The Summer Palace and C4 Bending
I swam 19.29 today, much faster than I would have imagined, considering that my arms lacked swimming fitness. The daily badminton duels with my parents, and the floorball gathering, and the Beijing walkathons have taken their toll.
My first day in Beijing was covered in smog, gray gray gray, so much so I despaired that anything could be beautiful under Beijing's gray sky. The city is too far inland to enjoy the ocean breeze, so dust and pollutants from cars collect and build up, till the next wind or rain. On bad days, it's equivalent to smoking six or seven cigarettes a day, or so I've been told by a doctor, second-hand. Beijing locals aren't surprised that non-smokers get throat cancer.
Inside my five-star Royal King Hotel, I breathed cleanness and soaked in tubs and lay in huge beds with actually-comfortable pillows. Why is their pillow so comfortable? I don't get it - it looks so ordinary, so much so I now think Tempur-pedic is a fraud. I am treated to dinners in posh restaurants by BAB and Xi, and ate the best dumplings and xiaolongbao ever in Jade Garden, where I later brought Kat for a treat. The currency conversion here makes me feel like a king; even expensive restaurants don't feel expensive. And those famous words from BAB: keep the receipt. There are many receipts.
My idea about the C4-bent Wilson loop finally took life, after brewing in my mind for a year now. It's nice to see BAB and my chinese collaborators at the Institute of Physics so excited. BAB quickly proved the equivalence with the Pfaffian in the plane ride back to California, something that I wanted to do myself, because I enjoy these analytical challenges. I felt a bit cheated, like he could have let me earn my chops to derive it. Nevertheless, I came up with a better proof days later. Hopefully, these materials are really found - there is much hope riding on them, because their existence assumes no spin-orbit coupling, and so many materials have no spin-orbit coupling.
After a breakthrough in our physics discussions, I went off into the urban jungle, where wild dogs roam free, and attack each other, and are eaten in respectable restaurants, if they are not careful. Kat and I toured Beijing. We went to the outskirts of the Forbidden City, carefully avoiding the main tourist crowds. I hear that if you head to the center of the City, you're jumping into a river of tourists, and you just flow with the river. We weren't careful enough, and were dragged into hidden art gallery by a conniving university-student-cum-artist-cum-tour-salesman. He tried to convince us that his water paintings were beautiful, and when that failed he appealed to our compassion for his plight as a struggling university student. Nevertheless, he was charming enough that I didn't mind, and I not-so-quickly extricated myself from the gallery; Kat got stuck longer, and eventually bought a calligraphy of her name for ten yuan. We found a quiet garden in the outskirt of the city, where couples play badminton, and locals come to take their nap in the shade. Such an oasis I did not expect to find.
The last day was spent in the Summer Palace, which is dominated by the Kunming Lake - a man-made lake dug up by 100000 labourers because of the whim of an emperor. Rumours say the ground they dug up formed a small mountain next to the lake. We took Lonely Planet's suggestion and toured the lake in a human-powered pedal boat. Then climbed the most beautiful set of stairs up to the Hall of Longevity, and finally got lost in a maze of gardens at the top of the climb, where we eventually found a beautiful pond surrounded by intricate walkways. There Kat taught me to salute the sun, and I got my first taste of yoga. Eventually, I admitted to feeling self-conscious. Our yoga session had attracted a crowd of tourists who were eagerly taking pictures. Sometimes I feel Kat is oblivious to the attention she gets. In Beijing, she drew a lot of attention. 'Meiguoren!' A child shouted at her. She admits to feeling surrounded by silence, because she couldn't understand a single spoken word. What a curious feeling. In contrast, I have had many misadventures being able to understand half of what people say, and being able to communicate a quarter of what I want to say. Like staring down an all-Chinese menu and having the kind waitress explain to me what each dish means. Like being locked out of the Institute office by a stubborn security guard thrice, and being unable to complain of the injustice of it all. I will remember his face when he saw Kat and I walk through the gate the next day.
My first day in Beijing was covered in smog, gray gray gray, so much so I despaired that anything could be beautiful under Beijing's gray sky. The city is too far inland to enjoy the ocean breeze, so dust and pollutants from cars collect and build up, till the next wind or rain. On bad days, it's equivalent to smoking six or seven cigarettes a day, or so I've been told by a doctor, second-hand. Beijing locals aren't surprised that non-smokers get throat cancer.
Inside my five-star Royal King Hotel, I breathed cleanness and soaked in tubs and lay in huge beds with actually-comfortable pillows. Why is their pillow so comfortable? I don't get it - it looks so ordinary, so much so I now think Tempur-pedic is a fraud. I am treated to dinners in posh restaurants by BAB and Xi, and ate the best dumplings and xiaolongbao ever in Jade Garden, where I later brought Kat for a treat. The currency conversion here makes me feel like a king; even expensive restaurants don't feel expensive. And those famous words from BAB: keep the receipt. There are many receipts.
My idea about the C4-bent Wilson loop finally took life, after brewing in my mind for a year now. It's nice to see BAB and my chinese collaborators at the Institute of Physics so excited. BAB quickly proved the equivalence with the Pfaffian in the plane ride back to California, something that I wanted to do myself, because I enjoy these analytical challenges. I felt a bit cheated, like he could have let me earn my chops to derive it. Nevertheless, I came up with a better proof days later. Hopefully, these materials are really found - there is much hope riding on them, because their existence assumes no spin-orbit coupling, and so many materials have no spin-orbit coupling.
After a breakthrough in our physics discussions, I went off into the urban jungle, where wild dogs roam free, and attack each other, and are eaten in respectable restaurants, if they are not careful. Kat and I toured Beijing. We went to the outskirts of the Forbidden City, carefully avoiding the main tourist crowds. I hear that if you head to the center of the City, you're jumping into a river of tourists, and you just flow with the river. We weren't careful enough, and were dragged into hidden art gallery by a conniving university-student-cum-artist-cum-tour-salesman. He tried to convince us that his water paintings were beautiful, and when that failed he appealed to our compassion for his plight as a struggling university student. Nevertheless, he was charming enough that I didn't mind, and I not-so-quickly extricated myself from the gallery; Kat got stuck longer, and eventually bought a calligraphy of her name for ten yuan. We found a quiet garden in the outskirt of the city, where couples play badminton, and locals come to take their nap in the shade. Such an oasis I did not expect to find.
The last day was spent in the Summer Palace, which is dominated by the Kunming Lake - a man-made lake dug up by 100000 labourers because of the whim of an emperor. Rumours say the ground they dug up formed a small mountain next to the lake. We took Lonely Planet's suggestion and toured the lake in a human-powered pedal boat. Then climbed the most beautiful set of stairs up to the Hall of Longevity, and finally got lost in a maze of gardens at the top of the climb, where we eventually found a beautiful pond surrounded by intricate walkways. There Kat taught me to salute the sun, and I got my first taste of yoga. Eventually, I admitted to feeling self-conscious. Our yoga session had attracted a crowd of tourists who were eagerly taking pictures. Sometimes I feel Kat is oblivious to the attention she gets. In Beijing, she drew a lot of attention. 'Meiguoren!' A child shouted at her. She admits to feeling surrounded by silence, because she couldn't understand a single spoken word. What a curious feeling. In contrast, I have had many misadventures being able to understand half of what people say, and being able to communicate a quarter of what I want to say. Like staring down an all-Chinese menu and having the kind waitress explain to me what each dish means. Like being locked out of the Institute office by a stubborn security guard thrice, and being unable to complain of the injustice of it all. I will remember his face when he saw Kat and I walk through the gate the next day.
posted by Dr. Broke at 12:05 AM
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