Mary, Mary...

I've written several times how beautiful the rolling hills and countryside of Virginia are, but Maryland is proving to be no slouch in the scenery department. Located just an hour's drive from Falls Church, the Cedarville State Forest in Waldorf was a riot of fall colors and peaceful trails during the 4¼ hours I spent walking along several footpaths, covering 9.2 miles (14.8 kilometers) as I gained about 400 feet (122 meters) in elevation. My photos don't do justice to how truly beautiful it was to be walking through those woods:

The remains of an old charcoal kiln. Cedarville State Forest was a product of the New Deal, established by the Civilian Conservation Corps. The CCC unit in this area was primarily made up of African-Americans, who used kilns like the one above to produce charcoal for their work camp. The CCC was one of those socialist, deficit-generating make-work projects designed to give FDR's 47% (probably more during the Great Depression) something to do in lieu of their taking responsibility for themselves. And, of course, the CCC left us with a legacy bereft of anything worthwhile...except for three billion planted trees,  and 800 beautiful recreation areas like the one I visited today.

A toad tries to look inconspicuous. I also got a pretty clear view of two large deer as they ran through the woods.

My camera has a pretty cool "painting" effect that can be applied to photos. As an example of how technically inept I am, I didn't discover my Nikon could do this until I took this picture.

I walked through an archery range at one point. Fortunately for me, no one was doing any target practice while I out there. The forest is open for hunters, as well, though hunting isn't allowed on Sundays. I could've sworn I heard several gunshots at one point, though, and just to be on the safe side, I wore a bright orange tank top over my usual hiking shirts.

This rider was one of four people on horseback that I encountered on the trails today.

Capitolism

If you're like me (and I hope you aren't, because I don't think this world is big enough to accommodate the two of us), you've seen the US Capitol innumerable times in numerous forms of media - newspapers, magazines, books, movies, TV programs and the like. And if you're like me (though you would be crazy for wanting to be so), you're still not prepared for the sheer scale of the building as the East Front emerges into view walking along 1st Street NE from the Capitol South Metro station. My wife and daughter were just as suitably impressed by that familiar dome, topped by the State of Freedom:

It was a beautiful Saturday in the District of Columbia as we came to observe the home of Congress, which quite literally sits in the center of Washington - as my guidebook explains:

...the city quadrants extend from the building, and the numbered and lettered streets count away from its central axis.

We joined the 1 p.m. Capitol Tour, which began with a short film briefing on the history of the building and the work done by the Senate and the House of Representatives. We were next taken to the Rotunda, point zero for all of the District. The Rotunda is 180 feet (55 meters) high and 96 feet (29 meters) across, and is quite a sight to see when craning your neck to look straight up:

The fresco at the top is a rather overly-romantic depiction of George Washington surrounded by the symbols of democracy, arts, science and industry, plus thirteen women representing the original colonies. Italian artist Constantino Brumidi was clearly influenced by the works of some of his forebears from the old country:

Below the dome canopy is a frieze depicting various figures from New World history, starting with Columbus' arrival:

The floor is dominated by eight large oil paintings and a number of busts and statues of famous Yanks. Two of the paintings I recognized right away: John Trumbull's depiction of the signing of the Declaration of Independence and his portrayal of General John Burgoyne's surrender at Saratoga:

In addition to the Rotunda, our tour group was also shown the National Statuary Hall, once the chamber of the House of Representatives, and then later a farmer's market, believe it or not! In its present capacity as the National Statuary Hall, each state is allowed to display two statues of prominent residents. Not all of the statues are in the hall - others are to be found in the corridors of the rest of the Capitol building. California's current representatives are Father Junípero Serra (pictured below in the statuary hall) and Ronald Reagan, whose statue stands back in the Rotunda:

That was it for the tour. Following lunch, we checked out the Capitol Visitor Center. Photography wasn't allowed in the Exhibition Hall, but my daughter helpfully sketched out her interpretation of the 11 foot (3.4 meters)-high model of the dome:

Taking pictures was permitted in the Emancipation Hall, where the highlights include a life-sized replica of the Statue of Freedom, and well as some state statues that have been moved there due to space limitations in the Capitol building itself:

We ended our visit by taking a walk around the outside of the building. The Library of Congress beckoned from across the street, but we'll save it for another day (though you can reach the library via an underground tunnel from the Capitol Visitor Center):

The West Front is just as impressive as the East Front, though the grounds there were closed off due to some construction, presumably preparations for January 20th's Inauguration ceremony:

Amber took in the sites of the Smithsonian Castle and the Washington Monument off in the distance:

A capital city wouldn't a worthy center of government without countless numbers of statues celebrating the actions of various national heroes, like this one honoring the Civil War general (and 18th president) Ulysses S. Grant:

Five months here, and Washington has lived up to all expectations on my part so far. The story continues...at least until February.

Tongue-tied

Accotink Creek

Time was when I lived on an island far away from here that I used this blog to vent some steam, secure in the knowledge that only a handful of people were ever going to read my endless whingeing about some trifling matter or another. Now that I'm a diplomat-in-training, the realization has started to dawn that from now on, when it comes to blogging, I'm going to have to be more...er, diplomatic. Especially as one of my favorite targets is going to be my temporary abode in the near future. The result is a warmer, fuzzier and more boring blog, but there's little I can do about it. 

Take this morning, for example. On one of my favorite news sites (out of a former imperial European seafaring power), there was an article about making sense of a country by studying its language. Seeing as the county in question was the very one whose lingua franca I'm currently pulling out what little hair is left on my head in a desperate attempt to  master before departure, I took a look. Said article was one of those usual naive puff-pieces penned by Orientalists (oops) who have fallen in love with the culture, to the point that they have become blinded to certain not-so-pretty realities. Before, when I was free, I would have had a great time tearing something like this, and the person who wrote it, apart. But those days are gone. For example, when the author says...:

Why have we managed to get (Country X) so wrong? The reason is hardly rocket science. We insist on viewing it through a western prism. For the best part of two centuries, Western societies have seen themselves as the model for all others. But (Country X) isn't like us. It never has been and never will be. 

The great task facing the West over the next century will be to make sense of (Country X) - not in our terms but in theirs. We have to understand (Country X) as it is and as it has been, not project our own history, culture, institutions and values onto it. It will always fail that test. In truth such a mentality tells us more about our own arrogance and lack of curiosity than anything about (Country X).

... I wouldn't have hesitated to excoriate the writer for seemingly accepting the ridiculous assertions by the likes of former prime ministers LKY and MM that the values of the West (democratic political systems, constitutionally-protected freedoms such as speech, peaceful changes of administrations etc.) were somehow inimical to the so-called "values" of their particular homelands. I would've asked the writer if he or she thought that the value of a non-Western life was somehow worth less than that of one of their fellow citizens, and I would've then pointed out that such talk was nothing more than cynical justifications for authoritarianism and repression, dressed up in language designed to play on the guilt of persons such as our scribe. I would have also asked the author to explain why so many of Country X's citizens seemed to want to share so much of his or hers (the writer's) own country's institutions and values.

But I can't do that anymore.

A bit of Civil War railroad history

When the writer pens...:

True, (Country X) has called itself a nation-state for about a century. But 100 years is a mere pin-prick for a country that dates back over two (extremely long periods of time) . Modern (Country X) emerged in 221. By the time of the (particular name) dynasty - still more than 2,000 years ago - (Country X's) borders already closely resembled those of eastern and central (Country X) today.

...I would've enjoyed pointing out that while Country X's borders 2000 years ago may have roughly resembled Country X's current depiction on maps, those same borders have fluctuated greatly over the millennium, and of how the peoples living in those areas have not always enjoyed the benevolent hand of governance bestowed upon them by Country X's dominant ethnic group.

But those days are behind me now.

Fall is in the air

When the author writes of how a former European colony that is now back in the bosom of the motherland that is Country X is still proudly different politically and legally, I have to now resist the urge to hit back, no matter how much I would love to point out all the clumsy, heavy-handed attempts at trying to alter those very differences the writer celebrates into something more palatable that have been made by the leadership of Country X.

Stephen Foster, where art thou?

And when the writer refers to one of my former places of residence, it's all I can do to remember my training:

If (former residence) should decide at some point that its future lies with (Country X) and that it should accept (Country X's) sovereignty, I think the (people of Country X) will offer the (people of my former residence) the same deal - one country, two systems. But they will likely go further and give an undertaking that (country of former residence) can retain universal suffrage and its present multi-party system. Because what really matters to the (people of Country X) is not the system but the principle of their sovereignty. 

Must...maintain...control...I mean, how freakin' naive is this guy or girl!? Oh, if only I could provide the numerous examples, both historical and contemporaneous, that would point out how dangerously naive the above paragraph truly is. But official policy says I must not go there, and I have promised to uphold official policy.

My daughter flies through the forest

So this humble blog will continue to focus on the activities of myself and my family, like our fun outing today to Lake Accotink Park in nearby Springfield, and leave it those who are unencumbered to point out the errors and fallacies of the ill-informed. It looks like I'm going to have to wait until retirement before my curmudgeonly self can be set free again.

Little Taipei

You can take the girls out of Taiwan, but you can't take Taiwan out of the girls...at least not in Rockville, Maryland. According to the city's Wikipedia entry:

...(the) North Potomac (is) the area with the highest percentage of Chinese ancestry in any place besides California and Hawaii...

...as well as the fact that:

Rockville is widely considered to be a "Little Taipei" due to the area's high concentration of Taiwanese immigrants.

But before regaling you of our brief foray into Formosa, USA, our day today began with another slice of Americana in the form of the local volunteer fire department's annual Open House. My daughter thoroughly enjoyed herself this afternoon as she explored the fire station and its equipment, all the while weighing whether she wants to be a firefighter or a dentist when she grows up.

This antique fire engine was one of the first things we checked out after arriving at the fire station

The local sheriff's office was represented by this hog

One of the highlights of our open house visit was the tour of the inside of the fire station. The classic pole is still in use at this station, as one of the firefighters demonstrated for us. 

Amber enjoyed getting a chance to wield a fire hose. Unfortunately, her clumsy father proved to be an inept videographer, with the result being exactly two seconds of recorded imagery.

The fire station may have had a usable pole, but an actual Dalmatian couldn't be located

My video follies continued when I tried to record a demonstration of how the firefighters rescue people trapped in vehicles. I had recorded about ten minutes' worth of footage of the doors of a Saab being pulled off when the camera ran out of battery power. After a fresh change of batteries, I did manage to both get a photo of one of the doors being carted away, as well as film of the roof being pulled off.

My daughter could barely move in the firefighting suit

The day's festivities concluded with a demonstration of the ladder. It's difficult to make out in the photo above, but there is a firefighter at the very top.

After the open house, we made the short drive out to Little Taipei...er, I mean Rockville. As it was still too early for dinner when we got there, we took a walk around the downtown area. At one point, we did some shopping at Dawson's Market, an environmentally-conscious local supermarket. Here, Amber and I enjoyed a Curiosity Cola, an "orgasmically brewed carbonated cola soft drink" according to the Google search entry! 

Our raison d'etre for driving out to Rockville was to dine at Bob's Noodle 66. I've been to Taiwanese restaurants in Japan on several occasions, but this establishment was a first of its kind for me in this country:

Here's a look at the menu. Questionable historical interpretations aside, it's somewhat surprising that the English on the front was written with the same high level of language proficiency as you would find back in Taiwan:

And now to the food pics. Unfortunately, my shots aren't up to same high standards employed by the New Hampshire Bushman. Still, here goes anyway. First up is a picture of what my daughter had, the Minced Pork & Egg on Rice 滷肉飯 (lǔròu fàn):

My wife had the Pork, Mushroom Thick Soup 肉羹 (ròugēng), while I feasted on an Oyster Pancake 蚵仔煎 (é​zǐ​jiān) and a Taiwanese Hamburger 台式刈包 (táishì guà​bāo):

We all shared a vegetable dish that wasn't listed on the menu, but which is known as 空心菜 (kōng​xīn cài), while I washed it down with a papaya milkshake 木瓜牛奶 (mù​guā niú​nǎi):

Finally, the real reason why we had to drive out to Bob's Noodle 66: they had Crispy Smelled Bean Curd 臭豆腐 (chòu​dòu​fu). The stench was barely noticeable...

...which is probably a big reason why Pamela pronounced it to be "disappointing". That, in turn, means it's highly unlikely we'll be dining again at this particular establishment, for once my beloved has crossed a restaurant off her list, we can never go there again. This despite the fact I rather liked the food at Bob's Noodle 66. There is some hope, however, for Amber and me as near the restaurant is a supermarket selling a lot of Taiwanese foodstuffs. So perhaps we will make the drive out to Rockville again sometime in the future: