New Troop Bike Ride

 

    Ever since my mom and I received the news that my old troop was going to come to an end in December, we had been looking for a new troop in Claremont. Darren was also looking for a good troop, and his mom was the one who found a nice unit for us, which was Troop 403. The first troop activity we had was last Sunday, a 16-mile bike ride in the Azusa mountains.

    Magically, when we first heard about the bike ride, my mom immediately signed both of us up.  Then the following afternoon, she bought a bike from the village bike shop and somehow fit it into the mini SUV of hers. She even got a cute little basket to go with it.

    After we switched the small SUV for a van, we fit the bikes in snugly in the back, and set out for the Azusa mountains. In less than 40 minutes, we arrived at the parking lot of our trip’s starting and ending point. About 10 minutes was spent waiting for everyone to arrive. At around twelve, we started the ride.

    The first hour of the trip was pretty uneventful. Darren and I just chatted about our accounts on Clash of Clans. It was during our lunch break when things got a bit interesting. I had control over my mom’s phone at that time. With a downloaded app, I started playing random songs like Gangnam Style, and The Fox. A younger scout called Anzo asked, “Do you even have any good songs that one can enjoy?”

During a 1D song, Darren and I simultaneously started to dance to the music. Everyone in view cracked up. Soon I couldn’t resist the laughter, and joined in. After the One Direction song finished, Gangnam Style started playing again, and Darren suddenly did the dance move I remember very well from the movie Internship. As everyone chuckled, I literally started choking on my own sobs of laughter. Then, without warning, I suddenly lost my balance and tumbled to the ground. As I tried to push myself up, I only succeeded in rolling over on my belly. Finally, a kind scout helped me up on my feet.

    As we started off on our trip again, I let the songs I had play randomly. When the phone reached a song we knew, Darren and I would sing purposely off tune and as badly as possible. Some the scouts would stare at us in a funny sort of way and I doubled over in laughter so much, I almost fell off my bicycle.This continued until we reached a steep slope and did not have the breath to sing anymore. Luckily, I made it to the end of the uphill only with my legs on fire. Even more luckily, we were turning around to head back the way we came, and that meant we could go down the steep slope now.

Darren, Wesley, and I hurriedly made an agreement to see who could get back to the end the fastest. Darren got a head start, yelling, “SEE YE!” over his shoulder, leaving Wesley and me scrambling on our bikes in hot pursuit. I turned my bike’s gears up as high as it could go and zoomed down the hill, leaving Wesley on his little wheels, and singing, “What does the fox say?”

In the end, Darren won our unofficial official race. I got last, although all three of us were really close together. Worn out, we returned our bikes to the cars.

         This was probably one of the best activities I have had with Troop 403 so far (of
course, it was the first one). This memory of the first activity with this troop will stay with me for a long time.

 

Darren the Great

 

I have made and kicked out many friends during my time here in the USA. But a friend that I think will stay with me for a long time is Darren Chau, or Darren the Great.

    Up until third grade, I had not known that this Darren character had existed. The first encounter I had with him was when one of my friends took me to meet a new buddy he made. The new buddy he was talking about turned out to be Darren. Sadly, after my friend left to live in Japan with his family, Darren and I didn’t talk much until fourth grade.

    Fourth grade was when I got addicted to handball. Darren also played a lot of it and soon we found out that we made an excellent team. That was probably the official start of our friendship. The first time I laid eyes on him, I knew he would be a nice fellow and friend. Now I proved that statement to be true. At first, I wasn’t very good at handball, but Darren taught me the finer details, and soon I was improving.  Then, when we had different levels of math class, both Darren and I got put in the advanced one. Then in the math class, we magically got paired together to work on a math poster. All the fun we had drawing, doodling, and scribbling strengthened the bond between us.

    At first, Darren and I met only at school. But in fifth grade , our family moved into the house right next to Darren’s. From then on we started seeing each other more and more. Almost every morning, we would walk to Chaparral together. Sometimes, during the weekends, we would go to each other’s houses, and play video games, Nerf guns, and watch movies. I soon got addicted to a game called  Clash of Clans, which Darren recommended to me. This game also added one more topic to the list of subjects Darren and I usually talk about during recess or lunch.

    Not only is Darren a great game strategist, he is also a great singer. I am totally awed  by the fact that he can think of the words of his own made-up songs as he goes and the song still flows and makes sense. It really is amazing that his voice still hasn’t changed and has remained pure.

    Darren is also a charming and nice boy. He cracks lots of jokes and always remodels my Clash of Clans base for me whenever he comes over. When we play on Darren’s Wii, he always allows me to play before he does.

    Darren is, in short, the friend I have wished for for a long time. I hope he will stay with me for years to come.

 

                               

The Tacoed Thanksgiving Party

 

    This year’s Thanksgiving party was probably the most interesting one I have ever attended. It was celebrated at Big Justin’s house.  His mom invited our family and a couple other Chinese families over. Darren and Wesley also came to join the fun. The party lasted for more than five hours, and still we did not want to go home.

    My mom and I arrived at Big Justin’s house at around 4:20 pm, while my dad went to pick up the turkey we ordered from a nearby restaurant. Although everyone invited had already arrived by 4:45, the feast did not start until around 5:30, for the moms had to quench their thirst for gossip first. The meal was buffet style, with Wesley’s dad cutting up the turkey. For some odd reason, he gave me a whole turkey leg, so big I could knock someone out with it. I also had a lot of other food (mostly meat, no shrimp), and I was totally stuffed by six o’clock.

    After the meal was when things got a bit interesting. The big kids were down in the basement, doing something random. Darren, Wesley, and I were trying to annoy them by coming to the edge of the basement stairs and sniggering. We even got some lego robots and put them at the foot of the stairs. When Big Justin came to check, we told him that it was the robots, not us. Eventually, they were really annoyed and dragged us painfully down the stairs and into the basement. In the middle was a play mat, which the big kids put Darren and me on, side by side.

    What happened next was really weird. Big Justin rolled Darren and me into the mat and bound us. So there we were, stuck together and barely able to move a muscle. I bet that we looked like a human taco, inviting everyone to take a bite. Suddenly, a hand that felt like Wesley’s grabbed my foot, and tried to pull off my socks.  But I kicked furiously and Wesley only succeeded in taking of one sock off half way.

    Soon, Darren and I fought free, and everyone started tacoing everyone. I got tacoed 3 or 4 more times, and also rolled myself up and almost tripped someone while rolling. A boy in college who has the same Chinese nickname as me dragged his sister to the mat and tried to taco her as well. But she was strong and quick because of her training as a tennis player, and got free. We tacoed and tackled for almost an hour until we went back to playing games.

    This Thanksgiving celebration was one that I won’t forget soon. But even though it was awkward, the party was still very fun. This party will probably stay forever in my memory.

The Survival Author

    Gary Paulsen is one of the USA’s best authors writing about the wilderness. He is known for writing that doesn’t sugar coat everything and that provides vivid descriptions of the events happening in the wilderness.

    Paulsen had a very unique childhood. He was born in Minnesota, in May 1939. His father was an army officer, and spent most of World War II overseas, fighting. Only when Gary Paulsen was nine years old did he get to meet his dad. He and his mom joined him in the Philippines for two years before returning to Minnesota. Before he met his dad, he had been living with various different relatives. At school, he was never a really committed student, but had a special passion for books.

    When he was only 14 years old, he ran away from home to join a carnival. From there, he took many strange jobs, such as farmer, construction worker, engineer, sailor, and truck driver. He also joined the Iditarod, a 1000+ mile Alaskan dog sled race. All of these early wandering days of Gary Paulsen's life gave him enough adventure and experience to start creating his own stories. Paulsen went to Bemidji College in 1959, and worked as a trapper to earn his tuition. But after going to college for two years, he dropped out and followed in his father's footsteps, joining the army. At that time, he was working in the missiles department.

    After Gary Paulsen left the Army, he took a job in a California aerospace firm. It was there that he made his final decision to become an author. He walked away from work one night and never came back. Paulsen took a job in Hollywood to proofread articles in magazines, which was very boring, and only writing his own works enhanced his life. Then, one day, just like he did with the job at the firm, he left Hollywood silently and returned to Minnesota. He worked hard on his own writing, and soon he finished his first published novel, The Special War.

    While writing novels, Paulsen discovered his love of dog sledding. He participated to the 1983 Iditarod and again, two years later, in the 1985 one. But after he finished the 1985 Iditarod, he had to quit dog sledding for awhile because of angina. From then on, he devoted his life to writing, working sometimes twenty hours a day! Drawing from past experiences, he wrote many great literary fiction books, including one of my favorite sagas, the Brian series, which is a great survival story.

    Gary Paulsen has recovered from his angina now. Currently he is 74 years old. Only a couple years back, in his early 70’s, he ran the Iditarod race again for pleasure. He was more than 70 years old, yet he still survived the harsh climates of Alaska.

    Not only do I love his stripped down writing style, I admire his ability to survive in society, even without parents’ help. Gary Paulsen has just become one of my most important role models!

Chinese New Year=$, Fun, and Food

 

    The Chinese New Year is one of the biggest festivals celebrated in China. This holiday is based on the lunar calendar, so even though it is honoring the coming of the new year, it is always sometime around February on the international calendar. Firework dealers’ stocks of firecrackers and fireworks suddenly disappear, and the money in their bank accounts rockets up. Public janitors’ worst time every year has arrived, for almost everyone lights up rolls of firecrackers and boxes of fireworks, leaving empty, blackened boxes and carpets of red wrapping. No one is able to sleep before midnight, for the noises outside sound like a battlefield. In almost every story of the apartments, delicious aromas waft out from the dozens of traditional Chinese dishes  made for the annual family reunion dinner. All the windows and doors are festooned with red paper, containing Chinese characters of “happiness,” “good fortune,” or  “live long.” These were basic traditions that my family had before my parents and I moved to the USA.

    Chinese New Year has become a lot more simple since we moved here. One of the main reasons is because most of our family is still in China or Taiwan. A requirement of having a good Chinese New Year Party is having a lot of relatives. But we still have kept some of the traditions here.

    Since none of our relatives live here, this holiday is celebrated with friends. Sometimes Darren and Wesley come, but not always, and a couple of other Chinese friends my mom has made over the years.

    We usually host this holiday, since it’s my mom who invites everyone to the party. Most of these friends are great cooks, so my mom assigns them different dishes to bring. My mom, of course, will make her specialty, the Shanghai short ribs, and steamed fish. Rice cakes stand for “growing taller every year,” and glutinous rice balls mean “reunion with family and friends.” My mom prepares lots of red envelopes to give to her friends’ children. She hangs the remaining envelopes up as the red decorations on the windows. It’s not as elaborate as those giant paper-cutouts, but that will have to do here. First we eat our way through the delicious dishes made by my mom and her friends. The meal lasts for at least an hour, and I eat until I am totally stuffed. Then, the other kids and I run off to have some fun, while the parents sit around the table, sipping daintily on small cups of tea, and always keeping up a steady stream of the boring adult gossip or even more boring topic of their kids’ education.

Celebrating Chinese New Year has been a tradition since before I could remember. I know for a fact that this tradition was already really old when my great-great grandpa was just a boy. Our family celebrates this holiday because it is a tradition, not just for us, but for almost the entire Chinese race. Celebrating Chinese New Year is also for good luck, wealth and health in the new year.

Having a Chinese New Year party is very important to me, because in my opinion doing so is upholding the honor of our family and China. To me, not having this festival makes me not a true Chinese. Also, this holiday is the main source of my allowance.

Chinese New Year is a very big part of my life. If I ever have kids, I will make sure to celebrate this holiday with them and let them pass it down through generations to come.

I Hope I Will Never Eat Shrimp

 

Shrimp!

Shrimp is a crustacean, crunchy shell and elongated body,

But to me it is a revolting and squishy scoundrel of the sea

I would rather swallow a pig heart whole and raw,

than to eat a steamed shrimp, curled up in a fleshy sphere.

If I were stuck, starving in the wild

and I had to choose among ingesting shrimp, my extra batteries, or bad and rotten beef,

I would totally masticate the extra batteries

or gormandize the rotten beef.

Shrimp!

I bet you that I would whip up a meal made of rubber ducks and pencil shavings

and slam-dunk the luxuriously laced shrimp sushi in the trash can

I would probably engulf a candle perfectly,

leaving no sign of its existence,

than to digest the obnoxious piece of shrimp you offered me.

Dirt and mud must seem delectable,

compared to that crappy crustacean

so flirty and fake.

Shrimp!

There is not a single word dreadful enough to describe shrimp

there simply is not a word

With its sanguine shell, sagging flesh

all it does to me

is make me want to toss my cookies

I really don’t understand the people who eat it

there is no price that can make me munch a malevolent shrimp

unless my mom is vociferating at me to do so!

Will Complex or Will Simple

 

I love rereading my favorite books, and right now, I am rereading the Ranger’s Apprentice series. Currently, I am on the ninth book, Halt’s Peril. I shall tell you a little about the book’s content. Halt, Will, and Horace are hot on the trail of a group of cults called the Outsiders. They plan to stop this party before the Outsiders can invade their homeland, Araluen. The leader of this cult, Tennyson, has hired professional assassins to get rid of the small party behind them. Halt and Will have to kill these assassins to stop Tennyson. They succeed, but Halt is poisoned by an arrow shot from the assassin’s crossbow.

    The Ranger’s Apprentice can be every bit as popular as a potboiler, and it is a New York Times Best Seller. But even though the series is really action packed, I still think that this book qualifies as literary fiction. I think the characters are very developed and precise. The description of Will, for example, is so detailed that I can almost see his slim build standing in front of me, smiling positively, or Horace, dancing athletically, preparing for the upcoming battles against the giant bodyguards of Tennyson.

    Not only are the characters’ appearances described in intricate detail, their personality is also very complex. The article For Better Social Skills, Scientist Recommend a Little Chekhov states that reading literary fiction can help you understand body language. The author of the Ranger’s Apprentice does a lot of description of body composition, so this series must be literary fiction. He describes little movements like the slump of shoulders, or an intake of breath to ask a question.

    There are so many examples of body position in this book, it would be hard to fit them all in this essay. But I will give a few cases. In the first book, when Halt is telling Will about his father, the author described that the light began to shine from Will’s eyes. Also, when Will and Evanlyn are burning the bridge, Will has a light of grim determination in his eyes as he stops the charging Wargals. More than once in the ninth book, the author describes the characters with slumped shoulders. Knowing these body cues can help you in a blind date to see what feeling is going through your girlfriend at any moment.

    I don’t think I will be changing my habit of mainly reading literary fiction. These types of books are just as fun to read as potboilers, if not more. Even though it is too early for me to go on a blind date or job interview, it never hurts to be prepared for the future. But if one day, there is a really good potboiler, then I probably will read that.

    I really hope that reading literary fiction will help in a blind date or job interview. When I go to the date, I certainly would not want to kiss a girl who doesn’t like me!

The Three Skills

 

    In my humble opinion, I think that all the skills described are very important for success in life. But after much debate with myself, three words stood out to me. Patience, Kindness, and Wisdom. These three skills will help me the most throughout my life.

    Patience is probably the most important of these three skills. To accurately complete the tasks that my bosses or teachers assign me, I have to take my time and not rush to get finish. If I ever get an apprentice of my own, and they mess up on something I assign them, I need to be patient to tell them what they did wrong. Yelling and screaming won’t help them learn. That would make me a bad mentor. Anytime I’m working on something, I should always take the time to think and also to play. It doesn’t pay to work on something for too long and be impatient to finish it. Taking breaks and doing enjoyable and relaxing things can help cultivate patience.

    Kindness is every bit as important as patience. Being kind to everyone makes me more likeable than if I acted like I was in a far superior class. In the future, being nice could allow me to get promoted or have more customers buy from me, which would greatly advance my career. Part of being kind to others  means I’m not jealous of other people, and would give me a totally different personality. The other definition of kind is being warm-hearted, and showing sympathy and understanding to others. Donating to organizations such as the Red Cross or Boy Scouts is an act of kindness, and makes me feel good about myself and that I can make a contribution to the society.  

The last skill that I think is important is wisdom. I may be super smart, but without wisdom, I won’t know how to survive in this world. Making the right choices requires wisdom. I may know how to do 1,142,625 to the power of 9 (I don’t), but I could make a wrong turn and start taking drugs, which could destroy my health and fog my great brain. Without my super brain power, I wouldn’t have a source of income, and soon, I would deplete my money source. But if I am wise enough to reject drugs, I will have a good income and enjoy a pleasant life. When I own a company of my own, having wisdom will allow me to know which risks I should take to make the company more successful.

    Patience, Kindness, Wisdom. Patience, Kindness, Wisdom. Theses are the three skills that will accompany me through my life. Without these, I doubt I will have success in this society.

What a ? Desk!

 

    In the New York Times article, What a Messy Desk Say About You, the author Gretchen Reynolds writes that both a messy and a neat desk have an advantage to the people sitting there. Researchers at University of Minnesota found that a messy desk could boost the imagination, and generate better ideas, and as Dr. Vohs, a behavioral scientist, says “inspire breaking free of tradition.” But if you have a neat desk, then you are most likely going to eat healthier and have more efficiency in your work.

    I really think that my work space is on the neat side. Actually,this marble table top was not originally bought for the house it is in now. It was first bought as a dining table for our condo. When we rented the condo out a couple years back, our tennants had decided to keep the table for their use. But just several months ago, they left, so we took the table and put it in our house instead. The left side of the table is the more cluttered side. Closest to me on the left is a black stapler, with a sticky note filled with random phone numbers. Next to that is a grayish-yellow tape dispenser with a small roll of clear tape. In front of the stapler is my black pencil box, filled with dozens of pens and pencils, and including even more eraser pieces and shavings. There is even a pink Eos lip balm hidden in the depths of the box. Behind the pencil box and slightly farther away  from me sits a small, gray, plastic box filled with junky bookmarks, stickers, tape, and clips that I can cover with a white piece of paper if I want to make the desk look neat in a short time. Beside that stands two pen cups, one glass the other metal painted red. Each holds more than ten pens, two letter openers and a pair of scissors. In front of these cups is a minute bottle of medicine to apply to the skin for bug bites. On the far left corner of my desk is a small upright calendar given to us by our insurance company. In front of the calendar lies a thin pile of bills and a magazine under a remote control, iPhone and phone book. Smack in the middle of this desk is a Dell laptop. To the left of that is a small lamp that I purposely twisted around.

    I think that my work space really slows down my imagination and creativity. But still, it was really surprising in the article to learn that a messy desk even has any advantages at all. I think that my desk should be a little bit messier, because that could be the solution to coping with creative school assignments. I will just try something new.

    In all, I think that my work space is just a bit to clean. So, I think I will take some advice from Dr. Vohs, and “let the clutter rise and unfetter your imagination.”

Jacket or No Jacket

 

    In my short yet interesting twelve years on Earth, there have been many situations where I was stubborn and stood my ground, unbudging. Not many of these situations have ended with me getting applause, but rather more like me getting yelled at by my mom or dad. But in one particular Boy Scout situation I was congratulated for my stubbornness and living up to the Scout motto, “Be Prepared.”

    In May, our Boy Scout troop had been working on the Cycling, or Biking Merit Badge. Some of the requirements were riding 5-mile, 10-mile, 25-mile, and 50-mile trips. The Scouts and I had finished most of these requirements, and I had been preparing to go on the 50 miler, from the Azusa mountains above Freeway 605, to Seal Beach.

    In the previous troop meeting, our Scoutmaster had told us to bring the full Ten Essentials of pocketknife, first aid kit, flashlight, compass, sunscreen, trail food, rain gear, water, fire starters, and extra clothing. I had gathered all my essentials except for the extra clothing. I was wondering aloud which jacket I should bring for the trip. My mom walked in my room and told me to not bring everything listed, and that I could exclude the jacket. But I knew the jacket was one of the most important items in the Ten Essentials, so I argued  back. My mom tried reasoning with me, and said, “It’s May, the weather isn’t that cold!” I told her that there was a real possibility the temperature could suddenly drop, and I could very likely become an “ice statue.” After all, I need to live up to the Scout Motto, “Be Prepared.” Now I had triggered my mom’s incredibly famous and short temper. Her Shanghai dialect started streaming out, rising in volume as she went. Soon her voice was echoing around my room, towering above me like a sinister fortress, with an invisible white hot fire surrounding her as the words shot out at me. Anyone foolish to disagree with her would have a nasty ending (all this description is exaggeration, of course), but I did. After she finished yelling, I calmly went over to the closet, pulled out a jacket and stuffed it in the pack. My mom looked like she was about to burst, but she said nothing.

Around 7am, my mom dropped me off with the rest of the troop. The moment I stepped out of the car , I knew that I had made the correct decision to take the jacket along. Then I saw my mom change her mind as she stepped out of the car as well. As she shivered in her shorts and short sleeve shirt, I walked up to her and said, “I told you it was going to be cold.” She admitted defeat and started to walk in circles to keep herself warm. When all the Scouts had arrived, we started the trip. I was even more grateful for bringing the jacket because the first leg of the journey was downhill, and the cold wind would have whipped at me if I had not brought protection. But the others weren’t so lucky. Most of them didn’t have jackets or sweaters and were shivering uncontrollably. Finally, one of them couldn’t handle the cold anymore, and had to stop. He was right in front of me, so I also stopped to check if everything was all right. Well not everything was OK. This guy’s shivering looked like spasms, so I rummaged in my pack only to find that “one jacket” turned out to be two. Just as I handed my fellow Scout the extra sweater, our Scoutmaster stopped next to us. He congratulated me for “Being Prepared” and for being able “To Help Other People At All times.” My fellow Scout’s spasms died down, so we continued our trip. Apart from exhausting us, the trip was uneventful.

Well, it was worth the risk to stand up to my near-lunatic mom. I learned that sometimes you just have to stand your ground and be stubborn for a successful life. It was quite lucky that I was stubborn, or else my fellow Scout and I could have  both ended up as “ice statues."

Letter To Our School Principal

Dear Mr. Martinez,

Hello! I am a seventh grader at El Roble. Recently, I read an article in The New York Times about how physical fitness relates to students doing well in school. The main idea of the article is showing that kids who are fit and more active do better in academics and school. So, I am writing this letter to suggest to you, even with a forty-minute session of PE everyday, it would be awesome to have some active things included in some of the other five periods.

Instead of only having PE as the only active class session, we could make English, Biology, SSR, and History, active class times as well.

For English, how about acting out the plays instead of just reading them. From the plays, we can learn English literature, grammar, and vocabulary. Learning these things by acting out the them out not only is fun, but also might allow the students to boost these facts in their brains. Meanwhile, the physical activities help students to do better on overall academics.

What do you think of when the words science or biology are mentioned, Mr. Martinez? Well, I think of looking around and observing. Most of the observing that we have done before was done inside. But why not observe an open world?

The  students could take a scientific walk around the campus and enjoy the sun while making observations about the structures and nature.These observations sure would be more interesting than some in any old classroom.

It’s really great that you have Opportunity Time in SSR because you can work in the garden and that’s really active. But for the people who don’t participate in Opportunity Time, the SSR teacher could organize a lively and fun game that everyone loves. One idea is Tag, but with one little tweak. Each person gets three “lives” so everyone can stay moving for a longer time. There are many more games the students can play, the options are almost limitless.

Being active in History is very similar to English. The kids can have fun acting out some scenes or battles from history. Acting something out and memorizing the information is definitely easier and more experiential than reading from a heavy textbook and learning by heart all the dates of important events in history. Performing a battle might appeal to some of the kids who don’t pay attention in class and could make their grades in History more satisfactory. Again this activeness leads back to the issue of how fit kids perform better in overall school work.

I hope you really consider my suggestion. This plan does not require any money, and also will win lots of parents’ support. I wish to see you put my plan into action! In a short time, you will notice all the benefits of it. Thank you!

Sincerely,
Justin W.

The Yamaha Stringless Piano

 

    David Pogue, a well known New York Times Newspaper writer who especially writes about new electronics, wrote about a new series of stringless, electric Yamaha pianos, called the N1, N2, N3, and NU1 (AvantGrand Series). Sensors replace the strings, with sounds recorded from the world’s best piano. When the hammer hits down upon the sensors, the recorded sound is played through a set of high-end speakers, which produces such a realistic sound, it can fool many hard-core pianists.

    I particularly appreciate the detail that these hybrid pianos never need tuning. Tuning is very expensive (around $100), and takes a lot of time. Also, the soundtracks are reproduced from the world’s best piano, so one can get almost as high quality a sound as the best piano, and, in the meantime, save thousands of dollars. I also like the fact that if I live in an apartment or condo, I can turn down the volume or listen to my playing through headphones to prevent my neighbors from screaming and yelling at me when I am practicing at one in the morning. It is also great for people who don’t have very big houses, because the pianos in the Avantgrand series are really compact, yet imitate the sounds of nine-foot grand pianos.

 

The Return of the Wolves to the French Alps

Recently, there has been a big issue on the news about the gray wolves coming back to the French Alps, an area where more than sixty thousand French herders still use to herd livestock. This way of livestock farming is one of the last natural and ecological methods.

Back in the 1930s, the herders and farmers that lived in the French Alps had hunted the gray wolves to extinction with some official encouragement. But within fifty years of the gray wolf's extinction, the animal was made a protected species throughout Europe. By 1992, the first pack of wolves re-entered the French territory from the Italian borders. The conservationists were very happy, and the populations of the gray wolves grew steadily.

 Even though the conservationists were happy for the return of the wolves, that did not mean everyone was. The shepherds are becoming increasingly annoyed, because the growing number of wolves keep attacking the sheep. Since these wolves are protected species, the herders cannot shoot them, which allows the wolves to take as many sheep as they can. The shepherds have been asking the government permission to hunt the wolves. They refused, but the government hired Great Pyrenees guard dogs that trot along with the herd. So now the shepherds have started to take action in trying to stop the wolves from attacking their sheep. Each night, some owners lock the livestock in a kind of structure to protect the animals and they hire more hands to help out. Even with the French government spending millions of euros to reimburse the herders, the herders only earn around the minimum wage.

The wolves, on the other hand, don’t have any stress in surviving. The small group of wolves has a large amount of prey available to them. Because of the easy kills, their populations have been growing more than twenty percent a year. The small delicate pack that crossed the Italian borders to France has now swelled to more than 250.

So far, I sympathize with the wolves. Although the wolves have done a lot of damage to the livestock, the wolves are still endangered in France. If the French government authorized the killing now, the wolves would go extinct very quickly again. Then, it would take a long time for the wolves to return to the French territory again.

I like it that the French government is reimbursing the herders for the lost livestock, and providing the guard dogs, but they really don’t seem to be thinking of ways to stop the attacks.

I have a couple of suggestions on how to maybe reduce the number of attacks from the wolves. The government could build some kind of moveable barrier around the area where the shepherds herd their sheep. That should stop most of the wolves, and the guard dogs could take care of the rest.

Another plan is to introduce a new species into the ecosystem that won’t affect the balance of nature. Some of the wolves might start hunting the new species instead of the sheep, and that should decrease the loss of the livestock.

The government could also provide the herders with more guard dogs. Instead of the usual ratio of around 200 sheep to a dog, it should become 100 sheep to a dog. The herders would have twice as many dogs and most likely feel more secure.

I hope the French government will do something about this issue soon. If this continues, it could get very ugly.

My Energetic Hands

    My hand are rough, but can be very gentle. They are small and chubby, but surprisingly strong. With my hands, they can play the piano and dance gracefully down the black and white keys. My hands can hold a book and as I read, I dream of a faraway place. They can swing a golf club when I play golf with my family on the weekends and bring me pleasure as the club hits the ball with a satisfying thud. With my hands, I can hit a tennis ball with my racket and feel the fierce pride coursing through me as I successfully ace my opponent. My energetic hands allow me to swim fast on the swim team. They also allow me to splash my friends while we cool down in the pool under the hot blazing sun. If it weren't for my hands, I wouldn't be able to help younger children wash scratches or put a bandage on their cuts. If I didn't have my hands, I would not be able to tickle fight with my dad when he comes to say good night to me. I wouldn't be able to paint or sketch, which I like doing. In all, my hands have become my favorite part of me. I love my hands, as I do with the rest of my body.

Robby’s Wish

 

Robby woke up this morning and started to sneeze. He shivered and glanced at himself in the mirror. “I’ve grown a lot here in USA,” he thought. He sneezed again and blew his nose. Robby Chai was an eight-year old Chinese kid and had jet black hair and eyes. Robby suddenly became cold and hurried to get a sweater over his pajamas. As he was fetching the sweater, he peeked into the empty room that belonged to his grandparents. Now Robby missed his grandparents in China. He had grown up with them since he was brought back to China just two months after his birth in L.A. A special bond created immediately between his grandparents and himself. But his parents took hims to USA because they thought school in China was too exhausting for little Robby. This was good in some ways, but it had its disadvantages. It was almost winter break now and the holidays were coming, Robby missed his grandparents badly.

    Robby was a huge fan of Ironman. He wished that the iron suit would would come true. Then he could visit his grandparents whenever he wanted. Robby pictured himself blasting off in a shining iron suit at over 5,000 miles per hour. He thought of flying over the clouds, whipping past birds, and  waving to people on airplanes and even jets from the US Air Force. Then,within an hour, he would show up at his grandparents’ window, hovering as close as he could get. It would be dark outside because of the different time zone and he could see his dear grandpa and grandma sitting on the sofa, watching TV, with cozy blankets around them and lamps basking them with golden lights. Sometimes they would chat quietly about the show and sip on steaming jasmine tea. Robby also saw in his wide mind his old metal matchbox cars lined up in a glass door closet in the back of the room. They must have been polished recently, for they caught the faint light and gleamed dimly.

    Robby suddenly shook his head violently to get his mind back to reality. He knew that high-tech stuff like Ironman was too advanced. But he believed that one day, it would be possible. One day, distance would not be an issue. Then Robby remembered that it was Thursday morning and he still had school. He quickly brushed his teeth, changed into school clothes, and followed the aroma of breakfast sizzling downstairs.

    As Robby and his parents were eating the delicious breakfast consisting of eggs, pancakes, sausages and fresh orange juice, Robby brought up the subject of going back to China. He retold them about the Ironman idea, what he imagined his grandparents were doing, and everything else he had thought about while upstairs. “I do agree that the Ironman idea is too extreme with the technology right now,” Dad replied thoughtfully, “But you’re right, Robby in the future, Ironman is definitely possible.” Mom also piped up, “ At first we wanted to surprise you, but we won’t keep in away from you any longer. We’re going to China on winter break! And it’s been such a long time since we’ve been in China when it snowed,” she added as an afterthought.

     Robby got so excited that he nearly fell out of his chair. His wish had come true, although not exactly the way he wanted it to!

In My Life Poem

 

I wonder where my life came from

I hear voices everywhere

I see the secrets from my palm

I want my family around

I am thankful for doing nothing wrong.

I pretend to go back to when I was five

I feel the piano teacher smiling warmly at me

I touch my first keys of the piano

I worry that I can’t play well

I cry tears of joy when I win a trophy

I am thankful for learning piano.

I understand that I’m not a baby anymore

I say to myself life goes on

I dream of being a medical doctor

I try to help make human life long

                                 I am thankful for everything right I have done.

A Terra-fic Trip With My Grandparents

 

    In the summer of third grade, our family stayed in China for an unusually long time. Because we stayed so long, my grandparents were able to take us to different places in China. That year, we went to Xi’an to visit my grandma’s sister and to take me to see the legendary Terracotta Warriors. Also, my grandparents hadn’t been there for a long time, so they wanted to see if there had been any progress in the excavation.

    A week after landing in Shanghai, my grandparents, mom, and I bought overnight train tickets to Xi’an. I was really excited, because it was my first time sleeping on a train.  When we arrived at our room, I noticed there were two sets of bunks, which meant we could have a whole cabin to ourselves. We settled in the spacious room, and after watching the high-speed train cut through many different landscapes, my grandpa pulled out his computer and we started to play Plants vs. Zombies. Late in the evening, when my grandpa and I finally finished the 30 level game, we got some dinner that was being sold on the train. My grandpa and I started playing again, and played deep into the night. We fell asleep instantly after we finished another extremely hard game. Everyone slept peacefully, and by the time we were packed up the next morning the train had stopped in Xi’an.

    On the train platform, we searched for one of my uncles, who was there to pick us up. We immediately boarded my uncle’s car, and with his awesome street racing skills,  the car zoomed toward my grandma’s sister’s house. In the house, we got a very roomy bedroom. My uncle loved games, and in our free time, my grandpa and I played all the different games my uncle had downloaded. My grandma’s sister was also an excellent cook, and I bet I must have gained five pounds during the three days I was there.

    The best part of the trip was the Terracotta Warriors. This tomb was made around 220 BC for the Qin Dynasty emperor, Qin Shi Huang. The emperor wanted full-sized terracotta statues of soldiers, horses, chariots, and servants to serve and protect him in the afterlife. My grandparents were shocked that a new, even bigger excavation had been created.  But the last time they had been there was about 15 years ago, so I thought it made sense that a lot of progress had been made.

    My grandpa and I raced off immediately to examine the Qin soldiers’ armour and weapons while my grandma and mom looked at the ladies’ clothing in the Qin Dynasty. My grandpa and I found the armour and weapons really interesting. The soldiers’ armour was made of little metal squares linked together by iron rings. The Qin soldiers also used many types of weapons. There were crossbows, longbows, battleaxes, straight and curved swords, dirks, spears, throwing javelins, and little daggers. My favorite weapon was the lightweight crossbow that had a magazine so the soldiers could shoot the bolts faster. My grandpa said that his favorite was the fearsome and razor sharp axe that caused mass destruction in battle. The guides that we had taught me a lot about the history of China. I especially liked reading about the famous battles in history.

   Our last day was just spent playing games with my grandparents, and of course, stuffing myself full with the delicious food that could only be prepared with my grandma and her sister together. The train trip back to Shanghai was comfortable and uneventful. This has probably been the best vacation back to China that I have had so far!