SEATTLE, WASHINGTON 2024

Amtrak Coast Starlight coach was 34 hours from Los Angeles Union Station to Seattle King Street Station. I was comfortable in the spacious front seat that could recline to 135 degrees. Three friends opted to experience this long ride with me. We brought along snacks and enjoyed each other’s company for miles of daylight scenery. Our Car #3 was all Seattle bound passengers, which was nice, because there were no coming and going at different stops. Two college-age young ladies, at our opposite aisle, both appeared to be traveling singly, each kept to herself the entire time. Is it easier to converse with strangers online, but not in person? A woman brought her chihuahua. Half way northbound in California, an inspector came to tell her she needed to leave the train at the next stop. The woman teared up and pleaded. A few stops later, she and her chihuahua returned to the same seats. The dog never did make any noise. To our surprise, we were allowed to pay for fine dining, which were normally reserved for sleeper passengers. For $45, it was a delicious 3 course meal with one alcoholic drink plus a variety of soft beverages. The trick to sleeping on coach was to cushion my lower back, wear a cupped eye mask, and pull up my flannel blanket.  

Don’t bother to look for or buy the ORCA card as advised on websites. The King Street Station did not even have bus/metro ticket machines. In the dark hours of 8:30 pm, we just got on the bus. Passengers on Bus #1 toward Belltown were a few raggedy types, slumped over in their seats. The bus driver waived our fares. A standing fellow told us, “it’s ok.” At night, downtown’s prime intersections looked sad. Graffiti walls complemented the down and outs scattered against storefronts or plopped face down on sidewalks. No tents in view was unusual for this visitor from Los Angeles.  

Seattle's melancholy weather, people's calmer demeanors, and the city's high-tech legacy enhanced the city’s sophisticated feel. There were fewer junk food franchises. Liquor with a meal was widely available. Highrises sustained elegance in form and function, showcasing an artistic and mindful architectural community. We stayed at an Airbnb near the Space Needle. Our unit was 600+/- square feet, but it had 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms with spacious living and window views. The Space Needle was “Star Trek’s” version of a futuristic cityscape. Frank Gehry’s Museum of Pop Culture may be his best work. The University of Washington campus looked “ivy league.” Amazon, UPS, Starbucks, REI, Bill Gates all made prominent landmarks to commemorate their success.  

1942

Gates Foundation 

 

SPECIAL THANKS to Elizabeth!  My friends and I had wished to visit the Japanese American Exclusion Memorial Park 3.2 miles away.  There was no public transportation in Bainbridge Island on Sunday. We met Elizabeth and her son while waiting for breakfast at the fabulous Madison Diner.  Incredibly she offered us a ride there and back.  Meeting such a beautiful person was the absolute highlight for us. God Bless her and hers.  Elizabeth is the CEO of Prakash Organic beauty products:  www.prakashog.com 

We tried Pike Place Chowder as recommended by every YouTuber introducing Seattle. Indeed it was flavorful, but salty. My takeout tab added a 20% tip by default, and the same was on my friend’s tab. I wrote to their management with a screenshot of my statement charge. We must check our receipts even on takeouts anywhere! Unexpectedly I received a full refund to my credit card. Chowder-wise, Ivars Seafood Bar’s was smooth, flavorful, and loaded with clams without over saltiness. And $5 less for the same size. 

Metro 1 Line (not to be confused with Bus #1) for a $3 adult ticket was the public transportation to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. Long walks to and inside the terminal, and then a train connection were necessary to reach Gate S6. Security check was tough, I went through it 3 times. Second time because I forgot to place my cell phone in the bin. Third time was that my tablet was inside my carry-on. That's another reason to take the train. 

HONG KONG 2023

My Story 

During the 1967 anti-colonial government riot, my family left our one and a half units in the resettlement tenements of Li Cheng Uk 李鄭屋邨徙置區 to emigrate to America. 

The 7-story tenement was genius. There were 19 stacks in our “estate.” And there were more such estates in Kowloon. The British were top notch at reorganizing chaotic populations. They had to deal with the influx from Mainland, and displaced squatters from encampments that were destroyed by fire, etc. In the end, they housed everyone, albeit, into 120 square feet concrete cells that came with just a wooden window and a wooden door, and no built-in electricity, gas, or water. It was up to the occupants to cope and alter any way they must. There was no code or occupancy limit to slow anything down. Each floor had a men and a women toilet-rooms, and a men and a women bring-your-own-bucket bathing-rooms with stalls but no doors, which were near the faucet-room for easy water access. I dreaded dim and sweaty floors, with unsanitary edges, corners, and occasional flying or crawling bugs. Unlike other kids, I could never be barefooted in these rooms. My mother bought me wooden clogs to wear.  Kindergarten was on the top floor. Again, a perfect designation, as kids could not be lost coming and going.  Alas, climbing the steps to and from 7 stories was obligatory exercise.  Street level units, taking advantage of walking traffic, were generally home shops.  Street level had the additional perk of having a foot-wide drainage gutter that ran the length of all four sides around the building, where dumping liquid, including peeing was convenient.  Inevitably the gutter had clutters of wastes too, but somehow a flow was maintained. My mother placed a board in front of our unit, for me and our cat to cross. During rain or typhoons, children made paper boats to float down the gutter.  Our “kitchen,” like every neighbor’s, made use of the threshold just outside our unit.  My mother cooked on a portable kerosene stove, had a few utensils and pots, and a big tank that held water fetched from the faucet room.  There was no storage, so my mother bought groceries every day from street vendors.  Bargaining dimes and nickels was customary and sociable that all parties enjoyed.  Vendors efficiently tied up fish, meat, or vegetables for carry away with salt-water grass strings. No bags.  Unfortunately this no cost and eco-friendly practice had vanished from the world.  Between tenement buildings was pedestrian open space for activities such as laying out food items to dry, traveling performances, peddling goods, children running amuck, and in most evenings, residents relaxing. 

My two older brothers slept in the half unit on the 5th floor in another building, where despite being only 120 square feet, the unit was 2 separate dwellings by a dividing wall. An adult lady, who worked as a maid for foreigners, occupied the other half. When she was gone, she had temporarily sublet her side.  Once, it was to a man, who piled mounds of quail size chocolate Easter eggs against the dividing wall, such that the presence of a hole tempted us children to dig through it.  Chocolate was a rare treat.  The lady had taken me to see American movies, because a child could share a seat without paying.  I saw many western sagas, including Clint Eastwood's.  I loved the gunfights and horses without any need to know the plots. 

My father made use of his street level 120 square feet as our home and metal workshop.  He built a ceiling loft, accessed by steps from the shop, where my mother and I slept.  At night after the shop tidied up, my father slept in a portable canvas cot.  

Our shop first produced painted silver hooks that anchored Venetian blind strings.  My father self-taught tool die and mode casting for chopping sheet metal into hook shape.  We had other mechanical machines to bend pieces and drill holes.  Somehow electricity was connected.  It was dirty hard work.  My oldest brother started working full time along with my parents; he barely finished elementary school.  Child labor was common.  My father’s business took off when his sturdy metal knitting stands became known to new textile factories.  A metal “business card” was secured onto every stand, like an artist’s signature, to facilitate new orders.  Men in suits had visited our little shop for orders of over 100 stands.  Everyone worked; I held metal beams while my brother drilled. My mother and other brother painted the frames in oil based battleship gray.  When necessary, we hired neighbors to get the orders done. 

Privacy was unusual.  One neighbor on our street level managed to never socialize with anyone. She was a “Susie Wong.” Her little girl was always home alone with the door closed.  The shop to our right was 余九記; this metal workshop had several live-in hired men.  Once they stole my brother’s dog and cooked it.  My brother cursed them into the night.  The shop to our left was a man who sold aquarium fish.  He had basins and buckets spread out beyond his shop everyday to entice passersby.  Clusters of tiny red worms in plastic water filled bags were a hot sell.  The first shop at the corner was a cheong-saam tailor. His wife was always pregnant; they had 5,6, or 7 kids. Their very old grandma still helped out, and could thread through a needle at night under minimal light without eyeglasses.  I remember one of their children was my friend, but suddenly she was gone.  Sometimes I got a dime to go across for snacks from 潘齒香 .  Across too was my favorite shop 黃興記, a stationery store that also made ritual products for burning to the underworld.  Colored tissues covering bamboo stick frames made into cars, and mansions with furniture (much like a doll's house).  I had two friends my age that lived on the second floor (aka US first floor).  They started working in factories at age 14.  Everyone loved playing mahjong. My friends and I learned how to play before attending kindergarten.  My other friend lived across, next to the snack shop. She married at 15 to get away from her stepmother, who was in fact a quiet and kind woman, and who occasionally got beaten by her father.  Somehow we lived thriving lives with almost nothing left to lose.  Thanks to Stephen Chow’s movie “Kung Fu Hustle,” for bringing the old neighborhood back to life. 

2023 

Like sandcastles on the beach, wiped out by the tides, all of the above was gone without a hint left.  I located our tenement based on 中聖學校 a nearby elementary school. The Han Tomb 李鄭屋古墓 entrance with two stone lions, where I used to hang out wondering what was inside, had been completely remodeled since my prior visits.  Unfortunately the grander newer look only made this ancient tomb look anonymous and bland. To replace 7-story with 27-story housing was justifiable, but not all renovation for the sake of renovation was good. 

On this visit I also ventured out to Kowloon Walled City 九龍寨城. This 6.5 acre (0.01 square mile) of housing jungle that had housed 50,000 people was wiped out too. Dedicated to its memory was a beautiful and serene Han garden. 

Housing the Hong Kong growing population has historically been a primary worry. Land owners have little incentive to develop more residences to compete with their existing real estates. The government and people are on their knees needing more land to develop. Already residential highrises had blocked the horizon. My friend lives on the 32nd floor. 

Am I now a stranger in my motherland? I visited Macau, Wanchai, Aberdeen, Hong Kong Central, Sham Shui Po. I recognized the same never-say-die people focusing on making a living like my father did, and the same cut to the chase attitude that made them brilliant in survival. Beyond memories, the only connection I now hold on to was friends I met on this and prior times. Through them, I saw myself in a parallel universe, growing up with Hong Kong. 

SPECIAL THANKS to Winnie and 阿景, Candy, 阿忠 and Feddy, Winnie and Sam, Ivy and Ming, and Leo. 

IN MEMORIAM: 李俊國

TRANS CANADA 2023

PASSPORT  What may be the worst thing that could happen on an international trip, besides illness or injury?  During my Toronto Pearson Airport's connecting flight to Halifax, I forgot my US passport at the Canadian Customs and Border Control scanner!  Having exited that room, there was no going back.  No amount of pleading to Information, Air Canada, and Airport Police helped.  I could only complete a Lost Report on Pearson's Lost and Found website.  

Being already in Canada, my California Real ID was good for their domestic flights and trains.  I continued to Halifax.  According to US Consulate websites, Emergency Passport was by appointment only.  Montreal, Toronto, Vancouver were fully booked for over a month.  Scouring the internet, my 2 dozen calls got only useless recordings and endless music on hold.  Canadian public employees on strike was the excuse.  Dead ends everywhere.  What else to do?  I prayed for a Miracle.  Just then, at 2am, the "Emergency Abroad" phone number caught my attention.  

Miracle began:  At that wee hour of the morning, someone answered!  The sympathetic agent advised me to send an email to American Citizen Services.  I emailed the one in Toronto.  An auto rejection email came quickly. Amazingly the fine prints explained that other proof of citizenship could be used for border crossing by land, and explained how to word the Subject Line for urgent cases.   I re-worded my email and made a backup Amtrak reservation.  Instant relief, Hallelujah!  Next morning I awoke rested and happy.

Amtrak out of Canada was good enough, but my Miracle continued.  Toronto's US Consulate emailed me an appointment on the exact date I requested.  On the day, the process only took minutes.  An officer accepted my documents, told me to return at 2pm.  I got my Emergency Passport.  Thanks to the US Consulate.  Praise God.

HALIFAX  Express Bus 320 from the airport to downtown stopped right across The Barrington Hotel.  Walking around to a ferry crossing, I rode to Dartmouth, and then rode right back, as there wasn’t much to see.  Downtown was pleasant, but beyond 6pm, even on a Friday night, shops on the streets and in the Scotia Square mall were mostly closed.  At 45° F the Waterfront was deserted.  Fortunately the Bluenose II restaurant, a down slope block from the hotel, was warm and homey for dinner. 

The Maritime Museum was an eye opener.  There were two major events on this eastern coast:  In 1917, French SS Mont-Blanc carrying WWI high explosive was T-boned by Norwegian SS Imo carrying relief cargo.  Mont-Blanc then veered into the Halifax Harbor, wiping out 1.6 mile radius of people and structures in an instant.  Five years earlier in 1912, Halifax dropped 119 Titanic victims back into the sea when embalming supplies ran out. They buried 150.

The Titanic tragedy displayed raw human flaws:  1) VANITY:  White Star Line decided on only 20 lifeboats, which could only accommodate 1178 of 2,240 (if full 3,320) passengers.  The idiot captain skipped the emergency drill.  Therefore chaos, including losing two boats, 472 seats were unused.  Trusting that the Titanic was “unsinkable,” 1st and 2nd class gentlemen played up the decorum of ladies and children first.  This blindness was hailed as gallantry, especially by White Star Line, to deflect their faults and to deter lawsuits.  2) CLASSISM:  While the first boat only had 5 1st class passengers (3 men, 2 women) and 7 crew members, the 3rd class steerage was always locked to prevent passengers from “spreading diseases” to upper levels, but in this tragedy, from escaping sooner.  Not giving up the chance to survive was not cowardice.  57 1st class men were saved, while 146 3rd class women and children died. The difference was that 1st class had a choice to leave sooner.  3) RACISM:  Were there Asians on the Titanic?  6 of 8 Chinamen on board in 3rd class and the only Japanese man on board in 2nd class survived. In the era of Chinese Exclusion, aside from immediate suspicion and ridicule of these 7 paid passengers, their survival feat was not deemed worthy of Titanic history, not until Director Arthur Jones’ 2020 documentary, "The Six" (watch here). The Japanese man, upon returning to Japan, got fired from his government job and ostracized by his people for not dying.  They blamed him for not abiding by the white gentleman’s way of women and children first.  Men first was the norm in 1912 Meiji Japan.  4) JUDGMENT DAY:  Was a mother or a daughter more worthy than a father or a son?  Was a child with a longer future more worthy than an elder with life experience?  Staring at imminent death or life, who played God to decide anyone's fate?  1st class first? WTF!

TRAINS  Riding on slow old trains clinking and clanking, jerking and tossing for miles and miles was oddly therapeutic to me.  Why not go faster by plane, faster by car, cheaper by bus?  Train passengers are a strange lot.  I revered old rail tracks too, for they were laid with blood and guts.  I had to go before they were gone.

Canada's VIA "The Ocean" was 22 hours from Halifax to Montreal.  Coach was spacious and comfortable, until a big burly guy sat next to me for several hours with his elbow halfway into my space.  My other complaint was the ceiling lights were lit all night; I lowered my hoodie and wore sunglasses. "The Corridor" was only 5 hours from Montreal to Toronto.  Montreal VIA station had good food stalls. I especially liked the beautiful French pastries.  The highlight of the VIA was “The Canadian,” 4 nights from Toronto to Vancouver.  “Sleeper Plus” lower berth included a big window turned out to be the best choice.   On the first night, the attendant made up the bunks after dinner. She was supposed to transform the bunks back into 2 facing couches each morning, but everyone preferred the bunks left as beds through all 4 nights.  Once the drapery was drawn, my cubbyhole with changing window view was a private oasis.  Car 113 had 3 sets of upper/lower bunks for a total of 6 passengers.  The car had a drinking water dispenser, and separate boy's and girl's toilet rooms.  A farther shower room was shared with other cars.  Electric outlets for charging were inside the toilet rooms.  Both upper/lower bunk passengers could stow luggage and shoes, with a 9 inch height limit, on the floor under the lower bunk.  Sleepers included meals.  My choice was eggs, hash brown, bacon, toast, coffee and juice every morning.  Filet mignon, pork tenderloin, prime rib, and rack of lamb were my 4 dinner entrees.  Ontario was still a snow and ice winter wonderland in April.  Manitoba was flat and golden like the old west.  Saskatchewan was flat too, but greener.  Alberta and British Columbia were the showstoppers with majestic and tranquil rocky mountains, waterfalls, lakes, vegetation, animals, and birds.  At the bunks and during meals, fellow passengers naturally developed rapport.  Pia, a girl from Germany, got off at Saskatoon to volunteer at a farm.  Simon, a boy from Switzerland, my upper bunk mate, will drive around Canada for 3 more weeks after Vancouver. I met Libretta, who studied Theology and Siyeon, who was deciding career and boyfriend, both from Korea but were students in Toronto, and Kuniko, a girl from Japan.  Emil, a small child, who knew a lot about trains, was traveling with his Hong Kong Chinese mother and Montreal French father.  As meal tables were unassigned, I sat with different people and exchanged usual introductions each time. 

MONTREAL TORONTO VANCOUVER  Landscape and climate may vary at different latitudes, but most metropolises in the developed world are similar now.  Familiar franchises, recognizable transportation modes, universal social practices, each Canadian town felt like home to me in just 2 or 3 days.  I visited museums and must’ve seen every Monet and Picasso distributed all over the world.  A culture shock was the combination of 2 taxes on every bill that amounted to 11%.  Tag on a minimum of 15% tip, be prepared to pay a lot for a restaurant meal.  I loved ethnic neighborhoods, but neither Montreal nor Vancouver's Little Italy could I find spaghetti and meatballs for lunch.  Besides pizza, real Italian restaurants were closed until 5pm.  I ventured further out to Vancouver’s Little India, which turned out to be a good hub of Indian shops, restaurants, and a market.  I had authentic Punjabi chicken masala.  It was delicious, but so spicy that I had to toss the leftover.  

A special thanks to Sammy (2018 trans-Siberian) for a whole rainy day of driving and hosting me from Toronto Chinatown to Markham’s Pacific Mall, to Vaughan Mills, to lunch at The Red Sichuan, and to meet his daughter Wendy’s lovely family.  Sammy is a kindred spirit in world exploration.

INCIDENT  I was on the SkyTrain heading back to downtown from Little India. It was an hour-long ride when I spotted a chubby white dude, about 30, with his pants down, baring and exposing his privates from waist down to his ankles.  For many stops, no one reacted.  Finally, I Skype called the transit police. Officers came on 2 stops later. The dude quickly pulled up his pants, but too late; officers saw him.  An officer copied my photo evidence.  The train was safe again.  Glad to help, Vancouver!

NORDIC CRUISE & LONDON 2022

Life as we knew it abruptly detoured after COVID.  Aside from obvious tragedies of death and restrictions, "COVID" was the almighty answer to inconveniences and complaints:  Inflation? Bad service?  Homeless? No job? Worker shortage? Out of business?  Relationship crisis? Bad hair? "COVID!" Now 2½ years since the pandemic declared in March 2020, with cautious people vaccinated, and invincible ones alive by God's Grace, mind-over-matter, at some point the show must go on!  

So I joined friends on a 16-day cruise. For half the pre-COVID price, luxury was barebone, but attentive service was kept, and crispy white tablecloth at dining made any meal special.  I enjoyed seeing the choppy Nordic seas, the break of dawns and sunrises, and the phantom Northern Lights. 

Denmark, Norway, Iceland seaports

Grundarfjordur Iceland, on way to Gufu Fall. Thanks to Anita Lee for capturing the moment.

I had imagined these were desolate places, that I would visit meteor lands inhabited by superhumans, who could tolerate isolation, extreme weather, months of darkness, and limited resources. A drabby existence, I had thought.

Instead they were quaint little towns with modest utilitarian houses and buildings.  The town center, usually walkable from the cruise port, would have the quintessentials: a church, a pharmacy, a liquor store, a not so super market, a museum, and a few "must see" relics. Beyond these specks of civilization would be Earth's expansive wonders of waterfalls, craters, volcanic presences, and in September, green vegetation everywhere for herds of plump white lambs to graze on.  Roads were few but strategically located with few or no traffic lights and speed signs. Drivers simply behave mindfully.  I was pleasantly shocked that cars always slowed or stopped even unnecessarily to accommodate my crossings. There's a consistent middle-class feel in these towns devoid of richer or poorer neighborhoods.  Locals seem to pursue well being over superfluous.  Rarely did I see "sale" signs to entice impulse shopping; prices were not cheap, but things looked good quality.  Even in Reykjavik, the metropolis in Iceland, there were no neon districts with flashing marquees.  Their iconic landmark, shaped like a rocketship ready to take off into heaven, was the Church of Hallgrímur.  

As I stepped back into the cruise ship, a thought dawned on me:  Nordic towns are the last sanctuary for White culture.  God Bless these lands and their people.

London

The two colossal winged human-headed lions that had guarded Nimrud's royal palace, and the gigantic standing lion that guarded the Temple of Ishtar were in the British Museum!  What else did the British have? The Westminster Abbey max'd out on burial and memorial spaces, but amazingly they managed to bury Stephen Hawking there. Maybe due to the crowding, Queen Elizabeth II and her husband rested at Windsor Castle instead. Their own stuff was a lot, imagine their hauls of the best and the most from every part of the world.  I was wrong to think that the Victoria and Albert Museum was a smaller venue, but just the jewelry collection alone, from 1500 BC to the present, took two floors covering all the walls and middle area display cases.  Whereas the Roman and most other empires now require us to imagine their grandness from piles of remaining rubbles, London showcases the British empire's undeniable magnificence. In fairness, I must admit that through their conquers and colonization, the British had done some good along the way.  Thanks to them for housing and preserving the incredible amount of artifacts that may otherwise be gone in their original countries.

Queen Elizabeth II passed away just days before my visit to London.  I saw her funeral procession on TV.  How the Brits love their royalties is understandable, I think because of this woman.  I'm not sure if there had ever been a classier person.  She was the epitome of British etiquette and the trusted face of the country. She did it for 70 of her 97 years, perfectly.  That's the duty she took on.  No b*tching and headlines. 

CALIFORNIA COAST 2022

COVID is still looming over the world, now into the third year with no end in sight.  The WWW states that historically, pandemics last 3 years, and then fade into more manageable strains.  Let’s hope and pray. 

Santa Cruz, Monterey Bay, Pacific Grove, Salinas, and Carmel  

Thanks to my friends Anita and Irene for driving their car.  Away from our TVs and couches, an outing to these northern California towns was sensational!  We had fabulous food (Crow’s Nest, Mosaic, Zoccoli’s, Salinas City BBQ, Rosine’s, Coniglio Brothers Italian Deli, The Butter House, Ambrosia, Goodies Delicatessen, Sweet Reba, Crossroad BBQ, Paris Bakery, Old Fisherman’s Grotto), and saw plenty of dramatic coastal sceneries. We were happy to have met individual folks who had just stopped to chat with us like old friends.  A street vendor with whom we talked about world traveling gave me a string of mini Tibetan prayer flags. 

Point Lobos Chinese building 1850's

Along the way, I was also in search of Chinese in America’s history, only a few remnants left. In 2019, a Dragon Archway honored the 4 Santa Cruz Chinatowns that were wiped out by flood or by mysterious fire. John Steinbeck’s novel "Cannery Row" depicted the “Lee Chong Market,” which was an alias for the Wing Chong Market. The market is now Kristonio, a gift shop. Like other Chinese villages, the Chinese in Cannery Row were gone after a night in flames. Only a small wooden Wing Chong sign was left to identify their prior existence. There were photos and objects from Chinese, Japanese, Portuguese occupants on display at Whalers Cabin at Point Lobos Reserve.  Docent Dan said the cabin was built by Chinese fishermen.  And the Pacific Grove Museum showed a good attempt to revive the history of the Chinese with a permanent display of photos and articles.  

During the time of 光復香港 時代革命 (Hong Kong 2016-2020), I happened to speak with a young man freshly from Hong Kong. I asked him, what if China was taken up by other countries, such that China was gone from the world's map?  The young man did not hesitate for even 2 seconds. He replied that it would be fine with him.  

It almost happened in the early 1900s. 八國聯軍(Great Britain, United States of America, France, Germany, Russia, Japan, Austria-Hungary, Italy) by justification of protecting their ambassadors from 義和團 (The Boxers) ,  plundered and pillaged in a grab-a-thon frenzy.  Some of the loots are still in The British Museum. To amass territory, countries even battled each other on China’s grounds.  The loser, China, signed away land, leases, and debts. 

Chinamen were only tolerated as a source of cheap and reliable labor.  In spite of the Anti Coolie Act, but because few white men were stupid enough to get themselves killed dynamiting tunnels and shoveling 20 pounds of rock over 400 times a day to build the transcontinental railroad, in 1864 the Central Pacific Railroad Company went to Canton. The brave, the hopeful, the desperate, signed up, but to find out too late that they could not bring family members, that white women were off limits, that they get half of white men's pay, that it was a one-way ticket, that they were deemed less than an animal in America.  

Until the awakening of minorities in the spirit of the Civil Rights Movement, and Rainbow Coalition in the 1960s, Chinese immigrants' sacrifices, contributions, even existence, were mostly annihilated in American history. 

It was Easter Sunday 4/17/22.  Our first stop in the morning was the Evergreen Cemetery.  Kate, a volunteer who came to clean tombstones, was so kind as to show us the Chinese memorial area and told us a bit of history.  There were more than 150 Chinamen buried there.  Many died from poisonous gas or explosions from building 6 railway tunnels.  This small cemetery built in 1850 was the only option in Santa Cruz for anyone non-Catholic.  A plot cost $7.  By now most of the Chinamen’s remains were transported back to their homeland. RIP.  In 2014, Mr. George Ow, Jr. funded a memorial to honor those early Chinese immigrants–fishermen, railroad workers, servants, and farm laborers.  The least we could do was go pay our respect.

Amid segregation, hostilities, and all kinds of outrageous impositions, the Chinamen survived by offering services that were too cheap to refuse.  The Chinese laundry was a lifeline that became an American icon; in fact, there were no Chinese laundry in China.  If they were bullied out of gold mining or fishing, they turned homegrown bean sprouts into “gold” by inventing American chop suey.  On this visit, my friends and I sought to pay homage to those folks whose struggle and suffering gallantly paved the way for future Chinese Americans. 

All Lives Matter 🇺🇲

Peace and Joy 🌎

WASHINGTON DC 2021

According to online information, when Hotel Harrington opened in 1914 in the heart of Washington DC, it was an impressive hotel, decked out in marble and mahogany, and boasting running water and private baths in most rooms!  In the 1930's it was the first DC hotel with air-conditioning! 107 years and 10 million+ guests later, I checked in for 9 nights despite some thumb down Yelp reviews. In my opinion, management kept up with proper hospitality, and was even charitable to charge so affordably for stays in the District's most prime location. I gave it 5-stars on Tripadvisor.  

Abraham Lincoln on 10th Street NW:  One block from Hotel Harrington was Ford's Theater.  Across the street from Ford's was a house with a sign that read "House Where Abraham Lincoln Died."  As the White House was just 5 blocks away, I visualized that on that fateful day, the President had the unfortunate whim to go to this nearby theater for some much needed R&R.  The play was a comedy.  While he was easing his mind on the worries of the country, evil was aiming at him.  Where were the bodyguards?  He fell, and then they all showed up.  They carried him to that house across the street.  

I was approaching "Lincoln's Waffle Shop" when a passerby asked me for money.  I replied him a flat "no."  He said, "Asians never give money."  Race always has to come up about anything in America.  The waffle shop looked like a vintage American cafe, but the staff members around were all Asians.  He went in, and so did I.  Yelp was right, their waffle was at least 4 stars. 

George Washington as Zeus?  In Greek mythology, Zeus is the ruler, protector, and father of all gods and humans.  On this visit to Mt. Vernon and to the American History Museum, I learned that George Washington was certainly a genius leader and war strategist.  Possibly, America's Independence wouldn't even happen without such a man at the right time and right place.  He started out fighting for the British at age 20; two years later he had already risen up as Lieutenant Colonel for colonial Virginia. Although he, at age 26, succeeded at driving out the French at Fort Duquesne, a feat that no British General could, his request to become a British military officer was refused--bad mistake by the British!  A month later he quit and  went home to civilian life as a farmer and plantation owner.  April 1775, shots were fired kicking off the American Revolution.  Two months later, at 43, Washington was appointed Commander in Chief of the new Army.  Immediately he devised to stand out to his men as top dog by dressing the part, distinguishing his uniform from lesser officers, even outdoing foreign commanders. To fire up his men, he had the Declaration of Independence read before battle.  How to fight 50,000 British with only 5,000 his own?  Washington was familiar with his opponent, having personally served in the British army.  With hometown advantage, he deployed spies, espionage, and sabotage.  Three years later the French joined in; two years later, the British withdrew officially.  Then Washington resigned immediately after the job was done.  He had brain, brawn, and bravery.  As President, he served 2 terms and refused further, setting an example that an American President must not be a permanent king.  In my art critic's point of view, the statue of George Washington done as Zeus in 1840 was so over the top, that it is a conceptually brilliant piece today.  

African American History Museum: 

The building's shape is industrial geometric, invoking the stacking up of 3 upside-down pyramids.   It has a stately presence no less, but completely different from the neoclassical buildings throughout Washington DC.  Black metallic exterior facades with systematic cutout patterns that daylight screened through and into the museum's interior.  Awesome.  

I must had started the museum in reverse order.  The top floor was a floor of triumph.  On exhibit were Black People's accomplishments and contributions in every facet of America's past and present.  

But the storytelling actually began, seemingly aptly, at the museum's basement level, which documented the violent predicaments of human trafficking and slavery throughout the world.  Europeans basically kidnapped Africans for labor and for trading as commodity to all continents. Be the person's skin was red yellow brown black or white, even a child could recognize that people were people.  Such was humanity's innate savageness and greed, that even our country's brilliant founding fathers owned slaves.  Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and George Washington had at times lamented that keeping slaves was wrong.  (To his credit, Washington freed all his slaves upon his death.)  Nevertheless, at the time, they reconciled those lofty words on the Declaration of Independence, "that all men are created equal" to exclude women, because women were not "men," and to exclude Blacks, because slaves were considered only 3/5 of a person.  Pre and post American Independence from 1610-1865 had been 246 years, that was 10 generations of legalized abuse toward a people.  And then by abolishing slavery, the courageous president was murdered. Our country shall continue to strive toward these Godly inspired words,  "...that all men are created equal." Amen.

Revisiting Washington DC with 3 friends:  During this time of COVID outing restrictions, I thought DC was the best choice.  Museums housing our nation's best collections were fantastic treats.  Having friends was great fun on the road.  We enjoyed the following eateries:  Harry's Restaurant, Eastern Market, Lincoln's Waffle Shop, Zaytinya, The Wharf in DC, Mekki D, Joy Luck Restaurant, The Wharf in Alexandria, Union Market, El Rinconcito Cafe, Thip Khao, Umaya DC, Rasika, Fiola Mare in Georgetown, The Warehouse in Alexandria.  Thanks to Helen, Anita, and Irene!

God Bless America!

ROAD TRIP 2021

PRELUDE: The COVID experience

Not everyone has the luxury of "safer at home." At the worst of times, there were folks out braving the pandemic to provide aides and services, in order for the general public to sustain some semblance of normalcy in our daily lives. I salute them. I especially salute those in health, safety, and law enforcement, who continued to serve and protect in the midst of mob resentment and mistrust. Public pressure to "defund the police" led to a $150 million cut from LAPD's budget. As the news continues to report drive-by killings, racial hate crimes, and just senseless violence all the time, heed that no one but criminals shall benefit from less law enforcement. Insanely, Texas has started a bill to do away with gun licensing. Someday cops could be out-gunned at the OK corral.

Praise the Lord, COVID vaccines were developed in record speed of less than a year. The FDA forewent its normal red-tapes, averaging 8 years, and immediately allowed them for emergency use in December 2020. By December, US COVID deaths reached 300,000+, and yet, as seen on Youtube, many Trump groupees continued to risk endangering themselves and others rather than complying with masking up. The 2nd wave of COVID deaths started to climb in October 2020 and hit a crescendo in mid-January 2021. The hike was mostly attributed to gatherings during the winter holidays, but did all those bare faced attendees at Trump’s pre and post election rallies really escape the virus unscathed?

"O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties, Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed His Grace on thee!"

Thanks to Sean and Deniet for driving 5000+ miles. Thanks to Phan for choosing every spectacular sight. Thanks to Mai for saving us much money by planning wisely. Thanks to Bill and Fanny for our fabulous impromptu meals. Thanks also to everyone for taking and sharing beautiful photos! This was another trip of a lifetime.