Choose Strong
For Tim.
This year's home-coming started with a hiccup. Air Canada
canceled a flight (SJC to YVR) on me and caused, aside from
any potential emotional trauma, a two-day delay. As a result,
over 25% of my short vacation was spent on the road. Still,
it was Chinese New Year and it was worth it.
Traveling itself did not have to be lifeless, either. I kept
jotting down thoughts on a notebook (I left the laptop
home.) and read a book about Niels Bohr, the Danish
physicist. I was glad to find podcasts an option in the
airline's entertainment system and thrilled to come across
a favorite. I must have listened half of the trip.
On a trans-continental airplane, feeding seems important. It
amuses more than nourishes, taking the mind away from
projecting into the bleak near future--many boring hours
before destination. I usually eat nothing and drink only
water. I find it easy to do when everyone around me is busy
making choices on what to have on the menu. My decision to
fast is reaffirmed when I see the amount of trash produced
after each meal/snack.
Flying YVR to PEK, I watched a movie, "G.I. Jane," where I
learnt a poem by D H Lawrence and titled "Self Pity":
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
Sorry or not, I wouldn't know as I am not a bird, although I
first felt that the small bird should. The words made an instant
impression, nonetheless. They also reminded me of DaiYu's
piteous lines (my translation) in Dream of the Red Chamber:
Now people mock as I am burying these petals.
Who's the one to lay me down as the day comes?
What a contrast! And how interesting that my life was first
exposed to and shaped by the sentiment of the latter but
then transformed toward the ideal of the former!
Flying back four days later, I napped on-and-off most of the
trip and landed at YVR refreshed. Wandering not much farther
from the Starbucks near the connecting Gate E-88 during the
layover, I spotted a Tim Horton's! Years of memory flooded
back: the freezing winters, stimulating coffee, soothing donuts,
and of course the people of this land who treated us so well.
"A medium double-double, please."
"One dollar and 84 cents, please." and
"Is that all for you?"
"Yes. Thank you!"
That completed the transaction for my first cup of Canadian
coffee in a dozen years. Well, my adopted countries felt
home, too.
