Happy Christmas, dear reader. What a beautiful moon I have before me tonight.
Today was a day of firsts for me. I’ve been a real night owl lately, so the morning got off to a late (for church) start, but the kindness of my adopted family for the day (by way of EC, a colleague/fellowship group member) smoothed that (bad, bad) wrinkle over. We then adjourned to her mum’s home to peel potatoes for a très délicieux salad, where I met a commercial pilot-in-training and played a pretty cool game called nerts.
Christmas lunch was at an American family’s home. They’re longtime friends of EC’s family, and have been in Hong Kong for eons. Eschewing the expat way, they sent their kids (now all grown up and variously marvellous) to local schools, so they speak impeccable Cantonese. There was food galore, and lovely, lovely spiced wine (I swear to you my allegiance, spiced wine), and then there were games again. I think we spent almost six hours there.
It was my first full-on Christmas Day as experienced by full-on Western families. It was nice, even with some lulls, and a definite eye-opener. My mum told me to absorb as much as I could (i.e. don’t mouth off) during this rare opportunity, and her words were ringing in my ears. Even so, I think I did end up becoming the turkey in the title, at least a little, thanks to my strange and awkward ways. Just not the perfect model of politesse, I guess. How long would I survive on my own good graces? Must … remember … teachings.
Also, I realise that I’m too attuned to American (imperialistic?) culture. Know and care about so very much of it. Need to get me more of my own (what, as recorded in mrbrown.com or the National Museum of Singapore, or entombed in the National Palace Museum or Forbidden City?).
Be that as it may, I wouldn’t agree with the line of thought that a country, no matter how small or distant, can be unimportant — we’re all connected, see, the dots join and align in a pattern of waste, consumption, creativity, destruction, turmoil, production, exchange. I am so very confusedly confusing. A mutterer of an utter nutter.
Hmm, new year coming. Time to take stock of the costs and rewards of independence — and how to ensure it can remain without descending into madness and destitution. Then again, not in my will, but His.