NOTE FROM JONAH: These pictures belong to a small series “Two Hours and Twenty Minutes.” The pictures were all taken over the course of two hours and twenty minutes on November 1, 2011 between 3:21 pm and 5:41 in Seoul, South Korea. If you are just joining the series here’s what you’ve missed:

• The Soul of Seoul
• Hello Kitty de la Seoul
• Autumn: Good for the Seoul
• Heart in Seoul

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Although I only had one day to spend in Seoul, and was pretty happy to just hang out in my fancy hotel room, I did manage to sneak out for about a couple of hours to take some photos and grab some Korean food.

And after spending significant amounts of time this year looking at architecture and cultural heritage areas in Asia, I decided it would be cool to see some of Korea’s traditional housing, which just like Beijing’s hutongs, is becoming scarce.

Traditional homes in South Korea are called hanok houses. In stark contrast to the modern areas of Seoul, these houses seem to be in small bundles and have survived modernization sporadically around the city — unlike in Beijing, where the hutong areas are almost exclusively found within the center of the city.

Hanok is a term to describe Korean traditional houses. Korean architecture lends consideration to the positioning of the house in relation to its surroundings, with thought given to the land and seasons. The interior structure of the house is also planned accordingly. This principle is also called Baesanimsu (배산임수), literally meaning that the ideal house is built with a mountain in the back and a river in the front, with the ondol heated rock system for heating during cold winters and a wide daecheong (대청) front porch for keeping the house cool during hot summers.

Like Beijing’s cultural heritage areas, these houses and the small alleys which connect them have been preserved, gentrified and rebuilt. However, I didn’t see anything that resembled Qianmen, a historically significant area south of Tienanmen Square which was redeveloped into a disastrous shopping arcade that looks like a movie set.

Unlike Beijing’s hutongs, the hanok houses within Seoul seemed to be in good condition. While Beijing’s hutongs are cluttered and crumbling, Seoul’s hanok houses seemed to be holding up very well.

Near the hanok houses, I stumbled upon Changdeok-Gunk Palace, an UNESCO World Heritage Area Site. This palace was first built in 1405 and has most definitely been restored.

The park cost 3000 won to enter only (about $3). Compared to other UNESCO World Heritage Areas, this is actually cheap.

Changdeokgung, also known as Changdeokgung Palace or Changdeok Palace, is set within a large park in Jongno-gu, Seoul, South Korea. It is one of the “Five Grand Palaces” built by the kings of the Joseon Dynasty. Because of its location east of Gyeongbok Palace, Changdeokgung, with Changgyeonggung, is also referred to as the “East Palace” (동궐, 東闕, Donggwol). The literal meaning of Changdeokgung (창덕궁, 昌德宮) is “Palace of Prospering Virtue”. Changdeokgung was the most favored palace of many princes of the Joseon Dynasty and retained many elements dating from the Three Kingdoms of Korea period that were not incorporated in the more contemporary Gyeongbokgung. One such element is the fact that the buildings of Changdeokgung blend with the topography of the site instead of imposing upon nature. Changdeokgung, like the other Five Grand Palaces in Seoul, was heavily damaged during the Japanese occupation of Korea. Currently, only 30% of the Palace structures remain.

The palace and architecture reminded me somewhat of the Forbidden City in Beijing. However, unlike in the Forbidden City, I wasn’t approached by anyone selling anything, no one black market tour guides pestered me and in general in wasn’t too crowded.

The funny thing to me, in comparing Beijing’s hutongs to South Korea’s hanok areas and the palaces which represent a similar culture and design, was just how much more calm the Korean side seemed to be. The Changdeokgung Palace was much less crowded than the Forbidden City, yet, there were still large amounts of people in the area. However, the atmosphere is just so much more calm than in a similar place in China. The alleys of the hanoks also seemed much more calm than Beijing’s hutongs. The houses seemed much bigger than the average Beijing hutong, which might mean, people actually have room to live inside and therefor don’t have to hang out, outside, bringing the rif-raf into the streets.

But this hectic feeling, which I’ve become so used to I don’t really blink when I see it anymore, is really all over China, South Asia and Southeast Asia. Its really one of Asia’s most defining characteristics for me. The general atmosphere just seems hectic. However, I think many would think this applies to many areas of the developing world.

I’ve often wondering if this feeling Westerners get in the developing world comes from them missing the order and organizational way of life of the West. The order which tells people when to cross the street, how fast to drive, how close to walk to people, where a car can drive (and where it can’t), or to where someone should sell their products. Perhaps when those things change, the perspective from a Westerner might seem hectic.

But I doubt it feels hectic to someone who grew up in this environment where cars drive on sidewalks, bikes bas busses and in door stores are a minority.

NOTE FROM JONAH: These pictures belong to a small series “Two Hours and Twenty Minutes.” The pictures were all taken over the course of two hours and twenty minutes on November 1, 2011 between 3:21 pm and 5:41 in Seoul, South Korea. If you are just joining the series here’s what you’ve missed:

• The Soul of Seoul
• Hello Kitty de la Seoul
• Autumn: Good for the Seoul
• Heart in Seoul

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Yep. That’s me up there surrounded by cameras in my office — in my new two piece matching Hello Kitty pajamas. It simply pays to be comfortable for long edits.

For those of you who follow me on Twitter and Facebook, you may have noticed an influx of Hello Kitty related posts recently.

Before I moved to Asia I thought Hello Kitty was just a brand targeted at little girls. In an article earlier this year the Swarovski CEO Robert Buchbauer said:

“She’s just a symbol of happiness, and I think it’s very important these days to transmit some positive messages to the people, and I think Hello Kitty is perfect in order to do so.”

But oh how we were wrong. This is no ordinary cat. And I’ve been learning how wrong I was over the past three years since I’ve been in Asia. Now, I would describe Hello Kitty as more of a cult style cultural phenomenon than a brand.

While the Hello Kitty line is certainly made up of material objects, the symbol is more than a bag or key chain here. Even in the most basic of definitions, Wikipedia says:

The Hello Kitty trademark has spread globally; Sanrio earned over $1 billion annually in sales outside of Japan, as of 2003. Although mainly aimed at the pre-adolescent female market, the Hello Kitty product range goes all the way from purses, stickers and pen sets to toasters, televisions, clothing, massagers, and computer equipment. It has a cult-like following among adults as well, especially in Asia, where Hello Kitty adorns cars, purses, jewelry and many other high-end consumer products. Several Hello Kitty TV series, targeted towards young children, have also been produced. Examples of products depicting the character include dolls, stickers, greeting cards, clothes, accessories, school supplies, dishes and home appliances. Her fame as a recurring Sanrio character has led to the creation of two officially licensed Hello Kitty theme parks, Harmonyland and the indoor Sanrio Puroland.

First, understand that in Asia — you can actually get Hello Kitty … everything. Both fake and real Hello Kitty embroidered items exist from toilet seat covers, to credit cards, to keychains, to stickers, to handbags, to the classic stuffed animal to a matching two-piece pajama sets. License plates, iPhone cases, towels and t-shirts are other common items.

Big business around the world have actually caught on to this for quite some time. In a research paper entitled “Hello Kitty and the Identity Politics in Taiwan” Assistant Professor Yu_Fen Ko in the Dept. of Public Communication at Hsih-Shin University in Taipei tell

In the end of 1999, Chunghwa Telecom Co. got on the bandwagon and launched a series of “Hello Kitty Phonecard.” The entire stock of 50,000 cards were sold out in five minutes after the counter windows were open. Meanwhile, Twinhead Computer introduced a special edition of notebook with a Hello Kitty on its pink cover. Apple Computer also promoted a strawberry-colored iMac with a set of Hello Kitty stationary gift. Yue-Loong Automobile even had a Hello Kitty limited edition of March. Makoto Bank issued Hello Kitty credit cards. Furthermore, according to a poll by Chinese Television Network, Hello Kitty was rated the number three most figure person in Taiwan in the year of 1999. Early in the year 2000, McDonald‘s launched another joint venture with Hello Kitty, “the Love for Millennium Meal Package,” 450,000 sets of Hello Kitty to be purchased with any meal option. Again, it caused heated discussions.

Clearly, Hello Kitty in Asia has a bit of “Beatle Mania” to it. And its not just kids who wear and use this stuff. I remember a colleague at China Daily who would come into her professional job with a Hello Kitty laptop case everyday. I’m currently traveling in Anhui with a Chinese colleague who credit cards are printed with Hello Kitty images and logos.

In South Korea, the Hello Kitty game seemed to be one step ahead of China, although I’m sure its still a bit behind Japan and Taiwan.

In Myeongdong Market you couldn’t walk ten feet without seeing something with the pink cat’s face tattooed on it. In fact, Hello Kitty is so popular in South Korea — there’s an entire cafe dedicated to it. I meant to swing by this place, but given my extremely short time period in the country, I thought the UNESCO World Heritage Sites were probably more important to see (pictures in next post). However, blogger Natalie Chai did make it there and has shared some photos of the cafe with us here.

These fine images from the café generously donated to the Hello Kitty cause by Natalie Chai. See Natalie’s Web site here and her Twitter feed here.

From booths to seats — even the espresso foam is Hello Kitty themed.

So you might be asking “So what’s the deal? Asians like Hello Kitty. But why do you?” While my admiration of the cat is a bit tongue-in-cheek, I think the visuals surrounding Hello Kitty culture goes beyond toys and material objects.

The visual branding of Hello Kitty is a good representation of Asian popular culture. From the light yet neon-ish color palatte to the round bubbly kitty: these types of symbols, colors, graphic design and general visual atmospheres are used in branding, advertising and mass communication all over Asia. We see the style come up every time there is a global event such as the Shanghai World Expo or the Beijing Olympic Games. Mascots in Asia always seem to have a little bit of Hello Kitty in them.

In America we see the pink cat and move on with our day. However, this is the symbolic, cultural and visual branding for a continent. The influence of this branding and advertising on the daily lives if people in Asia is so immense, that it actually changes the way people see things. This is where things become interesting.

Westerners look at Hello Kitty as cheesy. But the pink cat is not cheesy here, where the large majority of the world’s population lives. In fact, a larger percentage of the world would say that Hello Kitty is not cheesy and is in fact a well designed vibrant product.

In Japan, Hello Kitty actually has a role in politics:

In May 2008, Japan named Hello Kitty the ambassador of Japanese tourism in both China and Hong Kong, which are two places where the character is exceptionally popular among children and young women. This marked the first time Japan’s tourism ministry had appointed a fictional character to the role.
UNICEF has also awarded Hello Kitty the exclusive title of UNICEF Special Friend of Children.

However, to be a bit balanced, the widely popular cat’s legacy has not always been good:

• In 1999, a brutal murder known as the Hello Kitty murder took place in Hong Kong. The popular name of the case derives from the fact that the murderer inserted his victim’s head into a Hello Kitty doll after decapitating her.
• As of August 2007, Thai police officers who have committed minor transgressions such as showing up late or parking in the wrong place are forced to wear pink Hello Kitty armbands for several days as penance.
• During the financial crisis of 2007–2010, a poster of a Hello Kitty pre-paid debit card expanded to roughly 1 meter in length was displayed on the floor of the US Senate by Senator Byron Dorgan as a demonstration of extreme methods used by credit companies to attract “children 10 to 14 years of age”. Though not an actual credit card, it was criticized for its promotional website encouraging users to “shop ’til you drop.”

While I do laugh a little every time I see a man on the street selling Hello Kitty towels, a theme shop in the mall selling only Hello Kitty items or when my Chinese colleague goes to pay for something with her credit card and the Cat comes out of the wallet — this image is as powerful as one gets in this continent.

More on Hello Kitty in Asia

• Official Hello Kitty site here.
• Official Hello Kitty blog here.
• Assistant Professor Yu-Fen Ko paper “Hello Kitty and the Identity Politics in Taiwan” here.
• Natalie Chai’s blog entry about her visit to the Hello Kitty café in Seoul here.

UPDATE 7:46 PM, NOV. 10, 2011

This just in from photographer Jojje Olsson (Twitter, Web site). After writing this post Jojje alerted me that a NEW Hello Kitty restaurant is coming to Sanlitun, Beijing — THIS DECEMBER! On Weebo, this advertisement has be re-tweeted 2,700 times! You know where I’ll be, this December!

NOTE FROM JONAH: These pictures belong to a small series “Two Hours and Twenty Minutes.” The pictures were all taken over the course of two hours and twenty minutes on November 1, 2011 between 3:21 pm and 5:41 in Seoul, South Korea. If you are just joining the series here’s what you’ve missed:

• The Soul of Seoul
• Hello Kitty de la Seoul
• Autumn: Good for the Seoul
• Heart in Seoul

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I don’t pretend to know much about South Korea. However, I do know something about foliage. But, I didn’t expect to see nice foliage in Seoul.

This less than 24-hour trip to Seoul happened to come right at a moment when the leaves were changing.

As someone who grew up chasing color and light in trees and avoiding pesky leaf peepers from New York (as they are called in Vermont) this was a really nice treat.

Outside the Changdok-Gunk Palace I decided to take a walk in a park. Golden leaves covered the ground within the park and even on the cities well built sidewalks.

I was surprised at how colorful this environment actually was. But what made it better was how people were acting in the park. The general feeling of the area was calm. Children played in leaves, adults laid under trees chatting and the classical architecture of Korea was highlighted by the colors of the trees around them.

I didn’t see any leaf peepers from New York, although I was probably the closest thing around. It was just an ordinary day. People went about their business in a normal fashion, with the occasional person taking a picture.

If you were to go to a foliage area in Beijing right now, you would be surrounded by Chinese men with enormous cameras and large groups being lead around by a group leader with a flag.

The peacefulness of fall actually existed in Seoul. Although I grew up in this kind of colorful and peaceful environment by being in China the past three autumns I had almost forgot how nice fall can be.

NOTE FROM JONAH: The following pictures in the next five posts were all taken over the course of two hours and twenty minutes on November 1, 2011 between 3:21 pm and 5:41 in Seoul, South Korea. If you are just joining the series here’s what you’ve missed:

• The Soul of Seoul
• Hello Kitty de la Seoul
• Autumn: Good for the Seoul
• Heart in Seoul

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I don’t pretend to understand South Korea, or for that matter — China.

However, after spending 22 hours in Seoul this week I was truly shocked by how different it is to China. Sure, its another country and perhaps those ephemeral borders aren’t so ephemeral. But in my extremely short time in the country, I was just shocked by how “with it” the capital city seems to be. Also having just made a video on North Korea, it was shocking to see just how far South Korea has come. I certainly wonder if the skinny guards on the northern size of the DMZ glance to the South thinking “I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks.”

On the South side of the DMZ — you see color. They dress to impress. You see this in Shanghai, but there’s more of a mix there. In Shanghai you can still see people in more traditional Mao era clothing. Beyond being well dressed, the Korean population seemed calm and collected. People were not shoving to get on the subway and were queuing for taxis. In 22 hours in Seoul, I saw one person spit — and he was a Chinese tourist.

Chinese spitting is one thing thats still hard to understand. Especially when I see this behavior close to a border. Why do people on one side of the line frequently spit, while those on the other have learned how to exist without constantly hacking up flem and leaving it on the streets for all to enjoy?

While Seoul’s population of 10 million doesn’t stand up to some of China’s biggest cities — its nothing to sneeze at and while examining how a city functions, its always interesting to see how so many people get around in small confined areas.

I think you can tell a lot about an Asian country by what happens when you first leave the airport.

For example, in most cities in China when you get outside of the airport, you will be approached by black taxis (illegal, or freelance drivers) and there will be a place to pick up real taxis. Real taxis will use their meter, however, they might not go the quickest way. In India, upon leaving an airport (or train station) you are bombarded by begging children, yelling tuk-tuk drivers, black taxis and a hogwash of third world rif-raft. In Southeast Asia, tourist related organizations prey on those getting off planes. Hostels, organized tours and resorts are waiting like fisherman, every time a plane lands.

In South Korea, I was approached by … no one.

I went to a cab line that moved swiftly. I showed the driver an address (written in Korean) and we proceeded to go straight their, sans scams, mafan or delays of any kind.

An iPhone based guidebook I had read said Korean drivers “are reckless and the streets are plagued with seemingly perpetual traffic jams” and you should avoid using them. Granted, I think this may have been the worst guide book/ap I have ever seen, but after having lived in Asia for a number of years, I found the driving to be about as safe as it gets. Traffic exists, but nothing compared to Beijing or even LA.

The “togetherness” of Seoul went beyond the clothes and traffic. The details were there.

While riding in elevators, I didn’t fear for my life … a possibly unjustified fear I have in China every time I set foot in an elevator that somewhere on it has a sticker that says “made in China.”

Is it fair for me to trust something more that is made in Korea than China? Are wages higher and therefor reflect in better workmanship? Our perception of a product’s quality based on their origin is interesting. I know I trust Japanese made cameras before say, Chinese. However, I hadn’t really considered too much about Korean products and their quality factor.

It was these little things that seemed to be nicer. Things seemed more legit and certainly less fake.

The tap water at my hotel tested good enough to drink. I ate raw oysters on the street in a busy shopping district. This is something I probably wouldn’t do in most places in China. In general, raw seafood and Asia (with the obvious exception of Japan) don’t always mix well.

The feeling in the streets of Seoul was also much different than in other parts of Asia. I saw young girls drinking beer and smoking cigarettes in the in the streets, acting independently of men and seemingly free from some of the other social pressures which often change the behavior of the female population in North Asia.

The shopping culture I associate with Shanghai and Hong Kong was here in full swing.

In the very famous Myeongdong Market, you can buy almost any main brand western item from North Face to Adidas. DVDs even looked real — and cost similar to the price of a United States DVD (roughly $14), opposed to in China where DVDs are always fake and usually cost about $1.50 (and might be in the wrong language).

This area actually fits the stereotypical notion of what westerns think Asian shopping areas are like. Neon signs lining the streets actually creating enough light to illuminate the ground for shoppers.

And while the maze of streets is lined from top to bottom with outlet stores, hip brands and restaurants — the actual street filled up with small vendors and street food. I thought this was a great balance and made the market very lively. I also noticed some of the strangest street food I have ever seen. A lot of really weird looking things.

My hotel room was said to be a boutique 5-star resort. A couple times a year in Asia I try to visit a place like this. I book a nice hotel room in some country, and see what US $300 will get me. And here in Korea, it actually does get you something that you might pay $1000 for in the US. For 2300 RMB my room had a private relaxation pool, two showers, one bathroom, separate living room, office, bar and coffee center, wardrobe room, and a bedroom with a king size bed. The entire suite was 70 square meters and was surrounded by 180 degree views over looking Seoul, with remote controlled curtains.

While $300 isn’t exactly cheap, this room could have been at least four times as much in the West — and with this view, pending which city it was in — even more. With boutique hotels in Asia you usually get more bang for you buck than in the West, but often some of the details are missing. Here in Seoul, the service and standards actually matched what I would expect from the west.

The icing on the cake for me, in how “with it” Korea seems — is WiFi access. The city has created a network which actually covered everywhere I went (granted I didn’t make it to the outskirts or even close). The internet and communication has become so much a part of our lives (some of us … more than others) its really nice to see a city take the initiative to create access for a moving population that is so expansive.

I don’t pretend to be an expert on culture here. There’s are just mere observations from spending 22 hours in this city. Now that I have a taste for Korea, I would love to go back and travel to more rural areas to have a look at how quick some of these factors fade, as you move away from the capital.

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“Time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana”
Groucho Marx

Sometimes life moves so fast, months pass by and you don’t even notice.

In general, as one gets older, time seems to pass by quicker and quicker. I think there is actually some science behind this — in terms of individual perception of time and self. For example, one year of a four-year-old’s life is 25 percent of their entire life. However, one year of a ten-year-old’s life is only ten percent of their entire life. Therefore, one year from the perception of a four-year-old will take much longer than that of a ten-year-old. So one year from the perception of a person who has lived 100 years is really nothing — only 1 percent of their entire existence. Yet, for the ten-year-old, its a good portion of their life.

While these statements might be obvious, I find at 31-years-old time is passing by exponentially quicker than in the past. However, I don’t think my age is the only factor here and I believe some of the choices we make in life can really speed up our perception of how quick time is passing. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve also continued to travel more.

Perhaps traveling increases one’s perception of the rate at which life passes by. In August and September I clocked 55,208 km in North America and Asia, which Google conveniently tells me would take 84 days and 21 hours, if I were to drive it.

My time over the past two months has been spent working jobs for the New York Times, Asia Society, Global Post, Danwei.com, British Petroleum, Coca-Cola and Pendragon Productions as well as seeing friends and family on both coasts of the United States. During this time of ultra-productivity, my location has continually changed. I’ve taken over 30 flights and spent (literally) many days in the air. This time seems to evaporate: an early wake up call, a frantic packing of your bag, a taxi to the airport, security check, board a plane, watch a movie, read a book, exit plane, claim baggage, back in another taxi — repeat.

Do this enough, and its almost like it doesn’t happen. Time has just passed. One moment its June and the next its November.

Now, factor in what you do in between those stops. For me the pattern seems to be: client meetings -> preproduction -> shooting -> postproduction. When I’m lucky, I get some time in between those events for personal things. However, as a freelancer working for many different companies at once — some part of that process is always happening and usually overlapping. The actual photography part can be pretty minimum when you factor travel times and the additional steps in which one must take in order to make yourself a viable business.

Time seems to be completely lost during post production. Recently, oil giant British Petroleum (BP) sent me on a two week trip around China interviewing employees in Guangzhou, Shenyang, Shanghai, Chengdu, Zhengzhou and Beijing. The effect of this (travel) and shoot is another ten+ days in an edit suite. Normally, on a deadline like this dealing with massive amounts of content I go into the office around 9 am and leave somewhere between 12am and 4am. Do that for ten days straight and you will have simply just lost ten days. Sometimes, the only thing you really have to show for the time, is the product which you create. A 10-minute video representing 22 days of your life — for me, this is the best evidence I have of what has been happening because time just seems to jump: In this case, as if June went straight to November.

Through this time where from my perception, I seemed to have skipped months in time, life has been excellent. However, this may have marked the first time in life where I’ve become so busy, social media and blogging dissemination has actually come to a real slow. I never thought I would actually be “too busy for social media” or “too busy to return emails” but alas, there are only so many hours in the day (for anyone whose email I might have missed and who happens to be reading this, I apologize).

Since the last personal update (“31 Years Old with the Energy of an Eight-Year-Old: An Update from China”) on this blog work has been much fun. Right now I am in between two storms — a calm. Unlike in the photo above, there is no operating of jibs or shooting (at least until tomorrow). Taking more control of my time now, regular blogging activity on this blog, Tumblr and Twitter should be back to normal.

I’ve just finished some commercial jobs and am moving back to editorial and NGO work in November. If people can trade carbon, I’m hoping to trade karma this month and will back off the commercial kick and will be focusing on, what I would call — more ethical work (hence the karma trading). I’m currently working on projects with the New York Times and beginning a new series of videos for Save the Children China. The upcoming months seem to have so many possibilities, its hard to predict where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing.

But the general report from China this fall: As Groucho Marx once said “Time Flies Like an Arrow, Fruit Flies Like a Banana.”

Work is busy as ever. Life is great. Time is passing quickly. This is life.

For PART I of this post, click HERE.
For PART II of this post, click HERE.
For PART III of this post, click HERE.

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For a photographer who spends all of his time photographing foreign places, its a pretty interesting experience to go take pictures in the town you grew up in.

For me, that town is Shelburne, Vermont. Its a small town in Northern Vermont that resembles something out of a fairy tale. Historic barns, covered bridges, rolling green hills and immaculately mowed lawns are in every direction. In the town center, kids and parents eat ice cream peacefully in front of the Shelburne Country Store.

This would be my second time “home” in the past three years. However, I hadn’t taken a picture there in many more years than that. And one day I thought I would go take some pictures for a couple minutes — to see what it felt like to take a picture at home.

And boy … did it feel uncomfortable.

I used to take pictures here during my college years as well as post-university while working for the Burlington Free Press. However, years later after photographing in America’s West, North Africa and throughout Asia, it felt odd.

While I live in China, I don’t know if I really consider it home. However, after looking at this place through my lens, I was pretty sure, this didn’t feel like home either.

By looking at Shelburne through a camera, it gave me the opportunity to frame my home town both photographically and mentally. Looking at these pictures compared to where I live now, is so different, it made Shelburne seem almost fake.

People weren’t poor. The biggest problem seemed to be caused by the police in their endless pursuit to create income via speeding tickets. There was no desert, no pollution, no threatened or marginalized population. Everyone’s lawns were so well mowed and manicured, I could have mistaken them for astroturf. These are things I’ve become so used to being surrounded by, without them I felt very odd.

These more dark parts of life, I feel very comfortable photographing. Crimes, fires, funerals, riots, environmental problems, social issues — no problem. But a nice peaceful town, that is tricky. One thing I noticed was how invasive the camera seemed to be, which normally I’m just used to and it doesn’t phase me anymore.

However, the feeling may be more about photographing home, than photography itself. And although the town itself seems to resemble something from a children’s book, some parts of home will always feel home.

My parents still live in the house I grew up in. I attended a wedding of old friends. I spent a weekend with my nieces. These things will always feel like home, even if the physical space they exist in doesn’t. But if this place didn’t feel like home, and my residents in China doesn’t exactly feel like home either, it brings up a question I often get — Where is home?

For expatriates who travel a lot this becomes confusing. If you take a look at this page, you’ll see I’ve lived in quite a few places. But, none of them are home. China isn’t home and my home town, doesn’t seem like home either.

For people that travel, at a certain point I think you have to sacrifice the feeling of home and I’d guess the longer away form your home country you spend and the more time you spend traveling, it probably becomes even more of a far off notion. By leaving your home the world opens up. Doors open as does your view of the world you exist in. I believe everyone should get out of their own country, at least for awhile. However, for those of us who continue to do it we do sacrifice things, regardless of how much fun it might look from the outside.

My niece above, who is now 3 years, 10 months, 23 days old (my brother conveniently keeps this information readily available), has probably seen me in person less than a dozen times in her life. My family and best friends in the world, see me once a year if I’m lucky.

The path we take in life will always have pros and cons. And as much as its a bit sad to really realize how far away you are from your friends and family (mentally and physically), and that you’ve become a stranger in your own home town, this dream is too good to give up. For now we’ll just hope all of these things will be re-obtainable later in life.

For PART I of this post, click HERE.
For PART II of this post, click HERE.
For PART III of this post, click HERE.

For PART I of this post, click HERE.
For PART II of this post, click HERE.

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At the end of a pier in Brooklyn, New York, a man in a blue uniform approaches a boisterous man holding a can of beer, concealed in a brown paper bag.

Light from what locals call “the capital of the world” reflects off the waterway, illuminating the two men. Tattooed men with overly tight, low riding pants smoke cigarettes as fisherman watch their static lines fade into the reflection of Manhattan. No one seems to notice the two men.

“Sir, you can’t drink that here,” says the uniformed man.

With an authoritarian voice that only a practiced police officer could have, the man holding the brown bag turns around and yells “Do you know who I am?” Brooklyn’s hipsters, fisherman and those who happened to be on the pier still don’t look over.

A lot of jokes start this way. But this is no “what does one cop say to the other cop” joke.

In fact, this isn’t a joke at all. Just a 3-minute interaction in New York City which ended when an on duty cop decided it wasn’t worth arresting an overly intoxicated off duty cop, who claimed to work for New York City’s homicide department.

This would never happen in China. Cops might argue and fight but they would not be fighting in this situation because its not against the rules to drink in public places. Ask anyone who has spent significant time in China — if you find yourself in the situation where an overly intoxicated Chinese man has become boisterous or offensive, the best thing to do is often give them another drink; otherwise, things could get messy …

But we have lots of rules in America.

Don’t go to too fast. Cross the street in here, but not there. You have to be this old to do this. In Barre, Vermont “All residents shall bathe every Saturday night.” In Little Rock Arkansas “Dogs may not bark after 6 PM.” It is legal to drive the wrong way down a one-way street and driving on a sidewalk would probably cause you to lose your license.

In many ways, its actually ironic how many rules exist in the land of the free, and how in China — in many ways, anything goes. In the authoritarian state, rules don’t exist, while in the democratic state — moving furniture during the wrong hours could get you a ticket.

A friend of mine who owns a bar in Beijing, simply rents a small room where he has refrigerators full of beer and bottles of home made (quite possibly dangerous) absinthe. He sells food when he feels like it. There is no liqueur license above the bar, a health inspector has never come by and although he does pay taxes in some form, they don’t go to the central government directly.

Another friend, owned so many cars — his assets turned into a rental business. There is no insurance involved.

While this irony exists, on the opposite end huge injustices obviously still occur. However, from the perspective of those who I have seen this trip in the United States, people seem to think China is a place where no one has control over their destiny and speaking up will get you arrested. In some ways, the freedoms associated with American’s constitutional rights blind them from other parts of life where they have lost control of their destiny.

We have a free press, but for most Americans public transportation isn’t available to get to work. Its ok to own a gun, but its not ok to start a bar without permission from a dozen government entities.

While these metaphors, inconsistencies and oddities exist on both sides, in the United States I have been constantly asked questions about freedom in China. Is China still communist? Do Chinese people know their Internet is censored? Does China have a president? Can you access Facebook in China? Are you worrying about getting arrested? Can journalists actually report on news?

While many of these questions are interesting, more of them than not revealed to me the many misconceptions American’s have about China. China might be making headlines, but I’m not quite sure understanding is really there. Instead a rather an unsettling fear of China’s rise to power, seems to linger from eras past.

For Part I of this post, click here.

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The sweet is never as sweet, without the sour.

After driving 2,200 miles (3500 km) in California, Oregon and Washington I ended up at my former home at Lake Tahoe. Perhaps it was the juxtaposition of San Francisco’s relatively crazy population to a waterfall lit by a full moon over Lake Tahoe’s Emerald Bay, or perhaps it was the ease of simply traveling 2,200 miles with no road blocks, police questionings, landslides or other unavoidable catastrophe that would be inevitable if traveling that distance in Asia — the West Coast of the United States is simply a beautiful place.

And those that are looking beyond America’s economic woes and broken political system seem to still be living the good life, with or without money.

After leaving San Francisco, I dropped in to see old old friend Jeremy Leffert now making wine in Paso Robles, California (B on the map). We walked through his vineyard, examined wine blends in a celler full of oak barrels and ate cheese that probably cost more than some people’s annual income in Asia.

While Jeremy’s fingernails are stained from the juice of the grapes he grows and his hands reflect those of someone who works the land, the people tasting his wines don’t share the same physical characteristics. I wondered if the people tasting the wines around me thought about the largely migrant populations picking the grapes. I wondered if the couple arguing about wine and cheese pairings thought about the winemakers regular 14-hour work day.

These people were about the opposite of those who I saw on Mission Street. While I can make a guess if the wine drinkers surrounding me thought about how their wine got to their glass, in an attempt to not judge anyone too much — I’ll leave my conclusion out. However, the real revelation here was seeing the sweet balance the sour — a tough life, balancing a good life.

Balance is something I don’t necessarily see very often. The world’s growing interest in China’s nouveau riche puts me in many situations where I’m photographing symbols of growth or Asia’s cremé de la cremé. On the contrary, I find myself in places with great social, environmental or economic problems. So for the most part, I find myself photographing the extremes. And due to deadlines, timelines and logistics I often miss points between A and C.

However, in the land of the car — its normal to drive 20 hours just to go camping. Taking a road trip in America allowed me to see America’s rich, America’s poor and in general, a high degree of diversity — culturally, economically and in the physical landscape.

I very rarely have the opportunity to take long road trips in Asia. I find myself on planes, trains and cabs daily. And when I am in a car, I am never the driver. The great American road trip had become a foreign concept to me. And traveling like this, allowed me to see point B, in between A and C. Perhaps these are often the points between the extremes. The points that don’t make the news.

Weeks later I found myself climbing a rock high above Lake Tahoe. The deep blue of Lake Tahoe almost reflected the color of the sky above. While this was once my home, the view to me now was foreign.

Minutes away from my old home at lake level (6200 feet) I sat on an enormous granite slab I used to frequent. I dont think any body of water in all of Asia is this clean. I think I actually avoid going into the water in most of Asia simply out of mistrust of the cleanliness. You can only read so many “bag of dead babies found in river stories” out of China, before you make the decision that a lot of water might not be good to swim in.

Sitting on the rock I thought about my time at this lake. I covered local news here for three years — and the lake was consistently the biggest news maker. While it made sense at the time, having spent time at some of the world’s most polluted waterways since my time here, it makes the lake even more special now.

This lake is a symbol of the great beauty that exists on America’s West Coast.

As I traveled up the West Coast and through the Sierra Nevada the amount of friends I saw and reconnected with grew like a snowball, as did the many differences I saw between the East and the West — both physically and metaphorically. The sky here is blue (you can actually see it). The water here is clean. People obsess over wine and not beer. People drive cars long distances, they don’t take trains. Tacos aren’t in hard, stale yellow shells. A red pepper could cost ¥35, not ¥0.35. People don’t smoke in elevators and throwing your trash in a lake or out of a moving car would be taboo. The list goes on forever …

However, for an expat there’s no better way to see the differences in where you currently reside and your former home — than by actually visiting the place where you grew up. For me, that’s Vermont — which might be the complete opposite place of Beijing. That’s where I headed next and where Part III picks up next.

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In the Tenderloin neighborhood of San Francisco, people sleep on the streets. The steep street is lined with taquerîas, drug addicts, empty shopping carts and dodgy motels. My home used to be not too far from here.

However, now I live in China. I’ve been based in Beijing for the past 2.5 years. Previously, I had a small stint in Algeria — but for the most part, in recent years, all of my time has been spent in Asia. And now that I’m freelance and more in control of my destiny and geographic location — I took the chance to visit my own country for a change.

Although my purpose and goal of this trip was not to photograph, from a photographer’s standpoint, its very interesting to take pictures of the Western world after years of photographing the developing world. For me, I always found it easier to photograph foreign places and things than my own home. Just by the mere fact everything is different from what I grew up with, seeing interesting frames in the developing world seems easy.

However, after a long time away from this country — these frames seem a bit unusual to me. A worker walking in front of a store that conveniently sells amo and booze or even a non polluted sky are fairly strange to me.

This blog post is not about reverse culture shock but more some general observations about America from the perspective of an American living in China.

Traveling by bus, train and car with stops in San Francisco, Central California’s wine country and a long drive through Oregon and Washington followed by a week at my former home at lake Tahoe I’ve had a good chance to check out what’s going on over here in the U.S. and ample time to ask myself the question “what am i missing?”

For me, I’m missing my friends and family; but what’s going on in the world around them I dont think I miss too much.

On Mission Street in San Francisco, the amount of blatant drug use and crazy people is astonishing. Homeless populations certainly exist in Asia (certainly South Asia) but in a “first world” country like the united states, we haven’t even figured out how to house people.

While China’s infrastructure at this level is super impressive, it’s hard to believe we can’t allocate our money in a way to keep people off the streets. One step above the homeless population I’ve been seeing, is Americas lower class scattered around the west coast, still seemingly in a state of depression. The ironic thing is this depression seems to be surrounded by a lot of natural beauty. A beautiful foggy city, a clear blue sky, or a snow covered mountain on the side of a highway — the landscape is stunning.

However, even though the landscape is stunning, one thing I can confidently say — a poor person in the developing world seems infinitely happier than a poor person in America, even though they most likely face much greater and basic hardships. To counter that, the physical environment of a poor person in the developing world is visually the opposite.

While we call ourselves a first world country and we have some nice highways, restrooms and soaps, its visually obvious to me we’re behind in some of life’s basic assets.

Happiness should not be a foreign concept.

However, with the bad — there is always good. Picking up with the good, next post.

NOTE FROM JONAH: This is the continuation of a photo series from India. If you’re just joining us, here’s what you’ve missed:

1. I’m not alone here
2. People ‘like’ my diarrhea
3. Dancing In(dia) the Streets
4. Indian trains: Contemptibly cozy, crammed and claustrophobic
5. Feeding a City Part II: From Macro to Micro
6. Confusing realities of child labor
7. Enlightined in Bodh Gaya बोधगया
8. Kathmandu — You’ve met your match: Varanasi वाराणसी
9. Varanasi वाराणसी: Full Photographic Spectrum
10. From sea to sand: Welcome to Rajasthan
11. Holy cow!
12. Gender inequality in a Blue City
13. Indian Failwhale Tiger Tracking
14. Good Light and Good Luck: The Taj Mahal
15. India in a row
16. A Barefoot Metaphor: China vs. India

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While shoes aren’t completely necessary in life and I generally prefer not to wear them, in places like India — you’d think it would be a good idea to wear them given the general state of cleanliness in the massive subcontinent. This cleanliness factor and some crazy super bacterias floating around combined with the various animals that share space with the human population, it would seem like shoes are a good idea.

However, the Indian population certainly doesn’t think so.

While traveling across India, I was constantly amazed about how many people weren’t wearing shoes. In both rural and urban areas tons of people seemed to think the ground was enough shoe for them. As someone who has lived and traveled in the South Pacific, I’m quite used to the barefoot way of life. I’ve seen people walk across fire or develop calluses on their feet so strong they could walk on coral reef that would tear my feet to shreds. However, I’ve not seen so many people in urban environments develop calluses like the people of India.

So what do barefeet have to do with China?

I think some of this behavior can certainly be attributed to poverty. People aren’t wearing shoes, because they can’t afford them. This is not the only reason, but I think its safe to say when you see a barefoot child collecting trash of the train tracks, he doesn’t have any shoes.

This is a bit strange because any day of the week you can read a story about India’s booming economy. However, unlike in China the impact of this boom doesn’t seem to trickle down to the impoverished population’s feet.

I’ve mentioned earlier, my natural inclination to compare India and China. What do they have in common? They are enormous countries both in population and in physical size. They both have rapidly developing economies which would leed one to believe “things are better there” now then in previous times. And in fact, they are.

Although I wasn’t in China or India twenty or thirty years ago, the impact of China’s growing economy is very visual. While the income distribution is certainly not equal, from rural areas of Anhui to small cities in TIbet to desertified lands in Inner Mongolia or even the state of public bathrooms in Beijing, you can really see China has created massive infrastructure improvements and increased living standards for an enormous population.

I’m sure there are many in China walking around barefoot; however, walking around Beijing or any other major city I don’t really see that. In Delhi and beyond, you continually do.

Although this is a small metaphor that refers to the general living conditions of people from both of these “booming” countries the hint of truth in it might shed light on governmental and social constructions of both countries.

China’s transformation from pre-cultural revolution days to now has not necessarily been a smooth one, and certainly there are many issues that still need to be ironed out, including many human rights issues. However, the China’s communist model vs. India’s democratic model combined with the caste system certainly produced different results.

I certainly don’t claim to be an expert on Indian or Chinese history, politics or sociology but from the visual perspective, these countries and their developmental states couldn’t be more different, with or without shoes. Beyond policy obviously many other societal behaviors and practices (religion, environment, physical space, history) are key indicators when comparing these two countries, the governmental building blocks of democratic India don’t seem to be as strong as in China.