Laughter was coming from in front of me, while walking on Nathan road near Andrew’s church this afternoon. It seemed to be coming from two persons walking just a few steps ahead of me. They appeared to be an Indonesian domestic helper with her right arm hooked around the left of an elderly woman, perhaps her mistress.
That sight in itself is not uncommon. What was unusual was the hearty laughter. Sustained hearty is not common on the sidewalks of Hong Kong. That it happens between a domestic helper and her mistress makes it even less common.
I could not quite hear what was said. All I could make out was something like this:
“…, hahaha, …
“Hahaha … hahaha …
…
What seems obviously is that they are close and enjoy each other’s company. Some families may even be envious of the relationship that they share. Let us pray that this becomes the norm rather than the exception.
Our good friend P took us to All Saints Cathedral in Mongkok for a Easter Concert last evening. Singers, musicians and dancers performed The Easter Oratorio by J. S. Bach.It was a thoughtful and delightful event.It focused on the reactions to the event from four people: Jesus’s mother Mary, Mary Magdaline, Peter and John.
The emotions ranged from agony, sadness, bewilderment, to joy and praise. A very touching reminder of what Jesus’ death and resurrection means. Even for someone with so little training in music as me, it is very moving. Music communicates without words.
The church in Mongkok was built in 1928, making it 96 years old. It is a Grade III historical building. Its layout reminds me of the chapel at my old secondary school.
Thank you, P, for an enjoyable and meaningful evening.
When we came out of the concert, rain was pouring. Fortunately, the rain slowed after a while, allowing us to go home without too much hassle. That made for another memorable evening.
I was sitting at one of my favourite spots on campus, a picnic table on the podium level near our office, facing a row of trees.I was minding my own business - reading and listening to some of the birds in the trees.
Out of the blue, something crashed on my head. Before I realised what happened, and worry about the damage to my head, that “thing” flew across and landed on a concrete bench opposite. It then strutted back and forth for a while before flying off.
It looks like a black-collared starling (黑領椋鳥, 黑脖八哥), quite common around Hong Kong. I have often seen them on campus. But why did it attack me? Perhaps I was sitting in the place that it felt was its?
At first, I was a bit worried about my head, having had that bad fall 2 months ago, which left a big scar on my forehead. I have been wearing a cap on my head since, more for psychological comfort than physical protection. This morning, I left it in the office. And this bird attacked me! Fortunately, my head seems fine.
This is one of the weirdest experiences I had on campus.
I learned a new word from watching “Jafar Panahi’s Taxi”, also known as “Taxi Teheran”.It is an 2015 Iranian movie, directed by Jafar Panahi. The film won the Golden Bear at the 65th Berlin International Film Festival.
In the movie, Panahi drives a taxi around Teheran, picking up passengers and listening to their stories. It touches on a wide range of issues: capital punishment, pirated videos of foreign films, movie making, stealing, will and inheritance, superstitious women, human rights, …
One of his passengers was Panahi’s niece, who was learning to make movies. One of the rules imposed by her teacher was to avoid “siahnamayi” - literally “portraying in black” (抹黑) - about the country.
Another passenger was Nasrin Sotoudah, a human rights lawyer, who was on the way to visit Ghoncheh Ghavami, who was in prison for protesting for equal access to sporting events in Iran. Sotoudah was imprisoned herself.
The movie itself was accused of committing siahnamayi. Perhaps inevitably.
It is now two months since my Fall, which left a big scar on my forehead.Some aches remain in various parts of my body, but otherwise I am walking and running, and going to work like before the Fall.I am grateful for the recovery.
I am also grateful for:
the man who passed me a bunch of tissue to stop the bleeding on my forehead,
the person who called for an ambulance,
the person who took my hand and helped me to sit up,
the lady who collected my eye glasses and my phone,
Dr. H, who called my wife for me,
my boss G, who went with me to the emergency room in the ambulance,
the medics who stabilised me in the ambulance,
the ambulance driver who took me to the hospital,
my wife, who met me at the hospital and have done so much to take care of me from that point on,
the medical staff who scanned my head and wrist,
the doctor at the emergency room who got me admitted to neurosurgery,
the doctor who sewed up my head wound,
the nurse at the neurosurgery who took care of me that evening,
my colleagues who came to visit me at the hospital,
my friend P who brought me cha siu for lunch,
my friend G who brought me a croissant for dinner,
my family who cheered me up in the family video call,
the doctors and nurses at University Health Service who cleaned and looked after my wound,
Prof. C who gave me scar-removal patches,
the nurse who removed my stitches,
the doctor who examined me in the follow-up,
the many relatives and friends who sent well wishes,
the many friends who recommended medicinal food to help with the healing,
the functioning public health system that saved me,
… and so many kind people whom I have met along the way,
ultimately, my wife who has been by my side all the time, through everything.
It is our family clan’s tradition to pay our respects to my paternal grandparents at the Chinese Cemetery at Aberdeen. During the pandemic years it was difficult to gather.This year we had 10 people.All from my generation - cousins.Some of my father’s generation have passed away, others have emigrated, while the 4 that remain in HK can no longer climb the steep stairs or the slope to get to the columbarium.I am quite glad I can catch up with my cousins what is happening with our children.
Today there are lots of people at the cemetery, although not as many as at het height before the pandemic. Many still climb the 100 dangerously steep and narrow steps. I took the slope.
Many burn the traditional incenses and candles.
Many also burn paper money, clothes, shoes, mobile phones and gadgets, …, and dim sum.
In the past, we would eat much of the real food: roasted pork, real dim sum, oranges, bananas, etc., right there at the end of the ceremony. Nowadays we split the food to take home.
Afterwards, as is my own custom, I pay respects at the grave of Tsai Yuan Pei, respected president of Peking University during the days of the May 4th Movement of 1919.
It seems only rich or famous people have graves in Hong Kong. The rest of us can only get cremated, with ashes stored at the columbarium. In my opinion, the best thing to do is what my father asked for, and received: to get his ashes dropped into the open sea south of Aberdeen, where he used to work (on boats), when he was young.
I was taking a brisk walk on the Tsim Sha Tsui waterfront outside the Art Museum towards Hung Hom on a busy Sunday morning a week ago, through a big crowd of tourists mostly from the Mainland.Suddenly, a big, young white man ran past me, going in the same direction, but much faster than I was.I thought to myself: Even when I was in my 20s, I couldn’t run as fast as he was.But, will he be able to run this fast, when he is my age now?
Just seconds later, he turned around, and ran past me again, this time in the opposite direction. What was he doing? Perhaps he was running towards Regent Hotel, and he realised he was in the wrong way. I turned to see whether he was indeed running towards Regent. Just in time to see the big man bend down to pick up a piece of plastic, perhaps a bag that used to hold some potato chips, using his hand. He looked around, perhaps for a trash can. There did not seem to be one nearby. What would he do now?
He turned again, and continued running towards Hung Hom, holding the plastic bag in his hand.
I was quite surprised. Stunned even. Did he really care about the environment enough to do that? I know I wouldn’t. Not with my bare hands, when I have no idea how clean (unclean) that piece of trash may be.
In a crowd of hundreds of Chinese, from Hong Kong and Mainland China, it is the lone white man who care enough to pick up that piece of trash from the ground. We have a long way to go yet, in terms of care for the environment. Even though we are so proud of our so called 5,000 years of civilisation.
