WYKAAO Blog
Members' Corner

(Through Rose-Coloured Glasses)

50 years ago in Hong Kong, adoration and worship of the West were the norm of the day.

Once, father brought us to a restaurant to learn British table manner, how to properly use the forks and knives, in what order they were used during the courses of dinner, how to cut and eat like a lady and a gentleman, where to put them when finished. It was quite a treat for us kids.

At home, we were still stuck with our Chinese-ness, we still used the chopsticks, all the time. But I have to admit, I didn’t know how to use them properly. As long as I could swing the two sticks open and close to grasp some food, and able to put them into my mouth, I was satisfied. I figured, that was all I need to survive, no matter how my parents scolded me.

Later in university, I was told superiorly by a British friend, “Chopsticks are for savages. For those who lived in the forest, using two sticks to pick up food to eat. We are more civilized, we use forks and knives.” Such conceit. I was stunned. I went home and determined to re-learn how to use the chopsticks properly.

The whirlwind of Ping Pong Diplomacy swept across the globe. Entered the dragon, onto the world stage. Although under a different social-political system, the economic power of China is unquestionable and enviable, by the whole world. The status of the Chinese has been on the rise, especially for the last few years.

Take Hollywood as an example. Many movies now depict actors at ease, using chopsticks, properly and skillfully, although they may still order by the numbers, still eat egg-rolls, drink wonton soup and ask for the fortune cookies, but they no longer laugh at our way of eating, or view the chopsticks as novelities, as strange and uncivilized behaviour.

Look around you in real life, in chinatown, more and more Canadian know how to order real Chinese dishes in restaurants, not just Dim Sum, and no more Dinner Combo. They bypass the forks, in favour of the chopsticks.

50 years later today, the wind is blowing from the other direction. The adoration turns East. The Chinese culture has finally established herself as another civilized alternative.

All these years, I have lost contact with my British friend. I should track him down one day and quote to him this, from “The King and I”.

King: You will order the finest gold chopsticks.
Anna: Your Majesty, chopsticks? Don’t you think knives and forks would be more suitable?
King: I make mistake, the British not scientific enough to know how to use chopsticks.

PS Do you know the famous Japanese lacquered chopsticks (Wakasa-nuri hashi) are produced in the City of Obama, Japan?

(Through Rose-Coloured Glasses)

I don’t like banquets, charity balls or any fund raising functions. Don’t get me wrong, I am no Uncle Scrooge. I am happy just to donate and simply get my tax receipt. But sitting around a table, with a group of strangers, trying to start up a conversation politely, just to kill time; before the first dish arrives, that’s a chore.

“How are you today?”

“I am Mike. Nice to meet you.”

“Today’s weather ………..”

“Going on holiday?”

These lasted at most 15 minutes, and then silence.

We wreck our brain trying to restart the conversation.

But weekend gathering with friends, that is a different kettle of fish. We don’t have to try hard to find a topic for conversation, it just flows easily. We are birds of the same feather after all.

During our university days, when together, we talked about courses to take, professors and assignments, boyfriends and girlfriends, or simply seeping a beer, watched a hockey game together.

In our final year, we talked about job prospect, job interviews or graduate school, and might be, a wedding date.

After graduation, that year, we were overwhelmed with weddings. During receptions, we talked about our new jobs, family planning and who was going to be the next victim.

The next year, all the wives came to the gatherings with big tummies. We stared at each other and laughed. Natrually the conversation fell on the due date, maternity experience and preparation. Childbirth classes, breathing technique, natural birth, mid-wife or obstetrician, on and on we kept talking.

Next year’s gatherings were noisy indeed, with so many babies crying like an orchestra. Obviously converstation was centered on how to raise a healthy child, what to feed a baby, their growth and milestones. “Johnny starts crawling already.” “Mary already knows how to say dada.” We compared notes. We were all proud parents. And these lasted for the next 5 years.

As the kids grew, our conversation was switched to the merit of private vs public schools, French Immersion or Montessori; and then later, concentrated on which piano teacher was best, was private tutoring necessary, and which saturday Chinese school. Eventually, which university, what faculties and courses to take. Decision, decision, work of the parents would never end.

Recent gatherings, we were talking about, which eye doctor is best for cataract or surgeon for colonoscopy, what to do for arthritis, high blood pressure and high cholesterol, what to eat and what not. “Are you retiring yet?” “going on a cruise, or China tour?” “Symptoms of PMS?”

Pretty soon, we will be talking about our good old days, our dwindling retirement funds, the nursing home and the funeral pre-plan.

Amen.