Celebrations

There was a beautiful, joyous mood in the air. The nurses, volunteers and doctors gathered and clapped their hands as they sang "Happy Birthday" to all those who had gathered at the lounge. There were two elderly people in their beds, and a couple of other patients in wheelchairs, and a dozen relatives and friends there. The Happy Birthday song is often sung to the elderly and infirm. We believe everyday can be your birthday, every day can be a special and happy day, and not just your real birth-day.

There was plenty of fresh fruits-- sweet and sour mangoes, kiwis, grapes and apples, as well as bundles of steamed rice dumplings wrapped with lotus leaves. A volunteer played harmonica tunes of Taiwanese folksongs and even "On top of the world" by the Carpenters. Later when I read the lyrics again, I realised how meaningful they were:

Everything I want the world to be
Is now coming true especially for me
And the reason is clear
It's because you are here
You're the nearest thing to heaven that I've seen

I'm on the top of the world looking down on creation
And the only explanation I can find
Is the love that I've found ever since
you've been around
Your love's put me at the top of the world 

The celebrations were part of the Dragon Boat Festival, which is tomorrow (the fifth day of the fifth month in the Lunar Calendar). I sat in the lounge with all these relatives and patients, nurses and doctors, and I clapped along when patients grabbed the microphone and sang their joy out. Mum was too tired, too sleepy to come out. Since she became very ill, she has been avoiding crowds. A few times during the morning when the nurse and volunteers excitedly came to invite to the party, she seemed very tempted. But in the end, she did not want to. It was disappointing, for she has not left her room for over a week, and not left her bed for almost as long. I went to the lounge  and only stayed for a little while before I headed back to the room to join her.

Even in her room, we could hear the live piano recitals and karaoke. I took mum's hand, and mouthed some of the songs, one of which is a Taiwanese song called "Holding my hand".

"Hold my hand, drenching in the rain,
Hold my hand, following your footsteps,
Hold your hand, walking our path,
Hold your hand, unafraid of difficulties..."

Just as mum was about to fall asleep again, there was a knock at the door. A man in a long white robe
came in with another doctor we had not seen before. It was the director the ward. In both their hands they had plates of fruits and rice dumplings, and even a decorative pouch filled with scented herbs as a gift. "Happy every day," the director said to mum. She smiled and smiled so much and was so touched by the personal visit and the food and gift they brought.

"I am so lucky to be here..." she said.

So the Dragon Boat Festival is upon us. But aside from the celebrations, there is a sinister side that to the festival that has not escaped my mind...

Mother's Day

Mother's Day today. I spoke to mum just now. "Happy Mother's Day," I wished her as she picked up the phone. We only spoke briefly, as she said she was tired. It was very warm last night, and she did not sleep all that well, and she got up early in the morning to go out for a little walk around the sports park. The painkiller she took also made her drowsy, so she was just lying down for a rest. The carer just finished massaging her sore bones, so she was ready, and sounded ready, to close her eyes.


I could see her with my eyes closed, lying there, in the bed that I made for her a little over a week ago. I hope she still finds the bed, now with the special foam mattress on top, comfortable. Many times when she was not around, I would lie on the bed and close my eyes and imagine that positive and healing energies would pass from my body onto the bed. I fantasises that these energies would stay on the bed and 'bless' mum whenever she lies down, whether to rest, whether to nap or to sleep. I fantasised that she would feel less pain and her body would be more comfortable. How I do wish it were really so!

When I spoke to her yesterday, she said to me she was touched. "I have two children who are both filial. I have nothing to regret about..." She described how brother has been very caring and doing many things for her. He bought her a wheelchair to take her out for walks, he installed supports in the bathroom so mum can hold onto to something, especially as she is now weaker and more prone to falling. And he went to visit mum's friend, whose husband is a Taoist priest, and to whom mum has entrusted to take care of the "after-affairs". "We still have time, so I have to consider finding a place before ..." mum told me.

It has been a long time since she last talked about this. I know we have had this conversation many times before, and before it never really bothered me (though it is always emotional to talk about...). But when mum mentioned it today, I was moved to tears. I was again reminded of the reality of her condition, reminded how close she was just a month or so ago, and perhaps still is, to the end of her journey...

It should not scare me. It should not bother me. But when I talk about it, when I think about, I become moist in my eyes and have difficulty expressing myself. Since my return here a few days ago, I have more or less been burying myself under books and the blanket to overcome my jetlag. So I have had little time to think about or expose my emotions. And I do feel, I can sense that there are raw, painful feelings that are threatening to erupt, and that will erupt soon, somehow...

"I have asked [brother] to go pick up my will. I want to make some changes..." I remember going to the courthouse over a year ago and having it notarised, and how we together walked to the basement of the bank where she has rented a deposit box. I remember placing the will inside the box and thinking to myself that one day when I open it again, circumstances will be different... Now mum cannot even go down to the basement herself because she has difficulty in moving, because just a few steps can cause her body so much pain and discomfort.

It is hard to imagine... So hard to see screensaver pictures that flash across my idle computer to see pictures of mum and I traveling through the Rockies. I know, we had our time, and we lived those times together, we enjoyed those intimate moments together beautifully. I know, I should be grateful we had those moments and that we have those memories to think back to... But it hurts me to just think and know that mum can probably not go out and go so far again like she used to... And if it hurts me, how does it make mum feel, to be 'trapped' in a body that is declining and much of which is no longer hers to control? "The will is there, but the physical strength is not... (力不從心)" she told me several times when I try to walk with her just a short distance. Mum has become so weak... so very weak.

"Happy Mother's Day..." I said again, "You have to eat well, and  go out to exercise! This way, you can regain your strength again!" I say that to her often these days, and I repeated it again today. Do I believe what I say, because sometimes I catch a glimpse of cynicism and dark brooding thoughts as those words escape my mouth. Sometimes I feel like I am lying to her, lying to myself. But I truly do wish she could feel better, I truly do wish she can get back on her own feet again and walk around like she used to because she lost so much weight...

Because she has been a wonderful mother, who has given me, given us so much, who has made sacrifices  and toiled for so long. And it pains me, pains me so deeply, so powerfully, to see that when she has the time and the means to enjoy life and all the wonderful, beautiful things that this world has to offer, she has lost her health, her body...


Happy Mother's Day,  my dear, dear mother. May you be happy and at ease, today and everyday.



 --
I made a little donation on behalf of mum today, to World Vision, a charity that she supports. She does not know it, but it was for a "Pre/postnatal Care for Mother and Child", which is a very appropiate 'gift' in her name. And for a limited time, my donation is matched by a generous donor, so it will be double the impact! 

Operation Mumories

When I was at the temple today, I saw a portrait of a middle aged lady at the front of an altar. In front of the portrait was an urn, and before the urn was a great offering of food and fruits and paper money.

Momentarily, my eyes played tricks on me and I thought I saw mum in the portrait. When is it my turn to stand there again and hold an incense stick and bow before mum's portrait? How will I be feeling? Who will be with me to comfort me? How grim the thoughts....! but death has been on my mind a lot these days, perhaps too much!

The idea crossed my mind before, and I have at times imagined it, thought about it, and let my imagination run wild as I daydream about it... "It" being mum's final farewell.

I don't want it to be a sad and solemn affair. I want it to be a celebration of mum's life, with pictures and sounds and songs. My brother's mother-in-law and her sisters and I got talking. They know of this lady who passed away (also cancer...) and her funeral was not at all sad. It was very touching, very beautiful and dignified. The children hosted the event, instead of having a ceremony master who did all the talking using a very impersonal and scripted speech (as was the case with my dad...). The lady's funeral was the kind of farewell I have been dreaming of!

I know I can do a good job and put together a very touching "show". I did it with my brother's wedding, and recently I put together a bunch of pictures in a scrapbook to celebrate my ex's life and our relationship together. I know they both touched people, and I hope I can also do the same with mum's memories.

But will people be receptive to it my idea? The lady who passed away actually worked on the project herself with her children, for towards the end she came to embrace death and also knew when it was time she wanted to "go" beautifully and memorably. Would mum be as welcoming of the idea? I am afraid if I mention something like this she may get the wrong idea that I'm plotting her death and planning for her funeral already.

And I'm not sure whether brother and others who have been important in mum's life will warm up to an "unconventional" send off, for I need their support and input if I am going to pull this "show" off.

Just because I like the idea, just because I see my own funeral as a last(ing) opportunity to touch people's hearts and to inspire people with, does not mean everyone else shares that open-mindedness to death and dying...

For now, this idea is still a work in progress I label "Operation Mumories" (yes, there are many operations ongoing, and I seem to be coming up with them to give myself something to do and something to distract from everything else...) . It will be an attempt to capture mum's life and experiences, mum's sacrifices and devotion, mum's love and care and remind people of who she is and why we care and love her.

Whether this crazy idea will one day become realised remains yet to be seen...

October 10

I was invited to a posh gala lunch today, and I didn't have to go very far. The hotel it was held in was five doors from where I work, so I put on a tie (hate ties!!) and a suit-jacket, and walked down the street.

I really don't like posh events, but it was really impressive to see, and it's not everyday that you get invited to go inside the most exclusive hotel in The Hague, where VIPs like (Bill) Clinton (when he was president still!) stayed.


The occasion was the 96th National Day of Taiwan (officially known as Republic of China, which I personally think is hideous and should never be used. The history and reason behind it is complicated, so Wikipedia can probably tell it better, or at least more neutrally...), and the event was held by Taiwan's de facto embassy here in The Netherlands. So the 'ambassador' was there, as well as representatives of lots of businesses, industries, as well as a number of Dutch parliamentarians.

The 'ambassador' (technically he's not, because Taiwan and the Netherlands don't have official diplomatic relations...) gave a speech. It was the usual kind of 'prep talk', praising the economic and political achievements that Taiwan has made in recent years, and praising the good friendship between Taiwan and the Netherlands. Primarily in the IT sector, since Taiwan produces the vast majority of LCD screens, but also huge in the horticulture industry, since together both countries cultivate the most orchids in the world. Of course, the 'ambassador' touched briefly on the topic of China, which plays a big role in why almost no country in the world dares to establish official relations with Taiwan, and why Taiwan is the only state not in the United Nations (even though it has a more efficient and democratic government, a prosperous economy and even though the people enjoy greater freedoms than much of the rest of the world...). The President himself was there... if only for a splitting second on tourism promotional video that was playing in the background on a huge 50inch flatscreen. Probably 'Made in Taiwan' too.



Then came one Dutch parliamentarian, who made a speech about how democracies should unite, and about how ridiculous China is abusing its power in the UN. He talked about that incident in the ECOSOC a few months ago ( I wrote about this too!) when China wanted to throw out pro-democracy NGO Liberal International just because the organisation advocated Taiwan's membership in the World Health Organisation. There was a silent boo in the hall. He assured everyone in the room that Taiwan has many friends in the Netherlands, including even the Foreign Minister who himself has many times supported pro-Taiwan measures in parliament, and he said that the Netherlands does care for countries and people who are free and democratic... unlike certain countries. Applause. Of course, the message could be even more effective if the Foreign Minister himself were present.

But I did see other important people... policy makers, university intellectuals (even my previous International Relations lecturer and respected foreign policy expert), and also some representatives from other embassies. In order not to create a diplomatic row, other embassies of course couldn't send anyone too 'important' to attend today's event. China's eyes and ears reach far and wide.


The food was just exquisite. In all my 23 years of eating and drinking, I've yet to come across such variety and delicacies as today! Just the main dish, there were half a dozen types of veal, fish, poultry and vegetarian dishes to choose from... not to mention the dozens of starters, salads, and other warm and cold platters, all neatly arranged before beautiful flower arrangements. The champagne and drinks kept on coming throughout the whole affair. And then there were the deserts...

chocolate ice-cream cake, hazelnut ice-cream cake, fresh raspberry tart, passion-fruit tart, even fresh tropical fruits I've not tasted in ages especially flown in from Taiwan, displayed enticingly next to hot-from-the-oven creme boulet, and plate after plate of delicious pies that are sure to give you a sugar high!

How did I, a humble (read poor) student/young professional end up there? Pure coincidence. When my mum was here, she revisited an old friend of hers, and it was this 'auntie' who suggested that I meet her outside the hotel and just 'tag along'. So for the better part of the gala, I 'tagged along', like a shy little puppy so unwillingly shown off to the world, as we woo-ed the room full of guests. The 'auntie' introduced me to one person to another, all old(er) and sophisticated members of the Taiwanese community. She was surprisingly proud of me, telling people how young I was, how talented I was (not), and how I completed my degree so quickly, and how I have such a well-respected and well-paying position at the university (...absolutely not). Embarrassing. Painful.

It's been such a long time since I last mingled with the Taiwanese community here. It seems like such a small world, where everyone knows each other, and where gossip travels even faster. Perhaps the last time I went to an event like this was more than ten years ago... and to be honest I don't really miss it. So to see all these strange faces and people I cannot even remember their names or what they do was overwhelming. But I just smiled, something I do so particularly well, and fiddled with my glass of champagne, while at the same time feeling the bubbles rush through and 'drunk' my head.


I went to get some food, and to my surprise I met someone. One look at her, and I thought I had met her before, but didn't dare to approach yet. I 'stalked' her a bit, and realised it was the very person I was thinking of, so went up to her.

Turns out, it was a classmate of mine who I've not seen for over five years! Funny. We talked, exchanged and compared notes, and realised that we've both travelled the world (a bit), but eventually still ended up studying at the same university (though at different faculties). She happens to be at the event in her capacity as the head of this society that is orientated towards international relations, and so she gets invited to these kinds of events a lot.

At the end of it all, I got my bag of free goodies, which contained all sorts of promotional materials, DVDs and CDs from Taiwan. I looked at the beautiful pictures of the lush high mountains and the deep blue sea with swimming with dolphins, and lost myself temporarily in scenes of exotic plants and wildlife, and in snapshots of people from different aborigines tribes and cultures living and working together on a little island in the Pacific... Memories of the country I came from, of the place where I was born and where I lived until six or so...

I stepped out onto the street, into the lazy Autumn sun, and saw the yellowing leaves twist and turn in the wind as they fell to the cobbled streets, and heard the clickety-clank of bicycles as men in suits cycled by. Lost in a scene of the country where I now live, and where I call home.

Amsterdam Gay Pride 2007

To be very honest, I'm not at all into the whole gay scene... and even less into pride events.
I guess it maybe just me, being very shy and quiet by nature, which is the complete opposite of what a gay pride is all about.

What is it all about? Being out, loud, and proud! Dancing, jiggling, screaming from the roof tops that "We're queer, we're here, and we're here to stay!"

There's nothing wrong with that, and I would never want to undermine the need to make ourselves known in a world built and dominated by heteros. There is still a lot of discrimination, misunderstanding and bigotry, even in this country, which is supposed to be the most liberal and open-minded in the whole world. But why does it all have to be so 'in-your-face' and create such a stir?

I was at the famous annual Amsterdam (A'dam) Gay Pride yesterday, where I walked around and took a lot of pictures. Every year, on the first Saturday in August, hundreds of thousands flock to A'dam to catch a glimpse of the unique pride which takes place on one of the many canals. Instead of traditional floats, here it's with boats, but no less exotic and extravagant.

It was really busy and crowded everywhere. I walked literally all around town, following the procession as it slowly circled the city. It's supposed to be the biggest event since it started in the late 70s, with over 70 boats taking part. Some were sponsored by clubs, others by companies which wanted to show that they take pride in the pride of their workers. A few boats belonged to gay-interest associations and organisations, and had a political message to them. For the first time, there was a boat with minors on it, and also one with straight people who wanted to show their solidarity with the gays. There was also one with elder people, the over 65s, but they too were enjoying the music and the wonderful weather as the crowd on either side cheered them on. Everywhere, pink sashes, rainbow flags, and colourful confetti flying all over the place.

Then... of course, and as expected at a gay pride, there were the drags in exotic Brazilian carnival-style colourful customes, alongside Moulin-Rouge-style drags in high fishnets and oversized feathered headgear. There were also hairy 'Bears' dressed in leather hot-pants, equipped with whips, their greased-up skin shimmering in the summer sun. And how could you miss the construction workers, dancing around almost completely naked in thongs, flagrantly dangling their 'tools' for everyone to see. Exotic. Erotic. Shocking. Anything goes...

I guess seeing those things were what made it a bit of a turn-off... No problem with people dressing up (or down) as they want, but why perpetuate the 'gay stereotypes' of sex, sex, sex, and screaming fags and drags? Can pride be shown in more subtle ways, instead of being so provocative and outrageously aggressive?

I mean, what makes gays different from other people is NOT the fact that we love pink and worship the rainbow flag, and love to go topless and put on make-up or weather feminine clothes.

What makes us different is that there is no difference at all! We just like and love people of the same-sex, what is 'different' about that? People are just people, with feelings and fears, emotions and desires. Man, woman, woman, man... what does it matter? Love is just love, and is blind towards who you portray it to, who you receive it from, or who you make it with. Why place so much emphasis on sex and gender, when what it all comes down to is just people engaged in the most human and basic instincts?

I don't like telling people "I'm gay". It's not because I don't want them to know, or I'm ashamed. If people ask, I answer honestly. There's nothing to hide, I've not done anything wrong. It's just that if there's one thing I dislike, it's labels. Why do I have to be 'gay', or 'Asian', 'a boy' or 'allochtone' (coloured foreigner), or anything at all? It simply makes people associate with certain ideas and stereotypes, and makes them ignorant and short-sighted by preventing them from seeing beyond the label. Why do I have to tell people I'm gay, when other people don't need to say "I'm straight"? The craziness of it all, and how confused this world is by placing so much emphasis on labels and identity, but forgetting and missing the individual and everyone's uniqueness as a human being.

Anyways, after walking around for a good few hours I felt a bit sick and wanted to get away from it all, to get away from the loud noise and excitement. Only when I managed to find a place to sit down quietly did I realise how exhausted I was from it all.


For more pictures of the gay pride, see here.

Queen's day

Walking home under a starlit sky seemed like a relief. The air was cool, and calm, and around me were sihoulete of trees and bushes that rustled slightly in the night breeze. Were it not for my light footsteps, and the occassional embarassingly loud scrapping of my shoes, it was so peaceful. So different from the whole day of din in the city.

The Queen's Day celebrations continued today, and the queen and her three princes seemed to have once again indulged themselves on their traditional 'day out'. It's the one day in the year the queen walks around and waves at cheering crowds, perhaps stopping here and there to receive the random bouquet from a royal fan, and giving the odd handshake. The princes enjoyed themselves too it seems, and this year with a bit of salsa dancing and fish-eating. Ordinary everyday events become extraordinary headlines when the royals do it.


Elsewhere, the country partied on. The entire country coloured orange as streets and windows panes became drapped with orange banners and the national colours of red-white-blue. It's the also the one day in the year when anyone can haul out garbage that have been collecting dust in the basement, and sell them on the streets, without a license. Vrijmarkt (Free market) they call it, and most things that are so tacky and dirty might as well be given away freely. But in this enlightening experience, you see Dutch culture at its most expressive. This is after all a thrifty nation, proud of the few cents that can be saved, and few cents that can be earned at any occassion. Everything, from worn-out clothes (even underwear) to whole furniture sets, from VCRs dating from the 80s to dolls with missing limbs. If it can be used again, it can be seen and sold.



I wandered the streets of Amsterdam (A'dam) with a friend, and admired the impressive array of wares on offer. Some things were still pretty decent, but we couldn't stop laughing as we wondered what anyone would want with a lonesome shoe.



We ventured forward, and spent some time at a gigantic music venue on Museumplein. A huge stage had been erected there, and thousands of people assembled before the the stage that pumped out live music, some good old hits from yesteryears, others more current hits... but all managed to work up the crowd. The sun was bright, and the sky clear. Some had even gone as far as stripping and lying down on the rubbish-filled grass to get a tan. The mood was electric, mingled with the occassional wafts of weed. Funny, I thought to myself, as I recalled that no less than three years ago the same square was bursting at the rims with a quarter of a million angry protesters demonstrating against the pensions reforms institigated by the last Christian right cabinet. Today, the crowd was united too, by the passion of Orange, by booze and by the rhythm of the music. I tried to avoid looking at the fallen pieces of unfinished pancakes, french fries and hamburgers, and had to restrain myself from kicking the tonnes of beer cans and plastic cups lying all over the place. Other people's gardens temporarily became places of 'convenience', as some guys decide to do some watering in broad daylight.



We wandered the streets some more, walking along the narrow streets and arteries of canals that criss-cross the heart of A'dam. Every street corner, at every cafe and every bar, music was blaring, and crowds gathered to shake and move their bodies. Old, young, 'queens', tourists, children ... everyone seemed to have lost themselves in orange fever. Boats carrying loud boom boxes cruised the canals and were boarded by people who moved frantically to the beat, in scenes reminiscent of the Gay Pride during the summer. It was crazy, this one big party, filled with bizzare kinds of dresses and costumes, diverse kinds of music. The taps kept on flowing with golden, foamy liquid, and in the air the smell of grilled burgers and freshly baked wafels made mouths water. We ended up at one place right next to the Westerkerk, right next to the house a timid girl, and writer-wannabe, named Anne Frank hid during the War. The loud band, stringy sounds of hot guitars and incessant drumming that played classic rock and pop songs could not have been a more stark contrast to what happened so many decades ago. People all over the place drank and ate, feasted and partied like there's no tomorrow. Perhaps trying to not remember that tomorrow there's still work... or in our case, class.

I generally am not such a big fan of such street parties where you have to really fight for your space if you want to continue walking. But it's always nice to see what kind of craziness people get up to. And it's always nice to do it with friends, and have something worth remembering about, so that one day we can look back and say: "Remember then..."

Queen's eve

The moon was almost completely out, but still shy, sheltering behind a thin veil of clouds. It was awfully quiet, almost unnaturally so, as I slowly cycled home. The wind was chilly, just like the weatherman had predicted, and a far, far world away from what the temperature had been during the day. Slowly I cycled home, head spinning still from the slight tipsiness induced by the loud music and alcohol. I was getting away from the the noise and choas in the city.

Queen's Eve (Koninginnenach) is perhaps the biggest national celebration in the Netherlands. It's the night before the Queen's (unofficial) Birthday, which falls on the last day of April. Since the weather is so much better than the drab dreariness and gray, and like any celebration in this country, it's always a good excuse for a big p-a-r-t-y.



For a few days in a row, people go wild in the country. The streets dye orange, as flags and banners bearing the colour of the royal family appear in a sudden frenzy. Temporarily orange-fever takes over the shelves in shops, the fashion and even the foods on offer at the supermarket. Unusually, and for the first time ever in my life, I too donned on an orange jumper to fit in.

Agreed with some friends to meet at the city centre, as traditionally The Hague has always been the place to be on Queen's Eve. Indeed, like every year, huge podiums were erected in and around the centre of town, and by the time we arrived the sea of people had already swamped what normally would be wide open squares. As expected, many were in orange, many wearing the official T-shirt of the Dutch football team, others just any odd orange shirt or pants or hats after a good dig in their closets. Lights flashed all around, as loud music drummed into ours ears.

The music was alright, but a little too random, and ended much too soon. One moment you could be swaying to something latin, and the next to a hit from the eighties, to be followed up by techno. Perhaps when you're drunk, you don't notice. And Like any open-air party, the ground was sticky, filthily littered with cups of plastic and beer bottles and coke cans. The air smelt of that smell of beer, one that I personally find nauseating, worsened as other revelers spill it onto you in their half-drunked swagger with two, three cups of beer in their hands. Walking around you had to pry your feet up in order to take the next step, of course, always mindful not to step on the delicious-looking remains of someone else's dinner (and/or lunch). At least the company of my friends was pleasant enough to make the rest seem bearable.



My favourite moment was the 'afterparty', when two girls and I ventured through the crowd and managed to end up in front of the building where we usually have classes. Right next door was a club, playing a (random) mixture of songs. Perhaps it was the alcohol acting up, or the ridiculousness of the way many fellow Dutchies were dancing around us, but we seemed to have suddenly cast off our conscious selves and indulged in what seemed like endless frolicking and fun. We did the pogo-dance and seeing each other's laughters and claps we were encouraged to go on dancing. Right there, in the middle of the street, in front of the very building we have our tedious law lectures, we probably made a fool of ourselves in front of dozens of people, but we didn't mind. We were having too much fun to mind, and kept on pogo-dancing, jumping up and down, spinning and turning around, getting higher and delirous from every single step. Up and down, we lost ourselves, seemingly forgetting all about the worries of the world, and life that goes with it, just enjoying the moment and treasuring it, and every moment of it.

Fun...

Fireworks at Taipei101

The annual New Year’s firework display at Taipei 101! I was there last year, and it’s pretty amazing to see it live! (scroll down to the bottom of the page!)