Fresh baked “Fong Bao” from the oven – 方包出爐
Random musings & meditations straight from the oven. Hopefully some food for thought as well…Dealing with anger and loving thy neighbour
Keeping a perspective while being angry and frustrated is a struggle regardless of age.
This past weekend I was perusing Facebook when I stumbled upon a note written by a young man from my Church. It was a measured and sensible piece about his reaction to the Stanley Cup riot and the people responsible for it. He brought up the aspect of forgiveness which has been ignored by a lot us who have been, to various degrees, condemning the rioters. Numerous stories on the fallout have since surfaced and now the challenge is whether our society will forgive and, more importantly, whether the rioters can, and truly will, learn from this experience. Strangely, Pie Pie Lo and I are now faced with a similar decision.
Our home is situated next to a predominately-rental apartment complex. Due to the transient nature of the tenants, “you never know what you gonna get” as a wise man once quipped while describing a box of chocolate. Unfortunately in our case we are stuck with an undesirable lot for now. A group of young people in their 20’s moved into a 3rd floor unit directly across from our studies – the west side of our unit – about a year ago. No different from a lot of their peers, they do enjoy their drinking and partying very much. During the warmer months their balcony would become gossip central, sometimes late into the night – 3 am in one instant as we struggled to get some rest. That being said, we’ve managed to acquire the ability to deal with unwelcomed noise ever since we’ve moved into our home – A lady living in the unit north of us likes to sing the same karaoke song repeatedly every night. But nothing prepared us for what happened later.
About nine months ago we noticed a couple of empty milk cartons lying outside our driveway. Pie Pie and I didn’t think too much of it but then one late Saturday night I was reading in the studies with my blinds down, window partly open when suddenly I heard a couple of loud BANGS and some giggling from the unit across. Those people had put fire crackers in the milk cartons and threw them over towards our driveway for kicks and a laugh. Since then the tossing of items have persisted on a fairly regular basis. From empty milk cartons, juice cartons & pop cans, from oranges, food scraps & turkey carcass, from empty beer keg, protein shake tubs filled with water to 4 litre milk jugs with milk still inside, the trash have gotten bigger, heavier and “sturdier”. The stuff is usually there in the morning when we head out to work but now we’re starting to see them when we come home from work. Try as I might, I could never catch those people right in the act with my own eyes but based on the noise coming out of their unit every time something landed on our driveway, I’ve a good idea that they are responsible. Sadly our strata council and the RCMP – we filed a case with them – couldn’t do anything tangible to stop them.
Words cannot describe how livid and upset I was when I heard the sound of the latest piece of garbage landing on my driveway yesterday just before dinner. I was seething as I cleaned up the mess while all these scenarios of “payback” flashed through my mind. Some were plausible while others were down right ridiculous. (Fire bomb anyone?) But the worst part was that hopeless feeling knowing we’ll have to endure this nonsense without any form of resolution until such time when these people move out of the unit. It also angers me to think that they will never realize how annoying their actions have been.
I was angry with rioters last Wednesday.
I’ve been angry with these people across my unit for nine months and I find it very difficult to extend any degree of grace and forgiveness towards them.
Perhaps this whole garbage ordeal is a reason why I’ve gotten grumpier in recent days. Think I’ve tapped into the fiery temper – of my late mother – that’s been dormant inside of me.
The challenge now is to remain calm and patient and hope that, some how some way, the garbage will stop landing on our driveway. Otherwise I may yet have to call Wile E Coyote for Acme Company’s phone number.
The True Spirit of Vancouver
The morning after the riot I took a different route to work and drove through the stretch of Georgia Street where most of the damage was done. I was pleasantly surprised by how clean it was given the circumstances. In retrospect I wished I had gotten out of my car for a moment because the true spirit of Vancouver was at work then. Many people from different walks of life, young and old, all gathered to help with the clean up efforts because they genuinely love and care about this beautiful city they called home. It was a simple yet powerful message of unity.
“Saw a young dad holding hands with his young son, both dirty from cleaning. I cried.”
@Kardboard via Twitter
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I spent some time today at “The Great Wall of Vancouver” outside The Bay downtown reading the messages left by Vancouverites. The words were poignant, emotional and I couldn’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed and contemplative afterwards.
P.S. An image that’s stuck in my head: A lady in a wheelchair outside The Bay writing positive messages on the pavement with a piece of chalk.
“As I went to bed with tears in my eyes and my son fearful of a city he loves, never wanting to watch a hockey game downtown again. I found myself bringing him downtown to show him that fear can be conquered and our city will be beautiful again. With a heavy heart I am truly sorry to “Boston” who should be the focus today, all those that wer hurt, the VPD and fire department and the countless businesses that were destroyed. I AM SORRY. Love, A single mom & her son!!!”
A night to remember in Vancouver…for the wrong reasons.
June 15th, 2011.
Unless you were in a cave at the time, I’m sure you know what happened by now. It was a mind numbing night on so many different levels.
From the game itself to the Stanley Cup trophy presentation which, for reasons unknown, I decided to watch in its entirety; the live shot of the first car burning outside Canada Post; a dejected couple in Canuck jerseys, holding hands with their heads down, walking quietly down my street as I drove off to pick up a late dinner; a small group of vocal fans leaving the Brighouse Canada Line station yelling “Eff Boston!”; the steady stream of riot pictures being posted on Twitter and shown through live TV coverage. Suffice to say it will take me some time to process all these disappointing and disturbing images.
I honestly thought it would end differently than 94. Sadly it wasn’t the case and a small group of masked, organized vandals and anarchists seized the moment and incited a young, anger-filled crowd to unleash a shameful act of destruction and looting in the downtown core. It was obvious most of these gutless punks who rioted were too young to remember the Robson street riot 17 years ago. What I don’t understand is where the venom came from. They were out of control and had no regard for the authorities.
Like all decent, law-abiding Vancouverites, I was deeply angered, embarrassed and ashamed by the stupidity of the few. (Btw, please have a look at this passionate plead from a friend of mine. I think he spoke for a lot of us.) Not only were our lives disrupted and threatened, our reputation as a city and the goodwill created during the 2010 Olympics had gone up in smoke, literally and figuratively.
And it sickens me when one of these idiots – who detailed his actions on Facebook but had his comments screen-captured and posted on the internet – opened a Twitter account today talking trash, boasting his exploits and showing no remorse. I sincerely hope the authority will (please excuse the language) nail his ass for what he has done.
I hope Vancouver will learn and, more importantly, remember this riot. We cannot let this happen again.
This is what we live for – Game 5 – Western Conference Final
If I remember correctly, the last and only Canuck playoff game I attended was 10 years ago against the then-powerhouse Colorado Avalanche. It was the first time the local team made the playoffs in the Brian Burke era and I can still remember the electricity inside the building. Nobody cared that the Avs had taken a 2-0 series lead over the Canucks because people were just excited playoff hockey was back. Vancouver lost that game in OT – in fact swept in four by Colorado two nights later – but I witnessed my first “Sedinery” moment, live. The twins combined on a cycle and a no-look pass found a streaking Todd Bertuzzi (Yes, him, but in full gear.) down an open wing. He deked and scored a beauty goal which brought the house down. What made it so special was the crowd rising up to their feet as the play develops, realizing what was about to happen. And when it did, bedlam ensued.
And THAT is why I’m always willing to pay money to attend live sporting events. Like most sports fans, I just crave for those moments where I can tell someone that, “Yes. I was there where so-and-so…….!”
But upon receiving an invite to go to game five of the Western Conference Final between the Sharks and the Canucks, I hesitated for a moment. Not that I didn’t want to go but was surprised that I actually thought about it before accepting. I suppose it had to do with my attitude towards this year’s Stanley Cup playoffs. For whatever reason, I decided to stay even keel, especially after that surreal first round series against Chicago. When the Canucks won, I was content. When they lost, I simply shrugged my shoulders & waited for the next game. Sort of like the old British WWII slogan: “Keep calm and carry on.”
Well, so much for that on the day of the game. As time slowly ticked away at work, my anxiety level would increase accordingly. Next thing you know I bolted out the door when it was time to leave and my heart was racing as I drove into downtown.
I met up with Dr. B (THANK YOU!!!) outside the CBC building where someone brought in a life-sized plastic /foam/whatever-the-material shark for display. It garnered a lot of attention as fans lined up to take funny pictures with it. Right next to the shark was the public viewing area the CBC had set up to screen the broadcast and it was 80% filled just an hour before face-off. Numerous street food carts also made their way across the closed-off street to take advantage of the crowd. Dr. B and I grabbed a quick dinner from one of the carts and eventually made our way into Rogers Arena.
As we settled into our seats up in the nose bleeds, the folks sitting around us made their way up the stairs. After one quick look at them, Dr. B & I figured the night would get quite interesting. Reason? Each person was holding 3-4 cups of beer.
Without getting into too much detail, the following, in no particular order, happened as the night went on: One guy wouldn’t stop bragging about the fact he caught Kesler’s game tying goal on his camera; Someone sitting behind Dr. B spilled some beer on him, twice; a mouse the size of a chicken McNugget made a short & sweet appearance in our section; The dude on my left got drunk and started talking gibberish while I tried to watch the game; That same dude (and his friends) all stood up during both OT periods forcing me to do likewise; AND THAT SAME DUDE literally grabbed me by the waist and picked me up to celebrate the winning goal…….Yeah, it was a memorable night alright……..
As for the game…….
Despite the 54-saves performance, I couldn’t get over the fact how poor Luongo looked on those two San Jose goals.
The officiating was a joke and everybody in the building made sure the referees knew how we felt.
I might have witnessed the most dominating playoff performance by the Sedins, to date.
I don’t think I’ve ever screamed as loud or jumped so much like an idiot as when Kesler tied the game. That was until Bieska scored.
The game winning goal was still a blur to me. All I remember was: 1, A bunch of people behind the net; 2, The puck went missing; 3, Bieska winding up and 4, Seeing the puck in the net & everyone inside the building going nuts.
I’m not sure if there’s anything more I can describe about this game given the context and how it unfolded at the end. Suffice to say I’ll be hard pressed to find another one that’s as dramatic and memorable as this one.
Going Through Hong Kong Withdrawal
It’s been almost a month since coming back from Hong Kong yet a part of me is still going through some sort of withdrawal. Interestingly, many people I know who went and came back as well shared the same sentiment.
If I were to summarize my trip it is one of “surprise”. Without the need to catch up on 18 years of progress and memories I was able to enjoy Hong Kong on my own terms and was struck by an unexpected appreciation for certain aspects of life there (relative to Vancouver): the efficiency of the transit system; the variety of dining and shopping options; the quality of museums (!); the cheaper prices, to name a few.
That being said, they are noticeable from a non-resident’s perspective. It is one thing to visit Hong Kong for pleasure, quite another when you have to live and work in the city. Let’s face it. I don’t think I can survive the hot, humid summers anymore, let alone the pace and demands of the work culture. So I’m very content to stay as a visitor.
There weren’t as many takeaways from this trip compared to the previous one but we were able to re-connect with our roots, something that’s becoming more important as we age. And in Pie Pie Lo’s case, some long lost friends. The re-connection and the reconciliation which followed were very encouraging and heartfelt and I’m very glad that it happened.
I also came to realize, in some ways, Hong Kongis like the old, forgotten cassette/CD/DVD/book/comics/whatever collection in my house. It’s there. Has been for a long time but is packed away in boxes somewhere in the garage/attic, neglected. At times, the thought of digging it out would cross my mind but rarely carry out. Yet when I do, I’m always surprised by what I find and the emotions that go along with it: The joy of seeing old favorites; Giddiness over discovering the new or the never-knew-existed; Appreciation for the irreplaceable; Resignation over the loss of certain things and conditions; and disappointment of putting everything away once again. Hong Kong will always be full of these wonderful nuggets.
And if I have my way, it’d be nice to dig into them more frequently
Fresh baked “Fong Bao” from the oven - 方包出爐 