Recognition

After over two months I heard back from the friend who lost his mum to cancer. He said he's been very affected, but family has been very supportive. He's back at work again, after taking extended leave, and work is distracting him. But still it hurts and is very difficult.

"i dunno how u got thru it alone when it happened to u" he wrote to me.

Those words penetrated my heart, and I almost broke out in tears. 

It was the recognition that really touched me. Recognition that I still hurt, still feel the hurt and recognniton that it's not all over just because it's been almost two years. 

My friends don't ask anymore. 

It's as if just because I'm smiling more, just because I'm laughing more and going out a bit more, I'm over it. 

But can you ever get over death of a loved one? Can you ever get over the death of your mother? As a book about grieving I read put it, you don't move on from death. You move forward with it. It weighs heavy and is with you throughout your life. At times it's lighter, but there are moments, anniversaries, holidays, memorable days, when it's as painful and fresh as the day it happened. 

I'm hurting still, and I've come a long, long way from those nights I cried alone in bed or would wake up from a nightmare and memories of hospital wards and mum plugged to tubes... but I'm sure my friend is hurting even more. 

Trust

Trust too much and you are treated like a foolish fool who can manipulated and lied to .

Close off and youre forcing yourself to withdraw again after slowly coming out of mourning and letting go of pain and loss.

But nothing can and will remain the same.

This ends here and now.

Pek-sfo

PEK-SFO

One more hour till arrival in San Francisco. It has not been such a bad eleven hoursx not as I dreaded in economy (plus) class. I guess I was too exhausted, for I slept most of the way, and watched a two silly movies and some documentary about fish tank makeovers (which was surprisingly captivating). 

Flying United after several days in China you actually begin to appreciate little words as "You're welcome" and "Thank you". That says a lot about China, and about United. I was really getting very frustrated at the poor attitude and way people treat you (and one another), and how it is considered the norm. Even at the special counter reserved for frequent fliers I did not get a smile or a thank you or anything along the lines of "have a good flight". It was as if being served by the person, I was asking her a huge favour. And she did her job poorly, for I had to remind her twice to place priority tags on my luggage, and she did not even place me in the priority boarding area.  I know first world problems, but it underlines how people really just don't care about one another, and as many locals have said to me, they care most about money and a rosy cheeked Chairman Mao (who's face is on the 100yuan note).  

The past three weeks or so has been such an experience, not least I stepped outside my comfort zone and for the first time ever broke the self-imposed embargo by visiting the People's Republic of China. What I saw and experienced surprised me, for (again, at least what I saw) China has greatly kept forward and is extremely developed, particularly just the infrastructure and swaths of highrises all over the place. But despite such economic development and wealth, there is an alarming dirth of moral integrity and social cohesion, for evrything is under tight control by the Communist Party which is merely communist in name and whose presence is still strongly felt in propaganda posters and the ubiquity of policemen all over the place (of course not comparable to the degree in North Korea). 

This sense of moral deprivation and an overriding sense of selfishness and egoism owes much to the fact there is simply so many (perhaps too many) people competing for food, for work, for getting rich and having a  comfortable  life. There is in fact so much fear in people's lives, and it seems the only way to protect yourself is to get rich (自肥 "self-fattening", as the local term goes) Fear of being conned, Fear of not getting on the metro first, fear for food safety, fear of being murdered or kidnapped and having your organs sold for money is part of daily life... It is a wonder how people live in such a crowded place and must continually struggle and vie to be heard and to be recognised. Ironically, it was Mao who himself urged people to struggle against one another to root put decadence and spies, and filed distrust and self-preservation. 

It is a real shame, for China does have much potential, especially given its gloroious past (much of which, particularly the language, virtues, and cultures, have been preserved, due to a twist in history, in neighbouring and my native Taiwan). The ancient remains of the imperial dynasties in old Beijing are impressive and stunning, the beauty and ingenuity of Sichuan's Dujianyan waterworks is testament to the ingenuity and greatness of ancient China. But as China progresses, and as the Communist Party aims to ironically embrace the ancient values and virtues it four decades ago shunned and deliberately destroyed. The contradictions between how capitalism and consumerism  has manifested itself and the inward-looking attitude and socialist ideals that were once so trumped up by the Party, not least by Mao and his followers, is extreme, and at times humorous. 

This trip also brought me to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, which was an enlightening experience and a throwback to the height of the Cold War and language of anti-imperialism and socialist idealism. The country itself is beautiful, largely rural and agrarian, relatively untouched by development , forgotten, and to be honest very backward. Under the iron grip of the Kim Dynasty, there is a fear and discipline and conformity is kept alive with intimidation, fear and the constant bombardment of propaganda and the ever-present presence of the military which infiltrates all parts of life.  There is very limited freedom, even compared to China, and it is as if the world has passed it by while the leadership and its people live in the socialist pipedream that they are building an utopia that is amazing, unheard of and unparelleled in the world. 

I had a wonderful time with the small group of adventure cyclists who joined the tour with me, most of whom were Dutchies and my age group, which made interaction and being able to relate much easier. The train ride out of DPRK to China was another highlight, as was the flight into North Korea with Air Koryo. But how relieved I was to leave the hermit kingdom, even if entering the PRC. So imagine my joy when the plane landed at SFO and the moment I could access internet without censorship (but perhaps some monitoring, by the NSA...?) 

Eight more hours and two more flights till I get home. what a trip this has been, most of it done alone. I do enjoy the freedom of being a travel at will and go wherever I wish, even if against the advice of those concerned about my safety and security (I think I proved them wrong...). But there were several moments during my trip when I felt sad, pensive and down, for a journey alone is not as much joy. And I thought at times about my parents, about how it would be if they were around today for me to share with them my stories and adventures. 

SFO-ORD

Over half way through the flight, and I've been sleeping like someone drugged me, waking only when someone bumps my shoulder, since I'm in an aisle seat and this old 757 plane is so cramped.

I didn't realise how tired I am, how tired I have been. Not just from all that work and studying before the trip, but also from all that traveling and activities during the trip. Tours are tiring. In a way it's good, as you get to see more and get better value for money, but at the same time, it's fast paced and you have to  wake at six or seven every morning to set out. And doing all that biking, parrticularly in very warm conditions, is draining. Or maybe I'm getting old...? 

I had planned to work, or even write down some of my trip reports on this long journey home, but sleep just got the better of me. 

Nrt-pek

Nrt-pek

So exhausted and agitated, even though there's only an hour or so left of this flight. Been flying for over eighteen hours now. It's t getting too much already. I can't wait to have a hot shower and to lie down on a proper bed and sleep for a normal night till morning.  

The flights have been quite torturous, especially ad I choose to sit next to the window and am more or less hemmed in and need to ask for permission to get up and out. The fact that I got really ill last time I flew back to Asia has made me really paranoid. And somehow there are all these people who are sneezing and sniffing, making me really afraid of getting sick... 

So the final half an hour till we land in China. It will be interesting to see and experience for sure. From what I've seen so far , just the way people push and all crowd to board the plane, it's not pleasant. The plane already pushed back and passengers still got up and opened the overhead compartments. And  I could swear I heard the passenger behind spit. Is this normal? 

It is quite a historic moment, for I have long vowed I would not set foot in China, and have long held very negative opinions about the country. To be honest this trip was not really planned, and the main focus is really to see North Korea, the tour of which starts the day after tomorrow. But incidentally, I will get to see the People's Republic of China, this place which for so long holds such allure to many but to me is shrouded behind a veil of suspicion and animosity.

Last blog entry before the Great firewall of China.

On board bus to the plane. Surrounded by Chinese people...

This should be... interesting.

Den-nrt

UA139

Den-nrt 

It was just under a year ago that I boarded this same flight, UA139, the inaugural flight of the 787 to Tokyo Narita from Denver. How excited I felt then, my first flight with the Dreamliner. Today, is my third. That was the trip to commenmorate the  first anniversary of mum's passing.

A year can do many things to you. It can (and this year did...) make you older, more tired and pensive. It can heal you, wear you down, lift you up, or weigh heavy on you. A year on, and I feel very tired, perhaps mainly because I've slept so little and poorly over the past two, three weeks. And what better way is there to relax by going on a tour of the People's Republics of China and North Korea? 

I have been asked by many why I'm going on this trip. And the first instinct is: why not? 

Must there always be a reason to do things, a justification, an end? 

Can a trip just be the reason itself? 

I have been to many places in the world, and there are still so many more to explore. 

And North Korea is one of these places.

Sleeplessness

Three thirty in the morning. I am unable to sleep again, even though I just slept two hours or so. I don't know the reason exactly, but it may be out of fear of not waking up in time for my flight (and start of this exciting itinerary, "Tour of the People's Republics"...), and partly out of this lingering sense of defeatism I have been feeling since my exam yesterday morning.

Yes, I feel I royally did poorly. I don't know how. I just blanked out at one point for a few minutes and the question on paper said nothing to me. Two questions, worth thirty points in total were unanswered (one partly, but perhaps poorly...) Which means I already lost thirty points already. I need a fifty to pass, but it's still going to be very narrow. With some miracle, I may just scrape through, but I doubt it (being the pessimist I am...).

I don't know what happened. Perhaps I was just tired, exhausted from over a weeek of sleeping at irregular hours and trying to cram everything in at once. I studied hard, I tried so hard, and its all I  could have done. But maybe not hard enough? (It didn't help this "friend" told me a week earlier I wouldn't make it and won't be able to finish studying. How encouraging...) Maybe Im just not good enough; despite being so sleep deprived and feeling like I'm about to collapse because I'm just so tired. So very tired. I feel my body burning from exhaustion, and even putting my body through all that, I most likely failed the exam. And my stomach has been so upset over the past few days because of all the stress and tensions. No relief...

I knew the concepts, I knew the law, I had tonnes of notes, but I just couldn't make use of them. I just couldn't identify what the question was asking me and come up with a coherent answer. I just couldn't, at least not for the two questions I left blank...

I hate to have to repeat the exam again, especially as I already know I need to repeat one (Law of Evidence, this latest one I did was Property Law... ). What a blow it would be on my psyche and self esteem. But what could I do...?

I need to wake up at in half an hour. Just can't sleep. At least if I'm really tired, I could sleep across the Pacific. It's a way of coping with sitting on a cramped seat I guess.

What use is it to mull over defeat?
The exam was the way it was, right?
Perhaps its just not my year, as its been a rough few months since the beginning of the lunar New year, as the horoscope predicted

So is it really wise to be heading to countries of high risk, like the People's Republic s of China and North Korea...?

We shall find out.
And I say this with perhaps a foolish sense of bravadery, and  a hint of smugness, as if I'm trying to taunt fate by throwing cautions and numerous attempts by people to discourage me from going (and there have been many...) in the wind.

Mum's birthday

She would have been 62 today.

As I struggled on to finish studying, my mind drifted to events two years ago...
How I rushed to go see (worship) dad on a rainy day and rushed back to the hospital to bring mum (longevity) noodles... How days later, she was discharged from the hospital and my nephew (through my sistter in law) bought beautiful flowers and they stood there on the dining room table as she walked slowly and sat down on the chair...

I remember so clearly, and my blog entries back then coloured the blanks. What state I was in then...
How agitated, how tired (but strangely I did not need to sleep...I could go on and on without proper sleep, unlike now, as sleep seems to have become my refuge from the world), how pained, how worried I was then. And then, I was on the brink of my return to Canada for an exam. Then, as now, I was studying for an exam, for something that I promised mum I would complete--in a way for her, so that she could go with the knowledge that I would, at least professionally, have a stable career. Two years on, and I struggle still to live to that promise as I struggle to tick off all the exams I need to do to be admitted to the bar. 



Throughout the day, as I was reading through painfully dry material on covenants and easements, my mind flashed back to two years ago... My eyes would tear. There is a sense of relief that those days are now far behind me.. but in that relief is also a void as a result of losing no doubt the most important and dearest person in my life. Mum... I had a mum.

I had a mum I could hug. I had a mum whose hands I could hold and who would brush my hair and pat me on the back when I needed comforting. I had a mum who loved and cared for me unconditionally, even though then she was struggling with life and bravely fought cancer...

Two years on, it is all quiet here.
All alone, cooped in my room , head down, studying. The silence is only broken by soft classical music in the background, broken by occasional sobs and sniffs of a son who still longs for the love and touch of his dear, and now dead, mother.

Happy birthday, mum...

Thank you for everything.
I miss you dearly.

Dream

I was arguing with my brother, he was complaning about money issues again, particlary about how when mum visited , his bills inflated.

I became so furious. How can he be even talkokg about that now that mum is gone? How?!

I started crying. Just weeping from the thought, and from the realisation of how much I miss mum...

I woke up and found myself really crying, really missing mum...

painstaking process

It's that period of time again, when I have to go through that painstaking process of studying for my exams.

I'm not sure why, but every time I cannot disassociate the process from my mother and what she said to me before she passed away. She wants me to succeed, she wants me to pass, she sees me being successful and...

And I end up crying.

Who knows why I end up crying?

I can't describe it, I can't explain it.

I'm not trying to hark back to the past, to the days when mum spoke softly and encouraged me over the phone.

But it would be so comforting, so warming to hear her speak and listen to her soft motherly words again.

It would do wonders for my morale. It would boost my confidence and stop me going crazy and crying...

In the end, I just bite the inside of my cheeks hard, taste my own blood. It's the only way I know I can feel. It's the only way I can remind myself I am hurting. It's the way I can think of to stop myself from crying and kick myself back to what I am doing.

Upset

I just collapsed into bed and fell asleep as soon as I got home. Tired, and extremely upset.

The second (or third?) time in as many days, somebody "poured cold water in my face", and said my efforts trying to balance work and studying is "useless" and that I should not complain of fatigue. It really got me in a foul mood, and just dragged me deep down (to be fair the person has since apologised through a message). Should have come home and studied, but instead I just put my books to the side and closed my eyess.

I really just hate it to be told that what I do is not valuable work. Sure, I may not be making much money, but finally I have been on a roll and am enjoying the research and writing aspect of my job. Finally, after over a year at my job, I am beginning to feel somewhat important and valued by my colleagues, especially my boss who dropped by earlier today and told me again how he wishes to see me go into a doctorate programme.

Over the past few months, I've edited three volumes that will be published. It's no easy feat, took hours of sitting down and reading through hundreds of pages  of sometimes poorly written work of others. And I took on a project to write a chapter on a topic that was of interest but that I knew little about. and at the same time, I've had to also try to study for an exam in January, and now another onecoming up in less than ten days. All the while, I've had to content with poor health and also the emotional upset of going home and commemorating my late parents.

It's been a stressful few months, and made worse by the fact that my beloved homeland, with each passing day, seems to descent more and more into chaos and ruin. The worry I feel

I'm looking for praise or sympathy, but just some recognition and understanding is enough to make me feel I'm doing something instead of make me feel (as I do now) I'm wasting my life and my time doing useless work.

I am tired. But seems like I have no right to complain because (as someone said) I chose to do these things, and working as a lawyer is nothing compared to the level of work I do now. That may be true, but it just seriously undermines all that I do. And to add salt to injury, today someone came by while I was studying and told me it's pointless to study now because I'll never finish and understand everything till the exam.

What a thing to say to someone trying his best to study and juggle work!

Again, I have to say, it is times like this I wish I had my parents, or someone close, who can be encouraging and speak to me softly, who can empathise and give me a (metaphoric) pat on the back and remind me I am doing ok. My boss seems to think so, he seems to be someone who remembers what I have struggled with and gone through over the past few years, but why does it seem like nobody else does?

Just because I have a smile on my face does not mean Im not hurting still or feeling pain.

Am I just too soft and can't just dismiss people's comments? Should I toughen up and be even more uncaring, like people seem to become when they enter the professional track?

I should probably just suck it up. Or dismiss these people who have no clue what I am going through. Either that, or I will torture myself with echoes of their words and lack of compassion.

Maybe I am just a small boy who is still hurting inside and trying to heal in  a world where people seem to out to get you and walk over you because you are easy to push down.

"Can't take that away from me..."

Compassion.
Understanding.
Love.
Kindness.

It goes so far, it can heal and do so much.
There are moments I close my eyes and imagine myself being surrounded by all that.
By the goodness of human beings, by the compassion and understanding and good-will of my fellow people. 

But why do they seem to be so lacking in the world?
Why does the world need to be so hard, so harsh?

I refuse to give in to hatred, yet I torture myself with self-doubt and biting my fingers, allow myself to be downed by the careless words of people out to belittle you.
I refuse to give into hatred for the one simple fact I know it begets hatred, and the cycle will not end.

If I use hate and anger to deal with all that I have faced in my life till this day, my dear god, I would have probably killed someone by now. If I used hate and pain and hurt to retaliate the people who have hurt me, my dear god, I would probably be a bitter, bitter and broken person.

But who says I am not one already?
Who says I am sane and happier because I am (overly?) sensitive to events, people and goings-on around me?

Dismissive

Crying

Erosion

For the past week or so, I've been sleeping at such irregular hours. Three, four, and last night five in the mornig, each night (or morning) sleeping for only five or six hours or less. It can't be healthy, I know it. I feel it. There's only so much the body can take working so much abd staying up so late everyday.  

But I've just been awash with work. Projects keep coming, ironically because I'm good at what I do and have earned ny boss' confidence. Then I took on a friend's request to review his thesis, all three hundred pages of it. Then I took on a project to write a chapter for a book about a topic I knew little about (EU and sustainable aviation) but was fascinated in researching on. And I've not mentioned my exam in exactly two weeks' time, for which I have studied only a little. 

The days go by, as do the nights , so quickly. Another dag gone, and at the end of it; what have you really accomplished? Where am I going? What have I really done in the past year, in my life time (till now)? I feel my life, and that force of life within me being eroded day after day...

And I am so afraid of one day waking up and realising I have squandered my life away on nothing worthy of mention.

What rubbed salt to injury was one day when I was telling someone about what I feel  and how little I sleep these days, I was told not to complain. 

It's as if complaining is alright by others, just not me.

As if voicing my feelings about being overwhelmed by life, work and emotions is not allowed because I have a smile on my face most of the time and have it easy now that I don't have to deal with death and illness of my parents any more.

At night, when all is quiet outside, when I am alone, I sit and feel myself sink and ready to cry. Nighttime  is my quiet moment, moment to let emotions of t he day sink down and allow myself to breathe.

Contrary to what people may think, I still feel this great big sadness inside. I just have no one with whom I can share my emotions anymore, especially after a number of times when I tried to express my feelings I get a dismissive response (or no response at all). I get so close to tears because I feel so isolated and alone. And in that isolation, I feel more the pain of loss and the absence of my parents...

Is it just me being difficult, or is it so hard to find people who can sympathise and who can understand these days?

Missing them

I feel myself falling again.
I feel my moods capture me and pull me down.

The tears, the sadness, the emptiness returning again.

It will not last.
It will not last.

I must remind myself it will not last...

Even the crying will not last.

"It's hard to just keep goin
It's like I feel empty inside without you bein here
I would do anything man, to bring you back


It's kinda hard with you not around
Know you in heaven smiling down
Watching us while we pray for you
Every day we pray for you
Til the day we meet again
In my heart is where I'll keep you friend
Memories give me the strength I need ... to proceed
Strength I need to believe
My thoughts Big I just can't define ...
Wish I could turn back the hands of time "

Sleeplessness

I lay in bed and could not sleep.

An intense emotion overcame me a flood of imagery flowed through the darkness and before my eyes.

I could see my mum.
I could see my dad.

I could see them and felt like they were around me.

I missed them.
I missed missing them.

I cried.

Empty home

Finally, the flat mates who have been staying with me for the past 12 days left an hour or so ago.
I felt a sigh of relief. The house is all the more quieter now. I am free to go and do whatever I want, and no longer have to be cooped in my room, where I have had to cramp my desk so I could work at night.

But now, I somehow feel so empty inside. Empty, and used.

It's not that I expect anything in return for helping a friend and his family in times of need.
But to what extent do you go to help someone and "sacrifice" (or forgo, to sound less dramatic...) your own comfort and freedoms? When does generosity become foolishness and a reason to be used and exploited?

I've had to put up with blaring music early in the morning, blaring music even in the evenings. My room's been entered into, the heating is turned up to the maximum throughout the apartment. And I just got a notice from my internet provider to say that somehow I exceeded my limit last month, and that only 6 days into the new calendar month, I have already gone past 50% of my limit.

My friend left earlier, and I helped carry their belongings to the car.
I received blessings, and was told how kind I am and how grateful I am.

But sometimes mere words cannot really compensate for anything.
It's not about the money, not entirely.
But if you bothered someone and took your family to go stay with a friend for 12 days, would you not offer to contribute something, especially if you fully have the means to do so?
I would feel so ashamed... But then that may be just me, someone who would rather "lie" and say I have a place to stay at already and go stay in a hotel than bother someone for even just one night.

Then again, maybe I'm being unfair to my friend. He's been going through a lot, and his family member is difficult to deal with. Perhaps the last thing on his mind is how to "repay" me.

for the moment, I just feel like I've been taken for granted once again. Like my house, like so many times before, is a place people can seek refuge when they need help. Like I am the fool to will take any body in and not demand anything in return.

As colleagues have said to me, there is a point when nice is being too nice. And then you are just a fool.

Room mates

It's been over ten days now since a friend and his mother moved into my apartment. They had a fire (and some other complications) and  had no place to go. So I took them in,  hoping to provide shelter to friends in need. It's not the first time, as I have had four other people stay over at my place (the longest for seven months...) over the past fice years or so. My place has become an asylum, and butt of jokes of sorts.

I really wanted to help and offer my place up to friends in need. But the situation is more complicated by the fact that my friend's mother is somewhat difficult to live with because she has a condition that causes her to react erratically. So I feel tensions at home, and for the past several days have  purposely avoided coming home too early so as to avoid using the kitchen. And the last thing I want is to come home and have dinner already cooked for me. I am just not comfortable with that. Even when staying with my mum while she was relatively well I didn't like her to cook for me and have dinner waiting for me.

And I noticed every day someone goes into my room. I know who it is, but am I going to confront the person, especially if the person is not totally sound? I know someone's been in there because my door is opened and the heating is turned on full blast, something I never do. I just detest the heat and stuffiness. So I come home everyday, for the past week or so (with the exception of three days in Vegas) and I feel violated that someone's been in my room and played with my heating . Is it trivial? Maybe. And when I asked about the heating the other day, the auntie said she didn't do anything.

 I now lived in the cramped space of my bedroom, with a desk squished in so I can do some work at night. There's dirty laundry everywhere as I  don't even use the washer because there is simply no place to hang my clothes to dry. my friend and his mother have taken over most of the space in the apartment. Even the kitchen is just full of their belongings, making me feel so disinclined to go in there and cook. And my food and fruits have been disappearing. To my frustration, the honey I have and use every day to make tea with is empty now.

I know my friend has things and problems of his own, especially having to fibd a place at short notice, and I admire, truly, the respect and love and care he shows his mother. But I feel like my offer of help when they are in need has just been taken for granted. Not that I want anything in return. But just a little appreciation that i live there too, and that it's my house and not to go into my room is enough. 

Either that , or I am becoming very petty and selfish. 

One more day, and they are gone.
It's been long enough.

For the past thirteen days, hundreds of students have been holed inside the Taiwanese parliament building, while thousands more have been sitting outside government offices in downtown Taipei. Their demand is simple: they are against "black box" politics, whereby the discussions leading up to the drafting and adoption of a trade pact that would impact millions of livelihoods, and potentially the very autonomy of the nation, is completely intransparent and lacks accountability. They are against a government that refuses to engage in dialogue, that refuses to respect the democratic process and the rule of law, and that seems completely oblivious to the demands of the common people. They want an article-by-article review of the law and a renegotiation of a trade pact that even to ardent free-trade economists baffles logic. Why would any country willingly open up its doors to another which, with its sheer market size and much lower costs of labour and prosicution, be able to swamp the economy with cheap and substandard products and services? Why would Taiwan, technically still at war with its goliath neighbour China, which has thousands of missiles pointed toward it and even vowed to invade and "liberate" the island, freely allow Chinese money to come into sectors vital to the country's security and sovereignty, like telecommunications and the media? The trade pact has (rightly) been labeled as a secret deal by a pro-Beijing government in power which aims to deliver the island nation to Beijing on a golden platter. It goes in line with China's long term ambition to turn Taiwan into another Hong Kong, but with economic and market measures and without the firing of a single bullet.

The actions of these tudents have been dubbed the "Sunflower Movement", named after the flower that seeks sunlight, inspired by the hope that transparency and acountability can shed light on the actions of the government. Contrary to how theyare portrayed in pro-government and-China media, they are not an unruly mob bent on destruction and turmoil. They are a group of well-organised and vocal youngsters who, like their counterparts in the streets of Cairo or Kiev, fear their country and their futures are disintegrating under the rule of autocracy and corruption. They enjoy the support of a wide swath of society, from fishermen to farmers to small- and medium-size business owners, who are the backbone of Taiwan's export-based economy, and who, spearheaded the country's "economic miracle". The students also enjoy the support of trade unions,  lawyers, doctors, celebrities and members of the academic community. Their actions, though some may term illegal, is an expression of their freedom of their desperation and frustration, an expression of the hardearnee freedom to assemble and protest. The strongest hurdle is against a ruling party that owns a majority seats in parliament, and a the president (who The Economist has called a "bumbler") who enjoys a meagre 9% of popular support.  

According to a poll, over two thirds of the population want an article by article review of the trade pact, if not a complete renegotiation of the terms so that Taiwan can enjoy a more level playing field when it comes to free trade and opening up its economy.  

Songs of the Wanderers

There are not many moments that you are proud to be Taiwanese. who cares or even knows about this tiny little island in the shadow of a goliath? This shunned pariah caught in the excesses of superpower politics? Who knows about the history of a people being passed from one coloniser to another, and not being able to voice or mould ones own future and destiny?  

 But then, out of nowhere comes this deep and unique sense of humanity, of humanness, this sense of beauty, warmth and depth that I cannot describe but is recognised and praised around the world-- as evidenced by a full house and loud applause and a standing ovation lasting close to five minutes. It fills your heart with such pride, such feelings of nostalgia and "home". 

Songs of the Wanderers is a piece that has toured the world for two decades, often to sold-out performance houses wherever it goes. It is perhaps Cloud Gate Dance Theatre's most famous piece, renowned for the simple use of falling grains of rice (three tonnes of it....) through the entirety of the performance. A monk stands there, stilll and calm as a tree reistant to the wear of the weather, with his hands in prayer before his chest. Rice grains keep on falling, and the stage is filled with the constant rustling sound of the yellow grains as they fall and fly and cascade onto piles on stage. At times, there are sudden showers of rice, falling like waterfalls on the stage. Dozens of dancers, wearing simple grabs and wielding sticks, resembling primitive men and women, tread and move elegantly on the fallen grains of rice. Their slow and beautifully choreographed movements are contrasted at times with frenzied  thrusting of their bodies and flinging of rice all over the stage like rain drops during a wild summer storm.   

Set to the music and chanting of Georgian monks, the piece is not long, but describes the wanderings of a lonely monk. Inspired by Herman Hesse's Siddhartha, and choreographer Lin Hwai Ming's own journey to the place of the Buddha's enlightenment, it speaks of human beings quest for that "something" beyond our daily lives. That "something", whether tranquility, inner peace or contentment, is to be found by wandering.  

  

330 demonstration

Over twelve days since students occupied Taiwan's parliament. Today will be the biggest day of protest, with over hundred thousand people expected from all over the country.
 but the police and special forces have also amassed. Six thousand strong. ministries and the presidential palace have all been surrounded by barbed wires and it looks like a hihhtened alert zone. Media reports it has not looked like this since the Martial law period, and that was over two decades ago.


Has Taiwan's democracy and peoples power deteriorated to twenty years ag? What is to become of what has always been held up as the model in Asia for human rights and freedoms?
 I am worried about outbreak of violence and more bloodshed.

The students and lead demonstrators have urged calm and called for a sitin. But I am afraid there are agent provocateurs or government forces who want to provoke violence and create an excuse to crack down and instate a state of emergency.

I'm deadly afraid...

I pray for peace and dialogue, for wisdom and understanding.
 May my country and my people come out of this unscathed and stronger and more together than ever before...

Final stages

Last year, while going through the depths of my mourning period I met a friend whose mum was in the final stages of her illness. We connected and got to know one another, and coping techniques, through the illness that caused so much pain and grief to our loved ones, and to us.

I've not seen the person for months, and suddenly today, I got a call and then message saying that his mum is in her final days. My heart went out to this person and it was as if in that moment my heart sank, I felt his sadness and pain. Is-- the ability to feel or at least empathise with another fellow being's feelings-- not this what makes us feel, what makes us compassionate, what makes us human?

I shared with him how I coped, what made me strong, what made me go through it all. He said he can't imagine how hard it must have been for me and how I managed to get by.

Thinking back, I cannot believe how I got by either.
With the support of wonderful medical staff at the hospice, with the presence of my brother, my nephew, with the visits of mum's friends and relatives. With the beliefs of Buddhism that nothing is ever permanent. Nothing...

I told my friend to be strong, to be there with his mum as much as he can, to hold her and touch her and show her that she is loved.

Because nothing else, in the end, matters.
 Nothing else.

People who have not experienced death or seen it in their face cannot understand this.
But I believe my friend understood very well what I meant.

Nothing else matters.
Not the trivial things that we get worked up about.
Not the rivalries and jealousies that hijack our hearts.
Not the that temporary  feeling of elation after hurting someone intentionally or out of spite.
In the end, there should be just love, just the realisation that at the end of one's life nothing else matters except true love, undying love.

I think he felt somewhat comforted, but I could also sense that he is dealing with a lot of heavy emotions, and that this heaviness will sure mount and remain for the period that is still to come.
After  care-giving, after watching a loved one deteriorate to bone and skin, after watching helplessly as someone suffers,  there is no reprieve. The mourning, the loss, the emptiness is of ,an intensity that (at least for me personally) was multiple times more unbearable and unfathomable. And to this day, I am still trying to cope.

To this day, even if people do not ask, even if people seem to have forgotten, I still struggle to hold back tears and my emotions.

The final stages of cancer is a painful process.
But it can be smoothed out with compassion, love and the presence of loved ones and friends.
And I am glad, after experiencing this all, something good came out of it. And that is the ability to listen, to share my expriences, and to be there for another who is yet to start on this very painful, difficult and often lonely road ahead.

Dark night...

For so long,  I cried because of my mum and dad. How I have missed them so, longed for them since they went away. I have lost them, I can no longer see them and can never be by their side...

Tonight, I shed tears for my country and for people.

It feels so painful to watch the people beaten, to see such brutality you would never ever imagine after thirty years of the thriving democratic process, peaceful protests and bloodless coups. Once a symbol and model of democracy in Asia, once a bastion against tyranny and censorship and champion of freedoms in a region of the world too used to despots and autocracies, Taiwan has become so tainted with the blood shed by government and police cracking on the skulls of young protesters...

Free press has been silenced with the deletion youtube videos uploaded by protesters showing policemen (with their insignia deliberately and illegally blacked out or removed...) coming down on unarmed civilians  with brute force...

The government and certain pro-China MPs scoff at the students and brag how "easy" it was to remove them from the streets...

And certain pro-China and pro-government media outlets deliberately destort the news by (accounting to one account) deliberately knocking down trash cash so they can show footage of turmoil and destruction...

But there is hope still.... How can we not have hope?
Students and professors across the island call for strikes.
People are donating money to buy ads to place in influential international news media.
Doctors, lawyers, celebrities are coming out and denouncing the violence perpetrated by the government.
Municipal elections (God forbid they be banned or manipulated...) At the end of the year are a sure way for people to strip the ruling of its influence and clout in the five major metropolitan areas.

The people are angry!
The people are vigilant and wary.
The people are watching!

Before, I cried because of the mother, the father I have lost.

Tonight, I shed tears for the beloved country I am losing.

22 March 2014

The crackdown....
It has begun.

The "president" came on tv yesterday and announced his resolve not to back down. He refused to talk to students or protesters. He insisted he has the nation's future and best interests at heart.

Today, hours ago, protesters stormed the Executive yuan (executive body). Armed police, for days they stood by,  started to beat protesters. With batons and shields. There are bloody images of beaten students and protesters. People have been taken to hospital. 
I
t's gruelsome. It's unbelievable.

It's a dark, dark day for Taiwan.

When was the last time police beat people? Why does it remind people of oppression in the 1980s, during the era of martial law?

Why does it conjur up what my aunt told me when, during her childhood, she saw people taken away... saw blood flow like river?

I am shaken by events unfolding in Taiwan. My homeland. My one last love.
To watch a loved one slowly drift away is so painful. To watch a loved one rot from within makes you so helpless.

God bless my nation... God protect the people from tyranny and oppression and brutality.

318 Occupation

 Arab Spring in Egypt and Tunisia, Kiev's Independence Square, streets of Bangkok... and now, streets of Taipei.


I cannot believe what I am seeing. An impromptu uprising by students who stormed Taiwan's parliament and for the past 70 something hours have barricaded themselves and camped inside the building. Riot police and security forces have been called in from all over the country. Amnesty International has called for calm.

This is happening... How big is this going to be? How long is it going to last?

The people are outraged. And they have good reason to. A incompetent president president (The Economist called him a "bumbler"...) with just 9% of approval rating leading a strong majority in parliament somehow believe they can speak on behalf of the people. A pro-China regime which somehow believes it can act on behalf of the people (85% of whom do not support unification or any kind with China...) believes it can within a matter of seconds "enact" law to ratify a treaty that would flood Taiwan with cheap and substandard services from China and allow Chinese investments and manpower to enter vital industries, such as transportation, health, banking, insurance, computers and telecommunications...

What is the government thinking? Too overcome with power, too obsessed and charmed by China to think straight and think for the good of my homeland and its people? How can a government so un-democratically impose its will as the will of the people?

A slogan has been circulating "When dictatorship becomes reality, Revolution is our duty" (Victor Hugo). The people are angry. Students are angry. And these are not just hot-headed hooligans out to vandalise and destroy. Are they hooligans if one of the first things they did is establish a "ground rule" for occupying parliament and make it known to all that they will not loot or destroy anything (intentionally)? Do hooligans, within hours of entering parliament, establish a recycling system to sort out their wastes?

These students, together with opposition politicians and increasingly people from all over the country, have ideals and love the country. THey want to have a future where they and their children do not have to fear for their jobs and security because Chinese people have swarmed the country like locusts. They demonstrate peacefully and sit-in because they do not wish to live in a world where food is poisoned, products are shoddy because they come from China. They want to live in their own country, speak their own language, speak their minds and not fear persecution or detention (or worse). Taiwanese people fought years of oppression under Martial Law (the world's longest, lasting from 1947-1987). Taiwanese people went through a bloodless transition from a dictatorship to a model democracy, one of so few in Asia. They cannot go back again... they cannot go back to living under the yoke of tyranny, the oppression of dictatorship, and rule of man and obligarchs of industry and politics. They cannot. They simply cannot.



God bless the people of Taiwan, and their right to speak, their right to demonstrate and to rise up against injustice and undemocratic processes.

God bless freedom, justice and intrinsic values of self-determination and mutual understanding and dialogue.

May this demonstration be a peaceful, bloodless one. May there be wisdom and williness to build bridges and make amends in times of great division and discord.

God bless my homeland... my beautiful, beautiful homeland...

Plane landing

I stayed up till late, past three in the morning, mainly to work. But as I was working, I followed a plane till it landed safely after an almost 10 hour flight.

I do this always when members of my family are flying, something I starting doing as a child whenever my parents flew. We always flew long distances, almost always between Europe and Taiwan.

Today I followed the plane on satellite maps and online and even subscribed to the airline's web instant messaging system to keep me updated. They're not my parents, but parents of someone else, a friend. But still I care about their wellbeing. And in the aftermaths of a plane that has just "disappeared" (MH370) without a trace now for over 10 days, there is even more cause for concern.

They landed safely, i saw that. And now their wonderful tour around the world and long awaited vacation has begun.

As I laid down tonight, and grabbed the Winnie the Pooh bear that was once given to me for my birthday in the year my mum passed away, I don't know why I suddenly felt this pain and loneliness again.

I thought I was doing well.
I really did...

The pain never really goes away. The tears never really dry up. I am again reminded of those moments, those precious moments with mum, with dad.... Those moments of goodbye, moments of greeting at airports and stations...

No longer must I worry for their wellbeing or welfare. I worry and think of other people now, people who are not my parents, because I no longer have parents.

But all I have no, at four thirty in the morning on a work day, are moments in my memories, and this sense of longing and emptiness.

In San Jose

200214.1150 SJC time 

The flight was relatively smooth, and went by quickly with doses of Japanese movies. It was a relatively uneventful flight, but I am again in awe of the 787 Dreamliner and it's beautiful raked wings and of how quiet it is.

Landed over three hours ago, and spend almost an hour waiting to go through immigration (the Chinese were questioned for prolonged periods of time, whereas the Japanese and this Taiwanese lady just in front of me were greeted with much more courtesy...), and another hour waiting for a nonexistent hotel shuttle. So tired by the time I got to my motel (no h-), and ravishing as breakfast was light and several hours ago.

Here I am at McDonald's, the only thing in sight and within walking distance, especially as I am too tired to head to downtown San Jose. At least at this moment.

Time to rest a bit after my meal.... I just hope I don't sleep all the way through, like last time I was in Los Angeles for an overnight transit,  and miss the opportunity  to explore San Jose.

BR2198

200214.1528

Another goodbye, another trip home about to draw to an end. What a strange trip it has been, being so terribly sick and lying around most of the days I've been here. The illness has really affected me, for I am so tired and still suffering from terrible chest pains whenever I breathe...

My cousin insisited on coming with me to the airport, and together we rode the taxi there just as the sky was brightening. She's been very supportive these past few years, even before mum passed away. She was there throughout the caregiving process, she saw and knew how exhausted before and traumatised I was afterwards. She understands also, because she's a trained nurse. She understands also because she's been through similar misfortunes and hurdles and aches in relation to love and finding a mate, so she knows the feeling of loneliness and longing. Luckily, she seems to have found someone stable and committed now.

I was, to be honest, too tired to feel. Between running to meet and greet another cousin who works at the duty free to calling all the relatives and people I feel endebted to and always thank and bid farewell, I was sweating profusely once I got on board the plane. The night before, brother's loud, loud snoring woke me up every hour or so, meaning sleep was terribly disrupted. The alarm was set for 540, taxi pick up at 600. I quietly rechecked my belongings and bags and woke up my brother and sisterinlaw to say goodbye. Brother accompanied downstairs, and I told him to take care of his health and be well. 

As much as I wanted to wake him and hug him in my arms, I let my nephew sleep. He's become such a beautiful and energetic kid. So full of life, laughter and joy, he's a darling to the heart, but also can be such a handful and very demanding. Yesterday, his mum left to go to the bookstore, his dad went to the movies, and I was left with mg nephew for over an hour at this kid's playground. We played ball and balloons a bit, then when he noticed there was an "auntie" there with her daughter, he wouldn't play with me anymore. When I tried to take his hand he'd tell me to go upstairs or run away to this auntie. Quiet a character. Back in the hotel room, I peeled loquat for him and he was all over me and hugged my legs. Abd we played cars (most of which he'd really wrecked and torn pieces.. he's got the destructive streak, and looks and tenpernent, of his father...). He refused yo slep and sat up in bed for a while while his mum slept already. He looked at me, in the other bed, and was so intrigued by me for a while before he lay down and curled his little body next to his mum. Dad did not come home until later...

like a zombie I boarded the plane. It was a Hellot Kitty plane , Happy Music Time, bit I was so tired I could hardly get excited, and slept almost as soon as the plane too off. I did wake up for the meal, a special order  of the famous dumplings and chicken soup from 1 Michelin star restaurant Din Tai Fung. The service was impeccable, as always. 

It was like a dream... Coming back home, falling ill and being bed bound, and then the final few days running around trying to meet people and buy things, and going to see my parents. How sad I was yesterday, and here I was flying away , soaring into the heavens and leaving behind the country with so many people and things I treasure and love. Land disappeared beneath thick clouds, but soaring advice the cloud cover were these snowcapped peaks and majestic mountains. 

Farewell, my homeland...

Farewell...

Birthday eve

200214.2324

Birthday eve

What an honour (in a wei...) to be asked for ID on the eve of my thirtieth birthday! Sat down at a Japanese restaurant I found on urbanspoon, and saw it was almost the end of happy hour, sake for only $2! I showed the waitress, a lovely middle aged Japanese lady, my ID and said I'm turning thirty tomorrow. She laughed and after dinner brought  me a bowl of green tea ice cream with a cherry on top.

I wandered around streets of San Jose after dinner. It's a quaint small city, with a large Mexican and Japanese population. In the heart of silicon valley, it is naturally relatively new and  extremely wealthy and has a very well connected public transport network. 

I walked around, and began to feel a bit lonely. My coughing is still there, and I feel  this bad pain in my head (which, as the evening progressed, got worse and made me dizzy...). A homeless man, probably not much older than me greeted me, and asked for a quarter. I apologised, and walked by slowly, noticing that he had a rugsack of his belongings and cage with what I believe is a cat inside. He wished me goodnight. I really wanted to turn around and get him some food, or offer him something, but I did not...

I walked past a cinema, and was interested seeing something light to cheer me up (ie distract me from my own thoughts...) Just so happens the Lego Movie was about to start soon, so I went in and made myself comfortable.

It's a surprisingly good and lighthearted movie, just what I needed and wanted, and made entirely out of Lego bricks. I grew up playing Legos, and my very first one was a set of a small fort in the ocean, which came with three men. It later expanded to a robin hood castle, and various other items that made my collection grow. There was a phase of several years I was obsessed with building tall things, like a tower. I would build something as high as possible, and have different levels with landing ports for my small collection of plastic  planes and helicopters to land on. It was such an age of creativity and sense of achievement (except when the tower came tumbling down!). Something about the permanent smile on the Lego figurines has always been so endearing. I even had four figurines who I nomainated to be members of my family. They would ride around in my model trains or in the planes that I would try to build (this was another phase of my teenage years, building planes or at least machines that could fly...) The fact that these figurines were always together, always happy looking and always smiling was a contrast to reality of my family and what I wanted my family to be...

And the Lego movie emphasised this very aspect of creativity and joy to be had with existing blocks and collections. Anyone can be a "master builder", anyone can create new things and innovate and live out their fantasies. What a way to relive memories on the last day of my second decade on this world.