Hiroshima 65th Anniversary

August 6, 2010 Concerns, Event, Poetic No Comments

Hiroshima Remembered
Today let there be this request:
Please bequeath the universe to our children intact, in peace, and in love.
Our moment has come to disarm nuclear weapons.

Black Storm

August 3, 2010 100, Event, Writing No Comments

Black Storm

Butterflies never came today. Birds, plumage ruffled fly to nests urgent, swift, quiet. Small creatures scuttle and hide. Caterpillars cling to stems ceaseless munching. Thick dark sky descends. No scud of clouds. They, long gone, turned day to night moonless. Wind chimes swing hysterical. Un-staunched, gale blows churning steadfast bushes, tossing blossoms. A window tears loose, storm brings out in. Frangipani towering staggers slightly, firmly rooted, bark armoured, it looks about concerned. Splinters of lightning streak between its branched foliage fiercely parted. Rain descends in sheets. Frogs blink wet their rain choruses drowned. The day thwarted waits, perhaps to return.

Hong Kong – Beijing by Train T97/T98

July 26, 2010 Travel, Writing 30 Comments

There and back

Large curtained picture window, upholstered armchair and table covered in white lacy cloth. Blue and white potted philodendron (money plant ) alive on the table, blue and white carpet underfoot. Clean, white linen, soft pillows and quilt on bed. En-suite toilet, shower facilities, toiletries and long mirror on door. Air-conditioning, T.V. and Public Address system with separate controls. Luxury hotel suite? No, Deluxe Soft Sleeper on the Hong Kong/Beijing Train.
Jingjiu Railway compartments come in Soft Sleeper (two berth) which I had all to myself on return trip, Hard Sleeper (four berth), six berth room. Prices go from about US$180 to under US$100.
T97 Hong Kong Beijing train leaves from Hung Hom station (Hong Kong) at 15.15 and reaches Beijing West Railway station about 24 hours later. The trip back T98, leaves from the same station Beijingxi, (Beijing West, not Beijing Station) about 12:00 and arrives in Hung Hom mid-day, the next day. The ticket if purchased in Beijing will be issued for Jiulong (Kowloon). Trains depart on alternate days from both ends.
At least an hour allowance should be made for security check, health check and immigration.
On approaching the Hong Kong China border at Lowu passengers surrender their passports to train staff. These are returned when almost in Beijing.
Along the route the express train picks up no passengers except at Lowu. At limited stops at stations in Changsha, Wuhan and Zhengzhou passengers travelling from Guangzhou are allowed to get off and at these stations laundry and rubbish are unloaded and things needed on the train picked up. When stopping at stations train staff request passengers draw the curtains on windows, for privacy perhaps.

Hard working manager, cigarette dangling between lips

It is a ‘no smoking’ train but happy addicts light up in the passages between coaches and vicarious smokers can often enjoy tobacco smoke coming in through the vents near the doors. The non-smoking rule does not apply to the male train-staff and chefs and others in uniform light up even in the buffet carriage every spare moment they get.

Chef and Supervisor meet for a smoke

Staff speak Mandarin and some Cantonese, no staff speak English. Only Yuan, no foreign money, is accepted in the buffet coach. Buffet coach is open only at meal times. The one page laminated Chinese menu consists of limited selection.

It is easy to navigate but pictures of dishes look similar except for a fish shaped dish and a yellow one (ham and eggs). No vegetarian dishes, time to fast, detoxify. No requests for noodles in hot water will be accepted.
Hot and cold water are available at the end of carriages.
Extra toilets between carriages are both pedestal and squat. Spotlessly clean and smelling strongly of disinfectant as the train leaves Hong Kong but as the hours pass get progressively smelly and are quite evil by the time you reach your destination.
When the buffet carriage is closed train staff carry big baskets of China version of fake lacquer ‘Bento Boxes’ of rice dishes and other interesting food for sale, and they walk through the corridor at times calling out their wares. This lovely sing-song calling-out has a quaint ring to it, reminiscent of calls in other languages in other trains elsewhere.

Reading 'End to Suffereing' by Pankaj Mishra

The day-long meditative trip from Hong Kong, almost yogic in quality, does not quite prepare passengers when spewed out at the Beijing West Station. Immediately after security check and immigration you are on your own. The vast station of seething mass of humanity shouting, walking, running, pushing; or squatting relaxed and smoking or stretched out asleep with luggage for pillows. It is pretty confusing and difficult to contend with if you are not a Beijinger. When trying to seek out transport it is not wise not to try out your English, go for Mandarin, or have the address of your hotel written down in Chinese. All taxis run on meters, but might be useful to remind the driver to have it running.
Curiosity on seeing a dark skinned person on their part and a good dose of nodding, grinning, and ‘xie’ xie’ on my part worked for me.
I would do this trip again and this time will be armed with champagne and carrot sticks for breakfast and packets of crisps, packet noodles, and green tea for the rest of the meals.

more at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beijing-Kowloon_Through_Train

Patriotism

July 5, 2010 Book Review, Writing No Comments

Yukio Mishima: Patriotism

From a British book stall at Expo 70 in Osaka, Japan, I picked up a stack of books by Japanese authors, some written in English and some translated. Since then I have become totally fascinated by Japanese culture, stories and writers.

‘Yukoku’ – Patriotism is a rare short story, beautifully translated by Geoffrey W. Sargent.

This haunting tale of a young married couple dizzyingly in love portrays tradition and culture that value love, honour, duty. To these three qualities is added death. It is the character of the young wife that struck me most. Reiko’s loyalty, love for her husband and bravery grips the readers, keeps them focused in this extraordinary tale of a culture too difficult and complex to understand by anyone steeped in modern or western standards.

The couple is acutely aware of each other. Reiko of her husband’s manliness and strength and love for her. He is the sun around which her world revolves. Lieutenant Shinji Takeyama deeply and passionately loves his beautiful, chaste and devoted wife to whose warmth he returns each night from training as a soldier.

Right from the beginning the story is overwhelming.

Only a few months into their marriage the lieutenant learns of the failed coup in which some of his close friends are involved. It would require him to carry out the assassination of his comrades and he himself would carry the dishonour of being branded as member of the mutiny team. Reiko learns the news on the radio and waiting alone at home knows finality has come. Her noble husband will perform ritual seppuku. From their first day together she knows as soldier’s wife she must be prepared for death of her husband at any time. She calmly readies herself, gets things in order. She will accompany him in death. With quiet deliberation she packs her best kimonos, labels them for her friends, packs up the few trinkets she owns, addresses them and sets them aside, and waits for her husband to return.

When he eventually arrives home he tells her what has happened and what he must do. He will commit seppuku that night. She asks permission to follow him. They prepare themselves. They share ‘sake’ and experience one last passionate, seductive, and sensual love making, they find their awareness of each other is even more acute.

Trusting her implicitly he asks her to witness, and to help and hasten his death. This she does. She sits watching her husband’s pain of dying, and when his sword slashing his stomach does not kill him he, accompanied by feverish death throes, tries to cut his throat. She helps him loosen his collar. After her husband is dead she calmly sets about preparing her own demise.

What follows is a most touching scene of human bravery and dedication. She leaves her husband’s body and descends sensuously to the ground floor in ‘her socks slippery with blood’, her white kimono now boldly patterned by blood, her husband’s blood. She switches off the gas, pours water on the brazier of half-burnt coals, and unbolts the door leaving it slightly ajar. She applies make up and goes to sit beside her husband with the dagger her mother had given her at marriage. She kills herself.

A breathtakingly beautiful read.

The author, Yukio Mishima committed seppuku on November 25, 1970 at the age of 45.