Macau: Where have all the Taxis gone

This is a two installment entry because I took a little trip across the bay to Macau and then crossed the border from there into China. The Macau part is called "Where have all the Dicsees (Taxis) gone" because that was the main theme of our experience expecially on the first day. For some reason the small Island of Macau is home to 400,000 thousand people, a small number compared to HK's 7 mil. This formere Porteguese colony is like HK's euro-latin cousin. It seems that Macau is made up mostly of blue collar workers and has resently begun to import professionals and investors from overseas. Including American investors who have begun to build enourmous casinos that attract an influx of tourists from Hong Kong, China and all over the world. What this has meant for the local people, is that most young people try to work at the casinos because they pay the most money, leaving the local establisments at a loss. This perhaps is not that unlike the situations in Reservations where young people can usually only get jobs at the Casino or none. The investment in tourist industries has also meant that there is a sort of jetlag in the accomidation of transportation to meet the teeming swarms of visitors who have no idea where they are. This is why, a group of Hong Kong natives got lost in Macau, who are perhaps so used to a Taxi on every street corner and buses to everywhere. We spent most of the first day getting lost, but we found, after asking many strangers, a bus to a little shopping street. It was on one of the islands of Macau called Taipa, a portugese word that I think means "boy street" or something to do with a boy because the chinese character was boy on the sign. We ate at this littel portugese resturant...but I didn't eat anything but rolls. I had gastrocitis or something...honestly don't ask me what it means the doctor said that word and I asked, what does that mean. After five minutes of my cousin trying to tell me what it meant, I still was at a loss. Something to do with bad food and grease and my intestines. Anyways the cure is no eating anything but plain foods for two to three days. Unfortunately those three days were spent in Macau and Zhong San. I liked the euro-latin mix with chinese feel, it was fun to hear latin music and see chinese people. There are amazingly cute buidings, it really felt like Europe in some places, although I've never really been there.
After eating we went to the down town central square, which was gorgeous in the evening, with all the lights. All the streets were cobbled and many were black and white cobbles. The buildings were sweet. I took many pictures. There are these really old churches, that have huge flat colomed fronts with amazing doors. One had a yellow outside and green doors. Everthing looked like something out of a movie to me, with coulpes and old ladies sitting on the steps of beautiful buildings. We went up to see the ruins of an old church that had burnt down just leaving the front slab which is held up by steel bars. It is called "the ruins of St. Augustine's Church" I think. My little cousins and their friend Jordon, who is one of my students, bought some sparklers and we lit them by the ruins. I felt like a little kid, I haven't played with a sparkler since... I was 15 or something. It was fun to play. But, I was ever reminded that I'm usually thrown in with the kids even though I'm not. When I'm with family here everyone treats me like a BB...that is how they pronounce "Baby". After a while it gets sort of wearisome, although i'm grateful its nice to sometimes feel you can give something and are responsible enough to feed, clothe and wash yourself. Or maybe I just like being capable.
After that, yes we had a late night, we tried to find our way home and got lost again. but, this time it was kind of fun, it started to rain. And again, this was a down pour. the city was even prettier in the rain, with all the streets and signs blurred and glossy. With the rain making puddles and reflections coming down all over our maps and heads. Macau that evening was one of my favorite times on the trip, especially when it rained. We found sanctuary in a Casino and on the side of the casino. It took us over an hour to get to the house we stayed at, we were tired and foot sore, I was cranky. But, it was a good long day afterall.

ChrisDean

My big sis, just started a blog of her own, and her's is cooler looking than mine...Dang. Oh well, I might have to admit that Dean(Christine) has better taste in general than I do. I've been thinking of my big sis lately because she's just moved to San Mateo, California which has been a subject that I've thought much about here in HK. We each, deal with the distance in different ways, but we actually don't talk about it much with each other. Possibly because we know exactly what the other is really thinking, but not saying. This confirmed by our blogs, probably. Hehe. She, is shocked that I cannot follow here there, and I equally am stalled by the reality.
My Grandmother Leola, my mum's mum, once told me that she had always dreamed that her children would not just be siblings but that they'd actually be friends. Grandma reminds me a lot of Christine, some of her qualities skipped my mum like a river rock and hit Dean on the head. Not that my mum is not like either of them. I am not sure what it is, maybe just the mannerisms, and faith, maybe both of them are quiet firey women, who you can build things around because they will almost always be steady and tell you the truth. At the same time, you never want to dissapoint them, because they are matriarchs. My sister, being a pre-matriarch as she doesn't have kids yet. I realized a while back that my Dean is a rare lily. Gentle and kind as a kitten, sometimes overlooked, but a scary angry cat when she's cranky, or when protecting people she loves. Ha, I think Clint (her husband) likened her to a cat when I asked him about it for a game I did at her bridal shower.
Right now, it feels as if we both are being pushed to let each other go in some way. Being pushed out of the comfort of the companionship we've enjoyed for the last 24 years. No matter where we went, whether with mum, or dad, we were together. Even when she lived in Seattle and I in Yakama, we usually visited family together when we went. But, now it'll be me in the NW and her and the rest of my siblings in SoCal. Like my brother said, I guess we will see if we follow God's will together, although we are apart. He also said that he thinks we are given certian times to be with certian people. And it seems that that is true too. We don't know where the wind is going, or where it comes from, it moves on its own. So this is for my Dean, perhaps it is hard because God is distracting us while he grows something beautiful and precious in our midsts.

Snap Shots of a Rainy Sunday

Snap Shots of a Sunday
I.
I grab my over full purse and little plastic bag, that has been warped a little by my heavy Chinese-English bible, quickly slough of my yellow slippers, and open a big wooden door that leads out into a small hallway. Reaching into the cupboard I pick out my white converse shoes and throw them unceremoniously into the hallway closing the door behind me. I feel the outside of my bag to make sure I have the door key safely tucked in the outer pocket. Opposite me is another door with a metal gate over it, and I hear the piano playing a familiar classical tune as I push the lift button and rush to put on my shoes. The lift arrives with a little ding and the sound of the doors muffling open and closed, I breath a little taking in my reflection and then wincing…unfortunately I didn’t wake up as a supermodel today. Then I realize I didn’t want to be one anyways, I like being scruffy…yes that’s right who wants to be on a subway wall for goodness sake.

The doorman says jo sun and so do I, then off I go crossing the car garage to the main lobby elevator into the main lobby, saying hello to the other doorman, crossing the street and loading onto the yellow and green 14M shuttle bus that takes me wricketing down the hill to Yun Ping Road.

II.
Waiting on the corner of Yun Ping Road where I usually meet my cousin Anna to taxi pool to church, swing my hands impatiently. It is over cast and about 25 degrees celcius; the humidity is starting to make me sticky, but not enough to fog my glasses when I step outside. I give her a call and get her voicemail that speaks to me happily in Cantonese. I think she’s sleeping, drat. Five minutes later when I’m shopping around a nearby department store, Anna calls to say she’s woken up late and I’ll have to grab a taxi myself. Yikes. Never done that before.

I climb the escalator back to the street and find a nearby taxi stand, as I cross the street I can’t recall if Anna said to tell the driver, CRC, or CFC. I phone her again and she helps me memorize the name in Chinese. It stays in my head long enough to tell the driver, who nods and says, “Ho ah.” Yes!! Taxis are never smooth, but this guy is honking at every person who looks at him slyly. He calls at least three other taxi drivers, Chee-sheen (crazy!!), and then to a man pushing a full cart uphill he yells to in Chinese, “Hey you, run faster!” He looks over at me and talks in Chinese, I nod and say ho ah even though I’m not sure what he said and I hand him the 15 HK dollars saying m goi sai (thank you). I survived the taxi experience, it’s starting to rain big droplets and I cross the busy street playing chicken with the oncoming traffic.

III.
Greeted by a tall thin glass door and a man at the door I’ve never seen before says to me in a thick accent, “good morning,” I arrive to church fifteen minutes early. Paul, a regular attendee, introduces me to the doorman as “Sampson, our missionary.” Sampson tells me he just returned from Seattle, WA, and I ask what he was doing there. He replies that he’ll try to explain although his English is poor. Sampson is very kind and explains that he was trying to apply for a visa to immigrate to US. His daughter needs some better doctor care, but he feels nervous about his chances of making it over there. He has a high school education, he worked, and his family was poor. Three daughters, two of them twins, but he trusts even if it is impossible God will make a way.
Sampson invites me to go to China if I have a burden to share the gospel. Every Sunday he goes to church here and then goes to a bordering city in china to an underground church to preach. They are laborers too, who find it hard in the city, they are open and need more long term care. I feel elated to hear such news, to hear of people who live on the graces of God, and who risk imprisonment or “monkey business.” Sampson says police will make you pay them off if you are caught having an underground church meeting, this is “monkey business,” he says. Its nice to have a conversation with a missionary, Sampson has faith in his manner; I can see why people become Christians around him.

VI.
It is cold in the little restaurant, the narrow room that falls back from the road. But, Anna puts a colorful turquoise shall around the both of us. Her hands look so tiny… come to think of it…she’s so tiny. All 15 or so of us crowd on stools around three tables. We cannot put out our elbows, but people chat animatedly. I am not feeling socialable, not sure why. I want to talk around and be my silly self, its sort of hard to do that. I eat as much as I can, but my stomach starts to turn a little. Anna asks me what I want to drink, and even though I don’t really want anything I say ling cha (lemon tea). The tea makes my stomach feel worse. I like that six of us at the table are part of my family in one way or another, either by direct cousinhood, or by marriage or girlfriend status. Anna pays the bill and we all calculate how much we need to give her in our heads or on cell phones.

V.

There is an extra ticket to go to a worship concert, I am not sure if I will be able to understand any of it. But, my cousin Rita invites me, so I go. Until that point I was wondering if its better if I go home, I’m not feeling too hot and sort of being mopey. For some reason I say yes anyways. Rita is ecstatic; this is her husband’s favorite thing to do in the world. She joggles my head a little after I tell her she should stay in HK because in the states she’d feel like a midget. Still, I have to bend over in order for her to reach my head.

The concert is a group of ABCs (American Born Chinese) who are originally from Taiwan. They sing and write their own music, there are lots of Christians here who like them. We get there, and the place is swarming. On the stage is a band full of young stylish Chinese people, to the left an enormous choir, and filled in the front are about six lead singers jumping around and singing worship songs. Thankfully there is English translation on the screen for the song words. Sometimes I try in Mandarin when I get tired of trying that I sing in English. Sometimes I say nothing and just take in everything. It’s nice but overwhelming. A violin starts to play and I woman takes to lead mic. She says in English something about God exchanging our bad things for his good things: our sadness for joy, our anger for patience, and our loneliness for comfort. I feel loneliness well inside of me mixed with fear and uncertainty, I want an exchange, I want good things, and I ask for them. Next to me, my cousin Anna is crying too, she’s crying more than me and keeps crying. A couple times she doesn’t catch my eye, I don’t want to embarrass her so I don’t say anything. It is still raining outside when it ends and we walk back into it and off to some afternoon tea.

VI.
It is near seven o’clock when Anna and I arrive at her flat. In the doorway I sigh a big sigh. Anna goes to freshen up her face before dinner and I slump down on the sofa and lean my head back feeling very tired. I hear lots of washing sounds and open my eyes when some piano music comes on. At first, I think its Anna playing her piano that’s been covered in little things over time, but then I realize it’s a CD. The music fills me up a little as dusk starts to suck the light from the room down over the street, and the football fields, the skyscrapers, the ocean and starts to disappear, melting over the horizon. I want to ask Anna about today, but I can’t find an un-intrusive way to do it. Then she appears around the corner with a little shower cap covering the top part of her hair. “I don’t know if you could catch it, but Sampson said some things after the sermon. He said he was glad to see me going to the church because he’d been praying for me for a while to start coming regularly. Actually, I have been hesitating to go to this church for about a month.” She goes on to tell why she wasn’t sure about going, but that she had actually started joining the church on Sunday because of me at first. I ask her, not sure what to say rubbing my head on my arm tiredly, if she is glad she’s going now. She says, “Yes, I am glad you are here,” and disappears again around the corner to do some more freshening. It starts to smell clean and purfumey. I listen again to the music and smile to myself searching out the now darkened window. A couple of my tears fall down onto my lap but I slop them off with my hand. The sad Brenda has disappeared as thankfulness overcomes me. Its nice to know my coming to HK, was a small stone on a scale for Anna, the one that tipped it so it touched down and stayed. This is definitely a miracle, and more gracious than humanly possible. I have no need to ask about her teary day.

VII.
The mini bus shakes as it climbs back up the hill to Uncle Tony’s where dinner and family are waiting. The night sky his hidden by the clouds, but the city lights blink at me like little diamonds as I walk a little ways from the bus stop to the main lobby, back over the car-park, into building J, up the lift to the 25th floor, take off my white converse and step back in through the big wooden door, just in time for 7:30 dinner with the Chung family, some silly conversation and a football game.

Super Naughty Fat Boy

Today I got to go to the country side of HK to see my cousin Rita's place. I really liked it, you know me, I like the country and scenery stuff. It took maybe an hour to get there and the crew of younger cousins joined us, Billy, Vivien, Eric, Anna and I. By younger what I really mean is under fourty, because well most of them are my seniors by no less than ten years. Although I think ages are different in HK, these days people don't get married until maybe thirty or late twenties because of money I think. Its so expensive to by a house. Ok, so we went there and the streets are all bumpy and narrow. There are tropical trees on every side, with big ole leaves an such. And then we parked on the side of the "road", and a foot or so away is this little drop off into the tropicl forest or what not. It was wicked. Eric tried to convince me that it would be safe to jump down, but I thought I'd not try my luck. There wer also actual house looking houses. Most houses in HK are more like what we would call apartments really, but you buy them like condos. They were still in apartment form, close together, however there was little yards and the like and in general more space. Rita and Justin have a quaint little house that is pretty antique style inside.
We also met their sons, whose names elude me at the moment...but actually they are cats. One is knicknamed "super naughty fat boy", he is quite frisky although he is ho fei, that is very fat. And it was hilarious because Vivien is very afraid of cats and kept hiding behind Billy and squeeking every time one walked within a three foot radius of her. It was wierd the cats are sort of like dogs, and they sort of obey and sit...stuff like that.
I had a good time, just clowning around and hanging out, although they have a habit of talking in chinese so fastly and I can't understand very much anyways. Eric I think got so bored he fell asleep on the couch. The evening was fun for me, the busted out the piano and Rita and I sand some worship songs together, that was my favorite part. That part felt like home. Justin busted out his old out of tune guitar, which I tuned but it still sounded like a dying cat. I miss playing my guitar ah. Anna and Rita play the piano, but Anna totally busted out with these complicated memorized peices of piano music. I knew most of them because my eldest sister Vivian used to play them all the time. Wah, it was very impressive. Listening to her play felt like I was back in Portland sitting on our old couch and being a little kid with glasses half the size of her face.
Then they took me out for some dinner and the food was delicious, as usual, and I stuffed my face, as usual, and felt like a cow afterwards, as usual. Sometimes is difficult not knowing how to communicate or understand what people are saying. I found myself sort of fading into the noise of people slurping soup, and the sound of the AC, people's chopsticks clanking against the bowls and the general clamour of people laughing and talking in cantonese. I wanted to make a rule that they can only speak english for like ten minutes so I could feel more a part of what was going on...but then I'd feel sort of like I was in my classroom. At the same time, I felt very cared for, at least in the way they express it. I felt honored because all of this getting together and driving around and eating was for me. It was a treat designed to let me see more of HK, a treat of which I am most thankful. I'm glad I'm getting around to understanding that if I asked they would have abliged me, which is a comforting thought.

Typhoon Warning

So, I'd like to let you all know, that I hate touristy places. I've discovered this after because I went to the Avenue of the Stars yesterday, which is in Kowloon and its a street thingy on the bay that has star's hand prints and stuff. It was actually quite beautiful and I took some great shots, but there were these speakers everywhere that were playing horribly cheesy music. Yuck, and that was annoying, also, I wasn't smart enough to eat before I got there so...I grabbed some food. Just let me warn you, never eat at a touristy place because its overpriced and tastes like bogies. Literally. Now, just plan ahead and pack a lunch or get food at a real local joint. Actually, it was quite enjoyable I"m just over dramatizing the bad parts. Though it was a bit overwhelming with the music and the nasty food. On another note, there is grass in Hong Kong, dispite popular belief. i went to Kowloon park and found a little grassy place to sit on a bench...but there was a catch. it was dark but lit by street lights and I was sitting quietly sort of singing to myself and out of nowhere a rat ran infront of me and underneath my bench. He sort of scurried into some bushes, but later came out again which freaked me out a little. I kid you not, the little guy came within a foot of me. That was sort of strange, so I left after the second appearance. I guess he liked my singing or something.

Teaching has been much more of a joy this week, although I've been busy. I am getting to know my students better and how to handle them. This week I"m doing some lessons on American Slang, which is a fun topic for all of us. Plus, I'm teaching them how to play games like BS, you know the card came. They really enjoy that.

My cousin Eric, however, thinks that I won't have to go to work tomorrow because there is a Typhoon warning. I think a level one warning means that its not a bit deal, but he contests that if it gets to eight, we have no work. I asked him if we're going to die, he said, "You might, but i know I'm going to live." don't worry, its all a joke. For those of you worrying about my safety now, I really am quite safe. I am told Typhoon warnings occur in HK this time of year about five times a summer. I'll let you know if anything drastic happens.

Thanks Jack Johnson/ Lightning and Thunder

Late last night, as I was returning home from a wonderful meal with my aunt, uncle and three cousins, my ears were greeted with a delightful and familiar noise. My cousin Rita, who is so short she needs to put the car seat all the way to the front, drove me home last night with her usually bubbly candor, and to my delight Jack Johnson’s voice meet me on the road home. Somehow I thought that when I came to Hong Kong, I would just soak up the place like a sponge... I didn't know I would miss familiar sounds or voices. And it is strange, but I didn't want the car ride to end, riding through the windy roads watching the lights of the city and listening to Jack Johnson's scratchy acoustic sound was worlds together in my heart. Delightful. After which I went on a short stroll in the night air, which was balmy yet cool. It's been raining on and off for the last couple days and I'm told this is normal Hong Kong weather. It’s actually been one of the hottest summers in recollection for most native Hong Kong people. The rain is a welcomed treat, although I thought I knew the meaning of a downpour, being from Eugene. However, I've experienced a nuance of the word; it is more like torrential down pour here. In a moment you can get stuck in the rain and even with an umbrella, it is like someone poured a bucket of water on you. I realized this after I was on the bus and at first there were speckles on the window, then streams, then there was just water flowing down like a fountain. When I got back to Uncle Tony's flat, I shuffled off to bed, but I couldn't sleep for a long while due to the periodic flashes of lightning that overthrew my room. A flash would light the sky, then I would count…one...two...and a sound like God clapping his wet hands together unleashed rain and thunder. The thunder was unlike any I've experienced in my life, it was like the entire world was roaring from a deep pitted throat unleashing its wrathful noise. It was a bit scary. Especially when, at one point, there was no time to count to one between the flash and the clap and thunder. It was strange to look out of my window on the 25th floor at night and be surrounded by a grey cloud.

On another note, I've finally accomplished some touristy things. On Saturday, I went to Central Pier and took some pictures. There are many foreigners there, all speaking languages like French, Hindu, Tagalog, etc. I didn't feel as strange taking pictures, but it certainly felt touristy because it was not that crowded and it was pretty pristine. There were lots of cute old Chinese men fishing and sitting around the Pier though, and it was fun to watch them. There was actually a street guy playing a Chinese violin and a mouth harp thingy, and he was playing this song I used to know as a kid called “Red River Valley.” It seemed like such an inappropriate song for Hong Kong, but it was interesting nonetheless. The song is this old west country song. Anyways I took a little video clip of it because it made me laugh.

Little Diner

My days lately have been pretty full of classes, and preparing classes. But, it is really nice to have a set time for work and a set time for play. After work, the day sort of slips off your shoulders and lands back on the next day. Its actually been sort of a stressful week, mostly because there are lots of classes to teach and little monsters to attempt to control. My favorite part of my work day, besides the cute little monsters, is eating lunch. Anna EE, took me down to this little Diner very close to our work building. It is a very narrow, long room, when you first enter there is what looks like a kitchen on the right and the cash register on the left. The seats are brown, and there are drawers on the sides of the tabels which are full of utensils and napkins. In Hong Kong, many people eat lunch alone on their work break, and there isn't much room, so you usually sit across and next to people you don't know. It took me some time getting used to this concept. But, really after a while it doesn't seem strange, or like someone is in your space. Today I went down to the diner on my own, and although I couldn't read the menue I knew what I wanted. Some wonton mein and some dong lei cha, Wonton and egg noodles, and cold milk tea. It was a very scrumptious meal, and it felt good to be able to order my food, although that's about all know how to order. Sitting there in the little diner, I didn't feel lonely or out of place, but like for a while at least, I was part of the fabric of Hong Kong. Everything here seems to move like water down a stream. The constant flow of people who weave in and out of each other's way, and dodge buses, trams, carts and street cleaners, the constant flow of feet beating down the pavement and the incessant humm of voices pulsing through the dewy air. It is a wonder we don't all go crazy for some silence, but as i said before, I think there is a different kind of silence here if you can come by it. The closest I've found to silence was when it rained one night. I was in my room and happened to hear something soft beating the window. I looked and there was rain falling down, it was making little craters on the pavement below. The air felt a bit cooler and the water seemed to drown out everything else.