They only come out at night...

They only come out at night…and weekends. As night falls and darkness begins to consume the sky, I start to see them come out - one by one. Families. They fill the parks and safe street corners – daddies and little babies; mommies and their kids. There is a place near my apartment – a simple safe space in front of a bakery shop. Parents and children gather together and – oddly enough - it seems to be about this heavenly bakery shop. A bakery shop filled with cookies and cakes. Its wonderful smells fill the night air, and just like moths to a flame – the little children come. I have seen them gather in front of this shop with their little faces pressed against the glass, staring hungrily at the yummy bakery goods. Laughing and giggling while inhaling the sweet heavenly aroma. They point to their favorite items and squeal with delight. Parents sit scattered among the few provided benches watching in amusement while their kids joyfully play and covet the bakery goods. All the while, the air smells so dang good that my mouth waters. But I cannot pull myself away from the picturesque scene of happy children just to avoid temptation. And I am not alone in this struggle - one by one, the parents fall victim to their child’s plea for sweets. And one by one, they are sucked into that little heavenly place.

I had made my way to an available bench and sat down. Although, I could not understand their language – I understood them. I had watched a father who was still dressed in his work suit, kneel before his infant daughter and play obsessively with her squeaky toy. The father was having more fun than the infant. His face had hard tired lines from working too hard and too long. I recognized the wariness in him; the same wariness I see in so many people, myself included; the same wariness from believing that if I work hard enough, I will have a good life. But sometimes I realize I lost part of a good life by working too hard.

The pendulum will shift for me when I get back to the United States. But I leave so many here who will never see the flip side.  

“To be human is to laugh and to play - play is natural to us and natural to the creative process. It's only through our formal education that we begin to doubt the "seriousness" of play. When this happens, we begin to lose a bit of ourselves, including our confidence and a bit of our humanity.” ~Garr Reynolds

Lovin' it!

I was standing at the edge of our building overlooking the city and out of nowhere a butterfly comes right up to the window. It was amazing. I’m on the fourteenth floor and here is this little yellow butterfly fascinated by Microsoft. And then I realized that I am equally fascinated by Microsoft and a little sad at the same time – sad because my time here is coming to an end. I suppose it’s only right that I start the mourning process since I only have three weeks left.

Below are some pictures of where I work. It certainly is a place of amazement and wonder. I am so happy to be a part of it. 

There is so much more than these pictures show – this place is filled with unique people and energy and life. Everybody is trying to be the next big thing and create the next big idea. Just being around them is contageous and extremely motivating! Suddenly, the most complicated tasks and challenging missions seem a reality! I am a better person having been exposed to this environment.

Lovin' it!

Three Seconds

I was thinking about “glance-media” and the idea that you must capture my attention in three seconds or you lose me. The cliché, you snooze you lose really plays a role in this case. Most people would cringe at the idea that you have only three seconds to do something amazing and capture someone’s attention – I mean three seconds?? Seriously? Cringe-not…and here’s why…

In boot camp, we were forced to do things that I thought were the dumbest things; things like, fold your underwear perfectly within 10 seconds or make your bed into a flawless board within 30 seconds. So in my first few days of boot camp, when our Company Commanders initially barked the underwear folding order – I laughed but – of course – folded my underwear in the fancy impeccably-lined-edges way. Proudly, I was done in six seconds – the first one done. I immediately stood up, let out an “ah” (so everyone else knew I was the first one done) and looked around at the other seventy-nine soldiers frantically struggling to fold their underwear. As they finished, one by one they popped up to stand at attention too. I made eye-contact with the other speed –demons and we smiled at each other knowingly. We were good and now we knew who the best were. I know I know – YES I AM TALKING ABOUT UNDERWEAR FOLDING – but I was proud of my skill as the faster underwear folder. So there we stood, smug and happy, watching the last girl battle with her briefs, and time – as predicted – ran out. That girl started to weep in fear. The worst thing she could have done because fear was like catnip to our Company Commanders. Honestly, I didn’t care. It wasn’t me after all and I really didn’t know her at all but I did have the best seat in the house to watch the wrath come down on her – she was my bunk neighbor and I had front row seating or in this case – standing - to watch the hell that was about to break loose on her for not folding her underwear in those 10 precious seconds.

Hopefully, now you are starting to understand the value of a few seconds as I discovered in boot camp. I discovered that you can change your entire world in four seconds. That in four seconds you can save not only a stranger’s life but your own life as well. How utterly significant is every second…

So there I stood with all the other soldiers who successfully finished the underwear folding exercise in time and there sat the girl who failed. She just sat wide-eyed and staring as the Company Commanders quietly approached her. It was in their quietness that I felt more afraid of them then when they were screaming and throwing things and acting like rabid animals. Rabid animals I could handle – the quiet calm was worse. Worse because I didn’t know what was going to happen. So they came and stood right next to the panicked girl and very gently said, “Stand on your feet soldier.” Then for the rest of the evening – they never addressed her again. I won’t go into too many details about what followed that evening because how do you describe a worst nightmare? But I will say they put us through hell. No sleeping, no eating just plain hell. It was hours and hours of torture until our brains and bodies shut down. But the girl – the girl that failed – she didn’t have to do a thing. She was rested and safe. She never left the barracks.

By the time we returned – none of us were functioning properly. I was a zombie. But instead of food or sleep we were called to another underwear folding exercise. Again, we had 10 seconds and despite my state of oblivion, I still folded my underwear in six seconds.  But instead of standing up, instead of gloating, instead of comparing myself with someone else, I rushed to my “failed” neighbor and folded the rest of her underwear. I could hardly move my legs, barely had function of my fingers, I was weak and dizzy, but another girl and I (and many others) helped every girl that still had unfolded underwear.  We completed the task in time and we never gloated again. The failure wasn’t that one girl- the failure was everyone. 

My attention was certainly captured in terms of seconds…

There is so much power to make a difference and it can be measured in seconds. I learned a long time ago the value of just a second. Even one second has the power to change someone and alter their destiny forever.

Letting loose

Some days you just have to let your hair down – so to speak – and let loose. When your entire world gets rearranged you need a play day – or in this case – a play week J I don’t have much to say this week except that I have been working hard, learning Chinese and enjoying my time off immensely. I have four weeks left. Four weeks until I am home again…but that’s still four whole weeks away to find new adventures and meet new people and – yes – let loose – responsibly J

Rise to it!

Consequences

I consider myself a warrior. I will rise to the occasion when the occasion demands it. I consider my options and weigh the consequences. If the shoe fits – I will rise.  I say ‘if the shoe fits’ because sometimes we fight out of pride or ignorance but many of those issues are irrelevant. A bruised ego does not deserve my attention. Don’t get me wrong I am just as easily snared by pride as the next victim, but hopefully wisdom wins out in the end and once I have considered my options and weighed the consequences – a bruised ego is lowest on my totem pole for a fight.

I consider myself a warrior – not by choice but by behavior. I hate injustice and have jumped at the chance to help fight a worthy fight. I have stood by loved ones and even strangers. I have come face to face with many hardships and deep sufferings but they were always mine to carry.

So here I am in this strange new land; a land where things don’t operate according to my outline on life; an outline that clearly states the person committing an action should be the main recipient of the negative consequences. The problem with negative consequences is that some people want to bear their own and some people do not. See I can fight these important battles when I know that I will be the one who deals with my own consequences – after all, they are my costs to pay. Newton’s law of motion – to every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction. I weigh the price, the costs and the consequences for myself. But what happens when the innocent suffer for my rebellion? The weak are punished for my anger? The poor are penalized for my protests? I find myself a coward. I can’t fight these fights of injustice for fear that the blameless receptionist will suffer for my actions when all liability belongs to the manager. I can’t take a stand when I know the clerk who graciously helped me will be the one to shoulder all responsibility. I have watched over and over again the wrong person suffer for my causes. What the heck am I supposed to do now? I hesitate to even complain for fear someone else will be left with my burdens. I dare not get angry at an injustice for fear the kind old man who guided me will be someone else’s scapegoat. I can’t do it, and such a righteous anger rises up in me because I am faced with a blaring truth - that I am a coward.  I just can’t do it anymore. I just can’t.

Nor will I play judge and jury to decide what social system is right or wrong. It is what it is…when I agreed to come here, I agreed to listen and learn. I made an unspoken agreement the day I bought my plane ticket.

However – when all is said and done – I am still a fighter. So what cause will this fighter take up now? How about the battle to better my behavior, to be mindful of my actions and to guard my mouth more carefully?  Maybe I will rise to the occasion of living instead of fighting - after all my life is an occasion. As Suzanne Weyn wrote in Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, “Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.” And so I shall…

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear – not absence of fear. Mark Twain

Just enjoy the show.

Missing home.

Nothing makes you miss home more than when you are sick. In Indiana, when I was sick my mother always took care of me. Most of the time she insisted I stay at her house while she stayed busy making sure I ate and had more liquids coming in then going out. Food was plenty; the TV remote was handed to me like a princess and all my favorite things surrounded me.

Being sick in China…ugh. I guess the good news about my accommodations not being ideal is that I wanted to stay at work rather than stay at home. Staying at work means work getting done. The bad news is many of the interns are now sick L not sure I am totally responsible for that – after all someone else gave it to me first.  I know I know that sounds so blame…

Today I managed to make it to work again even though I still felt weak. I’m glad I did because our mentors had returned from TechFest and decided to take some of us out to lunch. Seriously, who can pass up a free lunch? It was a good lunch and it was nice to catch up with them and hear about their adventures at the conference.  In return, they got to hear about my weekend of sniffles and coughing.  But the best part of lunch was when I got a chance to tell our mentors about some of the interns I work with here - interns who have greatness written on their foreheads but who are too humble to see it themselves. I hope somehow I planted good seeds for their future with Microsoft. It felt good to cheer someone else on in their race of life and not be so caught up in my own – I took a mini-break from my own race.

I suppose my mini-break came and went too fast. Now I am back wondering what I am supposed to do with the rest of my life.  I know I know one step at a time and just enjoy the show J

Anything is possible!

It was one of my fellow HCI intern’s birthday. Eight of us gathered together at a restaurant around a round table where we ordered a ton of food. The food was brought out in packed plates and laid upon a round glass centerpiece that spun so all could partake of each entrée. Using our chopsticks we took bits and pieces from each dish and ate till our full. We talked and laughed and drank Chinese beer. As the night progressed our conversation turned from formal to informal. We started to open up and share the deeper parts of our struggles and hurts. I watched the Asian folk work the hardest at trying to open up and not feel shame. I watched the females bare their feminine sides – something that is hard to do in this field of mostly men. I watched the men become vulnerable before each other which I know must have been like pulling teeth. I watched something beautiful unfold – communication. Broken were the barriers that divided. Barriers like racism and chauvinism; barriers of mistrust and cultural relevance, formalities and social injustices. We were just MSRA interns – sharing our loneliness and longings for a better future. It was a perfect moment for me, like all of time suddenly stood still and the earth itself held its breath. I listened attentively to each tale and followed along on each of their sacred journeys. It truly was a perfect moment. Korean, Chinese, American, French…we found a way to communicate. I don’t just mean in English, I mean of the heart. We found that single bridge that all roads lead to…and we bonded over fish and Chinese beer.

If ever I look back over my life and wonder about my most significant moments - I will remember the little MSRA group. I will think fondly of the Chinese who were so brave to open up and be vulnerable, the French maiden who was living in an impossible situation and somehow surviving, the Korean who was desperate to find a bridge to communicate outside of 1 and 0’s, and the American - me - who just wanted to understand the way of things. By the end of the night we were stretched – not in a way that hurt but definitely in a way that changed us and somehow assured us we had a good future together. Maybe we won’t be presidents or nobles but the bond of friendship and connection that occurred was a loud declaration of an unspoken truth – that we would have peace together. A promise that somehow our countries could find a way to live together and forgive. We were flexible, adaptable and open to the truth of that moment. We were willing to accept each of our weaknesses and appreciate each of our strengths.

We didn’t solve the world’s problems that night. I didn’t try to convince anyone that my American ways were better, and they didn’t try to convince me of theirs but we found common ground where we met, ate and shared. And as each of us rise to power, I believe we will always have this time and these relationships to draw conclusions from and to build ideas upon.

By the end of the night, I just knew that we would make it –together and apart – we would be okay. I just knew that our countries could continue in peace, mutual respect and trust in one another. I just knew it was possible, because we were doing it. My little MSRA group was living proof that anything was possible.