At YUL

At the airport, ready to board another flight. Same day return, to Toronto and back later tonight. Second time in three days.

I'm exhausted. Went to bed at four, but could not really sleep till five, and had to get up an hour or so later. My head is a daze, and I'm feeling slow and heavy.

Strange... I have an exam, yet now and then I experience flashes of doubt and anger. Even as I was studying, images and thoughts appeared before me... How can my best friend, someone who keeps on telling me how much he loves me, "abandon" me at a period when I need someone to confide in most? How could this all happen to me in the past two years when I've had to struggle the most against the odds of life and mum's illness and death? Is it all worth it when you end up with nothing? Is it worth it when you jeopardise years of friendship for... What? I don't think anyone realises how much damage, how traumatic it has been for me. I don't think anyone can see how damaged and paining I am right now. Why am I letting myself be so bothered and so angered by it all? It's all in my mind... All in my mind...

Am I going to write an exam in this state of mind? Am I going to scrape enough points to pass? All I need and want is a pass... Eight more hours and all this will be over. For this time around.

Cleansing

I have moments when I saw myself from afar: eyes tired from lack of sleep, my face heavy with thoughts and worries, my body weak and slouching from fatigue and longing... Yes, I am exhausted, smiling still because I always manage to, but mentally and physically drained and frustrated.

Who could I turn to and talk about this without feeling like I'm burdening the person? My ex, my former confidante and rock who has been around for so long, seems to be caught in his own fatigue and emotional issues that these days feel i have much difficulty in talking to him. Other than the nagging and unanswered questions of whether he still care and whether he really wants to listen to me lament about how I'm feeling after long hard days at work, I know myself to be truly strong, and to truly get to the bottom of my problems, I must turn to myself for help.

I am trying. Trying I really am to take time out to travel. Or at least that is the plan. I've been wanting to go to India for a while now, and I remember so many moments when mum slowly declined, I said to myself, and on occasion to her, I'll go to India one day when all is over.

And now all is over, and I should live up to my promise-- to myself to and to mum.

But plans change, and nothing ever goes according to plan. Despite having booked a ticket almost a month ago, increasingly I've encountered obstacles on my way to leave... Visa problems, time issues, work still to be done, preparations I should do for a trip into an unknown land that does not have a reputation for being safe or hygienic...I've had to cancel my tickets today because first of all, the notices the price I paid is exorbitant compared to how much I only have to pay now, barely two weeks before my intended departure. And it may have been worth it if I were flying on the latest Dreamliner for part of my journey... But even that is not happening because of delays in delivery the new plane...
So after weeks of wrangling, searching and finally sitting down to buy a ticket, I'll need to start all over again...

I am frustrated, feeling pressed for time, feeling pressure from work, and generally feeling like a failure because things are not as simple and as easy as I thought or planned. Why is it that other people can just book a flight and just depart so easily, whereas I'm wondering about the ifs and whens or hows?

Well, all I can say is life is always changing, and I am experiencing it fully, whether I like it or not...

N

Gaspé

When mum visited Canada last year, I Wanted to take her to the Gaspé Peninsula. But we did not have enough time. Her five weeks were too short!

In the dream, I was booking tickets. Vividly, I browsed the railway company's website for the journey to Gaspé, so we could wake up and see the sunrise on the train, like we did on our way to Halifax. On the way back, I planned to book a flight. In the dream, I found a "cheap" deal, flying through some unknown places for around ice hundred dollars per person...

That was the dream... Is it another sign of a place must visit after everything is over...?

Rush

Why do I put myself through this? There is no reason really. Why do you do anything? Why do you love someone or feel such an urge to see someone suddenly, even if it means waking up early and getting on a plane to go see him?

I know. Perhaps one day I'll regret it all. Perhaps I'm just under the spell of feelings and being manipulated into running back into his arms again. Perhaps my ex is stringing my heart and feelings and just trying to see where things are going before he breaks up his relationship. Perhaps I'm just too gullible to buy into his excuses and reasons...

But I just want so company, I just want some sense of familiarity and comfort. And more than anyone else in the world, he offers me that. He offers me that, and the possibility of a new start together... And that is worth going for, that is worth trying, is it not?

Another chance

After a series of exchanges by text message, I think both my ex and I calmed down. Nothing can be resolved by texting, and I believe both of us are tired of letting things just drag on unresolved... Perhaps he more than anyone else.

Last night I spoke to a friend whose opinion I've always respected greatly. "You guys have to sit down face to face..." Whatever the resolution, it's necessary to just sit and talk things through. Because that way we will know the other side of the story, that way we will (hopefully soon) know what way this lingering impasse will proceed. After all we've gone through, all the years we've known one another, we owe it to ourselves to talk about things.

So I woke up (a bit too late perhaps...) and had an impulsive urge. To see him. To go to Niagara Falls, where we took our first trip together, where we made beautiful memories just sitting there watching the sun go down and listening to the waters fall.

I know I am disappointed several people by doing this, especially the two good friends who sat with me and comforted me that night when I drank and cried. They'll probably think I'm weak and too weak, and that my ex is manipulative and playing with my heart. But they did say at one point too that none of this is over, and that things will just drag on and on... And I don't want things to drag on and on. O want, I need clarity. Either break off things completely or a whole fresh start.

How will this weekend go? How will the drama between my ex and I, who obviously have strong mutual feelings for one another, unfold?

I hope beautifully, as beautifully as when we fell in love with one another that first time we watched the waters fall.

Heading south

It's so beautiful outside the window. Lush mountain ranges, clear, sunny skies. The train is hurtling through the countryside, past little villages, rice paddies and winding roads and creeks.
I was supposed to take my bike and wander through this land on my own for a few days... But I doubt I have the time. I doubt I have the time now, but one day, one day I will accomplish my dream...

This time next week, I should be at the airport about to board my flight. Strange to think now I'm on board a train and heading to a farewell ceremony. I've tried to rest a bit, for I slept poorly last night and woke up in an agitated state of mind, but my mind is restless for some reason...

Eva Air joins *Alliance!

Mum switched on the news early in the morning. It's good to fill the room with some other voice than just silence, which is often the language between us now.

I first heard talk about Eva Air, perhaps my favourite airline, so I turned to watch the screen. And then there was a shot of a bunch of officials stranding in front of a Star Alliance sign. "Eva accepted as Star Alliance member"!

I was suddenly elated! I've been anticipating this day when about a year ago news of talks between the airline and my alliance were leaked. I fly (almost) exclusively Star if given the choice (I'm loyal and don't like to "cheat"!). I'd even pay a bit extra and transfer two, three times if I have to just to fly a Star Alliance member to collect points. So for three years running I've attained Gold Member status, which gives me upgrades and also extra allowance and priority services. "I've earned it" as the *Alliance ad says!

I sat next to mum and was so excited! I've not been excited about anything much for a long time! "This means I can come back here more often! Direct flights and earn points!"

Mum didn't say anything. She had just vomited. I felt somewhat bad and out of place getting so excited by something as airline miles, when half an hour ago the doctor came in and talked to us about the big decision. And I was getting excited about flying and collecting miles and Gold Status!

I guess you need to distract yourself in the worst of times. You need to find something to make you feel excited, feel passionate and alive again, even if the one next to you looks and feels so tired and lethargic.

Just because we're facing a stark decision, a decision of life and quality of life, I still need to find reasons to smile and feel like an excited child again!

Trip abroad

My cousin has been studying English for over ten years, and it has always been an ambition of hers to go abroad to an English speaking country. That is her ambition, and her dream is actually to one day move to abroad to work as a nurse.

She has been having a lot of difficulty realising her dream, especially financial troubles, and seeing me travel so much, she is often envious of me. So I've silently vowed to help her however I can.

An uncle of our, who has always been very kind and generous, approached me one day and together we plotted something. He would pay for my cousin's airfare, and I could help to book her flights.

We spent an afternoon looking for fares online, an endeavour which fascinated her, and opened her eyes to possibilities. I had my uncle's budget in mind, and originally my cousin only wanted to go to two places in the US (California and Florida, both where she has relatives), I managed to squeeze in a little side trip to BC, Canada to visit our aunt and cousins who live in vancouver. I paid a little to make up for the difference, but I knew how much she's been dreaming about going abroad, so I wanted to give her a full and exciting itinerary. Actually at one point, when I was planning to head back to Canada around this time, I even said she can come visit me in eastern Canada. But that unfortunately is not happening.

My cousin is due to leave tomorrow morning, and this afternoon, using the four hour break I had, I went through the whole flying procedure with her, from check-in to boarding, to immigration and customs (I even told her all about frequent flyer programmed, showed her the benefits of the "Mile High Club" as a joke...)
She was overwhelmed at first, but still very excited. I even gave her a sheet with "instructions" based on a "guide to flying" I produced for my younger cousin (who never managed to come visit me...).

She was very appreciative. But when she was not looking, I slipped a little card in her bag, a "have a safe trip" card with a touching message, But also all the Canadian money I had with me. "Open this card only when you board the plane!!" I told her. I smile at the very thought of this little surprise... Little surprises like this make me so happy, and that is a welcome change of feeling different from what I feel at the hospital.

Why am I doing all this for my cousin? Because I care about her, and genuinely hope she can benefit from this first experience abroad and that it'll help her open her eyes and mind. I've had that privilege given to me in my life, at an early stage. And if I could offer some pointers and tips on travelling and going abroad, why not?
And my cousin has been very supportive and helpful in different ways throughout this period I have been here (despite her previously homophobic views...), and in a way this is my little way of saying "thank you".

Flying

In my dream I was rushing to the airport... Schiphol it probably was, and there were multiple destinations I was heading to at the same time for some reason... Incheon, Toronto, Taipei and London. So many places to go, and I remember I had to rush between terminal buildings, has go shove around with my luggage. I saw myself run in the corridors of the airport trying to catch my flight(s). There were connections to be made, and I was so stressed because I was short of time.

Everything was such a rush, and I was by myself. But where was I really going to.'? Why was I hurrying to go there?

Woke up so tired, and with a sore back. The rain fell heavily the window, and mum was gagging again...

Still missing..

Almost  24hrs since I last spoke to mum, since anyone in the immediate range of friends and relatives spoke to mum.

Still out of contact.

If I cannot get a hold of her by morning, I'm flying out.

AMS-LHR-NCL

A dozen minutes or so before landing at NCL. Within the next hour, everything I've planned over the past two, three weeks will be realised.

Will it all go according to plan, according to how I imagine it in my head?

How very exciting this all is. And in a way, how very romantic too. Romantic in the most general sense... In the sense that someone would travel so far, go through all sorts of trouble, go to all lengths just to spring up a wonderful surprise on you. Romantic also in the 'love' sense... What would you do to make someone feel loved and appreciated? A lot.

How far would you go to let them know you care? Far, far...

London calling

LHR-AMS
3 Dec

What to do when you have two hours to kill at the airport? I guess you could wander around, walk all over the terminal building(s)... Or you could make a mad dash to downtown London and then back again. And I chose to do the latter.

I got off the plane, and was half expecting my ex to be lurking around. Luckily he wasn't. So I made my way from terminal 3 to terminal 1 (just do that I could 'disappear' off the radar and make it harder to track, if I was being tracked...) then to terminal 5 to get my boarding pass for my onward connection. It was on the train between the terminals  that I got the idea. 15 minutes to downtown London on the Heathrow Express, which runs every 15minutes. So the longest it would take is only half an hour. I'd be pushing it, but i could do it. And there is one place I've been wanting to go back, and that's my alma mater: SOAS.

So i took the chance I had an hour or so from the moment I boarded the train. Heathrow to Paddington, change on the Hammersmith and City line to King's Cross / St Pancras, transfer on the Piccadilly Line to Russell Square. I know these routes off of my head. I can picture the colours and the tube trains and connecting stations.

So many familiar places, signs, buildings... The streets, smells, the crinkling and creaking sounds of the tube. A decade ago I went to London to study. And look at me now, ten years later. How far have I come? I felt like I've come full circle to be back where I was then, and that I've grown and matured so much...

How strange it felt to be standing in front of the very building I entered almost everyday for three years. There is a sign that marks the entrance to my university. The symbol is of a big green tree in full bloom. Knowledge and wisdom thriving through time. A school originally established to train diplomats and colonial officers at a time when the sun never set over the vast stretch of the British Empire. Today, it is a breeding ground for critical studies of the developing world, for staunch opponents  of the existing (oligarchical and oppressive) economic and political world order.

Those three years spent at SOAS certainly stimulated my mind and thinking, fertilised the left leaning tendencies and great interests I take in the lives and affairs of the world at large, as seen from non western-centric point of views. There were banners and weather-worn posters on the walls and lamp posts on campus. Protests, activist movements were, and still apparently are, the norm at this little college in the heart of London.

I took a picture and quickly turned around. 10am. The gate closes at 1120. So I rushed, the same route back. I filed into the crowded tube station at Russell Square, waited for the elevator to take dozens of other waiting passengers 15 storeys underground. Luckily I managed to hop onto the eastbound train to Cockfosters before the door closed. I caught my breath briefly before I rushed and rushed up the long flight of escalators at King's Cross to transfer on the line toward Paddington station. 1010am. Train leaves in 10 minutes. If I missed it, I would be really pushing it with the time. I still needed to get through security, and who knows how long that will take.

1018... And the tube slowly, slowly pulled into Paddington station. Why does everything seem so slow when you're in a hurry? Why do I get myself into hairy situations (or perhaps adventures, however you'd like to see it...) like this, when I could have been sitting quietly at the airport terminal and just waited to board the plane? Even the check in counter man told me there's not enough time to go anywhere, and told me to just stay put and wait for the plane.

But I like a bit of excitement, I guess.. I want to do things that are against the grain and unpredictable, and totally crazy even, things when you look back will make you smile, and somewhat proud, and think: "Did I really do that??"  I mean who in their right mind would go to downtown London and back in one hour just to pose in front of the university where they used to study? I would. And I did.

1019, I grabbed my carry on with my two hands, snaked through the crowd who were taking their leisurely time. Up and down the flights of stairs I ran, simultaneously eyeing quickly the monitor which displayed train departure times and destinations...

Heathrow... Yes! Heathrow Terminal 5. Platform 6. In 2 minutes. There the train was. I could see it.

I set down carry on, and let it roll. The four wheels grumbled loudly behind me as I dashed down the platform. Is this it? Is this the train? Get onboard. Just get onboard!

So onboard the train I jumped. And within a minute, barely with the time catch my breath, the intercom sounded. "Mind the doors, mind the closing doors. Heathrow Express to Terminal 5".

I was onboard. Sweaty, hot,out of breath, my heart racing rapidly, but I was finally on board. And in my camera were  the classic shots of me and of a teddy bear posing in front of my alma mater.

Well done. Mission accomplished...

YUL-LHR

YUL-LHR

Another flight, another night spent on the plane. I know I promised myself I wouldn't travel, but here I am flying away again...

At least the flight is pretty empty, and I can stretch out over two seats, and hopefully catch a wink before the five hours or so is up.  I feel like I haven't really slept much over the past two weeks or so. Just rushing here and there, and at night working till late in the morning, either on my thesis, or over the last couple of days, on the special scrapbook for my ex's birthday. The lack of sleep, the tiredness and red eyes are all worth it, for finally i have (almost) completed my thesis and therefore also the degree I began over three years ago.

It means a heavy burden off my shoulders, and time to move onto something else...  the tiredness, lack of sleep and red eyes are worth it also  if only to see the beautiful surprise on my friend's face when he pieces together the little surprises and clues to realise what I've been planning (plotting!) all these months, if only to make him smile again, especially after a lot of hurt and pain I've caused him, especially what we've both endured in recent times.

Of course, I'm not just going to surprise him at his house. I'm also journeying to see my brother and his new family, and importantly see my nephew for the first time. How special is that.... I used to get so excited and become so touched by my godson, but imagine now I have a baby in my own family, a baby who is related to me, and in some distant way, a part of me.

  This afternoon, I rushed to the bookstore to pick out some gifts for my nephew. At the baby section, I just grabbed these colourful and beautiful and cute books. I didn't even look at the prices, and just put them all into my basket. It ended up costing over a hundred dollars, but I didn't think too much of it...

Because it's for my nephew... Because I want him, even though I've never even met him yet, to have the best of everything, and since the day i learned if his existence, i vowed silently that I'll try and provide what I can to give him a boost in life (on top of what my brother and sister-in-law provide to him, of course.) Since my brother asked me the other day to pick out some English language books, I've been browsing online for them and getting excited myself by all the possible things I could get for him...

And soon, I'll deliver it all into my nephew's hands.

Rush, rush, rush

Everything so last minute, so rushed. Trying to catch my breath, trying to find a moment of calm amidst the hectic moments of worry and insecurity.

I sent my friend off last night, and tonight I'll be at the airport again to send myself off. I promised myself I wouldn't travel until January, but a number of reasons "make" me now sit in the metro with two pieces of luggage on my way into school early in the morning. Or at least, they are reasons I tell myself can justify me   Jetting away again...

My ex, even though he's my ex has so often expressed hope that I could go visit him at his home. And somehow, I feel if I don't visit him now, I probably will not get a chance in the future. I know the situation between us is complicated, and perhaps it's completely naive and foolish of me to travel across the globe to jut surprise him, especially how he's hurt me in some ways over the past few months and weeks... But he's special to me, and even as just a friend, I would do anything to make him happy and smile. I would (literally) travel the world  to show that he means a whole lot to me...

Then theres my nephew, who turned three months, and yet I've not even had the chance to visit him. What a terrible uncle I am! Three days from now is sinterklaas, the Dutch Christmas, so what better time is there to pay him a surprise visit?

It will be hectic today. Need to drop off my suitcase at the office, then head to the hospital for a few hours of volunteering. then rush downtown to get some last minute gifts for my brother and his family. Then at around four in the afternoon I have a thesis meeting with my supervisor. After that, I need to rush to the airport to catch my flight.

So many things all at once! I'll be so relaxed and relieved once I'm on board the plane tonight....

Down South

Down south, it is so much warmer. Close to 28C today as I sat in the sweltering heat. Had to strip down to my undergarments to keep cool, for the sun was almost unbearable.

Second day of my stay in Chiayi. Eating with relatives, meeting and chatting, sometimes even just sitting down at a table and listening to the grown-ups talk. It brings us all together, even if for a very limited amount of time, reconnecting us, and defining us again as family and relatives.

To be honest, I feel a little gap, a divide in the circle of relatives. Yesterday was spent mostly with people on dad's side, but it felt like we had to be careful what we said, or how we acted, because some of them don't have a high opinion of us... Besides, sitting in that loud and crowded restaurant was exhausting, and I really didn't feel like talking much.

Today was much different though, with mum's relatives. A quiet little room for lunch, just the few of us, great food, and good conversation. The atmosphere was much more at ease. Tomorrow, we plan to head south to Kaoshiung to visit uncle and his family.

The only thing is... mum has been having severe diahrea for the last two days. It all started when she suddenly threw up yesterday while we were about to enter a restaurant. She saw a pile of intestine lying there, and just couldn't help it. Puke poured out of her mouth, her nose. I turned just in time to catch her arched over and throw up right there on a crowded street. I cleaned up her clothes, patted her back, and bent down to wipe her shoes. She had put on nice clothes to go see relatives, but after that she looked so frail and so embarassed...

I am concerned.

Rail away

I stirred, and the world awoke.

Slowly at first, the first sliver of dawn crossed the land. Then, gradually and certainly, the sun came out, its rays caressing the tops of bare and broken trees like a gentle touch, while the frigid night slowly sank away. Frost, and flakes of ice that glimmered like tinsel in the morning light, flew past the window. The train rocked steadily on.

Just the day before, a crazy thought crossed my mind. A leap of faith, a sudden determination that removed (almost) all doubt, and a few hours later, I am journeying into the northern prairies and forests, into a land I have never been before, but somehow seemed so familiar from pictures in brochures. Soaring pine trees with upturned arms embracing the heavens, enchanted woods of green, yellow and red, rolling creeks reflecting the world in its watery surface, jagged rockfaces covered with a layer of ice, broad estuaries, the distances spanned by lonely railroad bridges. And now, I was finally here.

What lay at the end of the line I did not know. Did it matter? Sometimes, breaking away from the routine of school and work, even if it meant a 'temporary absence' (read: skipping class) does good to the soul. A still world flashed past, barely enough time for me to see and admire all the beauty in the lifelessness that is just beginning to see the life of day. A vast land stretched, till an endless horizon. I imagine those pioneers who first scouted these lands so very long ago. Did they too feel such a similar sense of awe and inspiration as I did with the nature all around? Mountains stretched like the crooked backs of sleeping black bears. Suddenly, the lonesome whistle of the engine was embarrasingly loud.

Sometimes the rail tracks run parallel to one another, across this stunning yet desolate landscape. There are moments when a single track must run its own course alone, encounter bends and winds and steep obstacles uphill. At other times, the tracks splits, and trails along the smooth calm sea, white picket fences of quiet little towns, and empty stations with but a wind-roughened sign and bare bench. Like people, tracks cross, come together, and part again, only to meet and merge into one further down the journey.

Rail away, rail away...


  
  (On a 17hr journey to surprise and support a friend who is going through a very rough low point in life...)

First sightseeing

A lazy, hazy, and wet Sunday morning. I left my apartment and grabbed my bike. The roads here are pretty pock-holed, so cycling takes extra care. On the map a cyclepath was marked, but it was nothing more than cycling alongside huge humvees and 18 wheelers. Past a vacant lot I rode, past warehouses and an industrial zone, where the stench of factory smoke hung in the air. I turned, and before me was the water, flowing towards downtown Montréal.

Finally, after almost two weeks in the city, I could take the time and freedom to go out and see a bit of it... the bits other than my university or the streets and alleys when I was desparately looking for a place to live. I rode along the Canal Lachine, which apparently used to be the industrial vein of the city, connecting it with the Old Harbour and inland. Today, derilict looking factories and warehouses have been revamped into modern apartments, while the rusty skeleton of towering silos reminded the present of a bustling time in the past. The banks of the canal have been converted into the so-called Green Belt, a stretch of cyclepaths and greenlands that go on for kilometres. And on this I rode, enjoying once more that feeling of freedom and joy I get from hutling at high speeds.

Cyclepaths here are very different from the Netherlands. They are not terribly well marked, and you could tell that often they have just been demarcated wherever there was space. So often the path winds and snakes, sometimes on the main road along with gas-guzzlers, and sometimes onto the pavement, where you have to be careful not to run over the mum with the toddler and the dog on a leash.

Down the canal I pedaled, until eventually I arrived at the Old Port. At first glance, it was only a host of abandoned warehouses and defunct quays, and it is perhaps difficult to imagine the prospertiy and activity that the port once enjoyed. But like some many old ports that have outlived their usefulness, the area has been converted into a recreational and artists' zone, with boutiques, museums, an IMAX theatre, fountains next to abstract Ju-Ming's Tai-Chi sculptures.

Close by, lay the sprawling streets and hunger-evoking scents of Peking Duck in Chinatown. I parked my bike, and for the first time ever in my life, I paid for the parking fees at a slot machine, like you would when you park your car. The ticket I place on the handle, and I wondered whether a traffic warden would actually come by and check. I guess paying a $2 for 30 minutes (bike) parking is better than risking having your bike 'towed' away.

Pre-departure

A new world is about to open before me in just a few hours.

In the final hours in the Netherlands, I went to the beach, the same beach I have strolled down when I was sad, when I was tense, when I was feeling inspired. The seagulls called out and sailed on the rough seas. A strong wind blew, and I clung onto my clothes. The sea and its saltiness on my lips.

I was not alone. Next to me was a dear friend, guide, and support. Someone who has given me many valuable lessons, someone who has been there when I was lonely and down. The skies flashed, and it began to rain.

Drizzle at first, but then it stormed. On the final night in the Netherlands, I sat in my friends apartment, and listened to the rain fall on the window over a hot cup of tea and homemade cookies. The air filled with the delicious scent of cooking and homeliness, and temporarily I thought about how I will miss such company when I leave.

The rain has since died, the wind since calmed. Outside a starry night, soon to turn into bright morning. This final night in the Netherlands, my suitcase packed, my clothes for the long flight westward folded and waiting to be worn.

A journey is about to begin... my life is given a new opportunity, one that I still have to discover and learn about.

Freak storm

It first rained, and most of the guests sitting on the patio were undisturbed. Then it poured, and we decided to move into the restaurant. A wise decision, as only moments later, it began to hail. Huge balls of eyes, some as big as a child's hand, striking down on the earth and breaking into endless shards as it hit the ground. Pedestrians fled for cover, and the normally tranquil square now seemed a disaster area, littered with pieces of broken ice. I sat in the comfort of the restaurant and looked outside. The waiters scrambled to keep the guests assured, and tried to drain the pools of water that had collected on the parasols and that threatened to drench the guests sitting below.

Then, in one swift move, the wind shrieked and howled and cried, as rain ripped outside like a mad creature unleashing all its might and fury. It has been a long time since I saw anything like it... and the scene was reminiscent of typhoon-like conditions. The fierce and rapid fallings drops of rain, coupled with piercing winds. Chairs slid, tables shook, and the guests, drenched and shocked, now fled inside, not even bothering with their food and drinks.

I sat in the relative calm, and admired the chaos unfold before me.

Second day of being back in the Netherlands, and brother had kindly offered to take us on a long Sunday-drive. Mainly to go to this outlet shopping mall some two hundred kilometres away for cheap deals and good buys, but incidentally we were lured by the sunshine and hills of Limburg-- a rarity in a flat and plain land as this one-- and drove further to the city of Maastricht. Besides the freak weather show, it was a pleasant drive. We enjoyed each others company, joked and chatted. And bringing us all together was mum, which looked energetic and happy-- a far cry from when she was undergoing chemo treatment not so long ago.

We talked about trips together, about what mum can do now that she has decided to take a long leave from work. Sometimes you reach a stage in life when you realise the most important thing is not just work or making money, but sharing with family moments of joy and togetherness. Whatever will be, will be, and nothing else really matters anymore. There is really no point to fret or dwell on when or what if, but just enjoy the time we have together.

Enjoy the beauty and shared moment when the sun slowly set, and cast a golden hue on the clouds and all the land below.

National Palace Musuem

Something my professor in Chinese Politics at SOAS once said has always stuck with me:
"If you only go to Taiwan to visit the National Palace Museum, then this alone will be worth the trip".

Of course, there is much more to see, eat and do in Taiwan than just the museum, but my professor was right. The National Palace Museum ranks up there with the world-class museums in London (the British Museum), Paris (the Louvre) and New York (the Metropolitan), and is famed for its huge collection of Chinese art and culture.

It is easy to see why. Situated between green mountains in the suburbs of Taipei, the museum has over half a million artifacts that date back to five thousands years before the common era (BCE). Only a tiny fraction of the collection can be on display, while the rest are hidden inside a huge cave in the mountain behind it. Given the 3 month display cycle, they say it will take twelve years to see everything.

Admittedly the collection was largely 'taken' from China at the end of the Chinese Civil War. Then, with the help of the Americans, the failed Kuomingtang regime gradually fled to Taiwan, taken much the of gold and precious treasures of ancient China with them. But, as my professor said, it was perhaps a good thing that all these treasures are now still preserved in Taiwan, because much of it would have been lost in the frenzy of the Cultural Revolution. Thus the Forbidden Palace in Beijing, where most of the artifacts were originally located, today stands largely bare. While in Taipei visitors are able to enjoy magnificent works of calligraphy, pottery, masonry and the symbolisms and longevity of Chinese culture throughout the millennia.

While much of the rest of the world lived in caves (some 6000BCE), bronze ceremonial vessels were already being shaped and made in the large expanse of what is known as China today. Wars, disasters man-made and natural, upheavals, and the rise and fall and rise of states together mark the long history of China. It is a country (if ever it can be called one) of great resilience and vigour, with a rich heritage, yet is philosophically humble and respectful to all others. (At least in times of peace). In times when China has historically been powerful and more territorial agressive, one should perhaps heed Napoleon's advice to "Let the dragon sleep". This applies no less today.

Even the Ancient Greeks would probably have been awed at those statues of elaborately carved and gilded Buddhas and dieties, and the scriptures that describe Taoist-Way and the wisdom of Confucius and Mencius. This is after all where the wheel, paper and fireworks were all invented. And in the process great works of art and culture have thrived. Further, there are beautiful calligraphy writings that capture the essence of human creativity and the flow of nature, right next to ornate paintings depicting life in the luxury of emperor's palace. Fine jade works and ivory carvings, ceramics and vases stand admirably under intense lighting that bring out their every curve and the careful craftsmanship.

Culture, religion, philosophy and daily life in a peasant village and in the imperial court can all be gleamed from the eye to detail and finesse in every single item on display. A civillisation's greatness is often captured by the remnants of its dynasties, and certainly ancient China had many, many that outlived those in Europe or elsewhere. (see part of the amazing collection here.)