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Tunis, June 19, 2013 8:30AM Youssef picked me up from El Mouradi Africa hotel heading towards La Médina, the ancient town built by the Turks during their reign in Tunisia. Sitting right in the city center of Tunis, La Médina is still the administrative center of the city and a must-see tourist attraction. We enter from what I was told the Sea Gate for boats in ancient time. It is now the main entrance coming from the main avenue in Tunis, Habib Bourguiba, named after the first president of The Republic of Tunisia. As I am eager passing the gate heading into the hustle bustle souk, a policeman comes out from nowhere and stops us. Oh dear! Can’t recall I’ve done anything out of the norms apart from the fact that I am the only Asian girl in this exotic Mediterranean town. The policeman obviously asks Youssef a few questions in Arabic and Youssef seems to try and explain hard. I only learn later that he’s been asked about his residence, his job, and definitely why he is here with a foreigner. “It’s got nothing to do with you”, explains Youssef. “After the revolution in 2010-2011, security is tightened and the police does random check for the safety of foreigners.” Fair enough! At least it’s a release that I’m not in trouble. But then again, inchallah! As arabic people put it, “Leave it with God!” and hopefully you’re in good hands. Today is my lucky day and I get to see La Médina as an insider. Khaled, one of the major architects responsible for preserving the medina, is meeting us for coffee before showing us some of his work. As we wait for Khaled to make his appearance, Youssef and I settle at a corner cafe in the souk for Turkish coffee and “thé de bondok”, a traditional Tunisian mint tea served sweet with pinenuts on top. Religious music plays loud in the background. Shisha smoke fills the air. An artist- looking guy quietly sips his tea, all eyes on the morning paper. Khaled finally arrives. He must know the medina like the back of his hands. He navigates through the medina maze at ease, stopping at times to say hello to the residents of this recently-planned to become the cultural and artictic district for the city of Tunis. One after another, he shows me a school, a museum, a boutique hotel, a community center, an art gallery, and even his own home. My jaws drop. There’s a reason why all the ancient houses carry narrow entrances and tiny windows. They don’t want to be seen. They don’t want attention, not like the modern bigger, better showing off of today’s era. But once you are inside, you’re in a totally different world where people live and breathe art. The artisanal hand-carving decor, the magnificently painted ceramics, the twisted walkways, the surprising outdoor centered garden…, I am totally lost! I would never want to walk back out if I don’t have to. Every good thing comes to an end. We bid adieu as Khaked asks me when he would see me again. Inchallah! Leave it with God though I know I would somehow find my way back, just to sit down with history in its most artistic form. #tunis #culture #Tunisia #History #lamedina #arts #inchallah #souk

Tunis, June 18, 2013 For a country that has been living with the ruins and the left-behind evidence of past colonization from the the Phoenicians, the Romans, the Turks, the French…, it is now stepping on full gear heading straight towards the future. The old city stays totally run-down, tired, and dirty while new business districts and suburbs are coming up at light-year speed. Outside of downtown Tunis, one can spot one under-construction project probably every few hundred meters. At one point I start wondering if all the cranes in Dubai have been relocated to Tunisia. Big, small, office buildings, apartment blocks, commercial properties, lifestyle complexes, schools, hospitals…, and what have you. Tunisia is on the go. People are on the go. There is not enough hours in a day to seize opportunities. Just like other emerging economies, the country is ready to go from nothing to everything. And the clock is ticking. People are counting down to the Voilà moment. Rumours are in the air about new comers. As Tunisians look up to Turkey as their future, one can smell the future cooking on the dusty streets of Tunis where construction sands fill up one’s eyes. “So who are behind these developments?” I ask my local friend, Youssef. “The locals of course” replies Youssef, “and they have no idea.” As the country leads its fast-paced life, everything changes on a daily basis. One day you are on the main road; the next day you’re out. One day you are at the entrance; the next day you’re out. One day you’ve got the best spot; the next day you’re out. And it’s common. And people accept it. Crazy but c’mon, life goes on and who cares what was there yesterday? “So what does success mean to the people of this city?” I ask Youssef. “Be known and be rich” is the answer. Why am I not surprised? The last drops of sunset gently touch the crystal blue Mediterranean sea as champagne and rosé flow freely at La Falais, a must-see-and-be-seen spot in Tunis. The water stays silent, knowing it takes Tunisia a long while to slow down and enjoy the sunset. #success #opportunities #tunis #ruins #rich #Tunisia #perspective #famous #life #sunset #slowdown

Tunis, June 16, 2013 Nothing beats the feeling of having arrived at the hotel after a long flight, a warm bath, a comfy bed, soft pillows, and an un-disturbed afternoon nap…. Well, all that for a day dream! The receptionist could not find my booking. With enough confidence I take out my Ipad and show him the confirmation email in my inbox. The guy looks perplexed. I can see the frown on his face. Then he looks up with the broadest smile ever. “I am sorry, miss. You’ve booked in for July and not June.” Oh dear, for all the mistakes I’ve ever made in life, why this when I am totally bruised after such a long trip? “Silly me!”, say I. “You have rooms available though?”. With smiling eyes, the guy calmly responds “Unfortunately not. We are fully booked until the 23rd.” There goes my warm bath! I reach for my phone. Battery is at 9% to death. I quickly call Farida, and ask if she could help organize another hotel for me. Farida laughs as hard as ever listening to my little incident, and says she would check a few hotels in town. 5 minutes later, the message comes in. “I will pick you up in 15. The Novotel has rooms available.” Oh well, if I can survive a 17-hour trip, 15 minutes does not sound too bad. “You save my life, Farida!”…. But my phone is dead and I need an adaptor. I hit the bar of the Sheraton and ask the bartender for help. The guys seems enlightened to be asked for help and after taking me to on a hotel tour around the various departments to look for an adaptor, we finally land at the business center where the lady is more than happy to lend us one. We walk back to the bar and have my phone charged at the counter. Meher his name is and he is a local Tunisian. Meher seems to have a lot of fun on his job as a cashier at this lobby bar. I am surprised to see a few guests stop by to give him a warm hello as he gets me a glass of water without me having to ask for it. As I concentrate on my deep breath to bring my body and mind back to balance, a guy walks up to the counter and asks for a beer. He looks Middle Eastern. The beer is quickly poured into a hi-ball glass. The guy pays for it, leaves some tip, and within 30 seconds gobbles down his beer. “Wow, he must be super thirsty” I think to myself. Meher laughs as he sees the look on my face. “That’s the Arabic way of drinking beer” explains Meher, “All in one shot.” Now I need a drink! But with my present condition of exhaustion, I wouldn’t dare to take that shot. And so I ask for a Campari and lemonade just to quench my thirst. While Meher is busy punching my order into the POS, a dark guy comes out from behind the bar and starts mixing my drink. “His name is Sofienne” Meher introduces his colleague. “His Mom is Jamaican and his Dad is Tunisian. He is a dark chocolate.” Sofienne does not seem to be bothered with Meher’s joke on his dark complexion. With the most contented smile he adds “Not just a chocolate. I am a hot chocolate!” My heart melts to see such enlightening attitudes at work. I wonder how many people could appear so content and happy going through their normal work days…. Random kindness, an enlightening attitude and a few light-hearted words can help make someone’s day. It certainly washes away my exhaustion and sends me off in a sunny mood in search for that warm bath and comfy bed in a strange city that has taken me in as one of its own…. #randomkindness #tunis #happiness #Tunisia #attitude #perspective #content #life #lighthearted #enlightening

Aéroport Tunis Carthage, June 15, 2013 As we are we touch down on Tunis airport, houses of white and blue spreading on a bed of bare, dessert-looking field spark the feeling of an unusual yet exciting journey ahead. The overall mood is that of another in-between country, struggling to link the rich & colorful past with the light-year speed into the future. Tunis airport is a tiny, old and run-down airport. Blue by no surprise is the overall color tone of the place. “VISA” so it says with an arrow pointing left on the signboard. That’s obviously where I am heading. Visa on arrival is always an interesting experience wherever one goes. Anything can go wrong at an airport and I am well-prepared to welcome any of such incidents though it would be a tough job to justify 11 hours of flying and 6 hours of waiting in transit just to arrive at this smallest country in North Africa. OK Tunisia, here I come! There’s no queue at the visa counter. That’s kinda unusual for a country offering visa on arrival. Wherever else I’ve been, long queues are the common sight at visa counters. Well, at least there is a visa counter. Always look on the bright side of life! A middle-aged, overly made-up lady sits quietly behind the counter as I approach. “I need a visa, please!” I open the conversation. “What country?” asks she without even looking at me, nor my passport. “Australia” I reply “How many days?” she asks “3 days” I reply “100” she says “Can I pay in USD or credit card?” I continue as I obviously have no Tunisian dollars on me. “No”, says the lady in a harsh cold voice. “Where can I change money then?” That seems like a logical question I guess. The lady says nothing, gets ahold of my passport, takes out a small stamp and a scrap piece of paper, stamps on it, writes the word “USD” underneath the stamp and gives it to me. “After the counter” she says, “and come back here to pick up your passport”. I look around. The only counters are the customs counters. Well, you can’t miss it. And so I line up at the customs counter in search for my money changer! Well, at least I know for sure that I can get a visa. Anything else should be trivial. As I stand in line, a Chinese guy behind starts a conversation and asks me why I am in Tunis. I obviously un-mistakenly look Chinese. When I tell him I am here for meetings with some partners in the coffee business, he immediately responds “You must sell cheap coffee!” I look at him, smiling. Africa and cheap, the guy seems to know how to join the dots huh? In return, he tells me he is here to look around for opportunities. We never have time to finish a conversation but I am sure he’s got some low-cost projects hanging in the air. It’s my turn and I approach the customs counter, confidently placing the scrap piece of paper on the counter. “I was told to get out and change money for my visa”, I say. The customs lady gives no look at myself, nor my scrap evidence of authority, yet nods her head. That’s it? Wow, that’s easier than I thought! As I put my carry bag through the security scanner, a few security staff is busy chatting, laughing happily as the conversation goes. One guy looks up as I pass the gate, gives me a huge smile and asks “USD?”. I return him with an equivalent huge smile and reply “yeah”. Hmmm, this USD business seems like a common thing here after all. There is a money changer on the left as I walk out to the baggage area. Unfortunately, the sign in front says “Closed”. What now? “This is getting kinda messy” I think to myself. Such time calls for patience. I smile and try to keep calm as I approach a security guard to ask for help. To my surprise, he smiles and points out to the exit door. “You can find many outside”, he says. This is cool! This is the first time I ever get out into a country without a passport. There’s always a first in anything you encounter on a life journey. It can be fun or it can be super annoying, depending on your attitude I guess. As I walk out to the waiting area, eyes of curiosity are on this Asian girl with a small carry bag, happily walking out in leisure, ready to take on anything waiting ahead. Like any other airport, people sit, stand, wait, and hurry around. Judging by the look, most of them are either from the Middle East or neighboring African countries. “Money first”, I remind myself of my mission as I easily get distracted by the foundational interest in observing the world around. There are about 6 money changers in front of the exit and my God!, they are all placed with long queues. Wow, this seems like a thriving business in Tunis. It takes almost half an hour in line just to get the money changed. The only thing that keeps me entertained while waiting is an old, black African Muslim guy sitting at the opposite coffee shop, looking all quiet, miserable, patiently waiting by his coffee. He does not seem to move much. For an instance, he reminds me of the lady who turns into a rock statue waiting for her never-returning husband from the war in a Vietnamese legend. As he patiently waits, I get my money changed and walks back in. I find it amusing making that re-winding trip back to the visa counter. Who gets to enter a country twice in one go? The lady gets her TND100 and I get my visa and passport back. Fair trade! “Don’t forget to check in at customs!” she reminds me. How’s that for a reminder? If I can get past customs without a passport, I certainly can get past it once again with one I guess. What an experience! The first encounter certainly paints an overall mood of a laid-back, easy-going, developing country where money and opportunities seem to set the scene. Palm trees & white, tiny-windowed houses welcome me on a sunny day as I leave the airport on this exciting journey to learn more about the history and people of Tunisia…. #carthage #northafrica #tunis #visa #Tunisia #attitude #passport #airport #life

Antaturk International Airport, June 15, 2013 It’s never fun taking a long overnight flight especially when one arrives at 5:30AM and yet having to wait for another flight to catch. At least I feel a lot better now that I can breathe after having been suffocated for the last 10 hours on the plane by the boldest & most confronting fragrance of eau de toilette coming from my next door neighbor. I guess sensual attraction works differently in different parts of the world but is definitely based on the universal foundation that we human beings forever long for others’ care and attention. That explains why we spend much time making sure we always look our best be it with the clothing, the make-up, the accessories, the fragrances, or the hairstyles…. What is there, however, behind that shiny & gorgeous packaging? Do people really care? In a world where packaging plays such an important part, it is no doubt challenging to bank on one’s inner values to make things work. What lasts in the long run, however, is definitely not that shiny & gorgeous can of emptiness!!! Breathing and smiling, I board my next flight to Tunis…. #shiny #packaging #makeup #innervalues #perspective #emptiness #clothing #life #eaudetoilette #accessories #gorgeous

Saigon, June 11, 2013 Most often I got asked which country, which city, and at times which journey pops out as my top favourite. What to say? The cities start looking alike. The sceneries stay on as great memories. The people all tend to become good friends. What then is THE ONE? I know for sure what one of my most favourite movies is though, Journey to the Center of the Earth, released 2008, directed by Eric Brevig based on the same novel written by Jules Verne. Wouldn’t it be marvelous to be on such a journey to explore the very core of what creating our perceived everyday phenomena? Some people call me a dreamer. I never seem to work very well with today’s practical world…. 2009, Year of the Ox, the dreamer finally took on that marvelous journey to the very core, though it’s not to the center of the Earth as Brendan Fraser may have wished. It is, after all, the once-in-a-lifetime journey to the very core of her heart and soul. “How do we find that intact core, unpolluted by the ugliness of life, uncorrupted by compromise, not weighed down by worry, nor weakened by fear?” There is obviously no one formula for the whole wild world. This dreamer was lucky to have packed some simple tools for her journey; honesty, an open mind, and the zest for change. Rough is the descriptive nature of the trip! Waiting patiently on the other side, however, is the transcient beauty of simplicity where one happily traverses space and time with seed of mindfulness, and towards fruit of the unknown. It is, by far, the most glorious adventure…. #worry #glorious #fruit #seed #trip #unknown #openmind #beauty #ugliness #change #perspective #space #journey #mindfulness #life #compromise #time #core #simplicity #adventure #fear #honesty

80 tuổi, một bộ đồ bà ba, một cây gậy, dì lò dò băng qua đường. Tôi giật mình lao ra nắm tay dì kéo lại. “Dì đi đâu đó?” “Qua thăm ông Nghiêm, ông bạn hồi cấp 1…. Nhà ổng bên kia đường.” Dì nhìn tôi cười, nét hồn nhiên của thời học sinh thoáng qua trên đôi mắt đã hằn vết thời gian. Hôm nay giỗ ngoại. Mỗi năm chỉ có dịp này là cả đại gia đình lũ lượt kéo nhau về quê. Đám cháu chắt bọn tôi thì thích tụ tập đàn đúm với nhau. Còn đối với dì, mỗi chuyến về Ngoại lại là một hành trình ngược thời gian, đưa dì trở về với ký ức của một thời vô tư lự. Ông Nghiêm ngồi trước cửa nhà, tóc bạc phơ. Dì bước vào. Hai mái tóc phủ sương. Hai cái ghế đẩu bằng gỗ mộc đã bị gió mưa bào mòn theo năm tháng. Vài câu hỏi thăm sức khỏe. Một mẩu giấy tưa vì xé vội. Một số điện thoại viết nghuệch ngoạc bằng cây bút bi đã chảy mực lem nhem. “Chắc cúng xong rồi. Thôi tui về nhe anh.” Ông Nghiêm gật đầu cười, lơ phơ hàm răng cái còn cái mất. Nghe mẹ kể hồi con gái dì đẹp lắm. Mấy anh trai làng cứ mê mẩn thập thò trước nhà, làm Ngoại cũng lo phát mệt. Sau này dì theo dượng tôi đi kháng chiến, cũng một thời oanh liệt. Giải phóng xong, dì ở Sài gòn tất bật chuyện gia đình, lo con, lo cháu, cũng chẳng mấy khi rảnh rỗi mà về đây chuyện trò với Ngoại. Rồi tai nạn ập đến. Dì bị quẹt xe trên đường đi chợ. Những tháng ngày còn lại, dì lúc nhớ lúc không. Bác sỹ bảo hộp sọ trước bị nứt, không gắn lại được, đành để như vậy cả đời. Tích tắc vậy thôi, cuộc đời dì hoàn toàn thay đổi. Ngày xưa hễ nhắc đến dì là tôi lại hình dung những bước chân vội vã, vài cái nhíu mày không vừa ý, và tiếng càu nhàu mỗi khi dượng tôi xuất hiện. Mười mấy năm trở lại đây từ hồi xảy ra tai nạn, dì chẳng mấy khi nói gì, chỉ cười mỗi khi nghe bọn tôi kể chuyện, và cứ một hai ngày lại giở lịch xem ngày đám giỗ Ngoại. Ngoại mất chẳng bao lâu sau khi dì bị tai nạn. Vậy là từ hồi rời khỏi nhà Ngoại đến giờ, hai mẹ con chắc chẳng có được mấy câu chuyện vuông tròn. Ngoại mất rồi, mỗi lần gặp tôi, dì chỉ nói có một câu “Dì nhớ Ngoại lắm. Nhớ nhà mình ở dưới quê lắm.” 70 năm, một khoảnh đời vội vã, chỉ để quay về ngồi đây trên chiếc ghế đẩu gỗ mộc, 2 mái tóc phủ sương, một ký ức đẹp về một thời vô tư lự trên miền quê Ngoại…. #Hạnhphúc #vôtưlự #quêNgoại #cuộcsống #vộivã #oanhliệt

Nó là ổ bánh mỳ duy nhất còn sót lại trong sọt. Mới có 10g sáng mà trông nó đã bèo nhèo xơ xác. Ừa mà từ lúc ra lò đến giờ cũng đã 6, 7 tiếng rồi chứ ít gì. Nằm đây một mình ngoài bờ tường bụi bặm của bến xe, dưới cái nóng hầm hập tháng 5 của Sài gòn, xung quanh mấy thứ rác rửi, nước thải vương vãi vô tội vạ thì ai mà chải chuốt cho được? Bến xe khách Chợ Lớn sáng thứ 7 thôi thì tấp nập, người ra kẻ vào ì xèo đến mà phát chóng mặt. Chẳng ai thèm quan tâm đến nó. Cái đồ bánh mỳ ế! Nó cũng chẳng hiểu tại sao nó còn ở lại. Cả đám ra lò cùng một lúc. Hồi đó, em nào cũng tươi mơn mởn, thơm phưng phức. Cậu Hùng Giòn, nghe ông chủ lò gọi vậy, vác cả đám ra bến xe từ tờ mờ sáng. Nó là đứa có chút mã nên cậu Hùng cho ăn trên nằm trước. Chả cần học marketing cậu cũng hiểu phải nhá hàng đẹp thì mới câu khách được. Cả đám còn lại bị cậu nhốt vào cái sọt mây phủ kín bằng một lớp vải bố gai. Nó cảm thấy hãnh diện vô cùng. Đằng nào nó cũng được tiếng là show girl chứ ít gì. Cậu Hùng còn phết thêm cho nó một lớp dầu ma-ki-dê. Bóng loáng và chảnh chọe, nó lim dim tận hưởng cảm giác đỉnh cao của sự nghiệp bamyshow. Huỵch! Một ai đó vô tâm quẹt chân vào cái sọt làm nó lăn lông lốc ra mặt đường. Chưa kịp hoàng hồn thì ào một cái, bà Năm bán hủ tíu bên lề đường lại tạt cho một chậu nước rửa chén vào đầu. Giấc mơ showbiz tuyệt vời của nó thoáng chốc đã mềm nhũn ra trong cái mớ nước lem nhem, lều phều đó. Tất cả bỗng dưng chỉ còn là ảo giác, ảo giác về sự hoành tráng tạm bợ, ảo giác về một giấc vỗ tay sặc mùi đố kỵ, ảo giác về những ánh mắt ngưỡng mộ đầy gian dối, ảo giác, ảo giác…. Chương cuối cùng của cuộc đời không còn chỗ cho sự hối hận. Giá mà nó được làm lại từ đầu. Nó xin làm một ổ bánh mỳ bình dị, sinh ra đơn giản chỉ để yêu thương và giúp đỡ mọi người, dù chỉ là một người khách qua đường không quen biết, trong cuộc đời ngắn ngủi này của nó. #Hạnhphúc #show #ảogiác #sựnghiệp #cuộcsống #đơngiản #yêuthương #showbiz #bánhmỳ

Macao, May 30, 2013 Paul picked me up at 10:30 for a coffee before sending me to the ferry terminal heading to Hongkong airport. As I was busy giving him a hard time on his serious man-in-black outfit, he pointed out at a massive golden statue by the river and asked me if I knew who that was. It’s the statue of a lady with a lenient face, but it did not cross my mind at that instant who exactly she was. “Not sure” I said. Paul raised his eyebrows in astonishment. For a moment there I thought I had commited a crime. “It’s Lady Bhuda, my dear! How could you not recognize Lady Bhuda being a Chinese and a Vietnamese?” “You mean that’s Kwan Yin?” I snapped back. “That does not look at all like Kwan Yin, man. That must be your Macau version!” Paul bursted out laughing but quickly paused when I posed the next question. “Tell me, what is she doing there by the river, all by herself, in Sin City?” There was no answer. Maybe one of the god fathers in this town got all twisted one day and thought he should show his mayflies some compassion? For 40 years, the casino industry here was monopolized, until 1999 when Macau was “rightfully”returned to mainland China. Since 2002, 5 more casino licences have been issued, making it a total of 6. The industry has been absolutely thriving. Newer, better, bigger casinos mushroom up on this land. And as I bid adieu to Sin City, greyish construction cranes are shadowing the city as new projects continue to blossom. After Wynn Macau, Sands China, Galaxy Entertainment Group, SJM Holdings, MGM China Holdings, and Melco Crown Entertainment, this town can surely hosts a few more to service endless number of mainlanders rushing here to erase past memories of the tough old days and to take a sneak peak of an unknown future. In a land of 1 million, half of which locals and the other half workers from surrounding Asian nations, the locals still get a hang of the industry under the protective local law allowing only Macau citizens to work in the gaming industry. Outsiders can take care of the rest, mostly services for gamblers. Just like monopoly being terminated 10 years ago, protective law won’t be able to keep up with this rate of development. The once winter-heaven-for-birds has turned concrete, leaving a tiny pond un-noticed amidst bullying structures, striking lights, and buzzing shuttle buses…. People come and go. Money comes and goes. Power comes and goes. Only Kwan Yin stands there, head down, trying to keep her prayers alive for the people of this city, and for all the broken dream seekers, here in Sin City…. #kwanyin #dream #macau #casino #purpose #perspective #ladybhuda #Macao #money #life #power #sin

Saigon, June 02, 2013 6:30AM and sunshine is wide awake. So am I…. That’s kinda unusual for a Sunday morning. I reach for my phone. And the message is there. “Vinh is no longer with us”. The message comes in around 6:25AM from an old colleague. I haven’t seen him for almost a year. If nothing happens today, he probably would not cross my mind on a Sunday morning. 23 years old when life is still waiting around the corner, he leaves us all for a bike accident. Memory is vivid and his naive smile haunts my morning. He’s been a good kid, never speaking much, hiding behind his camera, but he’s always there when you need some extra help. In a way, kiddo reminds me of myself in my childhood years, shy, silent though eager to help people around. As I drive along the way to bid my last farewell to kiddo, I wonder if life in Saigon will be the same without him. Will he be missed by the hustle bustle street rivers of Saigon during rainy seasons? Will he be missed by the tired muddy river he crosses every day? Will he be missed by the slow-dripping filter at his usual coffee corner? Will he be missed by the old silent temple on the way home from work? Has he ever been noticed? All too often people pass people by in this country of 80 million. Slowing down to breathe is a luxury. Stopping to see is an absolute fear of losing another opportunity lying ahead. Random kindness is on the verge of extinction. And so he is gone, coming into life bare-footed and leaving it bare-handed. Such is life, impermanence! Darkness waits for no one as the evening falls on Saigon. Farewell to sunshine! Have a safe journey, my dear! #kindness #breathe #perspective #life #saigon #fear #impermanent

Macao, May 29, 2013 Though Macao casinos never get me remotely excited, I am super content to catch up with an old Hongkong friend who has been working in Macau for the last 10 years. Having told him about the Venetian maze and my inability to navigate, he asks me to wait for him at the main lobby which is supposed to be the easiest place to find in this confusing complex. 6:30pm I make my way towards the direction of the main lobby. At least that’s where the arrow points. Not for long do I find myself lost in a casino with frozen-faced dealers, tense & tired looking gamblers, and idle & lost looking shadows of opportunists waiting around for the next bingo. After all, it is the City of Dreams for some…. No one looks at anyone. No one talks to anyone. All eyes are on the bets. I finally make it through the must-pass institution of dreams and make it to the other side of darkness, though it never leaves me. Faces of despair, anxiety, loss, and anger sadden my heart as I walk out to a Renaissance walk-way of painted walls and ceilings. My friend, Paul takes me to one of the so-called finest Japanese restaurant at the Grand Lisboa. Portugese, he says, seems a bit heavy for a small-eater like myself even though it is considered local food. “Sure” I say. With an old friend by one’s side, any food will do. As we are seated next to a Chinese couple, I couldn’t help but notice the awkward silence between them. The lady keeps taking photos of whatever on the table to share on whichever social networks. The guy is lost. He gives a bored look around just to find nothing entertaining. I certainly never look entertaining enough! And so he reluctantly picks up his phone, keeping himself busy with the smart screen. Neither looks at each other. Not a word uttered. All eyes are on the screen. “Let’s get out of here!” I request. I’d rather be on the streets where I can see life. And out we walk, through the old heritage quarter of Macau. Deja-vu! Amidst the bad tastes of flashing neon lights and glassy modern buildings are gorgeous relics of the blended Portugese and Chinese architectures, the old Portugese school, the elegant post office, the bold administrative building, the breath-taking Ruins of St. Paul cathedral, and my God! the creepy-looking but awe-inspiring red street with ancient Chinese houses, all painted in red! For the first time in Macau, I can feel the city…. The night ends up for us at a 30-year old small and quaint Chinese sweet shop on one of the tiny lane ways for almond and egg white sweet soup. Paul goes on and on about the heritage of Macau. At least we share the same topics. We both love heritage and culture. Paul sends me back to the City of dreams at midnight. The dreams are obviously getting more alive as the night runs out. Thousands of mayflies float around, hoping to be burnt. No one looks. No one talks. All eyes are on the bets. Why are they here on earth? Have they ever thought about a purpose in life? #dream #casino #purpose #perspective #Macao #life #earth

Nanjing, May 15, 2013 “How would you describe Nanjing people?” I asked Yibin, my Nanjing’s friend. “I would say people here are more hospitable, friendly and honest” said Yibin. Though I know Nanjing used to be the capital of the Ming Dynasty, I would not take anything for granted and expect too much from modern China. Glorious history and admirable ancient arts and culture never seem to prosper in today’s material world. 2 days in Nanjing is simply not enough especially when the meetings are back-to-back. Yibin insists however that I visit Confucius Temple. “You can’t say you’ve been to Nanjing without visiting Confucius”, said Yibin. That makes perfect sense and I’ve always been eager to pay respect to the great man who a few thousand years later still spreads his profound knowledge around the world. That is called Greatness. When we leave this world, how many of us can be remembered? It’s never been the wealth, the power, nor the struggles to get to the top. It’s always been the knowledge, the love, the kindness willingly shared. Success is what one achieves for oneself but greatness is what one achieves for others. The walk-way to Confucius Temple is masked with earthly desires, food, drinks, clothing, accessories, gifts, dry goods, even dry salted ducks on display racks along the walk-way. Man I was thinking more of literature and culture related stuff like books, brushes, calligraphy, Chinese paintings…. “Do you think it hurts Confucius to see this?” I asked Yibin. “Definitely” answered Yibin without a blink. “But there are a lot of Chinese people here, and they need to eat, drink, and shop. Simple as that!”. Fair enough! Being a great man, I am sure he wouldn’t mind the little things. The actual examination site of the Ming Dynasty is closed today, so we only get to enter the small newly-built museum in the area. There is no one here except myself and a few old Chinese couples sitting along the resting area. People are obviously busy shopping outside, millions of them. I notice a minibar display of sodas, iced tea, water, and soymilk outside the Great Emperor Kangxi’s calligraphy display though there is no service staff. Have a coke on him if that makes you stop and appreciate the Emperor’s philosophy. I am sure he wouldn’t mind either. There is very little to see, so I make my way out after 20 minutes. The walk-way is still packed. People are still eating, drinking, and shopping…. Yibin makes me stop for stinky tofu which I have learned to accept as I travel across China. This whole destination looks and feels more like a night market than anything. I walk on, feeling for Confucius. He must have been all lonely like I am now amidst the sea of people coming here every day to take photos, shopping, and getting a tick on their travel list. We learn to love them any way. “Wherever you go, go with all your heart”. #mingdynasty #confucius #nanjing #culture #china #travel #perspective #love #arts #life #knowledge