Nike+ Human Race

El Colibri, Cordoba, Argentina -- I woke up this morning around 8:30am, puttered about a bit, ate a Dulce de Leche Luna bar before heading out to run 10K for the Nike+ Human Race. Unfortunately, I had to run it alone, because EO, who was supposed to be running it with me, had to cut his trip short and head by to Hong Kong after injuring his knee coming off a chairlift on Cerro Catedral. It was a very windy morning. I had to run circles around the estate's two polo fields just so I could be assured that I could run one side of the polo field in the direction of the wind rather than constantly running into the wind, which was really hard work with dust flying in my face. At times, the wind was raging so loudly that I could barely hear the music piping through my earphones. In the end, I ran the 10K in 1h01.

It was my first 10K "race" and it was amazing to be running it in a beautiful country so far from home, which I am visiting for the first time.

Beautiful Bariloche

"You can't always get what you want...," but as the Stones song goes, "if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need." That was the case in Bariloche.

For several summers, EO and I had been talking about skiing in Bariloche. Each summer, as August neared, our plans for one reason or another would have to be cancelled. Finally, we made it to Bariloche last Sunday. By Sunday afternoon, we were on the slopes of Cerro Catedral with M, EO's snowboard instructor. We went up the first six-person chairlift and found conditions much more promising than at the base, where the weather was mild and the snow hardly visible on the ground. Coming off the second chairlift at the top, EO fell funny on his knee. He was in pain, so he and M took the chairlift back down while I skied back down. That, in itself, was quite the adventure. I learned that there is always a good reason why pistes are closed. And when they are, it's best not to tempt fate by going down them. Despite the ski that turned into a hike in ski boots, complete with a wade across a bubbling brook, I made it back down to the base to find EO in the clinic getting his knee X-rayed. Fortunately, nothing was broken. It's very reassuring to have doctors be able to communicate to you in your own language and to see that ibuprofen is ibuprofen here as well.

So I only managed to ski for 2 hours during my whole time in Bariloche. What did I end up doing for the remaining 3 days? I was staying at the blissful Aldebaran. It was like being at home, warm and comfortable. I never locked my room door, left my laptop in the TV room whenever I went out for lunches and dinner. The rest of the time, I'd be sitting on the sofa or in the breakfast room writing on my laptop (yes, there was wifi). I finally managed to finish something I had avoided for way too long. It had been my goal to complete it on this trip. And finally, I had the perfect opportunity and the most beautiful setting in which to do it. Now I can enjoy the second half of my trip without the spectre of it hanging over my head.

Aldebaran is a wonderful place. Sure there's Llao Llao, which is the grande dame (and feels like it too) of Bariloche and Design Suites, which aims to be the cool kid on the block. But Aldebaran, built 2 years ago by ET, a retired lawyer, is hospitable beyond words, offering the experience of your very own secluded retreat. One night, unable to get a DVD to play the English audio track at 11pm, the receptionist on duty actually called back another member of staff, who had just gone home, to help. And she had to get up early the next morning to go to modelling school and come to work afterwards. All the staff were incredibly helpful and friendly in that casual, almost familial way.




Design Suites

Llao Llao


I had lunch at Pire-Hue (the only ski-in, ski-out luxury lodge at the base of Cerro Caterdral), Design Suites and Llao Llao and dinner at El Patacon. All the meals were competent, but none particularly memorable. In fact, menus seemed quite similar. Quite a few menus featured pumpkin soup, mushroom risotto, trout with ratatouille and, the most interesting item of all, chicken chop suey! But there was always one thing on the menu that I would always look forward to -- dulce de leche. This pancake filled with dulce de leche at El Patacon was one of my faves in Bariloche:

My search for the best dulce de leche dessert continues in Buenos Aires and Cordoba...

The Argentine Adventure Begins: first stop Correo Argentino!

For three years, I've been planning a ski trip to Argentina and each summer, for one reason or another, the trip had been cancelled. Finally, I landed in Buenos Aires yesterday. Packing for my month long travels between summer and winter destinations, with ski gear and riding gear, casual wear and formal wear (2nd to last stop is a wedding in Monte Carlo), had been a bit of a production. I finally settled on shipping ahead my luggage for the Argentina trip, which consisted of winter wear, ski and riding gear, to Legado Mitico, my first hotel in Buenos Aires. I had shipped my bags via Speedpost on 11 August and they had arrived Argentina 3 days later and the last time I checked the tracking system, they were pending customs inspection, so I didn't think anything of it.

Imagine my panic when I checked into the hotel to find my luggage was nowhere to be found! All I had in tow were my laptop, gadgets, samples of Little Cream Book, reading material, toiletries and the clothes I was wearing. And of course, my American Express card ;-). After the hotel made a phone call to Correo Argentino, they found out that my luggage was sitting in the main receiving center for international packages downtown (fortunately, it was not at the airport!). After a quick bite at Bartok Bar (I went in because I saw they served Segafredo coffee, but even better was the free wifi) on Costa Rica, I headed to Correo Argentino.

I arrived in the reception area to find it a bit of a zoo. All the seats were taken and there were many more people standing around, waiting. It took me a few minutes to work out the "system". First, take a number, like when you're at the butcher shop. Then, you wait for your number to be called. Fortunately, with years spent growing up in Arizona, I at least knew my numbers in Spanish. When I arrived, they were on 20-something. I had pulled a 61. An hour later, I walked up to the counter and handed them my tracking number. They wrote down my passport details and told me to wait again while they located my packages. After another half an hour, they called my name and handed me a slip for one bag with another number. But then I showed them that I had two tracking numbers for two bags. And so I had to wait again, for another half an hour while they located the second bag and handed me a second slip with another number.

I gathered that I would have to move into the larger waiting room. It's funny, I saw the sign for the waiting room: Esperar. And I found it ironic that it made me think of "hope", because in French, the conjugation for hope (espoir) in the formal you form is espérez, which sounds a bit like esperar. Later, I found out that the Spanish word for hope is esperanza. Thinking about it, the linguistic linkage makes sense, without hope, one would not wait for anything. And there I was, waiting and hoping for them to call my numbers, hoping for my luggage to be in good shape, hoping they wouldn't charge me some exhorbitent duty on a bunch of old clothes.

The post office closes at 6pm. I was in the final group, all the remaining people who had not yet been called. I had two bags packed inside two, 20kg boxes. There was no way I'd be able to walk out of the post office with two gigantic boxes, so after a lot of gesturing, I grabbed one of the retractable blades off a counter to puzzled looks. They finally understood that I wanted to open my boxes and a kindly, white-haired gentlemen sliced through the boxes in seconds. With much relief and glee, I grabbed my bags and headed back to the hotel.

So now I feel right at home in Buenos Aires. I've been to a post office, a farmacia and know to look for "Banelco" signs (Banelco is the name for the Argentinian ATM network like PLUS or Cirrus) when in need of an ATM (although it took stops at three banks before I found one that worked. To my delight, the first bank I spotted was an HSBC, but then imagine my disappointment when I found the ATMs under maintenance). I'm writing this over a breakfast of dulce de leche liberally slathered on a slice of wholewheat toast, enjoying the sunshine. So far, it's been a great start to my Argentine adventure!

Brooklyn: Eric Hibit Studio Visit

Spontaneity. That's a word that cropped up quite a bit in conversation with artist Eric Hibit. How we came to meet was definitely spontaneous, the kind that online communication mediums can now create.

It was Thursday afternoon (I had only just arrived NY the night before) and I was sitting in a Starbucks tapping away on my computer. As it was the first time since landing that I had managed to get online, I changed the status in my gmail chat to read: Winnie is in NYC. A little over an hour later, I receive an email from Eric: "I see you are in New York - If you'd like to drop by the studio and say hi, I am conveniently located in DUMBO Brooklyn." I saw that Eric was online and immediately messaged him to accept and thank him for his kind invitation. I've never been to Brooklyn, so was quite excited by the prospect of venturing across the bridge.

So on Saturday evening, AL and I drove over to Brooklyn. DUMBO turned out to be a very cool area, a bit like the SoHo of decades past when it was still edgy. It was a shame that I arrived at a time when all the shops were shut. After a 6-storey hike up the stairs, we arrived at Eric's very neat studio (my picture of a messy artist's studio was once again proven to be more fictional than fact).

I had first come across Eric's quirky works on paper at the Scope NYC fair back in March. Since then, we had been in correspondence about including him in our upcoming Little Cream Book: Inspiration. I always find it fascinating and informative to meet artists. Talking to them and seeing the environment in which they work often provides a richer context to view their works.

Eric with a beautiful view of the Brooklyn Bridge from his studio window. He's a nocturnal artist, often working till 3am.

One of the first things I love checking out in people's homes, offices or studios. Eric's shelves were filled with books on psychology, Buddhism, Kabbalah and other artsists' monographs.

I thought this was his meditation space, but it's actually the one pictured below.

My favourite Eric quote of the evening (he picked it up from someone else's work): Total freedom is constraining. He was talking about the fact that inspiration, for him, requires both spontaneity and structure. But for some reason, it made me think of meditation. Perhaps because I've never achieved that thoughtlessness state. Eric says he usually meditates on the sound of his own breathing.

Eric's ideas box

One of Eric's work on paper with his signature dotted background. He said it took him a while to find his medium. But now that he's found it, the inspiration for his works is endless.

Beijing Brand Borrowing

OK, I know it's not very PC to rag on Beijing right now, especially since they did a spectacularly impressive job with the Olympics opening ceremony last Friday. Zhang Yimou and Cai Guoqiang really outdid themselves, as did every single person involved (absolutely loved the drummers counting down). But this photo shows that China still has a long way to go in terms of brand-building. And this shop was right by the Adidas (Impossible is Nothing) and Nike (swoosh logo) shops! I have to say though, the company founder's torch-lighting performance was awe-inspiring and definitely a huge PR coup over his competitors.

Li-Ning shop in Beijing. (Thanks to BL for the pic.)

As I write, just learnt that Michael Phelps nailed his third gold medal with another world record-breaking swim. Go Phelps! Just 5 more to go...

Little Cream Book @ Facebook: Let the Weekly Games Begin!

We've just created a Little Cream Book group on Facebook. Join the group and play in our weekly competition for a prize!

Every Tuesday, we will post a question in our Facebook group's Discussion Board. The answer can be found within this website, most likely within this blog. Reply with the correct answer plus your own corresponding travel address before the deadline for a chance to win. The officers of the group will then select 5 winners each week based on the accuracy of the answer and the merit of your tip (yes, it's a bit subjective. basically, we're looking for coolness, interesting finds, quality...you get the idea). Winners will be posted in the discussion thread on the same day the next question is posted.

And what are we giving away? A Little Cream Book of your choice. Now isn't that just cream!

Here's this week's question:

INAUGURAL GAME: RUNNING AROUND THE BIG APPLE

No, I'm not referring to the big Apple that produces our beloved iPhones, I'm talking about New York City where I'll be for a week as of next Wednesday.

QUESTION: Is New York City an official race city for the Nike+ Human Race?

TRAVEL ADDRESS: Give us your favourite sports-related address in NYC (can be a gym, a personal trainer, a boutique selling cool sports gear, etc.). Addresses must include name of establishment or person and the corresponding website OR a valid telephone number (yes, we will check!).

DEADLINE: Post answers to the facebook discussion thread by 5pm on 11 August 2008 (Monday).

Head Fakes and Shining Eyes

As a writer, I sometimes get stuck. I know what I want to say, but I can't quite get it right. It helps to walk away and do something else. Oftentimes, in the process of doing something else, the light bulb switches on.

I have been thinking about teachers this past week brought on by Randy Pausch's passing (if you haven't seen it already, his "Last Lecture" is worth an hour of your life) as well as my own run-ins with head fake teachers. I first heard the term head fake learning in Pausch's lecture. It refers to indirect learning. In other words, we don't learn to play football just to learn how to throw a ball. We learn about "teamwork, sportsmanship, perserverance etc. etc.".

Boxing has been a great head fake learning experience. I had an amazingly gratifying boxing session yesterday morning. I remember my first class was such a disaster that I walked away thinking I hated boxing and would never do it again (there it is; never say never!). I was incredibly uncoordinated and definitely looked very silly. But then, the whole point of learning is to become good at something we're not. So I signed up with a trainer, and by the second session, I was hooked. Yesterday, AB said something very enlightening: "I became a much better boxer the moment I stopped trying to block everything." Of course, I didn't understand. Who wants to be hit? But his point was that it's very tiring to block everything. It's much more effective to "turtle-up", let the punches land on the gloves, tire out the opponent and then strike back. And it occurred to me that was a great strategy both in and outside of the ring.

So I had wanted to write a post about head fake teachers and how it's a shame that our classrooms aren't filled with more head fake teachers. I've had the good fortune to have had quite a few such teachers. But most were teachers of gifted programs, and I believe that every student deserves to have the same rich and wonderful learning experience. Because once a student encounters a head fake teacher in the classroom, he will recognise head fake learning opportunities everywhere.

I remember one teacher who posed us the Konigsberg bridge problem and asked us to work out the solution (i.e how to cross all 7 bridges only once, without back-tracking). We weren't in a mathematics class and we were nowhere near learning anything about topology, but the experience was so engaging that I still remember the problem. She wasn't teaching us about mathematics, she was teaching us the value of asking questions and how curiosity about mundane, everyday things (in this case, bridges that the people of Konigsberg crossed every day) could lead to important breakthroughs. And that in looking for the solution to one problem, we might end up answering entirely different questions altogether, questions we didn't even know we had. For many years, I had an excitement for mathematics and science and the possibilities they opened up. There was elegance and beauty as well. But then I met Katrin and Robert Burlin, two wonderful English professors, who opened up another world of wonderful possibilities.

Which brings me back to the beginning of this post. I had written a bit about head fake teachers yesterday, but I felt the post didn't quite convey the passion for life that these head fake teachers actually instill in their students. So I left the post (also because I also had to go to dinner). This morning, on my way to the gym, as I often do, I looked for a TED Talk to watch. Of the 15 or so TED Talks that I could have chosen, I picked one who title started "Classical Music With..." (because the iPhone doesn't show the whole title). I thought it would be a relaxing performance that I could shut my eyes to. Instead of shutting my eyes, I got shining eyes instead:



As with most Asian kids, I was made to take piano lessons. And I suffered through the boredom of practicing scales and pieces that meant nothing to me. If only my piano teachers taught me about one-buttock playing!

Too often, kids are told that they're not good, or good enough at something and they should move on and focus on what they happen to be good at. What they really need, though, is a head fake teacher who can get their eyes to shine. Then, they will learn the most important lesson of all -- they, themselves, possess the ability to create their own world of possibilities.

Nike+ Human Race: Running for UN Refugee Agency

I was inspired to join the human race today. That is, the Nike+ 10K Human Race. I saw a poster for it the other day in Vancouver (one of the official race cities) as I walked past the Nike Shop on Robson, on my way to the Lululemon shop. After a gorgeous, leisurely 10K run along Falls Creek into Stanley Park today, I decided to sign up. While there are official races in 25 cities around the world, any runner (with the Nike+ running gear, of course) can join the race and run the 10K from anywhere around the world. As fate would have it, I will be running somewhere I'm visiting for the first time: Cordoba, Argentina (incidentally, Buenos Aires, New York City, Seoul, Mount Fuji, Shanghai, Singpore and Taipei are a few of the 25 official race cities). No doubt, it'll be a memorable run. The idea was just too cool, and too good, to resist.

Based on runners' charity choice, their training miles run on Nike+ gear and on race day, Nike will determine how much it donates to each of these three charities: The UN Refugee Agency, Lance Armstrong Foundation and WWF. Runners can also ask family and friends to sponsor their training miles, raising more money for their selected charity.

I've pledged to run 100 miles between now and race day on 31 August 2008 in aid of The UN Refugee Agency. Click here to sponsor me and help support their work to ensure that refugee children around the world get access to education, sport and technology!