My New Website 我的新網頁

Please visit my new website at   

http://web.me.com/wang_hong/Site/Home.html.  

I'll gradually migrate to the new site and stop writing on this one.  It's best viewed through Safari to avoid slow loading.

我有了一個新的網頁，去看看吧。將來我就那裡發表文章和照片了。最好用Safari來看，以達到最快的速度。

生日 Birthday

生日这天早晨醒来，窗外鸟鸣阵阵，树荫青青，阳光要再晚一点才能照进来。

“生日快乐”，他低声跟我说，大概是看到我醒了。
“嗯，又老了一岁”， 我微笑了一下，心里很安静。
“不对，是又老了一天”。虽然我不怕老，但这样的安慰还是象微风轻拂，令人愉快。

是啊，日子要一天一天地细细地过，而不是一年一年粗粗地过，那样也许能从每一天里多留下一些记忆，也不至有天忽然发出“不知明镜里,何处得秋霜”的惊叹。如果真有来世，我们的生命真地会以另一种方式继续存在，那么此生的财富中有可能跟我们一起穿越时空的，恐怕就只有这些记忆了。

The chirping of birds greeted me in the morning when I woke up on my birthday. Outside the window was the water-color green of the spring jungle. Rays of sunshine would soon brighten the room.

"Happy Birthday", he might have noticed that I was awake now.
"Yes, one year older." I smiled, feeling peaceful.

"No, one day older." Although I haven’t yet experienced any fear for getting old, such soothing words still breezed through very pleasantly and gently.

True, it is nicer to live the time we have exquisitely not hastily, and count them by days not years. This may help us catch more beautiful moments from each day that would have otherwise slipped away unnoticed, and form richer and more colorful layers in the depth of our memories. If there were really another life after this one, or, life continued beyond death in a different form of existence, the only wealth from this world that could accompany us, on our way through spaces and times, might be only these memories.

闲散的一天 A Lazy Day

拖了一年的项目昨天终于做完了，高兴，给自己放假，在岛上懒一天。

昨天潮潮的，今天春天忽然来了，鸟活泼地叫，蝴蝶好象一夜间从花丛草丛里全涌出来。从书房的窗户向外望，有一只懒猫，春眠不觉晓似的。好久没去大坪村和我们的晨径，就往那个方向走，惊诧的看到一处花园鲜花盛开，粉蝶飞舞。花园后面是菜园，有人拉开竹门请我进去，一问才知他叫Michael，巴基斯坦人，在香港二十多年了。Michael给我从地里掐了好多新鲜的生菜和菠菜尖儿，还有小蕃茄，中午我有了一顿美味的蔬菜色拉。从Michael的菜园出来走了几步，前面蓦然矗立着一大棵紫荆树，粉红色的花朵象瀑布一样飞泻而下，好看极了。

回到自己的小院，院门处闻到香气，是绿叶间小簇小簇的白花。回到家把窗全打开，春天的海风吹进来，窗纱轻摆，我的心里是静静的喜悦。从忙碌的日子里走出来，不紧不慢的享受自己的岛自己的家，品味周围一切平日里和我匆匆擦肩而过的美丽，便再也不想回到那忙碌中去了。

The deal was finally closed last night after dragging on and on for a year. This morning I decided to have a lazy day on the island.

Spring is suddenly here after a very humid night. Birds are chirping cheerfully and hundreds of butterflies burst out from the bushes without any warning. Outside our study window was a sleepy cat, still not willing to open his eyes in the warm sunlight.

It’s been a while since I last went up to Tai Ping Village and the morning trail, so I set out toward that direction. At the end of Taiping was a stunningly beautiful garden, with all kinds of colorful flowers, over which white butterflies were fluttering. There were vegetables too. Somebody opened the bamboo fence and invited me in. This was Michael, originally from Pakistan, but has been in Hong Kong for over 20 years. Michael pinched lots of leaves from the lettuce and spinach rows and gave them to me with some small tomatoes. A fresh salad for lunch. A short walk away from Michael’s garden, I was stopped by a big Bauhinia tree, thousands of pink flowers flowing down like a waterfall.

When I was back at the gate to our courtyard, I was touched by some pleasant aroma. It was from the little white flowers currently in full blossom among the green leaves. I got into the house, opened all the windows and let in the spring breeze from the ocean. The light curtains started to flutter, and a quiet happiness filled my heart.

It was so nice to have such a lazy time to enjoy home, to enjoy the island and to be touched by the beauty which I hastily pass by day in and day out. I never wish to return to those hectic days again.

《莲花》"Lotus"

安妮宝贝的《莲花》，是春节回北京时好友送的。以前听说过这个作者的名字，心想一个给自己起了这么个笔名的人能写出什么好作品，但好友是有品位的人，拜她推荐就翻开了《莲花》，不料昨夜一口气读完，窗外的鸟已经开始叫了。

安妮的文字清洁冷静，带着很强的力量，讲述的是离普通生活很远的几个人的故事，让我们从世界的边缘看人生的真实与虚幻，却又可以时时被提醒着自己人生的梦想、足迹、痛苦和温暖。也许我们每一个人在某个时刻都希望成为一个远离世界远离人群远离喧嚣的安静自由的流浪者，即便我们活在不完美的布满种种约束的却又不忍或不敢抛弃的现实中。

书中的两个主人公在13岁的时候一起在雨后的森林深处看到上万只黄色的蝴蝶，在迁徙的途中，沐光而舞，寂寥无人却华丽神秘。两个人从这一天后走了不同的道路：女孩儿向着这蝴蝶的方向走了进去，去寻找真实生命的证明，我特别感动于她说的一句话：“我的一生从未做到过在俗世的幸福面前可以理所当然”；男孩儿退了回来，象每个人一样努力，做了成功的男人，可内心却与这个世界充满疏远和隔膜，无限寂寥，生活该往哪里去呢？

像莲花一样吧，摆脱淤泥与黑暗，向着光明，在这光明中去看真实的自己，去找这个自己想走的路。其他的也许都不重要。

"Lotus", a novel written by Annie Baby, was among a big pile of books given to me by a good friend when I was in Beijing during the Chinese New Year. I had heard of this writer but didn’t give her any serious look, hindered by her garish pen name. The book took me by surprise. I opened it late last night and didn’t close it until the last line was done. Birds started then the first chirps before the dawn broke.

Annie’s language is clean, calm and powerful, telling stories of people who seem to dwell at the remotest corner of the world but forcefully remind me of the desires, dreams, pains and tenderness in my own life and of my own illusions and reality. Perhaps every one of us has, at some moment, wished to be a drifter, free and peaceful, away from this world’s chaos, noise and constraints, even though in the end, most of us are reluctant or too afraid to entirely desert the imperfect lives that we are used to.

At the age of 13, the two protagonists of "Lotus" descended into the depth of a forest and were encountered by an unbelievable scene – thousand of yellow butterflies dancing in columns of sunlight, lonely but magnificent. From this day, the two departed onto different routes. The girl followed straight the direction of the butterflies to look for a true proof of life; while the boy turned back to make a success in the world but felt always estranged from it. Where should one go to find ones destiny?

Be like a lotus, out from sludge and darkness, toward the light above. In this light I may see my true self and in this light I may find a way that truly belongs to me. The rest, possibly, are not at all that important.

你已为我拔涉千里 For Me, You Have Trekked Through Thousands of Miles

偶然读到席慕容说到了八十岁她也还会写情诗，我呢，恐怕到了八十岁也还会阅读并感动于好的情诗。仿佛与爱情有个一生的约定，也好像做一个长长的梦，充满灿烂、温婉、忧郁、缠绵、喜悦或痛苦的故事，走到今世尽头，都不愿醒。爱如同美，坚强而接近永恒，虽然作为爱的载体，人是那么软弱，不永久。

人情易变，于是自古就有“人生若只如初见”的感叹和“执字之手与子偕老”的盼望。其实与一个人的初见，那瞬间的感觉，如燃烧的烟花最明亮的时刻，如何能不断的延续和重复呢？如果在记忆中这一刻永远是美好的，不被后来发生的事玷污，已是人生之幸了。人的相伴总会经历风雨程程啊，彼此了解得更深了，虽然与初见的感觉很不同，但还是愿意相守，不更是人生之幸么？

在我的印象里父母的关系与他们那个年龄许多夫妻一样稀松，可是有一天跟他们一起吃饭的时候，不知为了什么事妈妈笑了，这时爸爸说了一句：“笑得和年轻时一样”。我听了差点掉下泪来，也许真的有些什么是从初见到永远都不会变的，即便那明亮震撼的感觉已经那么遥远。在我白发苍苍的时候，身边会不会有一个人说这样的话呢？

喜欢席慕容有关初见的诗句：“我真喜欢那样的梦，明明知道你已为我拔涉千里，却又觉得芳草鲜美，落英缤纷，好象你我才初初相遇。”初相遇的感觉谁都想念，缤纷如梦，但也要知道并感激“你已为我拔涉千里”。

感谢你，为我跋涉千里。

有事做，有盼望 Something to do, and Something to Look Forward to

在皇后大道中有一个经营报摊的女孩儿，我认识她是因为曾请她帮我留一些大陆出版的报纸。每天清晨我经过她的报摊，问候她的时候，她总是快乐而充满朝气。今天早晨我们互致问候的时候，她祝我这一天有事做，有盼望。

多么简单的一个祝愿，却好像揭示了快乐的秘密。如果我生活中的每一天都从喜欢做的事里有一点点成果，对未来的日子怀着一些希望，那我一定是快乐而无悔的了。

There is a girl who runs several news stands on Queen’s Road Central. I got to know her when I asked her to keep some mainland published newspapers for me. Every morning I pass her stand and greet her and every morning she looks happy and energetic. This morning when we exchanged greetings again, she wished me “to have something to do and have something to look forward to.”

Have something to do and have some to look forward to. What a simple wish that reveals the secret of happiness. If I use everyday in my life to accomplish and to hope, I’ll be happy and have no regret.

大城北京 Beijing, A Grand City

这次春节回北京，没有看到故乡变化的唏嘘感叹，也没有刻意寻找童年和少年的影子，平静释然得仿佛只是一个游客。离开的时候，心里却怀着兴奋和喜悦，因为这10天的天朝古都之旅让我看到一座大城正在复兴。大城之大，在于它展现的气魄和胸襟，它蕴含的历史和文化，它的志气追求，它的兼收并蓄，它的人民的宽容、幽默和大度。我看到了所有这些正带着强劲的生命力萌发，即使还有许许多多的不顺眼不如意，但这生命力让我心潮澎湃，让我第一次对一座城市怀上了希冀，盼着自己的有生之年能够见证北京真的经历一场文明复兴，成为世界东方一座充满魅力的大城。

在北京拍的一些照片，在“透过我的镜头”栏的相册“北京2009年初”中。

This Chinese New Year when I was back in Beijing, I did not get sentimental about changes in my hometown or try to revive memories from the past. I was calm and at ease like a wayfarer, who accidentally travelled to the city. Yet at the time of departure, I couldn’t help but feeling happy and excited about, from what I’d observed, the rejuvenation of a grand city. Its history and culture, its aspiration and boldness, its magnanimou and humorous people, its exhibition of great diversity – all combined to give the city an extrordinary vitality and irresistable glow of beauty. It has a long way to come, and for sure, a long way to go. There are still many disturbing corners, but the sparkle of such vitality and beauty has indeed touched me. Beijing will experience a profound renainance of civilization and become the city of the orient, grand and full of charm. This was an expectation I started to cherish when the train took me slowly out of the platform, and then out of the city.

Some pictures during the trip to Beijing in early 2009 can be found in “Through My Lens”.

很近的满月 Closer to the Moon

据说两天前我们能看到比平时大1/6的满月,是月亮离地球最近的一天， 每12年一次。今天清晨的月亮依然很圆很大，静静地悬在榕树湾上空，水也漫上来，天微微亮了，很美的一个图画。

It’s said that two days ago the moon was the closest to the earth in years, therefore it looked bigger. Early this morning, there was still a full moon, over Yung Shue Wan. The water was high, and daylight started to set in. A very peaceful picture.

静听风吟 Whispers of the Wind

好友寄来一张北京三里屯使馆区的照片，让我看看曾经熟悉和钟爱的秋色。是啊，当我想念北京的秋天时，这想念每每化作眼前漫漫的银杏树叶和耳边的低低风吟，还有当年流行的一首歌的歌词“我是一只小小鸟，想要飞，却怎么也飞不高”。连自己那时的样子，也跃然眼前，秋天起风的日子里，常常是一条红格呢裙子，黑色高领羊毛衫，头上包着一块红丝巾, 穿过种满银杏树的巷子，去打大学毕业后的第一份工， 这么多年过去了，我好像还是一只想飞的鸟，那召唤来自飞翔的感觉，不为到哪儿，只为飞。无目的带来自由，所过之处留下想念，这想念有时如同微风掠过，而我就在世界的某个角落，也许是一个月明星稀的秋夜，静听风吟。

To show me Beijing’s autumn colors, a former colleague sent over a photo he took of ginkgo trees in Sanlitun diplomatic compounds with which I used to be very familiar. Yes, when I miss the autumn in Beijing, it is the boundless expansion of these golden fan-shape ginkgo leaves I see and the soft whispers of the wind I hear, and I recall lyrics of a popular song in those years: “I am a small bird, eager to fly but can never reach high…”. Often appearing vividly was also an image of myself, in a black turtle-neck pullover and a red woolen skirt, head wrapped in a red silk scarf, walking along the ginkgo tree lined streets on a windy autumn day, toward my first job after university…Years have passed, and I still feel like a bird, eager to fly. The allure is the flying itself, not to any destination but to fly. Absence of a goal creates freedom, while every episode along the way lingers in the memories. On some days these memories brush through like a breeze, perhaps on an autumn night, under bright full moon and few stars, and all I have to do is to quietly listen to its whispers.

还爱吃巧克力么? Still Love Chocolates?

不久前跟中学时的同桌好友联络上了，特别高兴。 在msn上没聊两句，她打出一句：“你还那么爱吃巧克力么？”这话只有她问得出来，我的回答却令自己失望：“不怎么吃了。”完美的答案应该是:“象以前一样爱。”曾经深爱的东西理应永远深爱，这才因执着而圆满。

这些天来她的这个问题总在耳畔，二十年前的记忆重现带来无比温暖和浓重的怀旧情绪。看到自己生活中有些曾经重要的东西永远丢在了来时的路上，淡淡的忧伤漫起，好象细雨蒙蒙的天气中飘落的粉红色花瓣。这样的忧伤可以让每个人成为诗人。

那时我十八岁，热爱巧克力，热爱舞蹈，热爱舒婷、北岛、顾城，热爱做一切与复习高考无关的事时那种自由痛快的感觉。朋友说我是一个理想主义者，追求完美的人，想想看这是从十八岁时到现在都未丢弃的。人生中的寻觅、丢弃和获得也许就是这样，在不圆满的选择中，执着其实从未改变。

我的朋友，谢谢你还记得岁月中某一时刻的我，就让她安静的留在那一时刻吧。 不过，今天下班的时候，我给自己买了一板巧克力。

Some days ago, I got reconnected with a close friend from high school days. After a few sentences exchanged on msn, she wrote: “You still love chocolates?” She’s the only one who would have asked such a question. My answer disappointed myself: “Not so much anymore.” It should have been: “As much as before”. A sense of imperfection seized me when I realized the loss of a once strong passion, which should have remained, always.

Her question has lingered in my mind. Memories from twenty years before engulfed me with warmth and nostalgia that felt deep and boundless. I was brought back to see things once so important to me but were eventually lost on the way. Pain fell tenderly, like the pink petals of peach blossom falling in a fine, misty drizzle. The tenderness in such pain creates a poet out of everybody.

I was 18 years old then and loved chocolates. I also loved dancing, Misty Poems and the freedom and joy coming from everything unrelated to reviewing for the university entrance examinations. Friends labeled me as an idealist, in constant pursuit of perfection in life. When I ponder over my life from 18 years old to now, I see that such a pursuit has remained. Perhaps this is how it is in the searching, losing, deserting and gaining in our lives. In seemingly imperfect, unsatisfactory choices we make, certain perseverance has never changed.

My friend, thank you for remembering the girl that I was at certain moment in the passing of months and years. Let her peacefully stay at that moment. Only today after work, I got myself a big piece of chocolate.

甲骨 Oracle Bones

Peter Hessler’s Oracle Bones is so far the best English-language book on contemporary China I’ve read. It helped me, a Chinese, to understand better my people and my country in massive social transformations. Stories of ordinary people are told in a very calm and smooth tone. No dramatic climax, but touching and powerful because of the truthfulness in the very detailed observation and narration of individual lives across generations. Ancient and recent history of China is naturally weaved into the present, all relevant in expressing certain characters of Chinese culture and people that have traveled through time and space, withstanding great changes in their living environment. I would put the book on top of the reading list of everybody who is interested in gaining insight into the Chinese society, but tired of the “Doing Business in China” type that are swamping every book shop in Hong Kong.

In the end of the book, Mr. Hessler quoted the Chinese translation of a few lines from Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, and translated them back into English. Interesting to compare these to Whitman’s original. All irresistible lines.

我，痛苦和欢乐的歌手，今世和来世的统一者，
所有的暗示都接受了下来，加以利用，但又飞速的跃过了这些，
歌唱一件往事。

I, the singer of painful and joyous songs, the uniter
Of this life and the next,
Receiving all silent signs, using them all,
But then leaping across them at full speed,
Sing of the past.

(Whitman’s original:

I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them, but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing. )

第一支椿 First Pile!

Yesterday evening a mail came in from an entrepreneur in Vietnam, for whose construction project we have been helping to raise money. The mail says: “Today 12 Nov at 11 am ICT according to the best time and date we drove the first pile. The pile number was #58. The depth was 35 meters.” The simple line struck me with a strong emotion. On an auspicious day, this must be a special moment in life for him, a moment to see his long cherished dream becoming a reality after years of patience, faith and hard work, and perhaps lots of frustration. Looking at the picture in which a small bunch of bright flowers, incenses, fruits, liquor and chickens are set on a wooden table in front of the huge machine, I became emotional as well, overwhelmed by the power of something real. That’s totally different from all the budgets, plans, financial projections in excel sheets. To the Power of something simple but real, cheers!

榕树湾的傍晚 Dusk Falls on Yung Shue Wan

一转眼，儿子已是英俊少年

周末带儿子乘天星小轮去九龙那边，给他在船上照了几张相。回来输入电脑一看，竟有点吃惊。什么时候这个在我怀里撒娇耍赖的小宝贝长成一个英俊少年了?! 六岁的生日刚过了一个多月啊。岁月走得太快， 想想有多久他没有赖着让我抱了。每一刻跟儿子在一起的时光都是无法重复的时光，那一刻的他，那一刻的我，那一刻的光线，那一刻的气息，都是我生命里一定要特别珍惜的福气。这一点, 就是他气得我掉眼泪的时候，也是不能忘的。

今夏最后的姜花 Last Ginger Flower of This Summer

如果若干年后在世界的某个角落，我回忆起现在的家，回忆起南丫岛, 那么从这回忆中飘来的气味一定是姜花了。那是一种淡淡的甜香，在夏日的田野中，能带给人一丝清凉。起得早的日子，若是来得及去榕树湾大街走一趟，常常可以花10元钱从一个女人那儿买一把她清早割下来满是花蕾的姜花，待傍晚踏着暮色归来，推开家门，等待你的正是这满屋淡淡的甜香。

秋天来了，姜花的季节也要过了。再放一把在窗前吧。我喜欢生活中这些交替的周而复始的变化，让你在任何一个季节总有些什么可以盼望的，即使在香港，也是如此。

Some years later and somewhere in the world, if I happen to reminiscing about my home today and about the Lamma Island, then wafted with the memory must be the scent of ginger flowers. Its delicate and sweet scent always feels refreshing when you walk in the summer fields. And On days when you are able to rise a bit early and have time to take a stroll along the Yung Shue Wan Main Street, you often have a chance to buy a bunch full of buds for HK$10 from a woman who just cut them from the field, and when you return in the deepending dusk, open your door, waiting for you is a full house of such delicate sweetness.

Autumn is on the way, and the seaon of ginger flowers will soon pass. Let me place another bunch in front of our window. I adore the cycles in life, the feeling of things leaving and returning, disappearing and emerging again and again, like the change of seasons. It gives you something to look forward to in any season, on any day, even in Hong Kong.

清晨的收获 Morning Harvest

南丫岛榕树湾码头, 晨早出海的人回来了, 收获不小啊! Coming back from the sea at Yung Shue Wan Pier, Lamma Island. Good harvest!

梦见蝴蝶 I Dreamed of A Butterfly

清晨，我在南丫岛的一片葱绿间行走。明明在岛上，却是一个从未到过的地方，并没有明显的路径，我却很明确方向似地在草丛中前行。最后到了一处灰色的废墟，原本象是一个方正的西式石亭。忽然一只巨大的黑色蝴蝶从身后飞来，先是恍惚的影子，然后就清晰的看见它翅膀上鲜艳的橙色斑点。这蝴蝶落在我的右臂上，安安静静地不走了，我看到它的眼睛望着我。我开始移动脚步离开这个废墟，它仍停在我的右臂上。这时不知从哪里冒一个又黑又瘦的小老头儿，问我：“这是哪一种花精啊？”我开始感到恐惧，用力把蝴蝶甩到地上，它落在草上，却也不飞走…

这时醒了，外面正下着大雨，醒的那一瞬间想着也许这只蝴蝶受了伤, 飞不动了，我为什么没有带它回家，喂它直到好了可以再飞？蝴蝶是吃什么的？…

梦究竟是什么呢? 有些梦会走出黑夜的暗影, 比某些发生过的事还真实，让你在清晰的光线中, 带着一丝困惑，不停回味。

In the first light of the morning, I walked in the green spring landscape on Lamma. This was an area on the island unfamiliar to me. Even without an obvious trail to follow, I seemed to know very well my destination and strode my way through the verdant bushes. In the end, I reached some grey ruins of what looked like a western-style stone pavilion originally. All of a sudden, a giant black butterfly came from behind. First just a faint shadow, then bright orange spots on its wings were sharply in front of my eyes. It landed quietly on my right arm and stayed, no fluttering. I caught sight of its eyes, which were currently gazing at me. I started to move out of the ruins, and the butterfly still clutched on my right arm and wouldn’t leave. At this moment emerged from nowhere a little dark-skinned old man. He approached and asked me: “This is the spirit of what flower?” A chill struck me and I swung my arm very hard, hoping to get rid of the butterfly. It fell onto the grass, still quietly, and didn’t fly away…

By now I was awake. The rain was pouring outside. For an instant, I worried that the butterfly got injured and could not fly any more. Why didn’t I bring it home, take care of it until it flies again? What does a butterfly feed on? …

What on earth is a dream? Some dreams break out of the darkness of night, appear more real than anything that has truly taken place, and push you into a bewilderment that lingers into the broad daylight and refuses to clear up.

Calorie count on the Menu

Today I read that California became the first American state to require restaurants to display the calorie count of each item on the menu, starting in 2011. This is absurd. Why cannot people simply live by common sense, not by numbers? It is exactly in California where I saw the most calorie conscious people examining labels on everything they put into their shopping carts, yet everyone came to the cashier with carts of foods that can easily reduce the world’s starvation by half. Perhaps it is also the US invention to use “unbiased” terms to refer to fat people as “gravity challenged” or “large and in charge”. What humiliation! I wonder what happened in this world to make us unable to live by the basic rules and principles with which human race has survived for thousands of years.

Below I quote somebody’s obituary to Common Sense.

'Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

Knowing when to come in out of the rain; why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn't always fair; and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

Common Sense declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an Aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, his wife, Discretion, his daughter, Responsibility and his son, Reason. He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers:

I Know My Rights
I Want It Now
Someone Else Is To Blame
I'm A Victim

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing ."

灵山 Soul Mountain

在回港的航班上，读完了《灵山》的最后一行文字，转而望向窗外，阳光竟有些刺眼。在这样晴好的日子，从天上望去，香港竟惊人的美丽。在这里生活了五年多，未曾从内心接受过这个城市为家，也从未发现它可以如此之美。如一个永在途中的旅人，我仿佛一直在向着下一个栖息地前行，或是准备前行。

我想去哪里？我在寻觅什么? 在诺贝尔文学奖得主高行健的小说《灵山》中，主人公走在中国西南寻找一个传说中叫灵山的地方。书快结束的时候，他越过了一条河，觉得离目的地很近了，问路上的一位长者，长者却说：“灵山在河对岸，你越走越远了。”　主人公困惑地问：“我刚从对岸过来啊，如果我从对岸定方向呢?”“还是在河对岸。”长者答。最后，主人公并未到达灵山，而那对他或对我（作为一个读者）都不再重要了。

《灵山》并不是一个故事，而是“我”、“你”、“他”，有时也有“她”的一个旅程，有中国古代、现代的历史，民间传说，叙述者童年的回忆，和旅途中邂逅的种种人物。作者试图在一个极其广阔的文化背景中描述人存在中的一个两难困境：人从独处中获得绝对独立的冲动与从人群中找寻温暖的渴望之间的矛盾。而丰富生命的友情可以威胁个体的完整，无一例外的会在力量的挣扎角逐里告终。

这本书是当代文学的一部罕见作品。我相信它帮助我向生命的真谛又迈进了一步。

When I finished reading the last line of Soul Mountain on a flight back to Hong Kong, I turned my eyes to outside the window. The light almost hurt. On a fine day, Hong Kong looked astonishingly beautiful seen from above. After more than 5 years living here, I’ve never been able to take the city as a home of my heart, and I’ve never realized that it can be so beautiful. Like a wayfarer, I seem to be consistently on the move toward the next destination, or always prepared to.

Where do I want to go? What do I search for? In Soul Mountain, a novel written by Gao Xingjian, a winner of the Nobel prize for literature, the narrator travels through southern and south-western China to search for a legendary place called “Ling Shan (Soul Mountain)”. In the last part of the book, he crossed a river, felt very close to Ling Shan and asked an old man for its location. The old man said “it was on the other side of the river. You are moving farther and farther away.” The narrator got confused and asked: “I’ve already come to this side of the river. What if I use that side to get my bearings?” The old man replied “it’s still on the other side of the river”. In the end, the protagonist did not reach Soul Mountain, but for him and for me as a reader, it appears no longer important.

Soul Mountain is not one story, but a journey of “I”, “You” and “He” and sometimes a “She”, and a collection of ancient and modern Chinese histories, childhood reminiscences, folk tales, and all kinds of people and wanderers encountered on the way. Among many other things, the author tried to deal with “an existential dilemma: man's urge to find the absolute independence granted by solitude conflicts with a longing for the warmth and fellowship which can be given by "the other," be it he or she. At the same time, however, this enriching companionship threatens the individual's integrity and, without fail, ends in some kind of struggle for power.”

This book is a rare work in modern literature. I feel that its transforming power has brought me a step closer to the truth of life. Not an easy one to read, but I recommend it. If possible, read it in Chinese.

In Ho Chi Minh City Again

This week I am in Ho Chi Minh City again.

Never before in a hyper inflationary environment, I was struck by it right after landing. The taxi driver asked for 250,000 Dong to take me to the hotel. Four months ago, I paid 100,000 for the same. Hard feelings developed. The smile on the driver’s face looked tricky and wicked. I felt I was being ripped off by the inflation but more by people who decided to take advantage of it.

They put me in the same room that I stayed in last time, overlooking the Saigon River. It was a soothing view in the darkness. Local English newspaper reported domestic retailers facing the onslaught of international competitors as Vietnam fulfils its promised time-table to open up when entering WTO. A few years ago, this was exactly the language in the Chinese media. China was “feeling the stones to step upon to cross the river”. Its experience may have built a bridge for others who also want to make the cross.

When the sun rose and I merged into the hustle and bustle on the street again, Ho Chi Minh City again became young, friendly, and interesting. I was most amazed by the order people find under a very chaotic surface, especially when Nhung, my Vietnamese colleague, took me on the backseat of her motorbike through traffic from all directions. I thought I would be scared, but I was not, feeling safe and stable instead. It is obviously also a strength of a Chinese to find order in chaos.

At dinner table, without noticing it, I started some efforts to pick up Vietnamese words. The first word was “NGH N”, meaning “thousand”, because it was the smallest local note in my wallet.