My grand ma was born in the capital city of Kwangtong over a hundred years ago. On the day of her birth, her biological mother passed on. In those days, there was no formula milk. The family was not wealthy enough to hire a wet nurse. She was given away to a peasant family nearby.
It turned out that her adopted family loved her. When she was ten years old, her natural brother came to redeem her. If she had nodded her head, she would be bought back to be a part of her biological family. She would have had a chance to be educated. Her birth family was middle-class and they were Christian. When China fell to communist hands, her biological brother went to Hong Kong. My grand ma actually visited him on her trip back to Canton to visit her relatives. By now, he must have passed on as he was older than my grandma. It seemed that there were two step-sisters. One of them was a teacher and the other one was a bible woman - what we call the full time worker in our churches here.
My grandma was a run away lamb, she herself chose to be a pagan. Rightfully, she should have a Christian heritage. However, her eldest son and his family are practising believers now. My mum, who is the younger daughter, now prays about her deepest concerns at night when she cannot sleep. No, you won't caught her dead in church. She is scared that once she steps into church, she would have to hand over money to the over fed leaders and pastors. I, of course, do not hold to such views. What God wants, is her love, trust, obedience and fellowship, money is really the least of God's concerns.
Some where in this big, wide world are possibly a few descendants of this grand uncle. If word of mouth is accurate, those step sisters were unmarried and childless.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
(436) The two worlds
There is one universe that all mortals share. But there are multiple private worlds that each mortal owns. Here I propose to contrast what I perceive of two vastly different worlds.
This blog arises from my comment to my husband,"Agatha Christie saw the world differently from others!" Being married to a mathematically minded person, I have learned to qualify my every statement.
The first person I have chosen is a fictitious character: Mrs Ariadne Oliver from Christie's books. Some may see her as Christie's alter ego. Here I do not claim that. Neither do I deny that. It is simply the fact that I know too little to comment.
The second person is a good friend I have known since my student days. I am still in touch with her. We shall call her Sheryl.
Mrs Oliver's world seemed to revolve around the creation of detective novels that brought her fame that she found hard to deal with in public. As a notable authoress, she could not live the life of a recluse. Through her association with Hercule Poirot, she actually experienced the excitement of hunting for murderers. She may seem scattered, yet her brain was crystal clear. She may seem fussy, but actually she is very ready and game to get into trouble and fall headlong into life threatening adventures.
Now we move onto Sheryl's world. She is a spoilt youngest child in a big family. Between her and the second last sibling, there was a big gap. Her parents were almost through with child rearing then and left her largely on her own. She grew up mainly with friends and school mates. She was like an ugly duckling that turned into a swan in her college years. She caught her prince, so she thought. But the reverse is true. It was really her prince who contrived and caught her. After a whirlwind romance, the lucky couple settled down to wedded bliss.
Here I step onto rather thin ice, if both parties decided not to have children or one is barren, the marriage would not have soured. And so the fun world of my Sheryl turned into a dungeon of torture. There are many party girls I have known and enjoyed their company of. Fortunately none of them chose highly intellectual and serious husbands.
There is nothing wrong with having a view of the world as fun and game, provided one manages to keep it light and easy. Some of my party friends are still single and enjoy the freedom of an unstructured life. One or two did get married to men with good sense of humour. It is OK to share a life together if both can find similar things to laugh about.
The redeeming factor of Sheryl's life is that there is no lack of vitamin K. It is fortunate that she has enough cash to pursue the excitement of expensive food, beautiful clothes and entertainment. Mrs Oliver could be a widow? Or maybe she was a divorcee, but she was not haunted by the dark part of her life.
This blog arises from my comment to my husband,"Agatha Christie saw the world differently from others!" Being married to a mathematically minded person, I have learned to qualify my every statement.
The first person I have chosen is a fictitious character: Mrs Ariadne Oliver from Christie's books. Some may see her as Christie's alter ego. Here I do not claim that. Neither do I deny that. It is simply the fact that I know too little to comment.
The second person is a good friend I have known since my student days. I am still in touch with her. We shall call her Sheryl.
Mrs Oliver's world seemed to revolve around the creation of detective novels that brought her fame that she found hard to deal with in public. As a notable authoress, she could not live the life of a recluse. Through her association with Hercule Poirot, she actually experienced the excitement of hunting for murderers. She may seem scattered, yet her brain was crystal clear. She may seem fussy, but actually she is very ready and game to get into trouble and fall headlong into life threatening adventures.
Now we move onto Sheryl's world. She is a spoilt youngest child in a big family. Between her and the second last sibling, there was a big gap. Her parents were almost through with child rearing then and left her largely on her own. She grew up mainly with friends and school mates. She was like an ugly duckling that turned into a swan in her college years. She caught her prince, so she thought. But the reverse is true. It was really her prince who contrived and caught her. After a whirlwind romance, the lucky couple settled down to wedded bliss.
Here I step onto rather thin ice, if both parties decided not to have children or one is barren, the marriage would not have soured. And so the fun world of my Sheryl turned into a dungeon of torture. There are many party girls I have known and enjoyed their company of. Fortunately none of them chose highly intellectual and serious husbands.
There is nothing wrong with having a view of the world as fun and game, provided one manages to keep it light and easy. Some of my party friends are still single and enjoy the freedom of an unstructured life. One or two did get married to men with good sense of humour. It is OK to share a life together if both can find similar things to laugh about.
The redeeming factor of Sheryl's life is that there is no lack of vitamin K. It is fortunate that she has enough cash to pursue the excitement of expensive food, beautiful clothes and entertainment. Mrs Oliver could be a widow? Or maybe she was a divorcee, but she was not haunted by the dark part of her life.
Monday, May 30, 2011
(435) Mothers-out-law
Forty years ago, one mother-in-law was holding her beloved grandson. She was having a quarrel with her daughter-in-law. While many neighbours came out to watch, only one man came to help when the old lady was pushed close to a storm drain. I dare not imagine what would happen if the good samaritan did not stop the fight. The storm drain was wide and a good seven feet deep. There were sharp edges and hard cement sides.
Today, the mother-in-law had passed away many years. The daughter-in-law of yester year has aged. She in turn became a mother-in-law to her son's wife. Interestingly, the woman who detested her husband's mom moving in with her would today go to her son's house to care for the new grand son. Not only the young couple did not invite her and did not give her an allowance. She actually had to bring her own food every Sunday evening for the next five week days.
When the time comes for her to be sent away, would she then realize the pain she caused forty years ago to someone else had finally come around to settle on her?
Today, the mother-in-law had passed away many years. The daughter-in-law of yester year has aged. She in turn became a mother-in-law to her son's wife. Interestingly, the woman who detested her husband's mom moving in with her would today go to her son's house to care for the new grand son. Not only the young couple did not invite her and did not give her an allowance. She actually had to bring her own food every Sunday evening for the next five week days.
When the time comes for her to be sent away, would she then realize the pain she caused forty years ago to someone else had finally come around to settle on her?
Sunday, May 29, 2011
(433) People of means
The other day Veron and I was having a discussion about young mothers. We happened to know two wives of medical doctors. Although both the men are not full fledged specialists yet, both possess great earning potential.
Dr. Aaron married Amelia while Dr. Denny married Denise. Amelia has two sons while Denise has two daughters. The interesting part is that both women are homemakers but do not have full time maids. Amelia places great emphasis on disciplining her sons. Denise seemed to be flummoxed by her changeling second child. It was a complete paradox: Denise's elder daughter is of such a sweet nature that the difficult second one seemed to be a total opposite. But I suppose we can't choose what characteristics for babies like we shop by mail order directory.
Veron made a very shrewd observation: Amelia gave up her profession to bring up her kids. She even found space and time to house her husband's grandpa when he was being treated in a nearby hospital. Her husband is a very blessed man as she is very independent, capable and she has his best interest at heart.
We can't say the same for Denise. After she delivered her elder girl, she actually started on her law degree. While number two the changeling was an infant, she had to chamber for a few months before being called to the bar. Why, we ask each other, does the wife of a doctor need to strive so hard to be qualified? Does she really need to practise for her personal satisfaction? After all, as long as her husband is working, she will be well supplied for the rest of her life. If she does not intend to practise, then all the hard work spent getting that piece of paper displayed on the wall is not justified. Well, this is a classic case of an over killing in self actualization.
Dr. Aaron married Amelia while Dr. Denny married Denise. Amelia has two sons while Denise has two daughters. The interesting part is that both women are homemakers but do not have full time maids. Amelia places great emphasis on disciplining her sons. Denise seemed to be flummoxed by her changeling second child. It was a complete paradox: Denise's elder daughter is of such a sweet nature that the difficult second one seemed to be a total opposite. But I suppose we can't choose what characteristics for babies like we shop by mail order directory.
Veron made a very shrewd observation: Amelia gave up her profession to bring up her kids. She even found space and time to house her husband's grandpa when he was being treated in a nearby hospital. Her husband is a very blessed man as she is very independent, capable and she has his best interest at heart.
We can't say the same for Denise. After she delivered her elder girl, she actually started on her law degree. While number two the changeling was an infant, she had to chamber for a few months before being called to the bar. Why, we ask each other, does the wife of a doctor need to strive so hard to be qualified? Does she really need to practise for her personal satisfaction? After all, as long as her husband is working, she will be well supplied for the rest of her life. If she does not intend to practise, then all the hard work spent getting that piece of paper displayed on the wall is not justified. Well, this is a classic case of an over killing in self actualization.
(432) BoneMan's Daughters by Ted Dekker
Ted Dekker is one of Elizabeth's favourite authors. I must have read his books before. But I don't remember any of his books before this one. Perhaps if I can see the covers of his earlier books, I would remember.
It is a tightly woven thriller that kept me glued to the pages. It is not the violence that I like, but rather the plot, the characters of the main players and the psychology that are fascinating. Books on serial killers are commonly available. This one, however, is unusual because it involved a repentant father. In real life, I find some men very short sighted. I do not mean myopia, which can easily be corrected by glasses. I have come across a few who married unsuitable women but stuck to their marriages stoically throughout their lives. Unfortunately, such noble sacrifice does not endear them to their spouses and children.
Ryan Evans, the father in this book, escaped from his mistake of marrying the wrong woman by consecutive combat deployments in overseas theatres. His wife, enjoys the ease of having an absentee husband who kept her and her adopted daughter in the lap of luxury. After a series of affairs in the fifteen years she spent bringing up her daughter, she finally came close to catching her illusive perfect mate: the district attorney who is a womanizer. If BoneMan did not murder them, perhaps the socialite and the philanderer might have made the perfect couple of the year, at least on poster.
The book ends with the repentant father, who almost gave his life in exchange for his adopted daughter's, reunited and reconciled with the apple of his eyes. Thanks to the executions in the dessert that brought out his latent love for his daughter.
It is a tightly woven thriller that kept me glued to the pages. It is not the violence that I like, but rather the plot, the characters of the main players and the psychology that are fascinating. Books on serial killers are commonly available. This one, however, is unusual because it involved a repentant father. In real life, I find some men very short sighted. I do not mean myopia, which can easily be corrected by glasses. I have come across a few who married unsuitable women but stuck to their marriages stoically throughout their lives. Unfortunately, such noble sacrifice does not endear them to their spouses and children.
Ryan Evans, the father in this book, escaped from his mistake of marrying the wrong woman by consecutive combat deployments in overseas theatres. His wife, enjoys the ease of having an absentee husband who kept her and her adopted daughter in the lap of luxury. After a series of affairs in the fifteen years she spent bringing up her daughter, she finally came close to catching her illusive perfect mate: the district attorney who is a womanizer. If BoneMan did not murder them, perhaps the socialite and the philanderer might have made the perfect couple of the year, at least on poster.
The book ends with the repentant father, who almost gave his life in exchange for his adopted daughter's, reunited and reconciled with the apple of his eyes. Thanks to the executions in the dessert that brought out his latent love for his daughter.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
(430) An extraordinary person
After I attended the funeral service, I went to a nearby clinic to use the rest room. It was a mission clinic started by a foreign doctor in the 1920s. At that time it was the only clinic in the vicinity.
The area prospered years later. Nobody took over at some point as there was no longer any need for a charity clinic. Lately a local called by God restarted it. He was a poor lad who some how managed to go abroad and worked his way through his medical course. There was no scholarship to be won at that time. He waitered, washed dishes, gardened, cleaned houses, shoveled snow, ... worked at any menial job so that he could continue to study.
After he returned home, he worked for the Government for many years. Later he worked overseas, earning twenty times what he used to in his home country. In the third part of his life, he restarted this ministry. I am surprised that the church who allowed him to use the premise did not contribute any money or medicine to his work. For the poor we shall always have with us, in any town. Globalization brought many foreign workers to the area. Once again, there is such a need for a doctor with a golden heart. I salute this couple, who in their golden years chose to follow Christ to serve the needy. It is very sad that in a big and prosperous town, no other doctor would step in to help when they go away for short breaks. They have no choice but to close the clinic. We indeed need more people like them in all parts of the world.
The area prospered years later. Nobody took over at some point as there was no longer any need for a charity clinic. Lately a local called by God restarted it. He was a poor lad who some how managed to go abroad and worked his way through his medical course. There was no scholarship to be won at that time. He waitered, washed dishes, gardened, cleaned houses, shoveled snow, ... worked at any menial job so that he could continue to study.
After he returned home, he worked for the Government for many years. Later he worked overseas, earning twenty times what he used to in his home country. In the third part of his life, he restarted this ministry. I am surprised that the church who allowed him to use the premise did not contribute any money or medicine to his work. For the poor we shall always have with us, in any town. Globalization brought many foreign workers to the area. Once again, there is such a need for a doctor with a golden heart. I salute this couple, who in their golden years chose to follow Christ to serve the needy. It is very sad that in a big and prosperous town, no other doctor would step in to help when they go away for short breaks. They have no choice but to close the clinic. We indeed need more people like them in all parts of the world.
(428) Short Term Memory Loss
My cousin's father is turning eighty this year. He had been frail the past year. A few months after the last hospitalization, he regained his health. Lately my cousin found that he was beginning to be forgetful. What do we do when we are faced with an aged person's declining short term memory?
I can think of three possible reasons: 1. growing old - the inevitable decline 2. Senile dementia 3. Alzeimer's disease Of the three, an early diagnosis and quick intervention of no. 3 could buy some time and limit the ravages of the disease by whatever current medical science could do.
But in this case we all know the root cause: the poor old man was left at home alone all working days with no one to talk to. His wife chose to run over to her son's to care for the only grand daughter from Monday to Friday. Perhaps the family has to address this issue and move either the apple of the grandparents' eyes to the old man or being equally creative, move the old man to be with his wife on weekdays.
To implement either solutions, problems would crop up. Would the parents be willing to commute daily? Is spending more on petrol an impossible thing? Or would it be unacceptable to leave the old couple's house untenanted on week nights? What are our priorities? If everyone agrees that it is important to keep grandpa's mind alert and sharp for as long as possible, then changes are inevitable.
Incidentally, this old man's biological elder sister's short term memory has deteriorated to the extent that within the period of eating lunch (about half an hour), she asked who brought the ten pieces of fried chicken four times.
I can think of three possible reasons: 1. growing old - the inevitable decline 2. Senile dementia 3. Alzeimer's disease Of the three, an early diagnosis and quick intervention of no. 3 could buy some time and limit the ravages of the disease by whatever current medical science could do.
But in this case we all know the root cause: the poor old man was left at home alone all working days with no one to talk to. His wife chose to run over to her son's to care for the only grand daughter from Monday to Friday. Perhaps the family has to address this issue and move either the apple of the grandparents' eyes to the old man or being equally creative, move the old man to be with his wife on weekdays.
To implement either solutions, problems would crop up. Would the parents be willing to commute daily? Is spending more on petrol an impossible thing? Or would it be unacceptable to leave the old couple's house untenanted on week nights? What are our priorities? If everyone agrees that it is important to keep grandpa's mind alert and sharp for as long as possible, then changes are inevitable.
Incidentally, this old man's biological elder sister's short term memory has deteriorated to the extent that within the period of eating lunch (about half an hour), she asked who brought the ten pieces of fried chicken four times.
Friday, May 27, 2011
(425) One old lady 3
Mary Po Po has a younger sister. Whenever I visited and found the former out, I had to leave a message with the latter. Prior to this, I had little contact with a recovered mental sufferer. Slowly, I found that she was normal but could be slighted easily. In other words, she had to be handled with the due care given to a spoilt twelve year old.
Apparently thirty years ago she was happily married to the only son of a merchant in a small town. Unfortunately, after fifteen years of marriage, she was barren. Her father and mother-in-law held the family purse string tightly. They decided that her husband should marry a younger woman to sire an heir. In those days, Chinese marriages were by tea ceremony (all relatives drink tea offered by both the bride and groom). Divorce was by a letter written by the husband or the father-in-law. In this case, the husband refused to sign. But he was not financially independent and was a coward. The mother-in-law threw the barren woman out of the house.
Ordinarily, a rejected barren woman would return to her parents' home. By the time this poor woman was driven from her marital home, her parents were dead. I seemed to remember that the father died from a stroke and the mother died of TB. Her few brothers were either too poor or too unkind to take her in. In the end she lived with a distant relative and lived on whatever little she could earn by finding odd jobs in an agricultural community. Years of neglect, out right rejection, sexual harassment from any lecherous man intent on evil and the hopelessness drove her to the asylum.
While all these fateful events were played out, Mary Po Po was facing her own struggles. Her husband died young. In order to survive, Mary Po Po boarded her two young children with her aunt and she worked as a cook for the German engineers in a hydroelectric project in a distant town. Apart from brief meetings and a little allowance that a poor widow could spare for her youngest sister, there was little else she could do.
It was a tragedy! Yet all these happened and there was no happy ending. The cowardly husband who could not stand up to his tyrants took two wives (subsequent to the kicking out of the first one), one after the other. The second wife run away. The third one stayed but all the days of his life, there was no children. I can't help but wonder if he was the sterile one. Three women's lives were ruined because of this one spineless man and his parents' desire to have heirs. sad, isn't it?
Apparently thirty years ago she was happily married to the only son of a merchant in a small town. Unfortunately, after fifteen years of marriage, she was barren. Her father and mother-in-law held the family purse string tightly. They decided that her husband should marry a younger woman to sire an heir. In those days, Chinese marriages were by tea ceremony (all relatives drink tea offered by both the bride and groom). Divorce was by a letter written by the husband or the father-in-law. In this case, the husband refused to sign. But he was not financially independent and was a coward. The mother-in-law threw the barren woman out of the house.
Ordinarily, a rejected barren woman would return to her parents' home. By the time this poor woman was driven from her marital home, her parents were dead. I seemed to remember that the father died from a stroke and the mother died of TB. Her few brothers were either too poor or too unkind to take her in. In the end she lived with a distant relative and lived on whatever little she could earn by finding odd jobs in an agricultural community. Years of neglect, out right rejection, sexual harassment from any lecherous man intent on evil and the hopelessness drove her to the asylum.
While all these fateful events were played out, Mary Po Po was facing her own struggles. Her husband died young. In order to survive, Mary Po Po boarded her two young children with her aunt and she worked as a cook for the German engineers in a hydroelectric project in a distant town. Apart from brief meetings and a little allowance that a poor widow could spare for her youngest sister, there was little else she could do.
It was a tragedy! Yet all these happened and there was no happy ending. The cowardly husband who could not stand up to his tyrants took two wives (subsequent to the kicking out of the first one), one after the other. The second wife run away. The third one stayed but all the days of his life, there was no children. I can't help but wonder if he was the sterile one. Three women's lives were ruined because of this one spineless man and his parents' desire to have heirs. sad, isn't it?
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
(424) Funeral
My husband and I attended a funeral of his colleague's father. It was a grand occasion. There were two school bands in attendance. Money was donated to thirty two worthy organizations. The deceased spent thirty odd best years in his life teaching in a few Chinese medium elementary schools.
It was not a sad event. From the eulogy of the deceased's student who had a head of silver hair, we felt that it was a celebration of a disciplined and diligent life spent in educating the young and bettering our society through education. Years ago teachers were greatly respected. Teaching was a noble profession. Now everybody who is anybody has children who are medical doctors, lawyers, engineers and accountants. Very few parents and children would consider teaching as first choice. It is quite common to hear of parents who went to their children's schools to argue, quarrel or insult the teachers. In one or two cases things end up in the police station.
Therefore it is gratifying to know that in that particular family there are three generations in the teaching profession. There is yet hope in our schools if there are more families like that.
It was not a sad event. From the eulogy of the deceased's student who had a head of silver hair, we felt that it was a celebration of a disciplined and diligent life spent in educating the young and bettering our society through education. Years ago teachers were greatly respected. Teaching was a noble profession. Now everybody who is anybody has children who are medical doctors, lawyers, engineers and accountants. Very few parents and children would consider teaching as first choice. It is quite common to hear of parents who went to their children's schools to argue, quarrel or insult the teachers. In one or two cases things end up in the police station.
Therefore it is gratifying to know that in that particular family there are three generations in the teaching profession. There is yet hope in our schools if there are more families like that.
(423) First week away from home
I hitched a ride to a college town two hundred Km from where I live. My friend drove there to help her son move. It was a treat zooming along a highway with lots of greenery on both sides. Distant mountains were blue. I enjoyed the ride tremendously.
My friend's son was moving from East Shore to West Shore. We went to his old dormitory called Shanghai. I based myself downstairs in the public area. There were four rooms, each with attached bathrooms. The social area is not only small, there is only a tiny window next to the main entrance. Students were expected to cook, eat, and socialize in that confine area ventilated with one tiny exaust fan. No wonder once a person finds his footing, he no longer wants to live in a barrack style hostel.
That was orientation week. One new student walked in while I was keeping an eye on possessions in transit. She smiled at me brightly and introduced herself. After telling me that she is a new student who moved in yesterday, and she was afraid and lonely in a strange building away from her few friends; she went to take a shower. Then she popped out like a genie and sat next to me. We chatted while watching TV. It was a silly teen program featuring really young teens in outrageous clothing and hairstyle. Meanwhile, my friend and her son was transferring stuff from room upstairs to my area, and when enough was moved down, then they were taken to the car outside.
As soon as everything was moved successfully to the new apartment, they came back for me. When my charming new girl was given a chance to meet a senior on the second floor, she jumped up to run upstairs. Then I realised that her wallet was on the dining table next to her chair. Well, she is barely seventeen, I told myself I cannot expect her to have everything together. But she better learn fast. Before we left, my friend's son took the wallet up to the chatting girls.
How would Elizabeth fare, when she arrives in USA or China? I pray that there will be angels to look after her.
My friend's son was moving from East Shore to West Shore. We went to his old dormitory called Shanghai. I based myself downstairs in the public area. There were four rooms, each with attached bathrooms. The social area is not only small, there is only a tiny window next to the main entrance. Students were expected to cook, eat, and socialize in that confine area ventilated with one tiny exaust fan. No wonder once a person finds his footing, he no longer wants to live in a barrack style hostel.
That was orientation week. One new student walked in while I was keeping an eye on possessions in transit. She smiled at me brightly and introduced herself. After telling me that she is a new student who moved in yesterday, and she was afraid and lonely in a strange building away from her few friends; she went to take a shower. Then she popped out like a genie and sat next to me. We chatted while watching TV. It was a silly teen program featuring really young teens in outrageous clothing and hairstyle. Meanwhile, my friend and her son was transferring stuff from room upstairs to my area, and when enough was moved down, then they were taken to the car outside.
As soon as everything was moved successfully to the new apartment, they came back for me. When my charming new girl was given a chance to meet a senior on the second floor, she jumped up to run upstairs. Then I realised that her wallet was on the dining table next to her chair. Well, she is barely seventeen, I told myself I cannot expect her to have everything together. But she better learn fast. Before we left, my friend's son took the wallet up to the chatting girls.
How would Elizabeth fare, when she arrives in USA or China? I pray that there will be angels to look after her.
(421) Honesty
The other day my husband was waiting in a mall for his client. A lady walked past and pointed to a piece of paper next to his feet. He picked it up. It was a twenty dollar bill. As he was thinking whether he dropped the note while pulling his wallet out, a shop assistant told him that the note belonged to an Indian man looking at cameras opposite the passage way.
My husband, who is as honest as the day is long, walked over and returned the money to the rightful owner. But I was deducting, why did not the shop assistant call out to the Indian man before my husband practically stood on the note? Perhaps he was waiting for my husband to walk off so he could pocket the money himself? Pardon me for being suspicious.
My husband, who is as honest as the day is long, walked over and returned the money to the rightful owner. But I was deducting, why did not the shop assistant call out to the Indian man before my husband practically stood on the note? Perhaps he was waiting for my husband to walk off so he could pocket the money himself? Pardon me for being suspicious.
(420) Reverse Culture Shock 2
Now we look at a family of five who had lived on the highlands of New guinea for ten years. They are missionaries involved in language work. It was quite a shock moving from an "advance country" to a place that was then not too far from stone age amenities. But, it was harder to return to their home country. They could not get used to the hustle and bustle of city life. Traffic jams were foreign to them. The air pollution, the haze and the heat did not help.
While they were away, our country had advanced again. They saw other cars queued and then one by one was let passed the barrier. From their point of view, each driver placed his palm against a box. So they drove over and tried that. But the barrier did not lift. It was just as well that there was no other car behind them. Else they would not know what to do.
Later they learned that just about every driver owns a prepaid card that the box deducts payment from. They had a good laugh at themselves. They have spent ten years learning the ways of nature and a simple way of life. Meanwhile, their country had undergone ten years of development and westernization. When the time drew near to return to their adopted land, they were more than ready and happy to go.
While they were away, our country had advanced again. They saw other cars queued and then one by one was let passed the barrier. From their point of view, each driver placed his palm against a box. So they drove over and tried that. But the barrier did not lift. It was just as well that there was no other car behind them. Else they would not know what to do.
Later they learned that just about every driver owns a prepaid card that the box deducts payment from. They had a good laugh at themselves. They have spent ten years learning the ways of nature and a simple way of life. Meanwhile, their country had undergone ten years of development and westernization. When the time drew near to return to their adopted land, they were more than ready and happy to go.
(419) Reverse Culture Shock
I have a friend who went abroad a few years for further studies. After her graduation she immediately married her sweetheart in college. Since the groom came from a neighbouring country, she became a permanent resident there.
Twenty years later, the entire family relocated back to her home country for business reasons. It was of course a matter of adjustment for everyone concerned. But it was amusing to note that my friend was the one who found it the most difficult to settle. We would think that it would have been easier for her to get used to her birth country. After all, shouldn't it be whatever the gap is, our country would be part of us and the culture flows in our blood? Apparently not!
Here is an interesting incident to show you her shock. One day she went to the bank. As she was walking back to her car, the man in front of her dropped a wad of notes. Looking at the thickness and the denomination, she can tell at a glance that it was more than a thousand dollars. Before she could react, another man rushed past her and picked it up. He then turned to her and said in even tone,"Fifty - fifty?" She continued walking, speechless! I suppose her body language and facial expression denoted disgust! The dishonest man laughed and said " You are stupid!" and walked off quickly within seconds. She could not yell, she could not say any thing. Within minutes, both men were out of sight.
When I met her the next morning, I could still see that she was upset and the shock might have lessen but it had not completely dissipated. She kept on saying "What would that first guy do after he found his loss?" Well, that's life, baby! He would learn a lesson that may be tough but necessary: one needs to take good care of one's hard earned cash. We cannot expect perfect honesty of our fellow man in a third world culture.
Twenty years later, the entire family relocated back to her home country for business reasons. It was of course a matter of adjustment for everyone concerned. But it was amusing to note that my friend was the one who found it the most difficult to settle. We would think that it would have been easier for her to get used to her birth country. After all, shouldn't it be whatever the gap is, our country would be part of us and the culture flows in our blood? Apparently not!
Here is an interesting incident to show you her shock. One day she went to the bank. As she was walking back to her car, the man in front of her dropped a wad of notes. Looking at the thickness and the denomination, she can tell at a glance that it was more than a thousand dollars. Before she could react, another man rushed past her and picked it up. He then turned to her and said in even tone,"Fifty - fifty?" She continued walking, speechless! I suppose her body language and facial expression denoted disgust! The dishonest man laughed and said " You are stupid!" and walked off quickly within seconds. She could not yell, she could not say any thing. Within minutes, both men were out of sight.
When I met her the next morning, I could still see that she was upset and the shock might have lessen but it had not completely dissipated. She kept on saying "What would that first guy do after he found his loss?" Well, that's life, baby! He would learn a lesson that may be tough but necessary: one needs to take good care of one's hard earned cash. We cannot expect perfect honesty of our fellow man in a third world culture.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
(418) Miscommunication
Long before the advent of e-mail and hand phones, young people made appointments to meet. Some times things went well, people turn up and had a good time together. Other times, things went wrong.
Consider:
1. Amy called Betty, they arranged to meet in McDonald's at Galleria(a shopping centre). Amy went on time and waited. Betty turned up ten minutes late and waited. Half an hour went by, Amy walked to a public phone to call Betty's home. But Betty left forty five minutes ago. So Amy thought Betty was detained somehow on the way, she waited for another twenty minutes and left in a huff. Betty, on the other hand, was impatient, she waited for fifteen minutes only. But because she was ten minutes late, she was upset that Amy stood her up. She left, angry.
What actually happened is that Amy waited at the McDonald's inside the shopping centre. Betty, on the other hand, went to the drive in outside of the shopping centre. They were waiting at different places. Both were at fault, they were vague about the place of meeting. Neither foresee the confusion. Such miscommunication will test the friendship. I wonder if they will arrange to meet each other again?
Consider:
1. Amy called Betty, they arranged to meet in McDonald's at Galleria(a shopping centre). Amy went on time and waited. Betty turned up ten minutes late and waited. Half an hour went by, Amy walked to a public phone to call Betty's home. But Betty left forty five minutes ago. So Amy thought Betty was detained somehow on the way, she waited for another twenty minutes and left in a huff. Betty, on the other hand, was impatient, she waited for fifteen minutes only. But because she was ten minutes late, she was upset that Amy stood her up. She left, angry.
What actually happened is that Amy waited at the McDonald's inside the shopping centre. Betty, on the other hand, went to the drive in outside of the shopping centre. They were waiting at different places. Both were at fault, they were vague about the place of meeting. Neither foresee the confusion. Such miscommunication will test the friendship. I wonder if they will arrange to meet each other again?
(416) Max on Life by Max Lucado
This is my first review of an e-book. This particular volume is a non-fiction. It is made up of the most frequently asked questions and bible based answers written in a clear, concise and readable manner.I think of this book as a reference in the library. It came twenty five years too late for me. Why? It would have been of tremendous help to me as a new believer so many years ago.
In the more than a hundred questions answered in the book, I see many that have been asked by my family members and friends who do not know Jesus yet. I noticed questions that back slidden folks may ask before returning to any church. I must say that Max gave excellent and balanced and complete answers that I would never be able to provide.
The only complaint I have is the presentation. It is very academic looking. There is no illustration or pictures, at least not the e-book. I find it very unpalatable: it looks exactly like the low price edition of ten year series of model answers for the Mathematics examination in Cambridge Board. Helpful? Yes. Attractive? No!
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
In the more than a hundred questions answered in the book, I see many that have been asked by my family members and friends who do not know Jesus yet. I noticed questions that back slidden folks may ask before returning to any church. I must say that Max gave excellent and balanced and complete answers that I would never be able to provide.
The only complaint I have is the presentation. It is very academic looking. There is no illustration or pictures, at least not the e-book. I find it very unpalatable: it looks exactly like the low price edition of ten year series of model answers for the Mathematics examination in Cambridge Board. Helpful? Yes. Attractive? No!
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
(415) Near death experience
When I was young, my father was a junior clerk in a soft drink factory. It was a promotion from being the lorry attendant when my mum married him. We were poor. We lived in my maternal grandma's wooden house. There was enough food to go round, but barely.
My mum would take in clothes to wash and iron. Though she could make very little, that furnished my grandma's and her allowance. All the children's new year clothes came from that side income. I still remember my mum's charcoal iron with sizzling ambers glowing red in the guts of that heavy cage. Mornings we find her boiling her customers' white garments. Late afternoons and nights she would be ironing.
Even we kids had to work. There is a neighbour who lived behind us that manufactured coconut sweets. The entire family would be wrapping the little cylindrical sweets in colourful transparent paper before and after lunch. It was interesting to note that although I was the youngest, it was my duty to go collect as well as deliver the sweets. My grandma used to call me the unofficial lawyer of the family. I must have been very outspoken and a pain in other people's neck!
One afternoon, the sweets allotted to us had been duly wrapped and delivered. It was nap time. No one could remember the details. What happened was our neighbour walked into our house, passed the sitting area and walked through the long corridor and saw my legs up in the air struggling above the water holder. I was moments away from drowning in less than six inches of water. There were many people in that house. Apart from my immediate family, we had a family who were our tenants. The man of that family would have been at work like my father, but the mother and her three children should have been around.
Suffice to say that my time had not come, I was rescued by that neighbour. Years later, she related to me that I was already blue in the face. From that episode, I could see that though I was young, I was independent. Perhaps it was that streak of being reluctant to ask for help that almost did me in. It was a very peaceful time in the village. No one locked their front door during the day. If my front door had been locked, you would not be reading my blog today. My parents would have buried their precious three year old two days after the drowning.
My mum would take in clothes to wash and iron. Though she could make very little, that furnished my grandma's and her allowance. All the children's new year clothes came from that side income. I still remember my mum's charcoal iron with sizzling ambers glowing red in the guts of that heavy cage. Mornings we find her boiling her customers' white garments. Late afternoons and nights she would be ironing.
Even we kids had to work. There is a neighbour who lived behind us that manufactured coconut sweets. The entire family would be wrapping the little cylindrical sweets in colourful transparent paper before and after lunch. It was interesting to note that although I was the youngest, it was my duty to go collect as well as deliver the sweets. My grandma used to call me the unofficial lawyer of the family. I must have been very outspoken and a pain in other people's neck!
One afternoon, the sweets allotted to us had been duly wrapped and delivered. It was nap time. No one could remember the details. What happened was our neighbour walked into our house, passed the sitting area and walked through the long corridor and saw my legs up in the air struggling above the water holder. I was moments away from drowning in less than six inches of water. There were many people in that house. Apart from my immediate family, we had a family who were our tenants. The man of that family would have been at work like my father, but the mother and her three children should have been around.
Suffice to say that my time had not come, I was rescued by that neighbour. Years later, she related to me that I was already blue in the face. From that episode, I could see that though I was young, I was independent. Perhaps it was that streak of being reluctant to ask for help that almost did me in. It was a very peaceful time in the village. No one locked their front door during the day. If my front door had been locked, you would not be reading my blog today. My parents would have buried their precious three year old two days after the drowning.
Friday, May 20, 2011
(412) Learning Difficulties 18
Someone in the conference brought out the topic of autism. Long ago I had a brush with a case of Asperger's Syndrome.
While Keziah was in the kindergarten, I befriended her teacher. Till today, we are still friends even though we seldom see each other. She tutors slow students. Off and on she called me up to pick my brain on certain mannerism her students exibit. I may not be able to give her an immediate answer all the time. But answers do come, some times through books and magazines, people, talking to fellow teachers and tutors or some times I dream of related things and as soon as I woke up, the solution came in a flash. God is good, he gives wisdom to those who ask for it.
This kindergarten teacher is one of a few I have met who continues to learn into her gray hair years. I love her for it. So when she kept pestering me about a boy, I agreed to see him. After the initial assessment, I offered to accompany him to the public library half to one hour once a week Those days I haunted the children's library to source for teaching materials to educate my children. Therefore it was no hard ship babysitting him during my hours of book hunting.
It is true that he has good vocab, I discretely tested him through getting him to read out titles for me. But he refused to read. From day one I laid down the rules. He does not have to read, but he cannot leave my line of sight until he asked me for leave and told me how long it would take for him to return. He can talk to me softly but no yelling and disruptive behavior that would get him kicked out of the library. Throughout the few months I saw him, he behaved beautifully. I have absolutely no complaints. After a few weeks, he gave in. To pass time, he hunted for fun things to look at. Slowly I passed him things to read. He was caught with a puzzle book that is filled with pictures. That was the very first book he asked me for help to find out what author wanted him to do. Then came time to go home and he was reluctant to leave. After extracting serious promises from him at the dire warning of fines and the need to pay for a missing book, he was allowed to bring the book home on my membership card. After that, he was slowly but surely caught by the lure of books.
I think after about three to four months, instead of having a fidgety boy, I have a studious lamb quietly looking for books he likes or he could be intently reading. Then there was no longer any need to force him to go to the library with me. His parents were happy. His tutor was pleased. And I learned a few things about a high functioning autistic child.
While Keziah was in the kindergarten, I befriended her teacher. Till today, we are still friends even though we seldom see each other. She tutors slow students. Off and on she called me up to pick my brain on certain mannerism her students exibit. I may not be able to give her an immediate answer all the time. But answers do come, some times through books and magazines, people, talking to fellow teachers and tutors or some times I dream of related things and as soon as I woke up, the solution came in a flash. God is good, he gives wisdom to those who ask for it.
This kindergarten teacher is one of a few I have met who continues to learn into her gray hair years. I love her for it. So when she kept pestering me about a boy, I agreed to see him. After the initial assessment, I offered to accompany him to the public library half to one hour once a week Those days I haunted the children's library to source for teaching materials to educate my children. Therefore it was no hard ship babysitting him during my hours of book hunting.
It is true that he has good vocab, I discretely tested him through getting him to read out titles for me. But he refused to read. From day one I laid down the rules. He does not have to read, but he cannot leave my line of sight until he asked me for leave and told me how long it would take for him to return. He can talk to me softly but no yelling and disruptive behavior that would get him kicked out of the library. Throughout the few months I saw him, he behaved beautifully. I have absolutely no complaints. After a few weeks, he gave in. To pass time, he hunted for fun things to look at. Slowly I passed him things to read. He was caught with a puzzle book that is filled with pictures. That was the very first book he asked me for help to find out what author wanted him to do. Then came time to go home and he was reluctant to leave. After extracting serious promises from him at the dire warning of fines and the need to pay for a missing book, he was allowed to bring the book home on my membership card. After that, he was slowly but surely caught by the lure of books.
I think after about three to four months, instead of having a fidgety boy, I have a studious lamb quietly looking for books he likes or he could be intently reading. Then there was no longer any need to force him to go to the library with me. His parents were happy. His tutor was pleased. And I learned a few things about a high functioning autistic child.
(410) The Final Summit by Andy Andrews
I am grateful to Book Sneeze for supplying this book. While I would not run into the book shop to buy it, that is because it is not the normal type of books that attract me. I do learn many principles from it.
It is a very interesting concept to have many people from different times and historical periods to come together to find the one principle to save humanity. Boy, wouldn't I love to time travel, if that is possible! Imagine being able to meet my heroes and heroines from long ago!
Perhaps history is not normally my area of passion. I find the author's ability to bring out historical characters and have them talk convincingly precious. And it was surprising that after all the hoo ha, the answer is really deceivingly simple. No, I didn't think of it before I came to the last few pages. Isn't it odd that the long sought after solutions that elude capture are normally so common place and "easy"! Intrigued? Go and buy the book and find out for yourself.
Happy reading!
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
(408) Fried noodle seller
The other day I went to buy food for my mum and niece. The latter likes the fried noodle in my mum's favourite restaurant. Sad to say, he wasn't there. Since I was in a chatty mood that morning, I asked when he would come back
Apparently the answer is never. He has quarreled with every other hawker in the shop. In his previous stint, the shop owners had asked him to leave. In this case, the lady boss, who is a very pragmatic and hard working Foo Chow person, did not. This quarrelsome man left of his own accord.
I must have purchased food from his wife on and off for half a year or so. I was not aware that he had had bad relationships with his colleagues. Neither did I guess that he abused his wife physically and verbally. On the contrary I used to think the wife has a sweet and submissive nature. I did not notice bruises as in other cases of spousal abuse.
Obviously his departing is good riddance to everyone concern in the coffee shop. But I wonder if the poor wife would be worse off as the only means of livelihood for the moment is cut off. I hope he can find another place to set up business. After all, he could produce the best fried rice noodle this side of town.
Apparently the answer is never. He has quarreled with every other hawker in the shop. In his previous stint, the shop owners had asked him to leave. In this case, the lady boss, who is a very pragmatic and hard working Foo Chow person, did not. This quarrelsome man left of his own accord.
I must have purchased food from his wife on and off for half a year or so. I was not aware that he had had bad relationships with his colleagues. Neither did I guess that he abused his wife physically and verbally. On the contrary I used to think the wife has a sweet and submissive nature. I did not notice bruises as in other cases of spousal abuse.
Obviously his departing is good riddance to everyone concern in the coffee shop. But I wonder if the poor wife would be worse off as the only means of livelihood for the moment is cut off. I hope he can find another place to set up business. After all, he could produce the best fried rice noodle this side of town.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
(407) Upbringing 48
Quite some time back Elizabeth went through a detox. There after she faithfully takes the food supplements she chose. I do see some improvement in her milk allergies. But temperature change as a trigger became more noticeable. As she has only started all these in October last year, I can attribute it to healing crisis.
In the conference I heard from my friend who had been having sinus problems all her life some tips. I'll just repeat what I heard since I noticed there was a search on dyslexia and antihistamine. This friend of mine is in her fifties. She came from a family of teacher parents. As a child, in the morning she went to Chinese school and in the afternoon she went to an English school. She was an athlete. She started having sinus problem since she was young. It was traced to dust allergy and the root cause was dirty mosquito netting in her childhood home.
In her forties, her sinus became so bad that she was on antibiotics more often than she liked. Three days after one strong course, she would break out in fever again. Having no other choice, she went through an operation that she dreaded. It was successful. For the first time she could remember, she could breathe properly and her brain received sufficient oxygen. Right after the recovery period she noticed she could feel fresh with eight hours of sleep at night. It used to be she needed extra sleep but still felt run down and tired beyond words.
She recommended her Dr. to her boss and he found that medication alone prescribed by the ENT specialist took care of his problem. I decided that when Elizabeth leaves her law firm, I will take her to visit this competent and honest doctor. It is not normal for a young girl to need many hours of sleep and yet does not feel refreshed later.
In the conference I heard from my friend who had been having sinus problems all her life some tips. I'll just repeat what I heard since I noticed there was a search on dyslexia and antihistamine. This friend of mine is in her fifties. She came from a family of teacher parents. As a child, in the morning she went to Chinese school and in the afternoon she went to an English school. She was an athlete. She started having sinus problem since she was young. It was traced to dust allergy and the root cause was dirty mosquito netting in her childhood home.
In her forties, her sinus became so bad that she was on antibiotics more often than she liked. Three days after one strong course, she would break out in fever again. Having no other choice, she went through an operation that she dreaded. It was successful. For the first time she could remember, she could breathe properly and her brain received sufficient oxygen. Right after the recovery period she noticed she could feel fresh with eight hours of sleep at night. It used to be she needed extra sleep but still felt run down and tired beyond words.
She recommended her Dr. to her boss and he found that medication alone prescribed by the ENT specialist took care of his problem. I decided that when Elizabeth leaves her law firm, I will take her to visit this competent and honest doctor. It is not normal for a young girl to need many hours of sleep and yet does not feel refreshed later.
(406) Being "disconnected"
If you have taken the boring task of reading my early articles, you might have come across one that stated that I dislike receiving distress calls, especially late at night. As a result, there is no land line in my house. I don't own a hand phone either. When there is an extra hand phone in the house, I may check it once a day or once in two days. It is amazing that I still have friends at all in this metropolitan city or anywhere at all in the world.
If you think I am antisocial, that is inaccurate! I am merely restricting access to my private time. I have some very dear friends who pull out their hair over my lack of connectivity. But life's like that. If a person desires my friendship, she has to put up with this eccentric way. Most chose to pass me by, which is precisely what I want: more time to read, to write and to reflect on what I see around me.
Come to think of it, I have only received two such calls in my life. But it was bad enough. No more! Through one such call, I enabled a pair of students to reconnect and continue their "underground" love beyond their objecting parents. Happy to say, nine years after that fateful call, they brought their first child to visit me. I did not know they got married.
The second call resulted in a marriage saved. but sad to say, it was hardly a happy marriage. And after I saw the result of answering that call, I gradually took steps to dissociate myself from a phone line. A bit drastic, isn't it? But there is nothing wrong in other people having three hand phones in their pocketbook. A phone in my hand is not exactly a safe thing.
Now I know why all those years ago I took such a step.
1. I used to love talking on the phone, can you visualise a teen age me spending hours on the phone listening to folks so that I could analyse what they say.
2. I can not stop myself from "helping" people if they ask for my advice in a direct question. Yes, I am a busybody, unfortunately.
3. A good friend paid and transported me to a weekend course where I distinctly realized I am only a listener but not counselor material.
4. People do tell me all kinds of things. You won't believe what was said to me in airports and places where it was unlikely I would ever meet the person again. Now I tend to read or travel with companions.
It is very interesting to observe how people react when they first hear of the fact that I have neither land line nor hand phone.
If you think I am antisocial, that is inaccurate! I am merely restricting access to my private time. I have some very dear friends who pull out their hair over my lack of connectivity. But life's like that. If a person desires my friendship, she has to put up with this eccentric way. Most chose to pass me by, which is precisely what I want: more time to read, to write and to reflect on what I see around me.
Come to think of it, I have only received two such calls in my life. But it was bad enough. No more! Through one such call, I enabled a pair of students to reconnect and continue their "underground" love beyond their objecting parents. Happy to say, nine years after that fateful call, they brought their first child to visit me. I did not know they got married.
The second call resulted in a marriage saved. but sad to say, it was hardly a happy marriage. And after I saw the result of answering that call, I gradually took steps to dissociate myself from a phone line. A bit drastic, isn't it? But there is nothing wrong in other people having three hand phones in their pocketbook. A phone in my hand is not exactly a safe thing.
Now I know why all those years ago I took such a step.
1. I used to love talking on the phone, can you visualise a teen age me spending hours on the phone listening to folks so that I could analyse what they say.
2. I can not stop myself from "helping" people if they ask for my advice in a direct question. Yes, I am a busybody, unfortunately.
3. A good friend paid and transported me to a weekend course where I distinctly realized I am only a listener but not counselor material.
4. People do tell me all kinds of things. You won't believe what was said to me in airports and places where it was unlikely I would ever meet the person again. Now I tend to read or travel with companions.
It is very interesting to observe how people react when they first hear of the fact that I have neither land line nor hand phone.
Monday, May 9, 2011
(402) One old lady
When I was residing in Silver City, I used to walk to the morning market in Lion's Garden. To get to that market, we homemakers had to cross a busy road. What I would normally do was to wait with others and cross as a group. There I noticed an old lady who would not dare to cross. One morning I greeted her and asked if I could cross with her. She said yes. As soon as the group grew to four women, I held the old lady's arm and walked across the road with her.
There after I met her often and we became friends. My children and I referred to her as Mary Po Po because she lived near the Hospital called Mary (the mother of Jesus). Po Po means grand mother. That begun years of friendship. At that time I lived in a big house with little furniture. She made a note of that and started to look for free furniture for my family. I saw it as she was trying to help us. Actually we just relocated from a city 200 miles away and did not bring but half our furniture with us. So on most days she would drop by and give me a mango from her tree or some small item her neighbour gave her. Then I would give her wild boar meat that my care group leader gave me. You see, our leader hunts wild boar as a hobby.
After a while I realised that she was living on one hundred dollars with her mentally unbalanced sister. Her daughter bought the little hut she was staying in and took care of water, electricity as well as phone bills. No wonder she planted all kinds of vegetables in her little garden. She was really sharing her two mites with me, a virtual stranger from the big city. I felt very bad as at that time my husband had a well-paying job. We may live frugally but we were not poor at that point. While I could not refuse her gifts, I contrived very hard to repay her one way or another. To me, I may give her a pound or two of lean wild boar meat once a week. It actually did not cost me a cent. But she placed great value on the meat as she could hardly afford to buy meat on $3 a day to feed two adults. Hence she came often to give me fresh chives, spring onions from her garden, she gave us her first papaya from her new tree too. When she saved up enough money to cook a desert called yam cake, we would be given a big piece. I find that try as I might, I cannot out give her. she was thoughtful, caring and most generous. The interesting part is that she was living way below the poverty line. In spite of that, she was happy and contented with her lot in life. And every second of the day she was looking out at how she could be of help to her friends and neighbours.
Come to think of it, up to the time that I met her; I have never known anybody like her. Nor have I found anyone else like her since. It was six years since I moved away from Silver City, I seldom thought of her. All I know is that she moved in with her daughter after her son-in-law passed away. The next trip I make back to Silver City, I should look her up. Wonder if she is still alive?
There after I met her often and we became friends. My children and I referred to her as Mary Po Po because she lived near the Hospital called Mary (the mother of Jesus). Po Po means grand mother. That begun years of friendship. At that time I lived in a big house with little furniture. She made a note of that and started to look for free furniture for my family. I saw it as she was trying to help us. Actually we just relocated from a city 200 miles away and did not bring but half our furniture with us. So on most days she would drop by and give me a mango from her tree or some small item her neighbour gave her. Then I would give her wild boar meat that my care group leader gave me. You see, our leader hunts wild boar as a hobby.
After a while I realised that she was living on one hundred dollars with her mentally unbalanced sister. Her daughter bought the little hut she was staying in and took care of water, electricity as well as phone bills. No wonder she planted all kinds of vegetables in her little garden. She was really sharing her two mites with me, a virtual stranger from the big city. I felt very bad as at that time my husband had a well-paying job. We may live frugally but we were not poor at that point. While I could not refuse her gifts, I contrived very hard to repay her one way or another. To me, I may give her a pound or two of lean wild boar meat once a week. It actually did not cost me a cent. But she placed great value on the meat as she could hardly afford to buy meat on $3 a day to feed two adults. Hence she came often to give me fresh chives, spring onions from her garden, she gave us her first papaya from her new tree too. When she saved up enough money to cook a desert called yam cake, we would be given a big piece. I find that try as I might, I cannot out give her. she was thoughtful, caring and most generous. The interesting part is that she was living way below the poverty line. In spite of that, she was happy and contented with her lot in life. And every second of the day she was looking out at how she could be of help to her friends and neighbours.
Come to think of it, up to the time that I met her; I have never known anybody like her. Nor have I found anyone else like her since. It was six years since I moved away from Silver City, I seldom thought of her. All I know is that she moved in with her daughter after her son-in-law passed away. The next trip I make back to Silver City, I should look her up. Wonder if she is still alive?
(401) Zelda's testing
Remember Zelda? she went through a few months of testing. Funds dried up. Deals just came in when bills were almost overdue. The car broke down. She had to borrow money to pay for her son's college tuition. Some days she was so low in funds that she literally survived on the odds and ends left in her fridge. Since she did not mind eating left overs, I was able to supply her with a meal or two when she was really in need. But I want to emphasize that she never went hungry. Seeing and praying with her very often, I can testify that she had to depend on God. Throughout the past few months, she did not have anything more than six hundred dollars cash at any one day after her one-month mission trip to London. Anyone may become insecure with these circumstances but she chooses to count herself fortunate enough to be sifted like wheat flour. If she cannot learn to depend solely on God at home, how can she survive by faith in a foreign land?
On Sunday, she received a cheque ear-marked for her proposed six month stint.( Even though she planned on 3 months, the mission organisation strongly advised one year, so they compromised on six months.) The cheque brought not a big amount, but enough to be seed money for part of the air-ticket she asked God about. She remembered I prayed for her last week about the release of funds from her contacts, friends, clients or church members. I thought about it and nailed it down to last Thursday night. I actually asked specifically that the holy spirit will speak to these people of means. On Friday, the kind donor was finalising her accounts and decided to give the amount she set aside to Zelda. Zelda and I knew that this was a direct answer to our prayers. It means the second trip is on. We praise God for the prompt confirmation.
Just a note of update for those readers who are wondering about the foreign student Zelda and friend brought to Life Group and Church. He proved to be a consistent hard worker. His boss is very happy to schedule his working hours around his classes. He went to meetings faithfully and is grateful to God for enabling him to study here on limited means. I personally think that it is no shame that he is ambitious enough to want to better his future away from his war torn country. Of course those who would rather see him go back to his home country could pray about that. It is not unusual to find some nationalists feeling threaten by potential immigrants whom others term as economic refugees.
Read also (749), (361), (383), (487), (520), (994), and (9).
On Sunday, she received a cheque ear-marked for her proposed six month stint.( Even though she planned on 3 months, the mission organisation strongly advised one year, so they compromised on six months.) The cheque brought not a big amount, but enough to be seed money for part of the air-ticket she asked God about. She remembered I prayed for her last week about the release of funds from her contacts, friends, clients or church members. I thought about it and nailed it down to last Thursday night. I actually asked specifically that the holy spirit will speak to these people of means. On Friday, the kind donor was finalising her accounts and decided to give the amount she set aside to Zelda. Zelda and I knew that this was a direct answer to our prayers. It means the second trip is on. We praise God for the prompt confirmation.
Just a note of update for those readers who are wondering about the foreign student Zelda and friend brought to Life Group and Church. He proved to be a consistent hard worker. His boss is very happy to schedule his working hours around his classes. He went to meetings faithfully and is grateful to God for enabling him to study here on limited means. I personally think that it is no shame that he is ambitious enough to want to better his future away from his war torn country. Of course those who would rather see him go back to his home country could pray about that. It is not unusual to find some nationalists feeling threaten by potential immigrants whom others term as economic refugees.
Read also (749), (361), (383), (487), (520), (994), and (9).
Sunday, May 8, 2011
(400) Who are we?
One elderly lady told me that she does not refer to herself as a Christian. She much rather calls herself a follower of Christ. Immediately I saw what she meant. Many people have something against Christians in general because of what one Christian in particular did. For those who were hurt or taken advantage of, the word "Christian" rankles. They see all Christians as hypocrites.
From experience, there are two types of churches. One is the traditional, well established church that holds millions of dollars in Fix Deposits. The other is a church that clears all money collected at Dec 31. Surplus funds is given away to worthy causes. While the latter type acts in a more biblical manner, there is still some short comings. I have spent more than ten years worshiping in the former type of church. Now I worship in the latter type. I sense that while I was in the former church, the leadership was always on the look out for people willing to serve. The church does not lack funds. Now, money seems paramount. Earlier, the fact that I was a homemaker did not seem to count against me. Now, I sense those who earn good money, thus able to tithe more, definitely possess better standing in church. I know that in Jesus' eyes, he sees me as equal to all others. But, I can't expect the same from pastors and leaders.
Another thought is: the church in China (they do not spend money on church buildings) ought to be able to do mighty things. For I see the shop lot churches in newer areas continually scrounge around to raise fund to buy more shop lots to expand. And the sad part is that such expensive buildings were only used at most three times a week: Sunday Celebrations, Saturday Youth meetings and week night prayer meetings (each lasting no more than 4 hours).
From experience, there are two types of churches. One is the traditional, well established church that holds millions of dollars in Fix Deposits. The other is a church that clears all money collected at Dec 31. Surplus funds is given away to worthy causes. While the latter type acts in a more biblical manner, there is still some short comings. I have spent more than ten years worshiping in the former type of church. Now I worship in the latter type. I sense that while I was in the former church, the leadership was always on the look out for people willing to serve. The church does not lack funds. Now, money seems paramount. Earlier, the fact that I was a homemaker did not seem to count against me. Now, I sense those who earn good money, thus able to tithe more, definitely possess better standing in church. I know that in Jesus' eyes, he sees me as equal to all others. But, I can't expect the same from pastors and leaders.
Another thought is: the church in China (they do not spend money on church buildings) ought to be able to do mighty things. For I see the shop lot churches in newer areas continually scrounge around to raise fund to buy more shop lots to expand. And the sad part is that such expensive buildings were only used at most three times a week: Sunday Celebrations, Saturday Youth meetings and week night prayer meetings (each lasting no more than 4 hours).
(399) Good deeds?
A speaker in church happened to mention about symptoms people displayed before disappearing from church. One of them is not coming to Sunday Celebration. As my buddy missed two Celebrations, I took the trouble to find out why. Normally I would take it that anyone could be unwell for one Sunday and went away out of town the following Sunday.
Apparently he was "flying below the radar". A few months ago, he met a family walking in his housing area to the bus stop. Since he recognised them as members of our church, he stopped to pick them up. After finding that they did not own a car, he offered to take them home as well. And he regularly provided transportation for this family.
All went well until the man of the family borrowed a hundred dollars from the kind driver. The way my friend saw it, a hundred is a small amount. Yet he was becoming wary. After all, he has a job and he has his commitments. So does the man of this family. It is not how much we earn but how we learn to live within our means. In a way, my friend does not even expect repayment. But he is concerned about possible future requests.
I view the whole thing differently. If someone approaches me for even fifty dollars, I would point out nicely that I only have about sixty dollars in my wallet on a weekly basis. If I were to loan it to anyone, my family would end up eating white rice and tuna fish every day. (I happen to have more than ten cans of tuna fish in my larder.) That is why I would not loan money to anyone. Not because I am unwilling, but because I don't have extra. Moreover, what I fear most are those who borrow small amounts and return them promptly. After building up a good and steady track record of borrowing and returning, one fine day that person may ask for a big amount and then disappear. The best course of action would be to refer such requests to the church committee. Should the reason for such a request be valid, then the church would be able to help.
It is sad that an attempt to be helpful backfires.
Apparently he was "flying below the radar". A few months ago, he met a family walking in his housing area to the bus stop. Since he recognised them as members of our church, he stopped to pick them up. After finding that they did not own a car, he offered to take them home as well. And he regularly provided transportation for this family.
All went well until the man of the family borrowed a hundred dollars from the kind driver. The way my friend saw it, a hundred is a small amount. Yet he was becoming wary. After all, he has a job and he has his commitments. So does the man of this family. It is not how much we earn but how we learn to live within our means. In a way, my friend does not even expect repayment. But he is concerned about possible future requests.
I view the whole thing differently. If someone approaches me for even fifty dollars, I would point out nicely that I only have about sixty dollars in my wallet on a weekly basis. If I were to loan it to anyone, my family would end up eating white rice and tuna fish every day. (I happen to have more than ten cans of tuna fish in my larder.) That is why I would not loan money to anyone. Not because I am unwilling, but because I don't have extra. Moreover, what I fear most are those who borrow small amounts and return them promptly. After building up a good and steady track record of borrowing and returning, one fine day that person may ask for a big amount and then disappear. The best course of action would be to refer such requests to the church committee. Should the reason for such a request be valid, then the church would be able to help.
It is sad that an attempt to be helpful backfires.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
(397) Recycling 6
After I moved into my current house, I acquired a few new neighbours. One of them is a single mother. After her son shifted out to live on campus, she wanted to get rid of a chest of drawers. I took a look and told her not to leave it out exposed to the weather. I gathered our sons to move it to my house. Just around that time someone gave Elizabeth a whole bunch of winter clothing. I cleaned up the chest of drawers, let it dry and then stored those extra clothes.
About two months ago, Elizabeth received an acceptance from an American university. I took a big suitcase from another neighbour and transferred all those clothes into it. Actually we still had not raised the funds for enrolling her yet, but by faith we are getting ready for her to go.
When I was sending a returning missionary home, she mentioned she needed to look for furniture to move into a bigger room. My antennae came out and I asked her what she was looking for. She was deciding between a wardrobe or a chest of drawers. Straight away I offered my chest of drawers. Two weeks later she came to take a look. It was made of good quality wood. Not like those in the furniture shop that was made of ply wood. Since she did not mind the chipped black paint, she decided to take it rather than shell out $150 for the modern flimsy item.
Now we await a volunteer van driver so that we can transport the drawers to its new home. It felt good to be able to rescue a good piece of furniture from being thrown away. I have enjoyed using it for almost three years now. If our missionary friend is a handy woman, she may even repaint it and give it a new appearance as well as a new lease of life.
About two months ago, Elizabeth received an acceptance from an American university. I took a big suitcase from another neighbour and transferred all those clothes into it. Actually we still had not raised the funds for enrolling her yet, but by faith we are getting ready for her to go.
When I was sending a returning missionary home, she mentioned she needed to look for furniture to move into a bigger room. My antennae came out and I asked her what she was looking for. She was deciding between a wardrobe or a chest of drawers. Straight away I offered my chest of drawers. Two weeks later she came to take a look. It was made of good quality wood. Not like those in the furniture shop that was made of ply wood. Since she did not mind the chipped black paint, she decided to take it rather than shell out $150 for the modern flimsy item.
Now we await a volunteer van driver so that we can transport the drawers to its new home. It felt good to be able to rescue a good piece of furniture from being thrown away. I have enjoyed using it for almost three years now. If our missionary friend is a handy woman, she may even repaint it and give it a new appearance as well as a new lease of life.
Friday, May 6, 2011
(396) Hurtful comments
A friend was relating how she was hurt by discriminating comments by her professor throughout her five years of college. While she had dealt with it, had talked with the prof before graduation and forgiven him. I could still see the lines of hurt on her face throughout the time she was relating the experience. Normally she is a sweet, joyful and cheerful person.
You see, she came from a minority tribe in northern Borneo. She was probably the very first person from her tribe to venture to the capital city to further her studies. Of course her English speaking ability at the point of college entrance was much lower than those city denizens who have far more opportunities to listen, speak and use English. While she came from a rural area with no running water and electricity, she did not live in tree houses. To say so in a sarcastic manner in front of all the students in a lecture hall would hurt a young girl's feelings. She may be disadvantaged by her origin and back ground, but she was not part of a savage, man-eating stone-age tribe.
Looking back, I was caught in that kind of situation within the first few weeks of arriving in USA. A snooty poor little rich girl asked me pointedly in front a crowd in a Dormitory Social if I lived on top of trees in my home country. I was extremely blessed that my mature student friend from Africa came to my defence. Together we painted an exotic, admirable picture of living in a jungle. It was an adventure, a good life that they would never have the opportunity to experience. Until my graduation, one of the girls who heard that creative exposition still was amazed that a former jungle girl like me could be elected to become a Phi Beta Kappa. By then, I have accepted the fact that most Americans I met have little geographical knowledge outside of North America and Europe. Since we were friends and enjoyed each others' company, and she never asked me about my home country, I saw no reason to educate her about the Far East.
You see, she came from a minority tribe in northern Borneo. She was probably the very first person from her tribe to venture to the capital city to further her studies. Of course her English speaking ability at the point of college entrance was much lower than those city denizens who have far more opportunities to listen, speak and use English. While she came from a rural area with no running water and electricity, she did not live in tree houses. To say so in a sarcastic manner in front of all the students in a lecture hall would hurt a young girl's feelings. She may be disadvantaged by her origin and back ground, but she was not part of a savage, man-eating stone-age tribe.
Looking back, I was caught in that kind of situation within the first few weeks of arriving in USA. A snooty poor little rich girl asked me pointedly in front a crowd in a Dormitory Social if I lived on top of trees in my home country. I was extremely blessed that my mature student friend from Africa came to my defence. Together we painted an exotic, admirable picture of living in a jungle. It was an adventure, a good life that they would never have the opportunity to experience. Until my graduation, one of the girls who heard that creative exposition still was amazed that a former jungle girl like me could be elected to become a Phi Beta Kappa. By then, I have accepted the fact that most Americans I met have little geographical knowledge outside of North America and Europe. Since we were friends and enjoyed each others' company, and she never asked me about my home country, I saw no reason to educate her about the Far East.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
(395) Hearts of gold
My friends and I got together. As our conversation drifted from one topic to another, someone asked if the rest of us know the most highly priced residence in Singapore? No one did. We could not even begin to guess how much it costs!
Apparently it was a staggering S$ 240,000,000. It was the top floor of a building on Orchard Road. Now who would live in this golden house? The answer is a rich Hong Kong businessman. The richest person present commented that he should have bought a modest property which costs S$40 millions and give away the S$200 millions to the victims of the Tsunami in Sendai.
That sets me thinking: why should he? After all, the money rightfully belongs to him. He probably worked very hard and long to accumulate serious wealth like that. And perhaps he lost his parents to the massacre in the rape of Nanking. So why should he care if the Japanese suffer or are destitute?
It was interesting that this morning I read an article that featured a financial consultant called Ming Wong from Hong Kong who has a high net worth client who inherited her wealth from her father (who was a successful HK real estate tycoon). This lady desires to create a portfolio that would generate both financial returns and achieve social and/or environmental impact. She also determined to establish the best way to give away her wealth rather than just leave it all for her children.
In the same article, I read about a social enterprise in HK called Social Investors' Club. The panel of ten founding members include: 5 bankers and investment managers, three social entrepreneurs, a university professor and a retiring engineer from the government.
The above-mentioned club's first investment of HK$200,000 is in Dr. Grooming Pet Services. The latter is founded by a former drug offender with the aim to improve the recidivism rate for rehabilitated drug offenders by providing job training and empowering them with responsibilities.
We need more people like my rich friend, the rich lady in Hong Kong who cares, and folks who do not just talk but start doing something like the members of the Social Investors' Club. Since I do not have wealth, neither do I have the know how to start social enterprise; I use my writing to convey such inspiring ideas to everyone who reads my blog. Thank you for reading.
Apparently it was a staggering S$ 240,000,000. It was the top floor of a building on Orchard Road. Now who would live in this golden house? The answer is a rich Hong Kong businessman. The richest person present commented that he should have bought a modest property which costs S$40 millions and give away the S$200 millions to the victims of the Tsunami in Sendai.
That sets me thinking: why should he? After all, the money rightfully belongs to him. He probably worked very hard and long to accumulate serious wealth like that. And perhaps he lost his parents to the massacre in the rape of Nanking. So why should he care if the Japanese suffer or are destitute?
It was interesting that this morning I read an article that featured a financial consultant called Ming Wong from Hong Kong who has a high net worth client who inherited her wealth from her father (who was a successful HK real estate tycoon). This lady desires to create a portfolio that would generate both financial returns and achieve social and/or environmental impact. She also determined to establish the best way to give away her wealth rather than just leave it all for her children.
In the same article, I read about a social enterprise in HK called Social Investors' Club. The panel of ten founding members include: 5 bankers and investment managers, three social entrepreneurs, a university professor and a retiring engineer from the government.
The above-mentioned club's first investment of HK$200,000 is in Dr. Grooming Pet Services. The latter is founded by a former drug offender with the aim to improve the recidivism rate for rehabilitated drug offenders by providing job training and empowering them with responsibilities.
We need more people like my rich friend, the rich lady in Hong Kong who cares, and folks who do not just talk but start doing something like the members of the Social Investors' Club. Since I do not have wealth, neither do I have the know how to start social enterprise; I use my writing to convey such inspiring ideas to everyone who reads my blog. Thank you for reading.
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