Another thing I noticed in my five days in Japan was the prevalence of train travel everywhere. The overhead cables and the multitude of train tracks just adds an air of nostalgia to the place, as though everyone is still living in colonial times.

Even though I was only there for about a week, I can take a whack at what makes this mode of transport so appealing.

First, it’s communal. It’s like being put into a social experiment, where different walks of people are forced into a box and they are observed for their reactions. Sure everyone does their own thing, but even that can be a lesson in social behavior as well.

Second, it’s romantic. Just the chug of the wheels below you, the rushing scenery, and the rumbling hum, it gets people to fall in love with travelling. Since trains connect the various cities in Japan quite extensively, many natives probably use it for inter-city travel.

It’s calming. It takes you away from the world’s trouble for that time. Your mind drifts and you’re allowed to ponder about life or whatever that matters to you. For once, you don’t have to feel guilty for spacing out!

Lastly, it’s fast and cheap. Even without the bullet versions, trains are still fast and a good way for mass transportation. Yes planes fly faster but they’re more expensive and you have to deal with airport security, which probably loses the time advantage anyway. With trains you just hop on, zip, and then you’re there.

When I went to Japan for a leisurely 5-day trip, I expected to be awed by historic castles, temples, and the beautiful Japanese girls. What I got, however, was a spitting machine. I’m referring to vending machines, the kind that everyone knows drops a can of Coke or a bar of chocolate when you put coins in.

But here in Japan, they take it a step further. These machines are everywhere, and they sell all kinds of things. Starbucks and MacDonalds, at most, will have one at each block. With vending machines, it’s one in front of each shop or goods store. They come in different colours, sizes, and even form (see photos below).

It’s like a self-service nation in a country where they pride themselves for their superior service. I find the paradox fascinating. Check this out: you can buy cigarettes from a vending machine, and supposedly the machine wireless scans your ID card to see if you’re old enough to buy one. Then there’s the sign: “These drinks are free in an emergency situation” like an earthquake or other natural disaster.

Discovering little unexpected treasures is what makes travelling so exciting. The topic may not make for exciting photos, but they still can be documented, and it perfectly suits my photojournalism training. Here’s hoping that I get to travel more and frequently so that I can discover little secrets like these for my camera to capture.

Singapore, March 20, 2009: After a hot and dry February, the rain made up for part of it today with two different occasions of heavy rainfall. Along the East Coast Parkway, traveling cars leave mist trails, cooling highway-lined vegetation that suffered last month.

Ann Arbor, Mich., Oct. 26, 2009: A woman analyzes one of the finalists of 4th annual photo competition by the Center of Chinese Studies at the University of Michigan. The year’s theme — “China: Global/Local” — aims to show how China has broadened itself politically, economically and culturally. The photos are on exhibit till Oct. 31, at the School of Social Work.

Ann Arbor, Mich., Oct. 21, 2009: A wireless microphone hangs on Logan Elementary School teacher Katy LaCroix’s neck, whose voice is transmitted into the new “soundfield” system for easy listening. The microphone and speakers on the ceiling are part of the latest technology plan implemented in Ann Arbor public schools. (Ted Chen)

Personally I was stunned by the clarity of the voice through the system, which relies on 4 flat speakers built into the ceiling. Having the microphone hang on the teacher’s neck is also an ingenious idea as it frees up the hands to do all the other tasks teachers need to do — writing and holding things up for show being some of them. Now there’s no excuse for kids sitting in the back to say that they can’t hear the teacher or classmates’ voices.

So maybe ‘legendary’ is a little overstating it, but Spencer Platt is one of the most established photojournalists out there today. This photo happened earlier this year, while I was still in New York, and had arranged to tail the Getty Images photographer on one of his daily shooting assignments. The whole ‘operation’ probably lasted no more than two to three hours, but it was a humbling-yet-nourishing experience seeing him work and simply chatting over coffee.

Image courtesy of NPPA

Memories of this day rushed back as I read his “Notes on the Field” on the latest issue of Digital Journalist, a monthly, online magazine. Looking at his shocking photos of Somali refugees in Kenya, I was reminded of his photos taken on 9/11 and in Beirut, one of which won the high honor in the World Press Photo awards. His photos are technically simple, yet they convey brutal truths of the world to anyone who views them. My interactions with Platt also gave me hints that he’s a straight shooter — he behaves cool and collected, but he’s fully aware of reality around him and in the world.

I believe that’s why he’s traveled to Lebanon in wartime, and now to Kenya. When he hears about an social issue that needs to be covered, he goes. It’s a noble characteristic that I admire greatly. Photojournalism was my original intention when I turned a pro shooter, yet I find it so difficult to cover what needs to be covered, without the insurance, the backing of a media organization. Perhaps the biggest challenge to a photojournalist is to have the courage to dive into the middle of the ocean on your own, with all your gear and no life jacket.

Right now I’m leaning on other genres of photography to make rent and keep my refrigerator full, but I still harbor ‘fantasies’ of being a full fledged photojournalist. I rely on inspiration from great photographers. Spencer Platt’s one of them, and I’m honored to have met him, even if I never quite reach to his heights.

Ann Arbor, Mich., Sept. 4, 2009: About forty students, new and old, crowd around Ulrich’s bookstore on the corner of S. University and E. University, in the hope of catching t-shirts tossed from the roof. Orientation for the incoming freshmen began on Sept. 1 and will last till Labor Day. Classes begin on Sept. 8.

Morning rain preluded a rather deplorable day for journalism. Today was the last ever edition of the Ann Arbor News, the city’s only daily that had lived for 174 years. To be honest, I was never a dedicated reader of the News, but having lived in Ann Arbor for 3 years as a college student (and now as a photographer), I could see its importance. Without it, this college town would be absolved into ignorance, not knowing what was transpiring around the nation, or even the surrounding counties.

University of Michigan students read more of the school-run Michigan Daily, which focuses more on college-related happenings. Other papers like USA Today and Detroit Free Press won’t necessarily have any coverage in Ann Arbor unless an earthquake split the campus in two. With the News gone, Ann Arbor residents may suddenly find a black hole when it comes to awareness.

Not all is bleak though. AnnArbor.com will be going live tomorrow. A new start-up by the same company that owned (and closed) the News, AnnArbor.com will be manned by a leaner staff and will be published online except for two print editions on Thursday and Sunday. I’ve wondered for a while if I could make it as a photojournalist at this new venture. Something holds me back from actually applying, maybe because I hold it in such high regard and feel I won’t qualify. Of course, this is somewhat unjustified, considering I’ve been applying to photojournalist positions in other papers in other cities.

As I hope to one day shoot for AnnArbor.com, I also hope to see it succeed. Digital news start-ups are as tough as biting through steel, which is why so many aren’t as bold to go the same route. And because it’s Ann Arbor — my second home — there’s a flicker of pride in knowing that this is the city where new ideas blossom and flourish. Part of that success formula is due to the university, but it takes two hands to clap. Both the city and the university will bring AnnArbor.com fruits to savor. I just know it.

This year marks the 50th anniversary since the Ann Arbor Summer Art Fair began.  Thousands of residents and out-of-town visitors are strolling usually-busy streets such as Liberty, State and S. University,wading through this year’s new collections.

Paintings, fine art photography and sculptures are the most sighted pieces on sale. But even non-art related drink and souvenir tents are planted at almost every corner. Borders, Panera Bread, Red Hawk & Grill are just a few of many tents that were set up outside their actual physical stores. Some of the more unusual sights include Yoga tents and Saturn car shows.

So far, the fair has met rain and shine. Its opening Wednesday was slightly washed out in the afternoon, but Thursday saw scorching temperatures under a cloudless sky. It will run for two more days till July 18th.

Instead of running away from criminals, I run towards them, all guns blazing. Those guns are my cameras, of course. Till today, nothing tops the adrenaline rush I felt while covering one morning of Bernard Madoff‘s trial in April, 2009.

Back then I was still in Columbia University’s journalism school. My photojournalism professor is also a freelance shooter for the NY Times. He was assigned to shoot Madoff leaving his house for court, and encouraged me to go shoot.

Dozens of reporters, anchors and photographers crowded outside his garage, and possibly none of us got a clear image of him, as he shielded himself with black sheets in the back seat. Dragging myself out of bed at 4:30am and hanging out in the cold for 10 minutes of action may sound like sheer lunacy.

But a thrill was present. History was being written in front of us and I (and the other journalists) had the opportunity to document it. Naturally my favorite medium is the still image, which is why I became drawn into being a photojournalist while at Columbia.

Photojournalism (or documentary photography) is tough because the rewards are not easily reaped from a ground increasingly devoid of funding. Even though papers and publications are cutting back on spending, it’s still important to have an institution back you up in stressful, and even dangerous, times.

Having a commercial photography business probably equates to a more financially comfortable lifestyle, but photojournalism is the only form of shooting that, for me, can deliver nourishment for the soul. If you want your photography to be bigger than yourself, turn to photojournalism. And though there’s a distant, fuzzy dream that I can be a successful photojournalist, who truly knows where my lens will ultimately be focused on?

See my photojournalism portfolio: