Philosophy and Factoids

Errata:

 So, yes, in the first blog: it is a “cormorant”, not a cormoran. I had just read the last Robert Galbraith Cormoran Strike murder mystery. And, then, on the last one: hum…“a walk-in” wardrobe, not a walking one. Runaway clothes.

There will be others that I haven’t spotted.

Today Sunday, grey skies and warm rain: At PMQ, the old refurbished Police Married Quarters, now full of trendy shops and restaurants, I have found a café where I can recline on cushions and type away on my computer. 

Life is good. In a nutshell: I have recovered from jet lag and weird health problems and flew to Taiwan to visit my cousin Barbara and my pilgrim friends Hsiao Ling and Andy. Since Friday, I am back in Hongkong where I will spend Xmas with Gwendoline and her partner Jason. The first time I spend Xmas at my daughter’s. In her home. One of the wonderful watersheds of life. 

I have now probably seen enough curlicue-roofed temples to last me for a while, beautiful as they are, and ate yesterday in a fusion Peruvian Dim Sum restaurant (don’t ask). It was delicious.

Last week, I had a moment of existential angst, after visiting a perplexing, exasperatingly eye-rolling contemporary art museum in Hongkong. As a whole my opinion towards contemporary art is that, apart from some staggering masterpieces, there is a lot that will not stand the test of time. Some would say that to induce angst is a result. Well, yes, thanks a bunch. I felt adrift in a meaningless world, the same sort of sentiment pervasive in American literature. After a few days spent in this anthill, one is entitled to wonder about the purpose, the meaning of mankind on the earth. 

I remember Khalil Gibran’s words: ”Your children are not your children, they are the longing of life for itself.” Why should there be a purpose? Maybe there is no purpose, just life longing for self-perpetuation. 

On a less philosophical note, I have been awed by incredible views of skyscrapers mushrooming in every nook and cranny available among the green steepness of high hills and have enjoyed the ordered chaos of little streets and alleyways with their offer of dried and fresh food, mysterious mechanical repairs, antiques, foot massage, snacks, incense, etc… I saw an exhibition of the “city of the future” by Hongkong’s children. Creations of cardboard, plastic, paper, glue… More than half of them have a lot of trees, green spaces. Few buildings. Kids’ longings.

Taipei is more spread out, a gentle wave of humanity instead of Hongkong’s tsunamis. I thought I would never see Hsiao Ling again but there she was! Fiercely hanging on and joyful in spite of terminal illness. 

Barbara took me to the public thermal springs. We bathed under the stars in rock pools increasingly hotter as you go up the hillside.  Alternate plunges in a cold bath are recommended and welcome.  

Andy and I drove to the hills east of Taipei to Shifen waterfalls and in Pingxi, sent a sky lantern into the blue with our prayers written on it. The sudden weightlessness of it as it freed itself from gravity filled me with joy. Surely our prayers will be fulfilled.

Hongkong and Taipei factoids: 

* There seems to be more than 500 boarding gates at Hongkong airport.

* I noticed many people in both cities with a paper mask over their nose and mouth. Pollution? That would be a likely explanation in those cities of respectively 8 and 7 million people. No, it is in order to avoid their cold, virus, bug, to spread. Another example of how considerate a culture it is. 

* Hongkong and Taipei dogs. Some I had never seen before, like a fox-like middle- sized Japanese breed. Smaller breeds are favoured in order to fit them into postage-stamp apartments. They are often furry and yapping with a pointy nose. As it is winter (today only 20° C, freezing, hey), some of them are dressed in little coats and/or being walked around in pushchairs, shopping trolleys, their tongue lolling, a perfect picture of spoilt-rottenness.

* The MTR (underground) stations in Hongkong are all of different colours, a custom dating from the time when less people knew how to read and write. My daughter told me it is very useful to spot one’s station during rush hour colour. A flash of colour through a sea of heads. 

* Hongkong is a vertical city. The buildings soar and wherever you go is hilly. Calves get exercised. Puff whizz pant…

* Beware those dragon fruit with a bright pink flesh inside. They are delicious, sweet, fragrant.. but that’s not the point. You will pee pink. Better be warned.

* There is a number 1968 direct bus from Qizhang, Taipei, to the airport. It has  air conditioning and light blue curtains with pompons.

* The traditional calendar is lunar. You burn sky money to the ancestors on the full moon and the new moon. I finally had the explanation about those crescent-shaped red bits of wood that I saw people throw like dice. Depending on which side they land, you have a yes or a no to your question. I didn’t try. Didn’t want to know. 

* In Taiwan, there is a happy mix of Confucianism, Buddhism and Taoism. It is a tolerant culture. My friend in Taipei converted to Christianity and has an altar for ancestors in her lounge. 

I saw a Kung Fu temple (!) in Taipei with bas-relief of a tiger and a dragon at the entrance with bells and gongs inside but no fearsome-looking deities. It is also a kindergarten, as shown by rows of little shoes outside the classrooms and toys in the courtyard.

* Traditional Taiwanese breakfast consist in warm (or cold) soy and/or rice milk, sweetened or not, with long crispy things called youtiao. You can also order steamed dumplings. 

* Taipei has a Buddhist hospital that has been built with donations only. Were I very ill, this is where I would like to be. This is comforting to see a hospital that is grander and more beautiful than, say, a bank, with gardens, water features and one of the best vegetarian restaurant in Taipei.