Thursday, February 25, 2010

A Reversed Culture Shock

My trip to China ended with an eleven-hour flight back to Vancouver. We flew first to Hong Kong and then connected our flight to Vancouver. I arrived into Vancouver on 29 March. So as you can see, it’s already been 4 days since I ended my trip. I told myself to release the journal that I kept on the road, but my other half brain told me to hold. Yes, something went wrong here. What I kept in my journal does not match what I expected that I would write.

It seems that my trip to China brought me second cultural shock. I visited China four times since I left the country five years ago. Excluding the last visit, the previous three were either business type or out of family emergency. So, I should I say that this last visit was a real visit. And it brought me a reversed cultural shock, which I tried to deny but failed.

Shock One – Traffic Chaos

Believe it or not, I was pretty scared when crossing the road. It seems that the traffic signals in the city where I stayed didn’t really mean anything. People crossed the road when the red light was on, and so did the drivers. I had to drag my dear wife and my brave boy whenever we went across the roads. “Do as the Romans do!” I told them. The real question is “What happens when the Romans don’t?” I have no answer to that question.

Taking a taxi was another unique experience to me. I never realized it was so unique until I revisited the city. Here in the city that I lived, the drivers (not only the taxi drivers) were the “bravest” and the most --- drivers that I had ever seen. Almost none gave signals when making left and right turns. Miraculously, I didn’t see traffic accidents while I was there.

Shock Two – Sense of Privacy

I don’t mean to say that there was no privacy in China. But, what I experience in a notary public office made me wonder what privacy really meant to many people there. One day, I went into the office. Seeing people revealing their quite personal stories in front of many others made me uncomfortable… “Do as the Romans do” I told myself. So, I waited patiently and tried to avoid the sound coming from the person in front of the line. Then, I sensed that someone was peering through my shoulder and stared at the paper that I was holding. “Do as the Romans do” I murmured quietly. Moments later, my brother came and we discussed at the corner of the office with the documents open on the desk. Almost immediately, I saw a man was staring at the documents. His staring lasted (about 3 minutes) till I politely reminded him that it was a personal document and … My mouth dropped seeing him exploded at me, reminding me that it was a public place and he started just the desk not the document.

This incident made me remember what I went through when I visit doctors while I was living in the city. Whoever visited doctors knew that doctors questioned their patients in front of all the other patients or listeners. Quite embarrassing sometimes, I should admit, when you have to involuntarily take the intimate information of someone else, which you really don’t want to.

Shock Three – No Title

The city that I stayed is well known for having rivers running across the city. It should be a beautiful Venice if people living along the river knew how to restrain themselves from dumping the rubbish into the river. Constantly, I saw through internet of this-and-that type of regulations and by-laws have been implemented to prevent rivers from the pollution. Well, the reality shows a quite different view. Black colored material floating with sickening smells catches people’s eyes once they go across the bridge or walk along the river. One day from my ritual morning exercise, I reported to my brother-in-law of what I just discovered. “I saw a very neat slogan today,” I told my brother-in-law. “It’s about the way to prevent people from polluting the river,” I said. This is how it said: “Whoever dumps on the river should be cursed to be terminated, three generations included!”

Again, this reminded me the time while I stayed in the city. We kept our rooms clean, the inside of course, not the outside.

Note – this journal is totally out of my personal observation and does not reflect the views of this web-site. If you feel upset for what I wrote in this journal, please reply with facts. No personal attacks, please. As I said thousands of times, I am a Chinese, and I have Chinese blood, regardless of where I stay!

How could you?

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?"-but then you'd relent, and roll me over for a belly rub.

My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person"-still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy.

Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished放逐 to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch-because your touch was now so infrequent-and I would have defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.  

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure,on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family.  

I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her". They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers". You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed "No, Daddy. Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.

You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?"

They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you-that you had changed your mind-that this was all a bad dream…or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded

A Glass of Milk

One day, a poor boy who was trying to pay his way through school by selling goods door to door found that he only had one dime left. He was hungry so he decided to beg for a meal at the next house

However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door. Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so she brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, “How much do I owe you?”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she replied. “Mother has taught me never to accept pay for a kindness.” He said, “Then I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but it also increased his faith in God and the human race. He was about to give up and quit before this point.

Years later the young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where specialists can be called in to study her rare disease. Dr. Howard Kelly, now famous was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately, he rose and went down through the hospital hall into her room.

Dressed in his doctor’s gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room and determined to do his best to save her life. From that day on, he gave special attention to her case.

After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it and then wrote something on the side. The bill was sent to her room. She was afraid to open it because she was positive that it would take the rest of her life to pay it off. Finally she looked, and the note on the side of the bill caught her attention. She read these words...

“Paid in full with a glass of milk.”


Dr. Howard Kelly

Tears of joy flooded her eyes as she prayed silently: “Thank You, God. Your love has spread through human hearts and hands.”

A blue day 2

In the dark and silent bedroom, I was quickly back in my dream of last night- fighting against a mosquito, which had been buzzing around me and I tried unsuccessfully to hit it again and again. The mosquito was so shrewd and acute to escape, but I finally won the fight. All of sudden, I was waked by furious knocks at my door. I rushed to get the door. I slipped down and hit the ground heavily. The horrible pain in my right leg and ankle attacked me over all so that I couldn’t stand up and move any more. At this moment, I was shocked by a horrible screen. I was lying in water. All rooms were in water, 2 inches deep, like a swimming pool. Hearing the sounds from taps, I realized that I left the taps on when I went to bed. What a stupid mistake! My leg hurts liked hell, but I tried to move bit by bit to the door. I open the door before I was totally exhausted. My neighbor switched off all taps and called the ambulance. In hospital, the X-ray showed that my leg was broken. Tears continuously ran down. I felt painful and lonely. I couldn't reach my husband, for he stopped his cellular phone during the meeting. At supper time, I finally saw him in the hospital. So I prayed along with my husband to end the unlucky day soon.

Every time, I flash back the blue day, I highly appreciate my neighbor who helped me out. So I am convinced that even if you encounter a blue day, you can surely find some spots sparking in your mind.

A blue day 1

August 23 is a blue day for me. When I look back on the day, I can't help feeling depressive.

At 7:00 a.m., the scream from my alarm clock forced me to open my eyes. The room was in gloom. It was raining outside. How comfortable it would be if I could stay in my bed for the whole day, listening the sound of rain and enjoying laziness. But it was time to get up to prepare breakfast for my husband. He was supposed to attend an important seminar at 8:00. I spent 5 minutes pushing me into the kitchen. Who knows the terrible day began at this moment.

When I turned on the tap, there was no water out. Staring at the tap, I was confused. Suddenly, I remembered the hateful notice posted on the building's entrance about a temporary water outage in the morning. I forgot it because of returning late from a birthday party. I searched all the water containers in the kitchen. There was no sufficient water for my husband's clean, least cooking food. It was 7:20. I have no time to waste (time was running out). I called a friend living in next dormitory building to me for some water. Under her help, my husband finally had gone for the meeting on time. Sighs, I thought that I could go to bed to continue my dream.