Shades of Zionists

The Israeli - Palestinian conflict had been simmering for a long time. Then it exploded on October 7 last year.  Even in Hong Kong, where there are few Israelis and probably even fewer Palestinians, it is a hot topic, at least among Christians.  We have been discussing this topic at our Spring Book Club, as well as my Bible Study group at the university.  One of the difficulties often encountered is the confusion of terms.  For example, people who are critical of critical of actions by the state of Israel are often accused of anti-Semitism.  Is it a fair description?  To clarify some of the terminology, I tried to make some diagrams, which many of my friends find useful.

Let us start with Zionism, or Zionists.  Zionists generally means Jews who claim Palestine as their homeland.  Zionists tend to be Jews; there are probably very few non-Jews who are Zionists.  On the other hand, not all Jews are Zionists; some do not care, other may prefer to stay and assimilate into some other country.  One may be favourable towards Jews but against Zionism.  

This is particularly important with a more extreme form of Zionism called Neo-Zionism.  These are generally Zionists who believe that Palestine belong to the Jews only.  That the state of Israel should occupy all of Palestine and there is no room in the state of Israel for Arabs or Palestinians.  Some are advocating the removal of Arabs and Palestinians from Palestine.  Obviously, one may be favourable towards Jews, and even the establishment of a Jewish state, but be against Neo-Zionism.  That is not anti-Semitism, which normally mean hostility towards Jews as a people.  

There are plenty of Christians favourable to Zionism. Often because of the belief that the establishment of the state of Israel is associated with the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.  These are often referred to as Christian Zionists.  They are Christians.  But very few of them are ethnic Jews.  Generally very few Jews are Christians, who believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and Saviour.  

But there remains many Christians who do not believe in Zionism.  At least not Neo-Zionism.  Another diagram will address the different people who are favourable towards Jews, Zionism, Palestinians, Hamas, …

Another Fall - this one Witnessed

It cannot simply be a coincidence.  Two and half months after my own fall, cracking open my forehead, there is another fall.  Except that this time I am on the other side.  Someone falls in front of me, cracking open her head, but not nearly as bad as mine.  This time, I am able to offer some assistance, because of my own experience.  

A fuller version of the incident.  This afternoon I was having lunch on campus with some colleagues.  We were taking our lunch break, in the middle of a course for secondary school teachers on teaching service-learning.  I was just beginning to tuck into my plate of piping hot lasagna, when someone fell forward to the right of our table.  It turned out to be a female student who tripped or slipped on a low ledge, and fell face down on the floor, right between our table and another on the other side.  

At first, I didn’t think there was serious damage.  As the student struggled to get up, I saw blood drops on the floor.  When she turned around, there was blood on her forehead, partly covered by her hair.  I helped her sit up.  I passed her a stack of clean napkins to put on her forehead, to stop the bleeding.  She seemed stunned and scared.  I put my arm around her shoulder and pat her on her back lightly, to calm her down.  The restaurant staff called for an ambulance.  One of my colleagues went to check whether she could get help from University Health Service, which was just around the corner (they were closed).  My other colleagues were also offering help. I told the girl’s friend to take her glasses and her phone.  I also told the girl help was on the way and she would be OK.  Gradually she calmed down.  

After a while a restaurant staff came with an emergency kit.  The staff took over care of the wound on the forehead, and helped her to recline a bit.  I took the opportunity to examine her face.  She had some blood on her face and chin, but no obvious wound.  The blood probably came from her forehead.  Soon medics arrived and took over.  They checked on her, removed the blood-soaked napkins and wiped her forehead.  It was then that I could see the wound was about 2 cm long.  Then medics put her head in bandages, and took her away. She seemed to be smiling by then.  

After the commotion, I went on to finish my lasagna, which had gotten cold by then.  But I didn’t mind it too much.  I trust that the girl is OK and will make a full recovery.

I believe there was reason and purpose behind my own fall.  But I wouldn’t have imagined that, so soon after, I would witness someone else’s fall.  On the other hand, if I had not had my own fall, I would probably be in a very different state of mind when that girl fell, and I might not have been able to offer the help that I did.  

God indeed works in mysterious ways. 

Maid and mistress

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. 

Bach Easter at All Saints

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. 

Assault on Campus

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. 

 

Siahnamayi (抹黑)

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. 

Such courageous people!  Salute!

Grateful

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. 

All of you are my angels!

 

Ching Ming Festival, after the pandemic

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.