Another delicious dish from Cecelia Chiang’s cookbook—this time Hong Shao Rou, otherwise known as Red-Braised Pork, or Red-Cooked Pork. This rich and aromatic dish is a favorite of northern Chinese, especially in Beijing, during the dark, cold winter months. It is sometimes cooked with about a cup and a half of whole peeled chestnuts, which was apparently Chairman Mao’s preferred way. HongShao Rou is often served on a bed of pickled veggies, or, in nicer restaurants, on a bed of lettuce, but I think the best way is with a bowl of steamed white rice (‘sweet rice’, or ‘sticky rice’), a side of crispy greens and corn cakes. A note on the corn cakes—I found that in China the corncakes are made without salt (I could never figure out why), and fried crispy in oil. They tend to be a bit thicker and heavier than the ones we make here in the south, but they go really well with this dish. I remember a little place about 20 minutes bike ride from my apartment in Beijing, where you could get an absolutely perfect, melt-in-your-mouth Red-Cooked Pork, served on a bed of pickled veggies, with corn cakes, and a delicately steamed Grass Fish with ginger sauce. Riding out there on my bike, shivering in the frigid night air, watching the stars glide by, the people and packages and carts moving in and out of the hutongs (alley neighborhoods) was a memorable experience for me. Since this dish was so rich, I only had it about 4 times or so a year, but it was such a pleasure each time. The ingredients, though simple, produce an intense, complex flavor, and the tenderness of the pork was heavenly.

 

Here are the ingredients for Hong-Shao Rou—

You may have some trouble finding pork belly in your local supermarket, but talk to the butcher who can probably order a few pounds for you, or seek out an Asian or Chinese market. The dish calls for PORK BELLY, NOT pork maw, which is the stomach inside—the belly is from the OUTSIDE of the pig. It keeps well in the freezer, and in the cold months it can be quite comforting to know you have a supply on hand whenever the craving for red-cooked pork arises! The meat is fatty, very tender and the outer skin, though it seems tough and hard to cut (at least for my poor old knife!), will cook up tender and tasty. Fresh ginger is an absolute! Powdered ginger just will not live up to the proper strength and flavor! Shaoxing wine gives the dish an intensity and the dark soy sauce (I use mushroom soy sauce here) gives the dish it’s characteristic color. Use a good quality brewed soy sauce, like Kikkoman for the main soy sauce. The recipe is as follows—

2 lbs of pork belly

1 24 oz bottle of ShaoXing cooking wine

1 cup of soy sauce

3 TBSP dark soy sauce (like the mushroom soy sauce)

Fresh Ginger root --Six good slices (do NOT peel)

3 pieces of rock sugar OR 3 TBSP sugar

 

You will need a very sharp, good quality knife--cut the pork into one inch cubes—don’t skin the pieces, the skin will become fork tender as it cooks. Cut six good slices from the ginger root and set aside.

 (pork after cooking for 10 minutes, then rinsing)

Put the pork into a heavy pot and cover with cold water 2 inches over the meat. Cook on high for 10 minutes until the foam arises to the surface of the water—skim foam, pour meat into a colander, discard water. Rinse meat chunks with cold water, wash out the pot and place them in the pot again. Pour in the bottle of ShaoXing wine and the ginger slices, then cover with just enough water to 2 inches over the meat. Bring to a boil, then turn down to a medium simmer and cook for 50 minutes until meat is fork-tender. Pour in the soy sauce, uncover and cook for another 30 minutes. As a last addition, pour in the dark soy and sugar, stir well, and cook another 10 minutes on a little higher heat until sauce thickens. Pour into a large dish and garnish with chopped green onions. Serve with rice.

I stir-fried two bunches of Chinese oil cabbage (you cai) with two cups (packed) of fresh bean sprouts and a TBSP of minced garlic, in 1 TBSP sesame seed oil and 1 TBSP vegetable oil. When oil is heated well, stir the vegetables around to coat, stir-fry for 3 minutes, then pour ½ cup of chicken bouillon over it. Stir until cabbage is slightly wilted, but still crispy, then pour into a bowl—this makes a great accompaniment with the pork dish. Let me know if you cook this dish and how it went--comments welcome!

As you would know, from  checking out this blog previously, I really enjoy going to The Tearoom here in Savannah, having a pot of tea, sandwiches and something deliciously sweet. Last month, during my mother's birthday party, I thought of doing just four quick little paintings celebrating the art of Tea. Each piece is painted in acrylic on acid-free 5" X 5" canvas, and sells for $50 each. Each piece is an original work of art, and would be a good first item for an art collector who is just starting out, or a gift or personal pleasure for someone who loves tea.  These also make lovely and thoughtful Christmas or birthday gifts--everyone loves a gift of genuine art! I do plan to put these up in my New Works section soon, but if you would like to purchase them, please contact me at myroseblooms@yahoo.com

(Tearoom 1)

(Tearoom 2)

(Tearoom 3)

(Tearoom 4)

Thanks for taking a look! If you like Tea and Tea Rooms, and would like to request a painting similar to these, just e-mail me!

I check out books on China regularly from our local library system, which is really simple to use—just go online with your library card, search around the system, comprised of 20 branches covering 3 counties. You search ALL branches and get some good results. Non-fiction, fiction, language (though not much on Chinese) and DVDs as well are available. A book I recently found was called “The Seventh Daughter—by Cecilia Chiang—was a combination of biographical sections with short sections of recipes. Mrs. Chiang came here in the 60s to help a sister who was going through a difficult time, and ended up buying a restaurant, which she renamed “The Mandarin” in Los Angeles. Her specialty, which no other place offered at the time, was Northern Chinese cuisine. I was surprised to find that the book had recipes—I thought it was a biography only—but pleased to find some of the dishes I really enjoyed in Beijing. One of these was “Mongolian Lamb”, a simple but tasty dish that was especially good during the winter months. I did change the recipe slightly, to suit my taste for a bit more intensity, but it remains basically the same. Instead of 1 TBP of oyster sauce or dark soy (I use dark mushroom soy sauce), I put 2 TBSP and instead of white pepper (which I am out of at the moment), I used cracked black pepper, freshly ground.

 (A note on where to find ingredients for Chinese cooking...)

There is an excellent Chinese market here in Savannah, Chinatown Market at the corner of Price and Henry Streets (1215 Price Street), owned by David & Jing Lee. I have been buying there, off and on, since about 1999, and have watched the market change and grow. When you first walk in, you will see a general convenience store with all the usual products you’d expect to find. Move to the right and to the back, though, and you will find a door by the butcher shop (stocked with all kinds of freshly cut meats)—and you step through the door into a little piece of China! David & Jing have a huge variety of every kind of sauce, noodle, soup mix and condiment you could want, but the best part, for me, is the new frozen meats section and expanded frozen food sections. I was looking for pork belly to make Hong Shao Rou, or Red-Cooked Pork, a delicious red-glazed winter pork dish served in Beijing and mostly in northern China—none of the 3 American grocery store chains had this type of meat, but Chinatown Market carries it at only $2.99/lb. They also have a wide variety of thinly sliced lamb, beef, pork and chicken for Beijing Hot Pot—though I bought the lamb and beef for my stir fry. There are also many kinds of fish and seafood to be found, as well as numerous styles of dumplings and steamed buns, cakes, mantou (steamed bread), & soup balls (riceballs flavored with fish, shrimp, beef, etc.)—the selection is superb—it’s difficult not to just go crazy and spend $500 on goodies there! There is also a walk-in cooler filled with bags of delicately crispy beansprouts, bok choy, emerald green snow peas, and many other kinds of Chinese vegetables, including a vacuum-pack of lily root, the white, crispy root stir-fried with celery for one of my favorite dishes, Xi Qin Bai He. I highly recommend this store to anyone shopping for Chinese foods, vegetables, meats, spices, condiments and even woks, dishes, knives and chopsticks. Happy hunting!

 

The ingredients for Mongolia Lamb are as follows—

1 ½ lbs thinly sliced lamb (or you can cube a top round of lamb)

2 TBSP Oyster Sauce

2 TBSP  REAL Brewed Soy Sauce (Kikoman is best)

2 TBSP Peanut or Vegetable oil

1 TBSP Freshly ground black pepper (the book calls for white pepper-your choice)

3 bunches of green onions, shredded (or chopped, as you prefer)

1 bunch of cilantro, chopped (remove stems)

¼ cup peanut oil for stir-frying

 

Mix the oyster sauce, oil, pepper and soy sauce and pour over the meat—mix it well in the bowl until all pieces are thoroughly covered, then marinate not less than 2 hours, or overnight.

 

Chop half the green onions. Heat the wok with about ¼ cup of peanut oil until a drop of water dances on the surface. Pour in your marinated meat and the green onions. Stir fry briskly until meat is done and tender, about 10 minutes for the thin-sliced lamb, or 15 minutes for the cubed lamb.

 

When the meat is done, scoop it up into a bowl with cooked sticky rice (also called ‘sweet rice’ or ‘sushi rice’), top with the other half of the green onions (chopped or shredded) and the chopped cilantro.

 Serve with extra soy sauce on the side, a dish of green vegetables or a salad, and mantou (steamed buns). This makes a wonderful autumn or winter night dish and goes well with cold beer (Tsingdao or Yanjing) or a dry red wine. I would like to hear from anyone who makes this recipe, and see how it turned out for you—as always, comments are welcome! Enjoy!

Being an artist is wonderful and I feel extraordinarily blessed to have this Gift, and yet, it is also intensely frustrating as well. I know I have a Gift for creating beautiful art—not meaning to sound too proud—and I love the act of creation from the inspiration, through the sketching and painting, and of course, the divinely wonderful feeling when I can stand back and look at the finished piece, happy to have completed another work of art (that is, when I don’t let my inner-critic take over). There are other moments, though, when being a creative person can bring such sadness. Sometimes an artist has a difficult time getting their work shown, not because it’s badly done, but because of a lack of the proper contacts. Sometimes an artist has many ideas for great paintings, illustrations or designs in their mind, but may not have the time, money or opportunity to get them down on canvas (or paper, etc.), or, once created, may not be able to find the right venue, store, customer or gallery to present those works. Sometimes a customer may request a special commission then, when it’s all ready started (or even finished!), they change their mind (because of financial difficulties or whatever) and decide they don’t want the piece after all—the anticipation, work, and then disappointment is difficult to deal with. There are also stresses in an artist’s personal life that may hinder their self-expression, from finances & health problems to relationships and time management. All of this was broiling and bubbling in my heart when I sat down to do the following sketch, which I present here. It is just a small window into the troubled heart of an artist…

I was watching a video on China not long ago  which included “street foods”, and, invariably they showed the street markets at Wangfujing, filled with funky things like fried goat lungs, scorpions and centipedes on a stick and other disgusting items. It always frustrates me when I see this because that is NOT what most folks in Beijing go for when they look for street food! This is the kind of exoticism that Americans love to film, as if they want us to go, “EWwwww! I always KNEW Chinese would eat anything!” So, I decided to put up an entry here that showed the kinds of things most Beijingers would eat when out and about—most of which, Americans would love! Following are 12 of my favorites, in no particular order...

TANG HULU – This is usually seen in the colder months, though sometimes in the Spring as well. My personal favorite was the candied crab apples, these little round, light reddish, sweet-tart fruits, usually without seeds (though you had to ask to make sure). The sugar on the fruits is thin and crackly, just heavenly, and the perfect  thing when you’re craving something sweet. I began to notice, my second year in Beijing, that the vendors would sell orange slices, banana slices and strawberries in the warmer months—it was all fantastic! It was also interesting to watch them boil the sugar and dip the fruits, which came out in jewel-like golds, reds and oranges.

 

BAOZI – This is steamed dumplings served in bamboo trays, sometimes with a couple of tables and wobbly chairs nearby so you could sit and eat. The most popular filling is pork and chives, but I also recall having them stuffed with shredded carrots, spinach and other veggies (which were cheaper, of course). The dough is thin and the center is juicy, so watch your clothes! This was a popular breakfast food as well, and I was always seeing folks dip them in a hot chili oil or soy sauce. A tray of about 10 costs around a dollar. JIAOZI – Small steamed or fried half-moon shaped dumplings, which are also boiled in soups. These come in a wide variety of fillings, very delicate and delicious! There are restaurants in Beijing devoted mainly to jiaozi with fillings like shrimp, pork, venison, chicken, quail, fish, you name it! The ones you get here in the States are too thick, and only filled with greasy sausage—the Beijing dumplings are delicate, tasty and a real treat, whether steamed or fried golden!

 

YOU TIANR – This is a long, twisted fried dough stick, crispy, golden and best served hot from the oil. The Chinese don’t usually put sugar on it, but you can always request it. It is served with warm soy milk, and sometimes dipped in it. I admit that it was a little plain without the sugar, but most stalls had some under the counter for us spoiled Americans! This is a common breakfast food in Beijing, and sells for about 50 cents for a foot long one!

 

JIAN BING – There is nothing like this fragrant dish when you’re starved. The pancake batter is spread out thin, then an egg broken on top and spread out, then the whole thing flipped and spread with either a dark bean sauce or a hot sauce, followed by chopped green onions and cilantro. The last ingredient is a big flat square of some kind of delicately crispy fried noodles—then the whole thing is folded up into a quarter, wrapped in a paper napkin, then tucked into a plastic bag for you to eat. I always said that if any of these guys came to the States, they could easily sell these for $4-$6 each, but in Beijing, they went for 40 cents. They’re also quite filling and relatively healthy, made with little oil and lots of fresh veggies.

 

HONG SHU – Roasted sweet potatoes! When the weather begins to get cold and chill winds blow, the fragrance of the sweet potatoes roasting will draw you like nothing you’ve ever seen! It’s like those old cartoons where the starving guy is floating on a long curling whisp of cooking food smell, onward towards the real thing. These are generally quite cheap, 50 cents or so, roasted and soft and served with a napkin or piece of brown paper bag. No butter or sugar—that’s a Western taste—but when you’re freezing to death on a street corner waiting for a cab, and hungry as well, they can make a wonderfully delicious tummy-warmer!

 

CHA JIDAN (left) – Tea eggs are boiled in a brew of soy sauce, black tea and star anise for a few hours—they’re basically cracked about half way through, so when you peel them they have a webwork of dark tea color on the outside of the white. Really good quick snack with a cold Coke.

XIAN YA DAN (right) – Salted duck eggs—I’m still not sure how they make these, though I think it is a kind of pickling process where the eggs sit in super-salt-saturated water for a few days. This pickling “cooks” the egg and renders the white solid and a little meaty, as well as making the yolk, which exudes a kind of rich reddish-orange oil, a golden red .  The Chinese love these and generally eat only the yolk, which is very rich.  I was just the opposite, eating only maybe half the yolk, but loving the super salty whites! The shell is a light and lovely pale green. In the hutongs, or alleyway neighborhoods, the vendors would ride through the alley singing, “Xian ya dan! Cha ji dan!”, with duck eggs on one side of the bicycle cart, and the other side filled with tea eggs.

 

HUNTUN – Wonton soup is very popular for breakfast, especially served with bits of spinach or a kind of small dark green cabbage called ‘you cai’ (oil veggie). The filling was usually pork, and the dumplings quite delicate, lying in a pork or chicken broth.

 

ZHOU – This is a simple rice porridge, made thin and served hot with pickled vegetables usually or red-cooked pork or green onions. You could also get it plain and ask for a little sugar. There were whole restaurants, albeit little ones, that served ONLY different kinds of zhou. This is a hearty, filling, tummy-warming breakfast, and very good with a cup of warm soy milk. It’s one of best deals too, at 24 cents a bowl, a little more if you want meat or veggies on it.

 

XINJIANG NAAN – Xinjiang is China’s far west province, filled with mostly Muslim Chinese, and famous for their incredibly delicious golden flatbread. There are little midnight bakeries all around Beijing where you can see fathers and sons baking and loading the breads into the little display window in the front of the store. Sometimes they also sprinkle a little onion or garlic on top, and the result is heavenly! Also very cheap at around 50 cents per bread.

 

MATANG  - Another Xinjiang specialty, which is like a huge energy bar! These are made really large, like 24” X 36” and served off of a cart—they will cut you the size you want. They’re made of dried fruits (apricots, white raisins, date, etc.) and nuts like almond and hazelnuts, along with honey. These chunky goodies are rather chewy but oh so good, and give you energy on your long walks around the city.

 

YANGROU CHUANR – Also originally from Xinjiang, the Chinese eat these lamb kabobs like we eat hotdogs and hamburgers! Everywhere throughout the city you’ll see these guys in alleys or around the corners of buildings with their little grills. They sprinkle a kind of cumin-curry-??? spice on them, and roast the tasty bits over an open flame. Usually you can get them with a little chunk of lamb fat in the middle, which is a little crispy and like a kind of cracklin’—may sound weird, but it’s incredibly good! One stick goes for around 11-24 cents. In restaurants you’ll pay a little more, but still cheap—and the sticks are bigger! Nothing like chuanr for a quickie lunch—add a Yanjing beer and you’ve got a great meal!

Many years ago, before my children were born, I studied Wicca, the craft of the Wise Ones, and became a High Priestess. Wicca is a form of white magic, usually in the Celtic style, which was revived during the 19^th century and is one of the fastest growing religions in the world. It is composed of beautiful, old pagan rites which date back to the dawn of time, rites that changed and formalized over the centuries—it was the religion of the people before the Church came about—a pagan, grassroots, nature religion that is as old as mankind. Some people think that it proceeded only from studies of the Golden Dawn or the ceremonial religion founded by Gerald Gardner in 1954, but it is actually much, much older. While Gardner and others may have popularized the faith, and written down details of the rites, these were all based on studies of historic nature religions, specifically the ones found in the British Isles. Each country has it’s own version—the strega of Italy, the witches of France, the shamans of Siberia, the medicine man of Native Americans—all of these are forms of an ancient faith. Magic circles, casting spells, rituals for health or prosperity, handfastings and betrothals, masses for the dead, birth rites—these have existed since the beginning, with the forms changing as humanity developed and grew—they are common to each civilization.

 (Samain/Halloween altar)

The rites I followed were basically a Celtic form, since my family on my mother’s side is from the British Isles. I came to understand that the image of the Creator as God AND Goddess, masculine and feminine, yin and yang, that the religion recognized, was one that made sense to me. Whether you think of the Goddess as the Virgin Mary or Diana or Isis, she is essentially the same entity—the feminine face of God. I was quite comfortable practicing my Catholic faith alongside the Pagan one because I could see the wider picture of it all and it was plain to me that the faiths were connected, related in a deep way. The magic I practiced was White, pulling its power from the earth and sky, fire and water, and was used only to help and not harm. My children also participated in Circles, which were held during important times of the year, such as the Fall and Spring Equinoxes, and the Summer and Winter Solstices.

 

Wicca celebrates these changes in the season, as well as the Full Moon. Wicca has NOTHING at all to do with Satan—it is simply an expression of an ancient belief in the powers of nature, the elements, the seasons, and the worship of the Creator in both the masculine and feminine forms. The circles and spells are really no different than a prayer meeting or a church service, where concentrated energy or prayer is used to call down God’s power to assist his/her Children. Like anything created by humans, it has it’s darker side as well as the Light side—there are those who choose to follow that path and emphasize the dark energy that can be called up—BUT, there are many more who simply use Wicca and the Craft to follow the ancient ways of worship, and to add good to this world by it. It is up to each individual which way to follow, just like it is up to each Christian or Jew or Muslim to take what is fine and good in those religions and live by their precepts, rejecting the possibilities of the Dark Side. I have chosen the Path of Light.

 

Though it has been about 6 years or so since I practiced with any kind of regularity, I am still known among my close friends as a High Priestess. Recently my friend Danny called and wanted to introduce me to a couple who wanted to be handfasted. Handfasting is an old rite that can be found from the British Isles to Asia—it is a kind of marriage ceremony, or betrothal ritual, for a couple who wish to show their commitment to each other and be bound together as one. In Northern Europe and the British Isles this usually came with the time limit of “a year and a day”, which meant staying with each other for that period, after which the couple could make a more permanent commitment. In some cultures, the ritual was a regular wedding, such as in Asia and India. Betrothal and marriage ceremonies in many parts of the world include a part of the ritual where the bride and groom are tied together, usually their left hands, with a red cord. In Celtic countries this is called Handfasting. In the case of this particular couple, Brenda & Nathan, they wanted this to be the traditional “year and a day”, and have their large family wedding next fall on November 1^st. They have known each other for 15 years, and been together for over 2 years—this Halloween, they wanted to have a handfasting to announce their love and commitment. Halloween is a time of harvest, fruitfulness, as well as a special holiday for those in Wicca. They asked me to perform the ceremony. I wrote out the ritual for them, which they approved, and we held the handfasting at Nathan’s parent’s home, in their back yard. It was really moving and quite beautiful. The following photos are just some of what we took…

This is the ‘smudging’, a ritual where the guests and attendants of a ceremony have a smoking stick of herbs, usually sage, passed around and over them in order to dispel any negative energy. American Wiccans tend to use sage a lot because it is based in Native American culture-- though the use of incense and smudging can also be found in ceremonies all over Europe, Asia, Africa and South America as well.

Whenever a ritual is performed, anywhere in the world, there is a sacred space created—this can be a church, mosque, synagogue, or, in the case of ancient cultures, a circle. The circle is measured, then delineated in salt or chalk, stones, shells or paint—this one cast in sea salt, a universal symbol of protection. The bride and groom walked within, then I closed the circle. This created a special, protected and sacred space in which we would hold the handfasting.

Once in the circle, I used sea salt in water to create a kind of ‘holy water’, with an incantation I’d used for many years-“Salt and water by casting thee, no spell nor unknown purpose be, except in true accord with me, and as I will so mote it be.” You close your eyes, hold a hand over the water and salt, picture pure white Light pouring into the water until it glows, and chant the words. The liquid is then cast around the circle and on the altar and the couple to bless and protect them.

The presence of the Lord and Lady, Blessed Father and Mother are called into the circle to empower it—Brenda does not use any particular names for the deities except those. Some people may say Isis and Osiris, or some other pair whose name relates to their culture—she wanted to keep it simple. The Four Quarters are then called—these are the Spirits of the four directions--East, South, West and North-- and their accompanying Elementals—Air, Fire, Water and Earth. An athame, or short sword, is used to call them up (the handle did not reflect in the photo, but that’s what I am holding).

The rings are blessed and given, the individual Vows are spoken. This is a very sweet moment in the ceremony, and I almost started crying. It was very plain to all of us how much Brenda and Nathan loved each other, and their personal vows were really lovely.

At this point, the handfasting cord is held up and blessed—it is a red cord, 36 inches long, either 3, 6, or 9 pieces braided into one. This cord represents the binding of the two in marriage and some form of it is used in many cultures around the world—for instance, in Chinese ceremonies it is a red scarf with a large lotus shaped bow on top, in India it is a red cord as well. Red is the color of passion and love. It is not mean to be a symbol of anything restrictive or limiting, but rather a bond of flexibility and strength.

The new couple shares wine with each other and then a kiss. Brenda and Nathan also lit a special marriage candle,--you can see it flaming brightly in front of them.

After they are joined, the group then holds hands and draws from the earth, sky, water and air a stream of White Light energy,--this is sometimes called the ‘cone of Power’ or ‘cone of Light’—which is then pulled together by the Priestess, then sent towards the ritual’s  target (health, prosperity, love, etc.), or, in this case, toward’s the handfasted couple. It was very intense that night, and I could feel a low humming sensation as I closed my eyes and gathered in all their love and light. I could see, in my mind’s eye, that the energy had formed into a large sphere of White Light, so I continued to mold it until it got too big to handle, then projected it toward Brenda and Nathan—even the palms of my hands were red and burned slightly.

The energy is then grounded, pushed into Mother Earth for safe keeping. The Elementals and powers are thanked then dismissed, then the circle is opened.

Afterwards, we all went back to their house for cake and sandwiches. I was the caterer as well and made four trays of tea sandwiches : chicken salad, egg salad, cucumber with dill sauce, and Pineapple-cream cheese-walnut spread—all of them really delicious! My piece-de-resistance though, was the wonderful vanilla cream cheese poundcake which was their wedding cake! I have many many kinds of desserts in my life, but this was my very first wedding cake—I used vanilla cream frosting, and Brenda put a crystal on top with an angel in it—I think it turned out rather well!

* * * *

The ritual I used combined bits from here and there with my own writing and years of doing ceremonies. Brenda and Nathan loved the ritual and it made me happy to see them so pleased. If you would like a copy of the ritual for your own or a friend’s handfasting, please don’t hesitate to e-mail me. Blessed be!

Recently my friend MaryAnn and I were talking about new projects, and suggested that perhaps I should paint something related to Savannah, something historic. So, I chose the Gingerbread House, built in 1889, on Bull Street. I’ve always liked it because of the ‘gingerbread’ work on the front, and I can remember going there to Christmas parties a couple of times when the kids were younger. It is a two-story wood frame house, painted yellow and white, distinguished by a front porch and balcony with elaborate oval picture-frame brackets between turned posts and balustrades—it’s an example of "steamboat Gothic gingerbread" and is quite noticeable as you’re traveling through Savannah. Most artists paint the entire house, so I wanted to do something a little different. I wanted to paint it as what it was, a family’s home, with Mother on the front porch, neighbors saying ‘hello’, children around, and chose the year 1902 because I really like the clothes from that period. I researched the clothing too, and hair styles, and came up with the painting seen below. I wanted to portray an everyday scene, with the lovely mother, just arising after her embroidery, coming out to greet her handsome neighbor and his son. Her teen-age daughter giggles at the boy's big frog he's holding up, but the youngest child is, like many children, oblivious to company and wrapped up in feeding her dolly. It is early spring and the azaleas are blooming, the trees full and green, and the sun shining on the bright yellow of the house gives a cheery feeling.

You can find this painting @ http://www.angelilluminations.com/gingerbreadhouse.htm where the original painting, prints and card sets with the image in full color, are sold. Comments are welcome! Please tell me what you think!

On this weekend before Halloween, Raul and I were really struggling to find something interesting to wear, that we could afford AND that fit—leave it to Walmart to provide the answer! Party City was a mad house filled with desperate people, and Acme Costume literally had cars lined up around the block with one poor, beleaguered employee holding a baton to guide traffic in and out of the parking lot. Sooooooo, Saturday morning, last minute as usual, after having tried the previously mentioned places + Walgreens and Hancock Fabrics, we took a trip to the Land of Sam Walton, and hit Walmart. They were nearly entirely out of adult costumes—this only a week before the big day! However, Raul went in the morning to look, and after and hour or so, this kind, sweet, big-hearted guy came home with…a DEVIL costume! Seems Walmart had these t-shirts with themes on them that could be used as costumes, and I think he must have gotten the last Flames Cape available. He was also quite pleased with the curling ram horns, and contemptuously chucked the smaller horns (which came with the cape, I think) aside. After watching him preen evilly before the bedroom mirror, I was determined to find SOMEthing that would work for me, so I took off to Wally World to see what was available.

I looked up and down the aisles, passing by the XLarge women’s outfits (size 12—good Lord, when did size 12 become EXTRA LARGE??), and finally came upon some witches hats—but these were black plush and loaded with tons of little silver stars! Need I say more? The Inner Witch arose in my heart, and I knew I HAD to have one! So, that started my quest. What followed was a black cape (which I decorated with silver glitter images but didn’t dry in time for the party), a slinky black tank top (onto which I sewed two rows of jet beads), a pair of black and silver earrings, a lovely witchy necklace with rows of medallions and rhinestones, a black and silver bracelet (which, somehow, the clerk did not pick up off the counter, so I didn’t get it after all), and finally, a black jacket with a shawl collar which looked appropriate ($15). I wanted something silver and gaudy for my black heels, so I went to Michaels, determined to find a couple of silver roses—no luck, so I actually bought a kind of cheap silver snowflake ornament and popped it a part, then glued the pieces onto my shoes!

I also felt the jacket needed a little something, but since it was to be used for everyday clothing too, I just got a packet of little rhinestone crystals, stick on, and decorated the shawl collar with them. Add my black skirt and other assorted black and silver jewelry and Voila! you have a divinely witchy outfit, sexy, cheap, and satisfying! I decided to do a little something different with my makeup, and got out my old blue eyeshadow assortment and used the silvery frosty blue and white and lavender to add interest to the designs drawn with Avon’s Glimmersticks (Saturn Grey & Purple). I think it turned out well--

And so we drove off into the chilly night to Sobeida’s house in Pooler—she and her handsome husband Alvin were giving the party, and they were dressed as a couple, as usual (last year they made a hot pair of Roman soldiers), both of them just perfect—Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf! We loved it!

(Ain't she gorgeous?)

At the front door most of us gathered for a quick portrait of the guests who had gotten there first, then took off to the back patio for a rum & coke and a cigarette. She had the house and patio decorated really well, and Alvin made a cauldron of Sex on the Beach with fresh strawberries and raspberries! The tables were stuffed with goodies, and I made off for the nacho beef dip with blue corn chips—she also had these interesting looking apple slices cut in the size of a mouth, stuffed with cream cheese, with almond slices for teeth! Later our best buds turned up, Iris and Mike, dressed as a goth Fairy and Death!

Rosie and John came next, with Rosie also dressed as a witch, and John as the Devil’s Minion—since there were now TWO witches, we had to have our portrait made, of course, so the two evil bitches…ahh, I mean Witches, posed for this shot (with John sneaking up behind us)

For some reason, lots of “doctors” and “nurses” showed up as well, most of them Panamanian friends of Sobeida, so there were great jokes all night about  this crew, with their big “needles” and other accoutrement of the medical profession—lots of poses with them ‘treating’ the various characters ‘round the party.

We had plenty of Latin music all night long, lots of good food, and about every hour or so, we’d take trips to the goodies table to taste the dips and pepperoni and such because we all know what happens when you drink like we do and do not remember to “form a base for your stomach”! Alvin also had a Beer Funnel and we had fun with that, almost all of us trying to down a whole can, but none of us succeeding! Various groups of friends arrived all night—here are a couple more photos of other party-goers—

 as well as Patricia and her hubby--

We had a few little munchkins dressed as princesses or policemen—one thing I like about Latin parties is that they are not afraid to bring the kids, let them play, watch the adults have fun, and join in the party. When Iris got there I saw she had picked up a Goth Fairy drag from Walmart, which showed off her fine bosom, so, I requested the traditional Booby Shot since we both have great cleavages!

Near the end of the evening, all of us none the worse for alcohol and tobacco and too many salty/sweet/fattening goodies, Rose found someone’s mustache and beard and proceeded to model it! Of course, Iris had to take a turn as well, and posed with them, along with her bongos—I think it made a memorable photo! She then kissed her hubby Mike, who screwed up his face but bore it like a man! I tried them on next, and I think I looked rather debonair, like a 4^th Musketeer! And yes, Raul had to submit to a hairy kiss as well!

I am notorious in our group for carrying things around in my bosom, like tucking my cigarettes and light in one side under the bra strap, and maybe a powder and lipstick on the other side. Raul suggested we take a little video showing my taking out everything, then putting on my red lipstick—it turned out funny, but rather dark. So the next video was of me, Iris, Sobeida and Rosie, taking turns putting on that slut red lipstick one at a time, making it as sexy as possible! I will try to include that video here, later, if I can get the sound and images synchronized. All in all it was a GREAT party, and I really appreciate Sobeida inviting us! We went home early (for us) at 230am, took a half hour to clean off our make-up, and fell into bed, happy and exhausted. More later on this coming Saturday’s Halloween party and friend’s Handfasting at Danny’s house!

Monday was my mother’s 71st birthday, and she requested that her daughters and all the grandkids who could, come to The Tea Room in Savannah, to celebrate. I love this place, with it’s Art Deco designs, wonderful scent of exotic teas, the little sandwiches, the candlelit room, the various kinds of china and porcelain and silver spoons. It has a lovely, quiet and elegant atmosphere without any air of pretentiousness. The Tea Room is owned by a mother & daughter, and they have included a little gift shop up front as well. The menu is small but the food is all delicious—there is a wide variety of teas, however, to choose from (sorry, no coffee available, as my friend Mary Ann found out!).



This time around I chose Emperors Bride, a fine black tea with dried pineapple, pear and quince—really superb! Melantha chose my old favorite, White-tipped Earl Grey, which she loves from the many teas I held while she was growing up. My sister Mary (sitting at the end by me) chose Orange Spice, and the rest had iced Peach tea. There are three areas to sit in, but I chose the candlelit room because to me it is the loveliest. Fresh flowers always adorn the tables, the cream is served in little chintz pitchers (or in a little white cow pitcher if it’s only for two people), and the sugar is a sort of German rock candy, brown and white, which you must stir a great deal in very hot tea to get it to melt.

Two of the grandchildren, Annie & William, were working, and a third, Crystal, has moved to New York, so it was Lori (with the curly blonde hair), my son Merlin, my daughter Melantha, Mama, Celeste (Lori's other daughter, sitting by Mama) and my two sisters, Lori & Mary. Generally, I like to keep my visits to the Tearoom to no more than 3 at the table, but it was my mother’s birthday and she wanted all of us there. Melantha looked so lovely in her lace blouse and black lace skirt—she never likes her photo taken, but I just had to get one or two.

Merlin spent much of the time drawing and writing out two birthday cards—one for Mama, and one for Mary, who’s birthday was Friday--they were illustrated in his own unique style, and the inside messages were heartwarming, sincere--both of them loved their cards! I was treating Mama to tea for her gift, and to Mary I gave a framed and matted print of my Chinese Family painting (http://www.angelilluminations.com/chinesefamily.htm) –the frame and mat in black looked really beautiful, and I used my Chinese name stamp with red ink to sign it—Mary loves Chinese art. Unfortunately she had to leave a little early, just as the dessert was brought out, but I saved her goodies for Raul, which he thoroughly enjoyed later that evening!

The food was wonderful, as always—for $25 you get the full afternoon tea: First course of various tea sandwiches and delicious baked scones with Devonshire cream & strawberry jam, then comes the savory dish (usually a delicate custardy quiche), then a fruit sorbet  to clear the palate (this time it was raspberry, but my favorite was the champagne & saffon), and the final dish is one of various sweets—shortbread, cakes, tiny custard puff, all topped with a fresh, edible flower. All of this comes with your choice of tea—each person gets their own brown teapot, covered in a brown cozy to keep it nice and hot. This may not sound like a lot of food, but, believe me, you’re quite full and satisfied after such a tea! I highly recommend this TeaRoom to anyone—you can find their website at http://www.savannahtearoom.com/ --reservations are required for the Afternoon, Full Afternoon and Royal teas, which begin at 230pm. They also have wonderful Lunch teas. It has become a family favorite for birthdays, Mothers Day and lunch! May you enjoy your own special day at The Tea Room, with your own special people--happy Tea Time!

Friday Night Raul & I went to A.T. Hun’s 20 Artist Gallery Show (sorry, no pics of artwork allowed by management), where the theme was favorite movies, and they requested people come in costume for the party. The gallery is in Savannah’s historic City Market area, and so I wanted a costume that would blend well with that district. Looking through the closet produced nothing much, but with a vaguely Victorian blouse, real cameo pin and a long green print skirt I figured I could add a couple of extras and make it a costume. I made a white apron with 4 pleats near the bottom and a white mob cap decorated with a green ribbon—add my white lace shawl and basket with a cloth and you have…um…well,… an Irish wife? of a Peruvian Pirate?

Well, that was what we did. Raul got his pirate things out from last year and there ya go! The show started at 7pm, and we managed to actually find a parking space (for an outrageous $10) right around the corner. Not many people were there at that point, and only a couple of actual costumes—Christine, who works there, dressed as a geisha, and there was a sort of Coco Chanel chick but that was about it!

The artwork was interesting to look at, especially the icons, and I enjoyed seeing the various styles of the artists presented, but nothing bowled me over—excepting the primitive art that was selling for $850 a pop for a 16” X 20” canvas and probably took all of an hour to paint—it still offends my sensibilities to see what people change for their work sometimes!

We hung around for snacks and wine, drifting through the gallery packed floor to ceiling with artwork of all varieties and skill levels, had a smoke outside and petted the horses at the carriage stands, then decided to head off and find a bar where you could have a cigarette and a beer (at the same time, in the same room). It was actually misting all night and rather cold, so after walking around a while and discovering that City Market—where I haven’t been in years, really—had replaced nearly all the bars with restaurants and shops, we found a little place down the street called The Rail Bar, which is Irish-themed, tiny and amiably loud. We settled down to a couple of Guinness Stouts, a bowl of peanuts and a cigarette, amidst music from The Pogues. Later, these 3 guys came in carrying their party mood with them, and we laughed when one of them, named Jason, asked to wear my mob cap! I include a photo of him below, with Raul.

They were a fun crew, inclined to laughter, old friends for many years—a Leo (Eric), Sagittarius (Jason) and their gay friend Brad (Scorpio). They played some good music on the jukebox, mostly the Doors, and we chatted with them until 10pm or so, when we all decided to head our separate ways. It was a fun night in it’s way, though rather cold, but I’m glad we decided to go out, since we hadn’t really been downtown in months it seems. And I loved Raul’s pirate make-up—made him look like one of those old silent movie bad-guys!

This is an addition to the previous post on foreign adoptions, where I mentioned the book, "China Ghosts" by the journalist Jeff Gammage. One of the themes of the entry was how some parents of Chinese adopted children, or really, children from any other culture, would seek to exclude mention or development of that native culture to those children. I was truly heartened to read this book, a tender, tense and memorable book on the experience of one family's adoption of a little girl from China, and their processing of her past, present and future. Why? Because it seemed to me that Mr. Gammage was more than willing to accept their daughter's origin and past, and even kept her Chinese name, Jin Yu (Golden Jade), as well as the name of their second Chinese adopted daughter. He even made a major effort to find out more than the extant, tiny offering of data on her birth parents, and finally succeeded in obtaining the note her mother or father wrote and tucked into her clothes when they abandoned her. His daughter JinYu is taken to Buddhist temple in their city of Philadelphia, and to traditional Lion Dancing lessons in Chinatown. Hopefully, he will also have her take Mandarin Chinese lessons (or Cantonese, as the case may be) when she gets a little older. The child was 2 years old when she left the orphanage in China, yet continued to speak Chinese after she arrived, even if it was a kind of baby babbling that she comforted herself with before she fell asleep. It struck me that I would have, being a China lover myself and mildly proficient in the language, recorded the child's babblings to analyze later--it might have provided a clue to her beginnings. Be that as it may, though, I am happy to see that her American father has not cut her off from her heritage, and indeed realizes that she may, as she gets older, want to study her native country in more depth--he has prepared himself for that, and I congratulate his open-mindedness. I wish them all the best, and encourage him to find more ways to introduce his 2 daughters to their native land and culture.  I also highly recommend the book, which is moving, well-written and a fascinating, albeit subjective, account of his family's experiences.

 

Wandering through my old photos of my stay in Beijing, China, I came across one of me and my friend Karin (German/Austrian) at a favorite restaurant, 1001 Nights. One of my fondest memories there, besides their incredible food and atmosphere, was smoking the hookah, also called a nargila, during dinner. I was not really smoking at the time, except socially (though, unfortunately I took it up regularly when I got back to the States), but the hookah was not just any ole way to get a tobacco high—and yes, that was all I smoked in it! The hookahs in the restaurant were at least a yard high or more, usually made of glass with brass fittings, and a long tubing which would accommodate you while dining and drinking. On the top of it was a bowl where the fruit-flavored tobacco went—this moist tobacco, mixed with dried apple or peach, strawberry or orange is called ‘shisha’, and is incredibly fragrant. It is packed tightly into the cups, which hold maybe ½ cup in volume, over which is wrapped a piece of aluminum foil that is pierced with holes. A waiter would come around with burning red wood coals and drop them on top of the foil—you would then pull the smoke through the hookah, where it cooled down in the water of the body central, then came up to the tubing. It seemed an elegant way to smoke, and one which greatly enhanced the atmosphere and food of that wonderful restaurant. One serving usually lasted a couple of hours at least, sometimes longer and cost around $4, which was not bad, in my opinion. I felt exotic and languid, worldly and romantic, smoking the hookah, dining on hummus and roasted lamb, watching the belly dancers whirl, and getting pleasantly sloshed on tall, colorful alcoholic drinks embellished with decoratively cut fresh fruits and a paper parasol (yes, my nose and cheeks are rather cherry red, but that'll happen when you drink a lot of gin). 

Now, though I smoke Pall Malls regularly, it's just not the same--I have not yet found a hookah bar in town, and I so consequently miss that experience. I would never smoke regular tobacco in my home, it's much too smelly—my front porch has a couple of chairs and a bizarrely painted wooden tray table to accommodate me and my guests who indulge—and yet I think that hookah smoke may prove rather different, more fruity, not so stale and fetid as regular smoke. It is a little dream of mine to have my own water pipe, made in India perhaps, and a supply of sensuous shisha to smoke. I even included it in one of my paintings, a detail of which is shown below, called “Hookah Dreams”. which you can find @ http://www.angelilluminations.com/newworks.htm , the original, as well as prints and cards. Ah, those were the days…

I have been reading a book called “China Ghosts” about an American couple who adopt a little 2 year old Chinese girl, Jin Yu (Golden Jade) and their experiences and feelings. It makes me think of another couple, Irish descended, who adopted a little boy from China a couple of years ago—they were parents of two children who attended the school where I worked here in the States. Both mom and dad were blonde, pink-cheeked, blue-eyed and very American. They gave the boy, who was also about 2 years old, the name of John, after the mom’s father. I remember asking them if they were going to teach him about his home country, have him take Mandarin Chinese lessons later, or learn about his culture. As good-hearted as they were, they looked at me as if I had said a terrible thing. NO, of course not! He would learn English, have an English name and grow up fully American. And I remember how sad that made me feel. I was happy, of course, that this child who had been abandoned by his birth parents, who languished in an orphanage, would now grow up well-fed, loved and cared for….and yet, I felt sad because a vital part of his life, of his heritage, would be just wiped out. This couple truly wanted a good life for their child, but, even though they had gone all the way to China for his adoption, something in them seemed to despise the country of his birth. They talked of the bad food, the dirt, the smells, the harshness of life they saw there, and there was something arrogant in the assumption that American culture was far superior—to them it was an obvious fact and they resented that I had asked them if they would inform him in later years, of his homeland. I could see clearly that possessive spirit that would dominate the child’s life, and I was apprehensive of it’s effect on him.

 

In my own heart, I feel that to cut an adopted child off from his heritage is a deep error in judgement. Of course the child should be involved in all things Western, in the life of his adopted parents—by all means he should experience Christmas & Easter, McDonalds and YouTube, Levi jeans and Bart Simpson—sure, why not? But I think it best to remember that that child is a gift from another land, another culture. He will look different than his classmates, his blonde and blue-eyed siblings—and those different features will follow him always. He can walk and talk and eat and laugh just as an American child would, and yet there is that external sign of his difference. This is not a bad thing. It adds an exciting aspect to his life that the average American kid does not have.  Most kids here disdain to learn the language of another land, and grow up pretty ignorant of the culture and history of any other country but their own—why constrain the adopted child to live within such limitations? He knows you love him, you adopted him and saved him from a possibly dire fate—why be scared or contemptuous of showing him what his own people are like? Is it arrogance or contempt or fear that compels some adoptive parents to try and erase the genetic and historical background of these children? Why not enlarge their own knowledge and graciously accept into their lives the knowledge of a country not their own. The English name may cover him, the taste in food and music and entertainment may inform him and shape him to the American parents’ way of life…but I really do feel that discouraging his learning about his native land is a terrible mistake. In the case of the little Chinese boy, John, he has 5000 years of genetic and cultural history in his blood—he is connected to China in ways the adoptive parents probably cannot imagine. It would be cruel to disparage the country of his origin, and in the end, would it not harm him in some deeply vital way, make him feel less of a person to know his adoptive parents look down on, or worse, completely ignore his origins? Yes, it would take some time and trouble to celebrate his native holidays, to take him to language lessons, or places where he can meet others of his heritage—but is that not part of the parental responsibility? What would these parents feel if that child, in later years, made the decision to seek out his country of origin, to learn it’s history, and perhaps to even return there to discover his roots---for he DOES have roots there—to deny that is to deny a major part of who he is.

 

We Americans, for all our good points, can often be quite lazy in learning about other cultures and languages. I used to listen to parents whining about how hard it was for their kids to learn Spanish in school, how they complained that it was too difficult, too confusing, that it was basically a useless skill—and I felt a kind of despair at their ignorance and impatience. I saw the lesson plans that the Spanish teacher, a kind lady who was raised in Mexico, had carefully drawn up—and they were easy lessons, not at all challenging. It amazed me how vicious some of the parents could be when addressing her, insisting that THEIR child didn’t need a second language. I saw how they even resented it when she tried to make the class fun and interesting by teaching the students about holidays in Mexico, how the Mexicans celebrated Christmas—she even ordered a special cake from California so they could have a taste. And yet this dear lady was always being called and even cursed out by the parents. I could see how that American adoptive couple would be in later years too, insisting that the only reality was the American one, and that their child had no need to learn about China. It made my heart ache. In restricting their adopted child to their own culture and language, they could not seem to see, or even care, that they were depriving him of something unique and special—a chance to learn and grow and see with wider-opened eyes the world around him.

 

I hope, in the future, when people here adopt those precious children from China or Russia or Guatemala or Korea, that they will do so with an open-mind and a resolve to do the best by that child that can be done. Yes, show them your culture, feed them your food, love them and care for them—but in caring, let them know something of their native culture as well—don’t cut them off from it, but encourage them to learn more. If you truly love them, let them have this extra gift in their life—don’t be afraid that they will reject you, reject America, but know that the added dimension of knowledge will truly enrich their lives.

I am a big fan of Chinese movies, and I don’t mean the kungfu sagas, but the ones that purport to show the lives of real Chinese people. The three films I review here are some of my favorites, all by the director Zhang Yimou ( pronounced ‘Jahng Ee-moh’). Sometimes he creates films of lyrical beauty, delicate emotional subtleties and real human emotion—and then he’ll pull a couple of gaudy, action-filled, empty beauties out to rake in the dough and cause a furor among his fans. Now, there were parts of ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’ that I liked, mainly the parts with Michele Yeoh and  Chow Yun Fat—I was never that impressed with Zhang ZiYi and her part of the story just didn’t interest me. The effects in that movie were very good, eye-catching but not enough to overwhelm the story. For me, ‘Hero’ and ‘House of Flying Daggers’ were faintly ridiculous, full of meaningless action and a real lack of any kind of believable story-line—showy, loud, over-produced messes meant to pull in the money at the box office. I like to think he does these kinds of films so that he can get the funds to produce the really meaningful pieces like the following three—

NOT ONE LESS (1999)

This movie is a masterfully understated little jewel—all the actors are NON-actors, just ordinary village people who fit into their roles like a glove. The story is fairly simple—a poor student needs to earn money for her family, and is given the job of a substitute teacher (though she is only about 5 years older than her students) while the main teacher is away. The catch is, she must keep all her students in the class, not letting anyone get away, slack off or refuse to attend for the entire month Teacher is gone—if she lets just one out of her sight, she will not get paid. At first she is pretty slack herself, basically writing a lesson out on the board, then going outside to sit while expecting the students to do the lesson by themselves. Gradually she learns this is NOT the way to teach. One troublesome boy sneaks off to the city to earn money for his sick mother, then the trouble begins. The young Substitute must make enough cash to take a bus into the city to find him. Her persistence, her journey, how the boy is found, is the heart of the story. It is a moving tale of desperation, humorous at times, and also a sad picture of the slim supplies available to country teachers in China—a big moment comes when the children almost destroy a box of chalk, a rare commodity in school. Watching the young, inexperienced girl go from boredom to involvement, both emotional and intellectual, with her students is enlightening and enjoyable. Her journey into the city, her sheer persistence of will combined with her terrible innocence of how the city really works is a small, amazing personal epic. I really enjoyed this little work of Zhang Yimou and highly recommend it to anyone.

TO LIVE (2003)

This gem of a movie is filled to the brim with love, passion, death, sadness, joy, hard times and family drama. It is like a cup overflowing, and there is more than one moment where you will need your handkerchief ready. The space of time covered is from the late 1940s and the beginning of the true Communist era, through the next 25 or so years of the Cultural Revolution’s upheaval. One family, once rich and privileged, then brought low through the son’s passion for gambling, is shown from their fall into poverty, struggle with war-time separation, sick children, and eventually their desperately trying to mold themselves according to the stringent standards of the Cultural Revolution. Gong Li is a wonder here, moving from her place as a lovely, rich, but sad, young wife through ragged poverty and sick middle-age. She is intensely loyal to her husband, who means well, after his reformation, but always seems to screw things up worse through his bumbling. You will love their bright-eyed children, who find happiness in the little joys of life and maintain a sense of humor throughout. Their story is one of sadness and loss though, and as you watch it unfolding you will become aware of how much pain and suffering in their life is caused by exactly the same Party that proposes to be their guardians. So much insanity during the Cultural Revolution, so much pain brought by that great Chairman whom the government promoted as their Father & Mother, their Sun, their Emperor, who could do no wrong. His Red religion brought havoc to his country and this story is shown through the lives of this simple family. It is riveting, deeply saddening, and yet hopeful too, because they find a way to seek Joy, no matter what happens to them. This is at once an epic film and a personal one—both levels show clearly, yet delicately intertwined. The acting is top-notch, the production values beautiful and the story moving. Highly recommended.

RIDING ALONE FOR A THOUSAND MILES (2007)

After two gaudy blockbusters, Zhang Yimou produced this lovely, incredible film, with it’s delicate family relationships, fine acting, quiet moments and gorgeous scenery. Filmed in Chinese southernmost Yunnan province, the film looks as if it has found Shangra-La—the scenery reaches out to you, invites you to move in and stay a while. The amazing thing about this movie and it’s vivid characterizations is that there are only two professional actors in it—Ken Takakura, one of Japan’s finest older male actors, and Shinobu Terajima, a lovely Japanese actress and long time national favorite. All the other cast members were drawn from the local villages, and each one fits their part in a natural and simple way that rings a bell in the heart, especially the little boy. I was a little confused at first, expecting a Chinese movie and seeing Japanese actors, but the story begins in Japan, then moves on to the mainland in Yunnan. A sad old man reflects on the relationship with his estranged son, later learning that the young man is dying of cancer, and then tries to reconcile them by bringing him something he believes the son would want—a film of a certain opera star singing a heroic & ancient song. The father goes through an immense and complex search to find and film this man, who is now in prison, and in moving through these steps, he learns a lot about himself. The opera singer has an illegitimate son whom he has never seen, and mourning the impossibility of seeing him now that he is in prison, the old man takes pity on him, and goes to fetch the boy. He is firm and relentless, though in a gentle way, in trying to attain this gift for his own son who is dying. His journey is one of soul-searching, humility, sadness and frustration, and yet it is all fascinating in a quiet and human way. I was never bored, but was always one step ahead, trying to see what the outcome would be. This is a subtle film, beautiful, meaningful and gorgeous to watch. It made me want to travel to that magical looking landscape and see it for myself. It also endeared itself to my heart, though I am no particular fan of Japanese films, because of the way the story of the sons and fathers intertwined. Really special, and not to be missed!

When I was teaching English in Beijing I often liked to teach the children fun songs in English and give them an illustration to help them remember the words. I found this little ditty online and made up my own tune and variations. The illustration below is one I gave copies of to my students, who just loved it! The exclamations are done loud and dramatically, and the word caterpillar is drawn out into 4 long syllables, just for fun.

 

Below is my variation of the song…

 Little Arabella Miller
Had a fuzzy cat-er-pil-lar
(Tickle palm with two fingers)
First it crawled up on her mother ( “Oh!”)
(Walk fingers up left arm)
Then upon her baby brother (“Wahhhh!”)
(Walk fingers up right knee)
Then it crawled on Father’s head (“Hey!”)
(Walk fingers up on your head)
Then upon her  Sister’s bed (“EEEEeeek!”)
(Walk fingers beside your leg)
They said, "Arabella Miller!
Get rid of that  cat-er-pil-lar!"
(one hand on hip, the other hand with shaking finger at the other person)
Little Arabella Miller
Sad about her cat-er-pil-lar
(make a long face)
Put him on the windowsill
With a little sigh
(hunch shoulders and sigh)
But early in the Springtime,
He became a Butterfly!
(cross hands and join thumbs, flap fingers to make a butterfly)