Living and Dying

Where should I start? Well, today began as many Sundays do, with waking up to go to church. I gave myself some time to get ready, take a shower, eat breakfast and then catch a few pages of a book Christine gave me to read while I’m in Hong Kong. “The Invitation to Solitude and Silence,” I read something that struck me, she said something about the best thing to do was to not just read about a good idea but just do it, like Nike says. It was something about letting God be in control of even my spiritual life, putting away my agenda. So I put down my book and sat there. A song has been in my head in the mornings, “Nothing but the Blood of Jesus,” so I let it play and I saw a flood of blood flowing over everything, down all the streets and washing out all the gunk, washing over me and everyone. Then I prayed out loud something I’ve never thought to pray before, “Good bye old Brenda, Good bye old ways, its time to be born again, Jesus make me new, its time to be born again, Jesus make me new.” After that I just breathed a sigh and walked out the door to grab a mini bus to meet cousin Anna for church. It is true that God can do things we cannot, like change people.
I went to Just Church again and after church we went to a sort of funeral, for a girl whose name was Queeny. She was 23 yrs old when she passed away from brain cancer. I didn’t know this until after. We sang a song for her as they put her white marble urn into a slot and then plastered her plaque, including picture name date of birth and death, written with gold looking paint engravement. The cemetery is crowded and intricate, just like everything else in Hong Kong and full of faces looking out at you from their gravestones and flowers. Not many people cried because I think the real funeral was over, this was just the last thing to do for her. But, I saw some people look away and hide behind their glasses, mostly the father of Queeny, a short kind looking Chinese man, directed the man plastering her headstone in place. He made sure it was done right, intently measuring out whether everything was level and clean. I looked at a young man across from me, who may have been a friend, he didn’t cry, but grief was written all over his face, in his stance, and behind his eyes. My eyes started to fill with water and memories of visiting graves in Hong Kong came into my mind. My Grandparents are buried here, and my brother’s late father too, I have many memories of visiting these places. We clean their faces, put fresh flowers and maybe things they might like and we face them and bow not knowing how else to keep them a part of whom we are. In Buddhist tradition they light incense and bow, as a prayer to the ancestors I guess, but as Christians we don’t do this…although I remember doing that as a little girl with my dad’s arms around me showing me what to do. Another one of Queeny’s friends gave out Li-se or lucky money packets. I think I want people to give all my money away in li-se packets at my funeral, that is, if I’m not leaving descendants behind in a rough spot without it.
We had some lunch western style although I have to admit, even what they call “western style” food tastes like Chinese food to me. Anyways, at 4 o’clock I went to some sort of super cut place to get my haircut. Anything worth doing, takes time and sometimes grueling effort. That’s what this haircut was like, the entire time I was feeling this nervousness it felt like a workout…I donno why. There were all these stages and funny looking stages too, worried stages, and there were so many parts of the process. It only took an hour, but it felt like three. All I have to say is, less hair equals your head feels three pounds lighter. It felt really really good to cut about four years of hair off. Sometimes when you change on the inside, it makes everything sort of shift into place when you change how you look on the outside. I asked Anna today if she remembered when my mom came to HK. She said, yes it was a long time ago, at that time I was a baby. How big was I? She said I was a small baby, so small she could hold me in one hand…I’m glad she didn’t drop me. I still feel that small at times.
My Dad came today at around 6:00pm; it was really good to see him. He looked tired but happy to see everyone. My entire family came to dinner to see him, their little brother who lives in America. I felt I could understand a little more of him now that there were people who outranked him at the table; people put food on his plate, and called him little brother. At 53 he is still little to them. It is the same with all of us, and I see that they treat me this way as well, maybe because they once held me in their arms and said, “Look its little Brenda.” It was good to see everyone; we fill up two huge round tables;: Dai goo ma and family, Yi goo ma and family, Sam goo ma and family, Uncle Tony and family, then my dad and I. We certainly are a strange bunch; we ate, talked loudly, laughed, ate some more, took a million pictures, ate dessert and then went on our separate ways home.

Last Day With Long Hair

Its hard to put my finger on things sometimes, every once in a great while there is a moment of clarity, of knowing who I am and why I’m here. Or maybe the moment is not knowing those things but being content not to quite know. I look back at the things I’ve done and I wonder if that was really me, or someone else. I’m letting down my hair, because this will be the last time in a while I will feel it crazily waving every which direction over my shoulders and covering my neck. Lately, although I like my hair, it has become very burdensome, a heavy awkward thing. My wavy hair is the style for HK this summer, but it feels sort of like a let down.
Six years ago, the last time I was in HK, I was still a kid barely out of High school full of insecurities and full of the drive to prove myself, yet terrified. It was a hard experience for me to be here, with my boyish haircut and figure everyone thought I was a guy. At first it didn’t bother me, I was more or less used to this, having had short hair on and off since I was eleven. But, eventually among the loneliness of being a foreigner and the angst of wanting to be at least recognized as a girl if not recognized as Chinese, I broke a little inside. I remember getting my hair cut in Hong Kong in 2001 and almost crying when the barber thought I was my dad’s son. I remember that year, my first year in College, feeling like I was two people, such a fractured little girl realizing how angry I’d been, realizing how proud and childish I was. It was sort of a monument, or milestone in my life to visit Hong Kong that year; I remember reflecting on the last time I’d been there and how much I’d changed since that time.
Ten years prior, when I was eight years old, going to Hong Kong changed my life. That time it was because we were going to christen my Dad’s marriage to my step-mom by having a Chinese marriage banquet. I can’t recall much of that time because it blurs together with all my other HK early childhood experiences. We essentially picked up some additions to our family. Being eight I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation and I didn’t realize till after Annie, Jackson and Vivian came with us that they were staying indefinitely. I remember Annie’s family crying at the airport, and Vivian and Jackson crying. I felt bad, I didn’t know how to feel, I felt almost guilty that I wasn’t the one to be moving away. An entire new life appeared before my eyes, a new family, and a new existence. Another ten years passed along, I got taller, adolescence happened and then I was back in Hong Kong. I was walking around as a young woman instead of a little girl, but still very childish. I didn’t know what to do with myself; I felt self conscious, and very masculine, very tall, very skinny and very white. I hadn’t yet come into an understanding of what it meant to be me, to be my Euro-Asian self, and so Hong Kong helped me to know my Dad’s history a little better, but it also made me wonder what else I didn’t know about who I was. When I got back from Hong Kong and started my second term at OSU, I decided to grow out my hair. It was time for a change, I wanted to explore my Chinese-ness and my hair came to be a symbol of that, a symbol of that experience in Hong Kong and the uncertainty it brought out in me. It was also a conscious choice to want to appear more feminine, which was a foreign concept to me until that time…yes I was a bit of a late bloomer at 18yrs old. I never put much stock in trying to look good. But, over time I softened a little, was a little less rough and tumble.
So coming to HK again with long hair in the summer, was a bit foolish. But it meant something to me. I wanted to be accepted, to be seen as who I am, but it was sort of silly. Because, well, how can a person be a hair cut? It’s just part of who we are not the “who we are” in itself. My hair was indeed the longest its been in six years when I arrived here, but I decided to get a trim, more just because it is hot here and I wanted it to be a bit less heavy. After two weeks though, I’ve gotten more and more sick of this mop on my head, it’s a bit of a hassle. More than that, I feel the need to make a choice to do something very Brenda Chung in Hong Kong. I used to think that people wanted me to be a certain way, to make choices that pleased them. I used to think that especially about Chinese people because they feel free to tell you if they think you look better in contacts, or tell you if you slouch etc. Actually it is that they just feel free to tell you those things, but I don’t think I could forgive myself if I change who I am based on these kinds of observations. I am probably the only one who expects myself to live up to everyone else’s expectations. So that is the long version of why I am cutting my hair short in Hong Kong again. Just to say something about who I am becoming, “Oh, here you are,” I want my hair to say, not to hide me, but to bring me out in the open. Tomorrow is the big day, wish me luck!!

The week at a glance

I'm sorry to say that I have been neglecting my blog this last week. Not that it was a particularly busy week although I have some lovely things to report. First, is that last saturday I went to a book fair with my Aunt where she made a fatal error by buying me a copy of the new Harry Potter book. In reflecting on where my last week went I have to confess that about three days of last week were spend simply reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Yes, I finished it in record time and I was not dissapointed. The middle of the book bogs down slightly but then picks up in time to keep you reading. I'll leave it at that so as to not spoil the book for those of you who care.
The second i that I think I'm starting to get into the swing of working. About midway through the week I was not particularly liking working, and I was to say the least...grumpy. Which also might explain my lack of blogging. Anyways, on Thursday I recieved a bit of criticism from a parent about my teaching. Whether or not it was completely founded in reality, there was some truth to the fact that, that day I was not excited about teaching and the quality probably showed. So, at first I felt discouraged, and then I felt pissed off, and then finally I decided to pray. It was exactly this that sort of kick started my enthusaism about teaching the little tikes. On the way to work, I was riding the shuttle bus that takes me down the hill to Yun Ping road where I walk two blocks to the MTR station. The driver seemed to drive especially catywampus and as usual I was holding on to the rail absentmindedly my mind on work. I realized that I needed some confidence, the ability to have something in mind to teach and impart it whether those kids were willing or not. I couldn't muster this confidence myself so I asked God for a little help.
So, when I got off the MTR platform at Sai Wan Ho and walked three blocks to the Wealthy Plaza, up the elevator to the 11th floor and into our little office I hoped that little prayer would pay off, and it did. The kids weren't all that different especially the pre-teens, who were sullen and reluctant as usual, but there was something more in me than before. I had something to give and I was going to impart it whether they liked it or not. That was refreshing for me, although my students may not have enjoyed me as much. HEHE.
The last and final report is that I can die happy now because I've seen, not one, but two live Premier League Footbal games (by footbal I mean soccer). Last night the Chung clan made their way to the Footbal pitch located just below our flat and sat in the sauna of Hong Kong along with 40,000 or so other HK residents and watched Liverpool Fooball Club and the HK club Portsmouth duke it out for the Barclay's Asia Primer Trophy. It wasn't quite heaven because I was sweaty sticky and uncomfortable, not to mention the smell of large pitchers of beer etc., but I'll never forget the sound of so many people saying things like, "Ho ball" (good ball), and "mo ball" (no ball), and "WAh" all together, or if someone did something bad "Yeeee", which is a term of disaroval of which I can't think of an equivalent english expression. Leaving the stadium was the most amazing part of it, there was literally a sea of people exiting into the streets which were closed for traffic from the stadium for about five blocks. People just walking in the street and fanning out to various destinations. There was like an endless expanse of black haired people all around. Sort of ridiculous, but fun.

Just Church

Today I attended my cousin's, Rita, Anna and William, Church. It is called Just Church. They meet in a little whole in the wall in Causway Bay. I had a marvelious time. Sitting there during worship singing along as best I could, a wave of emotion swept over me. All the sudden my lip started quivering and tears started to stream down my face. The worship was the kind that emitted Holy Spirit rays or something. It felt homey and simple, not about performance; full of genuine love. After the last weeks service being so big and scary, and feeling like the people in that ohter church sort of wanted me to join this and do that right away, it was refreshing to just be there and experience the presence of God without obligations arising already.
At Just Church there was the cutest baby and a little girl who was like me...EurAsian, as one woman asked me today. Although the girl was from Scotland, she looked like my little twin with dark brown hair and a little oval face. There is something very precious and endearing about a group of small people who are ernestly seeking God.
I think part of the reason I cried was, well because I'd felt a bit funky the day before, and because I think I really have been missing Chinese people a lot these last two years I've been in Yakama. Not just Chinese people, but my family and the part of me that comes more alive when I'm around them. It feels deep and unfathomable at times, like God, or the ocean, and at other times so simple, like holding the hand of a baby.
We are so strange, unsure and broken, yet somehow still manage to successfully communicate love if only in our little ways.
Today my cousin Anna showed me her flat and then we sat on her couch listening to classical music, a hymn and a whitney Houston song. We just sat and were comfortable and safe. The preacher at Just Church, was this cute old man who often laughed at his own jokes. Anna wrote me notes. But, he also made me feel very safe, the way my Dad makes me feel safe. Like when he's around I know I'll be taken care of. There was wisdom and laughter in his care worn face. Little things can sometimes open up into large places in our souls. When we were worshiping today, I think I heard God clearly say, "I love you this much, don't know I love you this much?" In a stil small voice that seemed to echo in my mind. After that, I started to breath little easier and, at least for a little while, I tried to take a hold of that truth with stunned admiration.

Getting Lost

I finally got lost for reals, two times today. First when I got off on a different exit from Causeway bay. To explain, in each MTR station (subway), there are at least 4 different places they spit you out at. They are indicated by letters and in Causeway bay there are letters up to F. What I realized today is that if you get off at E, it is really difficult to make your way back to F if you try to walk on your own. I realized later, this was because E and F exits are separated by a very busy street. I wanted to go see Victoria park, and I will, but unfortunately I got a little lost and had to trace my steps back to the MTR station and down into the maze of people and then spit myself out at the correct exit.
The second time was a bit more frustrating, I wanted to go…wait no, I was shamed into going to this church group thingy at the church I visited on Sunday. It is an English speaking church full of mostly 1.5 generation Canadian or US immigrants who’ve returned to HK and immigrants from different countries. There are quite a few South East Asians, British, and Phillipina immigrants in Hong Kong. However, the Phillipina immigrants are almost all contracted maids for Chinese households.
Perhaps one of the legacies of the British colonization of Hong Kong was the appropriation of this practice. Also, the only way for HK people to actually work and have kids is to have maid to take care of them and do household chores. My Auntie Anita for this reason doesn’t know how to cook. Cost of living requires usually two household incomes, if not more, and work hours vary but usually consist of six-day workweeks and a lot of overtime. My Anna EE works from 9am to 7 or 8 pm M-Sa. She runs her own business sooo, no one is making her do this. I think she’s an extreme case but it’s not that uncommon. Mostly people who work in the financial district work on Sat. because on Sat. it is still Friday in the US. My cousin Anna worked from probably 10 am – 9pm today…with a two-hour lunch I presume. I came home at ten thirty today and the MTR was totally packed, HK people like to stay out late and work late. Working is water here, although I don’t think its very pure healthy water. Some is necessity; some is that the atmosphere is to over work then over play non-stop. Most people here exercise too, I’ve not seen a fat person yet. My Uncle for instance who is maybe in his late fifties and his wife play badminton at least twice a week. And I don’t mean badminton like you and your cousins on the lawn with jumbo rackets. I mean competitive Chinese style. If you want to know the difference just, play ping-pong with an American, then play ping-pong with a Chinese person. You’ll get the picture.
I was talking about something…oh getting lost. I also got lost trying to get to this church small group thingy. I have to give it to these churchy people they have a great strategy. They are so nice and welcoming that you feel so guilty not attending their stuff, even if you’re not so sure about it. Only the Chinese way will make you feel like this, if work is our water, shame is our bread. Really the Chinese ladies at this church have been very persistent, I got an email that was a mass email welcoming me to the church etc. I thought dang it, now I have to come or forever feel like I have to avoid these people for the rest of my time in Hong Kong and feel very bad for not going. But really later I felt I really did want to see what their group was like. So I got lost getting there and felt retarded looking at a map on the street. After some walking and my hair frizzing out in the night air, I found it.

I was skeptical of the medium they used, a video based on a book called “the life you always wanted” sounded like a cross between a self-help book and “the purpose driven life”. But, the author had a good point at the end about confession. He basically said, confession to friends about deep secrets and sins is about knowing the measure to which you are loved. We all probably hear people say they love us, but somewhere inside we are thinking, oh if they only knew this about me they wouldn’t say that. He had confessed all his dark secrets to a friend, afterward he felt very vulnerable and his friend said to him, “ Right now, I have never loved you more than I do know.” Wah, so powerful.
The discussion was ok, I had a disagreement on a point with one very animated lady, and it seemed to me she sort of drew the group to herself and was quite opinionated. She said she didn’t want a life without sin because it would be boring, and she didn’t think you could appreciate goodness without knowing the badness. Of course I don’t agree with that at all. In the Garden of Eden God walked among them and they weren’t afraid. This represents to me the deepest longing in life, to be able to actually be with God and not be afraid, and not just in the spiritual sense. But, to actually be in his physical presence, in all the Grandness and beauty, and the awesome power, the Holiness and not be afraid of Him or ashamed before Him. If I could ever get there, to that closeness that wipes away the ickiness, I think that would be paradise. I believe you can feel pain without ickiness, the ickiness is the sin, pain I don’t think is an always a direct result of sin. There are two kinds in this world, pain for following Jesus and pain because our own stupidity. The distinction is important. I had to hold my tongue a little and not get on the soapbox to try and prove I was right and she wasn’t. If that’s not prime example of sin, and why we need Jesus I don’t know what is.
People shared honestly though, and sometimes talked about really random not related things. That’s normal. We got in groups of three and prayed at the end. That was the best part. I got to talk to this lady Tina, and another lady whose name started with a V. Anyways, it was good to share honestly about how I struggle to trust God with someone other than this computer. Trust specifically around money and generosity. Tina shared that she too had been tight on money for the last couple years. She put her sister through college and now she can finally save some money. But, church takes up her time and she wants to spend more time with family. I wanted to suggest not doing as much in church. Her mom and sister are not Christians but not apposed to it. She said she wanted to show them she loved them, she didn’t want to loose touch with them. “In Chinese culture we rarely say ‘I love you’ so I try to show them I love them in other ways.” At that time she started to tear up. She really loves her family. I realized that what she said was true. Intimacy with Chinese people does have to do with showing affection very much, or saying things like ‘I love you’. It has to do with doing things together, like eating, and just being around even if we’re not doing anything special. Loyalty might be the word. Work is water, shame is bread, loyalty is air. I enjoyed getting to know those two ladies.
Ok la, ngoh fun gau a.(ok I am going to bed, good night)
Jo tau

Today was so much better than yesterday. I went to work and prayed that somehow today I would be able to do better and feel less out of my element and frustrating. Waiting for the MTR to Chai Wan I already felt a little different. There are so many reflective things in Hong Kong and you can always look at yourself in the MTR window or in the elevator wall, etc. Lately have taken to avoiding my reflection, like you would a guy friend you don’t want to give the wrong idea. You just pretend not to notice but really you notice.

My class was, so so, but what made today much better than yesterday was my conversation with Anna EE (my aunt on my step-mom’s side who is employing me for the summer). First she told me to slow down and speak up. So I did. Then after class we went to lunch at this HK style restaurant, meaning a little café with crowded tables full of clamor and smells of food. All the menus were in Chinese. They had HK Chinese food and HK style western food. She asked me about the kids and gave me advice, and then she was fascinated with my dad’s “Devotion to Christianity”. My Dad will be in Macau, which is an island close to Hong Kong on a mission trip with church. ON his way back he’ll be stopping by HK for like a day. It was cool to talk about that, and about why how I started getting interested in God. Her son Liam, who is ten and in one of my classes seems to adore me at the moment. He wants to see Harry Potter with me, and asks his mom every day, today he called me in the office just to talk. Anna EE and I went for a walk and she showed me a good place to shop for food and to eat Wonton Mein(noodle soup with dumplings)…which I love. She bought me a shirt; she is very sweet. The rest of the day went great. I worked on lesson plans which I feel apt at now, and answered phones although its very impractical for me to answer phones considering I have no I idea what people are saying to me 80% of the time. I loved it, talked to some parents, one of whom wanted to know if I’d stay in HK for longer to keep teaching. One parent of a particularly troublesome son, Michael, who is a pill in every class, called me Lao Shi (teacher in Mandarin). It felt weird, but honoring to have a woman older than me call me teacher.
I came home feeling like a working girl, and then ate dinner with Auntie Anita, their part time maid, who speaks little English and cooks phenomenally, and Eric. After dinner I finally broke the speaking barrier…that is, the barrier in my mind. I told Antie Anita in Cantonese that I was very full. Then I complimented the maid, whose name I can’t remember cause its hard for me to pronounce, that her food was very good and satisfying. She asked me in Cantonese something about my mom (Ma-mi) and I answered in Cantonese. Then it hit me…I could show her some pictures of my family and I could explain most of it in my broken Cantonese. It was a hit; she understood me and even helped me learn some vocabulary. Jie fu, is sister’s husband. I even managed to say in Cantonese that I didn’t have any pictures of my Ma-mi, although I’m sure my grammar was atrocious. After I said that, she squeezed my arm very maternally, or grandmotherly and laughed nodding her head. That felt very good, we had connected and I suddenly felt very safe. I showed Auntie Anita too, and she enjoyed it very much, she knew more English and we laughed at a video of my dad and step mom playing Nintendo Wii. She said thank you afterward and her words felt very soft and amused. Yes….I finally crossed, or at least waded across, the threshold. Thank you Jesus.

First Day of Classes

For a first day, it was a good one, but actually at first I didn’t feel so great about it. As all first days go I made some rookie mistakes and felt dumb for it. Its harder too if you don’t really know all the rules. But, I guess that’s how you learn them, first you trip over them and fall on your face. That way you never do the same thing again. For the first time today after class I didn't want to engage with Hong Kong or Hong Kong yun (people). I all the sudden felt tired of everybody around me and the city felt like a warm suffocating blanket. Like a mother hovering and fussing over you, all you want to do is escape somehow. I wanted to see the ocean, walk in a park, or at the least not be so freaking sticky and sweaty. It's normal to feel a bit of culture shock and I guess that is what I feel, a bit homesick for normal things. At the same time, I don't really want to be in America or back in my apartment with my friends although I miss them. I am just finding it difficult to engage with all this newness right now. When faced with a challenge I love to rise to it, when faced with criticism I get angry and want to disengage my heart. This is also the first day I had over five hours of sleep so my body feels much better but my spirits are a bit low.
It hasn’t gone my way at all today. I went to Wan Chai, one stop past mine on the MTR (subway) to have a look around and find some solace. But it was hot and everything felt pretty threatening and ugly. I went to a “park” but it was just people playing soccer on asphalt. There was a woman laying on the group looking sickly with a bowl in front of her. I couldn’t get out of my funk enough to give her money. I felt petty and self conscious like everyone was watching me thinking, “that foreigner, taking pictures and walking around looking lost.” When I got home flustered I tried to eat some cookies and couldn't get them out of the packaging without throwing them everywhere which I only didn’t do because its not my house. Eric (my cousin) ordered pizza so I was excited for something familiar…like cheese. Unfortunately Pizza Hut in Hong Kong doesn’t serve pizza the same is in the US. My search for familiarity was thwarted. I watched the world news and got depressed; I don’t think I need to elaborate on that. Eric showed me a picture and asked if I knew what happened, I said an earthquake. He said no, I five year old girl had fallen out of an 8 story window. The picture is of the medics attending the girl on the ground, the mother is kneeling, her face contorted in a wailing scream to the sky with a man holding her arm. Apparently the girl was looking for her mother who'd gone down stairs for five minutes and the girl fell. My heart ached and then I started to think maybe I needed to pray.
So I did. I realized I need help, and lots of it to carry me through this experience with an untainted and not hard heart. I am a bit hopeless about me ever speaking Cantonese, and maybe that's my problem, hope. And maybe that's why it’s hard to try. I'm so scared and self conscious...and there is this little girl named Jo Jo who does exactly what I do when I ask her questions in English as I do when people ask me in Cantonese. I want to tell her not to be afraid, its ok to be in the process of learning, but you just have to try your best. I should practice that myself.
In this state I searched for a place to connect and be still and not feel frumpy or pissed off. Searching my uncle's flat I found the terrace going out like a half moon from the living room. At first I hesitated because I didn't want to be found and thought strange for staring out into the city lights 25 floors up. But, I opened the latch with a click, still self-conscious and moved out into the breezy night. This was the first time I felt wind since I’ve arrived in Hong Kong, and the coldest I've felt the air outside. The wind howled, moving things around, moving things around in me. I realize in that moment, a short moment that I was searching into the night for something comforting and familiar. Something I didn’t have to try and understand or get others to understand. I stood looking out and down feeling the warm and cool wind and I heard it. Among the fervent piping of the cities clanks and hums, out of the night there was the chirping of crickets carried around on the warmish wind to my ears. Even here they find me, in this congested city the crickets still chirp. All the sudden I remembered the house I lived at in the country this last year, and that the crickets were so loud I couldn't sleep. I wanted to exterminate them. But, here these little crickets sent by God were my comfort, a message from on high that things were going to be ok if I'd just relax and trust Him. So I prayed and cried a little, asking for lots of help and receiving it all at once. I sleep well for the first time since I've arrived here, I slept through the night without waking and woke up at six o clock without an alarm even though I don't have to go to work till ten thirty. For me it was sleeping in because I've woken up at four every morning till now, and sometimes I went back to sleep. Thank you God, for two more hours of sleep. I still feel unsettled and nervous about teaching, and making lesson plans, but thankful. I sat down and read Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamontt today, and I finished it. I've been reading this book about traveling mercies and about faith all throughout my traveling here. Reading in Airports, buses, and subways. The last chapter is about her son Sam, at the end of which she writes to her son, “Thank you. Thank you”. I remembered the preface had a poem, a repetitive wave like poem about saying thank you and I read it again. The poem reminded me of Hong Kong, full of meaning and ordinariness, of heat and bustle, it reminded me of looking out over Hong Kong last night searching and finding and feeling thankful. It is by WS Merwin and it goes a little something like this:

Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food looking at the sky
and saying thank you
we are standing by the water looking out in different directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
in a culture up to its chin in shame
living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the back so cars and elevators
remembering wars and the police at the back door
and beatings on the stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks that use us we are saying thank you
with the crooks in office with the rich and fashionable
unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
or lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is

In so many ways this poem captures my experience here so far, not that I’ve been mugged, but the mix of brokenness and beauty. I realized too that in Cantonese the most common word I use and the only one I feel comfortable really saying is, "mm goi" which means thank you, and sometimes excuse me. I am always saying thank you to everyone all the time. Maybe that is encouraging because it is a start of saying something more and the hope of building on the one good thing you can say.

Thats All

I realized today that Uncle Tony is definitely my father's brother, he's always humming, but he hums Chinese Opera instead of Worship songs. And he always just drives me around with him and wants to make sure I have every physical need met. We went to the market place today and then he drove me around to see Clear Water Bay. At the market he kept asking me if I wanted this or that, he would not leave until I picked at least one thing out. I want to go back and see Clear Water Bay sometime when I can stop and have a look around; there is a little beach there. The bay is the bottom of a bowl made by the surrounding low rising mountains and then the ocean. There was this old rickety looking boat in the bay, and a little beach.
Honestly I don't have much insights today, I went to work with Anna EE, she helped me prep for my classes tomorrow, which will be like tutoring little kids two or three at a time. I’m nervous and excited, I don't know how to prepare myself so I figure I'll just go with it when I get there. I walked around and shopped a bit in the crevices of Causeway Bay. You could miss it totally but there is a free air market just in between these building and it's so small and crowded and you can't try anything on, but stuff is like so cheap, a shirt for two dollars US, and a skirt for 5 dollars US. I didn't buy much, just window shopped, got used to the area a little, tomorrow I'll remember to bring my camera cause it's messy and beautiful. And I saw some fruit stands that made me so happy, but I was embarrassed to buy the fruit, even though I've been looking forward to eating tropical fruits and stuff so much. I need to get over this insecurity stuff. Honestly, as I've been here I've realized how shallow I really am. I always want to do good, and then I get hesitant and unsure of myself and then I go to great lengths to try and hide. At some point I just have to slap myself a little and say "Chung, Yin-lai you are being ridiculous, who cares if you buy fruit or not.”
In this setting, where you’re at the mercy of a culture of hospitality, I find it is best to just say yes to whatever anyone offers anything to you. Unless you are eating and really full already, then you say yes and take as many small bites as you can without going too fast, or too slow so they don't try to offer you more. I feel like “Yes” girl, oh well.
Auntie Anita has warmed up quite a bit, we ate breakfast together and she communicated with me, I wanted to say some Cantonese to her but was still hesitant and shy. One of these days I'll just get over it, but it is really harder than it should be...maybe I should pray about it.
That’s all.
Amen.

Sik Gong Guandong Wa/Speak Cantonese

My Waaahhh, today was such a full day and I have had little sleep, and jet lag still. Anna took me to an English speaking church and they were all very very nice...almost too nice but it was quite fun anyways. I am already starting to speak English with Chinese grammar, and leaving out stuff like Hong Kong people speak adding in bits of Chinese. Its funny how when people leave any where there are waves of bu bye, drawn out on the bye and lots of actual waving. The ladies at church, we met one from Shanghai and this other lady who is a friend of Rita, they more like forced prayer on us but it was very sweet and it was good to be prayed for even if it was a little weird at first. I realized later that it was a big blessing to be prayed for and invited in to their group so rigorously. I need to learn more Cantonese. Anyways, then we went to sik yum cha with Sam goo ma, sam goo Jurng, Rita and Justin, William and of course, Anna. Other wise known as the Mok clan, although Rita is married now. I enjoy their company a lot, Sam goo ma dressed up nice in her American bought dress, and Rita is bubbly and warm as ever, also she is funnier when paired with Anna. They are different styles but both very strong personalities, later Anna commented that she follows after her Dad and Rita follows after her mom. Anna and I are a lot alike; maybe that is why we get along. Strong headed, independent, maybe having a sensibility more of a man in some ways. We walked all around Time Square and then Causeway Bay, it was very hot and humid but still many times she'd grab my hand. Perhaps because she was afraid she'd loose me, but anyways she would steer me around like a mother would an overgrown child. And it was nice to follow after her, as her long shadow so to speak. I pampered myself a little buying some white shoes, up until this point I've never bought white shoes before...only black. This is certainly a change. I think she knows like every shop owner at every store we visited, and then she dragged me around until we got to the hair dresser. In Hong Kong everything is just stuck in a corner, in an odd looking place from the outside, but it is nice on the inside. Everything begins with a dirty hallway with some doors that look like people live there and then ending with the destination. Brian was the hair dresser and everyone there spoke some English. Staring at myself in the mirror though I felt very self conscious and pretty insecure about how I look. But, then I prayed and counted to five, letting the fear in and then pushing it out again with the Holy Spirit. I got my hair washed by this wonderful man, who had amazing hands...oh man I wanted to marry him right their just so he could wash my hair every week. He was deft at washing my hair and massaging out all the little bits of stress from my head. I almost feel asleep to the rocky motion and the flowing water. The water was reminding me of the springs of living water that I want to wash over me and get in all those dirty crevices. I felt pampered and healthy, like...this is what its like to be ok buying yourself a nice haircut, with a fancy barber with torn up jeans.
Oooh yeah and then Anna and I had a heart to heart about men, dating and her possibly moving to the states in a couple years if her mom can get her a visa. It takes three to five years she said. Her mom is also worried about her not being married, but I told her I thought it was better to be alone and wait for the right one, than settle for less and not really be in a relationship we like. I also think it is better to wait for the right one than put your heart on the chopping block for some chump who will be a jerk to you when the going gets tough. Anna became a Christian 16 years ago, she said in college, then Rita and William followed along. They have been praying for their parents for some time now and I think it is not long before Sam goo ma is a Christian. At first her parents were very apposed to her being a Christian because of the Buddhist mentality, and because they wanted her to be with family on Sunday to sik yumm cha(eat dim summ)...turns out yum cha is still on, but they pray before they eat. Eating together is much better than even the poem by li young lee. It was clear though between the two of us that the issue with dating when you want to be serious about it is that, it's hard to risk it when you've been burned before. The pain of hard break ups is like nothing I've ever experienced; it is like having an eagle fly by and pick you up by your heart and dropping you to the ground. You have to still walk and go through life because of survival; you can't wait around for him to sweep down and attack again. And they are flesh wounds that sometimes heal on the outside but get bacteria inside that cause infections and could kill you if you don't get the right medicine. The right medicine being, God coming into your life and heart and healing, and some combination of listening and obeying when you are faced with your own brokenness.
I also went to church with Auntie Anita who is some what of a dilemia to me at the moment. Its clear to me she's a little wary of me because she speaks about as much English as I do Cantonese. And she's a little embarrassed to try and speak to me and vise versa. So I went to Cantonese catholic church to maybe show some good will and get to know her on her turf...unfortunately we didn't get to sit together. I was so tired I almost fell asleep listening to the Cantonese liturgy which was beautiful as the acoustics were astounding. I closed my eyes and let the words fade into the ocean of my mind and it was like a lullaby. I could only understand a few words, God, Jehovah, Jesus, Beginning, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, heaven, Amen. That was the sermon I heard and the worship I could muster. I liked it a lot. I think I'll try to get over my shyness with Anita, it seems like that is the way to go, to show her I care. Eric told her to speak English to me and she said, speak Guangdong wa. So I guess that is my challenge... to walk forward, without hesitation, and to speak loudly crossing the barrier with fear and trembling, but with faith..

Graduation

"There is something else meaningless that occurs on earth: righteous men who get what the wicked deserve, and wicked men who get what the righteous deserver. This too, I say, is meaningless. So I commend the enjoyment of life, because nothing is better for a man under the sun than to eat and rink and be glad. The joy will accompany him in his work all the days of the life God has given him under the sun." Eccl. 8: 14-15

Looking out over Hong Kong from my Uncle's high rise flat in Happy Valley, the clouds swiftly floating by, and the sounds of transit buses and people yelling Cantonese, the sight of buildings growing out of the tropical mountainside of jagged green trees it feels good in this moment to be alive. Going to another country is like being born again, only this time you've got a couple more things learned before hand.
This is good because today I found myself on stage in front of about two hundred complete strangers. My Pau Pau(grandma), and grandpa have a kindergarten and today was graduation. And in the fashion of most Chinese ceremonies this was quite long and very complicated, and well.... totally run, organized, and executed with style by the women. I was told that I'll be handing out some presents on stage and I concurred because it is just rude to refuse the honor. So I walk into this big room full of people and children, decorated beautifully and to the teeth, greeted by the principle (a woman), who says "How are you?" in very good English. She directs me to a seat that is nicely labeled Miss Brenda. Every one else has their proper Chinese name, however this is for my sake because they know I don't understand much Cantonese and figured I could pick out my que if they said Miss Brenda. Let me tell you the level of organization at this thing was dizzying, these teachers could run a country quite efficiently and I’m sure they'd give all the credit to the President or who ever was " In charge". I don't know how they got preschoolers to dance in an organized fashion much less a very complicated choreographed Broadway style dance scene for no less than two hundred children. Goodness me. Needless to say I felt a little awkward and or in a strange dream in which I am in my second day in a foreign country suddenly on stage sitting stiffly and totally out of place. If this was Sesame Street’s which one doesn't belong with the others....the kids wouldn’t have a hard time picking out the odd ball. Strangely enough I wasn't mortified, but I kept telling myself that now is not the time to be timid walk forward and speak loudly. It’s harder to do the speak loudly part. But, I think that will be my mantra for this trip. A lesson in not stepping away because I'm scared and have no clue what to do.
My little cousin Liam is such a sweetheart, he wanted to make sure I was welcome and then was afraid I was lonesome because I couldn't join in conversation with everyone else. I let him take some pictures with my camera and he got really excited and jumped up and down. Then he took a picture of me and said I looked like a princess....whoa girls, those of you around ten yrs old...look out for him when you get older. The look on his face though was that of innocence and pure joy. There was a little girl dancing at the pre-school who was dancing happily waving to her parents and jumping up and down flailing around not caring much what her body did. It was excisite. Pau Pau said I look ho lang, ho gao and tai sao, very beautiful, very tall and too skinny. No matter what I look like, people in Hong Kong always say that about me. Lately I do feel beautiful though...it may have to do with people telling me that I am, and more than that...I feel loved by God and family. In both cases it feels completely unconditionally. I don't really deserve any of this good treatment. But, it feels nice, and all these things falling into place is God incarnate in my life. Even my family’s love, is from him even though not all of them know him. I think you can be Jesus to someone else, even if you don't know him. Where there is love, there he is also.

Night One

My first night in Hong Kong, and I'm so tired I can't see strait really, but I could barely harold the wonders of this city with my right mind and enough sleep under my belt. My body thinks its 9 am Friday morning but it is 11:45 Friday night. It is muggy here but I like it, it makes me feel very full and surrounded. This may feel like claustrophobia to some but to me....at this point it is nice. I saw the sunset over blue clouds that looked exactly like cotton candy, and mountains.
Eric and Anna, my lovely cousins, are now my care takers and have been more than apt to the job. They don't fuss so obviously as uncle Tony and Anita, but we were crossing the street and Anna grabbed my arm protectively and pulled me closer to her saying, "Now we have to take care of little Brenda." This was funny coming from my 5 foot 2 cousin of about one hundred pounds. It’s nice to be cared for so profusely and I just wanted to write that down before I wandered into bed. I prayed for faith on the plane and I didn't know why. I guess I just didn't want to loose it.

Flying over the Pacific in an Airbus

Its times like these when I appreciate the little things, like old jazz music and being able to more or less type with your eyes closed. Aside from this splitting headache I am doing will. I feel much better than I had first anticipated. I have this crazy TV screen under my seat that I can pull out and watch whatever I want. So I was watching Grey's Anatomy and its pretty much drama...there's a love triangle, that's original. But something caught my attention, this character who is Asian American, and she's just lost a baby a fallopian tube and a boyfriend all at once, but she still insists on not resting and she wants to work. She becomes obsessed with solving this patient mystery; the patient is being taken care of by her x- boyfriend. IN the end it turns out she was right all along and the guy never listened to her, the last scene I saw was her crying suddenly after hearing the news saying, " I was right, I was right," over and over again .So I was trying to sleep unsuccessfully partly because I couldn't shake the image of this very brave, yet hurting woman break down. And I couldn't figure out, besides the obvious hormonal weirdness that comes from loosing part of your womanhood, and motherhood at once. I think it was that she had lost so much at once and she didn't gain much in return. I started to cry thinking about it, about how it feels to loose all at once, but I think it is also that we gain a lot at once too. When I arrive in Hong Kong, it will be around three o'clock in the morning Pacific Standard Time on July the 13th, but in fact it will be 7 pm Hong Kong time. Its like being in a time warp, I will have lost an entire day. I was thinking about what I could say in Cantonese to my family. In my limited vocabulary I could manage to say, " Ngo ho gui, buk gwo ngo ho hoi sum la," it will probably sound like children talk to them, but it means I am very tired, but very happy. I will have lost some sleep, and an entire day, which is not exactly like loosing part of your body, but its something. Yet, I will have gained an entire city, a moving city crowded and dirty and smells of garbage and dust around. I will have gained more importantly my family. The ones I love but never see. This felt more meaningful actually when it was in my mind and when I was crying and not really knowing why. It is 7 pm my time, the exact time tomorrow I will arrive in Hong Kong. I think I'll attempt to sleep again and hopefully not cascade into weepy a weepy emotional state due to the fact that I’m 35 thousand feet above ground over a vast expanse of ocean at five hundred miles an hour.

Waiting @ Vancouver Int'l Airport

I like how this place is full of so many kinds of people. A French woman helped me at the Duty Free store, a couple sat in front of me at Burger King taking intimately in Spanish, two men behind me are speaking Mandarin melodiously and rapidly, a Cantonese woman instructs her two daughters to eat their candy slowly in distracted bursts, and an old adorable Indian man in a maroon cap is eating his fries and burger silently, methodically yet without heaviness. I like these languages and people existing, and strangely not intersecting. There is something strange, interesting and slightly unsettling about it.

It is reminding me of something an elder, Elizabeth Asahi Sato, said to me recently. While speaking of her formerly Buddhist mother's first time saying the Lord's Prayer she said that there was something so beautiful, as if this prayer was meant to be repeated in broken English. Full of simplicity, innocent like a child, but wise and deep like the vast ocean. Her mother then proceeded to burn her family eairlooms which were prayer books and shrines of Buddha even those encrusted in gold. When Elizabeth tried to stop her, she said, "Your God told me to burn them, so I obey." This feels simple and wise, like these two Chinese girls before me, obeying without question the warnings of their mother. I can see them looking at me with wonder and unabashed curiosity and saying nothing because they've been taught propriety. The little one has a blue tongue from her lollipop. "You m you sic go dee French fries, sic ah!" The younger sister asks her mom with a skip, bobbing on the toes of her orange alligators. Do you want to eat some French fries, she says in Chinglish. We quickly learn to meld worlds in our mouth and create new ones. I ate my whopper with cheese, devouring each bite like a starved carnivore, smiling with my teeth barred. It was exquisite, and I think I've decided Canadians make better cheeseburgers than Americans; it was steaming hot in my hand and melted into my willing stomach, although I was at first glance skeptical of this little round bun.

Waitng @ Seatac

Its amazing how going through customs is not relaxing at all. Somehow I came out on the other end feeling a little like a being herded like cattle, shuffled through a small space. I felt nervous, like I had done something terrible and I just had to hide it from all the white uniforms in the room. I was embarrassed of my bottle of saline solution nicely displayed in a plastic baggy in my white bin. As if I actually had some sort of liquid explosive hidden there, or that I was about to stick my nasal spray up someone's nose and give a big squeeze to distract them while my accomplice slips some dynamite into a plane. Thankfully I'm not interested into public humiliation or senseless acts of violence.

After recovering from my dizzying experience with security, I caught my breath still feeling that I was in the way of hefty passengers hustling by me with their carry on. I met up with Christine, my sister, and her husband for breakfast and enjoyed French toast compliments of Nintendo. It was our last meal together while they live in Seattle, when I get back they'll be in San Francisco, their destination for today to look for housing. We tend to keep things pretty normal and our sadness or distress hidden away in commonality. As if our deep fears were really hidden behind talking about computer software, parks and the ambiances of the SeaTac Airport. But, really I wanted to say I'll miss you guys so much I can't feel it, but when I do it will be like falling down the stairs into an empty house full of memories. And in these few months we will be stepping forward into our lives, shouldering the weight of change and moving boxes.

Soon I will have lost all three siblings to California. A bit of salt in the wound. I have often imagined myself looking up at the sky opening my hands to the sky and shaking them yelling, “Why God? And California of all places? Must all the good people be exiled to Babylon?" This might be what my best friend would be evidence that I tend to exaggerate. Or maybe California is just a brighter place than here and attracts bright people. And it will be fun to tell Christine to be sure to wear flowers in her hair, if she's going to San Francisco. Up until this point I never imagined I would live so far from my sister, it had never occurred to me that she'd go somewhere where I wasn't able to tag along. But, I know God is taking them there, and that he is helping me remain behind. I know that this season of change will cost us all and it will be worth it.

For now, as I sit in front of this enormous window looking out on the birds flying by, the planes jetting into airspace, and the propellers spinning around and around, life is much more than bearable, it is quite pleasant from time to time. As long as little boys are innocent enough to approach strange women typing on their laptops, able to spin in circles and smile with three fingers in their mouths drooling profusely. Yes, this future and present grief cannot swallow us when there is still the simple imprint of God facing us so blatantly. My flight will take off in two hours and until then I guess I'll give in to this moment of being taken in to my surroundings in wordless noise, in the commonality of humans traveling.