At the end of the week, I bid Joyce and her aunt good-bye and boarded an express train to Edinburgh, Scotland. I did remember my manners, and told my hostess how I appreciated her having me and gave her a small token gift. I probably should have done something for ruining her precious antique vase. Sorry!
The train ride was uneventful. Everything was clean, proper, and orderly, not like the one from Genoa to Calais. The train ran on time. The porter was helpful. The compartment was comfortable and warm. There was a dining car!. Most English people were reserved. You kept to yourself.
Read a Book!
For the first time in my life, I was on my own. Though I did know that at the end of the journey, I would have contacts. My father had made arrangements with a Scottish business associate of his, Mr.Cairns, for him to act as my guardian of sorts. I was to receive my monthly allowance from him and he was to keep an eye on me. For the next nine months, I would go to Mr. Cairns' office in downtown Edinburgh on the first working day of the month. He would call out to his secretary "Smithie" (a nickname for Smith) to get me my allowance - I believe it was thirty pounds each month. My room and board and tuition were paid separately.
Mr. Cairns was a tall, big man with a Scottish "Burr". He always had a joke or two to tell me. I liked him.
His wife was a no-nonsence and down-to-earth-lady, tall and erect. She was kind.
The Cairns had two daughters. The younger one, Rosemary, was my age. We became friends. Rosemary and I kept in touch throughout the years, until she passed away in 2009. Alex was a bit older, she thought we were kids and did not want to have much to do with us.
I was to live in a Hall - a women's dormitory during the year.
On some weekends I would visit the Cairns. Occasionally, I would spend a weekend at their home.
They lived in a two story stone house. Probably a hundred years old, quaint but comfortable. It had a good sized yard. The Cairns were gardeners, like most people in the British Isles (Ooops!. I almost called them English). They grew flowers as well as some vegetables. I always wondered how they make those beautiful roses bloom in near zero degree temperature. Scotland is cold!
Now the Scots were very thrifty. They normally did not have dinners, but instead they had High Teas. (Not the fancy touristy ones in the hotels that they now call High Tea. Actually, the four o'clock tea should be called simply Tea.) High Tea in Scotland, was a meal in the evenings, around six or so, when instead of dinner, they served tea with something a bit more substantial besides the usual bread, butter, jams, and cakes; they added boiled eggs, sausages, ham, and cheese.
So, one day I was visiting them. We were having High Tea. When Mrs. Cairns asked me if I would like hard-boiled eggs, I said,"Yes, Please."
"One or two?" she asked.
"Two, please," I said.
There was a noticeable silence. Everyone turned to look at me.
How would I know that ladies (or growing girls) were not suppose to ask for two eggs? Men could. Boys, yes. For the women or girls, ONE egg only!
But I was hungry!
Later, they would tell their friends about the Chinese girl who asked for two eggs - a good conversation piece.
Foreign born...art lover...avid reader
Monday, August 11, 2014
The Antique Vase
Joyce and I took the train - this time, a much better one than the one in Italy, to London.
Joyce had an aunt who lived in London. I was to stay there for a week before going up to Edinburgh. It was very nice of her to put me up. She had never met me.
Joyce's aunt lived in a very pleasant and airy flat in the City, in what was once a Terrace home, three stories high, with a basement. Those homes were owned by individual families at one time and now they were converted into flats - apartments. The building was probably about a hundred years old, but it would likely to last another hundred years or two. Solid and sturdy, like the British lady's walking shoes. She had furnished it with nice little watercolors and Oriental vases and such, possibly souvenirs that she gathered from her travels.
I believe she was a teacher.
London! Another new city to explore. New sights. New sounds. I was excited.
Then, I got word that there was a dock strike and it may last for weeks, or months. Our trunks! We would not get our clothing and other stuff for a while. The weather was turning cold. Scotland would be even colder. I did have a coat with me, and a couple of sweaters. But my cotton skirt would not do much good for me once I got to Edinburgh. Even in London, I could feel the chillness in the evenings.
So I decided that I had to buy me something. A skirt! I bought a light gray colored wool skirt. Little did I know that I was to wear that one skirt for the next month or so. Because the dock strike did not end until then. My trunk did not reach me in Edinburgh until sometime in October. I did find out that one can really live with a lot less clothing than we think we needed. No-one commented on the fact that I was in that same skirt day after day. I did have different tops on though.
We explored London some on foot and some by bus. We were learning about London. So much to see and to explore in this great historic city.
After being in the apartment for a few days, Joyce and I decided to make ourselves useful. Her aunt had gone out. We decided to clean the apartment. So we did.
We swept.
We dusted.
We washed.
We thought the little vase on the side table could use a good cleaning, so I washed it. The years of dirt came off.
It turned out that the vase was an antique. And antiques are not supposed to be washed, only to be dusted! Good Grief, what was I thinking?
How am I ever going to remedy this?
Joyce's aunt was the ever-gracious lady. She did not lose her cool.
I was mortified!
I needed a lesson on antiques and how to care for them!
Joyce had an aunt who lived in London. I was to stay there for a week before going up to Edinburgh. It was very nice of her to put me up. She had never met me.
Joyce's aunt lived in a very pleasant and airy flat in the City, in what was once a Terrace home, three stories high, with a basement. Those homes were owned by individual families at one time and now they were converted into flats - apartments. The building was probably about a hundred years old, but it would likely to last another hundred years or two. Solid and sturdy, like the British lady's walking shoes. She had furnished it with nice little watercolors and Oriental vases and such, possibly souvenirs that she gathered from her travels.
I believe she was a teacher.
London! Another new city to explore. New sights. New sounds. I was excited.
Then, I got word that there was a dock strike and it may last for weeks, or months. Our trunks! We would not get our clothing and other stuff for a while. The weather was turning cold. Scotland would be even colder. I did have a coat with me, and a couple of sweaters. But my cotton skirt would not do much good for me once I got to Edinburgh. Even in London, I could feel the chillness in the evenings.
So I decided that I had to buy me something. A skirt! I bought a light gray colored wool skirt. Little did I know that I was to wear that one skirt for the next month or so. Because the dock strike did not end until then. My trunk did not reach me in Edinburgh until sometime in October. I did find out that one can really live with a lot less clothing than we think we needed. No-one commented on the fact that I was in that same skirt day after day. I did have different tops on though.
We explored London some on foot and some by bus. We were learning about London. So much to see and to explore in this great historic city.
After being in the apartment for a few days, Joyce and I decided to make ourselves useful. Her aunt had gone out. We decided to clean the apartment. So we did.
We swept.
We dusted.
We washed.
We thought the little vase on the side table could use a good cleaning, so I washed it. The years of dirt came off.
It turned out that the vase was an antique. And antiques are not supposed to be washed, only to be dusted! Good Grief, what was I thinking?
How am I ever going to remedy this?
Joyce's aunt was the ever-gracious lady. She did not lose her cool.
I was mortified!
I needed a lesson on antiques and how to care for them!
Sunday, August 10, 2014
My Taboos
I did mention to you that I had Philosophy at HKU, didn't I?
Yes, I had courses in Psychology, Ethics, Logic, and Philosophy - studies regarding human behavior and human reasoning - virtue, morality, justice, beauty, equality, the soul, the cosmos . . .
I do not profess to understand all of the aspects of these topics, but I do think they helped to shape me as I am today. Though for a long time, I had strayed - by Not Thinking at all. I was too busy tackling my day-to-day life. And, don't we all? It is much easier to Not Think.
Remembering some of the sayings and teachings of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, the Greek philosophers; the sayings and teachings of Confucius and Lao-tse, the Chinese philosophers; or even the reasoning of Immanuel Kant, the German philosopher (I don't recall too much of his philosophy or his reasoning these days, though I had to study Him in my Third year at HKU); and may be teachings of some others, I live my life. These sages and their thoughts and teachings have etched in my brain, though for a long time they stayed dormant at the back of my mind.
I now live in the Bible belt, nevertheless, my thoughts are independent, much to the horror of some of my friends and neighbors. My motto is:
I respect whatever believe that you have and hope you do the same to me.
And, I do to the others as I wish them do unto me - my Chinese Confucius upbringing.
One of my daughters said to me one time, "Mom, you never taught us much about religion."
True, I don't believe in organized religion. I am religious to the point if you mean that I am
Faithful,
Scrupulous
and Conscientious (being religious according to the dictionary).
And I acknowledge that there are somethings neither you nor I or anyone on earth can explain. So call it Super Power, God, Heaven, or whatever you wish.
So, I think I really have taught you Religion, my dear, because I think I have taught you to be faithful, scrupulous, and conscientious.
Now, I have broken one of my Taboos!
I do not normally discuss religion, politics, or sex with anyone. One out of three. Oh, well. You have to take me as I am, and at eighty-five, I have earned the Right to be me. Don't you think?
And to think, I was heading towards Edinburgh, Scotland, one of the most religious part of the British Isles at that time. In days past, they were not even allowed to smile on Sundays!
Yes, I had courses in Psychology, Ethics, Logic, and Philosophy - studies regarding human behavior and human reasoning - virtue, morality, justice, beauty, equality, the soul, the cosmos . . .
I do not profess to understand all of the aspects of these topics, but I do think they helped to shape me as I am today. Though for a long time, I had strayed - by Not Thinking at all. I was too busy tackling my day-to-day life. And, don't we all? It is much easier to Not Think.
Remembering some of the sayings and teachings of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, the Greek philosophers; the sayings and teachings of Confucius and Lao-tse, the Chinese philosophers; or even the reasoning of Immanuel Kant, the German philosopher (I don't recall too much of his philosophy or his reasoning these days, though I had to study Him in my Third year at HKU); and may be teachings of some others, I live my life. These sages and their thoughts and teachings have etched in my brain, though for a long time they stayed dormant at the back of my mind.
I now live in the Bible belt, nevertheless, my thoughts are independent, much to the horror of some of my friends and neighbors. My motto is:
I respect whatever believe that you have and hope you do the same to me.
And, I do to the others as I wish them do unto me - my Chinese Confucius upbringing.
One of my daughters said to me one time, "Mom, you never taught us much about religion."
True, I don't believe in organized religion. I am religious to the point if you mean that I am
Faithful,
Scrupulous
and Conscientious (being religious according to the dictionary).
And I acknowledge that there are somethings neither you nor I or anyone on earth can explain. So call it Super Power, God, Heaven, or whatever you wish.
So, I think I really have taught you Religion, my dear, because I think I have taught you to be faithful, scrupulous, and conscientious.
Now, I have broken one of my Taboos!
I do not normally discuss religion, politics, or sex with anyone. One out of three. Oh, well. You have to take me as I am, and at eighty-five, I have earned the Right to be me. Don't you think?
And to think, I was heading towards Edinburgh, Scotland, one of the most religious part of the British Isles at that time. In days past, they were not even allowed to smile on Sundays!
Saturday, August 9, 2014
A Train Ride Through France
So Joyce and I settled into the compartment of the Third Class train in Geona, Italy. Hard seats, no less! We were a little relieved to find two of the young men who had been our fellow passengers on S. S. Asia with us. Someone we knew at least, if not too well. One named Arthur, I think. And I could not remember the other one's name.
The compartment had two built-in bench seats for three each, facing each other. A young Italian woman and a young Italian man were seating there already before we boarded. We made conversation with the young lady (I wish I could remember her name. I don't have any of the letters that she wrote me.) The young man did not speak English, but the young lady did. She noticed that we were such unseasoned and ignorant travelers and took pity on us. We probably appeared to her somewhat lost, bewildered, and heaven knows what.
The train pulled out of the station. We were on our way.
The country side was beautiful, but we were full of misgivings.
At dinner time, the generous young Italian lady and her young men shared some of their bread and cheese with the four of us Greenhorns. The bread tasted good!
Bless her! What would we have done without her?
Had we known that we would need food on the train, we would have swiped some bread and other foods from the ship.
She found out we were students heading for the British Isles for graduate studies - which, of course, made a big impression on her. She also found out that this was the first train ride for us in Europe and so on - with little knowledge of overseas travels.
She and I became friends. I found out that she was on her way to Turin, going home, and to get married (to that young man sitting next to her, no doubt). She wanted to learn to speaking English better and so on. We expressed our gratitude to her for saving our day.
She and I exchanged addresses. Later, we wrote to each other for a while when I was in Edinburgh, and also after I returned to HK. When I got married years later, she sent me two wedding dolls in traditional Italian costumes. Yes, I have the dolls! Right here! Now!. They are handmade of felt, with intricate embroidery and all, very colorful and exquisite.
the wedding dolls
We bid her and her young man farewell when the train stopped in Turin.
Night had fallen. We were all very tired. We fell asleep sitting upright on those unforgiven wooden seats - probably flopping on each others' shoulders.
Sometime in the middle of the night, the train stopped. We were entering France. Some French border officers came on board, checking our Papers!
Remember, I was a Citizen of the World, belonging to no country in particular? I had Permanent Residency status in Hong Kong and I was traveling with my Permanent Residency Papers. Since I was not visiting France, merely passing through, in transit only, no one thought I needed any particular papers (maybe I could sue our Hong Kong travel agent?). Joyce and the others had passports.
So here I was, in the middle of the night, being escorted off the train by two Frenchmen with guns, to a tiny little wooden structure functioning as a border office building, in the middle of nowhere. Now what!
Did I mention French Officers?
Did I mention guns?
Did I mention in the middle of the night?
Did I mention in the middle of nowhere?
Well, you can imagine how I felt - fearful, lost, helpless, with a hundred different thoughts conjuring up . . . the worst scenario, of course. I told myself to be calm and collected. Be brave. Don't let them see me tremble . . . Act normal!
Now, my brief French lessons I had in Shanghai did not prepare me to have a conversation in French to anyone, let alone a Frenchman. So I played dumb. Je ne comprends pa. With a smile and a shrug!
One of the officers went off to telephone his superior, I guess.
The other one stayed with me in that tiny office. He looked at my Papers with my picture on it, pointing at my picture and said several times, Tres Jolle. I did know what that meant! Oh no, let him find me grotesque! So I simply smiled and shrugged again.
Finally the other one came back, and he indicated to me that I had to pay some money for a Visa. Whew! They wanted money, that's all!
I paid the Fee, and they escorted me back to my compartment. It had been about half an hour or so that had gone by, and I had held up the Whole train! My apologies to my fellow travelers!
I was never so glad to see Joyce and the others. They were happy to see me, too. Unharmed!
The train pulled out. We went through France in the dark.
We finally went to sleep again.
Until this day, I do not remember seeing any of the French countryside on the rest of that train trip. I was too exhausted, and maybe I was too frightened to store what happened the rest of that trip in my brain. I only know -
We arrived in Calais.
We crossed the English Channel.
We landed on English soil.
Much of that was a blur - I only remembered how glad I was that our journey was almost over. Maybe life would be a bit less dramatic now.
Or, maybe Not?
The compartment had two built-in bench seats for three each, facing each other. A young Italian woman and a young Italian man were seating there already before we boarded. We made conversation with the young lady (I wish I could remember her name. I don't have any of the letters that she wrote me.) The young man did not speak English, but the young lady did. She noticed that we were such unseasoned and ignorant travelers and took pity on us. We probably appeared to her somewhat lost, bewildered, and heaven knows what.
The train pulled out of the station. We were on our way.
The country side was beautiful, but we were full of misgivings.
At dinner time, the generous young Italian lady and her young men shared some of their bread and cheese with the four of us Greenhorns. The bread tasted good!
Bless her! What would we have done without her?
Had we known that we would need food on the train, we would have swiped some bread and other foods from the ship.
She found out we were students heading for the British Isles for graduate studies - which, of course, made a big impression on her. She also found out that this was the first train ride for us in Europe and so on - with little knowledge of overseas travels.
She and I became friends. I found out that she was on her way to Turin, going home, and to get married (to that young man sitting next to her, no doubt). She wanted to learn to speaking English better and so on. We expressed our gratitude to her for saving our day.
She and I exchanged addresses. Later, we wrote to each other for a while when I was in Edinburgh, and also after I returned to HK. When I got married years later, she sent me two wedding dolls in traditional Italian costumes. Yes, I have the dolls! Right here! Now!. They are handmade of felt, with intricate embroidery and all, very colorful and exquisite.
We bid her and her young man farewell when the train stopped in Turin.
Night had fallen. We were all very tired. We fell asleep sitting upright on those unforgiven wooden seats - probably flopping on each others' shoulders.
Sometime in the middle of the night, the train stopped. We were entering France. Some French border officers came on board, checking our Papers!
Remember, I was a Citizen of the World, belonging to no country in particular? I had Permanent Residency status in Hong Kong and I was traveling with my Permanent Residency Papers. Since I was not visiting France, merely passing through, in transit only, no one thought I needed any particular papers (maybe I could sue our Hong Kong travel agent?). Joyce and the others had passports.
So here I was, in the middle of the night, being escorted off the train by two Frenchmen with guns, to a tiny little wooden structure functioning as a border office building, in the middle of nowhere. Now what!
Did I mention French Officers?
Did I mention guns?
Did I mention in the middle of the night?
Did I mention in the middle of nowhere?
Well, you can imagine how I felt - fearful, lost, helpless, with a hundred different thoughts conjuring up . . . the worst scenario, of course. I told myself to be calm and collected. Be brave. Don't let them see me tremble . . . Act normal!
Now, my brief French lessons I had in Shanghai did not prepare me to have a conversation in French to anyone, let alone a Frenchman. So I played dumb. Je ne comprends pa. With a smile and a shrug!
One of the officers went off to telephone his superior, I guess.
The other one stayed with me in that tiny office. He looked at my Papers with my picture on it, pointing at my picture and said several times, Tres Jolle. I did know what that meant! Oh no, let him find me grotesque! So I simply smiled and shrugged again.
Finally the other one came back, and he indicated to me that I had to pay some money for a Visa. Whew! They wanted money, that's all!
I paid the Fee, and they escorted me back to my compartment. It had been about half an hour or so that had gone by, and I had held up the Whole train! My apologies to my fellow travelers!
I was never so glad to see Joyce and the others. They were happy to see me, too. Unharmed!
The train pulled out. We went through France in the dark.
We finally went to sleep again.
Until this day, I do not remember seeing any of the French countryside on the rest of that train trip. I was too exhausted, and maybe I was too frightened to store what happened the rest of that trip in my brain. I only know -
We arrived in Calais.
We crossed the English Channel.
We landed on English soil.
Much of that was a blur - I only remembered how glad I was that our journey was almost over. Maybe life would be a bit less dramatic now.
Or, maybe Not?
Friday, August 8, 2014
A Masquerade
We were on our last leg of the voyage.
There was going to be a Masquerade that evening, The Winners would be awarded prizes!
Neither Joyce nor I was prepared for it. We had no costumes! HELP!
So, we put our heads together, trying to borrow, buy, or maybe even steal something. Joyce found a Coolie hat she could wear and a Chinese jacket. I borrowed a Japanese kimono which our WAC had bought to use as a dressing gown, (though I was not keen on pretending to be a Japanese - Oh, what the heck), and a pair of Japanese shoes. We had ladies in saris and men in turbans. Someone dressed as a Chef, another a Spanish senora. We had Burmese man in sarong. We had Ceylon hawkers. Our WAC dressed as a Native American, (I am trying to be politically correct now - at the time, we would have said that she dressed as an American Indian. She had a feather on her head with a headband.)
A superb dinner, with dancing afterwards.
Anyway, everyone on board was 'game' and we had a great time.
Wait, where were the Priests? They were not at the party.
And, I won a prize - a bracelet with all the flags the S S Asia had flown on board! I still have the little bracelet. Guess I am a hoarder.
dressed up for the masquerade
We have made friends, and we were kind of sad that the time had come to say good-bye.
Addresses were exchanged. Promises were made to be in touch.
A day later, we sailed into Genoa harbor.
We disembarked.
We did not see much of Genoa, because Joyce and I and some other students from HK had a train to catch.
Most of us were a bit apprehensive for leaving the safety of the ship where we had been pampered and into the chaotic land transportation.
We had our suitcases. Our trunks were to be forwarded to our destination. In my case, Edinburgh, Scotland.
Now, we had traveled first Class on the ship, and expected to have first class train tickets. Right?
Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!
For whatever reason, all of us had third class tickets on an Overnight Train from Genoa to Calais, France - NOT a sleeper, mind you. We fought the crowd and manged to secure seats for us. Seats were not assigned.
Have you ever traveled in Europe by train, Third Class? There was no Dinning Car either!
May be you should try it sometime.
There was going to be a Masquerade that evening, The Winners would be awarded prizes!
Neither Joyce nor I was prepared for it. We had no costumes! HELP!
So, we put our heads together, trying to borrow, buy, or maybe even steal something. Joyce found a Coolie hat she could wear and a Chinese jacket. I borrowed a Japanese kimono which our WAC had bought to use as a dressing gown, (though I was not keen on pretending to be a Japanese - Oh, what the heck), and a pair of Japanese shoes. We had ladies in saris and men in turbans. Someone dressed as a Chef, another a Spanish senora. We had Burmese man in sarong. We had Ceylon hawkers. Our WAC dressed as a Native American, (I am trying to be politically correct now - at the time, we would have said that she dressed as an American Indian. She had a feather on her head with a headband.)
A superb dinner, with dancing afterwards.
Anyway, everyone on board was 'game' and we had a great time.
Wait, where were the Priests? They were not at the party.
And, I won a prize - a bracelet with all the flags the S S Asia had flown on board! I still have the little bracelet. Guess I am a hoarder.
We have made friends, and we were kind of sad that the time had come to say good-bye.
Addresses were exchanged. Promises were made to be in touch.
A day later, we sailed into Genoa harbor.
We disembarked.
We did not see much of Genoa, because Joyce and I and some other students from HK had a train to catch.
Most of us were a bit apprehensive for leaving the safety of the ship where we had been pampered and into the chaotic land transportation.
We had our suitcases. Our trunks were to be forwarded to our destination. In my case, Edinburgh, Scotland.
Now, we had traveled first Class on the ship, and expected to have first class train tickets. Right?
Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!
For whatever reason, all of us had third class tickets on an Overnight Train from Genoa to Calais, France - NOT a sleeper, mind you. We fought the crowd and manged to secure seats for us. Seats were not assigned.
Have you ever traveled in Europe by train, Third Class? There was no Dinning Car either!
May be you should try it sometime.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Window On Ancient Rome
We docked in Napoli - Naples. The air was clear. The sky was blue. There was music in the air, I swear. Seemed like most Italians could sing and sing well. Some would bellow out some arias at the drop of the hat. They grew up with all these operas!
My first time in this beautiful land!
Naples is not like the more touristy cities like Rome, Florence, Venice, or the others. However, it is one of the largest municipality in Italy after Rome and Milan. It has its own charm.
Would you believe the famous tourist attraction was the Cemetery? Yes, it is true! After 18th century, the churches were too full for burials, so notable families built chapels and crypts in more secular locations than in the churches. The famous cemetery of Poggiorcale is laid out like a garden, like an estate. There were some of the most breathtakingly beautiful marble statues all over the place. (I think in some way it rivals the Rodin Garden in Paris.) Some of the statutes had more of the Grecian grace than the Roman masculinity. And the many magnificent towering cypresses! The manicured lawns and hand-clipped (I should say hand-crafted) hedges! The profusion of blooming flowers! The sculpted shrubs in various animal or organic shapes! Only Italians had the imagination to make a cemetery such a serene and artistic place for the dead!
Like any touristy cities, there were vendors trying to sell you souvenirs. They flocked towards you as soon as you got off the ship. I encountered young boys with trays of cameos for sell. Some of the cameos were quite nice. I did not buy any though.
We must have stayed in Naples for more than one day. Because, we had time to go to Pompeii. Window on Ancient Rome!
Pompeii was destroyed by the eruption of the still active volcano Mount Vesuvius in A.D.79. The excavation and restoration is still going on today I believe.
I had seen pictures of the fossilized man and dog in my history books. And here I was staring at the real thing! The twisted body. The expression of utter fear on the man's face. It was unbelievable!
At that time, a fair part of the streets were restored and a number of the partial dwellings were preserved. By looking at the artifacts, we could imagine how people lived during that time. There were Roman baths, there were aqua-ducts - the Romans had running water. There were murals depicting daily lives of the people who lived there.
Now then, when we got to one part of an intersection of the streets, we women and girls were told that we could not go further with the group - Men only!
I was not very happy and wanted to know WHY. Later, we learned that the murals that were shown to the men were considered a bit too "risque" for us women. Bah! I think now they have changed the rules. Those murals probably would not shock even the teens today.
Well, I did not get to see the paintings of the orgies.
The ruins on the whole was very impressive and interesting.
But I still want to know what the men saw though.
We left Pompeii and Naples way too soon.
My first time in this beautiful land!
Naples is not like the more touristy cities like Rome, Florence, Venice, or the others. However, it is one of the largest municipality in Italy after Rome and Milan. It has its own charm.
Would you believe the famous tourist attraction was the Cemetery? Yes, it is true! After 18th century, the churches were too full for burials, so notable families built chapels and crypts in more secular locations than in the churches. The famous cemetery of Poggiorcale is laid out like a garden, like an estate. There were some of the most breathtakingly beautiful marble statues all over the place. (I think in some way it rivals the Rodin Garden in Paris.) Some of the statutes had more of the Grecian grace than the Roman masculinity. And the many magnificent towering cypresses! The manicured lawns and hand-clipped (I should say hand-crafted) hedges! The profusion of blooming flowers! The sculpted shrubs in various animal or organic shapes! Only Italians had the imagination to make a cemetery such a serene and artistic place for the dead!
Like any touristy cities, there were vendors trying to sell you souvenirs. They flocked towards you as soon as you got off the ship. I encountered young boys with trays of cameos for sell. Some of the cameos were quite nice. I did not buy any though.
We must have stayed in Naples for more than one day. Because, we had time to go to Pompeii. Window on Ancient Rome!
Pompeii was destroyed by the eruption of the still active volcano Mount Vesuvius in A.D.79. The excavation and restoration is still going on today I believe.
I had seen pictures of the fossilized man and dog in my history books. And here I was staring at the real thing! The twisted body. The expression of utter fear on the man's face. It was unbelievable!
At that time, a fair part of the streets were restored and a number of the partial dwellings were preserved. By looking at the artifacts, we could imagine how people lived during that time. There were Roman baths, there were aqua-ducts - the Romans had running water. There were murals depicting daily lives of the people who lived there.
Now then, when we got to one part of an intersection of the streets, we women and girls were told that we could not go further with the group - Men only!
I was not very happy and wanted to know WHY. Later, we learned that the murals that were shown to the men were considered a bit too "risque" for us women. Bah! I think now they have changed the rules. Those murals probably would not shock even the teens today.
Well, I did not get to see the paintings of the orgies.
The ruins on the whole was very impressive and interesting.
But I still want to know what the men saw though.
We left Pompeii and Naples way too soon.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Sailing In The Big Sea
We were leaving Asia and Africa, and heading towards Europe.
We were in The Mediterranean Sea, also known as The Big Sea, heading towards Italy.
Italy, one of the most beautiful countries in Europe. Italy, the birth place of Renaissance. Italy, Bel Paese - beautiful country!
I had read about the Colosseum, I had tasted the pastas, I had heard Puccini, I had seen reproductions of Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling, I had seen copies of Leonardo da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" . . .
Even its shape is sexy - the high-heeled boot, kicking Sicily.
I was excited, even though I knew that I was only going to be in a few of its cities for a very short time.
The Mediterranean!
How many words are there to describe Blue -
Azure
Lapis lazuli
Aquamarine
Cobalt blue
Prussian blue
Thalo blue
Midnight blue
Sky blue
Cerulean blue
Turquoise blue
Greenish blue
Purplish blue
Violet blue . . .
And, of course, Mediterranean Blue!
The many colors of blue. Saturated! Intense! Electrifying!
You could find all of them in the Mediterranean!
And the brilliant and beautiful sunlight!
One time, not long ago, someone asked me if I could live anywhere where would I like to live?
I said, "Italy."
I have always been partial to Italy. Yes, I like France. But I feel more at home in Italy. I don't know why - I don't even speak the language. But that's how I feel. I had the good fortune of being in the region of Umbria, North of Rome, for two great weeks, painting - staying in Terni, I visited San Gemini, Carsulae, Assisi, Todi, Labro. Perugio, Spoleto, Narni, Orvieto, Stonecone, and other little towns (one everyday). A lifetime of memories. I loved the food, the people, the places, the sounds, and the sights. Yes, even the wine!
(In later years, I visited the Sistine Chapel and marveled at Michelangelo's work. I also, had the good fortune of seeing Leonardo's Mona Lisa in Paris, not once, but twice.)
Our waiters and stewards seemed to be happier. May be it was because we were nearing their homeland. They were going home.
The sea was calm. The weather was balmy.
I could almost hear them singing.
Let me cruise on the Mediterranean forever.
We were in The Mediterranean Sea, also known as The Big Sea, heading towards Italy.
Italy, one of the most beautiful countries in Europe. Italy, the birth place of Renaissance. Italy, Bel Paese - beautiful country!
I had read about the Colosseum, I had tasted the pastas, I had heard Puccini, I had seen reproductions of Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling, I had seen copies of Leonardo da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" . . .
Even its shape is sexy - the high-heeled boot, kicking Sicily.
I was excited, even though I knew that I was only going to be in a few of its cities for a very short time.
The Mediterranean!
How many words are there to describe Blue -
Azure
Lapis lazuli
Aquamarine
Cobalt blue
Prussian blue
Thalo blue
Midnight blue
Sky blue
Cerulean blue
Turquoise blue
Greenish blue
Purplish blue
Violet blue . . .
And, of course, Mediterranean Blue!
The many colors of blue. Saturated! Intense! Electrifying!
You could find all of them in the Mediterranean!
And the brilliant and beautiful sunlight!
One time, not long ago, someone asked me if I could live anywhere where would I like to live?
I said, "Italy."
I have always been partial to Italy. Yes, I like France. But I feel more at home in Italy. I don't know why - I don't even speak the language. But that's how I feel. I had the good fortune of being in the region of Umbria, North of Rome, for two great weeks, painting - staying in Terni, I visited San Gemini, Carsulae, Assisi, Todi, Labro. Perugio, Spoleto, Narni, Orvieto, Stonecone, and other little towns (one everyday). A lifetime of memories. I loved the food, the people, the places, the sounds, and the sights. Yes, even the wine!
(In later years, I visited the Sistine Chapel and marveled at Michelangelo's work. I also, had the good fortune of seeing Leonardo's Mona Lisa in Paris, not once, but twice.)
Our waiters and stewards seemed to be happier. May be it was because we were nearing their homeland. They were going home.
The sea was calm. The weather was balmy.
I could almost hear them singing.
Let me cruise on the Mediterranean forever.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Cairo And Port Said
So much was happening at once, it seemed.
I was having a difficult time trying to take all of it in.
I do remember sipping some cold drink in a crystal goblet at an open air restaurant in Cairo, watching one of the most beautiful sunsets in the desert. The enchanting Nile was near by. The Nile, the longest river in the world!
Cleopatra going up the River Cydnus in a magnificent barge - to meet Marc (Mark) Antony. Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, the richest woman in Egypt, and Marc Antony, the handsome Roman triumvir - the most famous Doomed-lovers in history. Or, may be you only remember Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. (Hollywood's new version of Cleopatra and Marc Antony on screen and off.) No matter - famous lovers no less.
Queen Nefertiti of 14th century B.C.! I still have a small carved-bone image of her, I bought it in Cairo or Port Said? It was a wonder that I have kept her all these years through the many moves I have made around the world. And, I also have a miniature camel caravan of carved wood, each camel is about two inches or so in size - three camels with green packs on their backs, led by a man on a donkey. The thread is still intact! Yes, I do treasure them. May be my grandchildren will, too, after they have read My Story.
the caravan
We must have spent a night in Cairo, because we had time to visit the Museum in Cairo. There I saw a lot of the treasures of the Pharaohs, King Tut's (ooops . . . sorry, teachie) included; the solid gold death mask, the jewel encrusted sarcophagus, the mummy cases, the mummies . . .
A bit eerie, but Most impressive!
Years later, in London, I went to the British Museum and saw the many items the British took from Egypt - the enormous bas-relief parts and fragments of architecture from temples and other ancient buildings, and the many, many artifacts, I wondered . . .
There was much suffering for people in this world, years ago and now. May be forever.
There were also many very interesting buildings in the City of Cairo. An architect's delight, I imagine.
Alas, I had to leave this intriguing ancient city, so full of history and culture!
After a short stop in Port Said, I returned to S. S. Asia. We set sail, heading towards the Mediterranean. To Italy!
I was having a difficult time trying to take all of it in.
I do remember sipping some cold drink in a crystal goblet at an open air restaurant in Cairo, watching one of the most beautiful sunsets in the desert. The enchanting Nile was near by. The Nile, the longest river in the world!
Cleopatra going up the River Cydnus in a magnificent barge - to meet Marc (Mark) Antony. Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, the richest woman in Egypt, and Marc Antony, the handsome Roman triumvir - the most famous Doomed-lovers in history. Or, may be you only remember Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. (Hollywood's new version of Cleopatra and Marc Antony on screen and off.) No matter - famous lovers no less.
Queen Nefertiti of 14th century B.C.! I still have a small carved-bone image of her, I bought it in Cairo or Port Said? It was a wonder that I have kept her all these years through the many moves I have made around the world. And, I also have a miniature camel caravan of carved wood, each camel is about two inches or so in size - three camels with green packs on their backs, led by a man on a donkey. The thread is still intact! Yes, I do treasure them. May be my grandchildren will, too, after they have read My Story.
We must have spent a night in Cairo, because we had time to visit the Museum in Cairo. There I saw a lot of the treasures of the Pharaohs, King Tut's (ooops . . . sorry, teachie) included; the solid gold death mask, the jewel encrusted sarcophagus, the mummy cases, the mummies . . .
A bit eerie, but Most impressive!
Years later, in London, I went to the British Museum and saw the many items the British took from Egypt - the enormous bas-relief parts and fragments of architecture from temples and other ancient buildings, and the many, many artifacts, I wondered . . .
There was much suffering for people in this world, years ago and now. May be forever.
There were also many very interesting buildings in the City of Cairo. An architect's delight, I imagine.
Alas, I had to leave this intriguing ancient city, so full of history and culture!
After a short stop in Port Said, I returned to S. S. Asia. We set sail, heading towards the Mediterranean. To Italy!
Monday, August 4, 2014
The Red Sea and The Pyramids
I was following the16th Century Afonso de Albuquerque's footsteps, the first European to have sailed in these waters.
The Red Sea, The Erythraean Sea, is a seawater inlet of the Indian Ocean, lying between Africa and Asia.
It has the warmest and the saltest water.
The Red Sea was formed by Arabian being split from Africa by movement of the Red Sea Rift. It is still widening. It is believed that it will become an ocean in time - not in our lifetime though.
The highly salinity of the water is not hospitable to living organisms.
The Red sea, however, is rich and diverse in ecosystem. Lots of coral!
It is where the Exodus took place - the Hebrew Exodus from Egypt. (The story of the Israelites crossing a body of water - the Israelites' escape from slavery in Egypt.)
The Suez Canal was built and opened in 1869. One of the marvels of the world. The ship was to go through the Canal. The passengers were given the option of staying on board or getting off the ship for an excursion to Cairo, to the Pyramids, one of the Seven Wonders of The Ancient World. I opted to take the excursion. Years later, I had the chance to cruise down the Panama Canal - and I was glad that I went to the pyramids instead of going through the Suez Canal when I was in Cairo. Sure the Canal was a marvel of engineering, but the opening and closing the locks, slowly and repeatedly, were tedious and monotonous. Suez Canal may be bigger (?) than Panama Canal, but the process was the same. I would have missed King Tut if I had stayed on board.
So, I went into the desert!
I know now why all the people covered themselves from head to toe in this Heat - the sand was everywhere! And the sun was unkind to exposed skin.
A number of us passengers disembarked at the entrance of the Canal and boarded several buses to the desert. We rode for a long while. Then we saw the little triangular structures in the distance. In the vast desert, the structures looked small. But wait until you get closer! Wow! The monumental Sphinx of Queen Hatshepsut, with the body of a lion and the head of a man, dwarfed us. And the enormous Pyramids!!! We realized how small we were in this Big world. How insignificant we human beings were! Ants on a giant surface!
Guess what? I had the wonderful opportunity to go inside one of the pyramids, through the narrow tunnels, into one of the death chambers. It was a bit eerie.
At that time, almost all the treasures were taken out of the tomb - by thieves, by robbers, or by archaeologists. There were merely a few pieces of artifacts placed there to satisfy the tourists (most likely by the Department of Tourism in Egypt).
Luckily, a lot of the treasures found by archaeologists were preserved in the Museum in Cairo, and I did get to see them when we got back to Cairo - at the time, my interest in history was such that I did not realize how lucky I was, for much of what I saw was what later exhibited in a museum in TX, the Treasures of King Tut. Of course, if I had called the Pharaoh Tutankhamen, King Tut, my history teacher would have not only "tut-tuted" me, but probably slapped me on the face. How dare You! She would say.
I also got to ride the camel. Believe me, you needed a sea-sick pill before getting on one of these creatures. They were decorated with beautiful carpets, colored shawls, bells and whistles, and other do-das for the tourists, and they were adorable (if you hold your nose somewhat). It, nevertheless, was fun. An event to remember!
We, then, were bused back into the City of Cairo.
The Red Sea, The Erythraean Sea, is a seawater inlet of the Indian Ocean, lying between Africa and Asia.
It has the warmest and the saltest water.
The Red Sea was formed by Arabian being split from Africa by movement of the Red Sea Rift. It is still widening. It is believed that it will become an ocean in time - not in our lifetime though.
The highly salinity of the water is not hospitable to living organisms.
The Red sea, however, is rich and diverse in ecosystem. Lots of coral!
It is where the Exodus took place - the Hebrew Exodus from Egypt. (The story of the Israelites crossing a body of water - the Israelites' escape from slavery in Egypt.)
The Suez Canal was built and opened in 1869. One of the marvels of the world. The ship was to go through the Canal. The passengers were given the option of staying on board or getting off the ship for an excursion to Cairo, to the Pyramids, one of the Seven Wonders of The Ancient World. I opted to take the excursion. Years later, I had the chance to cruise down the Panama Canal - and I was glad that I went to the pyramids instead of going through the Suez Canal when I was in Cairo. Sure the Canal was a marvel of engineering, but the opening and closing the locks, slowly and repeatedly, were tedious and monotonous. Suez Canal may be bigger (?) than Panama Canal, but the process was the same. I would have missed King Tut if I had stayed on board.
So, I went into the desert!
I know now why all the people covered themselves from head to toe in this Heat - the sand was everywhere! And the sun was unkind to exposed skin.
A number of us passengers disembarked at the entrance of the Canal and boarded several buses to the desert. We rode for a long while. Then we saw the little triangular structures in the distance. In the vast desert, the structures looked small. But wait until you get closer! Wow! The monumental Sphinx of Queen Hatshepsut, with the body of a lion and the head of a man, dwarfed us. And the enormous Pyramids!!! We realized how small we were in this Big world. How insignificant we human beings were! Ants on a giant surface!
Guess what? I had the wonderful opportunity to go inside one of the pyramids, through the narrow tunnels, into one of the death chambers. It was a bit eerie.
At that time, almost all the treasures were taken out of the tomb - by thieves, by robbers, or by archaeologists. There were merely a few pieces of artifacts placed there to satisfy the tourists (most likely by the Department of Tourism in Egypt).
Luckily, a lot of the treasures found by archaeologists were preserved in the Museum in Cairo, and I did get to see them when we got back to Cairo - at the time, my interest in history was such that I did not realize how lucky I was, for much of what I saw was what later exhibited in a museum in TX, the Treasures of King Tut. Of course, if I had called the Pharaoh Tutankhamen, King Tut, my history teacher would have not only "tut-tuted" me, but probably slapped me on the face. How dare You! She would say.
I also got to ride the camel. Believe me, you needed a sea-sick pill before getting on one of these creatures. They were decorated with beautiful carpets, colored shawls, bells and whistles, and other do-das for the tourists, and they were adorable (if you hold your nose somewhat). It, nevertheless, was fun. An event to remember!
We, then, were bused back into the City of Cairo.
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Arabian Nights
I may have been dreaming of King Shakryar and his bride last night. May be Sinbad the Sailor?
One Thousand and One Arabian Nights! I remember the stories I read when I was young. King Shakryar killed his wife the day after his wedding night to prevent her from loving someone-else. He married a thousand times and killed a thousand wives, until he married the Magician's daughter. She started telling him a story each night, with a Cliff-hanger ending? - so that he would want to hear more of the stories, and delay killing her. Such romance!
In 1954, I was in the Arabian Sea, approaching Port Aden.
In Aden, Joyce and I hired an imposing- looking Guide to go sightseeing. I named him our Ali-BaBa. Ali-BaBa was well over six feet tall, truly "dark and handsome" in his flowing robe and turban. He had the most amazing and mesmerizing dark eyes I had ever saw, as if he could hypnotize you anytime he wanted to. I guess he could have picked me up with three fingers literally.
He took us around and then to the Bazaar. What a sight! I loved it! However, there was a hint of Fear in me. I felt that any minute, someone would draw a knife from his sleeves and slash my throat or something. Call me over sensitive.
Did I say that I loved the Bazaar? I really did. I love Shopping! I loved the many exotic wares. The myriad objects with wonderful, intricate forms and colors, a tourist's dream, The textiles! The brass-wares! The carvings! The musical instruments! Those pointed-toed shoes!
I was a kid in the candy store.
I can imagine how Marco Polo felt when he first landed in China. All the sights and sounds must have had the same effects on him as the Aden bazaar had on me.
Alas, we could only get a small souvenir a piece each.
Soon we were in the Red Sea.
One Thousand and One Arabian Nights! I remember the stories I read when I was young. King Shakryar killed his wife the day after his wedding night to prevent her from loving someone-else. He married a thousand times and killed a thousand wives, until he married the Magician's daughter. She started telling him a story each night, with a Cliff-hanger ending? - so that he would want to hear more of the stories, and delay killing her. Such romance!
In 1954, I was in the Arabian Sea, approaching Port Aden.
In Aden, Joyce and I hired an imposing- looking Guide to go sightseeing. I named him our Ali-BaBa. Ali-BaBa was well over six feet tall, truly "dark and handsome" in his flowing robe and turban. He had the most amazing and mesmerizing dark eyes I had ever saw, as if he could hypnotize you anytime he wanted to. I guess he could have picked me up with three fingers literally.
He took us around and then to the Bazaar. What a sight! I loved it! However, there was a hint of Fear in me. I felt that any minute, someone would draw a knife from his sleeves and slash my throat or something. Call me over sensitive.
Did I say that I loved the Bazaar? I really did. I love Shopping! I loved the many exotic wares. The myriad objects with wonderful, intricate forms and colors, a tourist's dream, The textiles! The brass-wares! The carvings! The musical instruments! Those pointed-toed shoes!
I was a kid in the candy store.
I can imagine how Marco Polo felt when he first landed in China. All the sights and sounds must have had the same effects on him as the Aden bazaar had on me.
Soon we were in the Red Sea.
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