Virtual Babylon

Back to life in France

2011-08-28T02:30:00.001-07:00

Bonjour =^^=

How about we try to continue building our virtual Tower? K. and N. (yes, my human can openers, or *they*) are going to be away from T-town most of the time and I feel like i could narrate their stories.

So, N. Is leaving for Heidelberg tonight, to start his thesis project. K. is currently in Toulouse at a conference. Here is what I have been hearing from her yesterday:

"The flight was very early, at 6:30, and we had to take the taxi to the airport. Due to unforeseen circumstances, we started from Tü at 5:30 instead of the planned 4:30. Can you guess how long it took us to get to the airport? 15 minutes! The driver was amazing, but I could not help praying for our lives at this speed. I continued to pray for our lives for the next hour and a half a bit later - in the plane to Lion. The plane was tiny, like a winged bus! It also felt like a bus, every little bump sent to the chairs and my vestibular system... It was truly scary, the skies are apparently not soft at all.

The hotel we are staying in is nice, a bit too far from the venue, but clean and spacious. We had a very nice evening yesterday with S.L. and K.'s sister, but Toulouse at night is so far no pretty sight - tons of drunk teenagers I don't feel comfortable being around. People pretend they don't speak English, saying "I don't speak English" with a perfect American accent. :( not everybody is like this, of course, e.g. I am very grateful to a couple who helped us to find the metro station. After my awkward "excusez moi, je ne parle pas Français" (no idea about spelling here), they were very nice to us and walked us to the station.

I'm trying to revive my French, but the problem is I never knew enough French for a comfortable conversation. I need to change this, after all, it is a beautiful language. "

French is beautiful indeed, it is similar to Cattish, esp. the Kittish dialect, so I'm looking forward to K. learning it.

I am deeply sad that K and N don't stay home as much as they used to, I hope I'm not the reason they go off so often. Perhaps I am too territorial, but I am a cat after all. I staying alone for a long time. Yes, I sleep 16+ hours a day, but firstly, people make great pillows, and secondly, it is great to wake up every few hours and see your beloved even if inferior friends working hard at their desks, filling their minds with information or their stomachs with food. I hope they will return soon...

=^^=

Location:Toulouse, France

au revoir

2010-04-25T08:03:00.000-07:00

As poet nicely put it this blog has run its life. In poet's own words (quoted without permission):

"Almost everyone has returned ... so there's not really any need for it"

I will probably try to write somewhere else about grad school drama at some point. And who knows maybe even come back to T town again at some point :)

Dancing in the moonlight, singing in the rain

2010-04-13T17:14:00.000-07:00

I'll be back in T-Town shortly after Pentecost, I'm thinking for at least the following year. I believe I've told most people why and how at some point; if I haven't and you're curious and you can't piece things together from what I've been writing in all the other places, let me know, I'm not meaning to exclude anyone but life has been craaaaazy... In the meantime, I'm studyingstudyingstudying for my MA exam, freaking out about it, and looking for a room in T-Town. If you hear anything, let me know.

Cheers & cherries!

-poet

LGSTX

2010-03-25T13:17:00.001-07:00

Noam Chomsky was in Stuttgart this week to receive a prize for his political work. The linguists at Stuttgart university used the opportunity to invite him for a talk, which took place yesterday. A large number of linguists from Tübingen attended, among them two members of the Virtual Babylon crew, and one crewman's owner. This was fun. The talk itself was, meh, as expected, something to definitely cross out on the list of things to do in this life, nothing more. My impression is that Chomsky developed some very important and plausible ideas early on, but that most of his later attempts at formalizing the principles of human language aren't really leading anywhere. This impression is all I can offer, not being familiar with most of the details.

Today I met up with a bunch of former coworkers to spell the word LGSTX with human letters. We even managed LINGUISTICS, though not in one shot. Why? Well, it's a surprise. I hope to have the resulting pictures up on Facebook soon. :)

Kill the bunny

2010-03-21T13:50:00.000-07:00

I am starting a garden. I tried gardening in the past but I can't say I was very successful (ke probably remembers the deplorable patch of lettuce that was growing next to the roses in liststrasse 21). This gardening business came about a while ago and we're in the midst of planting tomato seeds and some gladiolas (sp?) and even carrots. Farming of course is hard, otherwise all computer geeks would spend real (opposed to virtual) time in gardenville.

Why is it hard you say? Besides the obvious reasons i.e. physical pain, what you plant is not always going to grow. In the fall A. and I planted crocuses, a full bag of bulbs. About a week ago, after the snow melted, they started poking out of the dirt. We didn't realize that "others" were looking forward to the flower blossoms maybe even more than we did. By others I mean one of those fluffy rodents (either bunnies or squirrels) who are just as a excited about flowers. Not excited in the cuddly and fluffy way though ... excited in the "this looks yummy" way. So here we are now, guarding the window to catch the little buggers. (It crossed my mind to let the cat guard the flowers but needless to say, Spocky would be quite useless at the job). So dear babylonians, do you garden? Do you have pest problems?

Call for Participation

2010-02-17T10:29:00.000-08:00

Dear researchers,
I would like to bring to your attention this very important venue: ACH SIGBOVIK (the Assocation for Computational Heresy Special Interest Group on Harry Q. Bovik). Housing is free if you make your way to Pittsburgh but most importantly you can always Skype a talk. Most papers don't even need a talk.

Of course I posted about this last year as well.

Sometimes life is fun

2010-01-21T17:47:00.000-08:00

Good things:

I moved to a new office with lots of nice people
All my classes so far are interesting and with cool professors
It is raining all the time
I had a relatively nice semester break (given the circumstances)

Bad things:

I still don't know what to do with my life, just that I was mistaken when I thought I did
Organizing stuff for this semester's teaching job is a hassle
It is raining all the time
I am not used to getting up early any more, and therefore have to drink black tea again

Also, I have started drawing cartoons of people around here, and this one is actually funny even out of context. I'm on the right, without wings this time:

Watch it fight!

2010-01-13T22:01:00.001-08:00

I saw that ke started posting drawings over at his place. I decided I should finally post some of my own cartoons. And since they are so extremely context-specific, where else should they go but here?

Those were the days...

ups and downs

2010-01-13T07:52:00.000-08:00

+ taking one cool class (Neuroscience and Control Theory)
+ have two research projects
- feel like I have too many things to do for both of them and therefore I end up not doing much
+ after many successive decisions it turns out I am a teaching assistant this semester for Computational Photography
- it also turns out I need to spend quite some time on it
+ A is always sweet
- I have been generally cranky
+ my new year resolution is still holding up

p.s. Happy New Year! (yes, it's still allowed until the end of January) and on the 13/14 is also the Old New Year

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-25T19:47:00.001-08:00

Dear Babylonians,

a merry Christmas or whatever applicable solstice festivity to you all! We spent ours rather quietly - at home, to dinner with my advisor, and at the cinema. I'm less stressed out than I was because all my urgent papers are taken care of. I'm very happy about all the presents. Apart from that there isn't much to say, except that I am glad this blog still exists.

Cheers,
poet

Christmas in the Graveyard

2009-12-25T06:30:00.000-08:00

In the North, there is an ancient tradition of lighting modest little candles on the graves of loved ones on Christmas Eve. The cemeteries are open all through the night, and the whole scenery becomes especially haunting after midnight, when most of the people have retreated to their homes. There is a strong sense of hope and consolation in seeing that almost every grave is visited by some next of kin during the darkest night of the year, and every candle stands for somebody who took the pains of venturing out into the icy chill in order to pay respect to the deceased.

See another impressive, but copyrighted picture here.

For us, the picture also mirrors egalitarian society (nothing flashy or showy to be seen, no bigger candles for the "better" dead) and a country that can live with its past. It also fits this country well that by tradition the Norse president attends a Christmas party for the homeless and needy on Christmas Eve. Certainly only a symbol, but a symbol we sadly miss in other countries.

With these impressions from last night, we send greetings into all directions to wish you a merry Christmas and happy times in the new year. We can't wait to meet most of you again after our return in April.

C'mmon let's hear some holidays updates

2009-12-15T09:33:00.000-08:00

Nothing much is going on in Pittsburgh. This is the black week (black friday for CSD and today black tuesday for robotics). Finals are over, class grades are almost in, research is always going on.

I realized today that this is the 5th year (in the last 6) when I am not home for Christmas/New Year (I spent the holidays before coming to T town in Ro). A little sad but hey it was bound to happen. That being said tomorrow is the big Christmas party (and every other non denomination or religious holiday you can think of). Again we'll play stealing Santa so I expect loads of fun.

Solely from a research perspective I am absolutely psyched about Avatar. What can I say, I'm a sucker for performance capture fiascoes though this one from the trailers looks promising. I imagine the computational linguists in the area would have some interest in Na'vi.

Christmas cheer

2009-12-07T11:37:00.000-08:00

Ah the holiday season, we're all engulfed in of cheesy songs, we reside in over heated indoor spaces, and generally feel helplessly cheery. I for one, I am mostly cheerful in this bright day because the last ML HW was submitted. Badly done mind you but it is done. Now there are only a bunch of exam/project mess to sort out. And the research... Oh, the research

Anyways, I decided I have something worthy to say because I came across this brilliant rendition of modern writing with huge potential for the movie industry: NIGHTLIGHT.

I am trying to read it inconspicuously in the office but I may have to stop soon. People are getting suspicious of hysterical laughter.

Call for must-read's

2009-11-26T09:27:00.000-08:00

Mew all,

It's been a long time, this time i even feel sorry for having been hiding in the basement of our tower. But only a bit sorry, for the things i saw there were truly curious. I will write about them during the Christmas holidays, when I will be staying alone for longer stretches of time.

Meanwhile I have a question to you, dear Babylonians. K. has an e-book reader now and she is reading every minute she can - at her rare meals, in the bus, in the supermarket lines. A month ago there was so much she wanted to catch up with! And now she is past a couple of thousand of pages and her list of "must-read" in all capitals is almost empty. Do you have any suggestions? She likes thought-triggering literature but nothing really boring or mentoring. E.g. she really enjoyed reading Hermann Hesse, even though none of his books will be something she would want to read over and over again.

So, I'm eager to read about your suggestions!
Fluffy pre-Christmas purrs,
Your =^^=

stuff

2009-11-23T13:43:00.000-08:00

1. Audible free book
2. some google wave invites (first come first served). EDIT : they're gone :(
3. can someone write both a personal statement and a hw for me?

much later edit: got another batch of invites - let me know if you want one

Chimpsky, Folgen 174, 175, 176

2009-11-04T23:13:00.000-08:00

174. Die meiste Zeit verbringe ich ja damit, mir neue Theorien auszudenken, und verpasse dabei, was in der Welt so geschieht. Und so war ich leider nicht im Sprachevolutionsseminar dabei, wo man sich darüber stritt, ob ich nun lautliche oder Zeichensprache gelernt hätte. Das hätte ich ja ganz leicht beantworten können, nur hätten die mich nicht verstanden und es für dämliches Rumgefuchtel gehalten.

Apropos Evolution: Da war die Studentin, die ganz enttäuscht schaute, als ihr das "r" in "Sprachrevolution" im Stundenplan durchgestrichen wurde. Ich rieche eine Forschungslücke.

175. Brief erhalten. Also so einen am Computer. Email nennt man das. "Sehr geehrter Prof. Dr. Dr. Chimpsky, wir entschuldigen uns für die Verzögerung [jaja, das hätte gestern sein müssen] und freuen uns riesigst Ihnen mitzuteilen zu können die Freude haben zu dürfen, dass Ihr Paper "Grammar Induction with Innate Parameters" als Poster angenommen wurde." Ja, unerhört! Habe ich schonmal gesagt, dass ich Poster nicht mag? Da hängt man wie ein Affe vor dem Poster und wartet auf Bananen. Ist ja wie im Zoo: "Seht mal, der kleine rote Affe da! Was er wohl sagen würde, wenn er sprechen könnte?"

176. Wieder das Büro gehütet. Einem riesigen Kartenstapel bei der Entstehung zugeguckt. Darauf sind Constraints, für ein Spiel. Constraints, das war diese OT, wo, wie man weiß, nur "ba" rauskommt. Seit ich aber das mit der Stimmhaftigkeits-Markiertheit für Obstruenten verstanden habe, muss ich korrigieren: Es kommt "pa" raus. Und zwar mit unaspiriertem "p". Schließlich kenne ich mich auch in Phonomo... Phonomenologie aus.

Angeblich mögen die Studenten ja solche "Erlebnispädagogik". Ziemlich geschwollener Ausdruck für einen Kartenstapel, meint ihr nicht? Spielen dürfen statt aufpassen müssen, und dabei merken sie gar nicht, dass sie viel mehr lernen. Wo sind nur die guten alten Vorlesungen hin? Mitschreiben, bis die Finger bluten, sonst versemmelt man die Abschlussklausur? Viel zu markiert! Und auf einmal wird Faulheit optimal.

(Und wie immer kann ich, A., nichts dafür, wie Chimpsky sich die Dinge, die Ereignisse und Erklärungen dazu zurechtlegt.)

HW ruled

2009-11-03T21:14:00.000-08:00

What was grad school again? That place where you do research, great, amazing, research? That place where you go to talks and share ideas with people?

Well now, I dunno about others but precisely at this moment in time grad school is about (***drum roll***): DOING HOMEWORK. Lots and lots of homework. And no, it's not like you can say ")*@#&^&&!^% it!". It doesn't work like that. If you mess up some homework questions you have to redo them. Because you have plenty of time right?

Friday I was happy, chirping away. I had just turned in a hw and had taken a midterm. To top it of I had an adviser meeting early in the morning (and trust me those are rare enough to be celebrated). I was feeling motivated, determined, and positive about it. We decided I should make some new movies with a particular set of parameters and I was like "yeah sure, over the weekend".

I admit I wasted Saturday (first with glass blowing, then with naping all afternoon) on my own volition (and just being terrified of the hw due monday). Sunday was hw day. Monday was another hw day. Tuesday was hw redo day. Tomorrow I have another hw due. Fortunately I can take an extra day, which means that tomorrow is homework day again.

So maybe, just maybe I am lucky and Thursday I can do some actual research. Because Friday I have to start doing that hw...

Chimpsky, Folge 173

2009-10-30T10:25:00.000-07:00

Die Abenteuer eines kleinen roten Affen, Folge 173.

Es ist ziemlich eng hier in der Tasche. Am schlimmsten drückt das dicke Buch, ein rotes Buch immerhin, dabei hat er doch nie Bücher da drin. Was mich am meisten bedrückt: das Thema. Optimierungs... wasauchimmer. Eine von den "anderen" Theorien. Ketzer!

Man muss aber ein wachsames Auge auf sie haben, deswegen habe ich mich ja in die Tasche geschmuggelt. Dass sie nach all den Jahren immer noch dieser Theorie anhängen, kann ich beim besten Willen nicht nachvollziehen. Schließlich habe ich schon, als die Theorie veröffentlicht wurde, aufgezeigt, dass sie vorhersagt, jedes Wort in jeder Sprache sei "ba". Das ist selbst einem Affen zu wenig. Ich kann immerhin 125 verschiedene Wörter! Aber es glaubt einem ja keiner.

Und dann sitzen sie da, richtig viele sogar. Jetzt müsste nur jemand ihnen die richtigen Theorien beibringen, dann könnten sie gute Linguisten werden. Aber nein: Sie gehen in den OT-Kurs. Sie sind noch viel zu jung, um das kritisch betrachten zu können. Die glauben einfach, was man ihnen erzählt. Also liegt die Verantwortung bei mir, aber ich sitze hier unten in der Tasche, während die sich überlegen, das Buch zu kaufen! Ich fühle mich entsetzlich hilflos.

Diese polemische Rhetorik kennt man ja. "Glaubt ihr das denn?" fragt er. Als wenn er ein Nein akzeptiere. Natürlich glauben sie es ihm, oder sagen zumindest nichts. Bis auf einen, aber der ist mir auch nicht geheuer. Denkt zu viel.

Am Ende darf ich doch noch raus, als die meisten schon weg sind. Eigentlich ganz nette Leute, sie mögen mich. Nur von richtiger Linguistik wollen sie nichts hören. Nächstes Semester halte ich einen Kurs, versprochen!

The power of ideas

2009-10-29T15:37:00.000-07:00

Nachamu and myself have just returned from a two-day trip to Tallinn, which was so great and inspiring that I just had to break my ancient habit of not posting anything of interest here. The ancient and very well-preserved medieval town is full of interesting museums and shops selling affordable handicraft that is even not too touristy but quite artful, so this already warrants a clear recommendation (try to go in summer, though, it can be incredibly cold).

The main reason why I enjoyed this trip so much is that I had visited Estonia more than 6 years ago, and the last time I had been roaming the ancient streets below the "Kiek in de Köök" was with a group of Estonian and German pupils on a student exchange program. My home province of Germany has the privilege of an exchange partnership with this astonishing country (no pun intended), which allowed me to come to Estonia twice for a few weeks. My Estonian has since become a little rusty, but some other memories turned out to be very fresh and drew me towards a painting that had been fascinating me six years ago.

The Danse Macabre by Bernt Notke was actually painted in Lübeck, the inscriptions are in Low German, the beloved traditional language of my home province before High German took over, and the official language of the Hanseatic League. From about 30 figures describing in dialogue form the dance of Death with persons through all strata of society from pope to newborn child, the first five can still be seen in St. Nikolai's church. In my heavily existentialist phase six years back, this painting had made a deep impression on me. I had been reading "La Peste" by Camus, and this painting came from a time when the Plague had ravaged the land, destroying the medieval society and depriving nobility and clergy of their legitimacy, which is impressively mirrored in the text, where Death literally says that even the pope becomes like him, everyone being equal in death. A gloomy reminder of the futility of our endeavours in life, or the absurdity of existence as such.

Quite surprisingly, the dismal painting has an entirely different meaning to me now than it had six years ago. Instead of existentialist views, I now find my Buddhist views reflected in the painting. Sitting in front of the painting, engrossed by the pain and suffering transmitted over the centuries in such a direct way, I came to acknowledge for the first time that I do actually believe in rebirth by now. I always try to rationalise my beliefs for fear of becoming unscientific, degrading them to mere working hypotheses, good explanation models until it turns out to be different. But reviewing this enormous painting after six years allowed me to contrastively observe the development of my feelings. I knew exactly how I felt then about death, was able to peek into my own mind six years back. How desperate I really was, how pointless it all seemed. Now I even feel it is good that all beings encounter death in the wheel of suffering, the painting consoled me instead of agonizing me as before. The transforming power of ideas is appalling.

Jean Véronis

2009-10-29T08:01:00.000-07:00

is a French computational linguist who's apparently so well known that a daily newspaper expects its readers to know him. He's active in both academia and business, and has also written books about the language of politicians - probably the reason for his popularity. Still, quite fascinating that one of our profession ended up famous. Judging by his blog, he's mainly concerned with Information Retrieval.

and in other news

2009-10-26T15:42:00.000-07:00

let's go for a walk :)

a friend from France pointed out the irony in the name.

new trends in hoax science

2009-10-23T12:44:00.000-07:00

Just got back form the most ridiculous meeting after listening to a ridiculous business spiel. On Friday every other and other week we have this gait variability meeting with respectable professors, statisticians and even computer scientists like myself. Today after going over ppt slides, graphs raised high above our heads to show results and general commentary on the bad weather, we were surprised with a demo. A demo that "makes my research and that of the other people in the room completely useless" as one professor put it.

The demo was from a company that sells tshirts with special properties. The human body can be made to balance better, be more flexible, more productive (probably on the list of claims there's also weight loss) by simply wearing a piece of cloth (any cloth) that has been imbued with a special substance. The substance cannot be disclosed due to patent infringements at the moment. Anyways, it's like magic, only better. Of course we tried it. I almost didn't touch my toes. The first time and the second time. :)) with and without the tshirt wrapped around my neck. The scientific method had been trashed and soiled in just 10 minutes of conversation.

The one thing I liked (well ok, the whole session had a highly amusing aura and is going to make for several party conversations) is how the big cheese at the table (head of department and famous researcher) dealt with the situation. While the two students in the room (me and another guy) were alternating between hysterical laughter and throwing tomatoes (sadly none were at hand) at the "speaker", our academic advisers were graciously dealing with the fraudsters. Delightful. The only thing they got out of them was some mumbo jumbo on natural frequency and blocking off waves from cell phones. Oprah should start promoting a yoga pill and stop dealing with ridiculous acaii berry claims :).

I went back and asked to try a tshirt. I plan a wide set of experiments to test different hypotheses:
1. Generality over different populations: Wrap up Spocky in it and see if she can stand on one leg. I may have to do some cutting and stitching to outfit her in a full supercat with cape and mask
2. Effect Magnitude Boundaries(by trying it in a desperate case): Inconspicuously offer it to my roommate and see if he will feel energetic and balance with the trash bags towards the exterior of the house.
3. Side effects :Put it on our very expensive humanoid robot S. and see if suddenly rather than leaking oil he'll start not only walking but doing ballet and speaking in french.

UPDATE: alas, the technological secrets have been lost. I forgot the tshirt in a common area and by the time I was back it was gone. I doesn't happen often to have things disappear so the only logical conclusion is that the tshirt was running for cover ever since it was talk about a scissor. After all, a magic tshirt can do that.

Acronyms

2009-10-19T16:38:00.000-07:00

The Vorlesungsfreie Zeit has officially ended. Y. and I finished the term paper we were working on for the last couple of weeks, then I moved all folders related to the last semester into a new folder that is not going to be opened for a while and ceremonially created two new folders: CAFE and SALT. That's short for the classes I'm going to take: Computational Approaches to Functional Elements (gonna be fascinating) and Service-oriented Architectures for Language Technology (gonna be fun and cheap credits). I strictly applied the folder naming scheme that I have followed since my first semester (initials of all words except conjunctions, pronouns, articles and prepositions), although I admit that not treating "oriented" as a word of its own was not an a priori decision. So acronymwise, this will be an awesome semester, much better than when our professor D. first came to Tübingen and forced me to label virtual and real folders with the very unhealthy-sounding UNLPFLASSL for Using Natural Language Processing to Foster Language Awareness in Second Language Learning. The seminar should just have been called Intelligent Computer-Assisted Language Learning, which was just plain what it was about, despite the effort to give the title some sharp-witted twist, some particular perspective. Same with CARTESE (Computational Approaches [whoa, who would have thought so!] to Recognizing Textual Entailment [that's what the class should have been called] and Semantic Equivalence [yeah, that's like calling a class Introduction to Phonetics and Vowels]) - but that at least sounded very nice, reminding vaguely of major player in Western philosophy and mathematics. With CAFE, D.'s naming furor seems to be fading. Oh, and I also created a folder CN because I'm finally going to try to learn the basics of Chinese in Chinesisch für Nichtsinologen.

KE/MI

2009-10-12T15:19:00.000-07:00

I promised more about the creative aspects of M. and my relaxing and creative days in Tübingen in late August. And I will keep my word. It's all about KE/MI. This melodious and graphically appealing abbreviation first appeared on a poster we designed for our high school drama group in 2003 (btw., the poster features a nice example of Wehdem):

Since then, KE/MI has mainly stood for old camcorders, avantgarde scripts, homemade backdrops, shameless inside humor, all-nighters with nonprofessional video editing equipment, obsessive attention to detail, projects done mainly for the outtakes, for an immense amount of fun that happened mainly between 2003 and 2005.

Until now, it was hard for us to force our friends to watch our creations because they existed scattered over quickly decaying data mediums in obscure formats (e.g. SVCD) that took an average of trying out three operating systems before they would play. Not anymore! In August we chanelled our creativity into finding, editing, and (again!) compressing them for upload to Vimeo. So check out our

☞ Short Films ☜

Homeland Security

2009-10-04T09:08:00.000-07:00

So M. and I returned from our enormously enjoyable trip to the USA last week. The travelogue will come in installments. I will keep up a chronological order for as long as I feel like it. ;-)

I had already been in London twice, so when I got there we made sure to do nothing during the two days, least of all anything touristy, and taking a rest before our long flight. Which went smoothly. Passing the border at the airport of Charlotte NC was exciting: taabraskifloosok had told me things about his first time entering the US, and the man who checked us had a very denying attitude indeed. My worry whether they would be cool with me bringing rosebud tea for auract into the country was unsubstantiated, though.

The officer who never smiles later returned with company, when we were already waiting for our connecting flight to Pittsburgh. M.'s name (and looks? and going to school in another country?) earned him a private chat with the two officers. Where were his parents from? Had he ever been to the Middle East? What was he doing in London? The moment he answered this question, he said, the situation turned from dangerous to ridiculous. The uptight officer started forming a Mime Wall to make sure he got the answer right. Too bad I couldn't see this.

More spirituality and other news

2009-10-04T01:14:00.000-07:00

While commenting on poet's post, I felt like I could go on and on about spirituality, church, Quakers... So I decided to make this a post.
A lot has changed since my/our last post: t. and I feel like we've finally arrived here for good and found some people who talk. For me it's the Quakers and the Changemakers, a liberal, leftist christian youth group and t. has found some nice Buddhists. He accompanied me to the Changemakers though, and helped establish that we speak Finnish - it took as some fifteen minutes of persistently answering English questions in Finnish. People would even compliment us on our Finnish - in English.... Well, they feel that their language is very difficult and they must compliment anyone for even attempting a few words and still speak English with them.... Anyway, we had fun and I didn't even get a headache.
We both found tandems and we will meet some blogger friends of mine on thursday.
Anyway, spirituality is still complicated for me here: the protestant church does a lot of high liturgy, much like Anglicans or even Catholics do, and at times I feel there is not much else but tradition, decorum and symbolism. So I spent a lot of time wondering 'Whatever has this got to do with life, with real people?' and I decided to look elsewhere for inspiring services. This proves a bit difficult, because I'm a very liberal, leftist girl, while most of the Freikirchen tend to be on the conservative(or even evangelical) side. So I turned to the Quakers and spent an interesting afternoon with them. They meet in a tiny apartment which has a very homely, lived in, living-fossil-from-the-seventies feel. There, they sit around silently for half an hour and then discuss whatever was revealed to them. There's tea and cake (coffee only on sundays) and a lot of chatter. All of them are well over 50 years old, but that's something one kind of gets used to in church and in folk dancing outside of T-town. I really liked it there and I'll be going there again, but it's not exactly what I was looking for. I do like sermons and creeds and songs.... So my search for the perfect church continues.
Anyway, much of my frustration is due to having spent too much time around T-town's extremely conservative theologians. I feel very much unwanted by my church because they won' t let me be a pastor with t. at my side. I gave up on speaking my mind, because all I got was blank stares or warnings that I was a heretic. I started racking my brain for good biblical quotes before uttering a single word. I felt looked down on by people who feel that all there is in the world (or should be for a good Christian) is missionizing, missionizing, missionizing, worship, worship and some more missionizing. I went through a seminar on interreligious learning and theology of religion with a professor who seriously wants to prove that christianity's truth claims are more substantial than others and that they have more explanatory power, are clearer and more concise than other relgions'. So, in essence, he wants to prove that christianity is best and all the other religions are inferior. I spent my time there trying to point out, that clarity depends on one's point of view ( it may make sense for us, but not necessarily for everybody. it may seem simple to us, because we know all those terms and their meanings...) and that we are necessarily biased and couldn't we just wait until Judgement Day when God will prove whatever He wants to prove.... Well, I also went to sleep quite often to prevent myself from gnawing on the table in frustration.
Anyway, that's why I'm feeling like taking a vacation from theology. Sorry for the rant!
I think I'll have to go and seriously wake t. and then I'll start prepping the tempeh for lunch. That is one of the best things about living in a big city: Plenty of fascinating food from immigrants' stores. The stores here are mostly Indian or East Asian, not Near Eastern as in Germany. It seems that the Vietnamese are what Turks are in Germany (largest group of labor migrants) and the Somali have the role of Ex-Yugoslawians (largest group of asylum seekers/refugees). There are a few people from the Near East around and I love seeing them in the street because it feels like home. It's also funny to hear children who are clearly of Asian or African descent speaking Finnish; they at least seem to be more integrated here.

Yoga

2009-09-30T21:48:00.000-07:00

Since t. is probably not going to write his Buddhist retreat story from last November, and since I've been told by two people independently that I'm whining too much about things lately, and since whining was what I did when I last wrote about spirituality, here's an attempt at amending for this and talking about a positive experience.

I've been "doing yoga" for about a month now (t. says this sounds like "doing crochet" or "doing sports" and is somehow strange, but I can't find a better light or heavy verb to describe it - "yogaing" is just as bad!). It's only once a week, and it's probably a sort of softened variant - the class is called "Restorative Women's Yoga" and takes place at the UC Village's community center on Wednesday nights, after my long and exhausting teaching day. Don't you dare laugh at me. You know that with my weird mindset, if I had time I'd be going to all yoga classes available, trying to make this into something competitive, trying to accomplish complex strenuous poses sooner than everybody else, and it would be utterly frustrating, of course! ... but this way, since it's the only class that takes place at a time that I can make, I'm compelled to be more relaxed and thereby fulfill the purpose of yoga much better. It's very relaxing, very good for my body, strains muscles I didn't know I had (to utter at least one cliché), and I'm even getting better at the clearing-your-mind part though most of the times a lot of internal babble is still going on.

I think they should teach yoga in schools. Instead of P.E.. Without a grade. Because it gets you in touch with your body, and gets you to do positive things for your body and soul, it's non-sexist and non-sexual as far as I can see, it's sufficiently remote from its religious source to not be a cause of outrage unless you've got some absolute religious fanatics among the students' families, yet tied to enough positive-energy-philosophy to get a beneficial message across to them. It would probably keep a lot of girls from developing body image issues, and a lot of nerds from being laughed at for not being good at sports, and maybe even get the bullies to think about what they're doing, and everyone would be happy-happy-happy... no, before I let the hippie spirit inhabiting Berkeley completely run away with me, I don't believe yoga is a panacea. But it's definitely a much better option than ballet lessons to get a child to be graceful and in touch with herself. And I'm very glad I finally started yogaing.

Any thoughts on this? I don't know when else I'll post again - I'm currently working 12 hours a day and if I'm not, I'm too exhausted and too busy regenerating to do anything mentally challenging... Hopefully I'll still get back to more regularity here.

Bye-bye,

poet

Winter Smell

2009-09-24T13:38:00.001-07:00

Tübingen has now assumed its winter smell. I somehow associate it with the Currywurst smell emanating from the X in Kornhausstraße. But that can't really be it, the winter smell is more pleasant. It's smoky, somehow. Maybe it's a kind of heating used.

Do you associate any particular odors with Tübingen?

Working on adjustment

2009-09-17T09:39:00.000-07:00

A lot has happened since t. and I last posted. We have arrived in Helsinki and moved into our room. We're really happy with that one: it's greyish, clean and looks spacier than it is. After a marathon of information meetings (which were absolutely chaotic and pretty useless ; I can read the handbook myself, thank you very much) we were finally let loose to meet real Finns and lead a real life.
After basically talking peoples' ears off (there are a few things a foreigner must know in Finland: You're not a real person without a social security number, you can hardly survive without a mobile phone and by definition, you don't speak Finnish at all), I was allowed to take the examination for the degree students' language course. Because, intermediate language courses are for degree students only, the exchange students (600) can attend the basic courses (7 groups) .... Anyway, I made it into Continuation 2 and my Finnish is improving. Now, when people talk to me, I'm still very busy understanding what they say, but at least I can manage a "yes" or "no" or "when?". So now people could actually assume that I understand them. But especially the theologians will almost always answer back in English - even when it is obvious that I understood their colloqiual Finnish. Couldn't they be so kind as to speak simple, standard Finnish with me? At least, I don't stick out as much as t. and am not totally alone among taciturn Finns.
- Yeah, so I (t.) will try to keep it short and just proclaim that I miss the social interaction with you guys. I am usually far remote from all the other foreigners at the university, except in some language courses. I somehow have the desire to avoid too much interaction with other international students (because I want to practice speaking Finnish), but this could really drive me into a bad kind of isolation. It's not only that no-one seems to be curious about where I come from or what I am doing in their courses. The Finnish student crowd even disperses immediately after the lectures, I barely see any Finnish students talking to each other before, during, or after lectures. I know I am kind of spoilt by the quasi-identity of the set of my friends and the set of my fellow students in Tübingen, but I simply cannot detect any interaction whatsoever between these people. I certainly knew what to expect in this country, but I wouldn't have expected it to be this hard. With foreigners, all this is just so much less problematic. After passing the test that is usually held after all the language courses with a good enough grade, at least I am allowed to attend a writing course in Finnish. The people there are all more or less foreigners, only some of them have Finnish ancestors, most of them are advanced students of Fennistics from Eastern Europe. So I have found at least one talkative group of Finnish-speaking people. It is a little bit of a weird experience, though, to have Finnish as a lingua franca between Germans, Russians, Poles, Romanians and Hungarians :-)

KE is in town :)

2009-09-10T21:13:00.000-07:00

now, and here.

happy weeeee

What makes a successful religion?

2009-09-03T14:01:00.000-07:00

I was doing some groceries the other day with my roommate F. when we side lined into a discussion about religion. It was all about Ain Rand, cults and the sort. Mind you we were shopping at Costco, probably the best example of consumerism (coming second only to Walmart) where you can get usb sticks by the dozen and Starbucks cards with $5 off if you buy 5. This prelude was necessary to set the stage for out more philosophical (even socialistic) inclinations while make it a personal goal to try all the samples (at least the vegetarian ones).

Anyways, back to religion. I think that if it's something of value you can invent it must be a political doctrine or a religion. F's take is that he wouldn't be proud of inventing a religion that doesn't do good to humanity. (The cynics among us might say: "wait, what religion has ever done good to humanity?"). Of course there is an almost academic merit to inventing Scientology even though the good it does to humanity is limited (unless you're Tom Cruise).

So let's see, to get a religion up its feet you need a large group of people willing to emotionally accept a certain social doctrine. Accept here is synonym with "believe" or have faith. Rituals need to be instilled that preserve the social doctrine: the offsprings of the believers are thought to automatically belong to the group like some sort of linear combination of the basis vectors.

This social doctrine is a mix of reality and fantasy with fantasy claiming to explain something that the large group of people usually needs. So what you get in return is a comforting theory, a way to rationalize something (very likely to solve a cognitive dissonance).

I am writing this blog post with the hope that it will clarify some of my ideas on the matter and I would really like to carry on a discussion about it. So please feel free to comment, post more on the theme. I want to stop before it turns into an essay.

Voz de Arelho

2009-09-03T07:59:00.000-07:00

Tja, ich wollte was über meine 10 Monate in Portugal schreiben. Aber irgendwie schaffe ich es nicht, zusammenzufassen und einer längeren Erfahrung einen Sinn hinzuzuerzählen. Ich weiss nicht, ob es an „unserer Zeit“ liegt oder an mir, und ob es schlimm ist. Ich merke auch, dass mich niemand sonderlich ausfragt über das kleine Stück Leben in sich, dass ich gelebt habe, nicht mal die Menschen, die mir ganz nahe stehen. Und dass ich es gut so finde, weil ich kaum was erzählen könnte. Geht es Euch allen so nach einer langen Reise?

Also schreibe ich lieber über meine kleine Abschlusswanderung in Portugal.
Ich bin ganz spontan mit zwei Freunden, Zelt und Schlafsack in die kleine Fischerstadt Peniche etwas nördlich von Lissabon gefahren. Unser Plan war, einfach die Küste entlang nach oben, bis zur Mündung des Flusses Arelho zu laufen. Man muss sagen, die Portugiesen haben einfach nicht die Gewohnheit, zu wandern. Sie hocken alle auf dem Strand, wo es Restaurants und eine gute Verbindung zur Stadt gibt, und wenn es irgendwo so etwas wie Wanderwege gibt, sind sie mit rot-weissen Plastikstreifen gekennzeichnet, die hier und da an den Büschen hängen.

Aber bevor wir losmarschiert sind, haben wir uns Peniche angeschaut. Es ist eine niedliche kleine Stadt mit pittoresken bunten Häusern und Straßen, die direkt zu Felsen und Meer führen. Sie muss eine beliebte Ferienstadt sein, aber von Touristen war keine Spur zu sehen, nur eine alte Frau rannte uns nach und bat uns vergeblich „schambres“ an. Der andere Wirtschaftszweig von Peniche, der Fischfang, zeigte sich in einer großen Fischfrostfabrik und, ganz traditionell, in den in der Wind trocknenden Stockfischen (das portugiesische Nationalessen).

Die Hauptsehenswürdigkeit der Stadt ist die Festung, wo zu Salazars Zeiten ein politisches Gefängnis war, und nun ein Museum. Dort haben wir lange mit einem alten Mann gesprochen, oder vielmehr ihm zugehört. Ihn hat es wohl sehr gerührt, dass sich drei Ausländer Geschichten über die Diktatur und seine Jugend gerne anhören, die seinen eigenen Enkel nicht interessieren. Mir ist besonders in Erinnerung geblieben, dass sein Badeanzug damals nicht nur die Brust zudekte, sondern auch unten ein Röcklein hatte. Und dass man alle Nachrichten über die Sowjetunion genau umgekehrt zu lesen müssen glaubte – so wie man das in der Sowjetunion mit den Nachrichten über den Westen machte. Sowohl der Westen, als auch die Sowjetunion kamen bei dieser schlauen Umstellung zu gut davon. Ein alter Portugiese, eine Italienerin, ein Deutscher und eine Russin, die in einem ehemaligen Gefängnis tief in portugiesischer Provinz sich über Diktatur unterhalten – ich muss sagen, Erasmus und Schengen ist schon eine gute Sache. Immer noch ein bisschen surreal für mich, und recht unvorstellbar für die meisten Menschen in Russland, die ich kenne.

Irgenwann gegen Abend marschieren wir los. Nach einer Stunde sind wir immer noch im Industriegebiet von Peniche, wir laufen an einer Staße entlang, und meine bequemen Sandalen fangen an, unbequem zu werden. Mit von B. ausgeliehenen Socken wird es besser, und vor der Dunkelheit erreichen wir ein Gebiet, wo keine Autos mehr sind, und wo es sich zelten lässt. Es sind hohe rote (Lehm?)hügeln direkt über dem Strand. Ich verzehre auf dem Abendlager zum Entsetzen des Veganers C ganz barbarisch mit der Hand Sardinen aus der Dose. A findet heraus, dass Arelho zum Vertauschen ähnlich einem bösen portugiesischen Schimpwort klingt. Wir sind alle drei sehr glücklich darüber. Am Morgen stehe ich als erste auf, finde den Weg runter zum Strand und gehe schwimmen. Der Himmel ist grau, der Strand komplett leer, und die Wellen herrlich. An dem Tag sehen wir nur Hügeln und Felsen und Strand. Fast keine Menschen.

Am Nachmittag kommen wir zu einem Strand mit Sonnenschirmen und einem Rettungsschwimmer. Da wir nichts mehr zu Essen und zu Trinken haben, klettern ich und A. die Treppe herab, die Zivilisation zu suchen. Der Ort entpuppt sich als ein riesiges Golf-Hotel mitten in der Pampa. Ein norwegisches Paar versichert uns, dass es einen kleinen Laden auf dem Gelände gebe, es sei aber „quite expencive“. Die Norweger gewöhnen sich schnell an das Gute. Am Ende waren es keine portugiesischen, aber ich glaube, die normalen norwegischen Preise. Nach dem Mittagessen marschieren wir durch ideal gepflegte Golffelder weiter. Ich fühle mich mit dem großen Rucksack und in der dreckigen alten Jeans wie eine Marsbewohnerin... oder wie eine Lumpenproletarierin. Die Leute schauen uns schief an. Eigentlich würden wir uns schon gerne niederlassen – aber auf einem Golffeld darf man wolh nicht zelten?.. Das Gelände zieht sich über Kilometer. Irgendwann sind wir aber wieder im Freien, auf dem Strand und dann in einem kleinen Nadelwald. Dort übernachten wir.

Am morgen stehe ich wieder früh auf und gehe zum Strand. Ein Pärchen, das ich überrascht habe, zieht sich an – die Armen! Meine Freunde wollen am gleichen Tag nach Porto weiterreisen, darum haben sie keine Zeit zum Baden. Zu essen und zu Trinken haben wir auch nichts mehr. Alle Assoziationen zu „Arelho“ werden ausgeschöpft. Gegen Mittag stehen wir aber über dem Arelho – und Hunger und Durst und der schwere Rucksack sind vergessen! Der Fluss ist aber nicht so zahm, wie wir dachten, und lässt sich auch während der Ebbe zu Fuß mit Rucksack nicht durchwaten. Die Retter mit ihrem Gummibot wollen uns erst nicht helfen, da sie nicht da seien, um Leute hin und her zu fahren. Aber nachdem sie hören, dass wir schon drei Tage zu Fuß unterwegs sind, was in Portugal eine Unmöglichkeit ist, sind sie gerührt und fahren uns rüber. Meine Freunde marschieren gleich weiter zur Busshaltestelle.

Ich versuche noch, ein wenig den Strand zu genießen, aber verstehe, dass ich auf offenen Stellen bis auf den Scheitel verbrannt bin. Die erste portugiesische Familie, die ich nach dem nächsten Bus in die Stad Caldas de Rainha frage, bietet mir an, dahin mitzufahren. Ich mache dort noch ein bisschen Sightseing, aber es gibt gar nichts, nur sonnenverbrannte leere Straßen und einen Park, der schön zu sein scheint, weil er kühl und grün ist. Nach kurzer Überlegung kaufe ich mir kein pornographischens Mitbringsel und fahre mit dem Bus getrost nach Lissabon.

Re-posted, from the wordplayground

2009-08-31T22:14:00.000-07:00

[A text similar to one I wrote on my lj recently, but in English this time]

I have a strange and crazy nostalgia for Tea-Town. Crazy inasmuch as it refers to one particular era: the autumn of 2006. Real autumn - tempestuous skies, falling leaves, cold and rain. That one small patch of campus grounds in which I move around daily, between Brechtbau and New Aula. Behind that downtown, ancient downtown with its beautiful houses, who would have told me I'd miss frame houses? I miss my old annoying bike with only three gears. Miss the strenuous ride up the hill to a Halloween party in Studo where I went together with Aditu, and where pretty much everyone else went too. Miss the hissing of the horrible dust-spitting heating system in my house, drinking tea with Deaclis, the patter of rain on the window panes. Miss taking the train to Lower J. to make baked apples with nachamu and taabraskifloosok. Or riding back home to get baking powder we won't need after all on a strangely warm day in December when we all baked gutsle at Arnymenos' place. I miss giving my first talk in the New Aula, feeling hyper and nervous and great. Eating pretzels at half past ten after talks at the Forum Scientiarum because I won't have time for any other supper. Getting cold hands on a five-minute bike-ride to campus, and never being late. Drawing during class. The challenge of cobblestone and kitten heels combined. Having TaCoS-sessions with no clear aim because it's so long until then. Grabbing free food en masse from the chocolate fair. Still having class in the gigantic lecture hall downstairs. The distinctly snow-free cold clear November air that recalls lantern processions. [I get all the good clean sea air I want here, but it's never cold enough, and when I go up North for skiing the smell of snow effaces anything else] My room, my books, my 50-years-old repurposed winter coat that doesn't keep off the wind. I miss all that, and I miss it at exactly that point in time. If only I could return there - and have everyone else return with me - with all the knowledge and "character-evolvedness" I now have, but without the scars it took to get it, to that point in time before everything got confusing and difficult, and do all the right things from then on. And by doing all the right things I don't mean that which a by-now-really-insignificant Mr. Yearn might wish for. On the contrary. For him I do not miss, surprisingly enough. I miss Ceilidh dancing, yes indeed, and I miss ballroom dancing a bit, that's true, but I don't miss him. For all I care he could go back to being the awkward shadow character he was back then, and stay that way, or never even meet me. I miss autumn, but only as a season and not as a metaphor. It will be summer here for quite some time (I got a light sunburn only yesterday - nothing to worry about, but still!), and even if that's nice it somehow still feels inappropriate. I miss you all. I wish there was a time bubble to go back to whenever we feel like it. And now I'll stop this before I get all blathering and sentimental.

poet

A Pattern

2009-08-31T14:50:00.000-07:00

A week ago I had a friend over in Tübingen, yes, the same friend I'm going to travel to the USA with next week. We spent some nice and relaxed - also creative, but more about that in a later post - days in the heat-wave struck Southwest. One Saturday was especially memorable. Why? Observe.

7:00 AM. The alarm clock rings. Much too early to get up on a Saturday, but we have to. A shower and a cup of Senseo coffee, then we leave the house.

8:03 AM. The closest supermarket has just opened, we go in and buy essentials for the weekend.

8:17 AM. We're back in the flat. 13 minutes till the plumbers come and turn the water off for a couple of hours.

8:30 AM. We flee. A flat without water is not a place to be.

9:17 AM. We order a cup of cream coffee each at the Gehr bakery. Time to sit in the morning breeze and be involved in conversations with weird passers-by, since Hinrichs Teehus doesn't open before...

10:00 AM. We're the first customers. Malik buys a present for his next host (he's travelling to Switzerland before returning to London).

10:09 AM. We made it to the Wilhelmstraße bus stop quickly. At least ten minutes before the bus to Waldenbuch leaves - time to go to the Keim bakery for an extra-expensive Viennese franchise take-away coffee.

10:58 AM. We press our noses against the glass doors of the Museum Ritter. The staff is merciless and chats for full two more minutes before letting us into the François Morellet exhibition.

~~~ The advertent reader will have noticed a certain pattern by now. ~~~

12:25. We leave the exhibition, thrilled. Sure, the beautiful audio guide may have mentioned the word selbstironisch once too often to fully enjoy this feature of Morellet's art, but still. This museum is one of my absolute favorite things in the world. It's all about squares, with exhibition titles like "Neue Positionen zum Quadrat" or "Die Quadratur des Quadrats". And it's run by one of the owners of the Ritter Sport chocolate factory. The first time I was there this video was at the heart of the exhibition:

Make sure to check out David Shrigley's other videos. And then some.

13:51. A bus ride and a train ride later, we're now in Stuttgart, sitting down for a coffee at the MUSE-O café before, at the same place, an exhibition about Gaisburger Marsch opens. Well, that was the plan. Turns out the place is currently closed due to financial chaos. The pattern is ruined. Had we gone one like this, we would have committed some heroic act in super time-lapse that evening. At a place that would have just opened, of course. Instead, we spent the rest of the afternoon in a Chinese restaurant and in the planetarium.

Okay, back to work. Got some term papers to finish before I go on vacation again.

Greetings from the Very North

2009-08-27T07:51:00.000-07:00

So, after a long period of silence we have finally come to a point where we can actually spare a few moments to report on our progress in adapting to the North.
We are currently sitting in a hostel room north of the Polar circle. Right outside our window there's a major lake, a lot of trees, a tiny town and reindeer-inhabited emptiness... We have reached the northernmost point of our journey along the west coast and are going to head back south right through the laky, woody middle of the North tomorrow.

Our little town Kemijärvi has one church, three funeral homes (every second store in the North seems to be a hairdresser or funeral home - more about that later), and a huuuuuge library. This place has 8000 inhabitants but there are 14 books on the history of Africa in the library, language guides for Esperanto and Romani, at least one shelfmeter each on christian dogmatics and ethics, sociology, jurispudence, gender studies, Russian classics in the original ....

Also in other respects, the North has turned out to be very progressive: as we have had to learn the hard way, there are no public telephones and virtually no internet cafés any longer in this country. Why would you need these if everyone has got several mobile phones with which you can have broadband internet everywhere you want, even among the reindeer in the wilderness? Well, if you are a tourist who just arrived in the country a few hours ago and have an urgent need to book accomodations, perhaps. But honestly: who cares?

The North has also embraced progress in other ways:

Don't be misled by the very interesting 1940ies appeal of the package illustration, there does not seem to be much need to give products and brands a modern image here. Progress lurks in the lower left corner, where you can actually see the amount of CO2 produced and the amount of water consumed during production.
By and large, this has turned out to be a really nice country without people feeling any need to be polite, but still reacting to questions and requests in a very reliable and uncomplicated manner.

People's behavior does however vary widely from region to region. In the Real North (the southwestern part) people seem to say nothing but please, thank you and you're welcome, hello and goodbye all day. In the "midwest" most people are grumpy and tonguetied and only the occasional drunkard will brighten your day (or not so much in some cases). Drunken ladies tend to behave like sober ones back home and they feel mightily encouraged by our mediterranean behaviour, i.e. the fact we look at people and possibly even smile at them if they approach us.

In the Northern North Country people become rather more talkative. There seem to be so little of them that train conductors take their time to greet every passenger by their name and to announce "Now I'm going to come and check your tickets. Please get them ready for inspection." via the speakers five minutes prior to the inspection. It feels a bit like going back to our early childhood days in the countryside, when Deutsche Post was still state-owned and everything went slowly and thouroughly. There's always time for a chat and people are generally very laidback and helpful. Old ladies will start talking to you, offer you plums and burp comfortably while telling you everything about their daughter who married a gold miner or a reindeer breeder in the Utmost North.

There are so many tales to tell and so many fun things happening to us here (unless our feet hurt, which happens easily if you try to travel the North by train because the distances between stations and accomodations are so huge all the time)! I have not worked a minute during the last ten days. You might even call this the first real holiday I have had in four years or so. And I am enjoying it.

All right then! Stay tuned for more from us, we will soon report back on the second part of our tour.
nachamu & taabraskifloosok

before I drift into jet lag induced sleep

2009-08-25T20:04:00.000-07:00

Check out your online persona!

I's actually a link I got from my adviser :)

I doesn;t work that well with little information but for her it had plenty of data and portrayed some pretty real trends.

ESSLLI 09, part 2

2009-08-21T10:46:00.000-07:00

I promised to write about the conference and its participants as well, and I put that promise on the procrastination loop. Right now I'd have to think of something more useful to do, and I'm to lazy for that. Therefore, on to part 2: The conference itself.

ESSLLI has a well established procedure both in structuring time and topics. As the name (European Summer School in Logic, Language and Information - I was tempted to mistakingly put the "Language" first) suggests, it is regarded an interdisciplinary conference covering three fields, or to be more precise, their pairwise overlap: Language & Logic, Language & Computation, Logic & Computation. Note that Language is always first here, and that Information is replaced by Computation. Our usual Computational Linguistics mostly belongs into the LaCo field; LaLo would host formal semantics, categorial grammars etc. For some topics it's quite easy to find their field, while others linger somewhere in between. LoCo has seen a rise of several artificial intelligence topics: agent based systems, reasoning strategies, and most recently game theory (a topic my professor has taken an active interest in; as it stands now, he will have a new PhD student working in that area from next semester on; but I'm getting to people only in the third post on ESSLLI).

A balance is sought between the three fields. Besides them, ESSLLI's courses are classified as foundational, introductory, or advanced. You'll only find these in the full course descriptions; the schedule does not give this classification. Courses are the main part of the conference, complemented by workshops, the student session and evening lectures. I will tell you more about all of these.

ESSLLI consists of two structurally parallel weeks. People can easily attend only one week. Each week has four time slots for courses (with coffee and lunch breaks in between), plus one for the student session (within the larger afternoon break). So each course will take place five times, one and a half hours each. Evening lectures are in the evening (who would have thought?), but not every day.

A course is usually held by one or two area experts. They will usually cover their field, and add in their own research where appropriate. If they're famous enough, they will cover their research and add in other people's opinions where harmless. Sometimes, vivid discussion emerge, and that's almost always appreciated. A lecturer would rather cut down on presenting his own research on the last day of the course than cutting people's contributions short; mostly.

Workshops are different, in having several speakers. A workshop is a small conference on a well-defined topic itself. Invited speakers would have about an hour, others half an hour to present their paper. There usually is a concluding session, as the speakers cannot manage their time as freely as the courses' lecturers.

Very much I enjoyed the workshop on sign languages. It was like a conference on linguistics of all sorts, in a time where there were only a hundred linguists in the whole world. Some speakers unravelled a thousand X-bar-projections, Chomskian pre-minimalism-style, others assumed familiarity with Optimality Theory. Some talked about phonology (or rather, its equivalent), others about morphology, syntax, pragmatics: the whole scale. Some talked and were translated, one signed and was translated back. Just watching the interpreter was instructive enough.

The student session has topics as broad as the whole conference. Students (almost exclusively PhD students) present their first results or current research. The student session is usually organized by PhD students or young post docs. There sometimes are poster presentations as well; however, this year there were not enough papers sent in. 15 out of 40 were accepted, so the organizers decided to have everything as a 30 minute presentation.

So how do you decide which courses to take, in practice? There will be about two courses per field in each slot. Quite often, more than one will sound very interesting. Pick your field and be extremely cautious with the others. For me, LoCo always turns out to be incomprehensible. Have a look at the rating (foundational, introductory, advanced). Be prepared for lots of advanced technical details, but also be prepared for more foundationality than expectable. I attended a course on "Computational psycholinguistics" (sounds great, doesn't it?), which was about statistical parsing. Little more than PCFG. But unless you know both the lecturer and his research, I'd still advise you to take the risk that an interesting topic might not exceed what you already know. This happens quite rarely, and much more often you're happy about every overlap to your existing knowledge. In any case, a course will give you new insights; some much more than others. So just apply the general topic filter, and stay with the course you've picked. You can switch during the week, no problem, but it generally leaves you stranded. There is definitely no time to catch up using the course's reader (if there is one). My point of view. I left a lecture which elaborated endlessly on a point which would not have needed a mathematical apparatus that size, and did not promise to give any new insights later on; I tried an easier topic instead on Thursday and found it too boring; I did not know what to do on the last day.

Evening lectures are held by invited speakers. They choose their topic, they pick their level of technicality. If you're lucky, you get a good speaker who knows how to address an interdisciplinary (or even general) audience. If you're not, he or she will tell you all the things because of which he/she is famous and because of which he/she was invited to give this lecture. And by the way, no, I haven't compared my research with other people's work in the last 20 years. I'm a professor, they're not, so it's their job.

This year, I was lucky two times out of four; and I was wise enough to skip one of the times I would not have been lucky. There is no time limit, you know; it's late in the evening, it's hot, the air is stale, the microphone does not work properly.

ESSLLI generally leaves you with a writing block full of interesting ideas, each sheet worth a month of research. By now it's already too late for me to recall all the details of the courses. Four of them a day (you don't want to miss anything), and no time to let the memories settle, leave you with the impression the conference had lasted twice the time. Your last memory before the conference seems ages ago. And then it's back to your everyday research. Which will seem quite uninteresting compared to what you'd like to investigate now.

I feel like I have covered most of the things I wanted to include here, but I'd be happy to elaborate. Just ask me.

Summer Institute, happened so fast...

2009-08-14T21:47:00.000-07:00

... six weeks of work are almost over. Today we disassembled the institute office. I'm still finishing up a last "paper". While my former roommate, a neuroscientist, got to feed rats with ecstasy before cutting their brains into thin slices, I only get to torture cute geometric shapes:

This is one of a series of 12 stimuli to elicit narratives in whatever language one is documenting. I subjected the Fiancé to all of them. The recordings are flawed by me giggling in the background, in a very nachamu-esque way :)... Now I need to finish a paper, in which I will not mention any of the giggling.

Back to work!

~poet

feminism

2009-08-03T08:19:00.000-07:00

The dedicated computer science org on campus for women is quite active in outreach. Actually all of the things we do are outreach save for an annual potluck. I expect that people's reaction to vary from "why do you need a women's org?" to "It's sexist to be allowed to have an exclusivist org for women but not for men". I got the same commentaries regarding MHC so here's my chance to explain but first a bit of history.

CMU is a pioneering school at increasing women participation in cs at an undergraduate level. I found out how that happened in a Computer Science for High School Workshop in short CS4HS. Apparently in the early 90s the undergrad admission committee had a preference for kids with previous programming experience (real geeks with real skilz). Now, in the US this is a problem. First of all, most classes are optional, especially advanced placement classes. So if you would have been given the choice to be stellar at math or average in a cs class what would you pick? Numbers for women in math show more of a gender balance (if there is such a comparative for balance). Secondly there are no cs teachers because let's be honest you are in a much better position working for google with a cs degree. Also, in some states you need to be certified and that takes time and money so again you run off to become a coder for microsoft rather than teach kids. The result is very litte high schools that offer Computer Science classes (which I find really weird because my third world country with no computers was offering computer science in 6th grade).

Regarding admissions at cmu, a bunch of visionary people said "Hey, we don't need code monkeys, we need other visionaries" and they asked the admission committee to admit students with as a diverse and rich background and community involvement as possible. The side effect of this was that in highschool it's mostly girls that do volunteering and join a billion clubs to show they can. Now many of the CMU undergrads (male & female) come with little to no programming experience and really become stars.

Now coming back on track, why would a women org do any good? Well if you've been brought up in a world where there are not a lot of women scientists (and even less female computer scientists) it's hard to see yourself in those shoes. Mostly, I guess we are breaking stereotypes. Some of us wear pink high heels, some of us love to program, some of us are as tomb boy as it gets, some of us play videogames, or are in sororities. Most of us are extremely competent and just needed a chance to take up to cs. Even as a grad student I find it very reassuring to see other women (faculty or postdocs) that have managed to balance a career with family life. I know this one robotics professor that has the most amazing matching sets of accessories ever. And I have to say that her research is really one of the things I'm sure you've all heard (think soccer). My adviser is THE absolute mentor when it comes to women in CS. She's not girly at all and sometimes I feel a little to girly at meetings when I wear skirts But above all she's a great researcher, a leader in her field and honestly I've never heard anyone say anything bad about her research. Yes, she does robotics too. Since I am making adviser references often I think I'll have to come up with a specific acronym just for her.

At CS4HS I talked about how I never felt underprivileged as a women in cs because I grew up in an ex communist country that had no gender roles (ok, no intellectual gender roles) and then at MHC where the universe (or the bubble) was ruled by amazons. Now I do see however that if you know that all computer scientists spend their life behind a computer screen being boring and coding you might not be tempted to take that as a future career. Look at the clip below. Apple shows how cool they are by contrast to the "geek" pc. In most of their ads the women appear as some sort of accessories to take skiing or a at best the hot personal creation. Just take a look at the 3 videos below. Mac and Windows are always guys. I'm glad Linux is chick :) and we all know Linux is better!

In the late 90's as the .com bubble burst cs enrollment dropped considerably. Now there are increasing trends in the numbers of cs majors but mostly for guys. The female number is as low as ever. Why is it important for kids to do cs? Well I'd be happy if they do any hard science and actually get some skills rather than going on wall street and trashing national economies!

Are there any women orgs in your academic environment? Do you think they're useful?

Just one last mention, the org for women here on campus has plenty of guys involved. Guys that support both diversity in computer science and are interested in outreach.

I'll come back to talk about one of our educational outreach programs with Jane's Girls (I modify some of the names) where grad students here at cmu ended up teaching inner city teenagers (all of them labeled girls "at risk) a bit about computer science. Half of the volunteers were guys. They didn't all exactly volunteer but hey once you threaten to cut out movie nights you get at least half a dozen voices pleading to help in any way shape or form. Including volunteering :)

ESSLLI 09, part 1

2009-08-03T00:21:00.000-07:00

I'll put the two weeks in Bordeaux into several posts.

Even the folks who like to describe their movements in terms of matrices, or to reflect their lives' decisions by using game theory, or cannot utter a single sentence without noting the weird syntactic construction being used, or want to dim the big bright lamp in the large blue room, even they like to socialize. Their main problem being being an international "community", meeting costs a lot of money. But there is a solution we Babylonians usually cannot or do not want to afford, called a summer school. Taxpayers are willing to spend considerable amount of money to give researchers a chance to actually meet some people. They're all friends now, in facebook. Yeah!

This year's European Summer School in Language, Logic, and Information took place in Bordeaux, the city which would want to be known for anything else than its wine. Getting there is pretty deterministics, although I know of one person who actually managed to get a train to Nice *not* via Paris, and a plane from there. Paris is an entirely different story. My first time there, and in 4 hours altogether I only saw the Metro and endless tunnels and stairs. How can Paris still be the fastest option, if you loose 2 hours changing trains? For those who did not yet know: Paris has several main stations, connected by the Metro. Each trip took me around 11 hours. Going by plane is not so different. After all, a short-distance plane is not much faster than the TGV.

Bordeaux itself is remarkably clean for a city with otherwise typically southern traits. They have little traffic, and three tram lines, which are fascinatingly modern, but break every day. There's Döner Kebab everywhere (and aparently Germany is the only place in the world where Döner is the short form of this. As if German interpreted the Kebab as postmodification! And not French...), and a few other places to eat. The conference itself did not provide much food, just some tiny croissants, which you should not eat too many of. Last year's ESSLLI featured fresh fruit at all times. However, there's a need to be cheap, because not everyone gets refunded by their university. So they also got us cheap accomodation. Imagine WHO Fichtenweg 1/7/15 before their renovation, and add 10 years of age to all furniture, a more dusty climate, cockroaches, and the aging increasing factor resulting from this by students never living there for more than half a year. Then add one year of uninhabitability. This dorm had actually been closed down, and was just re-opened, because the accomodation the organizers wanted to have was suddenly not available any more.

So far on the general situation. I'll have something to say about the conference and its participants later on.

Things to Do during One's Years of Study in Tübingen (#327)

2009-07-29T08:47:00.000-07:00

Take a bath in the fountains in front of the Neue Aula. ✓

(After yesterday's end-of-semester party.)

A Summer Break Briefing

2009-07-26T03:46:00.000-07:00

The semester has been very interesting and very intense. I'm looking forward to some time off. A grant to apply for, a section for our Word Sense Disambiguation paper to write, a project topic for Recognizing Textual Entertailment to decide on, a department end-of-semester party to co-organize, then it's off to vacation for me. My dad, brother, cousin, and self are going to take on the second approximate eighth of circling Germany by bike, this time taking us from Hamburg to Rügen. So I'm going to be offline for a week starting Thursday, and out of Tübingen for another week, reserved for friends and family in Wuppertal and Düsseldorf, before I come back to entertail myself with aforementioned project (and others). Shortly after A.'s and S.'s wedding, another two weeks' absence will see me travelling to London, then to Pittsburgh with the ungewinster, then to Las Vegas (and finally, step by step, back east again). We're leaving Europe for the first time, with just two destinations, but wisely chosen ones: We're finally going to see auract again, and two Cirque du Soleil shows (one of the ungewinster's top career options). Plus we have free lodging at both places. :-)

Robotization

2009-07-26T01:22:00.000-07:00

For the record: as experience tells, it is not recommendable to acquire the equivalent of half a year of linear algebra within 15 hours on a single day just before the exam. The exam went well, but the procedure has obviously had its costs:

Since yesterday, sometimes if I move I have the intense feeling that I have forgotten something. Introspection tells me I am probably looking for the transformation matrices of my movements, meaning that I somehow have the feeling that I am lost, not knowing where I am, if I do not fully understand my movements. It is not as creepy as it sounds, but I somehow have the feeling that I now know firsthand what a robot must feel like. Speaking of which, during my lesson yesterday my cello teacher constantly encouraged me to bow less hesitantly, which is usually not my problem. Interesting. But manageable as long as I do not feel the urge to find normal forms for my movements. :-)

This morning Nachamu told me I was talking about matrices in my sleep. I hope this wears off with time...

commitments

2009-07-24T11:09:00.000-07:00

There are people that organize and people that let themselves to be organized. I have fallen on this pretty bad path of trying to organize things for everybody. I organize movie nights, dinners, outings, and even dates. What the hell do I get out of it? Well, a whole bunch of dishes to be cleaned, chocolate stains on the floor, some smiles from friends and people I think of as friends but in the end no one gives a damn about these things. A. pointed out that I am not a grad student in sociology to make a living out of studying the effects of wine glass napkins on the perceived quality of the beverage. If I like cooking I should be doing it more on my own anyways and for myself rather than for others.

Don't get me wrong I somewhat like the feeling of being indispensable for others but it's reaching the point where it's affecting my work performance and let me tell you this: My adviser does not care I make sure we have movie nights every week!

The two potential driving forces behind my behavior are: 1. I am feeling lonely and need company (true since A. is not around and I don;t want to be a hermit). 2. I do all these as some sort of confirmation, I need the pat on the back and someone to tell me I'm great (possibly true, but screw this, from now on it's me and my books).

To explain a little bit more what triggered this lamentation:
I try hard to schedule things in accordance to people's schedules and make sure I include the less outspoken people (the new interns in the group, the holidays people take and so on). Others on the other hand don't seem to have the slightest inclination to include my time on their priority list.

No worries, I am working on getting rid of this bad habit of organizing socially entertaining events. I've had enough!

back in Ländle

2009-07-17T11:48:00.000-07:00

Hallo Ihr Lieben,
ich bin seit gestern wieder in Tübingen. Bis zum 21. bin ich noch mit einer Hausarbeit für Portugal 20 Stunden am Tag beschäftigt, aber danach möchte ich alle sehen, die mich sehen wollen! Irgendwann nächste Woche beginne ich auch über Lissabon zu meditieren, und dann gibt es auch einen richtigen langen langweiligen Reisebericht.

Und ich bin auf Zimmersuche. Also, wenn jemand mit mir zusammenziehen möchte, ist es die Chance! ;)

Present, Future and Books

2009-07-15T14:52:00.000-07:00

The cat is finally here.

Pfingsten is too far in the past, though it seems that they had fun up there in Northern Germany. I had a shock though, because nobody ever tells me anything and when one day they left the flat with big bags and didn't come back in the evening I felt very restless. Bruce came instead, and while he is an old friend of mine, it wasn't the same... Well, at least it was much easier to get food from him than from K - in a week I had as much as I usually get in three :)

Approximately around the same time K rediscovered what a book is. You see, during the 3 years of her studies in the Russian University, she had books all over the place, and none of them were interesting and most of them were old and outdated. And there were so many of them, greasy, shabby, with torn pages and underlined words and scribbles, that very soon K developed a sort of allergy to the item itself. Very quickly she adapted to reading from screen and until recently she would mostly do so.

Unfortunately, not every book can be found on-line and even less of them - for free. And there were some works she really wanted to read for various reasons. So far there are only 4 items on her "fresh kill" list, with only one of them in German - Die Unendliche Geschichte and only one finished - Thomas the Rhymer by Ellen Kushner. Then there is also a book about Nikola Tesla, which N gave her for birthday and another book by Kushner - The Fall of the Kings. The latter is very... spicy... and engulfing. Just like Thomas the Rhymer, the language of the book is beautiful and the plot grabs your attention and holds it. I'm not very good in describing human-written books, but the fact that she reads it whenever she can - during her meals, in buses, at bus stops, while walking - speaks in favour of the book. Or may be she is just damn hungry for "reading for fun".

Actually, life has been generous with distractions from university lately - after a beautiful conference-seminar in May, K has been working on a funny project. There is not so much to tell about it yet, but again - she is devoting every minute she can to it.

N is pretty busy out as well - he is working double time so that to have enough time and money to go to Oxford for a 3 months intern. Neither me nor K have a slightest idea how we are going to survive the 3 months - August, September and October - without N. But Oxford is grand and it's not like we will be all alone here, for K's sister comes for visit. She will stay in Germany for the August and then all the three of us will travel to Russia, where K and me will spend another two weeks or so. Oh well, that only covers about 6 weeks, but it's better that nothing.

Oh, my whiskers are getting sleepy. Goodnight to all the Tower Dwellers!

P.S.: They got a new camera, and guess who is being the paparazzo victim? Some pics are here

Summertime, and the living is... busy!

2009-07-14T19:23:00.000-07:00

Today I was in the process of making minestrone-ish soup. I debated with myself whether to put in an extra onion, and in doing so, opened the cupboard where we keep our onions and garlic in an old cookie tin lid. Some of them had sprouted but I didn't think much of it - we've previously used sprouted onion green in our salad - until I lifted one of them.

Things that I now know:

The antibacterial effect of garlic is not transmitted by touch.
The smell of decomposing onion is the first one that has inspired in me an urge to vomit. I didn't, but ugh! it's absolutely disgusting.
Californian fruit flies are twice as big as German fruit flies. (Being a brave girl, I killed them anyway. This last sentence being entirely for the benefit of the Niedlichkeitsfraktion.)

Not to give any false impressions, our little apartment is actually in quite a good overall state, and daily improving. We were thinking about moving closer to campus for a while this summer, but when we had inspected the 20th apartment we found that none of them was better than ours - especially with respect to air conditioning, parking, and newness. We then decided that we would stay here but make everything more cozy. We've put a mirror on our terrace to direct in more light, and we now have a big splotch of sunlight on our kitchen ceiling for about three hours every afternoon - yay! We're thinking of putting up a convex mirror to get even more sunlight. We have also bought a bit more furniture, some from a moving sale (where we also got tennis rackets, a framed picture of tea fields, crystal glasses and bowls, a blender, and several other things), and we are planning a major trip to Ikea to get, among other things, some boxes to store our cable clutter in.

Further, the Fiancé is very busy with research, sailing, and playing squash, and I am very busy volunteering and attending classes at the LSA Summer Institute and reading through a pile of books on language, cognition and politics by Guess-Who. I've had a flash of sewing activity earlier, and my preferred method of procrastination is still reading blogs, but actually I am doing serious work most of the time...

Mhm... most of you guys should be writing exams or papers right now... good luck! And have a happy summer! Oh, by the way, one reason for not closing this down is that I want to hear all about The North starting from August!

Greetings,

poet

just saying

2009-07-08T17:01:00.001-07:00

It seems things are winding down around here so maybe it's time to move on and close the blog. Keep what was here already and call it a day (or a year). Comments?

Still alive

2009-06-22T07:20:00.001-07:00

Hi Leute!
Ich weiß, ich hab mich viel zu ewig nicht mehr gemeldet... Sorry. Die gute Nachricht ist, dass ich nicht vor Stress nicht antworte, sondern weil hier so viel Spannendes los ist! Ein paar Sachen habe ich jetzt mal aufgeschrieben. Bitte sehr. : )

Es regnet. Endlich.
Seit etwa zwei Wochen ist offiziell Regenzeit und noch nie war es so trocken und sonnig. Naja, trocken ist vielleicht etwas zuviel gesagt. Die Luftfeuchtigkeit ist auch so beachtlich. Man steigt morgens aus der Dusche und ist zwei Minuten später schon wieder verschwitzt. Leider kühlt auch der Regen die Luft nicht wirklich ab. Heute morgen um fünf hat mich ein Hitzegewitter geweckt. Nach einem kurzen Gang ins Bad ueberlegte ich, ob ich lieber mein Nachthemd oder meinen Bettbezug oder vielleicht keins von beidem fuer die uebrigen drei Stunden als Erkältungsblock riskieren soll. Alles klebt. Letztendlich behielt ich das Nachthemd an und schlief wider Erwarten kurz darauf erneut tief und fest.
Morgens dann der Weg zur Arbeit. Der Regen hatte kurzzeitig aufgehoert und nur auf den letzten paar Metern wurde ich noch etwas nass. Unterwegs bei grauem Himmel erinnerte ich mich daran, wie ich Freitag von der Arbeit nach Hause raste...

Die schreckliche M-san

Seit einer Woche haben wir zwei neue Praktikanten, einen Kanadier, P., und eine Japanerin, O-san. O-san studiert in Osaka und kommt nur einmal die Woche vorbei; P. dagegen wohnt nun auch in Nara, in der Nähe meiner Wohnung. - Allerdings nicht so nahe wie der Aachener, der seit zwei Wochen in der Gruppe ein Stockwerk unter uns arbeitet. Der *wohnt* ebenfalls ein Stockwerk unter meinem. Letztens habe ich seine russische Freundin kennengelernt und musste mit Schrecken feststellen, dass bei jedem Versuch, Russisch zu reden, nur Japanisch herauskam... Das altbekannte Problem.
Freitag war die Willkommensfeier fuer O-san und P.
Ich esse mittags meistens zusammen mit dem Großteil der Gruppe in der Mensa, doch diesen Montag hatte ich mir Nudeln mitgebracht, die ich in der Mikrowelle unserer Tee-Ecke aufwärmte. Damit setzte ich mich zu der kleinen Gruppe - durchweg weiblich-, die meist nicht in die Mensa geht, sondern bei uns unten ihr Bento zu Mittag isst.
O-san und ihre Betreuerin M-san waren auch dabei. Nach einer Weile gut verfolgbaren Gesprächs verlor ich irgendwann den Faden. Als auf einmal alle laut zu lachen anfingen und O-san sehr belämmert lächelte, fragte ich doch mal nach, worum es gerade ging.
Stellt sich heraus, M-san hat O-san in einer Mail geschrieben, dass sie bei der Willkommensfeier irgendeinen Trick, irgendetwas Unterhaltsames vorführen müsste; sie zum Beispiel habe damals einen Ballon mit der Nase aufgeblasen. O-san war sehr geschockt, als sie nun erfuhr, dass das bloß ein Witz gewesen war. Sie hatte sich bereits mit der Nase durch sämtliche zu Hause verfuegbaren Blasinstrumente durchgespielt und war nur noch am überlegen, welches sie wohl mitnehmen sollte...
Freitag abend gegen sechs versammelte sich alles zur gemeinsamen Bus- und Zugfahrt nach Nara, mit ein paar Ausnahmen - alle, die frueher heimgingen, mit dem Auto hinfahren wollten oder sonstwie verhindert waren. Da gehörte nun auch ich dazu. Das Restaurant war laut Internetkarte ganz nahe bei meiner Wohnung, und üblicherweise fahre ich Freitags immer mit dem Rad bis nach Hause. Um sieben sollte das Treffen beginnen, ich hatte also eine Stunde.
An müden Montagen oder bummeligen Freitagen brauche ich schon mal eine ganze Stunde für den Weg. Aber nun hatte mich der Ehrgeiz gepackt - langsamer als die anderen mit Bus und Bahn war ich doch wohl nicht! Außerdem wäre es schon nett, vor dem Essen kurz zu duschen und sich umzuziehen...
Mittlerweile habe ich mich mit dem chaotischen Naraer Verkehr recht gut arrangiert. Mit Helm fühle ich mich ein wenig sicherer, und mir graust es davor, mich in Deutschland in nicht mal vier Monaten wieder an alle Regeln halten zu müssen.
Erst langsam, dem Quaken der Frösche auf den Reisfeldern lauschend, dann immer schneller lasse ich die kleine Entwicklungssiedlung mit ihren vielen Research-Firmenzweigen hinter mir. Zu "La jumeau de Micheau" geht es den Berg hinunter, vorbei an dem ungenießbaren Wildkirschenbaum und dem kleinen Feld, wo die Alten am Montag morgen immer Croquet spielen. Dann schnaufe ich den nächsten Berg hinauf - die einzige größere Steigung auf meinem endlich perfektionierten Weg ist bezwungen.
Später mühe ich mich aber doch noch einmal einen Berg hinauf: drei Ampeln umgehen zum Preis eines Hügels, das rechnet sich nicht; aber der Austausch 'ätzende große Straße' gegen 'kleine Hintergässchen' macht es lohnenswert. An den Steingärten vorbei zum Tempel fahre ich langsamer, schnuppere die kühle Luft am Seerosenteich und schaue den Schildkröten beim Vorbeipaddeln zu.
Dann Hand an die Bremse und einen Stöpsel aus dem Ohr: es geht bergab, wieder durch winzige Gässchen und deren verkehrsunbewusste Bewohner.
Über die Felder des ehemaligen Kaiserpalasts fliege ich, lauthals irgendeinen Text von Blackmore's Night mitsingend. Hier ist gerade kaum jemand unterwegs, der Weg gehört mir.
Dann wieder Straße, fliegender Wechsel von Gehweg zu Straßenrand, je nach Verkehr und Stand der Ampeln. Es macht Spaß, ausnahmsweise mal schneller zu sein als die Autos. Zwei Kreuzungen von meiner Straße entfernt stehe ich wie immer eine kleine Ewigkeit an der Ampel. Sehr passend plärren mit Leningrad soeben "Come on everybody! Двиги жопы, суки, бляды!" ins Ohr - "Bewegt euch, ihr ..." - das übersetze ich vielleicht besser doch nicht.
Und endlich bin ich zu Hause. Ein Blick auf die Uhr: 18:45. Etwa 35 Minuten. So schnell war ich noch nie!
Stolz wie Oskar stapfe ich in den fünften Stock, schmeiße meine Kleider vom Leib und krabble in die winzige Dusche.
Auf dem Weg zum Restaurant verlaufe ich mich ein, zwei Mal; kurz nach sieben komme ich an - nur fünf Minuten nach der Hauptgruppe, die sich wohl noch ein paarmal mehr verlaufen hat. Japanische Karten und Wegbeschreibungen sind selbst für Japaner nicht zwangsläufig klar verständlich.
...Wie immer ist das Essen gut und reichlich und ich kann nur etwa die Hälfte der Speisen erkennen, geschweige denn mit Namen versehen. Lustigerweise gibt es hier "Traubenmost" (in Katakana tatsächlich wie im Deutschen geschrieben), was sich allerdings als alkoholfreier Traubensaft herausstellt. Aber: aus Österreich. Ganz hin und weg bin ich, als ich einen weiteren Punkt auf der Karte als "Holunderblütensirup-Saft" entziffere. Auch aus Österreich. Holunder gibt es hier soweit ich weiß gar nicht. Y-san neben mir studiert die Karte: "Das soll wie Lychees schmecken", liest sie etwas zweifelnd. Jetzt bin ich wirklich baff. Das war nämlich immer mein Eindruck, aber zugestimmt hat mir dann doch nie jemand.
Irgendwann geht der Abend seinem Ende zu und es ist Zeit fuer einige kurze Ansprachen. Als das Wort an O-san übergeht, erzählt sie grinsend von M-sans fiesem Scherz, woraufhin es rundum "Ｆさんはこわい！”　heißt - "M-san ist beängstigend!" Und während sich noch alle über M-san, die Schreckliche, amüsieren, packt O-san in aller Seelenruhe eine Melodica aus. "Wo ich schon extra geübt habe..."
Und spielt tatsächlich mit der Nase ein Lied.
O-san, die Heldin des Tages.

Glühwürmchen-Pilgerfahrt

Am Wochenende war ich zum zweiten Mal mit Entchen beim Zweithaus ihrer Bekannten in den Hügeln (Berge wäre dann doch etwas zuviel gesagt, auch wenn es im Japanischen beides 'yama' (山)　heißt). Wieder gab es viel zu viel superleckeres Essen und im Gegensatz zum vorigen Besuch musste sich diesmal kaum jemand verrenken, um mich in die Unterhaltung miteinzubeziehen.. Gut, viele Feinheiten oder auch mal ganze Gesprächsthemen entgingen mir komplett, aber bei einfachen Themen kann ich mittlerweile doch mitreden, ohne jedes zweite Wort nachzuschlagen. Was mich unglücklicherweise befähigte, mich zum Thema 'Japan und Umweltbewusstsein' zu äussern. Naja, sie haben's mir vergeben.
Dort oben an der Grenze zwischen den Präfekturen Nara und Mie war es abends erstaunlich frisch. Meine *sehr* kurze Hose war mir bald ein wenig zu kühl (Wintermode; jetzt im Sommer trägt man lange ärmel und lange Hosenbeine, um keine hässliche Bräunung der Haut zu erleiden - aber so weit kann ich mich dann bei der Hitze doch nicht anpassen. Noch dazu wo ich *mal* eine gute Chance habe, knusprig braun zu werden!)
Mit langen Strümpfen aus einem der unzähligen Strumpfläden in Nara und Langärmelhemd ist es mir bald wieder warm genug, doch werden diese später am Abend einem Kleidungswechsel zur Feier des Tages geopfert: Entchen und ich hüllen uns in Yukata, leichte Baumwoll-...nennen wir sie Kimonos. Sie sehen ähnlich aus. Der zugehörige Gürtel (Obi) ist allerdings schmaler und leichter zu binden.
Nach drei Stunden Obi-Training bei Y-sans Mutter und Oma sollte mir ein Yukata-Obi nun eigentlich nicht schwerfallen, aber am Ende lasse ich mir doch helfen. übung macht den Meister, und da hapert's bei mir noch etwas.
Der Yukata, so leicht er auch sein mag, ist ob seiner Länge und dank des Obis ein wenig wärmer als meine vorige Kleidung. Genau richtig, um damit am Fluss entlangzugehen.
Denn hier gibt es Glühwürmchen.
Nach etwa zehn Minuten Autofahrt parken wir zwischen mehreren Autos am Straßenrand und stellen und zu den anderen spätabendlichen Glühwürmchenpilgern.
Früher hat man in Japan Glühwürmchen eingefangen, um bei ihrem Licht spätabends zu lesen. Der japanische Text zu 'Auld Lang Syne' heißt 'Licht der Glühwürmchen und erzählt davon, wie man nach langen Jahren des Lernens bei Glühwürmchenlicht und Schneereflektion nun endlich auseinandergeht. Es wird traditionell beim Schulabschluss gespielt.
Doch heute fängt kaum noch jemand Glühwürmchen. Allein um ihre Schönheit zu bewundern fährt man hinaus ins absolute 'Inaka', aufs Land.
Dort, über dem Wasser, in den Büschen und bis hinauf in die Wipfel der Nadelbäume tanzen die &Gluehwürmchen. Hotaru. Kleine leuchtende Punkte, die in kurzen Abständen verlöschen und wieder neu aufglühen.
Die Männchen werben um eine Partnerin.
Fern zirpen die Grillen, ein Frosch quakt sehr beharrlich und hin und wieder schreit eine Fledermaus. Die Wolkendecke über uns reißt ein wenig auf und ein paar Sterne leuchten herab.
Weißt du, wieviel Sternlein stehen...
Ich schaue von den Glühwürmchen zu den Sternen und denke mir, dass beides zu schön ist, um Zeit mit dem Zählen zu verschwenden. Es ist so idyllisch hier.
Wäre da nicht...
Brrrrrm. Ein gleißendes Licht erstrahlt zu meiner Rechten. Ergeben schließe ich das rechte Auge, warte, bis das Auto hinter mir vorbei ist, öffne das rechte und schließe das linke Auge. Ein paar Sekunden kann ich wieder die Natur um mich genießen, dann kommen von links zwei weitere Autos.
Und so geht es immer fort.
Auch wir fahren irgendwann weiter den Fluss entlang und blenden die übrigen Glühwürmchenanbeter, auf der Suche nach einer 'besseren' Stelle. So macht jeder dem Anderen das Leben schwer, ohne sich Böses dabei zu denken.
Nur den Glühwürmchen ist der ganze Trubel egal. Die tanzen fröhlich weiter werbend und lockend durch die Nacht...

La mode est plus forte que l'amour

Traurige Gestalten, für die dieser Spruch wahr ist. Gut, dass ihn niemand versteht.
Im Westen sind T-shirts mit asiatischen Schriftzeichen 'cool', auch wenn man nicht weiß, ob die Zeichen japanisch, chinesisch oder vielleicht taiwanesisches Mandarin sind. Oft steht lediglich "Sojasoße" drauf - aber es ist cool.
Ebenso werden hier in Japan westliche Sprachen gehandhabt. "Hey, das ist Französisch, und da steht was von Liebe. Das ist totaaal stylisch!" Wobei es natürlich mehr darauf ankommt, den richtigen Markennamen am Saum stehen zu haben, denn auf das Kleidungsstück an sich.
Wenn man nicht wirklich weiß, was man da eigentlich so an sich herumträgt, kann es schon mal zu interessanten Fashion Statements kommen. So las ich letztens im Sockenladen auf einem BH "You may be able to encounter nice old streets and towns". Auf einer Sockenpackung stand "Pro-Vanilla", eine andere hatte einen Schriftzug, der zwar aus lauter englischen Wörtern bestand, auf englisch jedoch jeglichen Sinnes entbehrte. Ein teurer Modeladen gegenüber meiner Wohnung heißt "Helden". Ich rätsele immer noch, ob das wohl Deutsch ist oder ein nordischer Eigenname.
Und dann wären da natürlich noch die Dos and Don't für Ausländer.
Japanische Frauen laufen teilweise mit etwa gürtelbreiten Röcken oder Höschen herum, dazu Absatzschuhe, die sie beinahe auf die Zehenspitzen zwingen; Netzstrumpfhose und verführerisches Makeup.
Das ist normal.
Als ich aber einmal im seitlich bis knapp übers Knie geschlitztem Jeansrock zur Arbeit kam - die japanische Mitpraktikantin hielt sich auch hier nicht mit Miniröckchen und gothic-Stiefeln zurück -, hieß es von den Kolleginnen auf einmal: "Uuuh, sexy!"
Damals hielt ich das für ein Kompliment.
Am Wochenende aber verrutschte mir eine Falte meines Yukatas, sodass ein kurzer Blick auf meinen Unterschenkel frei wurde. "Sexy!", warnte F-san. "You say it like it's a bad thing", schoss es mir durch den Kopf. Das Grinsen verging mir, als ich sah, wie F-san mit mit einer Bewegung bedeutete, ich solle die Kleidung ganz schnell zurechtrücken. Sexy really is a bad thing.
E. hat es vor ein paar Tagen sehr nett formuliert: "Als ich hier ankam, war ich für russische Verhältnisse sehr brav und anständig gekleidet, und trotzdem schauten mir die alten Männer alle nach. Die Japanerinnen versuchen mit ihrer Kleidung aufzufallen, aber als Westler bekommt man auch so schon mehr Aufmerksamkeit, als einem lieb ist, und muss sich anstrengen, nicht aufzufallen."
Sexy = versagt.
Hm.
Ich denke mir, wenn ich so oder so auffalle, dann brauche ich mich nicht verrеnken. "Auf einen hervorstehenden Nagel haut man drauf" - schön und gut, aber ich bin nicht wirklich Teil der japanischen Gesellschaft; muss ich mich da wirklich 100% anpassen? Nara ist ein verschlafenes kleines Städtchen, das Schlimmste, was mir hier passieren wird, ist vom Reh überrannt zu werden. Also werde ich weiterhin meine unstylisch langen Röcke tragen, und meine 'sexy' ärmellosen Hemden.
Und vielleicht doch auch mal was Kürzeres...

sunny sunny canada - notes from the road

2009-06-17T09:32:00.001-07:00

- Houses have fences
- Conference was cool
- Vancouver was warm and mountainy and full of people
- The sushi was particularly cheap and well done
- Granville Island (not really an island) was full of lovely kitschy stores and farmer markets
- I wish there weren't that many cars
- The air smelled like sea and pot and pines
- We bumped into a crowd of nudist bicyclist
- It was good to see an old friend :)

stuff..

2009-06-03T08:03:00.000-07:00

...stuff mostly about the trip to new york.

Yes, I'm one of those poor saps that fell for the city and glamorous life, and the parks, and the street vendors that show up at 10pm to stay for the night of partying and offer comfort food to intoxicated and exhausted souls. I fell in love with people on the streets, and the reading room in Bryant park where once again I read half of Persepolis volume II. I fell in love with walking on the streets at 6 am and grabbing a bagel in queens with tens of others (of course this occurrence was mostly due to jet lag). My friend's apartment has filtered light and fire exit stairs where fat orange cats stare at you at noon. we went for dim sum before I left without knowing more than two of the things we ate (sesame buns was definitely one of them).

...and we went to roosevelt island, to see the other side of ny where as the old lady told us"you can have a garden 5 minutes away from manhattan and grow parsley there too".

walking towards the old abandoned smallpox hospital (or chicken pox or other infectious pox), which then became a mental institution and has since relinquished it's status and is more known as the ruins of a castle, we saw a cloud of dust, and after the cloud people, tens and hundreds of people, and then hammers, plastic ones, (and no, the bagel I ate for breakfast was not covered in opiate poppy seeds). and the people came towards us and we pushed our way through and we found them everywhere, improv everywhere.

Back again

2009-06-03T06:48:00.000-07:00

Dear fellow Babylonians,
I just realized that I haven't posted in over a month...
I'm trying to be a good girl right now and to finish some of my many essays due last Christmas or so... So this post will be a short one, but I'd like to give you an update on what's been going on and to say that I'm back to normal communication again. I've been very shy for a few weeks, but according to taabraskifloosok I am now back to my old self and pretty much over everything.
I survived the stay with my family, the announcement in church, the actual burial and all the hugs and condolences that necessarily go with it. I was sad, silent and clad in black for a few weeks thereafter. But at least since the Kirchentag I feel back to normal. And I am now officially accepted for exchange with the university of H. .
So I suppose I'll be posting again soon (there are more adventures in education waiting to be told as well as some gruesome details from a month ago...). Thank you all for not asking me anything and letting me find my way back on my own!

chickens and feathers

2009-05-25T07:10:00.000-07:00

I have a bunch of comics I check regularly and one is actually from Ro about two evil pidgins trying to take over the world. In many ways a modern take on Pinky and the Brain with Fredo ( the brain) being the fattie, sexually irresistible and terribly selfish one while Pid'jin is the truly evil and naive (pointy too other dude).
they're very much politically incorrect and you should check the other episodes about how colonels are controlling everybody. I thought bad puns occur mostly in cs departments but I guess I'm wrong.

I made myself earrings with the two birds (they look a lot like the fridge magnets) but I think I left them home so now way I can post pictures of those now.

Anyways, this was an advertisement post so that I can get the free tshirt :D

Happy Birthday, auract!

2009-05-16T01:05:00.000-07:00

I'd have baked you a birthday robot, but since you're not here, a picture would have had to do anyway. So I took Qfamily's. :D Joyous celebrations, I wish!

Let's fly

2009-05-13T11:34:00.000-07:00

The books or movies we like most are the ones in which we can identify with at least a view point. You understand more of the pain/joy/sadness/love. It's normal.

What's not normal is watching "One flew over the cuckoo's nest" and finding uncanny similarities to grad school. Social awkwardness, and nervous laughs, the guy with the weird hair, the "let's escape to town" that looks too much like a conference. Even the buildings look the same. We had a good time though since we had a chocolate fountain and it was A.'s bday.

Coming back to the movie I wonder if the analogy of OFOCN to grad school also means that getting a frontal lobe lobotomy is equivalent to dropping out for a startup?

ok, my plane is taking off soon

Invitations

2009-05-12T09:10:00.000-07:00

The last week S. and I have been very busy ...ing the best invitation cards ever. Even Leo can't translate "basteln", at least I cannot accept its translations. It's such a natural concept to me, having spent many happy childhood hours with this occupation, and I haven't the faintest idea how to say it in English. Suggestions?

Some of you already hold one in their hands, some will, some maybe will. Maybe, because we're saving a very few of them, and won't give them away to people who can't come anyway :P

And if you don't know what this is about, you don't need to know.

"Everyone in Babylonia is using them."

2009-05-06T14:56:00.001-07:00

My phonology professor pleasantly surprised us today by handing out copies of this:

The Rise of Optimality Theory in First Century Palestine

Also, my statistics professor, who is from Germany, used the following nonce borrowing:

"... and then I had an aha-moment and realized that... (something about mixed-effects models)"

Classes end this week, paper writing is only starting, and I am already jetlagged. Well, at least I get to do stuff about Shakespeare.

Poppyseed cookie recipe (yes, more cookies)

2009-05-03T12:39:00.000-07:00

I "invented" this yesterday, based on this recipe here. Hope someone enjoys this.

Poppyseed cookies:

1/2 cup olive oil (what else?)

1 1/2 cup cane sugar

1/2 cup poppy seeds

4 cups flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 portion = roughly 1 cup sheep yoghurt (replace with soy yoghurt if wanted)

about 1 1/2 cup mango ice cream (or some kind of fruit sauce)

... und keine Eier!

How to proceed:

Preheat oven to 350 F or 180 C.

Mix sugar and oil.

Add yoghurt, then poppy seeds.

Add 3 cups of the flour and the baking powder.

Mix thoroughly.

Realize that the dough is too moist.

Add the fourth cup of flour.

Mix thoroughly.

Realize that the dough is now too dry.

Rummage fridge and freezer for something to add.

Find mango ice cream and microwave about 1 1/2 cups of it for 1 minute.

Add mango ice cream.

Stir.

Now it's fine!

Drop tablespoon-sized dough heaps on a baking tray (or better two of them) and bake for about 20 minutes.

The cookies were eaten by a bunch of Berkeleyan intellectuals at a party while sitting on the floor and discussing the effect of space cookies. (No, Adimit, I didn't. )

A la veille du premier mai

2009-05-01T13:30:00.000-07:00

It was yesterday that all Babylonians currently in Tübingen (Musipher represented by K.) were finally in one room to appreciate poet's Easter goodies.

Lo and behold Arnymenos, reading the card with the voices of Kermit (to resist the temptation of reading it in a way that suggests double entendres) and Cookie Monster (switched to it at "sehr leckere - KEKSE").

Thanks a bunch, poet! Since my evil plan to ask for contributions to the buffet instead of birthday presents worked out a little too well, we had too much food to try the cookies, but we'll do that as soon as the next opportunity arises. And your comics are great! You should totally start a web comic!

Further conversation topics that arose: strengthening verbs, the mind-blowing stair lift on Haußerstraße, the Koran, and much more.

More photos on Flickr.

Happy Bday Ke and Ka!

2009-04-30T17:04:00.000-07:00

I imagined we might need a way to collect all the bday wishes :)

shiny

2009-04-27T11:30:00.000-07:00

Got together a bunch of pictures from my last semester here.

From glass

Take a look and enjoy, we surely did!

My father is dead

2009-04-24T13:36:00.001-07:00

He died yesterday morning. At home. Just fell asleep and never woke up. At age 55. I'm there now with my mother and brother. Taabraskifloosok is looking after me.
Please don't pay me condolences or anything... There's nothing to say that could change it anyhow and it's very weird. Please just wait till I start talking about it myself.
Btw: Poet, thank you so much for your letter. I enjoyed reading it just a few minutes ago. Please don't feel weird about it now.

We are coming to visit!

2009-04-24T09:30:00.000-07:00

We booked our flight two days ago. We will arrive on May 27 and stay till June 14. We had planned to come to Southern Germany and thus to Tübingen in the first week of June.

Now that week is also the week of Pentecost holidays.

Will you guys be around?

What date would be best?

Somewhere in the middle of the week would work best for us...

EDIT: It looks like we might be coming the week after that instead.

What makes me glad...

2009-04-19T23:47:00.000-07:00

(in order to be fair and not give an overly negative impression of my life :)

... is having all the grocery shopping and weekly cleaning done and sitting in a rocking chair on the patio on this incredibly warm and sunny Californian afternoon, making a handout for a presentation on a cognitive linguistics paper on Emily Dickinson's poetry while eating raspberry and chocolate sorbet. Later, watching the sunset and putting out the paper lamp from the living room as it gets really dark and frogs start to squawk and crickets to fiddle and the air starts smelling of seaweed because the wind has changed direction. Just to be fair: life can be generous and friendly even to a poor grad student couple at times.

Also, be sure to watch the movie Coraline if you haven't already done so. Lovely, charming, imaginative, sufficiently scary and serious to be liked by those who attended our movie nights back in the old days... Think Ghibli studios meets Chicken Run meets Amelie meets Alice in Wonderland meets... The soundtrack is also beautiful, perhaps apart from one or two sorta silly pieces (it's officially a children's movie after all). The Fiance had the presence of mind to get it for me today after we had watched the movie last night.

Yakushinji

2009-04-19T05:03:00.000-07:00

Hi ihrs!

Drücke mich vor den Japanischhausaufgaben und weil ich sowieso grade die Fotos übertragen habe dachte ich mir, ich geb euch ein paar davon ab. Heute war ich beim Yakushinji ("ji" (寺) heißt Tempel), mit dem Fahrrad etwa 30 min. südlich von Nara.

Übrigens, kurz am Rande - ich wundere mich schon seit ich hier bin, wieviele alte Leute hier mit dem Rücken waagerecht zum Boden laufen, und wie viele auch junge Leute X- oder O-Beine haben. Meine Lehrerin meinte dazu letzte Woche: Japans Boden ist extrem Calcium-arm. Milch ist in der normalen Ernährung quasi nicht enthalten. Daher die Mangelerscheinungen.
Na so was. Da heißt es immer, japanische Küche ist so gesund... Ist sie zwar auch, aber Kalkmangel ist nichts schönes. :(
Was auch irgendwie häufiger scheint (oder kommt mir das jetzt nur so vor?) sind richtig hässliche Hautprobleme (Flechten?) an Händen etc. Meine Lehrerin hat eine, aber ich trau' mich nicht, sie drauf anzusprechen. Wäre glaube ich doch irgendwie unhöflich.
Ach, und habe ich schon erzählt? Montags gehe ich jetzt zum Volleyball. ;D Morgen kann ja mal wieder lustig werden, hab' ja jetzt schon Muskelkater. Was aber einen angenehmen Grund hat: Nara hat kein Nachtleben, aber gestern gab's *ausnahmsweise* mal im 'Rumours' drei DJs, tanzbare Musik (naja, großenteils HipHop, aber zum Tanzen gibt es weiß Gott schlimmeres) und Leute, die sich zu der Musik *bewegt* haben. Schön. ^^
So, jetzt wohl besser endlich an die Hausaufgaben...
Grüß euch alle,
Aditu

What makes me sad...

2009-04-16T22:21:00.000-07:00

... and not sweetly sad, either, just plain plump selfishly sad, is listening to the Carmina Burana on a blustery spring evening while looking at random blogs by people who are actually out there creating art, designing or even just collecting and beautifully photographing jewelry or fashion, writing "inspired", probably pretty shallow stuff into beautiful notebooks with paper as delicate as a pocket Bible... And here I sit, at my untidy desk, behind my back my untidy kitchen, and avoid doing homework by pitying myself for not doing anything notable. Not even baking bread, or cookies. Just a soup that me and the Fiance created for dinner, which was very tasty but is also the reason for the kitchen being untidy, and therefore nothing to be proud of via taking a picture. I should be writing one of my many letters. Or drawing one of my many pre-imagined works of art. But it is April, and I have papers to write.

19th century = prude?

2009-04-13T20:28:00.000-07:00

(Silly thoughts on unintended - or intended? - mercutioesqueness in 19th-century literature. I hope this doesn't classify as adult content :) - if so, feel free to delete!)

So I am supposed to compile a text corpus from the Bronte sisters' books in order to investigate epistemic usage of "will". And I stumble upon this:

"The sleepers were all aroused: ejaculations, terrified murmurs sounded in every room; door after door unclosed; one looked out and another looked out; the gallery filled."

(Jane Eyre)

"It struck me directly she must have started for Penistone Crags. 'What will become of her?' I ejaculated, pushing through a gap which the man was repairing, and making straight to the high-road. "

(Wuthering Heights)

... that's what they said. Is it just me? I mean, I know that "ejaculate" was being used as a normal verb to describe a manner of speaking at that time, but... in the direct context of "aroused", a place called "Penistone Crags" and the phrase "pushing through a gap"? They can't have been that innocent, or could they?

My Daily Hunt

2009-04-12T14:50:00.000-07:00

Follow her into the kitchen. Sit down on the little mat in front on the kitty dishes. Empty kitty dishes.

Big eyes, straight gaze.

- Miao! (short, middle-level pitched, very polite.. yet)
- Мусик... что тебе?

Stupid woman, I made it so clear. Close my eyes, turn away, turn back to her, eyes half closed, very sad.

- Myaaaau.. (louder, high-pitched, almost pleading)
- Опять? ты два часа назад поел!

Arrrgh, same story again? Eyes wide open, glaring at this obnoxious biped. Show her my teeth.

-MIAOOO! (loud, low-pitched, daring)
- Нет! Рано еще, даже не проси.
- Miaoo MAAAIU!!!

Don't you have any pity woman? Or even fear? Frown, lay down on the mat. Don't give up, her laptop is on the desk, the editor open, all vulnerable to kitty paws... pressing Del... I give you one last chance, lady.

- Miaiaoiaoiaooo (low, desperate and threatening)
- Ну что с тобой делать? На, еш, чудо ты мое...

Mmm, yummy =^^=

Nice (egg) hunt to you too, oh Babylonians!

Happy Easter!

2009-04-12T13:10:00.000-07:00

Dear fellow Babylonians,

though a bit belated in your time zone, I wish you all a happy Easter (replace for your convenience with whatever applies for Buddhism, or atheism :)! I have, again, been inexcusably lazy in that I haven't sent any individual Easter cards to you, but I have prepared a parcel full of goodies for the whole crew and sent it on its way to t's and nachamu's place, which I kind of think of as our headquarters from back in the old days... It should arrive within the next two weeks unless someone at the customs munches on those goodies first. Hope you enjoy the goodies and the inspiration that comes with them (this being directed at n. primarily :). Aditu, fear not, I have not forgotten you in Japan either...

Yesterday, me and the Fiance went sailing. While he has some considerable experience from his time further down south the coast, this was my second lesson only , the first one having been last Saturday, and I was still very much afraid of capsizing. Which did not happen, luckily, despite the rather strong wind and waves. I found that it is helpful to have a history of crocheting and making friendship bracelets for learning to tie all those knots into all those ropes on a sailboat.

Other than that, we are incredibly busy. While the semester in Tübingen is just about to start, the semester in Berkeley is running towards its end, and we have to start thinking about term papers, which are going to be due at the end of the Vorlesungszeit, not at the beginning of the new semester.

Have a nice and hopefully sunny day!

Poet

PS

2009-04-12T07:33:00.001-07:00

Und Frohe Ostern euch allen!!!!!

Parser-chan

2009-04-11T08:49:00.001-07:00

Was ich heute gelernt habe:
1. Das Maskottchen von Kyoto Sanga ist ein Phönix namens パーサーちゃん (Paasaa-chan, für PURple SAnga).
1.5 Ich war noch nie in Deutschland bei einem Fußballspiel. Sollte ich bei Gelegenheit mal nachholen, und sei es nur, um den Vergleich zu haben.
1.7 Fußballfans scheinen weltweit genau gleich zu klingen. Nur dass sie sich hier scheinbar im Normalfall nicht gegenseitig verkloppen.
1.75 こうもり (koumori) nennt man auf Japanisch die Fledermaus, die vor mir ihre Kreise zog und wegen der ich mehrere Fouls verpasste (oder waren das Schwalben? Bemerkenswert, wie oft die Spieler am Boden rumkugeln...). 　
2. Ich habe seit dem 1. Januar keinen Eintrag in diesem Blog mehr geschrieben. Alles nachzuholen, was ich *hätte schreiben können* ist weder realistisch noch lesbar. Ich habe den Gedanken aufgegeben und werde nur kurz ein, zwei nicht relevante Themen ankratzen.
3. Hobomaus mag Kirschblüten.
4. Schöner sterben in Japan: Sakura, die Zierkirschenblüte, ist der Inbegriff des japanischen Schönheitsideals und das Symbol des Bushidou (Weg des Samurai): plötzlich erblühen, glänzen, schnell sterben.
5. Mein Bruder hat mir scheint's eine CD zum Geburtstag geschickt. Ich liebe wohlgediente Traditionen! Mag gar nicht bis nächste Woche warten um rauszufinden, was es ist. ^^
6. In Japan isst man Döner Kebab ohne Tomaten oder Zwiebeln und die Soße enthält keinen Joghurt.
7. Ich muss nächste Woche sowohl Schlaf als auch Arbeitszeit nachholen, weil ich diese Woche mehrmals früh heimgegangen bin um noch irgendwo Kirschblüten anzugucken. Kam mir richtig dekadent vor, als ich schon um halb fünf aus der Türe marschierte. Freilich ist das Nachholen von Schlaf und Arbeit keine gesunde Kombination... aber die Blüten waren schön. Ich hasse Pink und mag Rosa nicht besonders, aber bei natürlichen Farben wie sie in Blumen und Blüten oder bei Sonnenauf- und Untergängen vorkommen mache ich eine Ausnahme.
8. Wenn ich die ganzen Fotos vom Grillen im Wohnzimmer,

O-Hina-Sama-Angucken (spezielle, echt edle Püppchen zum Tag der Mädchen, 3. März),

Mamemake (Teufel mit Bohnen bewerfen),

Yamayaki (Berg abbrennen), O-Mizutori (noch mehr pyromanische Zeremonie), Pflaumenblüte und Kirschblüte,

zig Tempel und Schreine, Kyuudou (Bogenschiessen),

Sadou (Teezeremonie), Krabbenessen, O-Shiro-Matsuri (Schlossfest in Kouriyama. Kirschblüten und Okonomiyaki gibt der Luft echt einen seltsamen Geruch), Kyoto, Nara, Osaka, Philharmonie, Cosplay-Matsuri (Festival) etc. etc., also alles, was seit etwa Neujahr so liegengeblieben ist, sieben und beschriften will, wird mindestens ein Wochenende dabei draufgehen. Da ich bis etwa Ende Mai kein ganzes freies Wochenende absehen kann und vermute, dass sich in der Zeit noch deutlich mehr Fotos anhäufen werden, finde ich den Gedanken an meine Fotos mittlerweile geringfügig bedrohlich...
Ein paar davon habe ich mal hier eingefügt. Wer mehr Fotos zu irgendwas sehen möchte, der möge mir emailen. : )
Grüße an alle,
Aditu

sigbovik

2009-04-05T13:35:00.000-07:00

COMMON GUYS THIS WAS AN APRIL 1ST JOKE!!!!

I'm happy to announce that I am first author (ok, ok, I got some pressure to also mention A is a second author - but hey, let's just emphasize SECOND there) on a Category Theory paper. Of course I saw it more of an HCI, perception paper but whatever. Here are the proceedings (page 65) and here is the conference page: SIGBOVIK.

In case you're wondering it does appear on google scholar and it gets an isbn number. Submit for next year!

p.s.: I would actually appreciate it if you cite it because the impact award (based on how many citations you get in google scholar) is awesome!

Wild Art

2009-04-04T21:34:00.000-07:00

I followed nachamu's advice and my intuition and took a long walk through nature. But not just any kind of nature: the Albany Bulb, a peninsula near my home, started out as a landfill, then got overgrown, biotopized, and the trash still visible got turned into art by freestyle artists or used for building houses by homeless people (some of which still live there, but not the scary kind :). There's a library, an amphitheatre, there are large driftwood sculptures, there even is a church-like structure right near the shore looking out on Golden Gate Bridge, with a spiraling staircase and covered in graffiti. Whereever you look, you find wild plants, which are all in bloom right now (and I did get a little sneezy from that, but just a little - hooray for sea air!), and then the unexpected piece of graffiti, steel wire sculpture, mosaic, or architecture. A lot of people come there to go for walks, some for photo shootings in costume, some to make more art, some to make music. I met a family talking to a guy who played the accordion and tried it out for a while. Some pictures, taken on an earlier visit:

Babbling vs. being

2009-04-02T23:51:00.001-07:00

I just did one of those wild-goose-chases through Wikipedia; it started with voodoo (a student in my poetics class is doing a paper on voodoo incantations) and covered all the ground between that and Yoga, Wicca, trance, grimoires, and Hildegard von Bingen. Plus I recently read an article about the importance of daydreaming aka letting your mind wander. Which leaves me wondering about spirituality and mysticism in general and in particular. t., I am making the following an "instead" for your account of the Buddhist monk retreat. ;) A self-centered hyperactive modern-day intellectual control-freak's troubles, mostly plaintain leaves, but perhaps someone has something to say on this.

***

Meditative states of mind, mysticism, and such, are a modality of perception, experience or just "being" that I am totally missing out on. I feel bad about this, not only because I crave experience and knowledge and am annoyed at not having all possible means of seeing the world at my disposal, but also because I know that this mode of experience is supposedly beneficial to one's "inner peace", and that is a thing I am really lacking too. Mind you, I'm not talking abouts standard piety or institutionalized religion, that doesn't even map via the opium metaphor, but about personal spiritual experience in its various shades. States of meditation, states of prayer, states of "flow" when doing creative work.

I recall some approximation to these from my earlier life, though hardly in a traditional religious context - most of my devoutly Catholic prayers were just babbling to an assumed listener who never got a chance to answer, and most of my faith consisted of imposing rules on my mind and feeling bad for being unable to obey them. But I did have these blissful moments (please, nobody pull a mercutioesque joke on that...) on lonely walks through nature, when I was not forced to think or fulfill any tasks, just enjoying the sunlight and feeling connected to the assumed whatever there is beyond. Gothic cathedrals, I must admit, managed to produce such an effect too. Then there was the way I let my mind wander when practicing the clarinet, or drawing, or composing, or making jewelry out of those tiny little beads of which you need several hundred for a single necklace - I hardly do any of these pastimes regularly nowadays, I have neither time nor patience for finishing any long-term creative projects. Then there's the rush of inspiration that produces cryptic poetry and lyrical prose, but that's known to have been painful and obsessive at times, and while it leaves me feeling accomplished, it also exhausts me.

Nowadays, I am either too busy figuring out intellectual academic stuff, or I fill up my spare time with said "research" odysseys, crawling anything from livejournal poetry communities to fashion blogs (horribly superficial, I don't really know why I am doing this) to newspaper websites to Wikipedia, going where my interest leads me. Of course this is partly a good thing - exploring, collecting knowledge, randomly wandering, and most of all, finding out about things which I would earlier on have forbidden myself to explore because wanting to know about them contradicted my religious, or educational, or general self-miserablifying convictions. So I've freed my intellect, fine. Yet it remains my intellect alone that is free, and it is kept occupied by constantly having to process informative input.

When I do calm down, it is usually so late and I am usually so tired that I go to sleep immediately. When I end up praying out of habit for some reason or other, it's the old babbling thing all over again. I hardly ever switch off my internal monologue, judgement, evaluation, my hyperactive intellect.

Of course I know it's not only lack of time and abundance of distraction that are keeping me from that famous "letting go". It is also, to speak bluntly, the fear of insanity that has accompanied hyper-sensitive, poetic, overly associative me for most of my life. If I switch off my judgement, if I just drift off, wander away, let go of my "I" (or was that the "self"? The "me"? Can't tell them apart...) - and just experience, just exist, how do I know that I will be able to come back? How do I know that the things I experience are not "unreal", sickening, hallucinative, dangerous? How do I know that I am "me" if I let go of my internal judge?

I have the intuition that it would be good for me to do so once in a while, that spirituality in the sense of calming down, taking a break, opening up and listening, would be inspiring, healing, etcetera etcetera (babbling again...). But I know that while I strive to attain it because my intellectual reasoning tells me it is good, or even because I emotionally crave for it, I won't obtain it.

Some people use drugs, but that's clearly hazardous to health.

Some people become followers of one definitive religion, but again, my intellect tells me that, with all of them being mostly man-made, none of them presents the ultimate road to truth (is there an ultimate truth?). I am fascinated by the multitude of traditions, rituals, folk-lore stories there are in connection with various religions, but I have no cultural connection to most of them, and the one I might still have an affinity to because I was brought up in it has proved to make me miserable (also, I don't agree with the Vatican on the usual list of things).

Some people pay loads of money for yoga classes or hypnosis. I'm not sure I have that money.

Worst of all, I want a recipe, and I want results fast, because I am so accustomed to achieving goals fast. Bnaaaaa.

Embroideries

2009-03-30T19:16:00.000-07:00

Tonight we saw a lecture by Marjane Satrapi the writer of the "graphic novel" aka cartoon Persepolis that also made it into a movie. If you haven't seen the movie I strongly encourage you to do so.

What she talked about seemed like very reazonable, head on your shoulder kind of things. Can't say my mind was blown away but she seemed like someone's cool friend.

I didn't wait in line to get a book signed but I couldn't help it and bought her latest (very pink) book: Embroideries. Easy read, bitter funny and simple(she claimed she's not cynic but I sort of doubt it).

Mixed Observations

2009-03-29T13:22:00.000-07:00

Looking at Kate's Perl syntax highlighting applied to Prolog is like an LSD trip as far as the unreal color are concerned.
What is complete incomprehensible nonsense the first time can be a fabulous running gag the second time.
Colored sand used to hold tea lights in small glass cups, now it's little green balls of guck. Keep out of reach of overtired young adults.

the things I don't say out loud

2009-03-28T12:59:00.000-07:00

We all have things we don't want to put into words. We don't want to hear the echo of the syllables. The worst part is that I expect other people to hear the things I don't say. whatever

Bureaucracy

2009-03-26T10:10:00.000-07:00

"They require you to fill in every position you have ever held. Every time. In my case that's 25."

Okay, for me it is only my fourth position after my last degree. But wait, that's only one and a half year ago! And this is just part of my current odyssee in the currents of the university's administration.

Background: Despite the small number of students, D.M. fought successfully for the assistant position to our chair. It could however not be filled in time, since the chair was not filled soon enough. In academia, we don't waste money, we wisely re-distribute. Make two half positions, find two people who'd like to stay another six months in Tübingen, have them fill out some forms, and leave it to the administration. That usually works, given that these people work very efficiently under time pressure. I myself never had a contract from our university that was not made last-minute.

This time, they failed. They chose the wrong type of contract, had it done by the person responsible for that other kind of contract who couldn't see why what she was doing would be wrong, and today finally J. (the other person to get the assistant position) found out about that. So our sick secretary made it to her office, dug out all the necessary forms, made dozens of phone calls in spite of her voice failing, and killed two trees (we needed a lot of printed forms). We filled in some of the forms (rest next week, although the other person won't be here next week; another complication of matters), signing and writing down our names again and again. We're lucky, we're told by the secretary: Our names didn't already change four times.

Mr. "I don't look at you nor talk to you but I know how to write my signature!" signed the form (He's very good at pretending you're not even there). D.M. signed it, complaining about the administration. After all, we need those contracts April 1st. And off we went to the Brechtbau, hunting for more signatures. With a clever hint from a lecturer we finally caught the dean personally in his office, listened to him complain (about the whereabouts of the secretary), and also got his signature. Finally we handed it over to the administration.

Well, "finally" only for today. Because this was just the main form. There are dozens of others. For the job, that is. And did I mention the special letter from my professor to convince the administration why someone without a PhD (me) should have the assistant's position? At least I already got that. Although... admittedly, I didn't even read it. It was open, it was in my hands, and I just handed it over without even having a look!

For tomorrow I'm preparing my answers (in form of signed copies and original documents) to questions like: Are you allowed to visit a university at all (despite the fact that you already did, at this very particular university)? Do you have a health insurance? Are you working or studying? What is you name? What is you purpose? What is you favorite color?

I'm planning on doing my PhD in computational linguistics after all, for two reasons. a) It's closer to my actual work. Machine learning (currently I'm diving into that field) doesn't befit general linguistics. b) It requires one foreign language less. I know I'm an outlier here in speaking only two languages (the average must be around 4, not counting taabraskifloosok).

I'm not done yet. Bear with me as I open the letter from Unknown University with the contract cancelling contract. It lacks the one sentence that would entitle me to my full Weihnachtsgeld. Okay, a few more days and they will have to pay me for April. 1000€ more, that's nothing I fight for not getting.

Almost done. They messed up cancelling my residence in Unknown City. Okay, do it again.

Done.

Done bothering you. I still have to fill out all those forms. And I most surely forgot to tell about some painfully stupid details and requirements. Believe me: It's worse than you think. But all the secretaries, professors and deans fight very hard to get things done last-minute. And they're good at this. Hooray to procrastination.

the lady and the phone

2009-03-24T10:29:00.000-07:00

The other day I was the unwilling witness to debatable event. Walking into the ladies restroom a slim girl, with bangs, and sparkly bracelets follows me in while talking on a soft voice on her phone. She rushes into one of the cabins and continues umming with strong consonant sounds on a guttural, low voice on her cell.

Meanwhile the lady next door says something like "I hope you're not on the phone!".

Blank.

Murmurs from the cell "cabin" continue.

Lady next door: "Talking on the phone in the restroom is an invasion of my privacy so please hang up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On one hand I don't see the appropriateness of talking on the phone while on the potty at least with respect to your conversation partner (David Sedaris has a great story about that) but on the other hand I don't really see how outraged you can get if someone is "invading your privacy" by what? transmitting overseas the melodious sounds of your toilet activities?

Any other opinions?

I don't know who the two ladies are but today I heard two of our assistants talking about that incident so at least I can suspect who the outraged secretary was.

No dogs in my bed!

2009-03-24T08:48:00.000-07:00

After a long pause I have finally found some time to blog again. For you see, I've been very busy. Very busy eating, sleeping and playing. Nothing remarkable has been happening on my territory for a while, until we had another human guest last week (not that I would let a guest of some other species in anyways).

S. is a wonderful human being. She has been an exchange student in Tübingen 3,5 ago, right when K. was in her first semester, struggling to figure out how she is supposed to survive here all alone. I didn't have those problems at that time, because I wasn't even born. So S. and K. attended the same useless German courses and that's how they became friends. Since then, whenever K. is in Russia, she does her best to drop by S. place for a day or two. This time it was S. returning the visit :)

S. loves Germany, she generally likes to travel all around Europe when she has time and money. But she still says that the half-a-year she spent in Tü were some of the happiest months in her life. Well, I'd say, being an exchange student is often a lucky chance to see the brightest side of live in a foreign country - you take a few courses, you are supported and you know you are not going to stay here for long. So you feel and you are in fact very free.

Of course, whenever a new person appeares on my territory i feel confused, cause I don't really know how to treat the newcomer. Nobody cares to tell me whether the person will stay for a few hours or for a few days. That's why I usually retreat to under the bed and wait for things to sort themselves out.

This time, when K. and S. came back home after a walk in the rainy Altstadt, i did the same. After a few hours however, the hunger made me bolder and more inquisitive. And i found out S. was a most nice human! Very soon we became friends. One could certainly see she knows how to communicate with cats (ke, I like you to death, but you need to work on your fur-stroking skills =^^=). She also made a ton of pictures and K. has put some of them on-line already.

There was one uncomfortable moment though. S. came to Tü with an uglydog. It isn't actually ugly, just flat and red, and it has one eye and its paws are in one line... but that's not the point. The point is it was a dog, and S. put this dog on my kitty-tree. What an outrage! I tried to be polite first, but the thing would not get the idea that it was not particulaly welcomed on my tree. So, in the end I was forced to expell the intruder with a blow of my mighty paw (pity there is no shot of that moment of justice!)

S. had to leave next morning, otherwise her hotel booking in Hamburg would expire. I wish I could see her again, cause I really felt as ease with her.

On teaching German after the age of 10

2009-03-13T10:44:00.000-07:00

As per Bergansa's request I'm going to share a few thoughts about teaching German and would love to hear your opinions in turn. Let me say first that I am by no means an expert on the matter and that I am only just forming my opinion through my experiences with this one particular class. I have yet to be in the situation of coming to country with little or no knowledge of the language.
All the students in "my" class are 10 years or older, the oldest ones are 16. Neither Ms.L. nor myself speak any of their mother tongues, except for English of course. The doctrine is to speak only German, though we have to resort to the dictionary or to peer translation in some cases. More advanced students sometimes get to translate a text in their mother tongue to check their understanding.
We mostly try to teach by immersion, repetition etc... i.e. as if they were toddlers. I am by no means an expert in those matters, but as far as I have heard it is highly unlikely that anyone can learn a language just like a mother tongue beyond the age of 10 (some say, not even beyond 4 or 6 years of age). I am not at all against immersion - I do believe it is the best way to get started in a language. I just think people who have gone to school for 4, 6 or even 10 years in their home country shouldn't be taught grammar by trial and error. And I find it very upsetting to see the students have fights or be sad and confused or completely unable to do their exercises and have no means of communicating with them. I can't even tell some of them "This is too difficult for you. Do another exercise instead.".
There are many Russians in the class and several Turks and I wish I could get to know them better, understand their jokes and casual conversations. They seem like great young people who like each other a lot and help each other with their tasks. I also find it difficult to sort out fights and rows when I can't find out what happened. I don't want to tell them to just shut up and behave themselves.
On the other hand it would be counterproductive to segregate them by language and have them taught by a fellow countryman. So here's my and taabraskifloosok's vision: Wouldn't it be great if a class could be made up of three groups of 5 or 6 students from the same country and three teachers, one for each language. That way grammar could be explained systematically in their native tongue, which would make use of their knowledge ressources and they could help each other and would still be forced to speak German with the rest of the class. There could be a rule to first try German and only resort to the native language when this attempt failed. This would also allow students to receive instruction in their native language or bilingually about math, science, history etc. so they don't have too much to catch up when they are transferred to regular classes. I think that the lack of instruction in crucial subjects is one of the main reason why so many of them end up in Hauptschule. Being taught systematically might also spare them a lot of boredom and exhaustion from having but German lessons several days a week and the embarassment that comes from being taught German through childish stories and poems - generally the only ones they can understand.
Being taught only in German deprives them from adult support outside of the home and from the opportunity to stay in touch with their native culture and language academically . Wouldn't it be great if they could pass exams in their home country too so that they have a real choice where to live once they are grown up?
So I made a vow to learn at least Russian and Turkish if I am to stay in Germany in order to understand my students and help them learn - and also to be there for them in case something bad happens to a student who isn't fluent enough yet to tell.

ordeal by fire

2009-03-11T10:15:00.000-07:00

Don't worry, I'm happy and well (mostly), I just looked up Feuerprobe in the dictionary and this is what I found.
This morning I spent 2 1/2 hours, 3 lessons,alone in a classroom with 16 students aged 10-16. 4 of them don't speak German at all (Well, they do understand "Halt die Klappe!", "Setz dich hin!" and a few other crucial orders) and the others don't understand too much, either. This comes as no surprise as this class is a preparation class for foreign students who came to Germany with no knowledge of the language. They turn up throughout the school year and stay for 1 or 2 years before they are passed on to regular secondary education. There is one class for primary school aged children, one for students aged 11-16 and one that tries to integrate people over 16 right into the workforce.
Most of "my" students come from Russia, but there's also one pair of siblings from the USa and one pair from Turkey, plus one or two students from Poland, one from Romania, another Turk, one from Albania and one from Thailand.
In age they are anywhere between very playful little boys and sparsely bearded, lanky youngsters, with a few hormone ridden young ladies in between.
Maybe I should mention how I got into this class. S. has been taking me to school with her since early November to co-teach a unit about the world religions in her 4th grade philosophy group and introduced me to a colleague of hers who teaches the Vorbereitungsklasse. I joined that group after carnival break and have been watching and helping out teaching small groups two mornings a week since then. Today the main teacher Ms.L. had a lengthy doctor's appointment and asked me to fill in for her. The adventurous side of my severely schizoid self took over and agreed. I payed for that with two days of extreme mood swings ("Wow, this is the real world experience I've been craving for years" vs. "I'm never gonna make it. They'll eat me alive...") and intense preparation, not to forget the occasional fearful stomach cramp. I purposefully set a fairly easy goal: I wanted all of us to survive and be safe without having to involve the school nurse, the headmaster and the police. This goal was achieved. The first two lessons went fairly well indeed. I started off with a pretty childish story Ms.L. had given me and which we read aloud, underlined, acted and analyzed. Then out came my own worksheets on poetry (well, I did include some Heine in the hardest one)and rhymes. This of course had been planned according to my deep inner educational convictions: I included 3 levels of difficulty, hiphop lyrics for the older boys, cutesy Poesiealbum stuff for the girls and Paul Maar's Udakak und Lidokork which none of them understood. I offered 8 sheets with a mandatory 3 to complete (most of them did 5), printed-out solutions for them to check answers themselves, additional individual assignments for fast workers and an easy backup sheet for the weaker ones.
After that we were ready for a round of games. Little A. (10 years old, from Russia) suggested to send one person out of the room, change something and have them guess what. This game was a huge success with little A. and little D. hidden under my desk, in the cupboard, behind the sofa, behind the blackboard... and a student from next door asking us to be a little more quiet. Then came my only real confrontation with a student during which I really tried to be consequent but just couldn't follow through when he apologized. Next time I need a better Strafarbeit, because I just felt it didn't make any sense for him to copy our story. Little D. gave me a very disappointed "You're just too kind!". They had their workbooks out for the rest of that lesson and then - it was over.
I could hardly believe it: For most of the time they'd been almost as good as with a regular teacher and they'd been active for a good part of the time. Now I wouldn't say I'm a good teacher yet, but I think I'm a promising beginner. One part of teaching doesn't come naturally, though:discipline. This may be due to the fact that I don't see myself as important or worthy of attention, so I'm not very offended if people don't listen to me. After today's experience though, I feel like I might get used to disciplining students in time on the assumption that it is necessary for me to be able to play my strengths. They won't find out that I like them and am very interested in what they do and think and ready to provide them with individual learning opportunities if they don't listen to me at all.
Phew, this is already a huge post and I could rant and rant and rant about school... I'll save my thoughts on teaching German after the age of 10, on spoiled brats, on kitschy crafty cuteness, the injustice of our educational system etc.etc. for another time.
It seems as if there's nothing much to tell apart from school stuff. I never feel as alive as in school (well, and never as dead as thereafter)...

How cool is that?

2009-03-10T15:58:00.000-07:00

***

How many masks wear we, and undermasks,
Upon our countenance of soul, and when
If for self-sport the soul itself unmasks,
Knows it the last mask off and the face plain?
The true mask feels no inside to the mask
But looks out of the mask by co-masked eyes.
Whatever consciousness begins the task
The task’s accepted use to sleepness ties.
Like a child frighted by its mirrored faces,
Our souls, that children are, being thought-losing,
Foist otherness upon their seen grimaces
And get a whole world on their forgot causing;
And, when a thought would unmask our soul’s masking,
Itself goes not unmasked to the unmasking.

Alexander Search (a heteronym of the Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa)

write a story!

2009-03-10T11:52:00.001-07:00

this is an idea stolen from gramo.ro a romanian blog I follow from time to time and felt the need to give them credit.

You have to write a short story (3-4 paragraphs) that includes the items in the pictures below. The items should play a significant role in the story not just casually mentioned in a sentence :)

I think we can all send goodies to the winner!

(not so) Cryptic notes, part 5

2009-03-10T00:21:00.000-07:00

I have (hopefully finally) moved out from Bielefeld. Everything I had there in one bag. That reminded me of the one candidate for my room, who felt unpleasant about "having" and denied "owning" things. A room he needed urgently, though, or it'd be a caravan. Wagenburg, Tübingen? Of course, been there. My roommate didn't like him; she's got a Putzfimmel (translations for that aren't nearly as funny; ask dict.leo). So she still doesn't have a new roommate, and I hope she'll find someone to take over the furniture. Even if you leave it's never really over.

The contract. Imagine you get money. Enough to live from, but it's only half a position. You're mostly working at home. And now you get an equivalent position somewhere else, as a replacement. Two halves don't exceed anything, but somehow you feel obliged to cancel the old contract. So you find out you need a Vertragsauflösungsantrag, on basis of which there then will be a Vertragsauflösungsvertrag (three letters in the word changed!). Basically a lot of unpleasant bureaucracy. So why should I now go into lengths to cancel this old contract in time (before April), when I don't even have the new contract yet? I think I'm going to be very lazy (and I'm a master of procrastination) about this one. Worst thing to happen is that I have more money in the end.

My work. We're still waiting for the reviewers, and the follow-up draft left our line of research. If it was a line at all... I got quite a good idea of how to bring it all together in the end, but there has to be a point when I will say: No more totally new ideas from now on.

For now, I'm proceeding slowly. I've been fiddling around with almost undocumented programs. A user commented "1. Wow, how useful! 2. Where's the documentation?" and wrote down his own first steps. Probably that's what I will do: write a small tutorial. It might even fit into my prof's seminar on exploratory statistical data analysis next semester.

And yet again, I'm proceeding too quickly (and take a break to post here), because fiddling around with programs which would do exactly what you always needed if you could only get them running and tell them what to do is my colleague's field of interest and expertise. I've been trying to avoid doing this, his work. He had a fairly good idea what to use, but that wasn't as accessible to me as was what I tried now, and he couldn't test it on our data, because I wrote the data conversion and extraction methods as part of a rather huge program. Very cryptic indeed: It makes my work unaccessible to my only colleague.

Btw, today is Christmas. We're unpacking dime's packet.

Oh, no! http://www.phdcomics.com/comics/archive.php?comicid=1143 Except in real life, you never come to discuss the why's (last picture).

Karteuffelchen und Pfannkuchencaspar

2009-03-05T23:14:00.000-08:00

No cute childhood pictures, but some randomly acquired works of art. The Karteuffelchen has become the regular inhabitant of our cupboard, whereas the pancake ghost has gone the way of all pancake...

Der Junge mit dem Schlüssel

2009-03-05T14:16:00.000-08:00

To continue the "kids with items" post series started by bergansa... remember the key to our pivniţa, auract? Given the size ratio... well, this one is still a bit bigger. It's the key to a church someplace in Roussillon, France, held by me in 1989. Oh well, France... I don't miss being there too much (yet), probably because of the dorm, but I do miss my classmates there. Great people, those CL people, everywhere. ;-) Not only CL people, of course. I'm looking forward to contributing to a partial end of this diaspora and seeing many of you more frequently again. I hope we'll keep you expats posted all the same. Did you, for example, read about the historical archive of the city of Cologne, which collapsed in its entirety on Tuesday? Apart from the two people still being missed, this is very deplorable also because a lot of irreplacable historical documents have been wiped out. In my geeky thinking and because I spent the best part of the summer of 2006 in archives myself (long story with a bad ending), I hope this event will cause archivists to scan (and upload) more stuff in the future. Meanwhile, I've spent the month of February in Wuppertal with my parents, sis, bro, the rain, occasionally my bike, and the computer, working on the new project with taabraskifloosok. This project and my imminent move back to Tübingen are the reason why I bought a lot of products from Sweden lately: I'm a content user of SICStus Prolog and looking forward to being one of LYCKSELE, the only bed/couch of its class that's comfy to sit on. It was only available in weird colors, but then I decided I've always wanted a pink couch anyway. So long, see you soon!

random list of the day - good procrastionation material

2009-03-04T21:50:00.000-08:00

one great short story. maybe now I feel all special knowing stuff about india.

two addictive games

three homeworks to completer

Cryptic notes, part 4

2009-03-02T15:01:00.001-08:00

My personal phd comic continues with two episodes.

1. "Not here, not now"

While we're waiting for the reviewers to review, I gathered some following ideas in a four page draft. Well, "trivial" and "not what we want to do". Did you submit that to the local conference? No? Good.

2. "Credit where credit is due"

Do you remember Hinz & Kunz 2006? Most probably not, but here's the story. They had some not too well established baseline in their statistical analysis. A couple of months ago, I suggested a random sample instead of trying to calculate it, and I mentioned this suggestion to several people. I almost forgot about it, until today, when a model was fitted to miraculous 90%, with no baseline given. Somebody important had an idea:

"A random sample as done by Hinz & Kunz would be best here."

Fortunately I did not need to explain myself. My heartfelt thanks go to two colleagues of mine.

Apart from that the non-existant city has less housing problems than any decently student-populated area. I have serious trouble finding someone taking over my room. This city also has a strategy to keep people here: If you want to exmatriculate, you have to hand in your semester ticket first. At least they claim it's a very, very uncommon case that you still want to ride the subway, till the end of the semester, or even use the ticket to get out of town.

visits

2009-03-02T08:49:00.000-08:00

Last weekend CMU invited the accepted phd students for a visit so we all tried to be on our best behavior, charming as usual, and brag and impress. My impressions: some people need to learn to lay down the arrogance at least for a couple of hours a day
Student X university Y: "Oh all our lab has 22 inch monitors and I don't even see one here."
Student A university CMU: "Well at least we like each other"
uncomfortable silence
awkward loud laughs

The same student said a bunch of other weird stuff that made me realize that being insecure is a a big problem because you really don't realize how arrogant you sound. At least I like to believe he was insecure and not just trying to be a smart ass.

I felt inspired to write about grad life with submissions and deadlines and how your adviser is writing grants non stop the same week you have your own deadline but since I'm not half as funny as our other contributors here I'll just summarize it:
I worked on getting the most amazing error bars and color schemes for my matlab figures, I also fought hard to fit a huge table (including standard deviations mind you), and I wrote a very dry, to the point, scientific abstract. The day before it was due I got the reviews from my adviser (who's great) and realized that it was kind of stupid to do all of that. So I started from scratch and then in half an hour wrote something kind of sloppy but promising a lot in the future work section. We'll see if it gets in!

Anyways, next week I just found out I have another friend visiting and I'm looking forward to that. Not to mention it's spring break so yay for studying without going to class.

Das Mädchen mit der Schaufel

2009-02-21T23:42:00.000-08:00

Meine Mama hat als Schülerin an die helle sozialistische Zukunft geglaubt. Aber wie zierlich und unbeholfen sie die Schaufel bei der Arbeitserziehung hält!..

Ich finde das Foto genial. Die Babylonier aus dem ehemaligen Sowjetlager werden mich verstehen.

groceries

2009-02-21T11:44:00.000-08:00

I grew up with veggies from the backyard. The meat you could see it alive and well (yes, no sentimentalism there), the tomatoes you'd pick them in the morning and had to wash them because they were splattered with mud. At most the fertilizer was coming from a big barrel of chicken and cow excrement (again, no need to be prissy about it).

In the US things are different. You get more antibiotics from the chicken at a restaurant than in a syringe as they're supposed to come. Apples have a thick coating of wax to protect them from getting spoiled. Tomatoes are picked when they're green as grass and they "mature" with the help of chemistry in boxes.

So here's my list of organic produce:

Eggs
Milk
Tomatoes
Apples
Bell Peppers
Lettuce
Spinach
Potatoes (which I haven't bought so far)
Oatmeal (which unfortunately has way more sugar than it's supposed to)
Flour

Here's a list of nonorganic stuff I buy
Onions (doesn't make a difference)
Carrots
Frozen veggie bags with corn and peas
Broccoli
Avocado

This list helped a lot.

Do you buy organic? What?

a toy

2009-02-20T15:58:00.000-08:00

we went to the vet and on the way out they give out free pet toys. anyone finds it ironic that we live in a society where there are children starving and who have never seen a toy in their life and we pay minimum wages to make free toys for mutts?

In trutina mentis dubia

2009-02-12T14:32:00.000-08:00

Dear fellow Babylonians,

I apologize for my long absence. I apologize for not answering to most of your Christmas greetings and gifts, though I was very happy about the black wings, the chocolate and the Japanese sweets, and also the letters... I apologize for the whininess of the following post. I had a long Christmas break, I've been to Yosemite for skiing, snowboarding (alas) and hiking (and not getting eaten by bears) before Silvester, I've been on a boat out in the San Francisco bay for New Year, I've been to Tahoe very recently for more skiing and snowboarding, and I am relatively groggy. The second semester has started, I'm taking way too many classes (phonology, historical linguistics, introductory cognitive linguistics, cross-cultural poetics, and quantitative methods) and they are all relatively interesting, but I manage to be behind on my readings and do my homework sloppily nevertheless. Doesn't sound like dear old apple-polisher me, does it?

The fact is, and this is why I'm so groggy, my mind is full of doubts. I like linguistics, but I'm not REALLY dedicated to it. I don't want to spend my life writing papers and grant applications. And I'm not sure what else I want. I am good at a number of artistic things, but most of them are really poorly developed - either because dear old reasonable apple-polisher me decided early on that pursuing them would be bad for my health, or wouldn't make me a living, or would change my lifestyle for the worse, or would drive me to insanity because it encourages the forming of weird and twisted connections in my mind, or was too counterintellectual or mainstream to deign it worthy of attention (we don't want to ruin our taste and style with kitchy texts and silly melodies), or, most ridiculously, because some big evil guy had wanted to do that very thing... plus the lack of self-confidence; I was never one of the cool kids before ISCL, and I always did the reasonable thing that the grown-ups made me feel was right. So I never took painting or drawing or singing or acting classes, I didn't even try to apply for fashion design studies, I wrote atonal earnest music instead of folksy-jazzy-ballady songs, I wrote cryptic poetry that no-one would understand with the sole purpose of keeping them in my drawer. But dear old apple-polisher me is getting weak, the way she saw the world has been proved wrong, or more correctly, it has been proved that it is terribly difficult to find out what is right or wrong, though that's really sort of trivial.

For a while I thought I wanted to be a writer. I love words, I love language, I love stories, for heaven's sake, and I think I may have some poetic and narrative talent. But it makes no sense trying as long as I can only write when I'm unhappy, or as long as the only thing I can write about is quite tangibly not good for me, or maybe it is and I'm just denying it and I should actually reverse my steps, which is something I should not even speak about... In addition, I'd have to write in English to stand a chance of being published here. There is a two-year writer's scholarship from Stanford which I might get if I tried hard enough. But I'm not even sure if I want to stay here, if I want to write, or am able to write, good prose in English. The same goes for singer-songwriter. Of course, and this is complicating matters a lot, there is also the personal parallel to these career doubts, and each increases the other. Won't torment you with that, I'm fussing about it too much already - or, I should say, still. Though I have taken up tango dancing and singing again, I am not sure whether that helps or worsens the situation.

Too many inward connections, too few outward connections: all the people around me seem so dedicated to their studies, and only their studies. Plus in some cases their personal family lives, which they don't really share, no offense taken. No talking about literature or its derivatives, music, or anything. None of that lovely interdisciplinary nerdiness. Or that silly but liberating mercutioesqueness. I miss you guys, and if you have a piece of advice for me, I'll be happy to hear it. Sorry if this was depressing. But you know me, I get these fits of whininess from time to time.

Greetings from the exile :S

Poet

Cryptic notes, part 3

2009-02-11T09:44:00.000-08:00

While I'm really grateful that my prof finds the time to read a paper and comment on it the very next day, the story could have been quite different. I'm going to tell that story... the way it has NOT been.

Personae dramatis:
the Student - the tragic wannabe-hero, lost in academia
the Professor - who has already proven his work to be meaningful and can publish on anything he likes
the Colleague - did you notice the guy in the corner? Neither did I.

Act 1 - The draft

Student: I hope you read my draft...
Professor: It's quite trivial. Never has anything that understandable been published on the topic.
S: Time to do so.
P: Who'd care anyway? Unless you find "the main result" and proove it, it's worthless. You have to think of the reviewers.

Intermezzo; same day, 5 p.m.

P: I talked to one of the post-docs, he got the solution in five minutes. I didn't find you in your office. Could you come over again?

Act 2 - The aftermath; 5:30

P: See! That simple! It's almost proven.
S: Got a counterexample.
P: Modify it here.
S: Another one.
P: Another modification. It's getting better.
S: Another one.
P: And the final adjustment. That proves the original idea was right.
S: Another one...
P: I still have to write an entire paper till tomorrow, so I leave the details for you to fill in. You'll see, it's quite obvious.

... a week passes ...

Act 3 - The meeting

P: I didn't understand your definitions, so I didn't even read the proof. You have to think of the general audience, not only the expert reviewers.
S explains the definitions.
P: You didn't define the main terminology of the paper you're using in proposition 1.
S: The sentence just before that?
P: It's not marked with bold font "definition"! Anyway, it seems right you're skipping the proof of prop. 1. It can be done by a simple induction.
As for proposition 2, "the main result", you should rather call it "conjecture". I've got a few ideas for you how one could try to proove it. Translate it into a combinatory logic, proove its equivalence and do the proof there; or work on the lambda-terms directly, but they're insufficient anyway. Read the dissertation of Unheard-of Wise Guy (1991) and adapt the formalism, here's my copy (200 pages of formulae).
Ah, considering the deadline, forget it, and try to proove proposition 1. That should be feasible in the time left.

P leaves.

S: What about the proof on page 7... nevermind.

(poet would have done it differently. phdcomics, too.)

Now my actual problems are:

- What constitutes a proof? How much detail is needed? When can you EVER be sure there is no gap in the proof? Find a formal language to express the propositions in, then it may be possible. Until then, the so-called proofs are merely argumentations.

- How do I both pass the expert reviewers, AND address the general audience, consisting of linguists and logicians? What's trivial for some, is entirely new to the others, and vice versa.

- Who is going to understand it, if not C and P? Okay, I already rewrote some definitions, and grounded the informal descriptions on two different representations, on for the logicians (proof nets) and one for the linguists (lambda terms).

- Who is going to be interested in the details I work out, if not I? Because the "main result" is of very little use, and little theoretical intereset. Something I wanted to skip on the way to more interesting stuff.

- How is the paper going to look like on saturday (the deadline)? Am I going to cite Unheard-of Wise Guy?

Kohlkuchen

2009-02-10T00:54:00.000-08:00

Gestern habe ich den "Weltensammler" fertig gelesen, und heute "Die unerträgliche Leichtigkeit des Seins". Eine in den Jahren des Literaturstudiums halb vergessene, angenehme Traurigkeit - sich von einem Buch zu trennen.
Ich habe noch drei Wochen Ferien, und bin bei meinen Eltern in Russland. Und nicht einmal eine Hausarbeit! Gesegnet sei Erasmus! Ich lasse es mir gut gehen, verbringe die meiste Zeit auf dem Sofa, besuche Freunde und die Verwandtschaft. Habe gelernt, "Kohlkuchen" (пирог с капустой) und Quarkkuchen (ватрушка) zu backen - ein gutes Unterhaltungsthema mit meinen zwei Omas, und der Exotenstatus in Deutschland muss ja auch aufrechterhalten werden. Die russische Küche mit den vielen Gängen und unzähligen Vorspeisen ist unglaublich zeitraubend für die Frauen - es kochen im Normalfall nur Frauen. Lecker ist sie auch. Ein Familienfest ist mit Aufräumen und tagelangem Kochen verbunden, so dass man nicht allzu oft und spontan Gäste einlädt. Ich bin zu kritisch - Zeichen der mangelnden Distanz.
Im Flieger aus Köln saß neben mir ein angetrunkener russischer Akkordeonist ("Akkordeon ist keine Harmonika! Ich spiele klassische Stücke!..") und wollte unbedingt wissen, ob es mir in Deutschland oder in Russland besser gefällt. Ich habe ihn gefragt: "Wen lieben Sie mehr? Ihre Mama oder Ihren Papa?" Ein dummer Spruch - man müsste sich nicht einbilden, abstrakte Kategorien wie "Russland" zu lieben. Ich liebe ein paar Menschen, und bin mit ein paar ganz gut befreundet. Sie leben in verschiedenen Städten.
Hm... eigentlich wollte ich den Post über was Anderes schreiben. Na so was.
Will jemand das Rezept vom Kohlkuchen haben?

unpolished

2009-02-10T00:15:00.000-08:00

it's 3.14 am and I just got home - the cat needed to play.
Team work is not the best thing in the world. In one class I am the underdog in the team while in the other I'm the one that gets things done... and I have a version of me in the team too. Which one I prefer?

Which one would you prefer? In squash I clearly enjoy playing with someone slightly better than me. It motivates me and I improve. In the academic situation though the difference is a bit too big...

it's just the beginning of the semester and hopes are building up: projects to complete, pounds to lose, and papers to submit.

last weekend I went to miracle fruit party. Admittedly it was miracle fruit tablets rather than the berry per se but the dorian served right before was quite original and stinkyly so.

full cycle.

Some News from Tübingen

2009-02-07T10:07:00.000-08:00

Found a flat. Derendingen. Friendly flatmates. Great kitchen. I'm moving in at the beginning of March or so.
Done most of the post-Erasmus paperwork.
Tested the Fachschaft 'unch and enjoyed it.
Contributed to a lynch massacre in a Russian village paranoid with werewolves. (Yeah, that was a game at mk's birthday party.)
Amazed at how malleable Musipher is.

Trivial (Cryptic notes, part 2)

2009-01-28T07:41:00.000-08:00

I feel so stupid.

So I've been working on a paper recently, and not only recently. There's altogether about 3-4 months of reading, thinking, programming, and writing involved. Huge amounts of data, manually inspected, automatically converted, 95% precision where 100% would not be asked too much.

I cannot proove the main result of the paper yet, I even cannot grasp it precisely. The upper and lower boundary are uninteresting, I need to pin it down. Very much like somewhere between context-free and context-sensitive, tentatively using the term "mild". The result would be of some interest, at last, but I just don't have it, and only two weeks left.

For the rest of the paper, what I thought to be interesting turns out to be trivial. Okay, it hasn't been employed explicitly in linguistics, but it's trivial if you know your Linear Logic.

Normandy

2009-01-19T08:40:00.000-08:00

It was auract who forced me to sign up to Facebook - actually: who signed me up to Facebook - shortly before she left Tübingen for the States. It became indispensable shortly after I arrived in Paris almost five months ago. It now reveals how many people I met in Paris and gosh, despite Wall-to-Wall, messages, and applications that allow you to virtually throw pickles, treasure chambers, poststructuralist nihilism and other entities at each other, how will I manage to stay in contact with even a selected minimum of them? Now that my Parisian semester is drawing to a close, at least I tend to bump into a lot of people so I can say goodbye.

For a very long time, I couldn't make up my mind whether or not to extend my stay by another semester. It became clear in December when I grew tired of listening to professors talking in French for two hours straight, and realized that there would be no more Master 2 courses next semester - the people who figured as my classmates for most of the time will either intern or write their mémoires (M.A. theses). Unfortunately, the idea to try to intern at a French company or research institute myself for the two months between the French and the German semester occurred to me at a point where it was already a little late to organize this, with exams and projects taking a lot of my time. As a result, it's back to Germany now, and two not-too-stressful months ahead (not idle, either). Maybe I'll intern in France during the summer.

Ten days ago M. very kindly invited A., C., V., and me to a dinner/Wii game night/Normandy roadtrip along the sea, through historical villages, an excellent restaurant, and even his grandmother's living room, where we experienced the French new year's tradition of tirer les rois. It's funny when you get to know and old tradition and the cake you eat is a promotional Kung Fu Panda theme cake, and the figurine baked into it is Master Viper.

If everything goes according to plan, Musipher will temporarily accept me as a third guest in his realm next week, so I'll show up in Tübingen to start flat-hunting, paperwork, dies und jenes...