It's tough having ovaries

It's sobering every time I think about gender equality. Yes, we've made huge strides in closing the pay gap, in abolishing discrimination in the workplace based on gender, and in creating safe spaces for women and LGBTQIA folk. But let's face it—these steps aren't enough. In some cultures, it's still a grave sin to be born a woman.

I'm reading this wonderful Korean novel by Cho Nam-yu titled Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982, and it made me realize that the battle for gender equality is far from over. Like our main character, Jiyoung, for example. She's had a tough childhood because she was born a woman in a family that has always wanted a son. Even after graduating from college, she finds it difficult to get a job interview because, yes, she's a woman. Almost everything doesn't work out for her, often making huge compromises just because of her sex. It's quite painful to read at times, especially because every circumstance is still happening in Korea.

The novel has so many footnotes pertaining to actual statistics and studies on gender equality in Korea. But they don't interfere with the narrative. In fact, they seem to strengthen the novel's main thesis. It's still a society where women need to be dolled up all the time and where men still don't give much value to them. If they feel that they're sexually harassed at the office, Korean women just have to grin and bear it. Why oh why, Korea?

Speaking of Korea, the bf and I have been thinking of going there. Next year perhaps? When the virus blows over. Besides, I don't think overseas travel is a possibility anytime soon. And lately, we've been watching Korean dramas on Netflix. Them Koreans do know how to spin a yarn. (I highly recommend "Reply 1988"!) Now if only they'd treat their women better.

We've also been cooking Korean food.
This is the bf's kimchi stew. Perfect on a rainy evening.

I used to hate kimchi.
Now, I can eat it by itself, even though it's supposed to
be a side dish. I love this aged bokchoy kimchi.

All about those plants

Let's take a break for a moment from my big Russian project for a moment, shall we? Because I want to talk to you about this book:

This book has got me hooked.
And it was a perfect read on a sunny day.
The plant in the background is Oxalis triangularis,
which is also known as false shamrock.

I've always been fascinated by plants, probably just as equally as by animals. I don't understand why many people are more interested with animals, ignoring these photosynthetic organisms and never realizing how important plants are to the ecosystem. That air we breathe? Its oxygen probably came from the Amazon rainforest. That burger patty? They're from cows whose whole life has been spent eating grass.

I still haven't finished Lab Girl though, but I am really enjoying it. I feel a certain affinity for Hope Jahren, as she's one to promote the importance of science. Scientists don't get much recognition, no? It's only now with this pandemic that we appreciate how invaluable their work is. I love how Jahren talks about how she started her laboratories. I feel her struggle. I know of a few friends who work in a laboratory, and they can attest how thankless their jobs can seem sometimes.

This is a tree from the bf's place.
Love how the sun shines through its branches
in the morning.

Jahren's passion for the study of plants really comes through in this book, which is enough to make me ponder about the plants around me. It's also made me think how fortunate that I live where there are plenty of green spaces. People always complain that our mall culture trumps our liking for parks. Unfortunately, yes, I agree. Because one, there aren't that many parks and garden in Metro Manila. It's a concrete jungle through and through. And two, the outside heat can be punishing, and malls do have air-conditioning, which is de rigueur for a tropical country.

But a well maintained garden is a treasure, and if the weather's just fine, staying in it could be the thing that gives our minds a repose. We should bathe our bodies in more greenery. I know we really need it these days, as our mental health has probably suffered because of lockdowns. To be surrounded by all these organisms—ones who take in sunlight, water, and carbon dioxide and then magically transform them to food—is blissful. To be in the company of a hundred-year-old tree is wonderful. To walk in a field of grass that's actually just one single plant is calming. That's why I love Lab Girl, because it celebrates plants and the people who study them.

The bf and I have been taking walks along the village lately.
I love these walks because trees and plants are plentiful in the
village. And it's quiet, although we do bump into a few hikers
every now and then.
Anyway, every time we pass by this house, I just have to take
a pic of this life-size brachiosaurus. So random.

Peter's Big Russian Project #1: Nikolay Gogol's Dead Souls (1)

Let's start with Gogol's novel, shall we? I know zilch about Gogol and his works, so I'm amused by the text at the back of this cover, which says that Dead Souls the greatest comedy in Russian literature. Them big words, no? So does this mean that, if I don't find this book funny at all, then there's no hope for other Russian comedic novels? So, as I'm not a big fan of setting myself up for failure, I'll erase that heavy label attached to this book and have no expectations whatsoever. One thing I'm sure though—there will be snow.

This Gogol guy, he seems a real character. When he burned the second part of the manuscript of Dead Souls, all he had to say was that it was a practical joke played upon him by the devil. Seriously. Then after that, he just chose to stay in bed and refused all food given to him. He died soon after, and as reports would have it, "in great pain." It's no surprise really, yes?

Also, remember that main character in the book/movie of The Namesake, the one played by Kal Penn? He was named Gogol because his father survived a very nasty train crash while holding a book by Gogol. This got me thinking about my name, and how I have this absurd concept in my head that my parents were reading Anna Karenina when they were pregnant with me. I would have loved to be a Vronsky or Alexei. Or even Pyotr, which is quite close to my actual name.

I just started on Dead Souls last night, and I have to say that I'm amused at how Gogol describes his character using negatives:

Seated in the britska was a gentleman – not good looking, but not uncommonly in appearance either , not overly fat, nor overly thin. You couldn't say that he was old, yet you could not say that he was overly young either. His arrival created no stir whatever in the town, and was not accompanied by anything  out of the ordinary. 

I counted 10 nots in that text, and I even didn't count the no and the nor. For some reason, this has got me excited.

Peter's Big Russian Project: An Intro

Hey, hey, hey! How is everyone? I see that it's been way, way too long since I last made a post on this blog. I didn't even make a post last year! But you know what, dear reader? I'm thinking of writing more posts soon, and let me tell you why.

Since March 15, before the country was placed on lockdown (here, it was officially called "community quarantine"), I've written a daily post on my Facebook on just about everything. While I rambled on and on in many of these posts, I think I wrote a few noteworthy ones. By noteworthy, I mean non-cringe-inducing and just a tad more coherent. I've written 78 posts in total, ending it all on 31 May, exactly two and half months since we were placed on lockdown. During that span of time, I realized how much I enjoyed writing, even though I'm not really writing for anyone else except for myself. It felt liberating.

Of course, I do would love an audience. And judging from the many comments each post received, I'd like to believe that people read what I've written and somehow picked up something from it, however trivial or inconsequential that may be. But the audience is just a bonus, if I may say so. What I really looked forward to every day was writing that post and exercising the few creative neurons that I have.

So that's why I'll be writing again, and that's why I'm doing it here on my blog. Because this blog is still mine, and I have a significant control over it. Also, does anyone still read bog blogs these days? Maybe not that many anymore, I figured. Which is perfectly fine. Which is just the way I want it to be. Because there is nothing as free-ing as writing for one's self.

Oh, and by the way, if somebody's reading this, it's also my way of introducing you to another project that I'd be undertaking—the Big Russian Project. Why? Because I love Russian novels. I love the angst, the drama, and, yes, even the snow. I also want to dispel the thinking that everyone's depressed in a Russian novel. Not everyone, mind you! Well, maybe just 75% of them characters are. So if you stick with me, I'll share my thoughts on the current Russian novel that I'm reading.

Unrelated picture of the dog bite from one of our mini pinscher.
I'd like to believe that this somehow earns me enough credibility
to talk about Russian books. Because, them Russian thugs!