A Child In My Lap

You know, I really was so glad that I had the opportunity to travel and had the good fortune (thanks to my parents) to do what I did before settling down to being a wife and mother.

I feel sorry for those very young girls who got married at sixteen or seventeen, or may be even younger, and had to be saddled with a family, with a bunch of kids; without having had a life of their own before - no wonder there were all those 'Seven Year Itches' and lots of divorces.

True, it was not easy for me to get 'tied down' after being footloose and fancy- free for a great number of years. At least I did have my experiences of those wonderful days with little responsibilities. And, in a way, I was ready to 'settle down.'

Now-a-days, girls are much luckier than we were. You can opt to have both a career and a home life - many of your husbands would pitch-in and do house-work together with you. 
In my time, the man were suppose to 'bring in the bacon' and take care the outside of the house.
(Not in HK though - if you were rich enough to have a garden in Hk, you would be rich enough to have a gardener.)
And, the little woman was to slave inside the house 
(Not in HK either - the middle class 'lady of the house' did not have to do much house work.)

What I could not understand was, my husband had been a bachelor for a number of years, he had cooked, cleaned, and did all the housework by himself (May be he did Not do too much housework?), besides working, before he was married. He was neat and tidy though.

I found out later, when we had a dishwasher, he never would put the dishes in the dishwasher - he said, that was My job. He had a Thing with Dishwashers!

Let me give you a run down of my life in the next few years - I will fill you in with more details later.

In the first ten years of my marriage, we had lived in nine 'homes,' - spanning two countries, Hong Kong and the United States of America (including three states in the U.S.).

In time, the household had two Additions - we had two more girls, Melinda and Cissy.
Melinda was born in Texas, and Cissy was born in New Mexico.

S.C. had four different jobs - though each job change was an improvement financially, it nevertheless was a lot of "uprooting." 

Now, you understand I really had no time for anything else besides taking care of the family. 
For me, my girls always came first. 
When they were very young, I would not leave them with any babysitters, unless it was absolutely necessary.
I took care of them and did whatever it was needed of me. 
Call me over-sensitive! over-protective!

For the first twelve years of my marriage, I could not wear any light colored or white clothing because I always had a child sitting in my lap. 

It actually felt strange when I found myself without a child in my lap - when Cissy was old enough to sit by herself in the car.  

We did not have car seats then.

The Submissive Little Wife

So we moved into the apartment.

"You need to mark this day,"my husband said.
I was holding a mop, trying to figure out the way how to best use it.
"This is the first time you have a mop in your hand. right?" he said.
True. That was the first time ever that I tried to mop a floor. My life as a wife and mother in the U.S. started.

I wish that I could say that my art career started then. Unfortunately, it was not the case.

As a matter of fact, I had neither career nor any identity for the next twelve or thirteen years. Unless you consider being a wife and a mother was a career.

I was a stay-home ma - a new mother at that, consulting with Dr. Spock's book everyday.

All our friends were really S.C.'s friends. I had no relatives or friends in Texas.

My life evolved around my husband and our baby.

I was trying to adjust to my role as cook, maid, housekeeper, nursemaid, mother and wife.

We did not use disposable diapers.
The baby had colic often.
Whenever she cried, I would jump.
I don't think that I had enough sleep for the first year or so - may be even longer. 
I was a nervous mother.
I don't think that I read even one book those days.

We had part of our furniture shipped to TX from HK.
We did have a black and white television.
We did buy a washer and a dryer - that made life a bit easier.
We bought one car. S.C. used it to go to work. I did not have a driver's license yet - so I could not really go anywhere during the day. Besides, I did not know my way around Houston. 

I spent almost all my waking hours taking care of the apartment and the baby, mostly the baby.
I had no time to think about anything else.

No, I am not complaining. I am merely stating a fact.

In many ways, my husband was more of the old school than he would admit. He said to me that he did not want me to work and he would take care of me. He did not think that I could drive in Houston. Actually, at that time, Houston only had one Gulf freeway and was not such a big city as it is now. I actually thought it was Country to me. 
S.C. forgot that I had learned to drive in Hong Kong.

Anyway, to adjust my life style from the one I had in HK to the life style in Houston was a major change for me. And being a new mother and a housewife in the States with no domestic help was a big adjustment for me. 

But I was too tired to argue with him.

So, I became the ultimate submissive little wife.  

P.S. Did I mention that we only used disposable diapers when we traveled, which was not often. For everyday, it was the old-fashioned way, we (I should say I) used clothes diapers!

Painting Lessons

When I was a couple of months pregnant with Cynthia, My mother said to me, "I found you an art teacher. He will come to your apartment once a week and give you lessons on Chinese Painting."
"What, ma?" I said.
"I found a great artist . . ."
"I thought that was what you said," I said.

I didn't know why my mother thought that I needed to have lessons on painting when I was pregnant.
Am I missing something here?

I have already told you that my mother was always trying to find somethings for me to do during the summers when I was young. Remember, I mentioned to you my French lessons, my piano lessons, my guitar lessons . . .
But I wasn't a teenager anymore. 
However, I had always loved Art and had little opportunities to have lessons. So . . .
"Okay." I said, "Thank you, ma."

I started taking Chinese Brushwork lessons, once a week, from this wonderful, knowledgeable, and patient artist, Mr. Chow. I had no idea if he had any connections with my family, or how my mother knew him.

So, once a week, on one of the weekday evenings, Mr. Chang would come to my apartment and give me lessons at my dining room table.

He specialized in birds. But, every Chinese painter had to start with the Fours (the four kinds of paintings) -
     The Bamboo
     The Iris
     The Plum blossom
     The Mum

I, of course, being brought up in China, had known how to use the Chinese brush. And I do love paintings.
So, we did lots and lots of bamboos - young bamboos, old bamboos, bamboos in the wind, bamboos in the rain, bamboos in the snow . . .
We did a number of plum blossoms, red one, pink ones . . . Frontal view, side view, back view . . .
And we did a number of irises.

Unfortunately, I had to stop taking lessons when it was close to the time of the birth of my baby - it was a bit too strenuous for me to stand for long period of time to watch my teacher - I had to stand behind him when he demonstrated his techniques to me.
We barely got to the Mums.

We did do lots of birds - We Deviated!
And I like the birds.

So here are two of my productions in 1959:
        My Chinese painting and my baby daughter.

The Boston Bull

In the middle of August heat, we arrived in Houston, Tx., in 1959.

A weary journey-worn couple with a three-months-old baby.

S.C.'s best friend, C.C. and his wife, Elsie, welcomed us to their home. It was more than generous of them to put up with three extra people. 

Elsie, an American Born Chinese (an ABC), later told me that her sister had tried to discourage them about taking us into the family. Elsie came from California. In California, there were immigrants from China, mostly of the lower class - laborers and farmers. Oftentimes, people from the same village would find a way to immigrate to the U.S. under falsified papers - saying that they were immediate family. Once they came here and entered the household, more than likely they could not find any good paying jobs, and it became difficult to ask the family to leave. Elsie's sister thought we might do that to her.

Of course, C.C. knew that we would not.
And, they took us in. 

S.C. went to see his former boss and found out that his position of research scientist was still open. So, he got his old job back. And he told his boss that now he was married he would need a bit more income to live on, his boss agreed. 
He started working the very next week after we arrived in Houston.

C.C. and Elsie had adopted a baby girl, who was merely a few months older than Cynthia. Since both C.C. and Elsie worked, I stayed home to take care of the babies and tried to do a bit of the housework.
Believe me, it was a challenge!

In Hong Kong, I had Helpers. After Cynthia was born, we hired a lived-in nanny to take care of her while I went back to work at the Cultural Center. We had two servants then. 
I knew very little about how to take care of my baby - though I nursed her. The nanny did everything else. My mother supervised at times.
Now with two babies, it was a JOB and Half for me!

Anyway, I tried to make myself useful.

One day, Elsie said," Why don't you take that piece of Pork out of the freezer to thaw. I will cook it when I get home."
I said, "Okay, I will."

After everyone went off to work and I settled the babies down, I went to the freezer looking for the piece of pork.
I looked,
I looked, 
and I looked.

Mind you, at that time, I really couldn't tell one kind of meat from the other. I did not see the word pork on any of the wrappers. Then, I looked some more.

Where was the pork?

What did pork look like? 

I finally picked up the phone and called S.C. at work - I hated doing do that, but I did not know what else to do.
"I could not find the pork," I said.
'It had to be there, Elsie said so," my husband said.
"But I only see a package saying Boston Bull," I said.
Than, I heard laughter.

You see, the words on the package had been partially rubbed off. The original word of Butt had turned to Bull. It was a piece of Boston Butt that Elsie wanted.
But how would I know that the meat was named Boston Butt? 
It should have been named PORK!
When I read the label of "Boston Bull" I assumed it would be Beef.  
Bull - Beef.
Right?

We stayed with them for a couple of weeks. Then, we found an apartment near Rice University and moved into it. 

Mommy - My Mother-in-law

In most cases, the daughters-in-law do not get along with their mothers-in-law.
But no so, in my case. I was so lucky that I had the sweetest mother-in-law one could ever ask for. 

My mother-in-law was gentle, soft spoken, and kind. 
Everyone called her Mommy.
She was a cancer survivor. She was also diabetic. I never ever heard a word of complaint from her. She was cheerful and generous.

She had raised her sister's two orphaned children, Wah and Pauline, besides her own three - Mona, Chong (S.C.), and Dum (Brenda).

I was told that Wah and Pauline had lost their mother to some illness. Their father was killed by the Japanese during Japanese Occupation of HK. At some very young ages, they were left orphaned and homeless. My mother-in-law took them in and raised them as her own.

Both Wah and Pauline grew up to become educators. Both married. Later, they and their families immigrated to Canada. Sadly Wah passed away earlier this year at the age of 84.

My mother-in-law, the sweet lady, had not seen her son for some fourteen or fifteen years. 

Then, soon after he went back to HK, he married me. So, she lost her son again in a sense. To me.

Now, we dropped the "bomb" of the news that we wanted to go the U.S. 

She must have felt terrible, but she never said a word.

I am sure that she had hoped that we would be around, and present her with some grand children. 

But if she was disappointed, she did not say a word either.

In the end, I was glad that she did have the chance to see her grand-daughter, our first born, Cynthia, before we left HK.

Our application for immigration to the U.S. took sometime - well over a year.

We had Cynthia, our first child, in May, l959. 

We left HK in August for the States.

S.C., The Science Teacher

I thought that we were settling down in our life in Hong Kong.

But it was not to be.

Neither S.C. nor I had any specific long range plans at that time. I was content to be a librarian. And I thought S.C. would eventually find a different job besides teaching, since teaching was not really his 'cup of tea.'

Unfortunately, the Degrees he obtained in the U.S. were not recognized in this British Colony. There did not seem to be any possibility for him to get a research job.
  
Hong Kong population had exploded to three plus millions, at that time. The island and the peninsula together were not really very big. So the city had to expand towards inland, towards New territories. But most people preferred to live in the city, because that was where the jobs were.

The underground had not yet been built, neither was the tunnel linking the island with the peninsula. Going into New Territories, you had to ride a train. Coming into the City, you would take the train. Then, you still had to use the public transport once you got into the city.

There were efforts to reclaim land from the sea - it was not enough. And really the only way to increase the number of living spaces in the city was to go Up  - the buildings started to be taller and taller. And the buildings were built very close together. Yes, it was  crowded and noisy. Unless you had owned space before the population explosion, you had to be quite rich to afford free standing homes with gardens. Most people lived in high-risers. 

With increasing numbers of families, there had to be an increasing number of schools being opened - to educate the children. Schools opened up in very crowded areas - even in parts of the high-risers. Oftentimes, roof tops were playgrounds. 
No Greens.

S.C. was teaching High School kids, teens to be exact. The school was not in a desirable area on the island. The children were somewhat rough and tough; and oftentimes, not well-disciplined. He did not relate to the kids and he hated his job.

He also was not happy with the crowds and the constant noise. We lived on the sixth floor of one of the high-risers near Star Ferry on the peninsula. It was a new building at that time. And the location was considered desirable. But it was crowded.  

For those of us used to HK, the crowds and the noise did not bother us. But not to S.C.
After being in the U.S. for some fourteen or fifteen years, he had gotten used to having space and quietude.

We talked about what should we do, and he said that he would like to go back to the States, if there was a way.

I already told you that I was the submissive "little wife." Right?

I said that if that was what he wanted to do, we would try to find a way.

But we did not know how? 

One day at work, someone told me that since I was a refugee from China and since I was working for the U.S.Consulate, I should qualify to immigrate to the U.S. under the Refugee Relief Act For Chinese Intellectuals, and would have priority. 
I said, "But, my husband is not a refugee."
My colleague said that my husband could apply as my dependent.
Well, that was the first time that I had the taste of American Democracy.  I was under the old-fashioned idea that only the wife would be considered as a dependent to the husband, and not the other way around.
And I was wrong.

So I told S.C., and we put in our application. His old buddy, C.C. of Houston, TX, was our sponsor.

Our parents were not happy about this. S.C.'s mother, in particular.

Snake Dinner

We often hear that,
"The Chinese would eat anything that was moving." 

The Chinese were reputed to eat dogs, cats, rats, bear paws, fish eyes, cock combs, camel humps, monkey brains . . .

It certainly DID NOT apply to me as a Chinese growing up in Shanghai. 

However, it was a different story for some other people in China, including my new family. 
The Cantonese eat snakes. 
Snakes are supposed to be delicacies to them.  
The Wans (Yins) are Cantonese and they eat snakes!

S.C.'s uncles said to me that now I am married into the family, I had to attend a Snake Dinner.  

They were not joking! 

So, S.C.'s uncles hosted a snake Dinner For Me!

Was that a test? 

Was that some sort of initiation?

Anyway, we were invited to a Snake Dinner at one of the famous Snake Houses on the island one evening.

I said to myself that I would gather up my courage and taste the dishes, just to show the uncles that I was not afraid.

My in-laws made no comments.

But I was afraid.

S.C. was actually looking forward to it.

So the day came for the Snake Dinner.

We went to this restaurant, where they displayed a 
number of live snakes for the guests to see - large snakes, small snakes, black snakes, gray snakes, multi-colored snakes . . . I walked pass them with my eyes averted.

The whole Wan family was there!
They thoroughly enjoyed each and every dish - every dish featured snake meats.

Well, I somehow survived the evening. I did gingerly taste the snake soup and some of the other snake dishes. 
They actually tasted like chicken. If you did not tell me the dishes were made with snake meats, I would have thought they were chicken. 

However, I never eat snakes again. 

I did pass the Test!

                                  back row #7, #5, #3, my father-in-law
                                  seated #2, Mrs. Wan,the matriarch, #8

                                     The whole family except S.C.

                                                                                  

Our Wonderful Amah

So our life together began.

At first, my Americanized husband did not want to have a lived-in help. (He had been away from HK too long.) He did not like the idea of having someone besides the family there 24/7.  Although, even in our small apartment, there was an area provided for a lived-in help, with a small bedroom and a tiny bath.

Let me explain, the middle class life in HK is very different from the middle class life in the U.S., even today. 

Remember this was in 1957. 
Ordinary people in HK had no dishwashers, no washers, no dryers, and no large freezers (we had an apartment-size refrigerator). 
Most of us would tell you Frozen Foods were not edible. Foods had to be Fresh. People shopped everyday. 
Clothes were washed by hand. Yes, there were ironings to be done and so on. Besides clothing, we had our sheets ironed those days! Even underwear!
Most middle class people had at least one servant, a lived-in one. If you are well off, you have more than one servant, plus the cook, and the Chauffeur. If you are rich, then you have a fleet of servants . . .  
You get the picture.

So anyway, I agreed to have a day helper. 

Well, of course, that didn't work.

Both of us were working, I was at the U.S. Cultural Center and S.C. was teaching. I did not have time to go to market everyday - not to mention, preparing the meals, cleaning up, do the washing and so on. 

Besides, I always had everything done for me except for the time I was in London - I did have to do a bit of cleaning and a little cooking then. But I went to the laundromat for the laundry. I did not have to cook and clean for my room-mate!

So, after a couple of weeks, we ended up with one lived-in amah. 

Our amah, like all the servants, was a professional. 
She always wore a spotless white top, and black wide-legged pants. She had her hair in a long pigtail - neat and tidy. 
She was trained to be an amah, she was very proud of her profession.
 
She was a wonderful cook, a great housekeeper, and a super great organizer. She catered to our needs without us having to say a word.
She had a free hand in preparing the meals and running the household. 
She was loyal and trust-worthy.
She was a jewel.
She liked working for us, because we were not home during the day, that gave her some free time. We did not make her work late, and we certainly were not at all demanding as some other HK people. 
We provided her with a decent place to live, good food to eat , and a fair pay each month plus bonuses of clothing and cash.

She took great care of us, better than I could have.

We bought a little car, which we used on weekends  - visiting our families.

We lived on the peninsula, but worked on the island. During the week, we took the bus to the wharf, then took the ferry across the harbor to the island everyday.

We went to the movies a lot in the evenings. (There was no televisions at homes then.) We would have mango ice cream afterwards.

Life was good.

But S.C. was not happy with teaching.

The North And The South

S.C. returned to Hong Kong in the fall of 1957. His parents were, of course elated. They had not seen him since early 1940s. His mother was so happy to have her beloved son home at long last.

S.C. had spent all his savings to live on and to go back to UT that academic year, in order to earn his Master's degree. I really did not care whether he had much money or not. I had a fairly good job. I was sure that he would find a job. We would manage when we get married.

His mother gave him a nice diamond ring to give to me.
We were officially engaged.

My father thought that his family was not wealthy enough but he said that they did have a Name in HK, so it was acceptable.

You have to understand, the northern people in China do not mix too well with the southerners - much like the Yankees and the Southerners in the U.S. Both sides pride themselves as being superior to the other.

To S.C.'s older sister, I was always "the Girl from Shanghai."

To my parents, I was marrying outside our "Tribe", so to speak.

My father had a couple of meetings with S.C's father, discussing wedding plans.
Father wanted to have a big "ado" because I am his first daughter. My future father-in-law resisted, saying that they knew too many people in HK and he could not afford to feed hundreds of them all at a big wedding.

You see, it was the custom that both families foot the bill for the wedding, not just the Father of the Bride who did it.
And the Shanghai custom was such that most invited guests would give not only a present, but a fair amount of Cash to the newlyweds. So, it really would not cost the family much money.
The Cantonese, especially the Hk people, would only give a gift, and some Cash from close relatives to the newlyweds.
Hosting a sit down dinner for hundreds of people would cost a fortune.
The two of them could not come to an agreement.

We were not too happy that our parents were so rigid in their beliefs - neither would budge - - -

So off we marched to the City Hall, and set a date for a civil ceremony. We told our parents that we did not want to have all this fuss.

It, of course, made both sets of parents mad.

In the end, S.C. and I married at the City Hall, in a simple Civil Ceremony. Only the immediate families attended.
Then, my father-in-law hosted a luncheon for the family - my parents did not attend it.
The same evening, my parents hosted a Dinner for a couple hundred of guests. my in-laws did not attend it.
And a month or so later, my in-laws hosted an elaborate Tea for over 500 people at the world famous Peninsula Hotel in Kowloon -  a big ado.

My mother fixed up one of her apartments for us  and charged us a reduced rent.

S.C. eventually got a teaching job in a High School on the island.

Thus, we started our life together in HK.

We Remember Those Who Went On

                                                S.C. The interpreter


On this Memorial weekend, we remember those who passed on.

Here is a tribute to them and to my late husband.

I wished that he had told me and the girls more about his life as a young student in the interior of China During World War II; his life as a young man in the Armed Forces; and his life as a bachelor in Texas.

It is the truth that we each has a story to tell.

So, my friends, you need to tell your story before it is too late.

Like my friend Bob said, "Write it down, before you lose it."

Write it down!