What church has to do with faith. Pak Lum suggested me not to find the answer because the answer is going to dissappoint me. The weather was incredibly sunny and my mood is neither good nor bad. I really don't know how to describe. Numbness may be the term. I walked around in CC library aimlessly. Books have always been my greatest focus; yet I lose my orientation in the sea of books.
One time he told me that sometimes he feels that life is like waves of people, some come and go and few stay. Amid the noises, he wonders who is listening to him indeed. I do, I always do. Do you know?
I wish I will be given more chances to listen to you. Do you know?
Time is getting slower and slower.
I talked with Carrie last night, the PO who's in Shangyi county, Hebei now. You don't know what kind of relief I had when I got through the line. The line was very clear. The first thing I wanted to do is to tell him that IT WORKS. We should have no problem to keep in touch. But does it matter any longer? When I got the email reply from Carrie, my heart was a little relieved. I wanted to write him to inform him that Internet access isn't too bad. Does it matter any longer? What matters any longer? Carrie told me a lot about the job, weather, clothing, telecommunications, travel, fellowship, adjustment....
I don't know if relief or fear is the word to describe the feelings after talking with Carrie. Yet, honestly, I just grab God tight in hand with I march this path. Meanwhile, I need a lot of support from other fellow sisters and brothers. World Vision is not a job of myself. It's God's work and I sincerely pray that God will send me spiritual supports along the way.
This afternoon, Pak Lum sent me a song.
"God Will Make A Way"
Deep in my heart, I have to admit I love him still. Yet, torn between the options and struggling between my desire and his will, I chose to accept his decision because I know it will be better for us, eventually. Earlier, Kelvin was chatting with me on icq, and I learned that he broke up with his girlfriend about a year ago. They tried so hard to stay in the long distance relationship and by the time Kelvin had gone there to be with her, they broke up. He said, "I felt I owe her something." "Why?" I asked. He replied, "I don't know she has been waiting for me for years."
Pressure gets in in situation as such. There's no guarantee in relationship. And any flipping commitment only may hurt much later. Perhaps he knows that we aren't at a stage to be developing further. Cutting the thread earlier is a better way of handling the issue.
Life is really strange.
God, would you bless Henry abundantly? I wish you would.
Yesterday morning, I wrote a letter to Henry. The half-of-a-bowl-of-rice's-day has ended. I am no longer afraid of losing him as a lover because the relationship finally has come to an end. With this conclusion sinking gradually to the bottom of my heart, I gathered my strength to write a letter to him, detailing a fear I have kept in my heart. I could tell him finally because I eventually, after being with him for months and after accepting the separation, understand that I failed in communicating with him partly because I was not willing to let him touch the inner wound of mine.
My strong and stiff facade is covering a very vulnerable Dora inside. The confident outfit hides the inconfident little girl. More, I am very insecure since a little girl. For years, I fear how others look at me and consider me; unable to accept myself, I chose a silly way to ruin myself; and I chose a stiff way to form a Dora outside that's cheating the majority.
I still remember Henry's words: "I am not Bruce Lee and I am Henry ma." That has been inprinted in my heart. The greatest attraction of Henry is that he's the very rare person I ever met who can truly embrace himself. He is the one who can accept how he is and in peace with himself. That's a great attraction to me because, on contrast, the very confident Dora most see is indeed rejecting who she is and even at times denying to herself and others who Dora really is.
Henry taught me to accept one's strength and weakness--embracing all facades of a person. I did not know why I came to this courage finally to tell Henry--now, you see the true self of mine and I can really tell you honestly--I can face myself now.
God's work is very very interesting. Before leaving for World Vision, God takes away Henry from me. God forces me to come through a stage to accept myself and see myself as a valuable person, who's loved by God. I should not hide my true self to others. I sincerely wish that Henry and I can become honest friends and share difficulties and laughter, though not as partners, as friends.
In front of God, what more can I bargain for. He's given me a resurrection from the death valley and what can I as a vulnerable person reject Him. If you have been through what I have been to, if you have lived at the verge of hopelessness and helplessness, if you have lived in the bottom of the sea, if you have known that you're totally uncontrollable, if you have almost lost yourself, if you have rejected and despised yourself totally, and if you have experienced the salvation of Christ, you will begin to understand why I come to make this decision, and why, however painful it is, allows God to take away what I consider one of the greatest gifts of God--Henry--from me.
For the past three days, friends, knowing my distress, prayed earnestly for me. Most of my prayers, however, were on Henry. I am lucky to have God sending me helpers. I wonder if Henry is dealing with this pain inside his mind. God, please I earnestly ask you to comfort Henry with your great love. If there's any pain to deal with, lay it on my shoulder and please take the yuke from him. I love him so much that it pains me to feel that he's in pain. I am willing to give up anything in exchange for his happiness. Please walk with him and carry him at times. I know there are past and current pains stabbing at his heart. I know those pains are beyond my understanding and feeling; yet, I know you are the gentle and loving God who promises me that if we ask, you will fulfill. I ask, with my promise to follow your guidance, for your help in loving Henry and freeing him from the pains he's been through.
I let you take charge of our future. Opening my hand, I give it to you. I believe and trust you that you would give what you know the best for me, and for him. If he's happy, I am willing to let go of anything, including my desire to be with him for life.
Meanwhile, I have to prepare for my journey to the North. Thanks God I have got the emails from Carrie Tsang, the PO I am replacing in Shangyi, Hebei. I feel a little relieved because I know at least the internet access is available. I wish to prepare myself better before marching into this road.
The talk with Susan this afternoon is the most relieving. She reminds me of Henry, who gives me tremendous peace and trust to reveal what's inside. Meanwhile, she tells me how grateful she's to have me as a friend.
GOD, I WISH YOU WOULD BLESS HENRY WITH WHATEVER YOU"VE PREPARED FOR HIM.
My Father,
Finally, I feel my heart more at peace to come to you and pray again.
It seems to me that the end of relationship with Henry has happened for a long while, although it began yesterday. Perhaps I have thought it over and over, and finally I come to a stage that I have to pray to you and leave this to you. Father, I began yesterday to feel hurt, then skeptical, then doubtful; slowly I become a little anguish; and gradually I began to understand everything without your permission won't occur. Everything happens for a reason, although from my current understanding I am not able to see the reason clearly, but ultimately I come to admit that you are the Lord, and I have to trust on you, not on my own understanding.
For some time I questioned--why you gave Henry to me only for a few months. Hurtful as it is, I still thank you sincerely for the great time we had for the past few months. I wish I would understand your reason in the whole process. Or I wish you will open my eyes to see the blessings you have given me while bringing him to my path. Daddy, no matter how people may view it, I still am very thankful for this chance to know him. Personally I have gained a lot from being with him. He does not like to teach or change any person around him; yet, he does inspire me a lot. In him, I learn the importance of listening. How attentive listening serves as a soothing dose to people in difficulties. He teaches me to be calm in making decision and going to listen to your voice in my heart. He also puts a lot of trust on me believing me that I have the ability to make decision. He told me that he's not Bruce Lee, but Henry. For that I keep in my heart--that he is who he is. He shows me how important it is to think thoroughly before rushing for a conclusion. There is part of me which dislikes his way to dealing with this separation; there is part of me truly admires his way of handling it--very calm and considerate. I don't like the result; but I have to admit that he has taken the time to consider a problem that I have ignored. He is much stronger than I thought of him.
God, I wish you will teach me how to pray in time of sadness and distress. I wish you will give me a peaceful heart in all ups and downs. I thank you for giving me this first test before I leave for my path to the mainland. I know that when I am all alone in China, all I have is to stick to you. God, teach me how to rely on you when I am unhappy and sad. God, give me joy at all time, even when things do not turn out the way I expect or wish for, I still hope I have a joyous and thankful heart to come back to you.
Meanwhile, I pray that you will comfort Henry and please give a lot of blessings to him. I know he has loved me truly. It must not be easy to come to this conclusion; but he has chosen to end it, at least, giving me a easier way to handle a potential problem I have not prepared for. My father, I wish you will lead him through this as well and you will show him your blessing in this short relationship. I always believe that Henry is very strong in your love. Although he may appear somewhat conservative, he indeed has his faith and trust in you much stronger than I know. Please give him blessings in his future path especially when he is marching his career path. As well, please give his parents chances to know you. I know only you can give him the best. I once wish the best would be me; slowly I come to realize that God knows him much better than I do and I only wish that you will always make him grow strongly in your love.
My dad, sorry that I was upset with you and even blamed you for taking away from him. When you have given yourself to die for me, how dare I to negotiate with you? Yet, I still have one hope--I wish that you can help us to understand each other and allow us to be friends again, and to grow as brother and sister in God's family. I wish you will take care of the time in the future between us. Whatever you think the best for us, please give us wisdom to see. All I wish is to walk in God's love.
Father, honestly, it's very painful; much more painful that I would ever expect. I wonder why this pain hurts so much from any other experience I had before. All I have to say is that I do love him sincerely. And love hurts at time. Please let me not be selfish in my love for him. Although separation is hurting me, you told me love is patience, kind, not envy, not self-seeking, not easily angered. You never told me love is possessive. So I am willing to let you take this gift back and give this gift to someone who's more suitable to have it.
For these days, I particularly have to thank you for all the you have given me as well. David's love for me helps me to endure the time I felt despair. I am an insecure child, afraid of being abandoned. Yet, you have given me this brother whose words I can truly trust. I know he won't forsake me, and Dad you told me you will never forsake me. With this love from him and you, I feel stronger. Thanks for giving me a chance to inspire David. I don't know how to thank you my Lord for giving me this anchor so that I don't feel lost and lonely in all paths I choose to take.
Daddy, thank you for other friends who truly feel my pain together with me: meow, fox, Susan, fatty, ja, tsz yan. Now I have them to be with me to go through this first obstacle of my new vocation. Yet, when I am in China, I know the only one I can rely on is YOU. And I sincerely pray that you will teach me how to stick to you in all good and bad times.
My father, I once again wish that you will give Henry the best you have prepared for him. My pain is irrelevant. Please let him experience your love. If in future I have a chance to communicate with him again, Lord, please give us openness and ability to be sincere in our sharing. I was blessed to have the chance to listen to him in the past few months.
I am soon marching into another realm of life. My Lord, please strengthen my soul so that I am able to deal with the challenges ahead of me. Give me wisdom to rely on you, not on myself. Teach me how to be grateful in sufferings. More, please give me blessings when I am away from church. Yet, I know you will prepare the best for me. I hope I can learn how to grow strongly in your love.
Please take good care of my family and let them understand my vocation and decision more. I know at times they are worried, Dave will be worried, and Henry will be worried too; please bring your comfort to them.
When I go back to my dormitory next week, please give me peace. A lot of memories may arise and there are emotions that I still have to deal with. After all I am just a human being, not a saint; but I know I will learn to accept it with peace. If you promise you to take good care of Henry, I will be able to face painful paths joyously.
Thank you for listening to my prayer. There are more in my heart yet my words are limited. But God you can read my heart and I trust in you. Keep an eye on me and never forsake me.
In Christ, Amen.
今早禱告，說不出話來，望著繞天盤旋的鷹，我的淚撲簌簌地流。刀割的感覺沒有因一晚薨薨的夢而減退，唯一說出: 「你要拿去的便拿去。」
你要拿去的便拿去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去。
昨晚，在飯桌前告訴二哥到宣明會工作之事，他二話不說亦不問，便說家中沒有錢。為什麼人家總沒有給我一個解釋的機會，便給我定了罪? 我不是義工噢，錢還是按時給媽媽，半點不減。我告訴哥哥，為什麼你不問一聲情況，便作了結局? 我的心情已因早上的事弄得很糟，走到浴室中，哭了。還是最後爬在電腦的鍵盤中，在零晨的零亂零碎的零中，我選擇了跟自己談。人家不讓我說，人家不讓我聽，我連去明白的機會都沒有時，我選擇了困在文字的囹圄中。
我慢慢發覺對於那個我稱為很愛的他，我實在不明白，我以為我很認識他; 原來我以往沒有用心去察覺他的感受，我一直在表達自己，忽略了他的感受。
或許，我沒有什麼機會去走進人的內心; 或許，機會一直有的，只是我沒有把握好。
手指在鍵盤上緩緩的抖動，我原來害怕孤獨，被遺棄。害怕走到大草原的塞北之地，望著繁星點點，想起那年那晚上的那番話。我為什麼愛他? 為什麼去愛卻自私地行己路?
哥哥最後給我一個去說話的機會; 更重要的是他給我去聆聽他不安內心的聲音。我要的不是認同，我只想可以去明白別人的感受。感謝哥哥最後都明白我，讓我知道他的困難，大家了解了許多。我的頭沉重得要死，昏睡過去。
今早如常六時起床，渴了媽媽沖的花旗蔘，胡里胡塗梳洗後便去乘巴士。我爬上城巴的上層，走到最前的一行，想看清楚那那不勒斯的天空。我仰起頭來，看著高速公路旁高樓大廈緣的高高的天空，想起了風箏。要斷線的時間我會放手，我從不愛捉著別人，我萬萬想不到我會苦了疼我的人。或許，我真的沒有去明白人家的感受。去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去，去。別回頭，我受不了。
我受不了。
我從來不愛放風箏
Thursday: 04.25.02
What more
He wrote and said he wanted to cut the thread. I was a little shocked. I was soaked with my own tears. Angela walked by. She came in. Not knowing what has happened, she said a prayer with me.
The past few days have been quite uneasy. I did not know why I could not get hold of him. In the morning, I sat in the shuttle bus and a strange feeling clipped in. I muttered to myself, "God, I can give everything to you, don't take him from me." When I came into the office and checked my email box, there was his message sitting there.
A message and decision, I believe, have taken him serious consideration and thought. All I want to try is to think from his perspective.
Where do we go from here?
I did not expect that things will turn out like this. Feeling paralyzed, I called Skippy. All I need is someone to be there. I spend some time to try to understand and accept it. I chose to accept not because I don't want to try harder, just because I respect him and love him too much to make things hard.
For some while, I got almost angry with God, asking Him why He would not let this come easier. I asked and asked. Skippy said, "He gave His son for you already." I am just a human being, not a saint.
Why at the time I need the most support with the new challenge looming to me he chose to cut the thread? Why when I have let go of everything, hoping there's still something important to me still there.... and at that moment, he chose to end? Why, I asked many times.
Perhaps he thinks it's really the best for us. I bet it's not easy for him to come up to this conclusion. I love him. And love is acceptance. Accept that he is who he is. If it's his choice, I only wish him the best.
I felt this deep cut into my heart. After lunch, my brain was stifled. I went to sleep on the floor of Guimui's. I could barely stand the loneliness in my room, and could not stand the idea that in the past, at about three, he would call me.
For the past few months, I have gained a lot of joy, and learned a lot from him. I love him because of the very unique characters of his. But if we are not meant to be for each other, I will just have to let go. I hate it. Why when I love someone so much I still have to give it up? What are you asking me to give you? I wish I could only understand his feelings better.
The pain sinks and sinks. And it hurts more than ever I could have imagined. God. I don't know what to say. But please take care of him. I know it's not easy, for him and for me.
Wednesday: 04.24.02
A native of the Mediterranean, the artichoke is a perennial in the thistle group of the sunflower (Compositae) family. The "vegetable" that we eat is actually the plant's flower bud. The artichoke makes no concessions to those who want a quick meal. Most people cook the whole artichoke, and slip each leaf petal, one by one. Each petal yields very little tasty part at the tip ; and you have to go through a time-consuming process to slip one petal after another until you get to the delicate artichoke heart, which is the size of your thumb. Pain in the neck to eat, some might consider it is.
I read this morning:
"It is not so difficult to see that, in our particular world, we all have a strong desire to accomplish something. Some of us think in terms of great dramatic changes in the structure of our society. Others want at least to build a house, write a book, invent a machine or win a trophy. And some of us seem to be content when we just do something worthwhile for someone. But practically all of us think about ourselves in terms of our contribution to life.... When we start being too impressed by the results of our work, we slowly come to erroneous conviction that life is one large scoreboard where someone is listing the points to measure our worth. And before we are fully aware of it, we have sold our soul to the many grade-givers. " -- The Inner Voice of Love, Henri M.J. Nouwen.
What a line--WE HAVE SOLD OUR SOUL TO THE MANY GRADE-GIVERS!
If we build ourselves upon the words-comments-compliments-recognitions-grades-salary-scale-size-of-house-brand-of-car-social-reputation-contribution that we believe to have possessed, we are simply circumventing in a maze. Never will we get to the heart of an artichoke.
Sometimes it's a such a pain to eat an artichoke because each petal yields so little that I won't feel satisfied. In life, we slip so many petals, but they don't seem really fulfill us. A good raise in the corporate ladder, a praise from your partner, a genuine hug--we often care so much what others or this society think of us or do to us, and none of their words and recognition can truly satisfy us as a matter of fact. No petal can fully fulfill your inner heart.
Nouwen continued, "In solitude we can slowly unmask the illusion of our possessiveness and discover in the center of our own self that we are not what we can conquer, but what is given to us." In solitude, I guess, does not necessarily mean that we lock ourselves up physically. Mentally in solitude is the gist--that's getting the heart of an artichoke without distracted by the many voices that are measuring and grading. Getting to the inner heart of yours and to appreciate and be thankful of what life itself has given you, instead of fighting for the worldly voices, is perhaps what Nouwen was sharing with me this morning.
I feel uneasy when people say that they are proud of the decision that I have made to be with WV. I feel freaky when strangers name this as a kind of thing what "angels" do. I even feel disgusted when people put me into pigeonholes and say--wow, you are going to contribute the motherland.
Do you know the secret? The secret that I often get more than I give. I am blessed to be given a chance to live and work in China. If you utter "wow," please say that to the Father. Tell Him how much you appreciate his marvelous work.
I am just learning to accept what's given me and to appreciate it.
Tuesday: 04.23.02
剛剛得悉新工作的地點－河北省的尚義縣。河北省位於黃河下游以北，在北緯３６－４２度東經１１３０－１１９度之間，古時稱冀．河北省東為天津市，面臨渤海，西倚太行山與山西；北與內蒙古接壤；北京雖然在政治上是直轄市，在地埋上是在河北省的中部．１８．７萬平方公里的河北省地貌複雜：太行和燕山組成河北山地丘陵；東南平原海拔在１００米以下；而我工作的尚義縣是在河北省北方，人稱壩上的高原之地，平均在海拔１２００－１５００米，剛在內蒙古南緣．
小時侯第一次寫日記時是在小三，在校簿中我記下：我想長大後移居新西蘭，與羊為伴．想不在十多年後，我會到塞北去，尋找失去了的羊．
失去了的羊．
昨晚，跟哈爾濱來的同房談到這些年來的自己，其實十分洋化；對中國大陸一直都不存多大的好感．十七歲那年在歐洲生活後，已很少看中文書籍，多年來不住在浸洋水，沉醉於西方的懷抱中．到中國工作是我一直沒想到的；從前只想到南美或印度去．在港工作一段日子，慢慢想到華北這大平原，想到找尋打在丹麥時已扔掉的一部份鴨子．
壩上地區的平均年溫是一兩度左右，冬天可冷至零下三十多度．聽起來已有點心寒，不住禱告希望神額外給我恩典，可以生埋和心理上適應到這大漠．看到風吹草低見牛羊的草原照片，心卻覺得戰戰兢兢，叫自己盡力而為． 大熱暑天，卻是拿出寒衣的日子． Sunday: 04.21.02
Lego
Leg [v] to play.
Lege [n] play or game.
Lege: ~hus = playhouse; ~kammerat = playmate.
I got those explanations from my Danish dictionary. Lego isn't something from North America but Denmark, the little country north of Germany, who oftentimes prides itself on its distinctive tongue and sense of nationalism. Fox's writing about his building a stand out of Lego for his new toy iPoc reminds me years ago, when I was still in primary school, that I had spent time playing with Lego.
My first ever friend and neighbor was called May, whose father, originally was an ivory sculptor. With the international ban on ivory held, May's father was forced to chance occupation. For couple of years, he went to New York working in a relative's Chinese restaurant. Fujian people all have this strong sense of brotherhood, having their relatives all over to work together. Everytime when May's father came back from the States, he would load his luggage with lots of toys. Among all, Lego was a must.
Seldom would my mum buy us kids any toy, I therefore spent many afternoons after finishing my homework to go to May's home and play with her. My aim, of course, was the toys she got.
Genetically imprinted to be addicted to television, May and his family would glue themselves to the TV, leaving me alone to deal with the toys. I enjoyed building castle, gas station, space station, houses, holiday resort out of May's lego, who came in all forms and kinds.
Lego building is like what we accumulate in life. The more experience we got, the better the output tends to be. Everyone has some limited sets of lego, like our talents; some can build a space shuttle, others can't; some live better staying in a castle, some can only afford a small house.
One thing for sure though is that when you have built something, if you want something else, you have to pull down the building you have built, leaving more available pieces to build again. If lucky, and if you have the ability, you can buy a new set of lego to build. Like investment in life, sometimes you can afford getting more qualifications, professional skills, experiences so that you may be able to build something grander. However, one thing you cannot buy in Toy "R" us--you cannot buy time.
The time you play is limited, although we don't know how long.
Some build a mansion and become so satisfied, and they decide to stay with that. Sometimes, some people decide to make a drastic move, pulling down everything, only later to regret that they cannot resume what's built before. In any sense, every construction requires a demolition.
When we desire something, we have to make sacrifice. To let go of a castle you build is not neccessarily bad, when you have idea in mind what's the next thing you wanna build.
Until one time, I have made something so nice, only to know later that an Invisible Hand would come to pull it down totally. Afterall, the legos were not mine. The owner of every pieces had the right to pull down and take away whatever I thought belonged to me.
When He comes to take away whatever I think belongs to me now, including my life, all I can do is to really understand--afterall, nothing is really mine. Saturday: 04.20.02
Midsummer Night's Dishes
A big bunch of fresh spinach. Get rid of the stalks and only use leaves. Wash them thoroughly. Simmer a pot of veggie stock. Dump spinach in until the spinach is just begin to break. Drain the stock, and put the spinach aside to leave them cool. On other pot, fry some chopped onions, put some steamed potato dices in, pour the drained stock in, boil until everything is soft. Put the stock aside and wait until it's cool. When both the spinach and stock are chilled, puree them together in a blender until you can see a fresh greenish spinach color. But the puree into a pot and simmer it again. For a final touch, scoop two table spoons of creme freche in. When serving, grin a tiny pit of nutmeg in.
Goat Cheese Pancakes go well with this soup. Cheese and Spinach are often good couple. In a bowl, stir milk, baking flour and smashed potatoes together well until it gives a nice resistant consistency. Throw in diced onion, diced red and green peppers. Sprinkle with parmesan cheese, salt and pepper. Add diced goat cheese and mix everything well. In a non-sticking pen, put in olive oil and a few little cubes of butter, scoop the mixture and make them into little pancakes. Pan-fry them until it gives a nice golden crust in both sides.
Yummy. These two dishes will make a midsummer night fresh and loving.
Haha, even this duck has to shamelessly say that I am a nice person to be with--who works hard, who makes good food, who entertains well, who laughs out of my heart.
Shameless and shyless.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Having served two nice midsummer dishes, I am preparing now a play to accompany the food.
At Ten and a half, I arrived Janice home in Wong Lai Chung Gap road. Janice's first question was, "Dora Jei Jei, when are you leaving?" Grumpily, she looked at me. I replied, "In a month. So for the remaining classes, we will be focusing on a comedy--The Midsummer Night's Dream." It's the first time I introduced Shakespeare's play to this 10-year-old.
"When we get this play practiced a few times, we would have it performed to your parents and hui [hui is Janice's brother]," I said with a big smile. For the remaining two hours, I was detailing her with all happenings around Hermia, Lysander, Helena, Demetrius, Oberon, Titania, and of course, the nasty Puck.
By the end of the lesson, she has already got the momentum to work on it. We were making the stage, designing costumes, and I would prepare the script by the next class.
Teaching Janice is a blessing indeed. I often got so much fun. If one day I have my own child, I will go crazy playing dramas with the little one. Janice always teaches me something--never be shy and always be expressive. Thanks sweetheart, this sloppy teacher learns so much from you.
Discipline teacher
In the afternoon, I went to Chai Wan to tutor the third and fourth formers, as usual. In the middle of my class, a woman in causal wear in her forties, in an almost "bitchy" [pardon my course language] voice, ran inside my classroom and said, "Ms. Tsang, students must wear uniforms even on Saturday, and now I am taking your students upstairs, and I would give them demerits." I have not had the time to figure out who the hell that woman was, she already grabbed a girl away At first, I thought she's just one of the school servants from the way she dressed. Later, my students told me that she's actually the discipline teacher.
After five minutes, the girl came down, with tears welling up her eyes.
Honestly, that woman seemed like a prison warden to me.
Too bad that I don't set the rules at school or choose the discipline teachers. Honestly, I hate teachers treating students like prisons, yelling and shout at them and using the very nasty ways to fight against students.
Perhaps I am too naive, because some say that you cannot be nice with students. If I were one of the students, I would even be more rebellious because there's no respect at all from others. I felt quite uneasy while the girl was sitting at the corner with both eyes totally moist and red. My little devilish voice in my heart proclaimed that what a "bitch" that discipline teacher's. I know school disciplines are important. But what kind of attitudes you are using to deal with students? It's not a triad meeting, or a prison ward. Afterall, that girl was incredibly obedient, who always came on time, performed well, and dressed in uniform. For some reason, today, she's in casual wear.
When this class left, some fourth formers streamed in. Having spotted a few in causal wears, I warned them about the discipline teacher who's keep an eye on everyone today [today the principal was at school for some functions; so the school rules were suddenly tightened]. In a few minutes, they have found themselves some uniforms from other students and sat there listening to class.
Am I too loose?
Too much of a softy at times.
What will I miss?
After school, I met Irene and Susan at Delifrance in Windsor House, Causeway Bay. Susan began,"Dora, you seem like you are not worrying or preparing much. You are like you're just going to Lantau Island, just not like you're going somewhere far. Look at you, you don't get nervous." I smiled, "What should I be nervous about?"
Perhaps I am not as relaxing as I appear to be; honestly, I don't know what I should be nervous about; I really have no idea where to begin to be worrying, although the mainland seems so different a place to a lot, especially Hong Kongers.
I replied, "Hm, I do have one thing I worry about. Only thing that I think of is that I don't want myself to be upset with God in difficulties. I only want at all ups and downs, keep a thankful heart. That's what I pray for most of the time.
She continued, "You have to move out of your place with the birdview of Tolo Harbor? Will you miss it?"
"It's not me anyway; well, even if it's mine, I don't own a view anyway," I replied.
"So, perhaps the only thing you're gonna miss is your family," she muttered.
I laughed and chuckled, "Susan, honestly, that isn't really in my mind."
Am I so cold blooded? As a matter of fact, having been away from home and lived on my own for some years, I have learned to develop very little attachment to anything. I feel no special attachment to friends, places, things, or even my family, or sometimes even my lover. Don't mistake it though. The fact that I don't feel attached to them does not necceassarily mean that I don't care for or love them. I just don't feel a physical need to be with them, that's all. At least, it does not bother me to move away from what I am familiar with. Honestly, I often can be alone without having any sense of loneliness. Well, there's one thing I am quite attached to now: Lord.
For the past week, I have got emails farewelling me.
Skippy called and said, "When you are away, remember to take care. When you need anything, just call me and let me know. When you have anything to pray for, send me a prayer list and Caroline and I and the kids will pray for you?" He would ask me over again when's the last day I am in HK. A friend as such is a blessing. He cares for me like a father cares for a daughter. I wrote back, "Skippy, I am not dying. I am just going somewhere to work. I will still in contact you. Please sir, don't sound like my mum."
Some online readers begin at least miss my writings assuming that this hp will end soon.
Farewell dinners are lining up.
Everyone is to really see me off and treats me as if I am immgrating to somewhere for good. Oh man, I AM NOT LEAVING FOR GOOD OR DYING.
Honestly, I don't know why I am taking this move so easy. Afterall, it's only an hour or two's flight from HK to where I am working. The world isn't so big. Contact does not only come in a physical or verbal form. Real love transcends time and space.
I do love him deeply. No one knows what future will be, but I know who's holding it; that's good enough--My all-time motto. Sometimes I wonder what love is, and what actions should be taken to prove one's love? Or can love be ever demonstrated? I cannot give much what a lover can usually give, like a physical tough or comfort. If possible, I will learn and try to love as what's said in First Corinthian 13, with patience, kindness, without boldness, envy, pride, self-seeking attempts, anger, record of wrongs.
I don't know if I can. All I want is to love and accept you as who you really are.
Friday: 04.19.02
Mum bought a few fresh big sea snails to brew a big pot of soup. Unusually sweet, the soup kept making my tummy happy. Even in the morning, before leaving home for work, I had one more bowl.
The #107 bus before seven was usually not crowded. I never enjoy being stuck either in a bus or in traffic. As a result, I will take the incredibly early ride to avoid the morning rush. Running across the platform from the one side of Admiralty MTR station to the other side heading towards the Chai Wan line, to me, is always phenomenal. The ability to put up with pressure is what Hong Kong people always makes me marvel.
Rarely would I spend time in bus or train to look at the passing sceneries; instead, I would let time and stations and traffic lights and passer-bys flee while I am flipping over the book in hands. This morning I had John Bunyan's The Pilgrim's Progress with me. A book written in the 16th Century loaded with strong puritan favors, The Pilgrim's Progress, I guess, may give me a little mental preparation for my passage to China.
Allegory is what this spiritual writer likes using, with a belief that the Bible itself is loaded with allegories. Using the illusionary context to portray realism is Bunyan's goal. Indeed, the book reminds me more of the old days when I was studying literature at college--the time I would scuba-dive myself occasionally into books written in the 16th or 17th century, a time slot that I don't particularly enjoy.
One side of my reading list now is very spiritual and literary; the other side very practical. Skippy sent me a list of books about leadership, books that I may need later on, who knows.
The whole morning I was in my office throwing away things--print-outs that will never be useful again; patty things accumulated for the past two years; pictures, postcards, salary statement slips, pamplets, used envelopes, credit card bills, application forms of various kinds--so many. The process of throwing away stuff is indeed quite relieving.
For the past few days, I received a couple of inquiries about the future life of this journal. Some people who come to read on a regular basis has developed this routine of coming and going. Journal I will keep writing for sure; whether I can upload them in where I am to be is another matter. My guess will be--I will update in an irregular basis. Not daily. Perhaps weekly, I will have a few pieces of writings posted on the hp. Of course, there's no guarantee. Yet, if you are to keep in touch with this silly silly little duck, jot down this email address: yulan_dora@yahoo.com
I took half day off to go to the Chinese Travel Agency to get my traveling document to China ready. Last time I was ever applying for such document was more than a decade ago. The little afternoon visit to the Agency gave me a very tip-of-tongue taste of the kind of atmosphere and people I will be encountering in the mainland. Of course, they won't be the same, but the sentiment is perhaps suggestive.
The guy sitting in the enquiry desk spoke like a machine. Without hearing what I asked for, he handed me the application form; without letting me to inquire, he told me to go to Desk #35. Obedient, I went to Desk #35 and started lining up there, only to find that it's the counter for Xeroxing identity card. Before coming to the agency, I have already prepared the copies, and therefore I had no need to line up for that. So I headed back to the machine and asked, "I have filled in the form, and where should I be handing this to?" As routine and automatic and monotony as he was, he repeated, "Desk #35." I reiterated that I had my ID card Xeroxed already. Finally, I got a clear direction.
Throughout the time, I could begin to sense the little impatient Dora in me in the agency.
I remember what the Chief Officer at World Vision told me in my second interview, "Dora, what you need most in this job is PATIENCE." Remembering this, I waited quite happily because I know it's time for me to really learn to submit to patience.
Do you have the experience that you are more patient with strangers on the street asking you the way, than answering the questions your mum or dad nags you? I know my impatience with mainlanders is a hindrance, and I need a lot of patience to understand my root and people again.
My Passage of China will mean something new to me--spiritually it's a new world. Personally, it's a search of a culture that's part of me while the other part of me in me is resisting that part of me. Confusing and conflicting.
Having thrown myself to Europe and America already, I finally have a chance to come back to the homeland. Home?
I will tell you the answer of it later.
Thursday: 04.18.02
"Left Right Left Right"
Grown up in a then colonial and now post-colonial era, I acquired a natural disrespect for the mother land. For the sake of something I still could not know what, we learned to come up with an "English" name. Are our Chinese names so horrendous to pronounce in English lessons? For years, students pride themselves with a BBC accent. The head girls who made school announcements during morning assemblies articulated with an accent totally in disharmony their complexion and ethnicity; yet they earned the round applause at least from teachers.
Since a little girl, I always aspired to go to the places flooded with blonde and blue-eyes.
In the past, I dated non-Asians for I was indeed a racist, who discriminated against guys with my cultural and ethnic backgrounds.
I preferred to grill steaks to fry beef slices, preferred to drink coke to Jasmine, preferred bread to rice, preferred fork to chopsticks, preferred to write read English literature to Chinese, preferred to learn English, French, Spanish, to Mandarin, I preferred to travel to America, to the Mainland.
And I still write more often in English to Chinese.
Shame on me.
Never have I thought of being totally immersed in the Chinese context, and dedicating my heart to a country that I thought I would not like. It took me more than two decades to gradually come back to the nation where I was rooted. And in a month, I will dive myself in.
"Left right, left right, left right," we commanded orderly, and marched in alignment when in Form One in the Saturday marching practice of Scout team.
Left right, left right, we bounced from left to right, and right to left again.
In the afternoon, I handed my resignation letter to my current boss, who's a little surprised that I'd resign so early. Yet, having heard my honest reason, he wished me all the best with my endeavors with the World Vision. Before meeting this boss, I got a phone call with my former boss, a good friend as well. I also let that boss know that I'd be leaving for China soon.
Two bosses gradually find out their staff, me, is a little wild.
For people who don't understand me well or who don't know my faith, my quick turn in life is a little, just a little wild.
But who cares. I never live to convince anyone of anything. I don't even need to convince mum about any action I am to take.
"Mum, I got a new job, and am moving to China," I told her on the phone [before applying for the job, I have also informed mum already.
"Oh, how much are you making in this new job?" I know I should not get frustrated with mum's response. Afterall, she's just a normal housewife and typical Chinese mother. Yet, honestly, I hate society that measures people with the salary scale.
"Less than what I am making now," I told her honestly. I could have lied to her to make her feel better. However, I don't want her to measure her daughter on this scale, so honestly and intentionally I let her know the truth.
"Okay, if that's what makes you happier, that's okay," she replied.
That's my mum. She's typical, who wants me to live comfortably, who wants me to be in better job, who wants me to make a lot of money; yet, she afterall wants me to be happy. I tried to explain what I am doing in the Mainland; yet, having grown up in the poor village in the SE coast of China, my mother did not really understand why she and dad tried so hard to smuggle themselves to Hong Kong some forty years ago for a better life and then her daughter wants to go backward to the poverty they'd once suffered.
Well, not poverty, mum. I get paid still.
My Australian buddy read in the news that mainland children who are staying in Hong Kong illegally are trying all means to prolong their stay in HK. He said to her wife over TV, "you know that silly girl, when everyone tries so hard to come to settle in Hong Kong, she moves to the Mainland. " Her wife replied, "Ha, all the people around you are a little nuts, I guess. Same species gets grouped together."
Without God, I perhaps will never take this journey.
Yet, all I want is a thankful heart to all I am having.
I went to the supermarket to get two sticks of lemon grass, three pieces of chicken thighs [unskinned and deboned], some cloves of garlic, fish sauce, and some basil. Chop the lemon grass to fine pieces, slice chicken thighs, mince the garlic, and mix them together with fish sauce for couple of hours. Marinate the chicken thoroughly. Heat up a wok, put in oil, and fry the marinated meat until they turn lighter. When the dish is about to be done, sprinkle them with chopped basil.
Fill in a bowl of rice.
That's the thing I want to do for you, patty as it is. I don't know how to weave a heart-breaking Hollywood romance like flying from Sleepless Seattle to New York to do something for you. All I know is a simple dish. No more left-over.
Wednesday: 04.17.02
Liang Miu *
I am happy to know you got this challenge job. This job will fulfill your interest and ideals. I really am proud of you. I am sure you can get a fantastic work experience and job satisfaction but you must take care of yourself when you are staying in China.
God bless you!!
Yee Kar Chee**
*Liang Miu: '靚'妹 is the nick my sister uses to address me
This is the message my sister left me in an e-card she sent me, congratulating me that I have got the offer from the World Vision. Having a sister as such, I felt so blessed. What surprises me is her last line--God Bless You. Seldom do I talk with her or share with her about my faith in God because I don't want my "preaching" will backfire; instead, I let her see the belief of mine through the action I take. That's what so special about Christianity. Life witness is fundamental because Christ reveals himself through us, Christian.
The second interview for the post with the WV was held this morning at 10a.m. My heart was ready, and I had the chance to meet with the Chief Operating Officer of WV (China office), who's originally from Taiwan. The 45-min conversation proved to be rather fruitful. I used my not-so-fluent Putonghua to reiterate my mission and dedication in this potential job. He's impressed by my writing indeed, the two questions I answered during the first interview, especially when I quoted in Matthew, it says whoever welcomes the most vulnerable is to welcome Christ.
I think that's the basic idea--it's God's love that urges me to go. As simple as it is. I do it for learning how to love.
Apart from being asked various aspects of myself, the Chief Officer also has given me two important aspects of WV's job.
First, we go there not for the sake of imposing what we hold on the people. Instead, we need to break down our stubbornness first, to listen to them, and then from within, we aim at transforming the people. By transformation, what WV cares most is the value of human beings, a concept being quite novel to Mainlanders. The way to accomplish this transformation, i.e. implanting a notion in their heart that human lives are valuable, is through life witness. They witness how WV's staff are behaving, working, contributing, learning. It's our vulnerability, as well, that helps this transformation take place. Therefore, the job is more "people-oriented" than "task-oriented"--we aim at teaching them to fish, not giving fish.
The other confusion I have is the role between the missionary notion and development work. What are their relationship? It comes down to the same notion as mentioned--we don't go to smuggle bibles or preach verbally. Those aren't what we do. We focus on doing community work, real work. It's the work we do manifest our Faith. So what we do is far more important than what we say.
Having known these two basic notions--we value people and we are life witness of Christ, I find myself even clearer about the organization that I am to work for.
Upon knowing the offer, I was not particularly excited. I am happy to be given this chance to serve; yet I notice that I don't want to romantize the whole idea of development work. More, I don't want to carry this "exotic" perspectives to view people in remote places of China. My anthropological training in my undergraduate years tells me how dangerous it is to carry this "exotic aesthetic" view point to look at people of a different cultural background. As what Edward Said said, it's purely a production of Orientalism, something that does more harm than good.
Right now, I don't know what kind of sentiment I should have when dealing with this challenging job indeed. All in my mind is--mission first; team second; and myself last. When facing ups and downs, all I want is to keep a THANKFUL heart. That's all I ask for.
Thanks God for listening to my prayers; for sending me a supportive family; for giving me love. It's this love that I choose to grasp tight.
Tuesday: 04.16.02
今天從早上八時半到晚上七時半馬拉松式的核對索引頁數感覺像不斷不斷不斷的對六合彩號碼人險被那些數字淹死希望從此與索引緣滅 Monday: 04.15.02
Founded in 1950 by Dr. Bob Pierce, who aspired to help orphaned children from the Korean War, World Vision has grown beyond children sponsorship into a wide-range of community-based projects including food, education, health care, and vocational training, supported by monthly contributions from donors. All began with a person--who believed solely in the mission to serve the needy.
The general office of World Vision (HK/China office) is located in a rather desolate region, Tai Kok Tsui, in Hong Kong. Unlike other job or scholarship interviews I have been through in the past, this interview gave me more peace than nervousness. Holding a Hong Kong road map, I thought I would just alight a taxi at Mong Kok KCR station to get to the WV office. Instead, I saw a green cap mini-bus at the station with the sign--To Tai Kok Tsui. With no hesitation, I went abroad it, as I knew I would have enough time even to get lost.
The result: I was half an hour early. Before proceeding, my heart was simply saying gently--God, please be with me.
The office was simple and pleasant, not too new nor too old; the first floor is the China office, where people working for the development projects in the Mainland work. The second floor is Hong Kong office, dealing with, I believe, mainly children sponsorships and Famine 30 sort of fund-raising activities. I first went up to the second floor because I wanted to get myself familiar with the surrounding. Awhile later, I rang the door bell of the lower floor. A woman came and asked if I was, Ms. Tsang. I nodded, thinking she's probably Flora, the woman who has been corresponding with me.
She was not indeed. Flora, who came a few minutes later, was a 30-something woman, acquires an extremely friendly and efficient demeanors. Flora, I believe, is the Human Resources Manager, herself having spent three years working in China as a project officer, the position I applied for. While I was waiting in the room, the first girl who answered the door bell, Ms.Li, brought me a form to fill in my personal particulars. One column it writes: Why do you want to apply for the job in the World Vision?
I gave my most honest reason: I want to learn how to let go of myself and serve the needy, i.e. Christ.
When I have that form filled, a laptop had been set up already. I was given a handout with four questions. Out of four, I had to answered two, one in English, one in Chinese.
The English one gave me no problem (you see how frequent I write, guys). As a matter of fact, I have indeed thought quite thoroughly why I should be there in the first place. So the first question was answered within half an hour, eloquently responded.
The second question wasn't really a problem either; yet, my snail-pace Chinese typing skill hindered me a little. The keyboard did not show the familiar Chinese strokes associated with the alphabets. Thus, I decided, first, to type on every alphabet and write down the Chinese stroke it's representing. With the self-generated stroke-convertible table, I typed slowly word by word. Still, I think I did a good job.
After one hour, Ms. Li came back, took my floppy disk, and asked me to wait.
The room in which I was waiting was incredibly chilly. With my short-sleeve shirt, I knew goose-pimples of mine were coming out, and I cuddled myself with my arms. After a quarter, Flora came with the printed version of the two questions I wrote upon earlier.
"Dora, never have I interviewed anyone who wrote like the way you did. You compiled two essays in an hour in such great detail," she chuckled.
I smiled. That's my typical Dora, whose hands once on a keyboard, can't really stop. She began, "You are very familiar with the core-values of our organization, aren't you? You did quite a lot of homework before coming, right? I really did, not for the sake of getting the job and impressing the interviewee though. I told her if I don't agree with the mission of World Vision, I simply won't be there today. She grinned, showing her affirmation.
Honestly, I think that's the basis in whatever decision one is to make--getting clear what one's mission is.
The next comment she gave was: "Dora, you're been believing in Christ for a little more than half a year, right?"
I nodded and said yes with a smiley face.
She continued, "Yet, you did not sound like you're. Honestly, I have been quite moved by how strong you hold your faith." I replied, "Flora, the one who brought me to Christ said once to me that I was a hard cookie, who'd be hard to convert; yet he knew once I was converted, I would be a real strong-faith person." Gradually, my body began to tremble a little, from both my little interview fear and the freezing air-conditioning.
At all times, Flora was keeping a very warm facial expression, and was extremely generous in showing her snowy teeth. I, in return, gave my most honest and truthful answers to all her questions.
The questions centered on all aspects that a project officer stationed in China had to face: leadership experience; ability both to work as a team and in solitude; adaptability; decision-making ability; endurance; work experience; emotion and problem-solving strength; personal aspirations--and most important one's faith.
This is one of the interviews that I truly enjoyed and felt at peace because all I did was being myself. I was not afraid of detailing them what my weaknesses were, letting them know more about my faith, inquiring them questions that I did not understand, and telling them truly that I would like to learn how to serve. I know it's better to be honest to them, so that they knew if I'd be suitable. If they figure out other candidates were better than me, I would rather another one get the job for the benefit of the communities WV is to serve.
A 3-hour-long interview ended at six. I felt light-hearted because I felt I have done what I should. Flora told me she'd like arrange another interview, hopefully, within this week; however, everything is dependent on the big boss.
Honestly, I do wish to get the job; yet, I know it's not what I want matters, it's God's will.
Will I be in Jiansu? Jinsu? or Ninxia? Or somewhere out there?
Where I am suitable, just drop me in. I have decided to let myself go: wherever, however long, whatever God wants me to work for. He's the potter; I am the clay.
Flora mentioned two things that I have not thought of before, but they're significant things: Children issues (child's abuse, physically, mentally and sexually) and the notion of Sustainable Development (to have the local staff trained so that they can keep the project going on even when World Vision has to leave the project site). The former is an idea that WV International hopes to introduce to China, a core mission that's formulating which will be suitable for the Chinese context. The next is what makes a good leader, and program--not aiming to grant the people fish, but teach them how to fish.
More things to learn about development project.
When I turned on my cellphone right after the interview, my sister called. She seems getting quite excited about this potental job as well. She knew she'd never up to working in the field; however, this sister always wants me to enjoy my work. Before coming back to the office to continue the extremely tedious indexing work, I had a bowl of "wonton" noodles, with my sister in Mong Kok. I headed back to my office to work; she went to play mahjong with her colleagues.
Each marches on each's path. Life will never be the same. Sunday: 04.14.02
The Twins near Stanley
Sometimes I do feel I am biologically tuned to be a backwaters village dweller--having the habit to wake up so early when the sun rises. At six, I voluntarily opened my eyes, although I have only slept for four hours. This stupid biological clock just won't change a bit; it has been ringing in my mind so punctually since I was a little girl.
While lingering in the interval between getting up and not being able to fall asleep again, I rang him. On the other side of the globe, he has waken up for not so long. Before I regained my full consciousness, I already shot him some questions regarding nuclear radiation--would I survive if a bomb were dropped in HK while I was inside the MTR station? His all-time nasty reply was--you would die in no time because the bomb would drop right above you. I continued, "How about radiation in microwave?" He replied, "Hm, radiation there is nothing; it's okay even if you put your head inside."
I told him I would like to write a story in which the world's ending, and people all died. Yet, there would be two left behind in an MTR station; and God just simply has forgotten two.
Not wiling to give up my stubborness, I asked one more question, "where would we be when we die, before the coming of Christ?"
He said, "Well, different Theologists say different things."
When it's near eight, I hanged the phone and rushed to take a shower before going to the Sunday service.
Interestingly, Reverend Hui was talking about exactly the same things I questioned in the morning.
During the sermon, Rev. Hui said, "Before the coming of Christ, people who died would be in paradise already. It is because it says in Luke when the man crucified next to Christ asked Christ to remember him, Christ replied, "I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise."
Therefore, going to paradise is done right after death, even before resurrection.
He, yet, added, "The final judgment though would come when Christ's back."
I find the most rewarding thing as a Christian is not about going to heaven; it's the hope, gratitude, joy in walking with Christ that makes life more meaningful.
God, I put my family to you; being the only one who's trusted you in my family, I wish you'd give me wisdom how to share this good news with them.
Before going to the worship, I opened the fridge in hope of finding something for breakfast. Amazed, I found so many fruits Mrs. Tsang has brought--4 Philippine mangoes; one plum; five oranges; a few apples; a bunch of bananas; some black grapes; some red grapes; some green grapes; some durian; a handful of baby mangoes; three rock-hard green pears; and one kiwi fruit. That's very typical of Mrs. Tsang, who, despite how much people in the family can eat, always stuffs the fridge's lower compartment with lots and lots of fruits. Having this nice mum, I should have taken her to "yum chai" after church, yet I self-centeredly went for hiking instead. Mum, next week, I promise, is yours.
Having got bored with the path from Wong Nai Chung to Tai Tam, I tried a new path this morning. When reaching Repulse Bay Gap from Wong Nai Chung, instead of taking either Violet Hill path or the footpath to Tai Tam, I turned right heading towards Stanley. In the past few times I arrived at the gap, I dared not taking that path when I saw the hundreds stairs all the way up the hill. In these days, I grow to realize that if I am determined to reach a goal, I would be able to make it.
There I first went down for about two hundred steps, and then arrived the starting point of THE TWINS [The Twins here is not the two nauseating teenagers' idols; The Twins, in this context, is the name of a mountain]. Biting my lip, I started to climb up, step by step. I counted one to a hundred, and then took a little break overlooking the surrounding hills. Although, I walked up some 950 steps.
That's what I like about hiking--setting myself small target and reaching it step by step. Like life: it's about setting little targets, reaching them; then setting bigger ones, and trying to achieve. Sometimes we make it to the hill-top; sometimes we change direction and generate a new goal because we realize something new and appealing when having arrived a certain destination. But it's the idea of a goal that keeps you going up.
Pearl-size drops of sweat flooded down my face hitting the floor. I bit my lips to go up and up.
When I was near to the top, I was waiting for a rest.
Only when I reached the top could I learn there's another hill top behind the one I have summited. No wonder, the mountain is called THE "TWINS." That's also what we find in life, isn't it? When I summit a certain climax, we will often encounter another climax that we're aspired to reach. There are people climbing for competing with others--people compare how much money they make; how high the corporate ladder they have reached; how many Mercedes or Ferraris they have; how many golf club memberships they hold. For some those kinds of competitive climbing is exciting. For me, I just climb for myself and I only compete with myself.
That's why I dislike hiking with a group of people. Going alone, I am free to set a target to reach, disregard what others are doing beside me.
Whenever I felt a little exhausted, I slowed down and sang a simple lyrics I learned this morning in church:
稱頌主榮名; 我心稱頌上主
These verses kept calming my soul and gave me strength to walk in difficulties. I believe in Christ because He's resurrected.
After the first twin, the second twin took me another 400 steps. Having finished all that, my legs trembled slightly when I tried to standstill; I, however, could already see Stanley from the mountain top--that itself gave me more motivation to run fast down the hill. All in my mind was--after I got to Stanley, I will reward myself with a big jar of icy drink.
I did finish this 3-hour walk, with my clothes totally soaked with sweats. Of course, I bought myself a One-liter bottle of freezing cold drink and drank like a fish while promenading in Stanley market.
While waiting for Number 73 bus home, I looked at the stand at the bus station detailing all the stops the bus would go past. One of them is called -- Eden View.
The view of Eden, I thought, sounds interesting.
After Edenview comes Stanley Prison. Eden and Prison, what a paradox? Sometimes I wonder what hell is like. I think the description of fire and worms is metaphorical more than physical; but the forever separation of God and human being is what makes hell so horrendous.
Once, I told Skippy, "Skippy, if I trust God for the sake of going to heaven, I would rather go to hell. If that's the center of God's message, this is just a very cheap gospel." Skippy said, "Dora, I guess the misery in hell is beyond our imagination. I have never been there; but if Christ would die for us so as to save us from going there, I think it's something really bad that He did not want us to experience at all."
Heaven and Hell. Eden and Prison?
Saturday: 04.13.02
Spiritual Journal
The more time I spend time on writing this journal, the more important it seems to me. The journal becomes more inclined to be for myself--just a record.
Perhaps, it's really the time to record regularly some daily routines, spiritual discoveries, ups and downs in a matter that's just for myself. A new time to march in a new way.
The morning started early, and Tolo harbor was as tranquil as usual. Sunbeams seeped between curtains and woke me up at about seven. I brushed away the curtains to get a glimpse into the early morning. Sitting awhile facing the sea, I realized that the breathtaking view of my balcony no longer glittered the kind of belongingness and attractiveness as usual. Perhaps in my heart, I am preparing myself for a new page, though I don't know if this page will ever be written.
There were still some compositions to be graded, for my former boss who's tutoring some fifth-formers. The composition topic was--describe your experience imagining that you're placed in a place in which people speak a tongue that you don't understand. Comparing to the very "argumentative" type of A-level writing topics, the Cert-level usually has something funny to write about. The students did write pretty eloquently. Most of them described their experience of being abroad. I, while marking the papers, kept asking myself what the experience really was.
At 17, I dipped myself in Jutland and lived myself with a Danish family. That was my first vivid experience of being placed in an outlandish arena in which I really could not understand what people around me were saying. Not a hint at all. In the first few months, I was with The Jensens, who lived in Furnerskovej, if not mistaken. They were not well-off. The only entertainment they had inside the house was a rather old TV set. Yet, this family permeated some closeness that I had not found elsewhere.
Every dinner, my host-dad, sister, brother and I would be sitting at the little dinning table inside the kitchen. They would talk only in Danish with I being totally lost.
Weeks later, I learned a few more vocabularies. Sometimes, over dinner, I could hear something like, "Kartofer [potatoes]... hjem [house] ... Dora [i.e. me] ... Tres [terrible].... Far [father] ... Nej [No] ... Hval [What?]...." I, from time to time, tried to make sense out of the broken words that I mustered at the table, but oftentimes they were like left-over--so choppy, and miserable.
To be precise, the first time I ever fell myself into well of living through a mysterious language was the time I was still a baby. I, however, had no memories what it was like.
Reading the compositions, I at the same time pondered what it'd be like were I placed in, say, Ninxia, in which people in rural areas don't speak Putonghua.
My life is always like that--pumping myself in places I don't know learning things from scratch.
Now a franatic reader of Nouwen, this morning, I was reading his journal "Gracias", the third journal of him I read after Genesee Diary and The Road to Daybreak. When being thrown to the unfamiliar Bolivia, Nouwen, originally a Dutch priest and later an American scholar and minister, wrote during his time at Bolivia, "Going to a different culture, in which I find myself again like a child, can become a true psychotherapeutic opportunity. Not everyone is in the position or has the support to such an opportunity.... This psychological perspectives on culture shock can open up for us a new understanding of God's grace and our vocation to live graceful lives.... I am convinced that, for Christians, culture shock can be an opportunity not only for psychological healing but also for conversion."
What I like sometimes to be in a totally novel place is the feeling of being child-like again. Having said that, I have to admit at times I do get tired of--the tedious process of picking up a language, familiarizing yourself with new customs, opening new bank account, adapting to a new diet, and even learning where to get milk, napkins, detergent, bus pass--adaptations both patty and significant.
But human being are adaptable, aren't we? [question tag is something I really dislike in the English language; silly dude uses it this time]
Refresh, I went to Chai Wan for my regular Saturday teaching. Not having seen this class for two weeks, they were as usual. The form three students were still quite "mind-traveling" at times; whereas the fourth-formers were attentive as usual. I was reading an article about canoes and kayaks with them. They seemed to have no slightest idea of what's happening around the world. Most of the time I found my students were far more attentive when I told them things happening or happened in this globe.
They were interested in knowing how comes the White people got themselves in Americas and other countries; I told them how they kicked away the "Indians" there [oh well, my very anthropological sentiments arouse]. When asking them the differences between the words--The United Kingdoms, Britain, England, Ireland, Wales, Scotland--I got them diving more into the religious struggles between The Anglicans and Catholics in N. Ireland. When detailing an article about shipping icebergs from Antarctica to Saudi Arabia, I got myself tangled in the political/cultural/religious bloodshed between the Israelis and the Palestinians.
That's what I think kids should be learning: not the bloodily boring grammatical rules nor sentence structures. They should be given chances to see more with their eyes about the world, knowing how this world is doing on a daily basis.
Too bad, our educational system never seems to care about that.
Am I asking too much from the educators?
Two days in a row, two Primary school teachers jumped to their death in the territories. I did not want to comment on whose responsibility it is; yet, I think life is really for us to treasure, not trepple on.
Most of the gangsters in Perspectives weren't available tonight, leaving only Bruno and I gone for dinner. I took him to a Japanese restaurant, Ajijima, located in Lee King Wan. This is a nice and cozy place, in which the food was excellent. Amid the delightful food, our conversations were extremely stimulating and appetizing.
Bruno, perhaps, is one of the lawyers I would consider as a good guy. He himself even said, "Dora, honestly, in the business, you don't find nice lawyers, that's just impossible."
I told him about the World Vision. His reaction was: You would really fit that kind of job. Honestly, most friends' reaction, upon knowing that this new idea of mine, was--that's for you indeed.
I chuckled, "Bruno, you'd be my boss in case I got hired by the organization." Bruno smiled. Bruno's adopted four kids from the World Vision and I know World Vision's funding was mainly generated by Children adoption program. In a way, he'd be paying people in WV to work.
For the past months, I have been asking myself over and over again the question--what is the vocation for me? And I know the toughest question in a spiritual journey is Discernment, discerning what's God's calling, and what's one's own ideas and aspirations.
I am not sure, really am not. But I guess discernment will be clearer when I march to find out. Time will tell.
Over a 3-hour dinner, we talked about job, goals, books, movies, faith, writing stories.
Talking about writing stories, there's a new idea of writing a story about people being trapped underground in an MTR station. That would be real fun, imagining a group of some-dozen people trapped underground, with limited food from Maxims' or drinks from Seven-Eleven.
Having a high-paid job and fulfilling a childhood aspiration to be a lawyer, Bruno uttered at times he did lose sight of what's doing. Sometimes I guess in life, constant reflections were needed so that one can orient oneself. Recently, I know it's time to stop tiptoeing in the little enclave without much growth.
God, would you be with me?
I don't dare to ask you to put my in anywhere. I only wish Your plan and kingdom will be done, in earth as it's in heaven.
While walking to the MTR station, Bruno asked, "Dora, have you ever thought that Christ was only a prophet, not the son of God; I mean, have you ever thought that the Jews might be right/"
Himself a Catholic, Bruno surprised me a little with the question.
My answer--my Faith did not really allow me to think that way. Frankly, faith is something I cannot explain. Even though you think it's a blind faith, I still hold my belief tight.
Bruno continued, "Do you ever wonder why Christ did not appear in today's world, or did something miraculous so that people would just believe strongly?"
Quiet a little while, I then said, "I guess God's made himself very obvious to us, it's just that people won't see it; isn't the world miraculous enough for us to notice there's a creator?" Continuously, I said, "If we determine what God should be doing, we're God ourselves."
Sometimes I really think God's been so obvious and revealing; however, one has to see with one's heart, not eyes.
We should see with our heart, not our eyes--that's the clue. 04.12.02
Sooner or later, I will have to write a book compiling all the doses of wisdom my friend told me.
There's a book called Tuesday with Morrie. Now, you want to get some preview of my book-to-be-one-day called Friday with Skippy: Life Lessons From An Ozzy Mate.
Sometimes, Skippy makes things sound like a piece of cake--no matter it's a life-and-death decision; a team training; a military operation.
I joked, "I want more cakes from you."
He replied, "You can bake whatever cakes you fancy, with all the ingredients I had already given you over these months." I chuckled, "All already?"
"Yes All," he said firmly.
Sometimes I wonder why God sends me what exactly I need alone the way.
This morning I wrote to Skippy, sharing with him my desire to work for the World Vision. He wrote back:
I am sure at times you will be down , disappointed and hurt because you wish you can do better or wish that those people you are helping be more mature, and that is ok to feel that. But never forget that it was "LOVE" that you chose to serve them. Instead of being frustrated, channel your energy into prayers and also into thinking how you can help them to help themselves better. I found that when ever i am frustrated that is usually the moment that i need to learn new lessons. There must be something in there that i can learn from.
He used to tell me that in the navy training, he's trained to think like this: Mission First; Team Second; Own self last.
And I know if I hold the mission clear--it's God's love that I choose to follow and it's love that I choose to give--I will be able to endure and face challenges in all ups and downs.
I still don't know if it's the "right" path; yet I believe with time the answer will be unfolded. Oh man, I sound like I am already working there, silly duck. Haha, I have not even passed the first interview.
On Perseverance
The first lesson he ever gave me was--don't quit things easily.
I did have a strong tendency to quit things half way through, at least, in the past:
I quitted scout team; changed my first major in translation; changed school; learned French, Spanish, Danish and stopped them all; learned cello and my cello's now deserted in my office; wanted to become a journalist but didn't.....
I opened a lots of boxes while I cannot wrap them up later.
Skippy said, "When you choose to start something, finish it."
As simple as this?!
On leadership
Skippy went on, "I would also like to share a little of my vision as a leader. I usually found that people will like you most if you always be the FIRST one to take action and the LAST one to give up."
It's easy to say--First to give; Last to leave. Yet I think people won't listen to you at all if you don't give your efforts and show them you really care. Enough from Skippy this time; I always have things I don't disagree with him as well. Today, only share some of the ideas that I think you readers may be able to resonate with.
On Fear
Who doesn't have fears indeed? I guess we all do. Whether we allow fears to paralyze us or use them to boost our strength to move on is our choice.
We don't have control over life; all we have though is how to view the situation we are in.
I still have fears. God, if it's not what you want from me, take this away. If it's, give me patience and faith.
Lunch
Today, as usual, I microwaved some rice, and had lunch with Guimui and Chor at the tea table in my room.
We brought each of us some food. Putting them together became a feast already.
We had rice, bbq pork, curry chicken, potatoes, steamed chicken, bakchoy, lettuce, some fish, luncheon meat, and sausage.
It sounded a lot; but each was of little share.
That's the fun of having great colleagues to work with. We each brought a little share, but all together was a feast.
Some people say you only meet good friends in secondary school or at college; I don't believe that.
A genuine heart to make friends matters, always.
In Fog
"Remember that me and the other perspectives buddies will support u no matter
what your decision is... I understand u may also have fears and doubts, and
when u do so, just share them with us and we'll be there for u!"
Fiona wrote in an email. My friends and buddies, you know, I sometimes don't know why I am so blessed to have you guys around me. For three years at college, it's the paper Pespectives that brought me all friends.
Same here, no matter what I do, and where I am, I will always be supporting you folks. Don't give up in believing that there's a special path for each of you to take. Don't lose sight of what you want. Dare to dream.
I always think that we are unique and special and gifted in our own way. It's not easy to find where we belong, but if you keep asking, you will find it.
When you lose sight of where you are going, stop and don't steer. Last year I read a book called How To Row a Little Boat. In which the writer says, "When you are in a foggy place with you boat, don't steer, don't attempt to urge for a direction. All you need is to put drop anchor, let the boat float and wait for hints to bring you a clear direction."
I find these words quite fruitful. Sometimes we are lost; when we are, don't try to push for a direction. All need to do is to be still and wait for a budding direction.
Only in peace and gentleness will you have a mind clear enough to notice a path. Perhaps the direction of wind, the coming of a bird, or the stars in the sky will give you ideas how to navigate; but all those hints will be recognized in quietness and patience.
The Fly
Last night, I was tutoring Janice, a Primary Five student. I was reading with her a poem called The Fly by William Blake.
Janice is very gifted with languages, and teaching her always teaches myself more. I hadn't notice how special this poem was until I was telling her.
The Fly
Little Fly
Am not I
For I dance
If thought is life
Then am I
-- William Blake
I particularly like the verses:
Am not I
At college, I read Blake's work The Book Of Urizen, and thought only of his very religious heaviness. This little verse--The Fly--is simple yet loaded to strong sentiments of life and death. In those days, I did not know why my teacher (by the way, the youngest and most charming one in the English Department at UBC; for that I took all courses he taught.. oh man) would like Blake so much.
Gradually I understand why.
Wondering where this charming fellow is right now? I guess somewhere in Manitoba writing his own verses and novels.
04.11.02
Dwelling in the well
Perhaps the somewhat mushy spring weather has made fox dwell in his well of despair again.
For a while, I have been being quite quiet, pulling off a bit from this friend because I realize one's own difficulties have to be resolved, ultimately, by oneself.
This morning, I woke up incredibly early at five; while laying in bed, I read about some words by Henri Nouwen and now share them with this friend in the forest:
When you experience the deep pain of loneliness, it is understandable that your thoughts go out to the person who was able to take that loneliness away, even if only for a moment. It is not easy to stay with your loneliness. The temptation is to nurse your pain or to escape into fantasies about people who will take it away. But when you can acknowledge your loneliness in a safe, contained place, you make your pain available for God's healing.
God does not want your loneliness; God wants to touch you in a way that permanently fulfils your deepest need. It is important that you dare to stay with your pain and allow it to be there. You have to own your loneliness and trust that it will not always be there. The pain you suffer now is meant to put you in touch with the place where you most need healing, your very heart. The person who was able to touch that place has revealed to you your pearl of great price.
It is understandable that everything you did, are doing, or plan to do seems completely meaningless compared with that pearl. That pearl is the experience of being fully loved. When you experience deep loneliness, you are willing to give up everything in exchange for healing. But no human being can heal that pain. Still, people will be sent to you to mediate God's healing, and they will be able to offer you the deep sense of belonging that you desire and that gives meaning to all you do.
Dare to stay with your pain, and trust in God's promise to you. I wish you would eventually find the strength in combating loneliness. Your friends, your family, or your memories can somehow give temporary dose of healing for a short while. Yet, ultimately the healer is from above. Be patient my friend and trust that God will help you.
Open my hand
Hebrews 10
This morning, these words from the Hebrews get imprinted in my mind. Slowly, I know He's working on me and asking me to let go of what I hold tight and patiently follow.
There is a sense of peace in seeing the new opportunity. I am not perfectly sure of the future, as no one will. Yet, the mission in mind--i.e. to trust my God and to serve the need--is becoming more obvious and stronger.
The road won't be easy, but I have confidence and perseverance to face challenges, provided that I hold my mission tight. It's been since quite a long time that I last had this kind of peace and strength.
Perhaps when I decide to follow that path, I really should open my hand and give Him my coin--graduate school plan, money, future (well, a "future" I think I am maneavering, which could just be a fantasy)--and really let Him transform me into whatever He plans, like potter and clay.
Joyce, my friend with World Vision in Guizhou said, "Dora, you don't have full certainly in everything especially when you begin. With time and when you walk on, you will find greater strength and confidence; but if you don't start, your fear will deplete your confidence completely."
I thank God for sending me great supporters alone the way.
This morning, this spiritual reading came to eyes spontaneously:
You will begin sensing when other people's experiences and ideas no longer match your own. You have to start trusting your unique vocation and allow it to grow deeper and stronger in you so it can blossom in your community.--The Inner Voice of Love, by Henri Nouwen.
Slowly, I need to open my hand and give my coin willingly and happily. You show me the way.
04.10.02
Mission
I lost some of my students' writings, and so I went home to get them. As well, I had Mrs. Tsang's meal at home.
Sister came in at seven-something and handed me a letter.
It's from Susan, a little sister in God's family.
To begin, she wrote, "It's been quite a while since I last felt sleepless; but last night I could not sleep. Thanks to you my sister, who came up with ideas so swiftly that I could not fall asleep when thinking of you."
Oftentimes, I sleep like a dead person. Sleeplessness is something quite alien to me. Yet, I never expect that a friend would be unable to fall asleep because she's concerned about me.
Sus, how should I treasure a friend like you?
Whenever I run into "puzzles," friends around me would try their best to listen and suggest ways for resolving my problems and decisions.
He remained silent when I told him about my idea of World Vision. He's the only one who would always be silent because he knows that with time I would come up with my own answer to my question.
I indeed appreciate his trust in me that I could handle it myself.
While taking the MTR with moew after work, we lamented, "Don't you feel that we have grown old in a year of time?"
We both think that the 25th year of our life is a time when we could hardly think and feel like a kid anymore.
Pretty late, eh?
I spent some time for these days to ponder upon why I would want to join the World Vision. All I need is a clear vision.
My answer is that if I have decided to live a life to serve God, learning to let go of myself and thinking for others instead is the thing I have to learn.
Really have a heart for others--is something I cannot learn at Graduate school or from any books. Only real action will allow me to learn truly to embrace others.
A real heart to serve is what I am seeking.
If it's God's will, I will accept.
At night, I called Joyce, who's working in Guizhou with WV. She said, "Dora, don't worry; afterall, it's God's choice, not the institute nor yours."
Now I just have to leave it to Him.
May I thank my dear sister Sus, as well as other friends, who often have sacrificed so many brain cells to think of this weird duck.
Not a kid anymore, I still make others worry about me so often. Sorry my friends.
When mission is clear; I think even mission impossible would be able to achieve.
04.09.02
Photo
The new background photo was taken by Fiona, when we were spending the afternoon in Shek O last Sunday.
The three people in the photo (me, bruno and momo) are of the same age, more or less.
The photo looks like a movie poster for some independent productions, of three people wondering what life would turn out to be, of three people begining to stop and search for a clearer vision.
During our tea time at Black Sheep Cafe, Fiona said, "I found myself wasting a year in the company and don't know why I should be there."
You know, sometimes in life, we need to be patient. No time is wasted as long as you hold your belief strongly that you're just seeking for something patiently.
Without waiting and pondering, we will never find out what we want, where we should be in, and whom we want to be with.
Not having bumped into the wrong paths and wrong people, we would never find out the right path and person.
This human society prides itself on pushing and rushing to achieve something quick; sometimes, yet, we neglect that "waiting" could be part of the moving action.
Waiting to be maturer to see where to go next, Fiona.
World Vision
The morning I decided to defer my graduate school plan, I sat in front of the PC and typed an application letter.
I had no idea if the institue needed any staff; all I did was to sell myself to them.
Quite gifted with languages, I could easily write an eloquent letter, if not flowery.
Within half an hour, I detailed vividly and confidently to the World Vision why I should join them to work in the Mainland as a project officer.
I have given myself time to spend longer in HK before going to graduate school, and I told myself: "Dora, you have to make the best use of time and chance."
Without a second thought, I mailed the letter.
Yesterday, the HR department called and wanted to know how strong my desire is. An interview has also been arranged.
Last night, when I thought it over, some part of me was saying, "Dora, aren't you crazy? Are you ready to let go of your current comfortable and quite well-paid job, your Tolo-harbor apartment, your closed family and friends, your convenient access to any means of telecommunications? You sure you can stand being in remote villages? Sure you can work with people who speak a dialect that you don't even know? Are you okay with the Gobi desert? Or the poorest province of Guangxi? Or The Muslim-dominated Ninxia? You sure you could stand all the difficulties? Eating something gross perhaps? Handling the emotional upheavals quite lonely in China and can't conveniently call your love one, nor don't even get access to the Internet?
More important, are you emotionally ready for it?
That's my biggest concern--biggest aspect of myself that I have to prepare for.
Some part of me voices, "Dora, take your time to think logically why on earth you want it and you will then make a clearer decision."
At this age, it's no longer the childlike guts that urge me, but I need a stronger goal for it.
And I know if it's purely my own guts, I would not sustain long.
Before taking the deep dive, I need to think carefully what on earth I want out of it.
It's too frightening a path to take. If it's not something for me, God, please take it away from me.
Don't be silly, Dora," I told myself.
All I need is a clear vision.
04.07.02
Black Sheep
Black Sheep at Shek O.
During the so-called Easter "holidays," I have hurried so many things that made the "holidays" seem like a month long.
Tutoring at the secondary school for five days, nine to five each day; wrapping up the research on Western China development; beginning to do the painful and tedious work of indexing; marking some 70 compositions for my former boss; teaching Janice once this week; attending evening class at church on Wed--were all I have been embracing in a week time.
April isn't the cruelest month. At least, there's a self-generated double-pay.
To reward myself, I skipped Sunday service (what an irrelevant excuse) today. Instead, I went jogging first in the morning. In the afternoon, together with Mr. Yu, Momo and Fiona, we went to Shek O.
Hard to believe that I have spent over two decades in Hong Kong, without stepping on this eastern tip of Hong Kong Island before.
Departed from Exchange Square bus terminal in Central, a place I often find unreasonably disturbing, number 309 bus snaked through the narrow road of Shek O road bringing us to a little imaginable paradise not-so-lost. Shek O sort of reminded me of Highway 99, where I used to drive gingerly along while humming little music during many weekends in Vancouver.
When I used to visit Lions Bay in North Vancouver via Highway 99, I would imagine myself being in southern Italy. The ocean, the narrow road, the houses--so full of Mediterranean sentiments.
Upon arriving Shek O, we settled ourselves, at first, at Black Sheep. It's a little restaurant, run by a few Caucasians, I suppose.
Shek O gave me a very strange deja-vu feeling. It's not like Lamma, so obviously flooded by holiday makers and westerners. It's not like Cheung Chau, so polluted by the out-break of suicidal epedemics. It's not like Sai Kung either, being too spare.
Shek O is a little old, tangling with a variety of styles. Some houses form little ghettos, resided by the lower class; some houses are outragously expensive, enveloped by the ocean greedily; some were painted in yellow lemon, mint-green or chestnut-brown, houses that remind you of Southern Europe. Nice cars were not kept in protective and guarded garages; instead, they were idly sitting along road paths permeating a feeling of Palo Alto in SF.
Shek O is not like anywhere; yet it's like everywhere. A mixture of many places.
Just a bizarre and relaxing escape in Hong Kong.
And a special thump up to:
The lemonade at Black Sheep.
I could swear that I have never had such a well-prepared lemonade in my life. It's fragrant with fresh mint, honey, lemon and a rich summer favor.
With that greenish icy drink in hand, sitting in patio of Black sheep, I just have to say--what a nice little break!
If he were here, I would take him to the Black Sheep because I know he'd like the lemonade there. He doesn't like plain water, and that lemonade, for sure, would be appreciated. In our table, we were four together: One a solicitor, one working in finance; one in a design corporation. Each of them has a little grudge about their respective work.
The more I hear about others and their lives, the stronger I understand that happiness indeed comes from within. A truly heartful happiness is not due to what your partner, your job, things that you grab in hand; instead, it's the heart within that really matters.
Life constantly asks us to reflect--reflecting on what the hell you indeed want and the path you're to march onwards.
At this moment, I think how nice it'd be to buy you a lemonade at Black sheep.
This Sunday was so simple, yet so amiable. Simplicity is always the best, I guess. The less I ask for my life; the ligther my heart is; and the more peace I find with myself.
04.07.02
School Cleaner
Today was the last day of my Easter holiday intensive tutorial class.
I took it rather easy and enjoyed the time. My favorite class is Form Two. Before lunch hours, the time when they had to go, we played a little card game called "African Show Hand."
Everyone had to pick a card (and should not see the card). Then we placed the card on our forehead respectively, only letting others see your card. As such, everyone had an idea what the others' cards were, but one's own.
Meanwhile, we came to reach a promise on what kind of punishment the one with the lowest point card should be given.
Punishments like: kissing the window; holding a litter bin to walk around the corridor; going to a find a stranger in the school to say "I love you."
After a compromis has been reached, we revealed our cards. The one with lowest points on the card would be punished, according to what's formerly agreed upon.
The excitement of the game was you never knew if you'd to the one being punished. You might think someone's getting a the low-point card; yet, you never know if yours would be the smallest.
In the last round, we put the card on our forehead. All my kids looked at me and said, "Now, we have to really find a good punishment."
Without doubt, I knew, "Oh man, these little devils are gonna punish me."
I got #2. >_<
The result: This English teacher of them had to take a broom, go down to the basketball court, and clean up the leaves there for five minutes.
Ha ha ha. Oh, you should see this teacher with a broom.
I had a lot of fun with these students though (more precisely, they had more fun with me). They all stood on the first floor, overlooking their "beloved" teacher clean the floor.
One student, Joyce, a chubby talkative girl, yelled, "Oh, there comes our new school cleaner, so young."
Hahaha, I kept laughing when brushing off the leaves.
Worse, one of the male teachers happened to walk by.
They yelled, "Wong sir, look at our teacher." I only laughed (I found it extremelly fun than embarrassing indeed).
Oh well, I have 10-inch-thick facial skin, and great ability to laugh at myself.
And next Sunday, we would go to BBQ at Shek O together.
The little devils yelled, "Great! BBQ next week. Ms. Tsang's treat!"
Kids really know how to rip their teacher off.
Fattie, you asked me once what I taught at the school?
Apart from English, I also taught "home economics" (you know now). The task of brushing away the leaves seemed menial; yet it's fun. Fun matters, as always. Humility and humors go hand in hand together. Unneccessary self-inflicted humiliation, however, bars one from enjoying great humors.
Beef Congee
I am no epicure. For three days straight, I had beef congee for lunch.
I guess I can go on with oatmeal breakfast and congee lunch for an even longer period of time.
Sunday
Slothful, I will skip church service tomorrow morning. I want to really sleep in. Pardon me, this lazy duck, Father.
04.06.02
For here or to go
She ordered,"Two pieces of love, no mayonnaise," and continued, "Toasted tender, plus a double care."
He, with a Kevin-Spacey-at-American-Beauty-kind-of cynical smile, replied,"For here or to go."
She uttered,"To go."
He acted on her pellucid directions without a split-second delay. Returned, he handed her a doggy bag with tender, love and care.
If there were a McLuvald restaurant that sells TLC, would there be a long line-up?
Relativity
We have all heard of the term Relativity, haven't we?
Yet, to many of us, the full theory of relativity seems recondite. It's absurd to hear a term for so long and many times without being about to grasp an understanding of it.
Life passes swiftly, leaving us with so many questions unanswered.
Form One student
When tutoring a class of Form One students, I eavesdropped one student saying something, while she's contemplating the plot of a story. The words--kissing, making love, and SM--oozed out from the mouth of this 12-year-old.
Suddenly, I felt that I was many generations behind those youngsters.
Am I really getting really so old?
Angkor Wat
I often wonder if Skippy would like to have a sojourn in Angkor Wat. Having spent his first decade of life in war-ridden Cambodia, he left the country and began a new life in Australia.
Europe or South America have gradually lost their appeals in me.
Escargot
Escargots are snails; snails are escargots.
A French word makes a nauseating dish sounds elegant.
Two Fat Ladies
There used to be a British cooking show starred by Two Fat Ladies.
When I was still at college, every night when I was tangling busily in kitchen, I would turn on the Canadian Food Channel no matter I was watching it or chopping onions.
Cooking used to give me lots of joy. Cooking was the time I would dash away, at least awhile, the ethnographies piling up in desk, the looming deadlines of essays, the never-ending reading materials from my Eng lit professors, those [I still consider] extremely brain-cell-killing literary criticisms and theories. Instead, I just focused on chopping, baking, mixing, tossing, and turning of food.
The Two Fat Ladies cooking show was shot in different little towns in the U.K. The kind of food that the hosts, indeed, never aroused my appetite [well, the Brits really make weird stuff like Haggis, blood budding, baked beans on toast, canned spaghetti].
Despite I did not think I'd like to try their dishes, I found it fun to see how they cooked, because they were so different from N. American cooking show hosts. The latters were often on the nerve when dealing with "not-so-health-conscious" ingredients.
The two fat ladies [they were indeed fat by the way] would use butter instead of margarine; would never use decaf; would use whole milk instead of 2 percent; would use pork fat to deep-fry things; would use intestines to stuff meat; would use the cholestrol-building inners like livers, kidneys, heart.
Whatever devilish food items, by devilish I mean what Americans would consider unhealthy, the Two Fat ladies would most likely use on their show.
I may have adopted the "healthier" style of North Americans... oh well, "healthy" to be defined.
Still, it's fun to see the two fat ladies to put a big bar of butter in a pan.
Jennifer, one of the ladies, died two years ago. Ended was the show as well.
04.05.02
His Road to Stanford
On the best-selling display shelf in a bookstore, I often see books titled like "The Road to Harvard," "Dreaming to MIT." They are books about Mainland or Taiwanese kids who made their way to those Ivy Leagues, books that teach parents how to train their kids to prepare them for gaining full scholarships to those institutes.
Some 25 years ago, Lamb got a full scholarship to Stanford.
At 10, his father passed away, leaving him behind together with 4 siblings and his mother, a newly widow.
He vowed that he'd excel. Everyday, after school at four, he would stay in the school library, took out a dictionary and Time magazine, and looked up words after words until ten at night, the time the school workers told him they'd to lock the school gate.
At early age, he have had all the political, cultural, religious, historical, economic issues from Time and more magazines and books seeping into his little brain.
Years later, his knowledge on world affairs is quite enterprising. When in Australia, Australian would marvel that he knew about their homeland better than they. In Canada, he talked about Quebec in a way that Canadians would just have to listen.
In Taiwan, taxi drivers were amazed that he could talk in great length about the politics of the former Formosa.
He spent couples years in Stanford, and returned to Hong Kong and began to teach. Articulate and expressive, he's aspired to be in since a little boy.
In 1992, I sneaked into his school, as an illegal student who did not pay the school fee, and sat their for his English lessons.
My friend said, "Dora, Dora, doesn't matter, just sit for a lesson and see if you like it."
My first impression of him was: "Oh man, this guy is unbearable [I like his passion in teaching; yet he's just a bit too arrogant, I thought at the time]."
I could not afford to pay the tuition, and my conscience did not allow me to sneak inside again. Ended my first lesson was.
A year later, I went into his school again.
This time, I boldly talked to him.
He friendly said, "Okay, if you can't pay, just be here, don't worry."
I then went once or twice a week. If I had money, I paid some. I had more, I paid more. I had less, I paid less. I had none, I paid none. He never asked and just said, "Just be there."
This year, my teacher and I have known each other for a decade already.
In today's afternoon, I went to his office for a little catch-up. He was talking with me like an old friend, as always has been.
Having talked a little while with me, he smiled and said, "Dora, interested in playing in this school again? [by playing, he means tutoring]." I laughed and said, "No playing anymore la... wanna learn more indeed." He chuckled, "That's right, teaching is learning as well." I smiled with no response.
Every time before I left, he would say with a bold smile, "Dora, you are rebellious."
Sometimes I am rebellious, when I think I should.
Linda Linda
Dinner with Linda. Happy moment at Dan Ryan. Potato skins with sour cream. Rib eye steak really kicked. All we shared, plus--a three-hour-long talk and laughter.
We have not met since last July. A good friend gives you the same familiarity and comfort after quite a period of separation. There's no problem to catch up with each other. Half a year proved to change us both greatly. Amazing how life unfolds itself.
04.04.02
訪友
昨晚，完了信仰班第一課，回宿舍途中，跟盈談電話。
『盈，我忽然間很想去訪許久不見的好友。』我說 。盈笑語: 『嘩!你的朋友分散各地，要探他們可要很多錢和時間呢!』
我嗯了一聲。
心中熟稔和想念的遠近皆有。
在貴州劍河為宣明會工作的雅; 在吉隆坡換骨髓後康復中的老友Juleen; 溫哥華的Kina和蘇菲亞; 丹麥老家的家人; 悉尼中的袋鼠一家人; 大板市中的Nahoko; 哈哈! 還有只是住在離家十五分鐘車程的Fanny。
還有，在羅省中的他。
待我唸完書後，弄個八十日還半球--暨訪老朋友--放浪遊。
P.S. 盈，今天給你放假，我用中文寫了，省你查生字的時間。近日發瘋般寫英文，因太愛英文了; 她也取代了蠕動著的蝸牛中文打字。 但持之以恆，你英文必有進步，等待與你用英文交談的日子; 鴨老師永遠支持你，如果我有孩子，你是我很放心交托看管孩子的Baby-sitter。
熱
穿上『雞翼袖』和涼鞋，束起及膊的頭髮，在三十多度的校園中滴汗，很想走到淺水灣的岸邊跑步和看日落。
娘娘腔
很怕娘娘腔或骨瘦如柴的男孩子。跟他們爬山，他們像快要中暑似的; 跟他們打球嗎，生怕他們閃避不到而昏厥過去; 他們說話吞吞吐吐，像古裝劇的春梅和秋月。 更佩服他們身邊的女朋友，如奶娘般揍仔。
或許要小說話了，但這陣子踫到許些沒有脊骨的義大利麵男孩，沒半點男子氣慨。 哈哈! 或許自己少了溫柔?
浪人浪人
身邊的人真的像浪，要湧進來便來，要捲走便走，只是在沙灘上留下隱約的浪紋。有些浪助你節節前進，更上一層; 有些在你不以為然是來個大湧浪，待你準備不了時便險些淹死。 有些浪只與你一起忽倏; 有些浪不住繾綣身旁。 要乘風破浪，還得要靠自己。浪要走時不好留; 還要點自尊和自省好。
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I do not think they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
Taken from THE LOVE SONG OF J. ALFRED PRUFROCK, BY T.S.ELLIOT.
The Hong Kong American Centre
At least twice time a day, some Caucasians, with a strong American accent, would knock on my door and asked, "Excuse me, do you know where the Hong Kong American Centre is?"
I would smiled broadly and said, "Just go straight and turn left, and it's right there."
I enjoy this little disturbance of the day because I miss their accent and tone. Careless and carefree.
Sometimes at the pantry, I would talk with one of the staff at the Centre, who would mix Jasmine tea leaves with some dried rose petals and lemon slices.
He's a Texan. I heard that Texans are rough and like everything to be big and big. They dream big; their cars are big; their actions are big and bold.
I don't know if I should believe that each state of America creates a distinctive kind of Americans.
Flow
Monday: 04.29.02
God will make a way, where there seems to be no way...
He works in ways we cannot see, He will make a way for me.
He will be my guide, hold me closely to His side.
With love and strength for each new day, He will make a way, He will make a way.
Sunday: 04.28.02
Saturday: 04.27.02
Friday: 04.26.02
不相信 請去問我哥哥森
以前 哥哥放風箏放得高興 我也只會看不會放
不相信 請去問我姐姐瑛
她知道我是會把小鳥放出樊籠的孩子
不相信 請去問我媽媽
我沒有媽般好客 人家要走 我總不會留
我從來沒有放線的心
風箏是我 不是別人
在那那不勒斯的天空上斷了線
我原來不怕線的牽引 只怕成了斷線的風箏 不懂回家
那幻象中的家 不懂回
捉不到的戀人的手放了線
我心蒼茫 蒼茫在天蒼蒼野茫茫的塞北上
風箏 還是別害人家擔心
自己上路好了
This isn't where we intended to be?
We had it all. You believe in me; I believe in you.
Certainty disappears.
What should we do to keep this dream to survive?
《敕勒歌》說﹕「敕勒川，陰山下；天似穹廬，籠蓋四野；天蒼蒼、野茫茫，風吹草低見牛羊。」
**Yee Kar Chee: stands for 二家姐
稱頌主榮名; 他復活我生命
On Mission
Thy summers play,
My thoughtless hand
Has brush'd away.
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
And drink and sing
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
And strength and breath;
And the want
of thought is death;
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
35 So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded.
36 You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.
Quoting a few stanzas of a poem for you as Children's Day gift, Fattie.
I have heard the mermaid singing, each to each.
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
By the sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
12:45 / 04.03.02