You are cordially invited to follow the journeys of 21 year-old fledgling travel writer, cultural taste tester, indier-than-thou music criti-snob and renowned animator of average stories, Mark Hiew, as he returns to his motherland of Australia on a four-week journey offorgotten self-discovery, existential post-Foucaltian whinging and cheap beer sampling as only Aussie-Chinese Malays with mutt British-American accents know how.
And yes, I threw myself out on a limb with that last qualifier. You'd be surprised how many of us "bananas," "twinkies," or "I could just settle and go with Asian-American but that's too simple...gimme some identity issues!" are floating around in your troposphere. Next time you're out, just look for the Asian kid in the abercrombie checkered shorts fiddling with his mini ipod, switching from Kanye to Guster...or the Korean-based army of timberland/ralph lauren mix-ups who combine mom's kimchi with b-boy contests. (as in breakdancing,fyi)...I call it retro-colonization. With all this debate concerningChinese Oil buy-outs and the INDIANification of Dell's service lines,the pundits seem to have overseen the most obvious "Oriental Threat" that's been on the up for years: the well-read, clean-cut Asian boy in their daughter's bedroom.
Zing! Chalk one up for team A-Z-N, little panda.
And so Little Panda, otherwise known as Mark, shall be traveling from DC to LA before arriving in Melbourne - home of good film festivals and better comedy - for three days, before flying on to the bastion of aussie football and the writer's former stomping group of Perth for eleven. Following this comes a flight to the northern haven of Darwin, best known for its swift demolition by Japanese bombers some six decades before. Here I shall venture off of the golden sands of the kangarooed country, across the Arafura sea, and into the arms of the baby crocodile of nations, Timor-Leste.
The people of Timor-Leste, or East Timor, as it is often referred to, are the subject of my thesis research, in which I will analyze the judicial process which followed one of the most unnerving and preventable genocides in modern history, during which Indonesian soldiers wiped out (using US provided napalm bombs, among otherthings) between two and three hundred thousand of the previosly existing one million Timorese. The country, which is just over three years old, is reputed to be astoundingly beautiful, and its native culture has for centuries been a jewel in the throne of contemporary Polynesia. I am, as some articulate; super-freaking-psyched, about this researchand scuba-diving opportunity.
From Timor, I make haste my return to Darwin, before traveling back to the East Coast and the now-familiar wonders of Sydney, our best recognized export. There I plan on visiting fellow UMD philosophy students (Asian, but of course), then eating my last Mrs. Mac steak and kidney pie whilst simultaneously trying to whistle "I Still Call Australia Home,"before being whisked off to the grayness and filled schedules of lifein Washington DC, a city which never saw a 70 hour work week it didn'tlike.
And yes, I threw myself out on a limb with that last qualifier. You'd be surprised how many of us "bananas," "twinkies," or "I could just settle and go with Asian-American but that's too simple...gimme some identity issues!" are floating around in your troposphere. Next time you're out, just look for the Asian kid in the abercrombie checkered shorts fiddling with his mini ipod, switching from Kanye to Guster...or the Korean-based army of timberland/ralph lauren mix-ups who combine mom's kimchi with b-boy contests. (as in breakdancing,fyi)...I call it retro-colonization. With all this debate concerningChinese Oil buy-outs and the INDIANification of Dell's service lines,the pundits seem to have overseen the most obvious "Oriental Threat" that's been on the up for years: the well-read, clean-cut Asian boy in their daughter's bedroom.
Zing! Chalk one up for team A-Z-N, little panda.
And so Little Panda, otherwise known as Mark, shall be traveling from DC to LA before arriving in Melbourne - home of good film festivals and better comedy - for three days, before flying on to the bastion of aussie football and the writer's former stomping group of Perth for eleven. Following this comes a flight to the northern haven of Darwin, best known for its swift demolition by Japanese bombers some six decades before. Here I shall venture off of the golden sands of the kangarooed country, across the Arafura sea, and into the arms of the baby crocodile of nations, Timor-Leste.
The people of Timor-Leste, or East Timor, as it is often referred to, are the subject of my thesis research, in which I will analyze the judicial process which followed one of the most unnerving and preventable genocides in modern history, during which Indonesian soldiers wiped out (using US provided napalm bombs, among otherthings) between two and three hundred thousand of the previosly existing one million Timorese. The country, which is just over three years old, is reputed to be astoundingly beautiful, and its native culture has for centuries been a jewel in the throne of contemporary Polynesia. I am, as some articulate; super-freaking-psyched, about this researchand scuba-diving opportunity.
From Timor, I make haste my return to Darwin, before traveling back to the East Coast and the now-familiar wonders of Sydney, our best recognized export. There I plan on visiting fellow UMD philosophy students (Asian, but of course), then eating my last Mrs. Mac steak and kidney pie whilst simultaneously trying to whistle "I Still Call Australia Home,"before being whisked off to the grayness and filled schedules of lifein Washington DC, a city which never saw a 70 hour work week it didn'tlike.
posted by Mark Hiew at
9:54 AM
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