Ciao
Okay folks, I'm off to China.
Yes...and I'm not gonna lie - I sure AIN'T looking forward to it. With the exception of the trip made back in 1982, I'm lured back to my parents' homeland for more property issues.
Only this time, it's not a legal war. It's the government exercising eminent domain and seizing property again. So...this is mom's second to last house which is up for sale or swap.
After much brainstorming, we've decided to take the property instead. Our original intent was to swap for $$$ to avoid me ever having to return to the dreaded place and having to deal with greedy family members or assholian government officials.
But after the events surrounding this, we've decided taking the property was for the best. I may have to return again, but at least, I know I'm gonna be raking money. I can't really argue with that. Unlike my trip back in 1993 - I can't really look back and say that it was a great experience. My mother didn't prepare me physically, nor mentally of the angst these people were about to inflict me.
I was there to represent my family in a turf war over my father's property. Some assholian cousin composed a fraudulent will stating that after my father's death, he'd inherit the house. Well, my father had intended to RETIRE in China and be buried there, so we knew it to be false. Best of all, these idiots forged my father's signature in English...which of course, makes no sense. If my father had wanted to will it to those scumsuckers, then why would the entire entire be drafted in Chinese, only to be signed in English? My dad's Chinese is impeccable and was fluent in English. My father wouldn't compose something so wayward as this.
As mentally beaten as I was, I managed to make the one argument which literally won the case - there's no way you can forge a Chinese signature. Even mom's shitty lawyers didn't even think of it.
How did I make these assessment? Well, for one, I was always forging my mom's English signature so I could cut class! But I could never copy my father's signature as it was especially scripted in old school tradition. From my personal experience in college, a lot of the girls preferred to print and their signatures were quite 'plain'. I managed to copy off a whole bunch of signatures simply because I enjoyed scribbling.
But in Chinese...no two people have the same handwriting. That's the weird thing...no matter how similar the handwriting, there are very distinct differences that can be seen immediately. Each individual has their personal trademark in Chinese, including myself. Not to say that English isn't unique, there's something about this iconic language that lends itself to a category of its own.
I even have my own Chinese signature which my cousin Nan diligently taught me to script. She insisted that I should have a personal Chinese signature and avoid printing my name.
I think the reason why this major point came to light emerged from me comparing notes between cultures. I was verbally beaten up by family and neighbors for not knowing Mandarin, unable to read or write Chinese and what the heck were my parents doing all day? It was appalling for them to find out all I knew was English. Speaking Fukienese and Cantonese meant nothing.
So I looked Chinese, but I wasn't - as far as they were concerned. My parents failed miserably to bring the motherland's customs overseas because Linda clearly was in the same ranks as a peasant farmer. It didn't matter that I was college graduate and had a degree in the US. These people were so ethnocentric that only China mattered and nothing else. They would preach to me how China was an economic superpower and boasted over the number of westerners conducting business in the east because of its booming potential. Mandarin is critical, they hollered. Chinese is number one.
Now this may be true if you're fluently bilingual, part of a large multi-national corporation, or an entrepreneur. But how many of us really want to work at the foreign desk? How many of us really want to play up the color our skin if we can't communicate properly? How many can relate to those overseas? I never had issues with working in Corporate America - that's what I had always wanted to be a part of. Forget the glass ceiling and how management stereotype us Asians in the workforce...I can only relate to the culture I was brought up in.
Throughout my trip, I kept taking these mental notes of the contrasts and clashes between cultures. I guess in my exhausted state, it dawned upon me that penmanship was something impossible to replicate. I could be very wrong, but after going through old texts, letters, fonts, and stuff, I never saw any two that were identical - unless they came from a printing press.
Not only did I have deal with this insane bullshit, I had my uncles deliberately picking on me when I stayed in my family's house. My mom's brothers decided to vehemently SHIT on me as an act of revenge. My mother had picked fights with them a few months earlier in China and they all decided to take it out on me.
So I was forced to "pay up" my share of provisions in the house, refused to give me a mosquito net for my room, wouldn't allow me to call home to notify mom I was safe, and always unlocked my room when I wasn't around. Of course, my mom tore everybody a new asshole when they returned to China, but the damage was done.
Mom never told me how horrible those mosquitoes were and it got up to the point where I became very ill. Some of the areas were swollen and infected and nobody gave a rat's ass how I felt. These suckers could sniff out a foreigner and I would get bitten through my clothing. As a result, I wore jeans in a 110 degree weather with a 200% humidity. It was horrible.
So now, being a bit older and wiser, I'm staying with mom's friends. I'm not staying with family who would carry out their vendetta against me, I've purchased a can of OFF! with 30% DEET, 6 Bug Band repellents to ward off evil insects for 120 hours, Imodium to last me for 2 whole weeks, Cipro for infection, and to be in possession of my own money.
Call me crazy, but when I returned from China, Ching thought I came back from war. You can't blame me for despising Fuzhou. Most people don't have these negative experiences, but this time, I'm there to earn money rather than losing it to a bunch of corrupted officials.
There is a highlight to the trip - I'll be in Hong Kong for 2 weeks with the fam. I can't wait to see Miki on the 24th. I haven't gone yet, but I miss my baby already. I'm definitely looking forward to HK because I'll most likely morph into glutton when I leave China. Unfortunately, Fuzhou isn't known for their cuisine, so the food isn't gonna float my boat. HK is famous for shopping, eating, and touring. Wonton noodles, here I come!
Ciao for now! I may try to check my emails, but if you do write, it's bunnywatt@yahoo.com or linda.mah@gmail.com.
Miss y'all!
Yes...and I'm not gonna lie - I sure AIN'T looking forward to it. With the exception of the trip made back in 1982, I'm lured back to my parents' homeland for more property issues.
Only this time, it's not a legal war. It's the government exercising eminent domain and seizing property again. So...this is mom's second to last house which is up for sale or swap.
After much brainstorming, we've decided to take the property instead. Our original intent was to swap for $$$ to avoid me ever having to return to the dreaded place and having to deal with greedy family members or assholian government officials.
But after the events surrounding this, we've decided taking the property was for the best. I may have to return again, but at least, I know I'm gonna be raking money. I can't really argue with that. Unlike my trip back in 1993 - I can't really look back and say that it was a great experience. My mother didn't prepare me physically, nor mentally of the angst these people were about to inflict me.
I was there to represent my family in a turf war over my father's property. Some assholian cousin composed a fraudulent will stating that after my father's death, he'd inherit the house. Well, my father had intended to RETIRE in China and be buried there, so we knew it to be false. Best of all, these idiots forged my father's signature in English...which of course, makes no sense. If my father had wanted to will it to those scumsuckers, then why would the entire entire be drafted in Chinese, only to be signed in English? My dad's Chinese is impeccable and was fluent in English. My father wouldn't compose something so wayward as this.
As mentally beaten as I was, I managed to make the one argument which literally won the case - there's no way you can forge a Chinese signature. Even mom's shitty lawyers didn't even think of it.
How did I make these assessment? Well, for one, I was always forging my mom's English signature so I could cut class! But I could never copy my father's signature as it was especially scripted in old school tradition. From my personal experience in college, a lot of the girls preferred to print and their signatures were quite 'plain'. I managed to copy off a whole bunch of signatures simply because I enjoyed scribbling.
But in Chinese...no two people have the same handwriting. That's the weird thing...no matter how similar the handwriting, there are very distinct differences that can be seen immediately. Each individual has their personal trademark in Chinese, including myself. Not to say that English isn't unique, there's something about this iconic language that lends itself to a category of its own.
I even have my own Chinese signature which my cousin Nan diligently taught me to script. She insisted that I should have a personal Chinese signature and avoid printing my name.
I think the reason why this major point came to light emerged from me comparing notes between cultures. I was verbally beaten up by family and neighbors for not knowing Mandarin, unable to read or write Chinese and what the heck were my parents doing all day? It was appalling for them to find out all I knew was English. Speaking Fukienese and Cantonese meant nothing.
So I looked Chinese, but I wasn't - as far as they were concerned. My parents failed miserably to bring the motherland's customs overseas because Linda clearly was in the same ranks as a peasant farmer. It didn't matter that I was college graduate and had a degree in the US. These people were so ethnocentric that only China mattered and nothing else. They would preach to me how China was an economic superpower and boasted over the number of westerners conducting business in the east because of its booming potential. Mandarin is critical, they hollered. Chinese is number one.
Now this may be true if you're fluently bilingual, part of a large multi-national corporation, or an entrepreneur. But how many of us really want to work at the foreign desk? How many of us really want to play up the color our skin if we can't communicate properly? How many can relate to those overseas? I never had issues with working in Corporate America - that's what I had always wanted to be a part of. Forget the glass ceiling and how management stereotype us Asians in the workforce...I can only relate to the culture I was brought up in.
Throughout my trip, I kept taking these mental notes of the contrasts and clashes between cultures. I guess in my exhausted state, it dawned upon me that penmanship was something impossible to replicate. I could be very wrong, but after going through old texts, letters, fonts, and stuff, I never saw any two that were identical - unless they came from a printing press.
Not only did I have deal with this insane bullshit, I had my uncles deliberately picking on me when I stayed in my family's house. My mom's brothers decided to vehemently SHIT on me as an act of revenge. My mother had picked fights with them a few months earlier in China and they all decided to take it out on me.
So I was forced to "pay up" my share of provisions in the house, refused to give me a mosquito net for my room, wouldn't allow me to call home to notify mom I was safe, and always unlocked my room when I wasn't around. Of course, my mom tore everybody a new asshole when they returned to China, but the damage was done.
Mom never told me how horrible those mosquitoes were and it got up to the point where I became very ill. Some of the areas were swollen and infected and nobody gave a rat's ass how I felt. These suckers could sniff out a foreigner and I would get bitten through my clothing. As a result, I wore jeans in a 110 degree weather with a 200% humidity. It was horrible.
So now, being a bit older and wiser, I'm staying with mom's friends. I'm not staying with family who would carry out their vendetta against me, I've purchased a can of OFF! with 30% DEET, 6 Bug Band repellents to ward off evil insects for 120 hours, Imodium to last me for 2 whole weeks, Cipro for infection, and to be in possession of my own money.
Call me crazy, but when I returned from China, Ching thought I came back from war. You can't blame me for despising Fuzhou. Most people don't have these negative experiences, but this time, I'm there to earn money rather than losing it to a bunch of corrupted officials.
There is a highlight to the trip - I'll be in Hong Kong for 2 weeks with the fam. I can't wait to see Miki on the 24th. I haven't gone yet, but I miss my baby already. I'm definitely looking forward to HK because I'll most likely morph into glutton when I leave China. Unfortunately, Fuzhou isn't known for their cuisine, so the food isn't gonna float my boat. HK is famous for shopping, eating, and touring. Wonton noodles, here I come!
Ciao for now! I may try to check my emails, but if you do write, it's bunnywatt@yahoo.com or linda.mah@gmail.com.
Miss y'all!
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