GREAT SUBTITLES OF ASIA

As I have mentioned before, one of the delights of foreign films can be the subtitles.

Here's a clip from Song Il-Guk's drama, The Kingdom of the Winds, the one where he plays his own grandson (i.e., Jumong's grandson); the great subtitle is at 15 seconds in.

Now I know how to say "Arrrrggggghhhh" in Korean. Otherwise I would never have understood this scene!

And above, at right, like grandfather, like grandson.

LETTING GO OF Go!

The aspiring Taoist in me is trying to let go of the rage over the debacle of Sunday night's cancelled return red-eye flight on Go!, the pesky upstart airline that is held by local folks partly culpable in the death of Aloha, a tradition in inter-island travel. (Although I probably won't fully let it go until I send a letter of protest to the airline, not the sort of thing I usually do, but feel compelled to now.)

It's a tough business, and Aloha was in trouble anyway, the yin or yang, who knows, of a classic Hawaii duopoly. But when cheap flights on small equipment became available, along with some possibly shady business strategizing on the mainland-based carrier's part, Aloha eventually collapsed and the new player in the duopoly was Go! (It's like a board game on tarmac.)

Over the past several years, I flew a couple of the new neighbor island routes, partly because I enjoy the smaller planes, and there is a tropical retro-feel to boarding after walking out on the tarmac instead of marching down a jetway.

Now that I think of it, other places I have enjoyed that unique feeling were Palm Springs and the now defunct Kai Tak airport in Hong Kong where you might disembark a 747 on the runway pretty much in the middle of town. It's more organic, not so homogenized...all jetways are the same, but to be actually out on the ground with the plane stirs my Sagittarian blood.

So for this trip I didn't think to choose the bigger player and even older tradition than Aloha, Hawaiian, opting for the smaller commuter terminal and timing that was convenient for my weekend jaunt to Maui, looking forward to a private film festival with my friend. (She usually has a stack of DVDs for us and her tastes are a little different than mine: she likes British romantic comedies with a twist, and Tim Burton. They're always fun.)

The weekend was over too soon, and my friend delivered me at 8 p.m. to Kahului for my 9 p.m. 20-minute flight back to Honolulu. There was no line at the Go! counter when I tried to check in; I was informed the flight, the last of the night, had been cancelled. I should wait over on some benches while they figured out what to do; she would come and get me. The agent let it slip that there were only 12 persons booked; they had to wait to see if they could get 30 for a flight. Something was up and I think she probably shouldn't have told me that. (It smells illegal. But I haven't read the mouseprint on my reservation.)

I set myself up on the outdoor bench, under a 100% full moon, sent an email and watched part of a Jumong episode on my iPad. At about ten to nine, I thought I might go see if anything was happening. Would they have a plane? Would they put me on a Hawaiian flight? What?

At the counter, the rest of the dozen passengers were gathered (the agent had not come to get me), all in a dangerous mood of rage and resignation. The agent announced the flight was indeed cancelled but they were doing all they could to accommodate us. Which wasn't much. The agents were about as accommodating as the Han emperor when Puyo needed assistance. WWJD? (What Would Jumong Do?)

"You can get a refund and then go find another flight (at 9 p.m. in Kahului) or I can book you for the morning." Someone pointed out, not so politely, that the airline had made no attempt to alert anyone when they KNEW the flight was cancelled (apparently at 7 p.m.); they made no attempt to assist in other arrangements for flight or hotel arrangements. We were advised if we weren't happy, we could write to the head office and "try to get a free round trip or something." WE could try??? This is customer dis-service.

I decided to call my friend, opting to enjoy one more gin and tonic and some more talk, and leave in the morning. I had to cancel a Monday morning doctor's appointment, but no big deal really. (Although that entailed its own struggle with automated messaging...I may have left an obscene muttering on the answering machine when I had trouble navigating the menu with my cell phone.) But I felt bad for the woman who had to return home Sunday to pick up her child from a baby sitter; another woman who had to go to work on Oahu that night;a tourist couple who had already checked out of their hotel and returned their rental car. Maui at night can be desolate and the airport actually closes after midnight.

As the group got more and more emotional --even I complained loudly about the lack of Aloha spirit on the part of the airline that actually wanted to use that name--an airport security officer, a cop, arrived to hover around the 12 angry men and women.

One person opted to take the suggested 8 a.m. flight out

"Well, you 'll have to come in before 7; we'll put you on standby, it's fully booked." WTF??

Several of us waited while others' refunds were processed; I don't know how those folks, some with children, got home. I opted for the open 10:30 a.m flight so my friend wouldn't have to fight the early morning traffic. (There IS a rush hour on laid-back Maui.)

My friend came back to the airport, fortunately from Kihei, just a few miles away, and not, say, very distant Lahaina or remote Hana. We went back to enjoy the full moon from her lanai. "I knew we hadn't had a proper goodbye when I dropped you off," she said.

Next morning, I arrived in plenty of time, about 9 a.m. for the 10:30 flight. I had to be assertive about my checked bag--the only "accommodation" the airline had made for us was to waive the $10/bag charge for us who were inconvenienced (after someone demanded that courtesy), but I had to remind the ticket agent who then had to get manager approval. (I wouldn't have checked the bag except that I'd bought a large jar of expensive and presumably dangerous body butter that wouldn't have made it through TSA security.) Then I settled in at the gate, enjoying free wifi to watch YouTube videos of Vincent Zhao kicking his way through the new airport in Hong Kong, when, despite my noise-isolating earbuds, I heard the announcement.

"Go! Flight 1003 to Honolulu will be delayed. The plane is still on Oahu." It was only a half-hour delay (but really, the flight itself is just 20 minutes.)

Eventually, I got off the rock. Luckily, I work near the airport and my baggage was minimal so I was able to walk -- also about 20 minutes-- to my office. I didn't have my car since on Friday my husband had dropped me at my office, from which I caught a ride to the terminal with a friend. As I walked, I repeated a mantra--"Go! never again." I also thought about the airline's in-flight magazine's letter from the CEO in which he reminisced about the past four years doing business as an ambitious low-fare airline in Hawaii, making reference to "our.. goal..to offer...the highest quality, friendliest, and most reliable service." I mentioned this to a co-worker, even more mellow than I try to be, who routinely flies to and from Maui (on Hawaiian).

"That's just PR," he reminded me. Well, yes, but it does lead to cognitive dissonance, something marketing and advertising departments try to avoid. Go! has yet to make its goal. Maybe that's why corporate America is so goal-focused: something to achieve in the future, not necessary to deliver now. At least they didn't send my bag to Hilo; that would have been the last straw.

Lineage is a much regarded concept in martial arts about credibility and authenticity of training and style. It was a travesty of lineage when Go! actually petitioned to use the Aloha trademark after the bankrupt line's planes were sold and its gates were closed. It would be like some Hollywood pseudo-martial artist-actor killing the last of the Wang family and then claiming Wang lineage.

This airline's lineage is poor. From now on, I choose authentic heritage in the islands: I'll fly Hawaiian.

JUMONG and SOCCER
It's like the end of an era! Finished the 81-episode (the same number of verses in the Tao Te Ching) Korean historical epic Jumong last night and feel like I ought to have a post-season party. Bring on the kim chee and Korean BBQ hot wings!

I noticed that in June 22, 2006, just four weeks into its first TV run in Korea, Jumong achieved a 30% rating share, even during the FIFA World Cup. So history repeats itself (which may be one of the themes of the drama). In my house, just four years later, it got a 100% rating share, totally eclipsing the World Cup, which I never would have paid any attention to anyway. (Soccer, right?)

If I want to see hordes of buff men running around a field trying to score points for their team (and who doesn't?), I kinda prefer the beautifully costumed swordsmen, archers and horsemen with flying hair and topknots to the athletes dressed like toddlers kicking a ball around a stadium. (Although I do notice that guy to the left has a pretty nice ponytail.) To say nothing of the drama's political intrigue and suspense of kingdoms rising and falling, uniting and splitting, and romance with strong women contributing in their own way. Of course, I guess soccer fans find all this in the World Cup, too. (Those romantic Beckhams!)

Yes, history repeating itself...Jumong's extremely popular Song Il Gook/Guk/Kook (above, right) plays his character's own grandson in the drama that picks up more or less where Jumong left off. Maybe I'll catch it during the next World Cup.

I'M MY OWN GRANDPA

In the meantime, it's time to read a book.

CONTAINING THE MIGRANTS

One of the themes of Jumong, the 81-episode Korean drama I have become addicted to, set several decades B.C.E., about the development of a major kingdom in Korea, has to do with the "migrants," mostly Koreans who have no home to call their own who are enslaved by the evil Han. Jumong's quest is to save them and establish a free Korean state.

Some things don't change. Beijing is establishing "gated communities" for its huge population of migrants, rural workers (not necessarily all Han Chinese) who have come to the cities to work. Where's Jumong when we need him? Freeing the slaves, no matter what nationality or ethnicity, is just an ongoing struggle.

NAME-DROPPING IN CHINA
You'd think that after three weeks of Chinese food, Chinese people, Chinese religion, Chinese smog, Chinese rain, Chinese language, Chinese art, I might want to settle in at home with a pepperoni pizza and an Al Pacino movie.

But last night, I was compelled to re-watch "True Legend (Su Qiu Er)" the Vincent Zhao Wen Zhuo (Chiu Man Cheuk) film I had been longing to see for a year, failed to see in Beijing (on 3D on a big screen, long past its debut and widely available on DVD), but scored as a Hong Kong region DVD in Honolulu Chinatown before I left home. It's about the popularizer of "drunken fist," an on-going theme in martial arts classics.  I loved Vincent in it, and refuse to compare his performance with anything by Jet Li or Donnie Yen (Zhao is a decade younger, anyway), although the segment that featured David Carradine (to whom the movie was dedicated, after his peculiar demise) was terrible...if I were Carradine, I might have looked for a less embarrassing way out of the embarrassment of the film role.  What was he thinking?

What I did do in China was drop Vincent's name a lot.  "Oh, yes, he's so handsome," our tour guide agreed. She knew all of his TV roles. Although another male tour guide said he preferred Hollywood movies, like Star Wars, when I told him I liked Chinese film.   Movies and Zhao Wen Zhuo were good topics for conversation with cab drivers.  One said he liked Julia Roberts, whose big grin was everywhere in Lancome advertising all over China, even more prevalent than Mao's kitchy visage.  We agreed that Julia and Vincent both had wondrous big smiles.

So, Vincent's name earned me a little street cred in China, and I had to pay homage on my first movie night back at home. Having done that, next on the agenda is to complete the Korean Jumong series, on my iPad, a pleasant little traveling companion and addictively good story. Too bad it's in Korean, not Mandarin. It sounds really foreign. I was getting used to CCTV in Beijing which featured whole channels devoted to martial arts, drama series and Chinese opera. Returning home one evening after a live opera sampler which included scenes from White Snake, with which I have become very familiar, I turned on the opera channel...to discover an honest-to-Mao revolutionary opera being played out.  It was just like classic Peking opera, but with characters dressed in Red Army uniforms and 1960s peasant chic.