "ahh..." "ah!" and "AHHH!"
Our studio professor finally took a look at my work friday. I'd been working on my own for about two weeks and so I had a lot to show her. She was really enthusiastic about the idea, and basically recommended I just keep going with what I was already on.
Before this, she took us through some websites for inspiration on how to visualize the city and urban conditions. Among them SpaceHijackers.org, self described "anarchitects" who fight corporate and institution owned spaces by various actions, protests, and vandalism. Other, less politic sites she showed us was govcom.org, which is an extremely interesting issue-mapping webcrawler which attempts to map how close the cause of a issue is to the locations where the issue is happening. Combines news search engines, mapping software, google-esque link monitors, that kind of thing.
Speaking of news, I added a new website to my list of regular news providers- www.janes.com, which is basically a huge privately owned intelligence-gathering network, mostly focusing on movements and activities of weapon technology, armies, and politics around the world. Wish I had a subscription.
Last night, Saori and I drove downtown to check out a lecture by Steve Martino, a landscape architect who has carved out a lucrative and easygoing niche of extemely expensive modern landscaping out in Fountain Hills and in Scottsdale. Lots of perforated Cor-ten steel, colored concrete, that kind of thing. All very strongly in the vein of Scottsdale Palm Springs Modernism.
We had a huge problem finding parking, as it there was also a Phoenix Sun's game going on at the same time. It was actually held in the AIA building downtown on 3rd and Washington. It was dark but I knew straightaway which building we were going to. Its an AIA building, so of course it had to have been the ugliest, most inappropriate Greek Classical building with white collumns and pilasters. What is it about buildings associated with the production of architecture that they have to be hideous and awful? Really lousy signage.
We got there half an hour late, and he concluded his lecture a scant twenty minutes later. Small crowd of people, maybe 20 or so, and five more or so arrived after we did. The $5 parking fee was made up however, by the wonderful selection of gourmet cheeses and beer they had laid out. Really nice chedder, smoked gouda, and pepper jack cheese. Aldo popped in right after we did and we stood around talking with the other half dozen landscape architecture students who were also in attendance, drinking beer and snacking on cheeses.
Afterwards, we all decided to go try out Trax, a bar I'd seen biking to and from school. I had major misgivings about Trax at first. It looked like second-use of a building, and it was tucked way out of the way, on the west side of the tracks, nearly at the point where the line crosses Tempe Town Lake. It's a good ten minutes walking distance from the closest bar on Mill Avenue. With its red and black color scheme, blind main entry, and secluded location, I first mistook it for a strip club. After reading some positive stuff about it, I looked at its website and found it was actually more of a lounge with live music and outdoor seating.
We were all pleasantly surprised with Trax. It's a little older crowd, the parking lot was full, but the interior was very uncrowded. The size of this bar is huge, with a lot of space dedicated to the outdoor stage where there was a decent band playing. They can handle a lot of people well. The interior decoration is playful modern, strong red and black colors, lots of rough welded steel fittings and door, unobtrusive, low modern black couches separated by large, low underlit steel tables which suggest dancing on top of them. The bar is also decorated with huge black and white photography of the female form. Aldo bought the first round of drinks; $2 dos equis, and we all went outside to the patio. The patio has nice iron tables and chairs, and its dimly lit. The coolest thing about it is they have black steel 55-gallon drums which serve as fire pits, so we stood around these for awhile talking. After awhile the train rolled by which was really cool to watch.
So that was my Friday night.
IHOP breakfast this morning, and Saori and I talked about culture makers vs culture supporters and their aspirations over french toast. I'm so glad I don't work at IHOP. When we were paying at the end, one of the cashiers starts taking to the other.
"My stomach hurts."
"Mine does too."
"I think I'm going to die."
"Then die already."
I've started reading a book called Hard-Boiled Wonderland and The End of the World. It's a very surreal kafkaesque novel with strong cyberpunk overtones. The author is Japanese, so its interesting reading cyberpunk from that cultural standpoint. It's a good book. Hard to put down.
Feb 26, 2007
Maroon and Gold
Finally got my transcript straightened out, so I applied to graduate this morning. Got a receipt and my tassels. My GPA was above 3.8 last semester, so I'm going to be graduating Summa Cum Laude, so I'm very happy about that. Wow, I can't believe I'm graduating. Just wanted to share.
Feb 25, 2007
And now, for something completely different
Friday was a surreal day.
I began by going to bed at 3 and waking up at 6 for work. I left my house at 6:25 on my bike, and arrived at work at 7:15. I live less than a minute walk from a bus stop, and a ten minute walk from a bus stop on a line which goes directly to my destination. The distance between my house and my work is about ten miles. This was the fastest I've ever gotten to work without a car. I dare say there is something a bit off about this whole arrangement. I worked the morning, and then biked the ten miles back home. Actually going home was a lot better since I discovered I could bike along a trail along a canal which ran diagonally towards Tempe. The streets of Phoenix and its sidewalks are in terrible condition, occasionally not even fit for human use, let alone bikers. I try not to ride on the streets anyway as drivers in Phoenix pride themselves on being some of the worst in the country, and are about as observant and caring to bicyclists as a windshield is to flies on the autobahn. Especially in downtown phoenix, which is totally under construction at least until Sky Harbor Airport finishes buying all of it.
One of the studios in our semester went to New Orleans a few weeks ago. Saori's studio road tripped out to San Diego. Another studio went to LA to look at urban forms there.
Our studio took a trip across the parking lot to Gammage Auditorium.
In some strange tie-in to our studio, our professor wanted us to experience a show called "Guided Tour." This is put on by a British performance artist named Peter Reder in ASU's Gammage. From his website, it is described as
Guided Tour is a promenade performance sited in an historic building. It's a tourist experience for the disenchanted, a quiet interrogation of the notion of the authentic and our thirst for the original. Guided Tour was premiered at McEwan Hall at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2005, in association with the Traverse Theatre as part of the British Council Showcase, and has since been presented at the Tretyakov Gallery www.tretyakovgallery.ru/english/ Moscow and in Bucharest in 2006.
In this case, he was using Gammage. It was very surreal and pretty funny if you get British humor. He started the show by explaining that he played the role of the tour guide and asked us if there was anything in particular we wanted him to tell us, like if we wanted Gammage to be haunted, for example. There was a large group, about half of us students, and we followed him around. The first thing he pointed out was that his picture on the posters outside the box office was much bigger than Billy Crystal's and elaborated on the intense rivalry they had. We of course had been well warned that the facts on this tour were not necessarily true.
Then he led us outside up the ramp of the building to point out and discuss at length the significance of the Twin Palms hotel, and IHOP as its functioning breakfast room. The tour was a strange mix of guided tour of the spaces without really explaining them, and slides and video of people who "could have been" relatives and family members of his. My favorite moment of the 'tour' was when he brought us to the bust of Wright, and told us about the great and important works of Wright and how this wasn't one of them. He then said that since we were architecture student's he wouldn't talk about the design aspects which we already knew but would instead elaborate on the strange, lewd, and lurid personal life of FLW. We stopped in front of a glass case of old photos of women and he took on a guided tour of FLW's mistresses, wives, daughters, and other strange people in his life and the doom which seemed to follow all of them.
We finished the 'tour' watching a movie of his mother, very experiential absurdest non-speaking, non-explained piece, in the sub-basement workshop of the lyric opera theater, and getting let out from one of the loading bays. One of my friends from studio turned to me suddenly and asked "what the hell did I just do with the last hour and a half of my life?" I could only shrug. I got some of it, but the last ten minutes of video totally lost me.
Saturday Saori and I took the day off, mostly bicycling around Papago Park (I was surprisingly not sore from my 2o miles the day before) and taking photos of the canal system there for her studio. That night, we went to Janette's apartment for a reunion party with people from the Buenos Aires trip. We brought a bottle of Caxhaca 51, which Janette promptly hid from the other partygoers. There was sangria, there were tapas, and there were, miraculously, empanadas. I got the address of a store in Phoenix that has them and apparently they also have Mate and all of the good herb's paraphernalia.
Today was a work day. Lots of reading and sketching, and blogging.
I began by going to bed at 3 and waking up at 6 for work. I left my house at 6:25 on my bike, and arrived at work at 7:15. I live less than a minute walk from a bus stop, and a ten minute walk from a bus stop on a line which goes directly to my destination. The distance between my house and my work is about ten miles. This was the fastest I've ever gotten to work without a car. I dare say there is something a bit off about this whole arrangement. I worked the morning, and then biked the ten miles back home. Actually going home was a lot better since I discovered I could bike along a trail along a canal which ran diagonally towards Tempe. The streets of Phoenix and its sidewalks are in terrible condition, occasionally not even fit for human use, let alone bikers. I try not to ride on the streets anyway as drivers in Phoenix pride themselves on being some of the worst in the country, and are about as observant and caring to bicyclists as a windshield is to flies on the autobahn. Especially in downtown phoenix, which is totally under construction at least until Sky Harbor Airport finishes buying all of it.
One of the studios in our semester went to New Orleans a few weeks ago. Saori's studio road tripped out to San Diego. Another studio went to LA to look at urban forms there.
Our studio took a trip across the parking lot to Gammage Auditorium.
In some strange tie-in to our studio, our professor wanted us to experience a show called "Guided Tour." This is put on by a British performance artist named Peter Reder in ASU's Gammage. From his website, it is described as
Guided Tour is a promenade performance sited in an historic building. It's a tourist experience for the disenchanted, a quiet interrogation of the notion of the authentic and our thirst for the original. Guided Tour was premiered at McEwan Hall at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2005, in association with the Traverse Theatre as part of the British Council Showcase, and has since been presented at the Tretyakov Gallery www.tretyakovgallery.ru/english/ Moscow and in Bucharest in 2006.
In this case, he was using Gammage. It was very surreal and pretty funny if you get British humor. He started the show by explaining that he played the role of the tour guide and asked us if there was anything in particular we wanted him to tell us, like if we wanted Gammage to be haunted, for example. There was a large group, about half of us students, and we followed him around. The first thing he pointed out was that his picture on the posters outside the box office was much bigger than Billy Crystal's and elaborated on the intense rivalry they had. We of course had been well warned that the facts on this tour were not necessarily true.
Then he led us outside up the ramp of the building to point out and discuss at length the significance of the Twin Palms hotel, and IHOP as its functioning breakfast room. The tour was a strange mix of guided tour of the spaces without really explaining them, and slides and video of people who "could have been" relatives and family members of his. My favorite moment of the 'tour' was when he brought us to the bust of Wright, and told us about the great and important works of Wright and how this wasn't one of them. He then said that since we were architecture student's he wouldn't talk about the design aspects which we already knew but would instead elaborate on the strange, lewd, and lurid personal life of FLW. We stopped in front of a glass case of old photos of women and he took on a guided tour of FLW's mistresses, wives, daughters, and other strange people in his life and the doom which seemed to follow all of them.
We finished the 'tour' watching a movie of his mother, very experiential absurdest non-speaking, non-explained piece, in the sub-basement workshop of the lyric opera theater, and getting let out from one of the loading bays. One of my friends from studio turned to me suddenly and asked "what the hell did I just do with the last hour and a half of my life?" I could only shrug. I got some of it, but the last ten minutes of video totally lost me.
Saturday Saori and I took the day off, mostly bicycling around Papago Park (I was surprisingly not sore from my 2o miles the day before) and taking photos of the canal system there for her studio. That night, we went to Janette's apartment for a reunion party with people from the Buenos Aires trip. We brought a bottle of Caxhaca 51, which Janette promptly hid from the other partygoers. There was sangria, there were tapas, and there were, miraculously, empanadas. I got the address of a store in Phoenix that has them and apparently they also have Mate and all of the good herb's paraphernalia.
Today was a work day. Lots of reading and sketching, and blogging.
Alec 2.2 is Solar Powered, made of Nontoxic Materials, and LEED compliant
To continue-
Sustainable design is a particularly hot topic in architecture because buildings consume nearly half of ALL energy produced in the US. Of that, most energy is spent on Heating and Cooling and Lighting
Wednesday was another "mandatory" lecture. I finally pieced together why the faculty are using such aggressive language: the faculty are getting into trouble with the administration because the student turn out at the lectures are low. Wednesday's lecture was actually quite interesting because it was webcast called The 2010 Imperative. Click here to see it. For those who don't know, a webcast is usually live digital video which is published on the internet at a specific time for anyone on the internet to log in and watch and comment. I was surprised at how realistic the speakers were, discussing the necessary moves by politicians, building material manufactures, colleges, etc. more importantly, setting specific timetables and goals. The Imperative of 2010 is that by then design schools will be teaching mainly ecological instead of architectonic design.
This whole thing is actually part of a larger program called the 2030 challenge issued to cities. The gist is that by 2030, all buildings will be carbon neutral to operate- i.e. need no outside energy. Possible, but difficult.
The tone of the speakers was really interesting to me. They talked very straight, very dry, but they seemed to have the manner of instructing the passengers of the Titanic to move to one side of try to tip the ship enough that it misses the iceberg. There was a palpable nervousness and desperation which seemed to come through which was the unnerving thing. Like Noah giving swimming lessons.
Interestingly, there was little talk about developing nations. We're still the number one emitter of carbon dioxide and pollution, but China and Russia will surpass us in less than 2 years I bet. China's already using more coal and fast gaining on oil consumption. The fires that slash and burn squatters set in Indonesia account for an obscenely huge slice of the global CO2 emissions, but we didn't discuss them either. I have a feeling we're going to arrive at a very Danish point in 2010-2020, when we've cleaned up our act mostly through legislation and pop demand/culture, and we're going to look around and realize that while we've struggled so hard to curb and diminish our emissions and pollution, China and Russia will be hitting their stride economically speaking. I have to tell you, there aren't many ecological lobbyists in those countries. To be blunt, it will have to be strictly economic, and short-term at that, imperatives for those countries to take note and change their power and consumption practices.
But I digress.
The "simple little box" I titled my earlier blog referred to a speaker who asked "why can't they just put a simple little box in the bottom of the screen in whatever design program you're using which will tell you how much carbon emissions your building would have. That way, whenever you made a design decision, it could show you if it increased the carbon emissions or reduced them." There are a few small problems with this little box.
It would have to be a massive program which could calculate not only heat gain depending on the position and location of windows AND shading by other structures AND taking all the materials of the structure into account working interdependently, but it would also have to account for the carbon cost of every quantity of material, AND take local weather and lighting into account in all of its calculations. Besides the heating and cooling, it would also have to be a light-rendering engine which could calculate wattage, lumens, AND required lighting levels for each state code applied to every space in the building. In short, you're talking about three or four stand alone programs along with some that don't even exist yet. This is hardly a little box.
OK! Enough with that day!
Sustainable design is a particularly hot topic in architecture because buildings consume nearly half of ALL energy produced in the US. Of that, most energy is spent on Heating and Cooling and Lighting
Wednesday was another "mandatory" lecture. I finally pieced together why the faculty are using such aggressive language: the faculty are getting into trouble with the administration because the student turn out at the lectures are low. Wednesday's lecture was actually quite interesting because it was webcast called The 2010 Imperative. Click here to see it. For those who don't know, a webcast is usually live digital video which is published on the internet at a specific time for anyone on the internet to log in and watch and comment. I was surprised at how realistic the speakers were, discussing the necessary moves by politicians, building material manufactures, colleges, etc. more importantly, setting specific timetables and goals. The Imperative of 2010 is that by then design schools will be teaching mainly ecological instead of architectonic design.
This whole thing is actually part of a larger program called the 2030 challenge issued to cities. The gist is that by 2030, all buildings will be carbon neutral to operate- i.e. need no outside energy. Possible, but difficult.
The tone of the speakers was really interesting to me. They talked very straight, very dry, but they seemed to have the manner of instructing the passengers of the Titanic to move to one side of try to tip the ship enough that it misses the iceberg. There was a palpable nervousness and desperation which seemed to come through which was the unnerving thing. Like Noah giving swimming lessons.
Interestingly, there was little talk about developing nations. We're still the number one emitter of carbon dioxide and pollution, but China and Russia will surpass us in less than 2 years I bet. China's already using more coal and fast gaining on oil consumption. The fires that slash and burn squatters set in Indonesia account for an obscenely huge slice of the global CO2 emissions, but we didn't discuss them either. I have a feeling we're going to arrive at a very Danish point in 2010-2020, when we've cleaned up our act mostly through legislation and pop demand/culture, and we're going to look around and realize that while we've struggled so hard to curb and diminish our emissions and pollution, China and Russia will be hitting their stride economically speaking. I have to tell you, there aren't many ecological lobbyists in those countries. To be blunt, it will have to be strictly economic, and short-term at that, imperatives for those countries to take note and change their power and consumption practices.
But I digress.
The "simple little box" I titled my earlier blog referred to a speaker who asked "why can't they just put a simple little box in the bottom of the screen in whatever design program you're using which will tell you how much carbon emissions your building would have. That way, whenever you made a design decision, it could show you if it increased the carbon emissions or reduced them." There are a few small problems with this little box.
It would have to be a massive program which could calculate not only heat gain depending on the position and location of windows AND shading by other structures AND taking all the materials of the structure into account working interdependently, but it would also have to account for the carbon cost of every quantity of material, AND take local weather and lighting into account in all of its calculations. Besides the heating and cooling, it would also have to be a light-rendering engine which could calculate wattage, lumens, AND required lighting levels for each state code applied to every space in the building. In short, you're talking about three or four stand alone programs along with some that don't even exist yet. This is hardly a little box.
OK! Enough with that day!
Feb 20, 2007
"Just a little simple box"
Had a pretty good weekend. After waking up friday morning at 5:45 AM for work, I decided to repeat the process the next day to meet for Habitat for Humanity. I met the group in the parking lot over by Gammage at 6:30 AM. The build coordinator, a radically conservative republican in design management, another guy in planning who knew all my friends in architecture but we'd just never met before since I don't go out much, and three young guys who SCREAMED freshman. What is it about freshman that make them seem so young? Their manic eagerness? Their desperate humor? Maybe its because they have something to prove. Anyway.
When I last left Valley of the Sun Habitat for Humanity, they had just opened their new store of donated fixtures and building materials. Since my return, they aquired the warehouse behind the warehouse the store is in and turned it into a materials storehouse and workshop. This was our destination this sunday. It turns out that the last few sundays they've been taking willing volunteers to the warehouses to prefabricate wall sections. These wall sections, once built, can be dragged out to the site and pushed into place by site volunteers, especially useful in so called "blitz builds" where volunteers rapidly construct a series of houses.
It was ok by me, despite the gorgeous day we were working in climate controlled comfort, and putting stuff togather by hammer and nail. I really do hammering together walls, theres something oddly satisfying about the whole thing, the solidity and reality of the nail, the hammer, and the wood. Where before there was blank wood, I have imposed order, enforced it upon the bare wood to make a skeleton of a home which will last a dozen years at least. The only thing was that my hands became really sore and tired after hammering nearly nonstop for 8 hours.
We took an hour for lunch and drove down a place nearby on 7th st. and Donovan (?) Durrango (?) whatever the street north of the I-10 is. It's a tiny Mexican counter restaurant called Carolina's and by the accolates on the wall, apparently they have the best tortillas in Arizona. Despite its small size, it was packed with people of all colors and socioeconomic levels. Small, dingy, hole in the wall kind of place. I knew it would be good. I got some tacos and they were decent, not the best Mexican I've ever had, but solid fare nonetheless.
After we finished building around 2, I biked home to grab my bag, and biked down to safeway, a trek of slightly less than three miles. Picked up as many groceries I could take in, and tied to, my backpack, and biked home. Also stopped by a little market I found near my apartment, something between a Food City and a Circle K. Sells tons of junk food and sodas, but also has a fruit and vegetable aisle. Made a welcome home spaghetti dinner for Saori with mixed salad and those easy Italian Parmesan turnover things one makes with store biscuits.
Monday in studio, we tore apart a road atlas of Phoenix metro area and pinned up all the squares on the wall to make a street map about ten feet wide. The focus of the studio is on the city itself, so it was an good start. It was interesting, because we stopped and talked about places on the map for about half an hour, just oddities and interesting points, etc. Once you get that kind of resolution, you can see exactly how places are related.
Our teacher was telling us about one big house in Chandler near the intersection of Warner and Kyrene. I was intriged so I looked it up. Its a huge Tudor mansion, 12,000 sq ft on a rolling green grass estate right off of Kyrene. Handcarved finishings, a little slice of northern Europe in southern Phoenix. Anyway, I found an interesting point, so I dug in and discovered, like all interesting houses, that this one also had an interesting owner. The original builder was a construction magnate, Phil Eckard (or something like that) who had it constructed in 1984. He sold it about ten years later to another guy, Cable Rosenberg, who was another self made businessman with a string of used-car dealerships. However, the house is currently for sale for the low price of twelve million dollars (no joke).
I wonder if every city has its strange history mansions. We can't forget either, the palatial mansion in PV belonging to Pierre Falcone, billionaire, politico, philanthropist, international arms dealer.
I'll tell you about today later. I've written enough and its time for bed. I have work tomorrow.
When I last left Valley of the Sun Habitat for Humanity, they had just opened their new store of donated fixtures and building materials. Since my return, they aquired the warehouse behind the warehouse the store is in and turned it into a materials storehouse and workshop. This was our destination this sunday. It turns out that the last few sundays they've been taking willing volunteers to the warehouses to prefabricate wall sections. These wall sections, once built, can be dragged out to the site and pushed into place by site volunteers, especially useful in so called "blitz builds" where volunteers rapidly construct a series of houses.
It was ok by me, despite the gorgeous day we were working in climate controlled comfort, and putting stuff togather by hammer and nail. I really do hammering together walls, theres something oddly satisfying about the whole thing, the solidity and reality of the nail, the hammer, and the wood. Where before there was blank wood, I have imposed order, enforced it upon the bare wood to make a skeleton of a home which will last a dozen years at least. The only thing was that my hands became really sore and tired after hammering nearly nonstop for 8 hours.
We took an hour for lunch and drove down a place nearby on 7th st. and Donovan (?) Durrango (?) whatever the street north of the I-10 is. It's a tiny Mexican counter restaurant called Carolina's and by the accolates on the wall, apparently they have the best tortillas in Arizona. Despite its small size, it was packed with people of all colors and socioeconomic levels. Small, dingy, hole in the wall kind of place. I knew it would be good. I got some tacos and they were decent, not the best Mexican I've ever had, but solid fare nonetheless.
After we finished building around 2, I biked home to grab my bag, and biked down to safeway, a trek of slightly less than three miles. Picked up as many groceries I could take in, and tied to, my backpack, and biked home. Also stopped by a little market I found near my apartment, something between a Food City and a Circle K. Sells tons of junk food and sodas, but also has a fruit and vegetable aisle. Made a welcome home spaghetti dinner for Saori with mixed salad and those easy Italian Parmesan turnover things one makes with store biscuits.
Monday in studio, we tore apart a road atlas of Phoenix metro area and pinned up all the squares on the wall to make a street map about ten feet wide. The focus of the studio is on the city itself, so it was an good start. It was interesting, because we stopped and talked about places on the map for about half an hour, just oddities and interesting points, etc. Once you get that kind of resolution, you can see exactly how places are related.
Our teacher was telling us about one big house in Chandler near the intersection of Warner and Kyrene. I was intriged so I looked it up. Its a huge Tudor mansion, 12,000 sq ft on a rolling green grass estate right off of Kyrene. Handcarved finishings, a little slice of northern Europe in southern Phoenix. Anyway, I found an interesting point, so I dug in and discovered, like all interesting houses, that this one also had an interesting owner. The original builder was a construction magnate, Phil Eckard (or something like that) who had it constructed in 1984. He sold it about ten years later to another guy, Cable Rosenberg, who was another self made businessman with a string of used-car dealerships. However, the house is currently for sale for the low price of twelve million dollars (no joke).
I wonder if every city has its strange history mansions. We can't forget either, the palatial mansion in PV belonging to Pierre Falcone, billionaire, politico, philanthropist, international arms dealer.
I'll tell you about today later. I've written enough and its time for bed. I have work tomorrow.
Feb 16, 2007
"Because Every Day Should Be an Adventure"
I've come up with a great slogan for ValleyMetro, the company which provides public transportation through the valley. Instead of "The Best Way to Get from A to B" which is thier current slogan, I propose "Every Day Should Be an Adventure." Riding the public bus, you never know just where you'll end up, and you'll certainly meet an interesting cast of characters along the way, ha ha!
In more seriousness, I have seen at least one person who is clearly deranged every time I've taken the bus, and at least four others whose sanity was debatable. The cultural breakdown of Phoenix is also radically skewed in favor of minorities which is very interesting to see on the bus.
Last night I biked to the new location of Gentle Strength Co-op on Southern and Mill. My neighborhood has railroad tracks which run through it, and so historically this area and the area south where I biked through developed as industrial with only minor commerical creeping in until you get to Mill Ave. Anyway, this place has reasonable prices and good quality food, but of course, as its name suggests, this is a kind of place where you don't casually order a pound of fresh whale. Or beef. Or anything with MSG.
I really enjoy walking through grocery stores just looking at the products. Especially special niche stores like these. The packaging, the product, the presentation, its like an open running dialogue between the manufacturers, the public, and each one's distorted view of the other. Sometimes its also just plain funny. One corny example was Paul Newman's brand of fig cookies, cleverly renamed Fig Newmans. The main thing that amused and repulsed me at the same time were the substitutes for meats and cheese. Provolone! No Milk Products! Now Melts! and all the various meat subsitute products. I couldn't stop cracking up reading the product titles, which were way too close to names The Onion satirized " Approximeat, Soystrami, I Can't Believe It's Not Dead Animal, Nausages, Prosciuttofu, Mockwrust," etc.
I did pick up some good strong local honey and some bagged mate for tea. They had a pound of looseleaf mate, the way they had in Buenos Aires for about 60 cents. Here, at the store, it cost a bit over ten dollars. I took a teabag with me to work this morning.
Today, I caught the bus to work, early again. I need to start eating breakfast and catch the bus that comes 15 minutes later. Work was pretty good. Went by quickly and then I was back waiting for the bus on central. I actually caught the same bus as a guy I knew from studio who was also coming back to ASU from his work.
I actually ended up hopping off the bus right downtown at ASU's downtown campus. This campus is actually spread out over the city a bit, so I walked a little ways to the PURL, Phoenix Urban Reaserch Laboratory. This occupies the top floor of a 1950's building in Phoenix, which stuck me as similiar in feel to our studio in Buenos Aires. I stopped in to talk to some of my friends there. The feeling was very professional, I assume because if you were going to schlepp all the way to downtown and find parking, you weren't going to be screwing around in studio. There was no mess, no clutter, no junk, nothing really pinned up on the walls, and I got in the impression that all the presentations were in powerpoint, or carefully arragned posters. The main part of the open plan floor was occupied by a massive scale model of downtown phoenix, which was about 20' feet by 20' square.
It was a pleasant part of town, the heart of downtown, at the intersection of Central and Van Buren, but the attempts to make it seem urban came across as cute. There was just too much space between buildings, too much grass, and too few stores and windows for every building facing the street. I bought a grilled portabella sandwich with REAL provolone cheese and sat outside to lunch.
I caught a different bus back to campus. This one was occupied by two deranged old women, both of whom had sunken bony faces and rasped at the driver incessantly. They screamed something at the giggling girls in the back as they went by. I got tired of the bus and hopped off early, so I ended up walking back about a mile through the borderlands of Tempe and Phoenix.
Tomorrow- habitat for humanity.
In more seriousness, I have seen at least one person who is clearly deranged every time I've taken the bus, and at least four others whose sanity was debatable. The cultural breakdown of Phoenix is also radically skewed in favor of minorities which is very interesting to see on the bus.
Last night I biked to the new location of Gentle Strength Co-op on Southern and Mill. My neighborhood has railroad tracks which run through it, and so historically this area and the area south where I biked through developed as industrial with only minor commerical creeping in until you get to Mill Ave. Anyway, this place has reasonable prices and good quality food, but of course, as its name suggests, this is a kind of place where you don't casually order a pound of fresh whale. Or beef. Or anything with MSG.
I really enjoy walking through grocery stores just looking at the products. Especially special niche stores like these. The packaging, the product, the presentation, its like an open running dialogue between the manufacturers, the public, and each one's distorted view of the other. Sometimes its also just plain funny. One corny example was Paul Newman's brand of fig cookies, cleverly renamed Fig Newmans. The main thing that amused and repulsed me at the same time were the substitutes for meats and cheese. Provolone! No Milk Products! Now Melts! and all the various meat subsitute products. I couldn't stop cracking up reading the product titles, which were way too close to names The Onion satirized " Approximeat, Soystrami, I Can't Believe It's Not Dead Animal, Nausages, Prosciuttofu, Mockwrust," etc.
I did pick up some good strong local honey and some bagged mate for tea. They had a pound of looseleaf mate, the way they had in Buenos Aires for about 60 cents. Here, at the store, it cost a bit over ten dollars. I took a teabag with me to work this morning.
Today, I caught the bus to work, early again. I need to start eating breakfast and catch the bus that comes 15 minutes later. Work was pretty good. Went by quickly and then I was back waiting for the bus on central. I actually caught the same bus as a guy I knew from studio who was also coming back to ASU from his work.
I actually ended up hopping off the bus right downtown at ASU's downtown campus. This campus is actually spread out over the city a bit, so I walked a little ways to the PURL, Phoenix Urban Reaserch Laboratory. This occupies the top floor of a 1950's building in Phoenix, which stuck me as similiar in feel to our studio in Buenos Aires. I stopped in to talk to some of my friends there. The feeling was very professional, I assume because if you were going to schlepp all the way to downtown and find parking, you weren't going to be screwing around in studio. There was no mess, no clutter, no junk, nothing really pinned up on the walls, and I got in the impression that all the presentations were in powerpoint, or carefully arragned posters. The main part of the open plan floor was occupied by a massive scale model of downtown phoenix, which was about 20' feet by 20' square.
It was a pleasant part of town, the heart of downtown, at the intersection of Central and Van Buren, but the attempts to make it seem urban came across as cute. There was just too much space between buildings, too much grass, and too few stores and windows for every building facing the street. I bought a grilled portabella sandwich with REAL provolone cheese and sat outside to lunch.
I caught a different bus back to campus. This one was occupied by two deranged old women, both of whom had sunken bony faces and rasped at the driver incessantly. They screamed something at the giggling girls in the back as they went by. I got tired of the bus and hopped off early, so I ended up walking back about a mile through the borderlands of Tempe and Phoenix.
Tomorrow- habitat for humanity.
Feb 15, 2007
Valentines Voyages
The night before Valentine's day, Saori and I made Udon noodle soup at her place for our valentines day dinner. I've been learning a lot about Japanese soups, and especially about the many uses of miso. We had to have our valentines day dinner then, because the next day Saori went to San Diego with her studio on a field trip, and I had my first day of work back at DWL.
Saori's studio focuses on the redevelopment of Papago Park, and each person is part of a team covering a certain facet of the park. For design inspriation and a case study, they left for San Diego look at the giant park there. It sounds like a really fun road trip that they're driving there. The school is also paying for their trip, although technically, its just their money coming back to them. They'll be gone until late Saturday, so it was kind of sad spending valentines day alone.
Anyway, valentines day, I woke up at 5:20 AM to get ready for work. I've not been getting much sleep anyway, so I'm starting the day off wiped. I left my apartment at 6 AM, and caught a bus to central Phoenix. Took about fifteen minutes of waiting for the bus, and about forty minutes ride time. I arrived early, so I wandered over to the nearby Circle-K and got a donut and some coffee and watched the sun rise.
It staggers me when I think about the density of Buenos Aires compared to Phoenix. How much wasted space there is in parking lots, little ten foot swaths of lawn or dirt between the sidewalk and property walls, all the low buildings, and massive streets. Downtown central Phoenix has a density which would only be found on the farthest suburbs of Buenos Aires.
Anyway, work was good, people remembered me even though its been eight months since I worked there last. I was set to work on some graphics of a library layout, very similar to the work I did in one of my studios a few semesters ago when I had to design a library.
I left the office around noon, but caught the wrong bus home. It was still RED LINE, but it was the other one that I needed. This red line took me way south on central, all the way to Broadway. I was re-reading Venturi's Learning from Las Vegas, so I didn't realize where I was until we'd passed through downtown already. I hopped out on Broadway and Central, convienantly enough at a transit center ( look, here again the old adage holds true- when you are irrevocably commited to a situation, the world moves to help you) so the woman working there told me what busses to take to get back to ASU.
I ended up taking two more busses to get back to my apartment and from there I biked back to studio, ending up in class just shy of an hour late. This wasn't too bad, considering the laid back nature of the studio and the fact we always seem to start group meetings about half and hour after class begins anyway. So I was in studio until 5:00 PM, and right after that we had a guest lecture we all were supposed to attend which lasted for an hour. I was passing out during the lecture, trying to stay awake.
An interesting side note, I was staggered to find out that ASU's college of design pays guest lecturers $5,000 to speak, not including airfare. And most of these are people I've never even heard of, although they are relatively high in their fields. For designers I have heard of more frequently, $10,000. For the top architects in the world, ASU paid Shigeru-ban and Glenn Murcutt $50,000 each. I missed the Shigeru-ban lecture but the Glenn Murcutt lecture was probably worth it. That guy lectured for close to three hours and he was great.
After the lecture, I went up to the second floor of the bridge gallery where its dark and there are couches, and I passed out for an hour. Then I went back to my drawing class and we spent about an hour doing portrait sketches before calling an early end to the class. I went home, made some casadillas and went to bed.
Photo Above: View under Priest Drive crossing the Salt River
Feb 12, 2007
Bikenomics
Today I bought a bicycle. It's an old used blue Schwinn Varsity road bike, with 26 inch tires. I am sick of Tempe's public transportation system (I call it a gross failure when I can WALK the mile and a half to school faster than the time it takes for me to get there taking the bus), and Saori's bike is way too small for me. Considering that the rest of my bikes have been stolen, I invested in the best lock I could buy. I also picked up a little LED headlamp which easily snaps to my handlebars so I'm more visible at night. Grand total $170. A tidy little sum of money to be sure, the bike itself was $110. Actually if I'd bought a cheaper used bike online or from the classfieds, odds are I'd make up the rest in repairs, new parts, shifters, brakes, etc. Everything on this bike works great. So I'm glad I got it. In terms of security, I'm storing it IN my apartment while its there. No more leaving it anywhere overnight.
Last weekend, Saori and I went to go see Pan's Labrynth, a movie by a Mexican director, and it was in Spanish with subtitles. Good movie, very surreal, very graphic, extremely bloody, and actually has the most terrifying scene I've seen in a long time. Not a movie to take the kids to. Very interesting though, the non-American director gave it a really fresh take. It's not what you're expecting.
Last weekend, Saori and I went to go see Pan's Labrynth, a movie by a Mexican director, and it was in Spanish with subtitles. Good movie, very surreal, very graphic, extremely bloody, and actually has the most terrifying scene I've seen in a long time. Not a movie to take the kids to. Very interesting though, the non-American director gave it a really fresh take. It's not what you're expecting.
To Whom it May Concern
Should I die some windy day,
wrap me up in sheets,
and billowingly bear me down
the gray and empty streets.
When if at sea I meet my end
bid the Capitan weep,
weight my shell with stone and steel,
and set me on the deep.
In arid desert, chance I go,
conserve, and do not cry,
but build me high a bed of wood
and bury me in the sky.
If I, while diving in sleepy cay,
a shark should strike and kill,
spear it quick and fresh fillet,
and mourn me as you grill.
Ere in violence I am slain,
and they find me cold and pale,
burn me with regretful silence,
and tell them all my tale.
If I on hot and sunny day
should happen to expire,
then dig and bury me by hand,
and tears of sweat perspire.
Should I drop quite suddenly
in the middle of life’s day,
then harvest all my organs
and give them all away.
Ere I go while watching TV
dull and fat with butter,
mourn me for only sixty minutes,
then go and do something other.
Polonium is nasty stuff-
If I eat some in my bread
then mark me radioactive
and make my casket lead.
And should I pass in jungle,
Keep all the men awake,
until I lay in earthen pit,
the deepest they can make.
When stranded in some plane disaster,
where death my hunger takes,
if you too, soul blind with madness,
must eat to live, partake.
Or swallowed by some evil swamp
in places maps won’t show,
stack me a rough pillar of stone,
and from that cursed place go.
In deepest hour of darkest night,
If a nameless horror with a grin
should drag me screaming from my bed,
never speak my name again.
But if I die at home asleep,
and old and wise as well,
then lift your head and smile
at the tolling of the bell.
wrap me up in sheets,
and billowingly bear me down
the gray and empty streets.
When if at sea I meet my end
bid the Capitan weep,
weight my shell with stone and steel,
and set me on the deep.
In arid desert, chance I go,
conserve, and do not cry,
but build me high a bed of wood
and bury me in the sky.
If I, while diving in sleepy cay,
a shark should strike and kill,
spear it quick and fresh fillet,
and mourn me as you grill.
Ere in violence I am slain,
and they find me cold and pale,
burn me with regretful silence,
and tell them all my tale.
If I on hot and sunny day
should happen to expire,
then dig and bury me by hand,
and tears of sweat perspire.
Should I drop quite suddenly
in the middle of life’s day,
then harvest all my organs
and give them all away.
Ere I go while watching TV
dull and fat with butter,
mourn me for only sixty minutes,
then go and do something other.
Polonium is nasty stuff-
If I eat some in my bread
then mark me radioactive
and make my casket lead.
And should I pass in jungle,
Keep all the men awake,
until I lay in earthen pit,
the deepest they can make.
When stranded in some plane disaster,
where death my hunger takes,
if you too, soul blind with madness,
must eat to live, partake.
Or swallowed by some evil swamp
in places maps won’t show,
stack me a rough pillar of stone,
and from that cursed place go.
In deepest hour of darkest night,
If a nameless horror with a grin
should drag me screaming from my bed,
never speak my name again.
But if I die at home asleep,
and old and wise as well,
then lift your head and smile
at the tolling of the bell.
Feb 9, 2007
more photos from my new old life
Mixed in with old, so be patient, or follow the link to the album with the full photos. The only thing I dislike about the slideshow is that it cuts off so much of the photos sometimes. This set includes sunset on A mountain, studio, and around home.
My New Old Life
My New Old Life
Feb 7, 2007
Sustainability (!)
Our lighting class is rolling along interestingly. It's a lot of data we need to know for the workforce, and better, its what's contemporary. Our teacher one day explained to us that it was his job to teach us what the latest softwares, technologies, and lamps are in the field, so that we leave, we can find jobs at firms and show them how to do it. One of those things he's teaching us is a new type of CAD software called AGi32. Its user interface is clunky but logical, but its not really designed for building complex forms. For example, if I wanted to make a room, I would click the "Add" menu, go to "Room" and select "flat" for a flat-roofed room. Then you draw a box and it creates a room for you. At this point, I still don't know how to make a room of a specific entered size. I just "add" "object" "library" "chair" and use that chair as a scale to rough out the size. If I want to modify any of that stuff, I have to go back to "modify" "object"..etc. etc. This ain't autoCAD. On the plus side, this is the hottest, latest and cutting edge software used in the lighting design industry. This entire program is devoted to light calculations and hyperacurate raytrace rendering. In laymans terms, it lets you see how a light will really make a room look when you put it in.
Once you get past building the model, all you do is go to a lamp manufacturers website, download the photometric data sheet, and then you plug that back into the program and it generates that light for you. More importantly, it shows you how bright the room average is, at certain points, power usage, watts per foot which is vital for LEED certification and strict lighting code, amongst other functions. Basically once you have your space, it's plug and play from then on.
So that's lighting design. I was slightly disappointed that I didn't get to go see the US national soccer team play Mexico in a sold-out game here in Phoenix. However, considering that they filled the massive stadium, I don't think I would have been able to get tickets anyway. At least the US won 2-0, which was a huge letdown for my roommate Sal.
My human behavior and design class is still very stupid and ridiculous. Our "attendance question" was "who won the superbowl?" My roommate assured me that the teacher of the class is actually quite intelligent, but I can tell she hates the class and is only teaching it so ASU will waive her Doctorate tuition fees.
Today we went to a mandatory lecture. What, I thought, is mandatory about it? Our studio teachers were not there at the door, marking attendance, we were given no crucial bit of data to pass the class, and there was no other threat against us, so what makes it mandatory? I went anyway, since the language suggested that it was advisable to attend, and because it concerned Sustainability. This was the kick off lecture of the spring 07 lecture series. When a faculty member read off the list of who else was coming to talk, I had heard of none of them before- which, admittedly, could be the fault of my own, although I didn't hear any delight from anyone else recognizing a name. Last semester, for sake of comparison, were lectures by Teddy Cruz and Shigeru-ban. Shigeru-ban is probably the best known architect of Japan, in recognition second only Tado Ando. This whole semester lecture series centers on Sustainability.
I get the feeling that my posts have become somewhat fragmentary of late, it captures the feeling of this semester to an extent- my trying to piece everything in my current life together, taking freshman level classes along with a fragmented, self-guided studio, decisions on post-graduate life, the feeling of the temporarity of this apartment, etc.
Once you get past building the model, all you do is go to a lamp manufacturers website, download the photometric data sheet, and then you plug that back into the program and it generates that light for you. More importantly, it shows you how bright the room average is, at certain points, power usage, watts per foot which is vital for LEED certification and strict lighting code, amongst other functions. Basically once you have your space, it's plug and play from then on.
So that's lighting design. I was slightly disappointed that I didn't get to go see the US national soccer team play Mexico in a sold-out game here in Phoenix. However, considering that they filled the massive stadium, I don't think I would have been able to get tickets anyway. At least the US won 2-0, which was a huge letdown for my roommate Sal.
My human behavior and design class is still very stupid and ridiculous. Our "attendance question" was "who won the superbowl?" My roommate assured me that the teacher of the class is actually quite intelligent, but I can tell she hates the class and is only teaching it so ASU will waive her Doctorate tuition fees.
Today we went to a mandatory lecture. What, I thought, is mandatory about it? Our studio teachers were not there at the door, marking attendance, we were given no crucial bit of data to pass the class, and there was no other threat against us, so what makes it mandatory? I went anyway, since the language suggested that it was advisable to attend, and because it concerned Sustainability. This was the kick off lecture of the spring 07 lecture series. When a faculty member read off the list of who else was coming to talk, I had heard of none of them before- which, admittedly, could be the fault of my own, although I didn't hear any delight from anyone else recognizing a name. Last semester, for sake of comparison, were lectures by Teddy Cruz and Shigeru-ban. Shigeru-ban is probably the best known architect of Japan, in recognition second only Tado Ando. This whole semester lecture series centers on Sustainability.
I get the feeling that my posts have become somewhat fragmentary of late, it captures the feeling of this semester to an extent- my trying to piece everything in my current life together, taking freshman level classes along with a fragmented, self-guided studio, decisions on post-graduate life, the feeling of the temporarity of this apartment, etc.
Feb 3, 2007
Snow Day
Saori and I both had two studio professors who were going to conferences, so we decided to take friday off and go on a road trip up to Payson. We left around ten, getting to the Dairy Queen in Payson around lunchtime. I got a chili dog and a blizzard, and Saori ordered a salad. At first, I thought this was a strange decision, considering how rarely people would probably order salads from Dairy Queen, especially out in Payson. It took them a while to bring it out, but they actually brought out the best fast food salad I've ever seen. Reflecting on this, I realized I'd complelely had the whole thing wrong. Instead of a place like McDonalds which probably does a much more brisk trade in salads, Dairy Queen probably sells very little, so it doesnt make sense for them to have prepackaged salads ready to go like McDonalds does. Since it is ordered so rarely, they have to make it complelely fresh at Dairy Queen. At least, this is what they did at the DQ we visited.
Anyway, we continued on though on our way to Strawberry, but we passed a sign for the Tonto Natural Arch park, so we decided to take a detour. It was actually really cool and I'm glad we did because we were able to actually hike down into and through the arch which was a bouldering expedition over freezing pools of water, stalagtites, and geological formations. All the while, we were dripped on from the water seeping though the rock vault high above us. We spent about two hours at the arch before continuing on. We drove up past Strawberry, up on top of the rim, looking for the side roads to find an overlook, but they were all closed due to the heavy snow on the ground. We finally gave up, pulled over by one of the chained park entrances, and had a snowball fight in the two feet deep snow.
We got back into town around 8 PM and then Saori went to her friends house for do it yourself sushi, and I met Aldo for a beer at Four Peaks, which was really good since I've not really had a chance to catch up with him for awhile.
Today is a working day. We have a lot of sketches to do for monday and I have a lot of work for my studio presentation next friday.
Tonto National Bridge
Anyway, we continued on though on our way to Strawberry, but we passed a sign for the Tonto Natural Arch park, so we decided to take a detour. It was actually really cool and I'm glad we did because we were able to actually hike down into and through the arch which was a bouldering expedition over freezing pools of water, stalagtites, and geological formations. All the while, we were dripped on from the water seeping though the rock vault high above us. We spent about two hours at the arch before continuing on. We drove up past Strawberry, up on top of the rim, looking for the side roads to find an overlook, but they were all closed due to the heavy snow on the ground. We finally gave up, pulled over by one of the chained park entrances, and had a snowball fight in the two feet deep snow.
We got back into town around 8 PM and then Saori went to her friends house for do it yourself sushi, and I met Aldo for a beer at Four Peaks, which was really good since I've not really had a chance to catch up with him for awhile.
Today is a working day. We have a lot of sketches to do for monday and I have a lot of work for my studio presentation next friday.
Tonto National Bridge
Feb 1, 2007
Our Bright, LED future
Our lighting class is going pretty well. The teacher has a very clipped German accent, very monotone, but varying in volume especially when condemning incandescent bulbs, praising T8 fluorescents, or depicting our bright, LED lit future. The class is actually very good because the professor gives us what we need to know and how to apply it in the field of lighting design. It's a fairly technical class, we're learning about corresponding color temperatures, color rendering indices, lumins per watt, and a lot of optical stuff about illumination and intensity. He is adamant about telling us never to specify incandescents (regular light bulbs) because they use three to four times the amount of energy of an florescent, are only 10% efficient, and have a very short rated bulb life. The only things going for them which make them so attractive are their initial low cost, easy replacement, and the quality of light they produce is warm and renders colors beautifully. However, their high energy use, low efficiency, and short lifespan has led California to ban them in some regard, exactly which I can't recall. Our teacher predicts that within 3 years, several other states will follow suit. For now, he recommends standard fluorescent lights for almost everything, with an eye on LED lights which should soon surpass fluorescents on efficency, cheapness, and brightness.
Speaking of changing technology, I thought I had lost my old 1 gigabyte jumpdrive between Buenos Aires and Tempe, and I had been hurting for it already this semester, so I went out and picked up a new one to replace it when I heard of one on sale. My 1 gig jump drive I picked up about a year ago for about $80 which was a screaming deal at the time. The 2 gig jump drive on sale was a mere $30. Of course, a few days later I found my old jump drive in a shirt pocket that had been packed away, but its good to have the expanded portability. I have heard that the school print shop is now using the latest jump drive sticks which can hold 8 G of data. Its beyond my comprehension.
Studio is about the same. Our teacher will be gone to a conference tomorrow, so its another work on your own day. I'll upload some images when I have something interesting to show. Nothing too much else going on, still working on my major list of things to do. Paid my graduation fees yesterday. $18. I wonder what they want it for. Maybe its for the diploma and the cord? Who knows.
Speaking of changing technology, I thought I had lost my old 1 gigabyte jumpdrive between Buenos Aires and Tempe, and I had been hurting for it already this semester, so I went out and picked up a new one to replace it when I heard of one on sale. My 1 gig jump drive I picked up about a year ago for about $80 which was a screaming deal at the time. The 2 gig jump drive on sale was a mere $30. Of course, a few days later I found my old jump drive in a shirt pocket that had been packed away, but its good to have the expanded portability. I have heard that the school print shop is now using the latest jump drive sticks which can hold 8 G of data. Its beyond my comprehension.
Studio is about the same. Our teacher will be gone to a conference tomorrow, so its another work on your own day. I'll upload some images when I have something interesting to show. Nothing too much else going on, still working on my major list of things to do. Paid my graduation fees yesterday. $18. I wonder what they want it for. Maybe its for the diploma and the cord? Who knows.
Jan 30, 2007
Babel
A cafe recently opened on University Drive near Hardy called Essence Bakery Cafe. Saori had gone there before with her friends for late night coffee, and she took me there back there for a late breakfast. Place looked good, it was small, homey, and offered fresh baked goods. However, thier selection of pastries was pretty slim and priced comparitively with Starbucks pastries (which I think is overpriced).
We walk inside and the guy behind the counter hands us two lunch and dinner menus. We tell him we're just there for a bit of breakfast and he indicates the pastry display. Saori orders a coffee and some cookies and the guy completely ignores me after serving it up, going back to wander around behind the counter. I have to ask him for a coffee. There is this horribly obnoxious stereotypically French attitude radiating off of this guy, and I instantly dislike him. I've been to Paris three times, known how hospitable the French can be, but this guy was definitely not one of them. The coffee was standard and overpriced. When he handed over our drinks, he informed us that they were in their lunch service hours and would it be a problem to not sit inside the cafe? (The cafe was unoccupied except for one table). I assured him that we would trouble him no further. We were about to walk out when he told us that it was ok if we sat inside, just this once, but if some customers came in and filled the cafe, we should move over, eh? We declined to despoil thier pristine dining area and instead drank our coffee out on the patio and left for the last time. There was another woman working there who appeared to be another French chef who was extremely gracious except for not smacking the other guy upside the head with a souffle pan.
The other day, Saori and I went to see the movie Babel, directed by the same guy who did Amores Perros and in the same fashion where it follows several characters and stories whose lives are interconnected. It was a good movie, a bit rough to sit though with the same kind of feeling and intensity as Syriana. Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchette playing American tourists off the beaten track in Morrocco reminded me strongly and accurately of the tourists and experiances I'd seen in Egypt and Abu Dhabi. Anyway, I thought it was interestingly impartial to the whole theme of the movie which seemed to be saying something about globalization.
However, it reminded me that as an American in America, we are black on black, our individual actions here go mostly unnoticed on the global scale. In contrast, when one is a foriegner, black on white, every movement has potential for ripples. I remember when I was in middle school, our week long class trip was canceled because the someone in military intelligence forgot to get an updated map. Becuase the map was outdated, the US military bombed the Chinese Embassy in Belgrade. The Chinese government used the opportunity to create a huge controlled mob and anti-American sentiment in Beijing to fan support of the Chinese people towards its own military, a mob formed in front of the US embassy, and my school in Beijing was canceled. Ripple effects.
On our trip through Egypt, we met several Arab guides who spoke excellent English. Most of them had lived in the US for many years in various occupations, but for a few after September 11th, their businesses dropped off to failure. Anyway, time for dinner. More on my day later.
We walk inside and the guy behind the counter hands us two lunch and dinner menus. We tell him we're just there for a bit of breakfast and he indicates the pastry display. Saori orders a coffee and some cookies and the guy completely ignores me after serving it up, going back to wander around behind the counter. I have to ask him for a coffee. There is this horribly obnoxious stereotypically French attitude radiating off of this guy, and I instantly dislike him. I've been to Paris three times, known how hospitable the French can be, but this guy was definitely not one of them. The coffee was standard and overpriced. When he handed over our drinks, he informed us that they were in their lunch service hours and would it be a problem to not sit inside the cafe? (The cafe was unoccupied except for one table). I assured him that we would trouble him no further. We were about to walk out when he told us that it was ok if we sat inside, just this once, but if some customers came in and filled the cafe, we should move over, eh? We declined to despoil thier pristine dining area and instead drank our coffee out on the patio and left for the last time. There was another woman working there who appeared to be another French chef who was extremely gracious except for not smacking the other guy upside the head with a souffle pan.
The other day, Saori and I went to see the movie Babel, directed by the same guy who did Amores Perros and in the same fashion where it follows several characters and stories whose lives are interconnected. It was a good movie, a bit rough to sit though with the same kind of feeling and intensity as Syriana. Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchette playing American tourists off the beaten track in Morrocco reminded me strongly and accurately of the tourists and experiances I'd seen in Egypt and Abu Dhabi. Anyway, I thought it was interestingly impartial to the whole theme of the movie which seemed to be saying something about globalization.
However, it reminded me that as an American in America, we are black on black, our individual actions here go mostly unnoticed on the global scale. In contrast, when one is a foriegner, black on white, every movement has potential for ripples. I remember when I was in middle school, our week long class trip was canceled because the someone in military intelligence forgot to get an updated map. Becuase the map was outdated, the US military bombed the Chinese Embassy in Belgrade. The Chinese government used the opportunity to create a huge controlled mob and anti-American sentiment in Beijing to fan support of the Chinese people towards its own military, a mob formed in front of the US embassy, and my school in Beijing was canceled. Ripple effects.
On our trip through Egypt, we met several Arab guides who spoke excellent English. Most of them had lived in the US for many years in various occupations, but for a few after September 11th, their businesses dropped off to failure. Anyway, time for dinner. More on my day later.
Jan 29, 2007
Off-balance
When I woke up this morning, I realized that my sense of balance was completely skewed for some reason. There was no drinking the night before nor anything else unusual, and so I am left puzzled why I constantly have to catch myself from leaning way over to the side. It's impossible for me to stand on one leg with my eyes closed at this point, and I'm using visual cues more than anything else for balance. I wonder if its possible for ear fluid to get lodged in some strange part of the spiral thing, thowing the sense of balance off. Anyway, took some photos of the apartment this morning. Here you go.
old new apartment
old new apartment
Jan 27, 2007
Photos
Here are some photos I took for my sketching class, combined with a trip to Tucson and miscilaneous of Phoenix. Here's a new slideshow feature I've not tried yet, so we'll see how it works:
My New Old Life
My New Old Life
Jan 24, 2007
A Frustrating Day
It's the second week of school, and we're already staying up until 3 AM for assignments. Not studio, mind you, other work like our sketching class and lighting design. Let me step back a bit.
Last weekend was a busy one for me. I moved into my new apartment with a third year architecture student, taking four loads from my storage unit with Sally's van. I have way too much stuff, obviously. In addition to moving into Salvador's apartment, I also took a trip down to Tucson with Saori which was really a lot of fun, staying with friends, and we went to go see the Sonoran Desert Museum and the San Xavier church. The desert museum is really cool and well done, a combination zoo, botanical garden, and musuem. Notable exhibits included a section of wild cats, an explorable fake cave, an aviary of hummingbirds, and an otter exhibit where you could see the swimming around underwater though a huge acrylic window.
WHen we got to the mission church, it began to rain and we saw the inside before deciding that it was raining too hard to go spend any time at the Pima Air Museum. So we trekked back to Bookmans for an hour or so before going back to hang out at Cassie's place. We wanted to get back before monday morning so I was extremely concerned with the freezing weather, poor visibility with the sleet rain and then shocked when it actually began to snow in Tucson. About an inch of snow dusted everything. We waited a few more hours after the storm passed and the roads were clear and safe.
I took Suki home with me, on a ride that she of course howled the whole way home.
So, now I'm set up at my apartment although my room is bursting with boxes, and I've actually lifted my bed up on six huge plastic storage bins. Suki seems to be comfortable with moving now, and got used to the place immediately. She is still the most princessy, needy, fluffy cat I've ever seen.
Back to today. Because my weekend and first few days were tied up, I had to go check out my sites for studio this morning (studio is at 1:15 PM). My bike, which lasted six months in Tempe locked up outside, was gone, no sign of it at all. Lock, everything, missing. So much for my transportation to the site. I have to believe that maintainece staff took it. It was attatched with A U lock to a steel lightpole on a grassy yard beside the front road. I am at a loss to explain why. Anyway, I had to borrow my roomate's little bike and make the three mile trek to the building to realize that the gates were locked and the whole area closed to the public.
Last weekend was a busy one for me. I moved into my new apartment with a third year architecture student, taking four loads from my storage unit with Sally's van. I have way too much stuff, obviously. In addition to moving into Salvador's apartment, I also took a trip down to Tucson with Saori which was really a lot of fun, staying with friends, and we went to go see the Sonoran Desert Museum and the San Xavier church. The desert museum is really cool and well done, a combination zoo, botanical garden, and musuem. Notable exhibits included a section of wild cats, an explorable fake cave, an aviary of hummingbirds, and an otter exhibit where you could see the swimming around underwater though a huge acrylic window.
WHen we got to the mission church, it began to rain and we saw the inside before deciding that it was raining too hard to go spend any time at the Pima Air Museum. So we trekked back to Bookmans for an hour or so before going back to hang out at Cassie's place. We wanted to get back before monday morning so I was extremely concerned with the freezing weather, poor visibility with the sleet rain and then shocked when it actually began to snow in Tucson. About an inch of snow dusted everything. We waited a few more hours after the storm passed and the roads were clear and safe.
I took Suki home with me, on a ride that she of course howled the whole way home.
So, now I'm set up at my apartment although my room is bursting with boxes, and I've actually lifted my bed up on six huge plastic storage bins. Suki seems to be comfortable with moving now, and got used to the place immediately. She is still the most princessy, needy, fluffy cat I've ever seen.
Back to today. Because my weekend and first few days were tied up, I had to go check out my sites for studio this morning (studio is at 1:15 PM). My bike, which lasted six months in Tempe locked up outside, was gone, no sign of it at all. Lock, everything, missing. So much for my transportation to the site. I have to believe that maintainece staff took it. It was attatched with A U lock to a steel lightpole on a grassy yard beside the front road. I am at a loss to explain why. Anyway, I had to borrow my roomate's little bike and make the three mile trek to the building to realize that the gates were locked and the whole area closed to the public.
Jan 20, 2007
A Hmong Among Us
There is one redeeming class to my spring lineup. A sketching class which is more about how to see and understand the world than how to draw it. Highly recommended by everyone who's taken it, it seems like a great class, although it will take time and effort. It is being taught by a young architect who works at Will Bruder's office, and interestingly, it contains two grad students who went to Buenos Aires with me, my girlfriend Saori, my 3rd year roommate Salvador, and a friend of mine who dropped out of upper division. It is the one class that I'm really going to enjoy I think.
Last night, Saori took me a house party with a bunch of her friends. It was a surreal experience, where the atmosphere and activities were the same as any typical ASU house party, except the majority of the people there were Japanese. If I heard English spoken at all, it was typically a Japanese person talking to Taiwanese, who also had a huge presence at the party. I was surprised at how well I fit in to the party, but these guys are mostly third culture, or expat people anyway, and my basic mandarin Chinese helped me start some conversations. The surreal elements: the birthday boy bringing in a huge platter of sushi on a wooden bridge platter, shouts of GanPei! in the kitchen, and this random Hmong guy circulating around the group. He was an animation major, and privately confided that he thought that he was the only Hmong in Arizona.
Last night, Saori took me a house party with a bunch of her friends. It was a surreal experience, where the atmosphere and activities were the same as any typical ASU house party, except the majority of the people there were Japanese. If I heard English spoken at all, it was typically a Japanese person talking to Taiwanese, who also had a huge presence at the party. I was surprised at how well I fit in to the party, but these guys are mostly third culture, or expat people anyway, and my basic mandarin Chinese helped me start some conversations. The surreal elements: the birthday boy bringing in a huge platter of sushi on a wooden bridge platter, shouts of GanPei! in the kitchen, and this random Hmong guy circulating around the group. He was an animation major, and privately confided that he thought that he was the only Hmong in Arizona.
Jan 17, 2007
The Sandlot Team
Change is constantly occuring but I tend to overlook it because of its incrimintal nature. However, when I returned from nearly seven months abroad, I was surprised by all the changes in Tempe. There are three high-rise projects either under development or in construction right in the mill avenue area. Stores and cafes I used to frequent have moved on or closed to make room, and everything on Mill is a little more slick than it used to be. Tempe is upscaling its downtown to be a kind of rival art/shopping district to Scottsdale. I have really mixed feeling about this. On the one hand, I love cities and increasing urban density is ok by me especially by the mixed use plan. I have nothing against polishing a city, taking a little more care with its landscaping, and a little more pleasant to be in. Hopefully, it will also raise the quality of ASU with it.
On the other hand, I worry about Tempe becoming just like scottsdale stylized, everything high gloss, tinted glass with spider connections, rusty steel accents, brushed aluminum, and concrete. Nothing wrong with these materials, but they are just used in such a bland and faceless way, like any major international airport. I have a hard time identiftying that kind of slick sleekness with the student's Tempe, and I forsee the same kind of sharp division as happens in Boulder Colorado, with a definate "Upscale" and "College" area. I've been here less than four years and I already miss the old mill avenue. Call me a hippie, call me nostalgic, call me whatever, but I'll prefer a changing hands bookstore instead of a borders in that context. I love Borders bookstores anywhere else, but they are so bland and so easily insertable into any place. I guess I'm really afraid that Tempe instead of being a college town with its unique feeling (and problems) will become another faceless thing.
Today was an interesting day. I secured a place to live within walking distance to campus. It's actually a little cheaper than the place I used to live and the guy is ok with suki so I'll probably start moving in this friday and saturday. The guy is nice, quiet, third year architecture student, and the place is pretty unfurnished so I can unleash my hardwood furnature and make the place a little more homey.
Today, instead of going to the studio you were assigned to at the specific time, they had everyone meet on the bridge togather. In true ASU college of design form, there was no email notification or other official notification of this at all. I heard about from a group of friends, who heard it from a guy, who heard it... Ad absurdium. They do some things really well here but communication is not one of them.
Anyway, at this meeting, we were presented with six teachers who gave short pitches for what their studios were going to be about. We were then given ten minutes to decide what we wanted to do for our last semester. Two of the studios focused mainly on landscape design, as we are combined with landscape students for this semester.
My first pick was the urban infill studio with professor Munier, because I like his ideas on the urban condition and his rejection of the "new urbanism" movement.
Second pick was more experimetnal- a studio which focused on the Chicano community and thier role and spaces (especially as the majority minority) in the city of phoenix, and how to tie those communities closer togather.
Third pick was a studio which seemed very vauge and theorertical, but seemed to offer the opportuntiy for me to finally come to terms with defining Phoenix and trying to figure out why its such a failure as a city, and why I regard it as a failure. Really, it was a negative decision, that I'd rather take it over the other three studios offered.
We submitted our votes and they took awhile to tally them up before they posted them. I was in my third choice studio. Interestingly, every other architecture student in the class ALSO listed the class as thier third choice. It would seem that if you listed the studio at all, you ended up in the class.
Anyway, most of us (apart from the landscape students) were pretty depressed about the whole situation and the first meeting did little to console us. Our studio is being taught by a woman who holds two masters degrees in architecture and landscape architecture, and she seems to be intensely theoretical. As for the studio itself, there is no real program. Its the same kind of broad situation as Buenos Aires, except we don't have a broad problem, we don't have a site, and we don't have a Claudio. Basically, she told us that we could use this studio to do whatever we wanted to do in other studios but never could. My understanding of the class is that we pick a problem or area or situation, document it (DIAGRAMS!W00T!), and propose insertions of various scales. It's about as unfocused as possible, with the only real limitation being the size of Phoenix.
Sitting there, I realized that I was developing an extremely bad attitude about the whole thing which would be fatal for the studio and any chance of me getting anything out of it. I forced myself to think positively. On the one hand, I'd rather be in this studio than three others ( although knowing what I know now, I would have reshuffled my choices a bit), this studio is vauge enough for me to really focus on a problem of my chosing, and its also good experiance for graduate classes.
Our assignment for friday- think about places in the city that you might want to focus on, places that seem "dead" ( I considered bringing in a road atlas of phoenix), strange, or exceptionally lively. I really want to look forward to this semester, just like our design behavior teacher really wants the class of 250 to be "interactive".
Oh, latest news from the minor front- I got a response back from the Textiles in Interior Design class professor. She told me that there were three prerequisites (none I've taken) but she might be able to make an exception for me, depending on if I made a good case for myself. So I need to write her an email about why I am enthusiastic about taking a class I don't really want to take.
Fortunately, I may be able to moot the whole thing since I realized that I never got design credit for something I should have, which would allow me to forget the whole thing, provided I can convince the advising staff to accept it for the minor- which shouldn't be too difficult. Stay posted for more details.
On the other hand, I worry about Tempe becoming just like scottsdale stylized, everything high gloss, tinted glass with spider connections, rusty steel accents, brushed aluminum, and concrete. Nothing wrong with these materials, but they are just used in such a bland and faceless way, like any major international airport. I have a hard time identiftying that kind of slick sleekness with the student's Tempe, and I forsee the same kind of sharp division as happens in Boulder Colorado, with a definate "Upscale" and "College" area. I've been here less than four years and I already miss the old mill avenue. Call me a hippie, call me nostalgic, call me whatever, but I'll prefer a changing hands bookstore instead of a borders in that context. I love Borders bookstores anywhere else, but they are so bland and so easily insertable into any place. I guess I'm really afraid that Tempe instead of being a college town with its unique feeling (and problems) will become another faceless thing.
Today was an interesting day. I secured a place to live within walking distance to campus. It's actually a little cheaper than the place I used to live and the guy is ok with suki so I'll probably start moving in this friday and saturday. The guy is nice, quiet, third year architecture student, and the place is pretty unfurnished so I can unleash my hardwood furnature and make the place a little more homey.
Today, instead of going to the studio you were assigned to at the specific time, they had everyone meet on the bridge togather. In true ASU college of design form, there was no email notification or other official notification of this at all. I heard about from a group of friends, who heard it from a guy, who heard it... Ad absurdium. They do some things really well here but communication is not one of them.
Anyway, at this meeting, we were presented with six teachers who gave short pitches for what their studios were going to be about. We were then given ten minutes to decide what we wanted to do for our last semester. Two of the studios focused mainly on landscape design, as we are combined with landscape students for this semester.
My first pick was the urban infill studio with professor Munier, because I like his ideas on the urban condition and his rejection of the "new urbanism" movement.
Second pick was more experimetnal- a studio which focused on the Chicano community and thier role and spaces (especially as the majority minority) in the city of phoenix, and how to tie those communities closer togather.
Third pick was a studio which seemed very vauge and theorertical, but seemed to offer the opportuntiy for me to finally come to terms with defining Phoenix and trying to figure out why its such a failure as a city, and why I regard it as a failure. Really, it was a negative decision, that I'd rather take it over the other three studios offered.
We submitted our votes and they took awhile to tally them up before they posted them. I was in my third choice studio. Interestingly, every other architecture student in the class ALSO listed the class as thier third choice. It would seem that if you listed the studio at all, you ended up in the class.
Anyway, most of us (apart from the landscape students) were pretty depressed about the whole situation and the first meeting did little to console us. Our studio is being taught by a woman who holds two masters degrees in architecture and landscape architecture, and she seems to be intensely theoretical. As for the studio itself, there is no real program. Its the same kind of broad situation as Buenos Aires, except we don't have a broad problem, we don't have a site, and we don't have a Claudio. Basically, she told us that we could use this studio to do whatever we wanted to do in other studios but never could. My understanding of the class is that we pick a problem or area or situation, document it (DIAGRAMS!W00T!), and propose insertions of various scales. It's about as unfocused as possible, with the only real limitation being the size of Phoenix.
Sitting there, I realized that I was developing an extremely bad attitude about the whole thing which would be fatal for the studio and any chance of me getting anything out of it. I forced myself to think positively. On the one hand, I'd rather be in this studio than three others ( although knowing what I know now, I would have reshuffled my choices a bit), this studio is vauge enough for me to really focus on a problem of my chosing, and its also good experiance for graduate classes.
Our assignment for friday- think about places in the city that you might want to focus on, places that seem "dead" ( I considered bringing in a road atlas of phoenix), strange, or exceptionally lively. I really want to look forward to this semester, just like our design behavior teacher really wants the class of 250 to be "interactive".
Oh, latest news from the minor front- I got a response back from the Textiles in Interior Design class professor. She told me that there were three prerequisites (none I've taken) but she might be able to make an exception for me, depending on if I made a good case for myself. So I need to write her an email about why I am enthusiastic about taking a class I don't really want to take.
Fortunately, I may be able to moot the whole thing since I realized that I never got design credit for something I should have, which would allow me to forget the whole thing, provided I can convince the advising staff to accept it for the minor- which shouldn't be too difficult. Stay posted for more details.
Jan 16, 2007
The Perkins Report
Its been unbelievably cold here in Phoenix. Sunday and Monday mornings were the coldest two consecutive mornings on record for Phoenix in 30 years. There was FROST if you can believe it. December was apparently wonderful with temperatures well into the 70's, but its just plummeted lately, and it sounds like we're getting away light down here compared with the rest of the United States.
My action items aren't acting very quickly. I still need an apartment, car, job, cat, and laptop. In the apartment department, one of my friend's friends needs a roommate and he lives relatively close to campus and is willing to take on a cat as well, so I'm going to check out his place tomorrow morning. Ideally, I'll be mostly moved in by this weekend although I'm not sure that's going to happen.
Today was the first day of school. My last undergraduate semester at ASU. It was a cold walk to school in the early morning since I have some serious issues to work out with the advising staff, so I was there early at 8 AM to hop in the long line. 4 basic problems:
1) I never got credit for my minor in design for a class I took a year and a half ago, so I needed to figure out how to get credit for it (turns out I need to petition for it by (SURPRISE) filling out some forms.)
2) Somehow I was signed up for two sections of the same class, one in Argentina which I took and got a grade for and the other which was in Tempe, which for obvious reasons, I couldn't attend, so I got a 0.0 INCOMPLETE mark on my records for it, which is equally obviously killing my GPA.
3) One of the classes I took in Argentina was a studio on Latin American design, which I realized that I was never signed up for, so it was ANOTHER form to take to my old professor, then to the faculty assistant chair, and then back to advising for approval. At least I got this issue resolved today.
4) My minor in design studies was relegated to back burner for Argentina, so I'm a bit behind. As far as I can tell, if I can get Issue 1 resolved, then all I need is two more design classes. One I'm already signed up for and the other I need to get approval for.
My options for these classes are somewhat not fun. I took "Human Behavior and Design" this afternoon along with 240 other students in a massive lecture hall. The teacher of this course is a postgrad student researching at ASU, and seems to be completely uninterested in making this course interesting or worthwhile. "I would really like for this course to be interactive," she told us, inferring that she would also really like a free ticket to Tahiti as well. I cringed a bit on the inside when she told us that most of what we would be studying would seem extremely transparent and obvious. Oh well, I could use some relaxation time. At least its supposed to get better as the class wears on.
The other class, which I havn't signed up for yet but seems to be the only class I CAN take to finish off my minor, is "Textiles in Interior Design" a small, upper division course with less than 30 people in it. While the human behavior class I can safely file under Mediocre, this textile class I think will be either really good or really bad. I'm actually a bit intrigued.
Ultimately these other classes mean I'll probably end up dropping the sketching class I'm currently signed up for, especially as its a late night class and apparently has a work load like another studio. El grand total course load would then be 14 hours.
One of the best things about today was seeing my old friends again, both those from Buenos Aires, and those who I've not seen in seven months. It was really cool to be back, to touch base, see how thier semester went, share anxieties over studio, and just to stand around and talk.
When I left for Abu Dhabi, I abandoned a beat up woman's mountain bike since I didn't have room in the storage unit and I'd gotten the $35 I'd paid for it out of it. Unwilling to let the loathsome bike thieves get it without a fight, I left it U-locked to a bike rack at my old apartment complex. Seven months later, I'm completely shocked by the fact that its still there, a little more rusty and dusty, but still with all parts intact. All that remained was to add some air to the tires and I was back in business. I think I've found a bike thats both really undesirable and difficult to steal- a good combination.
The other class I had today was taught by an extremely stiff man whose nationality stumped me until he revealed he was from Bavaria. Systems II is going to be extremely rigid with the first part focusing on lighting design, which seems to be our professor's forte who has a doctorate on the subject. Very clear and nearly metronomic diction, but we had no clue what he was talking about for most of the class. He danced around the questions so well, and seemed exasperated that he had to spell out what he wanted specifically for next class. This does not bode well. We're also expected to learn from scratch a new rendering program ("industry standard for lighting designers!") which I've never even heard of.
I'll get into changes in Tempe later. Its been a long first day.
My action items aren't acting very quickly. I still need an apartment, car, job, cat, and laptop. In the apartment department, one of my friend's friends needs a roommate and he lives relatively close to campus and is willing to take on a cat as well, so I'm going to check out his place tomorrow morning. Ideally, I'll be mostly moved in by this weekend although I'm not sure that's going to happen.
Today was the first day of school. My last undergraduate semester at ASU. It was a cold walk to school in the early morning since I have some serious issues to work out with the advising staff, so I was there early at 8 AM to hop in the long line. 4 basic problems:
1) I never got credit for my minor in design for a class I took a year and a half ago, so I needed to figure out how to get credit for it (turns out I need to petition for it by (SURPRISE) filling out some forms.)
2) Somehow I was signed up for two sections of the same class, one in Argentina which I took and got a grade for and the other which was in Tempe, which for obvious reasons, I couldn't attend, so I got a 0.0 INCOMPLETE mark on my records for it, which is equally obviously killing my GPA.
3) One of the classes I took in Argentina was a studio on Latin American design, which I realized that I was never signed up for, so it was ANOTHER form to take to my old professor, then to the faculty assistant chair, and then back to advising for approval. At least I got this issue resolved today.
4) My minor in design studies was relegated to back burner for Argentina, so I'm a bit behind. As far as I can tell, if I can get Issue 1 resolved, then all I need is two more design classes. One I'm already signed up for and the other I need to get approval for.
My options for these classes are somewhat not fun. I took "Human Behavior and Design" this afternoon along with 240 other students in a massive lecture hall. The teacher of this course is a postgrad student researching at ASU, and seems to be completely uninterested in making this course interesting or worthwhile. "I would really like for this course to be interactive," she told us, inferring that she would also really like a free ticket to Tahiti as well. I cringed a bit on the inside when she told us that most of what we would be studying would seem extremely transparent and obvious. Oh well, I could use some relaxation time. At least its supposed to get better as the class wears on.
The other class, which I havn't signed up for yet but seems to be the only class I CAN take to finish off my minor, is "Textiles in Interior Design" a small, upper division course with less than 30 people in it. While the human behavior class I can safely file under Mediocre, this textile class I think will be either really good or really bad. I'm actually a bit intrigued.
Ultimately these other classes mean I'll probably end up dropping the sketching class I'm currently signed up for, especially as its a late night class and apparently has a work load like another studio. El grand total course load would then be 14 hours.
One of the best things about today was seeing my old friends again, both those from Buenos Aires, and those who I've not seen in seven months. It was really cool to be back, to touch base, see how thier semester went, share anxieties over studio, and just to stand around and talk.
When I left for Abu Dhabi, I abandoned a beat up woman's mountain bike since I didn't have room in the storage unit and I'd gotten the $35 I'd paid for it out of it. Unwilling to let the loathsome bike thieves get it without a fight, I left it U-locked to a bike rack at my old apartment complex. Seven months later, I'm completely shocked by the fact that its still there, a little more rusty and dusty, but still with all parts intact. All that remained was to add some air to the tires and I was back in business. I think I've found a bike thats both really undesirable and difficult to steal- a good combination.
The other class I had today was taught by an extremely stiff man whose nationality stumped me until he revealed he was from Bavaria. Systems II is going to be extremely rigid with the first part focusing on lighting design, which seems to be our professor's forte who has a doctorate on the subject. Very clear and nearly metronomic diction, but we had no clue what he was talking about for most of the class. He danced around the questions so well, and seemed exasperated that he had to spell out what he wanted specifically for next class. This does not bode well. We're also expected to learn from scratch a new rendering program ("industry standard for lighting designers!") which I've never even heard of.
I'll get into changes in Tempe later. Its been a long first day.
Jan 11, 2007
Phoenix, again
I'm back safely in Tempe, Arizona. It feels strange to be back after nearly seven months abroad (not counting the two days I was here between continents). I have to remind myself not to be shocked by all the American students here, and I am very aware of how spread out and sprawling the city is. It's a hard reality to face, coming back from Etihad airlines and Swiss clean Abu Dhabi. I must contradict myself and confess that I am, truly and deeply, spoiled. If one had a scale of spoildness where 1 was an American who ate fast food a few times a week, and 10 was Paris Hilton, I think I'd fall somewhere in the 8s. You mean, there's no MercedesBenz to take me home? I have to wait in line at check-in myself? The hotel doesn't have suites or a sauna? They don't have hot meals or free wine on this flight? Welcome back to Tempe.
2007 should be an interesting year. On my first day of the new year, I went to the Pyramids at Giza, saw the Sphinx, went into the Pyramid of Khefren, and the tombs at the Zoser funerary complex, finishing the day at the ancient Egyptian capital of Memphis. We dined at an Italian restaurant in the triple security checkpoint zone of the Nile Hilton. My brother, mother, father, and grandmother were there with me. How much more spoiled can I get?
2007, year I graduate, start my serious career, plan for graduate school, and really take up the full responsibility for myself. I'm starting off with an intense workload- I need to get my laptop computer fixed, coordinating between Dell and my insurance people, find an apartment, shop for and buy a car, find car insurance, and figure out my working situation this semester. Its a little daunting, but I know I can do it if I just take each step one thing at a time, the way I've learned to travel. Don't worry about getting through the ticket line if you're still lining up transportation to the airport. As dad said, make a list and work the list.
It should be an interesting year.
2007 should be an interesting year. On my first day of the new year, I went to the Pyramids at Giza, saw the Sphinx, went into the Pyramid of Khefren, and the tombs at the Zoser funerary complex, finishing the day at the ancient Egyptian capital of Memphis. We dined at an Italian restaurant in the triple security checkpoint zone of the Nile Hilton. My brother, mother, father, and grandmother were there with me. How much more spoiled can I get?
2007, year I graduate, start my serious career, plan for graduate school, and really take up the full responsibility for myself. I'm starting off with an intense workload- I need to get my laptop computer fixed, coordinating between Dell and my insurance people, find an apartment, shop for and buy a car, find car insurance, and figure out my working situation this semester. Its a little daunting, but I know I can do it if I just take each step one thing at a time, the way I've learned to travel. Don't worry about getting through the ticket line if you're still lining up transportation to the airport. As dad said, make a list and work the list.
It should be an interesting year.
Jan 7, 2007
Egptian Holiday, Middle Period
I found Cairo to be filthy, lively, and mysterious. A city dominated by a religion alien to me, which still retained the decaying architcture of her past colonizers and occupiers, French and British. My impression from the few days I was there was that it was, like Buenos Aires, a cosmopolitan, international city with its glory days behind it and covered by the desert dust and the city grime. Perhaps I only imagined it, (as I tend to romanticize) but I could still sense some of that old movie feel, the combination of the the boats on Nile river, the dust, the victorian architecture, and the palm trees. It could just have easily stemmed from a past where mummies did stalk nosy archeologists on the streets.
There was some confusion on our arrival as to the room to be used by Taylor and me. They ended up giving us an executive suite when we checked in around 2 AM, with the warning that we might have to downgrade rooms in the morning. We were all wiped, so we said fine. The rooms were very, very nice. A living room with a writing desk and big tv ajoining a huge bedroom, all behind wooden screens. The largest bed I've ever seen, I believe it was wider than it was long, so it meant less bumping into Taylor while he was rolling around in his sleep. Both rooms had balconies and views out over the Nile, whihc was just across the street. The front desk called and asked if we liked the room that night a little after we had checked in. I told them it was great, and they said fine we could keep it.
The next day we met our guide downstairs in the lobby at 11, who was dissapointed we didn't show up six hours after we got to bed at 3 AM. She was a pushy 27 year old Egyptian woman who had probably just graduated from Egyptian tourism school.
At any rate, our first destination was the world famous Egyptian Musuem, which happened to be right beside the hotel. In fact, we asked if we could walk there but the guide looked at us if we had suggested we walk to the pyramids. "The driver is right here," she told us. So we drove around the block to go to the museum. As it was high season, the muesum was totally packed with large tour groups. Our guide would take us over to a certain artefact or sculpture, get a minute into talking about it when a massive group of Spanish tourists would mob the case, and thier guide would begin shouting in Spanish.
I'm just picking on that one tour group: there were actually tons of groups, mostly British, Russian, Chinese, and Japanese.
The Egyptian Museum was plauged by the Hermitage effect: World-class, priceless treasures housed in a developing world museum. Signage was terrible, there was no apparent coherance to the organization of the different parts of the museum, as if the dynasties had been randomly shuffled around the building. The building had once been beautiful, and was inspiring in its British neoclassicsm, but its interior and its displays have not been well maintained. The tour guides may have some role to play in this, as ours ignored signs to not lean on the old flimsy cases, or touch the statues and carvings.
The colllection was facinating to me, but overwhelming as there was far too much to be appropriately showcased. However, the gem of the collection, worth the price of admission alone, was the contents of the tomb of King Tutankhamen which occupied a massive hall, and a smaller gallery. The smaller gallery contained the gold, jewellry, and solid gold sarcophagai of the boy king. I was blown away by the intricacy of the relgion and culture as much as the sheer craftsmanship of the objects which alluded to it. It staggers me to think about my own ancestors in Europe, who were probably still hunting with flaked stone spears at the time.
The two hours we spent at the museum flew by and we traveld by minibus up to see the citadel of Cairo and the massive mosque built on it. The citidel is the highest plateau in the city, before the city reaches the rocky desert foothills. There is a massive mosque on top of the citadel, known as the alabaster mosque for its use of alabaster on the interior and exterior. It is a traditional courtyard type mosque, similiar to the Suleyman mosque in Istanbul, and pattered on the cascading domes of Hagia Sophia. The courtyard contained the french clock tower which the builder of the mosque, Mohammad Ali (not the boxer) had traded for one of the solid granite obelisks from Karnac. I've actually seen this obelisk before- it was erected at the front of the Tulieries in front of Louvre in Paris.
After the citadel we drove down to the Sultan Hassan mosque and madrassas. This is another very old structure in the city, consisting of a mosque attached to a courtyard with four Iwans which sheltered students from the four schools there. I thought the place was really cool. The Iwans are massively tall vaulted porticos, with lights on chains which hang down to a few yards of the ground. Students would sit in the Iwans, protected from the sun and the noise of the street.
Afterwards, the other mosque we were going to see was closed so we told the tour guide hahloss (finished) and we went back to the hotel.
It was New Years eve, so we had arranged to have a celebratory dinner in the restaurant at the top of the hotel. All fine and good. However, I neglected to bring appropriate footwear the Gala event so I ended up wearing my beach sandals. We arrived at 8 PM which I immediately relized would end up with us leaving as most of the poeple would be arriving to be able to still be there celebrating when the clock struck twelve. The set dinner was good, but not great, and we all retired to our living room to watch TV as is our Family New Years Tradition. Another part of that tradition is that mom and dad both get tired around 10:45, toast whatever part of the world where its currently midnight, and retire to bed.
Tay and I racked our brains for something a little more celebratory. We settled on ordering a bottle of "sparkling wine" on the "Egyptian Wine" list on room service, which ended up being my biggest mistake of the week. This was the worst alcoholic beverage I've ever tasted that came out of a glass bottle. Usually, after a while your taste buds are numbed by the alcohol so you don't notice the aftertaste as much, but this suff actually got worse as we drank it. Breaking my own rules about sunk costs and negative experiances, I still drank the stuff, especially after sinking an unmentionable cost in that one bottle. We were rewarded, however, for watching the road and the corniche from our balcony.
All day a crowd of Egyptians had been walking along the huge walk beside the Nile river in front of our hotel. As New Year was also conciding with an Eid, a three day holiday following Islamic holy days, all the famers and people all came in from out of town. They have no real disposable income, so they were primarily walking around to see whatever was free and to just enjoy enjoy themselves in the city. Actually, the first day of Eid, we were surprised to see piles of freshly slaughtered goats and sheep back in Hurghada, as it was custom to sacrafice those animals on that day. Anyway, around midnight, Tay and I were surprised to walk out on balcony to see a huge mob of people, 500 or more, standing on the traffic island and on the corniche across the street all obviously looking up at the hotel.
We had fun with it at first, waving to them regally as though we were pharaohs, delivering oratories, and blowing them all kisses and thanking them for all coming. After awhile it began to get a little unsettling. What the hell were they looking at? I was further unnerved by news reports of a bombing targeting westerners in Bankok. Did they know something I didn't? Apparently there was some celebrity up on the roof bar, or in the restaurant we had left nearly two hours before midnight.
They actually crossed the street and mobbed the exit in front of the hotel, causing great consternation for the security staff who had to nearly fight them off to let the cars get through. For the next hour the mob exploded and regrouped at various places in front of the hotel. Some clapped, some chanted, and not a few danced. It was an event. Finally the police showed up and began pushing the people back. The police moved the crowd back across the road, back to the corniche, and finally dispersed them. From our vantage point above the crowd, we were able to keep tabs on plainclothed officers who would periodically drag various people over, and chase other watchers away.
Must have been some party.
There was some confusion on our arrival as to the room to be used by Taylor and me. They ended up giving us an executive suite when we checked in around 2 AM, with the warning that we might have to downgrade rooms in the morning. We were all wiped, so we said fine. The rooms were very, very nice. A living room with a writing desk and big tv ajoining a huge bedroom, all behind wooden screens. The largest bed I've ever seen, I believe it was wider than it was long, so it meant less bumping into Taylor while he was rolling around in his sleep. Both rooms had balconies and views out over the Nile, whihc was just across the street. The front desk called and asked if we liked the room that night a little after we had checked in. I told them it was great, and they said fine we could keep it.
The next day we met our guide downstairs in the lobby at 11, who was dissapointed we didn't show up six hours after we got to bed at 3 AM. She was a pushy 27 year old Egyptian woman who had probably just graduated from Egyptian tourism school.
At any rate, our first destination was the world famous Egyptian Musuem, which happened to be right beside the hotel. In fact, we asked if we could walk there but the guide looked at us if we had suggested we walk to the pyramids. "The driver is right here," she told us. So we drove around the block to go to the museum. As it was high season, the muesum was totally packed with large tour groups. Our guide would take us over to a certain artefact or sculpture, get a minute into talking about it when a massive group of Spanish tourists would mob the case, and thier guide would begin shouting in Spanish.
I'm just picking on that one tour group: there were actually tons of groups, mostly British, Russian, Chinese, and Japanese.
The Egyptian Museum was plauged by the Hermitage effect: World-class, priceless treasures housed in a developing world museum. Signage was terrible, there was no apparent coherance to the organization of the different parts of the museum, as if the dynasties had been randomly shuffled around the building. The building had once been beautiful, and was inspiring in its British neoclassicsm, but its interior and its displays have not been well maintained. The tour guides may have some role to play in this, as ours ignored signs to not lean on the old flimsy cases, or touch the statues and carvings.
The colllection was facinating to me, but overwhelming as there was far too much to be appropriately showcased. However, the gem of the collection, worth the price of admission alone, was the contents of the tomb of King Tutankhamen which occupied a massive hall, and a smaller gallery. The smaller gallery contained the gold, jewellry, and solid gold sarcophagai of the boy king. I was blown away by the intricacy of the relgion and culture as much as the sheer craftsmanship of the objects which alluded to it. It staggers me to think about my own ancestors in Europe, who were probably still hunting with flaked stone spears at the time.
The two hours we spent at the museum flew by and we traveld by minibus up to see the citadel of Cairo and the massive mosque built on it. The citidel is the highest plateau in the city, before the city reaches the rocky desert foothills. There is a massive mosque on top of the citadel, known as the alabaster mosque for its use of alabaster on the interior and exterior. It is a traditional courtyard type mosque, similiar to the Suleyman mosque in Istanbul, and pattered on the cascading domes of Hagia Sophia. The courtyard contained the french clock tower which the builder of the mosque, Mohammad Ali (not the boxer) had traded for one of the solid granite obelisks from Karnac. I've actually seen this obelisk before- it was erected at the front of the Tulieries in front of Louvre in Paris.
After the citadel we drove down to the Sultan Hassan mosque and madrassas. This is another very old structure in the city, consisting of a mosque attached to a courtyard with four Iwans which sheltered students from the four schools there. I thought the place was really cool. The Iwans are massively tall vaulted porticos, with lights on chains which hang down to a few yards of the ground. Students would sit in the Iwans, protected from the sun and the noise of the street.
Afterwards, the other mosque we were going to see was closed so we told the tour guide hahloss (finished) and we went back to the hotel.
It was New Years eve, so we had arranged to have a celebratory dinner in the restaurant at the top of the hotel. All fine and good. However, I neglected to bring appropriate footwear the Gala event so I ended up wearing my beach sandals. We arrived at 8 PM which I immediately relized would end up with us leaving as most of the poeple would be arriving to be able to still be there celebrating when the clock struck twelve. The set dinner was good, but not great, and we all retired to our living room to watch TV as is our Family New Years Tradition. Another part of that tradition is that mom and dad both get tired around 10:45, toast whatever part of the world where its currently midnight, and retire to bed.
Tay and I racked our brains for something a little more celebratory. We settled on ordering a bottle of "sparkling wine" on the "Egyptian Wine" list on room service, which ended up being my biggest mistake of the week. This was the worst alcoholic beverage I've ever tasted that came out of a glass bottle. Usually, after a while your taste buds are numbed by the alcohol so you don't notice the aftertaste as much, but this suff actually got worse as we drank it. Breaking my own rules about sunk costs and negative experiances, I still drank the stuff, especially after sinking an unmentionable cost in that one bottle. We were rewarded, however, for watching the road and the corniche from our balcony.
All day a crowd of Egyptians had been walking along the huge walk beside the Nile river in front of our hotel. As New Year was also conciding with an Eid, a three day holiday following Islamic holy days, all the famers and people all came in from out of town. They have no real disposable income, so they were primarily walking around to see whatever was free and to just enjoy enjoy themselves in the city. Actually, the first day of Eid, we were surprised to see piles of freshly slaughtered goats and sheep back in Hurghada, as it was custom to sacrafice those animals on that day. Anyway, around midnight, Tay and I were surprised to walk out on balcony to see a huge mob of people, 500 or more, standing on the traffic island and on the corniche across the street all obviously looking up at the hotel.
We had fun with it at first, waving to them regally as though we were pharaohs, delivering oratories, and blowing them all kisses and thanking them for all coming. After awhile it began to get a little unsettling. What the hell were they looking at? I was further unnerved by news reports of a bombing targeting westerners in Bankok. Did they know something I didn't? Apparently there was some celebrity up on the roof bar, or in the restaurant we had left nearly two hours before midnight.
They actually crossed the street and mobbed the exit in front of the hotel, causing great consternation for the security staff who had to nearly fight them off to let the cars get through. For the next hour the mob exploded and regrouped at various places in front of the hotel. Some clapped, some chanted, and not a few danced. It was an event. Finally the police showed up and began pushing the people back. The police moved the crowd back across the road, back to the corniche, and finally dispersed them. From our vantage point above the crowd, we were able to keep tabs on plainclothed officers who would periodically drag various people over, and chase other watchers away.
Must have been some party.
Jan 4, 2007
Egyptian Holiday, Early Period
Most memorable moments from my trip through Egypt:
Fighting our way through Cairo airport, with our subpar guide who was supposed to guide us to the other terminal for our connecting flight to Hurghada. The two cars he arranged for this purpose were probably bought used from the Cairo Taxi pool, and our driver got lost driving us to the other terminal, while the other car stopped so the driver could get out and pray towards Mecca for a bit. But we made our flight, leaving from a terminal usually reserved for private charter flights as the regular terminal was fully dedicated to Pilgrims traveling to Mecca for the Hajj.
The do-it-yourself service experiance at the Hilton Hurghada Plaza, which reminded me more of a parody of or a training a regular Hilton. The place was completely filled with Russians on holiday, as most of the Brits and other Euros vacation in Sharm-el-Sheik. We fetched our own water, scavenged our own place settings at the buffet, and hunted down towel guys. The buffets were mediocre and we got sick of the same food.
SCUBA Diving in the Red Sea wearing 5 mm two-piece wet suits so we all looked like extras from StarTrek. The worst moments were stripping down to our bathing suits and slipping into the cold, wet suits in the cool, cloudy weather. Once we were suited and in the water, we were very warm. My favorite meals in Hurghada were the hot lunches served on the dive boat, a little buffet of local hot dishes prepared while we dived.
Seeing a highly toxic lionfish and swimming around a towering pinnacle of rock and coral in a relative seafloor desert. Also swimming through a lush coral garden where not a rock was seen for all the table coral covering it.
Walking down Hurghada's main street. The place only boomed as a tourist resort town in the last ten years from almost nothing, so the main street looks like something out of rural Mexico, except filled with tourist shops selling tee shirts and plastic ancient Egyptian junk and souveniers. Also, we were in the middle of a blowing dust cloud, but that didn't deter any of the shopkeepers from running out to grab us, shake our hands, and attempt to start a conversation which they hoped would end with us buying something from them. "Where are you from?" they would ask. "America! We love America!" they would proclaim, giving thumbs up signs, "come inside and see, my friends!" This little conversation we would have with every single seller we passed. Finally in irritation, Taylor replied that he was Korean. The shopkepper without a moments hesitation retorted "Me too!" After we realized we weren't going into any of the shops, we gave up and went back to the sanitzed disneyland of the hotel.
Until the end of the trip, I could not decide if the Egyptians we encountered were desperate for conversation because (A) they wanted to engage us to sell us something or swindle us (or more likely, both), (B) they were really bored, or (C) they were genuinely curious about life the United States.
Getting a deep tissue massage at the resort. They put mom and I in the same room with two tables and appeared perplexed that we didn't want to strip in the same room. "But he is your son," mom's massuse said. I ended up waiting outside until mom was on the table covered before coming in. It was not a great experiance. I'd never had a massage before, and it would be unthinkable to have a female massaging a man in a muslim country, so I was being rubbed down with oil by a small Pakistani man, which was uncomfortable enough without being in the same room as my practically nude mother. I found it impossible to relax. Bizzarely, at the end, they wrapped us in towels and hid at the bottom of the massage tables. Never having had a massage before, I wondered if it was something usual. They literally jumped out of hiding when mom asked "are we done?" We figured out later that they were giving us "'time to meditate" in our relaxed state. Taylor, who also got a massage in a different room, disliked his as well.
Picking our fish at the "cleanest" seafood restaurant in town. Dad, Taylor, and I were sick of the buffet, so dad decided to seek sustainance elsewhere. We tried to get a taxi from the front desk, but they called us a limo taxi which cost about ten times as much as a regular taxi would be. By chance, our local guide was there, who offered to drive us into town as he was heading that way anyway. He dropped us at a fish place he recommended, and we were reasured by all the Russians eating inside. We all picked out a fish to have outside and they cooked it all up for us, and served it by sailor-cap wearing waiters who all had name badges with the title of "captain."
Traveling by convoy across the desert wasteland to Luxor from Hurghada. We were told initially that we would travel by convoy "in case one of the vehicles broke down." This was for a four-hour drive. Granted, there were only a few outposts along the way, but when we got there we realized that the convoy consisted of a half dozen tourist busses and minibusses (like ours) and headed by a armored police truck with armed police in the back. Breakdowns, my camel. We were together as a security precaution against terrorists and bandits.
The desert itself was beautiful and rugged, pristine in its absolute inhospitability. It felt like a road trip on mars. It was a shocking contrast to the lush greenery when we crossed into the areas irrigated from canals stemming from the Nile.
Looking at hieroglyphics and carvings in the tomb of Ramses IX in the valley of the Kings, and walking around in the small canyon which held the great pharoes, including Tutankhamen. Sadly we had time to explore two of the 60 some tombs.
Crossing the Nile river on a local water taxi/ferry. Our party of six were the only people aboard the long, narrow open air craft, and we were nearly hit by a much bigger ferry. The distinctive sailboats could be seen sailing down the river in the late afternoon sun, and the pilot's young son practiced english with me, and began asking me for money. I refused, and later when he saw me writing in my moleskein, asked me for my pen, which I gave to him.
Exploring Karnac temple as the sun was beginning to go down. The orange light and shadows lent an amazing air of mystery and grandeur to the ruins. The temple is built on a scale which is almost unbelievable. This was my favorite place in Egypt.
Listening to our guide explain a extremely long carving of the Nile river at Luxor Temple which depicted the ceremonies of carrying the statues of the gods. Our guide was actually an Egyptologist who was working on a doctorate degree specializng in daily life of ancient Egyptians. While he was incredibly knowlegable about everything we saw, he had a detectable air of condesention to the effect that he'd much rather be studying and working on his dissertation than herding around a bunch of American yahoos.
I can understand to a certain extent. Mom added Luxor at the last minute, so we could only dedicate one afternoon to see the things that this Egyptologist had probably spent years studying. He did really look the part though, a stooped back, very overweight and unweildly shuffling along, with glasses, and pants belted high up his stomach.
The slowest-napkin unfolding event. This needs some explanation: we were dropped at the nicest hotel in Luxor for dinner, and we had three hours to kill before the van picked us up again. So, we took our jolly time, and really worked hard to linger. We lazily competed to see who could take the most time unfolding our napkins, (taylor won) and waiting for our drinks to arrive. The wait staff approached us twice to remind us that the buffet was self-service. We lingered over drinks, we lingered after the first plate, and the second, and over tea and coffee.
We flew on to Cairo at midnight, getting into our hotel at 2 AM, and getting to bed close to 3 AM.
Fighting our way through Cairo airport, with our subpar guide who was supposed to guide us to the other terminal for our connecting flight to Hurghada. The two cars he arranged for this purpose were probably bought used from the Cairo Taxi pool, and our driver got lost driving us to the other terminal, while the other car stopped so the driver could get out and pray towards Mecca for a bit. But we made our flight, leaving from a terminal usually reserved for private charter flights as the regular terminal was fully dedicated to Pilgrims traveling to Mecca for the Hajj.
The do-it-yourself service experiance at the Hilton Hurghada Plaza, which reminded me more of a parody of or a training a regular Hilton. The place was completely filled with Russians on holiday, as most of the Brits and other Euros vacation in Sharm-el-Sheik. We fetched our own water, scavenged our own place settings at the buffet, and hunted down towel guys. The buffets were mediocre and we got sick of the same food.
SCUBA Diving in the Red Sea wearing 5 mm two-piece wet suits so we all looked like extras from StarTrek. The worst moments were stripping down to our bathing suits and slipping into the cold, wet suits in the cool, cloudy weather. Once we were suited and in the water, we were very warm. My favorite meals in Hurghada were the hot lunches served on the dive boat, a little buffet of local hot dishes prepared while we dived.
Seeing a highly toxic lionfish and swimming around a towering pinnacle of rock and coral in a relative seafloor desert. Also swimming through a lush coral garden where not a rock was seen for all the table coral covering it.
Walking down Hurghada's main street. The place only boomed as a tourist resort town in the last ten years from almost nothing, so the main street looks like something out of rural Mexico, except filled with tourist shops selling tee shirts and plastic ancient Egyptian junk and souveniers. Also, we were in the middle of a blowing dust cloud, but that didn't deter any of the shopkeepers from running out to grab us, shake our hands, and attempt to start a conversation which they hoped would end with us buying something from them. "Where are you from?" they would ask. "America! We love America!" they would proclaim, giving thumbs up signs, "come inside and see, my friends!" This little conversation we would have with every single seller we passed. Finally in irritation, Taylor replied that he was Korean. The shopkepper without a moments hesitation retorted "Me too!" After we realized we weren't going into any of the shops, we gave up and went back to the sanitzed disneyland of the hotel.
Until the end of the trip, I could not decide if the Egyptians we encountered were desperate for conversation because (A) they wanted to engage us to sell us something or swindle us (or more likely, both), (B) they were really bored, or (C) they were genuinely curious about life the United States.
Getting a deep tissue massage at the resort. They put mom and I in the same room with two tables and appeared perplexed that we didn't want to strip in the same room. "But he is your son," mom's massuse said. I ended up waiting outside until mom was on the table covered before coming in. It was not a great experiance. I'd never had a massage before, and it would be unthinkable to have a female massaging a man in a muslim country, so I was being rubbed down with oil by a small Pakistani man, which was uncomfortable enough without being in the same room as my practically nude mother. I found it impossible to relax. Bizzarely, at the end, they wrapped us in towels and hid at the bottom of the massage tables. Never having had a massage before, I wondered if it was something usual. They literally jumped out of hiding when mom asked "are we done?" We figured out later that they were giving us "'time to meditate" in our relaxed state. Taylor, who also got a massage in a different room, disliked his as well.
Picking our fish at the "cleanest" seafood restaurant in town. Dad, Taylor, and I were sick of the buffet, so dad decided to seek sustainance elsewhere. We tried to get a taxi from the front desk, but they called us a limo taxi which cost about ten times as much as a regular taxi would be. By chance, our local guide was there, who offered to drive us into town as he was heading that way anyway. He dropped us at a fish place he recommended, and we were reasured by all the Russians eating inside. We all picked out a fish to have outside and they cooked it all up for us, and served it by sailor-cap wearing waiters who all had name badges with the title of "captain."
Traveling by convoy across the desert wasteland to Luxor from Hurghada. We were told initially that we would travel by convoy "in case one of the vehicles broke down." This was for a four-hour drive. Granted, there were only a few outposts along the way, but when we got there we realized that the convoy consisted of a half dozen tourist busses and minibusses (like ours) and headed by a armored police truck with armed police in the back. Breakdowns, my camel. We were together as a security precaution against terrorists and bandits.
The desert itself was beautiful and rugged, pristine in its absolute inhospitability. It felt like a road trip on mars. It was a shocking contrast to the lush greenery when we crossed into the areas irrigated from canals stemming from the Nile.
Looking at hieroglyphics and carvings in the tomb of Ramses IX in the valley of the Kings, and walking around in the small canyon which held the great pharoes, including Tutankhamen. Sadly we had time to explore two of the 60 some tombs.
Crossing the Nile river on a local water taxi/ferry. Our party of six were the only people aboard the long, narrow open air craft, and we were nearly hit by a much bigger ferry. The distinctive sailboats could be seen sailing down the river in the late afternoon sun, and the pilot's young son practiced english with me, and began asking me for money. I refused, and later when he saw me writing in my moleskein, asked me for my pen, which I gave to him.
Exploring Karnac temple as the sun was beginning to go down. The orange light and shadows lent an amazing air of mystery and grandeur to the ruins. The temple is built on a scale which is almost unbelievable. This was my favorite place in Egypt.
Listening to our guide explain a extremely long carving of the Nile river at Luxor Temple which depicted the ceremonies of carrying the statues of the gods. Our guide was actually an Egyptologist who was working on a doctorate degree specializng in daily life of ancient Egyptians. While he was incredibly knowlegable about everything we saw, he had a detectable air of condesention to the effect that he'd much rather be studying and working on his dissertation than herding around a bunch of American yahoos.
I can understand to a certain extent. Mom added Luxor at the last minute, so we could only dedicate one afternoon to see the things that this Egyptologist had probably spent years studying. He did really look the part though, a stooped back, very overweight and unweildly shuffling along, with glasses, and pants belted high up his stomach.
The slowest-napkin unfolding event. This needs some explanation: we were dropped at the nicest hotel in Luxor for dinner, and we had three hours to kill before the van picked us up again. So, we took our jolly time, and really worked hard to linger. We lazily competed to see who could take the most time unfolding our napkins, (taylor won) and waiting for our drinks to arrive. The wait staff approached us twice to remind us that the buffet was self-service. We lingered over drinks, we lingered after the first plate, and the second, and over tea and coffee.
We flew on to Cairo at midnight, getting into our hotel at 2 AM, and getting to bed close to 3 AM.
Jan 2, 2007
Back from Egypt!
Just returned from vacationing in Egypt. We spent four days in the red sea resort of Hurghada, an afternoon in Luxor, and three days in Cairo.
Here are some pictures from the trip:
by archalec
Here are some pictures from the trip:
by archalec
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
-
I’ve been seriously hungover before, so I was very happy to roll out of bed (still early) with little worse than grogginess, a slight heada...
-
I really enjoyed watching Dune, and it's such a cheesy movie, it made me wonder why I enjoyed it so much. I think what set it apart for ...
-
Saori and I started looking at wedding rings in Stuttgart and didn't get too far. For one, we could see the dollar signs accumulating in...
