Susan Blumberg-Kason

Once upon a time in Hong Kong

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 03:25:16 +0000

Since booking my trip to Hong Kong, I’ve been thinking about the places I hope to see in those four short days this April. But I’ve also been recalling my first year in Hong Kong when I moved there as a 19 year-old in the summer of 1990.

This photo was taken days after my arrival. Here I am standing at Lok Ma Chau with China looming in the background. I’d visited China in 1988, but it still felt like a world away even in Hong Kong.

Lok Ma Chau, 1990

A month into that first year, I learned about the Mid-Autumn Festival. It quickly became one of my favorite holidays. I kept this lantern on my desk until the cellophane melted from the sunlight that poured in through my dorm room window.

My first Mid-Autumn Festival, 1990

I moved to Hong Kong to study, so here I am in the Office of International Studies Programme. This was well before e-mail, texting, and cell phones, so all my communication with the outside world came through snail mail. I had a mail box in one of those slots to my left. My dad wrote to me weekly.

Hong Kong, 1991

My first residence in Hong Kong was the Adam Schall Hall, named after a 16th-17th century German Jesuit who spent 47 years in China.

In front of dorm at Chinese University of Hong Kong, 1991

To earn some spending money, I taught English under the table. Every Saturday I trekked down to Taikoo Shing to teach a Japanese housewife and her two young children. Here I am at their flat playing a pinata-like game, but with a watermelon.

click to enlarge

I also volunteered at a Vietnamese refugee camp in Kowloon, where I taught English to adults. I had to pester International Social Services before they’d let me volunteer, but it was worth every phone call and written letter. The classes were housed in old British barracks that once held POWs during the Japanese occupation. That land is now littered with luxury high-rises.

With Do'an at the Argyle Street Detention Centre, 1991

This is the Hong Kong I knew and loved from back then. Three years later, I moved back for what I thought would be for good. As fate would have it, I only stayed for four more years. And soon I’ll be returning for the first time since I left in 1998.

Postcard from Hong Kong, 1991

I can’t wait to see Hong Kong as it is today.

The Road to Hong Kong

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 05:03:11 +0000

Two weeks ago I came face to face with a tough decision (tough at the time) when Cathay Pacific announced a dirt cheap round-trip, non-stop flight from Chicago to Hong Kong.

I haven’t been back to Hong Kong since I left in 1998, pregnant with my first child and married to someone who is no longer my husband.

Hong Kong, 1996

Given those factors, fourteen years is a long time.

But when my mom (who is vacationing in Africa as I type) offered to stay with the kids provided we bring in some help during the day, I called my husband at work and told him of my ‘crazy’ plan. His answer?

“Hell, yeah.”

So we’re going to Hong Kong in three months. Although I never thought I wouldn’t go back, I never dreamed it would happen before my kids were old enough to get themselves dressed and fed. I couldn’t sleep the night I booked the tickets.

Although we’ll only be there for four days, I’m excited to show my husband this gorgeous city through my eyes.

Hong Kong postcard, 1994

If you had four days in Hong Kong, where would you go?

Book of the week–Escape from Hong Kong

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 05:06:52 +0000

After much anticipation, I finally received and read Tim Luard‘s fabulous Escape from Hong Kong: Admiral Chan Chak’s Christmas Day Dash, 1941 (Hong Kong University Press, 2012).

And boy did it not disappoint.

This has to be one of the most exciting wartime escape stories–and probably the most underreported one.

To start, the cast of characters couldn’t be more fascinating. As the title states, it was Admiral Chan Chak who led the escape. But Chan wasn’t just another career military man.

He was stationed in Hong Kong and presided over the Chinese (Nationalist) Navy’s southern forces. Oh, and he only had one leg.

Chan’s aide-de-camp was the dashing, devout Christian, six-foot-three-inch Henry Hsu, born in southern China, trained at the famed Whampoa Military Academy, and educated in the law in Shanghai.

The British Navy agreed to help Chan, Henry Hsu, and Chan’s bodyguard escape Hong Kong as soon as the colony fell to the Japanese because the Admiral couldn’t be captured, what with all the classified information he possessed. Plus, he had excellent connections in southern China, even in the Japanese-occupied areas just north of Hong Kong, and could be of great help to the top British Navy personnel (which included a Canadian, a New Zealander, some Scots, and a Russian Jewish refugee by way of Shanghai)–and others who tagged along for the ride.

But the escape didn’t start off as planned. When a boat carrying the Admiral, Henry Hsu, his bodyguard, and Colonel SK Yee was attacked by the Japanese, the three men stripped to their underwear and jumped overboard while the non-swimmer Colonel Yee stayed on the boat–with Chan Chak’s wooden leg (and a couple hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars stuffed inside the leg).

After the trio met up with five British torpedo speed boats, they made their way north to Mirs Bay. In all, more than sixty men escaped together in this group. They walked and rode overland through occupied China, dodging Japanese patrols and wading through paddy fields, until they reached Free China–all guided by Admiral Chan and his guerilla devotees north of Hong Kong. Many of the escapees made their way to Chungking and some on to Burma, where they once again fled the Japanese.

For more about this harrowing tale, check out the Escape From Hong Kong blog at http://www.hongkongescape.org/.

A morning with Anita Diamant

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 14:50:49 +0000

On Sunday morning I drove over to historic Oak Park, Illinois, the former home of Ernest Hemingway and Frank Lloyd Wright. I went to Oak Park to hear Author Anita Diamant speak before a full crowd at my synagogue, Oak Park Temple.

I’d first heard of Anita Diamant in the late 1990s when my mom went to hear her read from her debut best-selling novel, The Red Tent (Picador, 1998). She’s not only a novelist, but huge in Jewish communities around the US for her non-fiction life-cycle books, or what she calls Jewish guidebooks.

Diamant started out as a journalist in Boston and when she and her non-Jewish husband were engaged to be married, she found few resources for people who wanted a liberal Jewish wedding, ie, when one partner has converted or isn’t Jewish. So she wrote her own book, The New Jewish Wedding. From there she went on to write five more guidebooks.

She spoke on Sunday about writing, liberal Judaism, women, and mikvahs, the Jewish ritual bath. From her journalist background, she is a deadline writer. Her next novel is due on December 1, so while she tries to write every morning after walking her dogs, she knows she’ll be very busy come September.

Diamant discussed her writing group, which she highly recommends for all writers. She has a core group of three, with others coming and going.

One member of the audience asked what kind of books she enjoys reading. Diamant replied that she reads books for research, best sellers, recommendations from friends, and poetry. When she’s writing historical fiction, she doesn’t read contemporary fiction.

Another congregant asked for tips about breaking into publishing now. Diamant said it’s quite difficult to find an agent and publisher, but with the internet, e-books, and self-publishing, writers have more options than ever. She also said there are more Jewish voices in literature now than in the past and that memoir is an important genre because in our fast-paced society it’s good to slow down and read about people’s experiences on a deep level.

After an hour, she signed books and chatted with congregants. She even stopped to pose with enthusiastic readers. What a nice way to spend a Sunday morning.

Spring Festival in Tianjin

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 19:07:33 +0000

Former China Daily columnist Stuart Beaton is back guest blogging about his trip to his in-laws’ over Chinese New Year, or Spring Festival. Stu’s podcasts can be found at http://rastous.podomatic.com/. I have many a Chinese New Year memory at my former in-laws’, so this really hit home. I hope you enjoy his post as much as I do! Here’s Stu:

My wife is lucky in that she doesn’t have to travel far to visit her parents for Lunar New Year – we live and work less than an hour away from them by bus, the route of which pretty much runs door to door.

However, she only has five or six days off for Spring Festival each year, so we have to make the most of it. Last year we spent part of the time in Adelaide, and returned to spend the rest of it in China, but this year we just didn’t have the resources to make that a possibility (and breaking my Nan’s heart in the bargain, but that is a long tale best left untold).

So we set off bright and early for Ellen’s parents’ place on the 22^nd… well… Ellen was bright. I was already missing coffee, and yet I was still clutching my cup in the hope of a miracle. Ellen’s Dad drives a taxi on the mean streets of Tianjin for a living, so he collected us from our apartment, and dropped us at theirs, before heading back to work.

Immediately I was pressed into service putting up the decorations. Ellen’s Mum knows that I have an Arts background, but unfortunately she thinks that it’s in the Fine Arts, which should give me a wonderful eye for such things. I don’t think Art History is training in itself to hang things on walls, but maybe it helps.

With the paper cuts and Dragon motifs in position, I was told to get my Docs and jacket back on, as we were going to visit Ellen’s Godfather. A huge container of oil was stuck in my right hand, and a bag of just dead fish in the other, and we walked to some of the last remaining Hutongs in Tianjin.

These courtyard style homes have been systematically bulldozed in recent years around the city, despite their historical significance, and those remaining are on the outskirts of the city proper. Ellen’s Godfather’s family lives in a narrow, cobbled stone paved alley of Hutongs, kept meticulously clean by what seems like an army of broom wielding housewives, eager to see who is approaching and entering their neighbour’s homes.

Heating consisted of an old stove in the bedroom – which doubled as the living room, as it was the warmest in the house. When we visited last year, a chicken spent the whole time warming itself by the stove, resisting any effort to move it. I asked Ellen where the chicken was this time, and she just pointed to the pot on the stove…

After a while, we returned to Ellen’s parent’s apartment, to find that heating to the building had been shut off. It seems that someone had gotten too enthusiastic with their fireworks, and set them off in the middle of the day – underneath the main pipe carrying hot water to the radiator system. A crew turned up eight hours later to patch it, whilst we huddled under coats and blankets to keep warm.

At least the power wasn’t out, so we could still make dumplings – bao zi. I’m not a bad cook, and so I pounded up the dough for the dumpling wrappers, and then made the filling, while Ellen and her Mum happily nattered in front of the TV. Unfortunately I can’t roll the wrappers out fast enough, or crimp them properly, so they took over – wrapping and folding with practiced ease.

With Ellen’s Dad returning home, I was pressed into service to set up and light the rolls of firecrackers. This year I’d begged Ellen to ask her Mum not to spend a lot of money on them, as they’re just a wicked waste – they only go bang once, and you can always look out the window and see other people’s money going up in smoke!

We spent the next couple of days there, wandering about and saying hello to people, before returning to our apartment – and although the Spring Festival holiday is now officially over, the sound of fireworks is still filling the air.

Book of the week–Dream of Ding Village

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 04:22:03 +0000

With all the Great Leap Forward books I’ve been reading, I thought I’d take a break and try something contemporary. So last week I picked up Yan Lianke’s Dream of Ding Village (Grove Press, 2011), which has been listed as a finalist for the 2011 Man Asian Literary Prize.

Several weeks ago I read and enjoyed Yan’s novel, Serve the People (Grove Press, 2008). What stood out in both these novels was Yan’s ability to depict love stories in times of crisis. Serve the People takes place during the Cultural Revolution while Dream of Ding Village is set in the present. But Dream could have been written about the Great Leap Forward. The story is a present day version of the helplessness from back then.

The narrator is Ding Qiang, a deceased 12 year old boy from rural Henan province. The boy dies after some villagers poison him to get back at his father, Ding Hui, an entrepreneur who made a fortune on the sale of his fellow villagers’ blood.

Not only does Ding Hui profit from the blood sales–which result in an HIV/AIDS epidemic–but he also intercepts the free coffins the government aims to provide villagers who die from AIDS, and sells them at a profit. Ding Hui finds yet another venture to profit off the dead. In the end, he’s risen in the government and is wealthier than anyone else in that area.

Ding Hui’s brother, simply named Uncle, contracts HIV in his thirties. His wife leaves him, so rather than suffering alone, he starts an affair with a young woman who also has HIV and is abandoned by her husband. But since Uncle and Lingling are still married to other people, the villagers frown upon their affair. They move in together and later marry. Uncle and Lingling’s relationship is my favorite part of the book.

As you can imagine, the residents of Ding Village don’t fare well. Grandpa, or Ding Shuiyang, is the hero of the story and quite a sympathetic character.

While reading Dream of Ding Village, I could picture the same scenario set some forty years earlier as cadres profited while peasants whittled away to nothing.

Yan Lianke’s books are by and large banned in China. This one is no exception.

Happy Year of the Dragon!

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 04:18:35 +0000

It’s now the day of Chinese New Year Eve across the Pacific. Families all over China are preparing for a big meal followed by the CCTV song-dance-skit variety show and a night of fireworks to last until daybreak.

Here in the calmer suburbs of Chicago, I’ve been reading to my kids about the Chinese New Year. A couple weeks ago I blogged about dragon books. Now here’s a short list of picture books about the Chinese New Year in general.

One of my favorites is Karen Katz’s My First Chinese New Year (Henry Holt, 2004). My kids love the red envelopes, the delicious Chinese banquet, and the Chinatown parade. I hope the weather holds out in Chicago so I can take them to our parade this year. If not, we’ll try again next year.

My two and four year olds love My Mom is a Dragon (ThingsAsian Press, 2005) by Tricia Morrissey. Each pages features an image of a Chinese cutout depicting one of the twelve animals in the Chinese zodiac. My kids have memorized which zodiac animal belongs to which family member–even great uncles and their great grandma! When we get to the ox and pig–their signs–they listen closely as I read their personality descriptions.

Another fun book is Hiss! Pop! Boom! Celebrating Chinese New Year (ThingsAsian Press, 2006), also by Tricia Morrissey. The beautiful Chinese brushstroke illustrations show goldfish, lion dancers, lucky red envelopes, lanterns, and more.

Finally, we can’t read enough of Happy Chinese New Year, Kai-lan (Simon Spotlight, 2009) by Lauryn Silverhardt. Kai-lan and her friends participate in the dragon dance and learn the value of teamwork. After the parade, they eat Yeye’s delicious dumplings. Yum!

Most of these books are recommended for kids five and up, but kids of all ages will enjoy them. Happy Reading and Happy New Year!

Book of the week–His Wife and Daughters

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 02:58:19 +0000

This week I fired up my Kindle and read Kim Arbor’s page-clicking novel, His Wife and Daughters.

Although the story revolves around the family of a California congressman who is involved in a 1980s sex scandal, it’s so much more than a scandal. As a result, this novel has caused me to look at the real scandals in a more human light, not as a CNN circus sideshow.

Dan Brath and his wife, Trina, have two teenage daughters when the congressman’s scandal breaks out. Jill is seventeen and Phoebe just thirteen. Trina deals with her husband’s infidelities in a few ways–some helpful, some not–and shows how a woman in her situation can still lead a dignified life, even if it takes years to get there.

Decades later Jill is a divorced realtor. Although the story is ultimately sad, I found myself laughing out loud when Jill is convinced her ex-husband is about to ask her back or when she spills coffee all over herself in a public spectacle at a cafe. She’s so human and sympathetic.

Phoebe, on the other hand, is a lost soul who feels betrayed by her family and cuts off all contact with them. She finds herself in Tokyo fulfilling the same role as her father’s teenage mistress all those years ago.

I love the San Francisco setting, especially Potrero Hill, which was the closest nice neighborhood to where I lived for a couple years in the 1990s. But I had no clue about San Francisco’s stairway streets. They’re definitely something to check out on my next visit. One could even do a walking tour of many of the places in this book–and see a side of San Francisco off the tourist path.

If I could change one thing about this book, I’d add a disclaimer at the beginning warning readers not to start this book on an empty stomach. The food descriptions are just too delicious to read when you’re hungry!

Looking back at Hong Kong 50 years ago

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 04:59:44 +0000

If you’ve been following this site much, you’ll notice I love anniversaries: the 100th anniversary of Double Ten, the 100th anniversary of the Republic of China, and the various anniversaries of the Fall of Saigon and the Hong Kong Handover. I suppose I’m into these milestones because they bring together my passion for history and Asia.

So as I think about anniversaries, I realize this year marks 50 years since my mom first stepped foot in Hong Kong. It gives me goosebumps just thinking how different my life would have been if my mom (and her family) had never traveled there. Here’s a little photo montage of Hong Kong back in 1962, the year my 20 year old mother first visited.

Hong Kong, 1962

Kai Tak Airport used to be one of the highlights of Hong Kong. I miss it like a deceased relative. Kai Tak was that special.

Kai Tak Airport, 1962

This photo shows the Central district and one of the world’s most beautiful skylines. This is my favorite view in the whole world, even with all the buildup since 1962.

Hong Kong, 1962

Here’s Central up close and personal. The police pagodas have long been replaced by traffic lights and the traffic has worsened considerably. It’s still just as glamorous.

Central district, 1962

Floating restaurants were a big tourist attraction even back in 1962. Stubborn and determined not to be a tourist in Hong Kong, I never set foot in one. But I wish I had, just for the experience. This Tai Pak was out in the countryside and left Hong Kong long ago.

Tai Pak, 1962

Aberdeen was another tourist spot back then, complete with other floating restaurants. My mom probably took this photo from the Aberdeen Tai Pak.

click to enlarge

By the time I arrived in Hong Kong in 1990, sampans were a thing of the past, besides the occasional tourist jaunt. Back in 1962, they were still commonplace.

click to enlarge

This photo was snapped a year before my mom stayed at the Sun Ya Hotel in Mongkok. From the photos I’ve seen from this area back then, not much changed between 1961 and 1962. Incidentally, I often hung out in this area some 30 years after my mom stayed here. I spent my 24th birthday at the Broadway theater.

Sun Ya Hotel, 1961

Here’s what the hotel looked like during the day.

Sun Ya Hotel circa 1965, posted with permission from www.gwulo.com

To put this trip in perspective, Hong Kong was developing quickly with a growing manufacturing industry while China was just coming out of the Great Leap Forward. The Hong Kong-China mail route was reopened in 1962 and in six short months, Hong Kong folks sent more than 6.2 million packages of food and clothing across the border to China. Refugees poured into Hong Kong from China–and were all settled. (Thirty years later, when I first lived in Hong Kong, tens of thousands of refugees arrived there by boat from Vietnam.)

Across the South China Sea, Chiang Kai-shek was still running the show in Taiwan under martial law.

May Hong Kong enjoy 10,000 years of prosperity. Happy New Year!

Letter from Tianjin: Chinese New Year, 2012

Susan Blumberg-Kason — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 00:31:40 +0000

Stuart Beaton guest blogs here about the festivities and customs surrounding the Spring Festival in China. Stu also has his own site at http://rastous.podomatic.com/. I’m excited to share his latest post as we approach the start of the Year of the Dragon. Here’s Stu:

As I sit here, writing this, the still night outside is being rent by short, crackling bursts, punctuated by the loud “crump” of explosions. Rockets scream in arcs over buildings, and the smell of black powder is everywhere.

I am not crouched in a shellscrape in the Helmand Province, but at my desk in downtown Tianjin – currently doubling for early Eighties Beirut, it seems.

Spring Festival is here, not with a whimper, but with a bang – and there are many more to come. The official holiday starts on the 22^nd of January, but already the place feels like it’s on a break.

Local courier companies, much to my wife’s chagrin, ceased deliveries on the 10^th, and many online businesses have been forced to put up their virtual shutters until the holiday is over.

My wallet thanks them, too.

Spare a thought, however, for the millions of migrant workers who make up the vast majority of the urban construction crews that are building the “Miracle Economy”.

Most Chinese, rich or poor, want to travel to their hometowns, and spend the Festival with their parents and relatives. The usual method is to travel by the backbone of Chinese transport – the railways.

Unfortunately, this year saw the implementation of a new Internet based ticket reservation system, designed to streamline ticket sales, and reduce waiting times.

Which it hasn’t.

Migrant workers, by their very nature, are those least likely to have access to a computer, let alone the Internet. Unskilled, underpaid, and more often than not poorly educated, these workers are the ones that are now having the most difficulty getting home to their families.

This is also the season that construction crew bosses tend to abscond with suitcases packed with their workers’ wages, so you can see that it’s not going to be a very happy time for some people – stranded in terrible conditions, far from home.

It’s also a time of gifting and excess, when little red envelopes (Hong Bao) come into their own. Originally given by parents to children, Hong Bao are now the grease that oils almost all parts of Chinese society.

Can’t get a promotion on merit? Buy it with a bundle of used yuan. Your kid can’t get a place at a school? A nice wedge will get their bum on a seat. Facing an investigation for bribery? Buy your way out of it with a pretty red envelope.

This happens all the time, and it’s not even seen as the corruption as it is – it’s just another tradition… one that I am yet to take part in.

Another emerging trend is the “contract girlfriend” (or boyfriend).

No one wants to travel back home, and display their sad, lonely status (or display their “perverted” sexual orientation) – so why not hire a companion for the journey? For a carefully negotiated fee, which includes just how much “hand holding” will occur, you too can have a pretty partner to display to everyone you know.

After the holiday, you can simply tell all and sundry that you broke up with them… then hire someone else next year.

Finally, it’s the time to eat until you burst – and then eat some more. I’ve seen far too much food wasted here than I care to dwell on, and the image of half a dozen untouched roast duck being discarded will go with me to my grave.

But our house is decorated with paper seals on the windows and door, and red lanterns in the window, and we’ve planned to spend a few days at Ellen’s parents’ house…

Luckily it’s only a short bus ride away.

Xin nian kuai le, folks.