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

Xianyang International Airport, May 14, 2013 There seems to be a queue at the airline check-in counter. Practicing good global citizenship, I stand in line. First time flying Hainan airlines as China Eastern Airline decided to cancel their flight a few days ago while I still need to be in Nanjing for a scheduled meeting today. A 50-year-old China man behind suddenly cuts past and elbows his way forward. That’s ok. He’s a lot older than me and I can learn to respect the seniors. Out of nowhere, a 40-year-old looking lady makes her way forward. That’s ok. Ladies first. Being one, I can relate to that. It’s finanlly my turn to check in. Being a foreigner, I gotta wait for the bag to be screened through security before I can leave the check-in counter. Without a second wasted, the airline staff shouts out “next” as soon as he asks me to wait. Without a second wasted, a young 25-year-old looking guy pushes me aside, handing his ticket and ID card over the counter. I make an awkward jump sideways to secure my personal space. That’s ok. He may be late for his flight. It happens to us all once in a blue moon. The bag seems to go past and the check-in staff signals an ok for me to move forward to customs. Here comes another queue. Well, that’s part of life. You queue up to get your share of service. Everyone seems to respect order here and slowly wait for their turn though occassionally someone makes a quick move and rushes to a different, seemingly faster-moving line. That’s China. Take it or leave it! Placing my ipad and carry bag onto a plastic tray, I patiently wait for my turn to pass the screening device. A 15-year-old looking girl walks straight through. Man, I did not see that coming! The airport security agent does not seem to mind that. She checks the girl out and lets the kid move forward. That’s ok. Why the rush? I have plenty of time before boarding. Having figured out where gate 17 is, I walk backwards to a cafe that catches my attention on the way in, Hand-made Coffee it is called. The place is packed, so I walk right through to the back of the store and find a table in a left-over corner. It’s in front of the kitchen entry. No wonder no one wants it. That’s ok. I just need a caffeine fix for the morning and I’ll be right. A few China men slurp their noodle and gobble down their tea, looking all stressed out. Perhaps they would rather be somehwere else…. It’s boarding time. As always, I would wait for everyone to board before making my move. No drama. 19F it is. It’s a window seat though I’ve requested for an aisle seat at check-in. That’s ok. My life wouldn’t be any remotely different without an aisle seat. Getting past two middle-aged, broad-built China men, I seat myself down. Soon enough, I find myself having half a seat. The man on my left really makes himself at home. His right arm occupies the arm rest and his elbow literally knocks me from the side. That’s ok. I am built for half a seat. Why biting more than one could chew? I would share my airline meal with him if I could. I don’t need it and he is probably triple my size. The guy scares me though. He lures the whole pack of fried rice down his throat within 5 seconds. What if he chokes on it? I get all worried for him for a moment there but I must be delussional. He must have done this all his life. I must have failed to notice a mastery aura around him. Just wonder if he tastes anything in his fried rice. Can he taste the sun in the green bean? Can he taste the rain in the fresh looking carrot sticks? Can he taste love and care in each grain of corn? It has been a test to my understanding and practicing of loving kindness. How do we learn to love others despite being disadvanaged or upset in such challenging situations? For me, it is still a long way to the top…. #people #Heart #nanjing #xian #china #perspective #life

The first impression of Melaka is that of a small quiet town where the locals can smell the non-locals from afar. First cultural shock, “Registered taxis do not have meters. Only free-lance taxis do”. So I am told by the security guard look-alike standing at the taxi registeration counter right inside Melaka Sentral station. The best part of this taxi ride, however, is to find out that the taxi driver is 70 years of age and this job is his hobby #mallaca #melaka #travel

Shanghai, May 12, 2013 Excited to leave Shanghai for Xian, the much-talked about historical city in Shaanxi province, I rushed down to check out. The driver was already waiting for me in the lobby, looking all stressed out. “Please check out quickly ok?”, said the guy in Mandarin. “Sure”, I replied without a distant idea why. I know I have plenty of time before the flight. After all, I have a flight to catch, not him. Any way, one cannot survive thinking too much in China. Everyone rushes forward and sometimes you just have to allow yourself to be drifted with the flow. After checking out, I hurried out to get on the 7-seater Toyota that Mr. Chen has been the proud owner of for the last 6 years, yet is still in impeccable condition. Mr. Chen has been doing this small transport business for as long as he’s remembered though he only starts owning his vehicle for the past 6 years. He works real hard to keep his family well-looked after and his only daughter in college. I’ve been using him for 2 years every time I am back in Shanghai and we always share pleasant conversations about China on the road. All set and ready to go. I got on. The door was closed. Mr. Chen started the engine. Only then came the 20-yuan drama. A parking attendant walked over and they started a conversation. Just another one of those conversations between a driver and a parking attendant, who cares? And so I did not pay any attention whatsoever, keeping myself busy checking airport name and terminal number. All of a sudden, this conversation got really loud and unpleasant. The driver got off. They started yelling rigorously at each other. The parking attendant took out a walkie-talkie. With a Bruce Willis’s Die-Hard look, he screamed into the poor machine. “Yonghe please come immediately. Yonghe please come immediately”. I guess he was calling a security guard. “Yonghe please come. Someone is not paying the parking fee”, repeats himself numerous times. This was the first time I saw Mr. Chen in action. His face turned red, his voice harsh, his eyes those of prey-hunters making their kills. He as well yelled back, even louder. “You said it was free for 10 minutes. Told you it could just be another 2-3 minutes. 2 minutes over and you want to charge me? What bullshit!”. And on it went, back and forth, leveraging what I think a several-lifetime reservoir of discontentment, anger, hatred, and what have you. 15 minutes went past. The problem did not seem to get any where, if not worse. Conscious of my time to catch a flight, Mr. Chen backed off a bit and asked for how much. “20 yuans”, said the parking attendant. As soon as this number came out of his mouth, Mr. Chen went bezerk. If there were a 30-feet bear standing in front of him now, he would just smash it with the tip of his middle finger, let alone the 16-feet parking attendant. Fortunately then, another car pulled over and the other driver asked for direction to park. The parking attendant in a moment of distraction turned to the other car and moved a bit further from our car. Mr. Chen could not wait for a better opportunity. He quickly got on and off we went, out of the parking area, with a Fast-and-Furious move. “Man, that was close!”, said Mr. Chen. “He gotta be totally dumb to think I would pay 20 yuans for 12 minutes”. Mr. Chen went on for another 20 minutes about the incident, pouring his heart out until he noticed my absolute silence…. My mind was parked on the 20 yuans, a bit more than 3 US dollars. Since when the luxury of time is on sale for 1 yuan or 6 cents per minute? Doesn’t it sound like a cheap long-distance calling card? Let’s not debate the right and the wrong here. They are, after all, very relative concepts. Who gets to decide what’s right and what’s wrong in this world? What’s struck me is the level of intensity and violence such a small incident can turn out to be and the burden of emotional suppression these people carry with them through life, like an overflow waiting for that last drop of water. If only they could learn to journey inwards and find their goodselves, once again…. #lovingkindness #shanghai #china #perspective #journey #mindfulness #life