china

Prairie Post (Today from Okinawa)

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Prairie Post

April 29, 2014

(Today from Okinawa)

Is it the rain, here, on this island of longevity, one downpour after the next, or is it the sunshine that comes after a day of steady precipitation? Is it the wind that blows in your face and tries to take you off your feet or is it the calm, humid climate that retells a story only narrated on subtropical islands? Is it the moderate climate that makes life just a little easier, just a little more comfortable every day of the year?

Perhaps it is the food that everybody yearns for here; perhaps they truly are what they eat.  Perhaps the chanpuru, with eggs and goya, or the purple sweet potato substituting for raissu, here in this part of the world, or purple sweet potato ice-cream, or purple sweet potato cookies. And one must ask why, why no one discusses the connections between pork consumption and longevity – here, where pork ribs, pork feet, pork tongue, pork bacon, pork, pork, and pork is eaten. Perhaps people are correct in suggesting that pork fat strengthens coronary walls, boosts the cardiovascular system, the good fat, they call it… but perhaps it is simply moderation after all, hari hatchi bu must have been invented here, on this island.  Dooshite, dooshite?

But then, it may be the lower stress, the easy-going mentality, “Okinawa time,” the island version of tranquility, or is it the music of the sanshin that projects cheerfulness and bliss, the dancing of notes, more a gliding of feet with an occasional stomp … with swirling “mini-hula-like” hands. Is it the creative minds that encourage the potters, textile weavers, and glassware makers to thrive? Perhaps the secret to longevity is that shisa simply protects from all evil by scaring the bad while keeping the good.

Or is it simply a historical fluke, the helpful side-effect of a foreign invader who first destroyed and then cultivated, improved hygiene and changed public health? Perhaps it is a geographic fluke, a crossroads mixing of the best of China, Korea, Japan and Southeast Asia?

And what would the oldest of the old say? That family is important, then health, then hobbies, and then social relations? That keeping active is important perhaps by folding origami, by weaving baskets or crafting small hats. That one can trust a daughter who always takes good care, even sleeps in the same room? Or that the national health care system, which pays for flexible stays at the day center, provides quality care and meaning for their lives and that 45 people in the day center support with friendship?

Is it that the oldest old do not fatigue easily here and that they appreciate company and that they like to give and receive small presents? Perhaps it is because they continue to speak Hogen and chant songs from the past or they continue to enjoy karaoke? Is it the cold water they wash themselves with or is it the fact they do not need and they do not take medication? Then, is it the strong handshake, strength in very old age that makes the difference, or is it a deep sense of spirituality, the sense that ancestors continue to guide through a very long life so long as one prays at the family shrine and visits the family tomb?

Perhaps it is simply the belief that a long life is given if a long life is strived for. Perhaps it is simply important to be kind and attentive, and that years are granted when years are enjoyed, here on this longevity island where everyone loves the temperate climate, the mouthwatering pork with sweet potatoes and where stress is not something people appear to come across very often.

Prairie Post (this time from Hong Kong)

by

Prairie Post

5-10-11

(this time from Hong Kong)

It is hot in this town, very hot and very sticky.  The mountains calmly compete with skyscrapers for height and splendor. Thick clouds move steadily between these man-made and nature-made giants.  Nobody here seems to mind the oppressing weather, people are surrounded by the South Asian Sea; salt water must flow in their veins.  They don’t need rain; they have enough humidity filling the space around them.

Space is always on their mind, here is this city of seven million, space is essential.  Here, they tear down 20-story skyscrapers so that they can replace them with 40-story skyscrapers.  The only way to create real estate is to move vertically. People live in small compartments, people work in small compartments, people move in small compartments.  Space is the most precious commodity here.

Space is also important to Philippine workers who have a day off and find their gathering place on the sidewalks.  They meet with family and friends and orchestrate the largest picnic festival in the city. No matter the weather, it is time to gather for this hard-working ethnic group.

Living space consists of a double bed and a small two-foot space from bed to window.  Two people cannot move in this space at the same time, unless they also move vertically over bed and over chairs and over suitcases.  Space is the issue here in this metropolis. The sea of skyscrapers make up an amazing community of illuminated buildings, most arranged in feng shui fashion, some violating this oriental form of architecture. This ancient belief in aesthetics negotiating between heaven and earth is visible everywhere, balance between wind and water, all to improve life in positive ways.

Feng Shui did not matter to a those older people who used to live in wire cages. No other place to live, until the Helping Hand came to the rescue and built decent housing.  Now they cheer on visitors, they are eager to show off their volunteer activities.  They live four to five people to a room, they have few of their own belongings, but they happily play mahjong, four people to a table, with shuffled tiles, with strategy and a little bit of luck.

Siddhārtha Gautama did not believe in luck, he considered belief in luck to be low arts.  His image overlooks the mountains here in the backyard of the big city.  His smile comforts, projects harmony and good will. A small hike from the cable car station, following chants in the background of the monastery and stairs that seem to lead to the sky in which the master appears to dominate.

A small fishing village is situated just down the road. Metal sheds built on stilts, seemingly floating in the bay area.  All streets here point to the market, open spaces filled with the scent of fish, some dried, some alive in water, all ready to be sold. Older people work in these shacks, live in small quarters behind. Their lives are connected with other family members and the community.

Older people also run the Ginkgo restaurant, a small venue on the main island. Septuagenarians cook the meals, octogenarians serve food with a sly smile on their face; they take care of any of the costumers’ needs. They quietly protest mandatory retirement in many other jobs, show their reliable service. The older generation wants to preserve the ways of the past.

The younger generation has different ideas about their future.  They don’t plan to have children because it is too expensive – who can afford the education of children when you can’t afford to pay your own rent. Chinese women from the mainland, however, visit here to bear their children – seven days are allotted for these unforeign foreigners.  If Chinese children from the mainland see the first light in Hong Kong, they will become residents.  Other Chinese residents need to invest millions of dollars into real estate to become residents. Because so many persons from mainland China became rich so quickly, the Hong Kong government needed to raise the investment limit by several million of Hong Kong dollars.

Shopping remains an adventure in this part of the world.  How about a discount?  They are willing to lower the price, perhaps, and they smile, smile, and smile until the price offered is too low for comfort… no, no, no, 210 Hong Kong dollars is simply not enough. But what if the tourists leave, what if they don’t return, it is time to finish the deal at 220 dollars. It’s the first sale of the night, so they will allow a special discount, or so they say.

This major city on the south end of China is a city of delightful dishes. Dim Sum, the traditional, especially prepared, the vegetarian home-cooked meals eaten in the temple, the tea time at the Peninsula, the goose in Soho, the noodles, the rice, and the fish, and finally the longevity buns and the mango pudding.  This is a city of oriental taste and breathtaking smells. Pick up the sticks and come on in!

People move up the escalator, still the escalator, and still the same escalator.  It’s the only way to climb these steep hills.  They move down to the underground, a most efficient underground, they move to the ferry and off the ferry.  Transportation is vital, transportation is efficient. Hong Kong, a lively place, here, where the people keep moving, where space is cherished and where everybody spends time at the harbor to capture the magnificent skyline of this vivacious city.