Category: Traveled Places

Travel through Dance

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The American College Dance Festival Association (ACDFA) Northeast Regional conference was held at Penn State this weekend, Friday through Monday. The four-day event invited students from Pennsylvania, New York and New Jersey to break from routine and luxuriate in the shared passion of dance. This year, Bucknell University was an anxious newcomer full of excited students and faculty ready and willing join the cause. The theme of the weekend for me was travel, movement within artistic expression.

Each morning, sleepy-eyed dancers piled onto the bus at 6:40am to make the 1.5 hour trek to the expansive Penn State campus. Our schedules were filled with a series of master classes and performances by fellow undergraduate students. First Experience with Travel: driving along Route 45 in the early morning and late evenings, blended images of Amish horse-drawn buggies and fields of grain moving past the windowpane. We cradled our coffee cups and granola bars as the other dancers slept, 40 extra minutes of sugar-plum dreams.

I traveled internally. Compositional Improvisation begin on the floor: eyes closed, lower back resting solidly on the slats of varnished wood. Move your body slowly. Become a traveler within your body. Explore as a tourist, investigating the knees and shoulders and triceps as new and foreign destinations. Tap into renewed physical awareness. Pam Vail, a modern dance professor from Franklin & Marshall, provided the Second Travel Experience: moving within body awareness. How often do we acknowledge our bodies, the vessel which selflessly holds our essential organs, bones and muscles? The most unique and intimate parts of ourselves are held suspended in a living, breathing organism moving through time and space. I thanked my body for its strength and support.

Travel Experience No. 3 was traditional movement as a dancer in space. The packed room channeled Martha Graham herself in deep-seated contractions and explosions across the floor. Head up. Arms out. Our bodies moved in leaps, turns and extensions working to awaken the skin on the soles of our feet and stretch elastic tendons. Dancers dancing long to travel in this way forever.

We travel by observation. As audience members, flocks of pastel skirts, bodies in stillness, and partnering synchronicity confused and excited us. I was transported to moments of love, pain, exhaustion and power. In this way, I moved with the dancers in physical envy, the Fourth Travel Experience. I was a lonely New Yorker, a cocky businessman, a young peasant girl. Art gives us the ability to travel effortlessly through time and place through other’s visions and ideas. Great dance embodies the most basic of human emotion without masks, frills or disguise. It is recognized by a universality of human connection. 

So travel, combined with PB&J sandwiches, handfuls of trail mix, and short naps during intermission summed up my ACDFA experience. I was part of a collective identity known as “dancer” and offered my own pointed feet and rotated hips to the organic community. And while my time as a college dancer is coming to an end, the love of dance and travel only grows.

From Japan to Egypt

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When one bubble bursts, another is just waiting to go sailing up into the sky. 

For those of you who read my last blog, you are aware of my recent life goal to get one of the free airplane tickets distributed by the Japanese tourism bureau. If you read my comments in addition to my blog, you are already aware that the offer to attract 10,000 lucky bloggers has BEEN CANCELED. That’s right folks. My bubble has been popped.

I learned of these unfortunate circumstances from a fellow blogger JD Japan who kindly wrote:

“Sorry to burst your bubble but I’ve read that they’ve cancelled this offer almost a month ago. Don’t give up your life ambition to go to Japan just because you can’t get a free ticket though. My friend and I were very disappointed as well when we read this article but that’s not going to stop us going there this year!” along with the link announcing the cancellation.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. A month ago it seemed as if the seven Japanese gods themselves were beckoning me to the “homeland” to wake up and find their godlike favor revoked. The Katelyn-goes-to-Japan fund is currently accepting generous donations.

Another bubble was popped last night in the form of an e-mail from the director of the Davis Projects for Peace initiative on campus. Projects for Peace was started by international philanthropist Kathryn W. David and provides $10,000 to college students with project ideas for peaceful initiatives across the world. Unfortunately, I was under the false impression that the deadline for project and proposed budget submissions were due on the 31st instead of the 23rd so I had less than 12 hours to formulate my idea. While my project to build a small library with donated books in a Philippine fishing village was not chosen, the selected committee was very supportive and provided the project with great feedback should I apply next year. Trial and tribulations of a graduating senior.

Now I have set my sights on another program located in a distinctly different climate, known more for pyramids and deserts than sushi or white sand beaches. While Las Vegas is a close second, I’m talking about Presidential Scholars Program at The American University in Cairo, Egypt– a one-year fellowship opportunity for graduating seniors from US colleges and universities. The program was listed on the BRIDGE, our university’s online database for internships and jobs. I stumbled upon it quite accidentally, as do many students who are not consciously looking to spend a year in northern Africa. As an applicant, you are required to rank three of the seven available positions at the university including Office of the President, Office of Development and (my personal favorite) the Desert Development Center focused on creating sustainable livelihood projects for Egypt’s desert communities. It’s different from ANYTHING I saw myself upon graduation and the application is due January 31st. Time to get a move on.

Life is nothing more than sending a finite number of bubbles into the universe. Some perfectly formed spheres find their way onto sharp tree branches and shiny needle points but others grow, unencumbered by gravity, and float their way to new heights. I say create bubbles early and often because the world can’t possibly pop them all.

New Life Goal: Free Trip to Japan

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In an attempt to boost tourism, Japan will be offering 10,000 free airplane tickets to lucky travelers from across the world. The program is rumored to begin in April 2012 in order to generate the tourism economy currently suffering from the recent earthquake and nuclear power disaster less than a year ago. The catch? Each ticket recipient must blog about his or her travel experience for the duration of the stay. Bloggers with a strong following and those capable of encouraging others to visit the wealthy island nation are encouraged to apply.

Am I one of those highly influential bloggers the Japanese tourism industry is looking for? Probably not. But my life’s new ambition is to receive one of the 10,000 magical boarding passes. Like Charlie, I will buy as many chocolate candy bars as possible to increase my chances of winning a “golden ticket” to the land of the Rising Sun. Since neither of my uncles had children of their own, I represent the final generation of individuals who bear the family name Tsukada. My name is more Japanese than any other part of my life and I want to learn everything I can about it’s origin and history.

In the two times I have traveled to Japan in the past, my combined visits totaled less than four hours. Both to and from the Philippines, I remained behind the thick glass windows of the Tokyo airport munching on green tea Kit-Kats and picturing the world outside. It was with reluctance that I boarded my connecting flight, whispering I’ll be back, before the island archipelago disappeared from view.

As a Japanese-American, I am constantly reminded of my identity and cultural heritage. Strangers I meet for the first time often ask me where I am from or what my ethnicity is. Many want to know if I can speak Japanese and make sushi on a regular basis. I want to tell them, “I’m as Asian as you!” but I simply say, “No, I am the fourth generation born in the United States. My father didn’t speak the language but I do hope to learn more about my culture in the future.” Nobody wants to know if I can speak Italian or have ever traveled to southern Italy, the home of my mom’s grandparents. So as long as I look Asian, I might as well learn as much about Japan as possible. 

I wonder if Japanese citizens will notice the slant of my eyes and color of my hair. Will they be able to tell I am half-Japanese? It’s hard to say and my distinctly American accent will not help me blend in. Even if I don’t win one of those free tickets to Japan, it is a future destination that comes ahead of most places in the world. So I’ll brush up on my chopstick skills, practice the correct pronunciation of Konichiwa, and hope for the best.

The Last Real Winter Break

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I bought a plane ticket about a week ago. Destination: San Francisco, the home of the Golden Gate Bridge, cable cars and the oldest Chinatown in the county. A city where the weather is a solid 60˚F, a welcome change from the upstate New York chill. 

 My loose itinerary includes visiting with family in Vallejo and spending the remaining time in and around Palo Alto, home to Facebook headquarters and Stanford University. I’ll have the chance to meet up with a couple of friends including Hallie, one of my freshmen year roommates and an incredible water polo player. I’ll also get to see my friend Doug, a current law student and friend from my DC internship two summers ago. The city is new, the ocean is near and I couldn’t be more excited.

People: “Why are you going to San Francisco?”

Me: “I’ve never been there before.”

 People: (polite giggle.) “Well that’s a reason.”

And it is.

 My trip will complete a time fondly referred to as “college winter break”. A year from now, I won’t have the luxury of five weeks off without any responsibilities except for an occasional load of laundry and marathons of How I Met Your Mother. The working world not does feel it necessary to provide you with a long restful December/January break. I’ll miss you dear winter hiatus.

Here’s the travel Catch-22. Now, when I am young and ready to see the world, my wallet is empty and there is a great need to prove (to my parents) that four years of expensive college tuition was well worth the time and money. Many of my friends and soon-to-be college graduates are finding jobs and figuring out their daily work schedules in the real world. But after years of hard work and growing salaries, will any of us have the vacation days or personal freedom to dedicate to days or weeks of adventurous travel?

In my mind, waiting until I have loads of money before planning any new trip is futile. For one, I will probably never have loads of money. But more importantly, I can afford to plan cheap and save up if it means I’m seeing the world and having fun. Is holding a job important? Absolutely. But it’s far too easy to fall into a routine where the next travel opportunity is like the horizon–always there but out of reach.

 So long New York. San Francisco, here I come!

Blog Life: 2011 in Review

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The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,400 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

NYC for the Holidays

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The Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center is big. Like really big. An emblem of nature in the concrete jungle of New York City. I wonder if the evergreen feels out of place, like King Kong atop the Empire State building looking out at the sea of miniature bodies and automobiles winding through towers of business and stature. The tree stands in the name of tradition, for tourists and locals alike, who bustle past for last minute sales and ice skate with their loves ones’ under the golden statues.

Finals ended on Wednesday. After handing in my last exam, I jumped in the car with Jen and sped northwest from the small town of Lewisburg, PA to one of the largest cities in the world. My weekend was filled with holiday reminders: holiday shopping booths in Grand Central and Columbus Circle, Macy’s window displays, caroling Salvation Army volunteers with bells and hats. It was impossible not to get caught up in hussel and bussle of the city’s energy, counting down the days until December 25th. If only it was snowing…

But I felt a special connection to the traditional Norway spruce, strung with 30,000 environmentally friendly LED lights and illuminated for all to see. For one, this year’s 2011 tree was found and transported from Mifflinburg, Pennsylvania just 15 minutes from my college hometown. Both of us had traveled from the Keystone State all the way to the center of New York City to officially bring in the holiday festivities. We traveled separately but ended up at the same location, one by choice and one by fate. Which was which I wasn’t sure.

The tree also symbolized my own relationship with NYC, my simultaneous admiration for and apprehension of permanent growth and development in this urban environment. How many of my friends had moved or were moving here after college graduation? How many had dreams of becoming corporate business women, successful actor or fashionistas frequenting exclusive parties and meeting influential people in this very city? I wondered how similar I was to this beacon of holiday cheer, a being temporarily blinded by the brilliance of the city silently longing for a place to stretch my roots in an unknown world. The tree’s life in Rockefeller Center would be little more than a month–not enough time to grow a new ring around it’s grainy wooden center. But what a way to go. Loved and admired by millions of people everyday. If everyone’s last moments could be that grand.

I’m home now in upstate New York, baking gingerbread cookies and listening to Mariah’s holiday station on Pandora. Our family tree, while much smaller than it’s NYC brother, is covered in lights, tinsel, and ornaments. The branches will soon provide a home for boxes covered in bright shiny bows and bags with snowmen and smiling Santa faces. I’m knitting again, this time a dark green scarf that I hope to have done for a gift just in time. Time to be home for the holidays.

Philippines as “wish list of every diver”

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Now that I’m back in Pennsylvania, bundling up against the autumn chill, white sand beaches and sea turtles are a distant memory. The days of shorts, humid weather, and dive boats are replaced with orange-red leaves and crisp blue skies without a cloud in sight. So when PADI scuba certification send me an e-mail, I was jolted back to my summertime diving experiences and had to restrain myself from jumping on kayak.com and buying a ticket to Manila.

With amazing levels of biodiversity, an UNESCO World Heritage Site, and multiple ship wreck dive spots, it’s hard not to view the Philippines as anything but an underwater paradise. Check it out! Philippines Scuba Diving

My Filipina friend Anna told me she went to Cancun for the Climate Conference and managed to schedule one or two dives in-between meetings and nights exploring Mexico. The dive master asked where everyone was from and when Anna said the Philippines, he shook his head and told her not to be disappointed. Cancun’s underwater life just couldn’t compare to her home country.

I was speaking with a friend at school and the subject of diving came up. “Are you a diver too?” Beth asked. “Oh my god. I love it. My dad’s been diving for years.” The unspoken attachment I feel upon meeting another diver surprises me. It’s a recreational activity like a number of others and yet there is something different. Something more. Because sinking beneath the surface into an underwater world is like opening the doors of the wardrobe and entering Narnia. Everything you knew about physics, magic, and beauty is redefined. And like Narnia, we cannot exist in that world forever. We buckle up, deflate, are weighed down, and breathe deep just to  glimpse the realm of the fish and corals beneath flippers suspended in blue abyss. Time seems to slow and stop completely but the bubbles escaping from our masks serve as reminders that we do not belong in this new and vibrant paradise. Our home floats feet above our heads but for many divers, heaven lies below.

Provisional Results Name PPUR as New 7th Wonder!

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A big thank you to everyone who voted for the Puerto Princesa Underground River!

On Friday, the provisional results for the New 7 Wonders of Nature were announced. The seven winners are:

  • The Amazon, South America
  • Ha Long Bay, Vietnam
  • Iguazú Falls, Brazil/Argentina
  • Jeju Island, South Korea
  • Komodo National Park, Indonesia
  • Table Mountain, South Africa and…
  • Puerto Princesa Subterranean River, Philippines!!!!!
This is an incredible achievement for the underground river as well as the Philippines as a nation. Final results will be announced early next year and we can only hope that the Philippines remains one of the seven lucky finalists. Each of these beautiful natural wonders deserve recognition and many countries are setting up travel opportunities in anticipation of increased tourism activity and global attention. Perhaps this honor will also encourage countries who were runners-up to preserve and maintain their natural wonders sustainably, which will benefit future generations for years to come.
 

To read about the winners and see pictures go to Yahoo! and CNN.

Thank you!

 

International Sandwich Day

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Since this blog originated with countries and cultural differences, i thought I would attach a quick link that combines two of my favorite things: food and travel. National Geographic twitter (@NatGeo) always posts fun links and who knew it was International Sandwich Day?

Senior in College

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It’s raining today in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania. A slow and steady rain that knocks against the leaves outside my bedroom window. The weather is still warm and muggy and I’m reminded of the Philippines weather during rainy season. My summer experience feels so far away.

Being back at college for my final year is wonderful. My five girlfriends and I have moved into our new house, nicknamed Blue Crumbles, and are slowly learning to cook dinner, take out the trash and wait in line for the single shower. My room is the biggest room I’ve ever had and I feel like I’m coming home every time I climb the stairs and open the first door on the left. There is a sense of freedom gained from living off campus, a sense that life is slowing down and waiting for you to catch your breath. And that’s the catch. Life isn’t waiting, isn’t looking behind with an outstretched hand. Life is sprinting full speed ahead and you close your eyes hoping you’re moving in the right direction.

I could write about my first desperate attempt to cook dinner which resulted in the blandest eggplant dish known to mankind. I could detail the hours of sorority practice and conversations for recruitment in order to snag the best pledge (we did). Or the last Dance Company auditions I would watch, multiple attempts to begin my thesis and grabbing lunch with friends I haven’t seen since sophomore year. My last two weeks have been great but the words end and last continue to creep into my brain, a shadow of self-doubt about the future that lies ahead.

I took my senior pictures last week and got through most of the fake half-smiles before realizing the reason for the pictures. Wearing a cap and gown and posing with the tasselled hat against my chest I felt strange and confused. Later in the week I sat in my first 3-hour LSAT prep class and thought about the step after the preparation, after taking the test. Law school. Do I want to be an attorney? I can’t even decide what I want to make for dinner let alone the next three years. And considering I signed up 3 days after the deadline and have to drive 40 minutes to the test site I would say I have long-term planning issues.

So my blog is not going to turn into senior year quibbles but I needed a chance to say my future is fuzzy. And how that can be daunting at times, the way the night sky looks when the blackness extends outward into space. But I can only live one day at a time and today was a pretty good day.