Peephutpmei: A Cambodian Restaurant in Lowell

The entrance sign

    Something that everyone told me before coming to college was that I would find many opportunities to be exposed to a wide variety of cultures. As someone who came to school from a small, ethnically-limited  town in New York, I was especially intrigued by the promise of expanding my cultural boundaries. What I didn’t realize, however, was that culture can be learned about in very interesting and even subtle ways. For example, I never thought that going to a ethnic restaurant would be considered as engaging with a new culture; I guess a life of seeing Chinese buffet restaurants had numbed me to that idea. Recently, however, an experience with a foreign restaurant changed my mind about that idea. My recent visit to a Cambodian restaurant known as Peephuptmei has given me an insight into Lowell’s Cambodian culture (and given me some good food to boot).

    

A look at one of the ads

    I wasn’t really sure what to expect from the Cambodian restaurant, in all honesty. While my palate isn’t very diverse ethnically speaking, I’ve still had a taste of a good amount of foods from China. Ireland, Great Britain, and Spain. Even with this experience, I had never eaten any Cambodian food; I didn’t even have an idea of what it would taste like. I wasn’t expecting some kind of food that would taste completely different than anything I had ever had in my life, but at the same time, I wasn’t quite sure what other foods I had eaten in my life to compare it to. Because of this, my expectations for the Cambodian restaurant were rather flexible.

    

    My expectations became even more flexible when my friends and I arrived at Peephuptmei. The sign above the entrance had something written in Khmer (I’d assume it was the name of the restaurant). There were posters on the windows advertising multiple kinds of smoothies and even screenings of Cambodian films (again, all in Khmer). The interior of the restaurant was even more intriguing; many objects in the building were kind shade of pink or green. All of the cold drinks (except for the smoothies) were sold in a big refrigerator, the tables and chairs were arranged less like a normal restaurant and more like a communal space, what I would assume to be Cambodian pop played in the background, and the TV played what appeared to be scenes from some Cambodian version of American Idol. Suffice it to say, the atmosphere of the restaurant was certainly interesting, but at the same time, it was very inviting. The people who ran the restaurant were all very nice, and the restaurant as a whole was very clean. Based on these initial impressions, I was looking forward to the meal.

    

    When we finally got our meals, however, I was rather surprised to see how similarly they resembled and tasted like foods that I had seen and eaten before. Granted, that is in no way a criticism, but it made me realize how unrealistic the expectations that I had were. I shouldn’t have been expecting some incredibly different, otherworldly-looking food, I should have been expecting a good meal and inviting atmosphere; the tenets of a quality eating experience are always the same, no matter where you eat it and who made it. In that respect, the meal was quite delicious; I ordered Cambodian beef strips and white rice, and it was probably the best meal I had that week. The meat wasn’t too rough to eat off the stick it came on, and the rice tasted excellent as well. The other people that I went with ordered things like noodles mixed with vegetables and traditionally prepared soups, and their opinions of their meals was just as positive as mine. Later on in the meal, one of my friends received an avocado smoothie and another got a strawberry smoothie. While I tend not to like smoothies very much (they can be too sweet for my tastes), I was quite surprised by their tastes. They both managed to be very refreshing without being too watery and sugary, all while maintaining the taste of whatever they were trying to imitate. All together, it was a very pleasant dining experience.

    

    Overall, I would certainly recommend Peephuptmei to anyone in Lowell looking to expand their minds when it comes to food and dining experiences. The food was great, the surroundings were intriguing, and it makes you want to come back for more. I know I will certainly be visiting the restaurant again in the future.

   

A Weekend with Howard Levy: UMass Lowell Workshops

      One of the things that I’ve learned since coming to college is that, while I’m not a terrible musician, I still have a long ways to go if I want to become as great of a professional musician as the famous musicians today. Even though I don’t have any plans of performing for a living, I do think it’s important for any person working in music to have as good of an understanding of music that they can. In order for a person to become better at music (or anything in life), however, there are usually two things that one can do; either practice, or learn from someone who is proven to know their field. In the case of the latter, it’s sometimes hard to find someone to learn from, but when you do, the knowledge that one can gain is invaluable. I recently learned this in a series of workshops with Howard Levy, who is known for playing harmonica with Bela Fleck and the Flecktones. Being a part of Howard Levy’s workshops has helped me to become a better musician and appreciate the opportunities to grow here in Lowell.

The stage of the workshop (Levy on piano)

      My intentions of going to these workshops were to gain experience, but not in the way one would expect. Recently, I had landed a job as part of the technical staff in Durgin Hall. I thought that working as part of a tech crew would give me a lot of experience and knowledge for live sound and general technical setup, and this particular job would give me expertise in setting up equipment for a major talent.

      
      In all honesty, I was not very familiar with Howard Levy before working. I had only heard his name in passing and in reference to Bela Fleck (who I had heard of). That’s not to say he was a relative unknown to me; my parents are big fans of his work, both with Bela and on his own. My father in particular is a big fan of Levy; when I told him that I would be tech work for his workshops, he became very excited, telling me stories of listening to the Flecktones’ albums with friends and family. With this in mind, I was intrigued to see Levy live and in person.

      
      After setting up the stage in one of Durgin’s recital halls, Howard Levy arrived and got accustomed to the stage, and the workshop began. There wasn’t much more work to after getting everything set, so I was able to watch the workshop. As an introduction, Levy went over who he was and his musical experience, but it was when he began playing the piano and harmonica that people truly took notice. There have been plenty of times in my life when I have been humbled by another musician, and this was certainly one of them. Suffice it to say, the man’s skill on both instruments is impeccable. His piano playing was precise and complex, and his harmonica playing was particularly impressive; I had never thought of the harmonica of a complex instrument, but Levy definitely proved me wrong. The ways that he incorporated breath and throat noises into playing the harmonica made it sound as if he was conducting a orchestra of small horns. Just from this one introduction, I knew that the audience and I were in for something great.

      
      I mentioned before about being humbled by Levy’s playing, but I became even more humbled by his knowledge of music that he shared with us. Over the course of the four workshops he held during the weekend, he went over concepts that were as simple as playing separate patterns with left and right hands on the piano to as complex as polyrhythms (two rhythms added and played together) to improvisation based mainly on Western and Indian styles. He also gave out sheet music for some of his pieces that he had performed with various groups, including one called “Sweet Pomegranates.” He kept saying that he was attempting to cram weeks’ worth of teaching into four three-hour sessions, and while some topics were difficult to fully grasp, it was aminly a feeling of wanting to incorporate this knowledge into all of our music; it was almost like Christmas day, but for musicians. He also managed to keep things interesting with anecdotes about his time with the Flecktones and other groups.

      
      Overall, each of this workshops with Howard Levy were both enjoyable and mind-opening, a real treat being able to observe a truly gifted musician express his knowledge of what he loves doing. If anything, it helped affirm every student’s desire to become professional musicians in some way. I am incredibly glad that I was able to attend thes workshops, and I implore everyone reading this to seek out more knowledge about Levy if they don’t already know him.

UMass Lowell VS. Quinnipiac U (10/18)

    For as long as I can remember, I have always loved going to sporting events. Some of my favorite memories as a child growing up involved going to baseball games in New York City to watch the Mets play (even though half of my family were Yankees fans). If I had to give a single reason as to why I love these events, I would say it’s because of the sense of community that these games foster. The feeling of unity and togetherness that these sports can create amongst people can be unparalleled at times compared to other mediums. In that sense, college sports games can be extremely important to a college student’s social and personal development, especially in freshman year. Despite the loss to Quinnipiac University bringing spirits down, the UMass Lowell hockey game on October 18 helped me to connect with fellow students and appreciate UML even more.

A look at the ice rink

     Before the event, I had no idea of what to expect. Interestingly enough, while I am a fan of sporting events, I had never been to a hockey game before this one. It was probably because hockey has never been as big of a deal in Albany, NY as it is in Boston, or maybe it was just a lack of interest on my part (if I remember correctly, Albany had a hockey team for a little while, but I never went to their games). In any case, I was excited to see the Riverhawks in action. I had heard so much about their previous history, including their ascension into the Frozen Four last year. It seemed like whenever UML was mentioned, the Riverhawks were immediately mentioned too. With this in mind, I was ridiculously pumped to see this game.

    When I first got into the Tsongas Arena with friends, I was immediately struck by the grand scope of the arena itself. I had been in Tsongas for events like Open House and Convocation, but I had never realized the grand scope of its interior until this game. Everything looked pristine and clean down to the last spot, and everyone working the booths and concession stands was very friendly.

A small blimp that dropped free goodies

    Of course, the reason I was there to begin with was for the hockey game, and for the most part, it didn’t disappoint. The Riverhawks played quite well against Quinnipiac, and even though we ended up losing 4-1, the game was still tense, particularly in a final period that made us believe that the Riverhawks could win this one. Granted, my hockey knowledge was limited at best (I didn’t know that hockey only had three periods), but even without knowing certain things, I still enjoyed the game.

    The thing that I was most impressed with, however, was the crowd supporting the Riverhawks. While the other sides of the arena were modestly filled in support for Quinnipiac, the seats were absolutely packed for UML. I had always thought that my high school games had great crowds, but that thought quickly faded when I saw UML’s crowd. Not only were the seats filled, but everyone there had such a great energy. The students had many chants and yells that were used throughout the game. For instance, the crowd would put their hands up and wiggle their fingers, as if they were trying to scare the opposing team. At another time, the crowd would chant “Fred C. Church!” whenever his name was announced, since his firm sponsors the power plays. The best moment of all, though, was the reaction to the one goal that the Riverhawks made. All at once, every single UML student in the building stood up and cheered their hearts out for a good couple of minutes. The feeling of pride was present in every one of us there, and in some way, it brought all of us closer together. Even later on when we lost to Quinnipiac, I still felt some pride in the team and in the fact that they would definitely come back with a vengeance next time (And they did; the Riverhawks won the two games following that). I would go back to the arena just to be around the UML fans again.

    As we were leaving the Tsongas Arena, I felt a sense of unity with my fellow classmates that I had not felt before. Even though we lost, I knew that our energy would be back in time for the next game, and when that happened, we wouldn’t let the other team win so easily. My first experience with UML hockey games was fantastic, and I encourage all other students to check them out in the near future.

The Serious Amram Jam: A Reflection on the Lowell Celebrates Kerouac Festival

            It’s interesting to consider the kinds of people that have lived and passed through a town. So many times, people only consider the place that they live in terms of the negative and present, but it helps to remember that, aside from the memories that we build on our own, the places that we call our homes have their own history and have been the residence or even birthplace of brilliant men and women. Considering this, it’s only natural that people would want to commemorate the history of their town. One such example of this is the Lowell Celebrates Kerouac Festival in Lowell, Massachusetts dedicated to the famous writer, Jack Kerouac. The Kerouac Festival (and specifically the Amram Jam on Sunday) has done a fantastic job in creating a sense of community and hometown pride while channeling the energy of (and humanizing) one of America’s greatest writers.

            

The first thing that struck me about the Kerouac Festival was how well planned out it appeared to be. This wasn’t just some little get-together on a Sunday afternoon; it was a full-blown event spanning from Thursday (10/10) to Monday (10/13) that involved everything from nature walks to concerts and poetry readings. It truly seemed like there was some kind of activity planned for everyone, which speaks volumes to the planning that must have gone into this event. 

The activity that I chose to go to was the Serious Amram Jam on Sunday at Lowell Beerworks. It took place in a reasonably-sized room towards the edge of the restaurant that could seat about fifty people. It mainly involved local or national poets and musicians sharing their work and/or love of Kerouac in numerous ways; some recited original poems, some read select passages from Kerouac’s novels detailing his life in Lowell, and some even used instruments to express their feelings. While all of this happened, an elderly man (whom I later learned was Mr. David Amram) sat and played piano and the occasional drum. Sometimes he would accompany the poets, and sometimes he would even join the musicians in their jams. Each element came together to give the activity a very relaxed and inviting atmosphere.

It was around the last jam session that I began to understand the influence that Jack Kerouac had on these people. Some of these poets and musicians had come from as far as Texas and California to share their work and bond with others over their love of Kerouac. It all seems incredible when one considers that Kerouac was once a normal person who walked the streets of Lowell like many college students.

This is a point that was first put into my head during a walking tour of the many places that Kerouac used to visit as a child. While it can be nigh impossible to truly imagine what a person was thinking at a specific place, the tour helped me to gain some understanding of who Kerouac was as a person and not the famous wordsmith that many see. Walking on the sidewalk and observing the grotto, stations of the cross, funeral homes, and library made me realize that young Kerouac was a person who grew up just like many of us; he had good days and bad days, he had his hobbies, and most importantly, the places that he frequented in Lowell helped him to develop into the person he eventually became. Just think; someone else could have experienced the same things that Kerouac did at a young age, yet that person could have built up a completely different worldview. On the other hand, someone who was growing up in Lowell at the same time as Kerouac could have had a completely different set of experiences and memories of the town, even though they grew up at the same time and in the same place. It’s these early memories that helped to define Kerouac as a person and eventually a writer, and it’s this energy that has inspired countless writers, poets, and musicians to follow in Kerouac’s footsteps. Even though Kerouac’s writings are mainly about exploration and freedom from one place, his beginnings in Lowell set the foundation for many of his novels’ most resonant themes. 

The Amram Jam and Kerouac Festival in general have helped me to recognize the importance of Kerouac’s impact of the city of Lowell and the effects that one’s hometown can have on their lives. The idea that seemingly unrelated people would come from all over the country to celebrate the ideals of one man still boggles my mind. I hope that I will be able to go again next year, and I’m sure it will make me feel as welcome as it did this year.

A VIsit To The Boott Cotton Mill & Museum In Lowell

      There are times when you are reminded that you have it much better, in terms of health and quality of life, than others in the world and especially people who lived in the past. That reminder can come in many different forms; it can be a television special on the working conditions of Foxconn buildings, where many products from companies like Apple and Nintendo, or it can be as simple as Eddie Vedder covering a James Taylor song about a young girl working in the mills. In my opinion, however, the best way to place yourself in the shoes of someone less fortunate is to visit the places that are so often talked about. A local example of this is the old Boott Cotton mill, which has now become a museum about the mill. My visit to the Boott Cotton Museum (as well as the Foxconn documentary and Eddie Vedder cover) has educated me on the conditions of those who work in these mills and factories when they are only useful for what they can produce.

The front of the Boott Cotton Museum

    

      The very first thing I noticed about the Boott Cotton Mill was the courtyard area within the mill. While there was not a cloud in the sky on the day I and some friends went and the people who take care of the mill had done a great job of preserving the building, I could only imagine how the workers years ago must have felt. The courtyard was essentially a box, and considering that the sky would be hard to see with the smoke emanating from the buildings and the somewhat bland-looking buildings themselves, it must have been a very bleak place to relax in between work sessions. If this was what the outside was like, I thought, the inside must have been even worse.

The courtyard of the mill

    

      For the most part, I was right; the inside of the mill only confirmed my concerns on the working conditions of the workers. The first room of the museum (after an information desk) was the weave room, a relatively large room consisting of dozens of weaving machines. The machines were in straight lines running vertically across the room, in a manner similar to an assembly line. A sign outside stated that the room was not an exact replication; the noise wasn’t as loud, not every machine was running, and the air was (thankfully) not filled with cotton particles. Even with these considerations, it still looked like a terrible place to work; the sign even read, “Try to imagine working all day, day after day for years, in the mills.”

The Weave Room

    

      The weave room actually reminded me of the working rooms in Foxconn today. They both have the same assembly line style of production, and both places seem to be absolutely terrible places to work, where each worker is thought of not as a human being, but as a machine that is swiftly replaced as soon as it is rendered useless. Both places also seem to be known for the abuse that their workers endure, whether it be physical (a video interview of the millworkers in the museum was full of stories of injuries and deaths) or mental (the stress put on Foxconn workers has been so great that the company had to implement nets to catch suicidal workers).

    

      If there is anything that the mill museum does incredibly well, it’s that it gives a great view into the lives of the workers. Aside from the aforementioned video and weave room, there are exhibits on the various different kinds of workers and their positions and purpose in the mill, physical examples of the fabric that the workers would produce, various testimonies and quotes from millworkers, and scale models of the mill itself. Each of these things, like Eddie Vedder’s cover of “Millworker,” convey the trials that the workers went through every day, thus humanizing the people who were considered means to an end by the people who ran the mills.

    
      My visit to the Boott Cotton Mill/Museum has helped me understand the working conditions and overall quality of life of millworkers in ways that people like Eddie Vedder and James Taylor have communicated before. It has also made me sympathize with workers who are facing these issues today in companies like Foxconn. While I may never truly understand what it was/is like to work in places like these, I believe that this experience has taught me to not take the good things in my life for granted.

God of Carnage: A Review of the Merrimack Repertory Theatre's Production

      I have to admit, as a person who was involved with musicals in high schools, I haven’t seen that many plays. Perhaps this was due to the limited opportunities in my town to see them, or maybe it was just a lack of interest, which is strange to me because plenty of people that I’ve known rave about plays. Despite this, I think that my experience with musicals has helped me to form certain expectations when it comes to stage productions, and when a play exceeds those expectations, like on Thursday night, I take notice. The Merrimack Repertory Theatre’s production of God of Carnage was an excellent play that used a simple premise and satire to say quite a bit about humans and our base instincts.
      

The GoC playbill

      The plot of the play is actually quite basic and small compared to other plays. After a fight on the playground leaves a young boy injured, the parents of the injured child arrange a meeting with the parents of the other child to determine punishments and smooth over any tensions. Both sets of parents appear cordial and cooperative, but after events ranging from one of the husbands taking too many business calls to one of the wives puking from anxiety, the afternoon takes a sour turn for the worse, with each person becoming more and more like children.

      
      Unlike most plays that I’ve seen, I had actually heard a bit about God of Carnage before seeing it. A couple of my friends were talking about the play when it first came out in 2006, saying that it was one of the best plays they had seen in their lives. I only really started to pay attention, however, when Roman Polanski directed a film version in 2011, starring Jodie Foster, Kate Winslet, Christoph Waltz and John C. Reilly (who was someone that I had not thought of as a dramatic actor). The movie received relatively good reviews, but for some reason, the story stayed in my head for a while. There was something so simple, yet so elegant about the basic premise that made it stand out.

      
      When my friends and I arrived at the Merrimack Repertory Theatre, I was struck by how beautiful it was, both inside and out. It may have just been because it looked very similar to a theater that I used to visit in my hometown, but the theatre felt very comforting and familiar; I might go see more plays there just based on the atmosphere it gives off.

The outside of the Merrimack Repertory Theatre

      
      Of course, the reason we were there was not for the building, but for God of Carnage. The play began with a black stage and tribal chants that grew louder and louder until abruptly stopping, and the lights came up on the four parents discussing the incident. The opening set up the contrast between the cultured appearance of the parents and the baser human instincts that gradually revealed themselves.

The inside of the theatre

      
      It must be said that the performances of the four actors were all stellar. Each of them were capable of believably transitioning from polite with condescending undertones to full-blown savagery within the play’s 80-minute run time. Judith Lightfoot-Clarke (the actress playing Veronica) was particularly excellent as the one who seemed like the most adult and responsible person in the room, yet eventually ended up hitting others like a young girl having a temper tantrum. Laura Latreille (playing Annette) was also excellent, especially towards the end of the play, when she supplies most of the laughs by becoming a bit too tipsy for her own good.
      

      Speaking of laughs, this play was chock full of humor. A few of the jokes in the beginning involving lawyers and house life flew over my head and seemed to be meant for the older members of the audience, but after the aforementioned puking scene, the play was firing on all cylinders; it was easy to tell that the actors were having such a blast on stage. 
      
      If there was anything that I would say was lacking, it would be the ending. The play builds and builds momentum as the couples argue, but it just sort of ends with all of them feeling exhausted and defeated. I would have appreciated more closure to the story (as a side note, I was researching the film version, and apparently, that version ends with the two kids reconciling on their own. While this review is not for the movie, I thought that was a great way of ending the story).

      Overall, I would recommend God of Carnage (and the Merrimack Repertory Theatre’s production in particular, if there is still time to see it) to anyone in a heartbeat. The story was simple yet enticing, the performances of and interplay between the actors was fantastic, and the contrast between our appearances and our more internal desires and feelings was well communicated. Even though I have little experience with plays, I know for a fact that God of Carnage is one of the best plays I’ve ever seen.