MOVING ON

China: Empire of Living Symbols by Cecilia Lindqvist My rating: 5 of 5 stars Lindqvist's book, as translated by Joan Tate, is a superb learning book on Chinese characters. After having read it, I was reminded by a remark of a friend, who is Filipino Chinese, who snobbishly told me, "being able to write those characters would not actually mean much -- and that it's more important to be able to speak the language (he spoke Fookien, and I learned in subsequent talks that he really had to struggle learning to draw Chinese characters, as he was also studying Mandarin)." He was in a way, after some thinking, discouraging me, as doing so may gradually allow me to gain more access to a powerful language like that of Chinese, that's used by easily over a billion people. I was actually dumbfounded by his remark, as I was then studying Chinese character writing. I thought he would be excited hearing me talk about Chinese characters. I soon learned that there's an inhe

My roommate, Karen, knocked on the door of my tiny bedroom one late lunch time, and in her broken English, gave me a small bowl of ginataan to eat right away while it's still hot. So that was what she was busily preparing while we were talking earlier about our lives here in NYC as immigrants. I went out of my room, and shared time with her as we both eat ginataan in the tiny space in our apartment where dining, cooking are done in a tenement-fashioned housing here in Chinatown. It's her own version, which reminded me of what we would have back in the Philippines. She's Chinese-Malaysian, and apparently have strong memories of this kind of snack (merienda) fare as well in Malaysia of which she prepared this time. Her ginataan's got the usual coconut milk, with some tapioca, sweet potato (camote) but without sago (that main ingredient that makes up pearl drinks some people rave about during hot summer days!) as she explained that if she put sago, the whole thick desse

My friend's mother asked: "Why are there so many blacks here?" as we were taking the subway ride to one of our destinations during their most recent, first time tour here in New York city with someone they knew back from the Philippines. Well, I'm far from being baffled actually why there are so many dark skinned people here in NYC. I myself is colored skinned, being lovely browned skinned and getting always noticed, and positively remarked for it. Perhaps, it's just the way some people look down at some people who look differently than they are. My friend, with his Mom, being Filipino Chinese themselves just couldn't helped themselves getting overwhelmed with the diversity, the richness of the experience of seeing, actually seeing ordinarily looking, yet magnificently attired people (by virtue of their attitude) of different skin colors here in NYC, most especially in the subway. They actually refused to take the subway initially, as they have heard bad thing

I'm glad I took the trip back to New York city on an early Monday morning trip. I was the first passenger to show up that morning, somewhere in L Street between 15th & 16th Streets in Washington, D.C.(am not sure though if this is the correct address), in a bus, aptly called "Dragon." These enterprising short distance transport services have made sure we consumers get the services we need at the least prices for us to pay. What struck me immediately was the Driver, a Chinese guy, who could very well be a relative of mine back in the Philippines. Yes, Filipinos typically share the same, strange, oriental looks some foreigners rave about Asian looks these days. Now, this Driver, spoke Chinese, in Mandarin, actually to me. I knew it, as I've studied Mandarin myself for nearly 3 years on a tutorial basis with an old, gentle fellow who spoke Tagalog, English, Mandarin, Fookien fluently (Mainland Chinese themselves are amazed at his abilities to speak better Mandar