What can a year do?

Changing

Why is this necessary? This pruning of personality.
This shifting of sensibilities how time teaches
me to be. It’s rough at first, a sudden jolt of self-
justice, let me make you right. Watch as those
surrounding elements force you to adapt and adopt
new fashions for living. I can already feel it as this
vessel chases the late evening, as my heart pounds
for the unexpected and yet I am expecting nothing
less than to become new. Something is changing,
and it could be me, I hope it’s me; and I keep
seeing myself as being something else, someone
greater. I know you feel me, because you want to be
something better than you are. It looks like things
are changing; and I’m just hoping to change with it,
Darwinism. I must deliberate with my schisms,
the compilation of my isms and ities and re-stitch
my tapestry of identity. This is nothing but change
in motion, it fluctuates from a calm creeping to chaotic
commotion like a tropical breeze converted to a gust.
You can if you must, fight against that personal drifting
That character sifting, a foe that is rarely bested. You
will surrender, to better or worsen, rendering your person
To philosophical motion. It’s rough at first, it’s not paved
Yet, not until you see purpose, reason for such moments.
It’s all a lesson every second we share with this cage,
It’s just my spirit trying to teach my body and intellect
Righteous intentions, despite the external interruption
Those same natural impressions that gives necessity to
Changing; and my goodness is challenged to be unconquered,
but I am wounded; and it gets harder by the day, by the step,
by the thought. Changing, a chastisement of what I am.
I know it’s coming as Cooke sings the blues, I’m just
hoping it will make this monster marvelous.
Aug 9, 2007

This is the first poem I have written while in HK. I actually started it on the airplane ("as this vessel chases the late evening") To be honest, writing has been very difficult lately. My heart hasn't been tugged on in the right way for something to bolster out. In fact, the poem above is actually bits and pieces of a poem I started about a year ago. The picture above is just one of my nights staring at my book for an hour or two, just to write six words. Poetry is like that sometimes, like a good first kiss, you should never force it.

A year is a long time and I keep wondering how will I be different, and what will it feel like to come home from this. What if home is different? I remember returning from 3 weeks in Mozambique in 2005; and I was frustrated, because I had been moved, but everything I came back to was still the same. A year is a different story or a different bowl of rice (hahaha). I will change, I know this. But, home is a mystery; and I can't help to wonder if it will be different as well.

In the meantime, I am soaking in the Eastern sun, and all of the beauty that is prevalent here; be it the people (even the ones that stare at me for a second or two, who invited the Negro) the landscape, or city lights. Now don't get me wrong, I am still infatuated with Africa. I would sacrifice my first born to Baal to go back to Africa (It's a joke, hahahaha, I only sacrifice helpless children to Jesus). WATCH OUT! here comes some pictures.

Okay, they aren't great pictures, but they are informative. The first is the door into my building where I take three elevators to my room, because the building is in a cascading pattern. If you look to the right of the door you can see a machine where I wave my ID card to open the door. No, I don't swipe it just wave it like magic. In fact, I don't even have to remove it from my wallet, just wave my wallet in front of the sensor. I know what you are thinking Dana Bekurs, "why can't BSC have that." I have a small closet for all of my clothing. My mother is probably saying, "Ben you took alot of clothes, where did you put it all." Momma, you know I manage wherever I go. I am very comfortable in my can. Here are some more campus pictures, both near the bus stop.

So, I have had a week of Cantonese classes, and I am sure you all are wondering how it is going. Well, you should all go to your ovens right now and turn them on to the highest temperature. Let it preheat all the way, then grab a rag and a bucket of soapy water. Now, try cleaning your oven. No, don't turn it off. Actually, it isn't that bad. I am learning little by little I just need to practice. I received my Chinese name the other day, I think it was (Ma4 jing1 Min4). The numbers represent the tone, which is vital. I will probably get an e-mail tomorrow about how I just called myself something horrible. This is just a sample, I will give you more Cantonese lessons during the coming weeks.

Let us leave this boring technical stuff and get to the interesting fun stuff. Last Thursday, while many of you were just waking up, I was at a Gwen Stefani concert. Yes, that's right I went to a Gwen Stefani concert. "Ben, what are you doing at a Gwen Stefani concert?" I am a Renaissance man, I have a "No Doubt" CD. I didn't go alone. My good friends went with me; actually, I went with them, just following the crowd. Needless to say, I had a blast, and she was such a great performer.

Yesterday, we were given a tour of the New Territories, which is the area where I am located. It is ironic that it is called the New Territories since it was one of the first places to be settled in.

Our guides were Francis (your left) and K.Y. (your right).

My eyes aren't close, they are just barely open. This wonderful looking lady is Man Ni. She is the person that we bombard with a million questions daily, and she always comes back with an answer. I usually have a mother everywhere I go (I am thinking about you Madre Betty down in Mozambique; you too Delinda in Cambine), and I've got dozens back in the states. In Hong Kong, Man Ni is my mother. she has really been exceptional at helping us with all of our petty needs and such. I see her most mornings when I am having my coffee and Ham/Egg bun. We are very blessed to be surrounded by so many individuals who offer us assistant with almost anything. I wasn't listening very hard the other day, so I may not be able to explain any of the pictures that follow.

I call this a Chinese pavilion. We see them all the time, I don't think that there is any thing particular special about them, but if there is I will let you know.

The first picture below is actually us looking into China at the city of Shenzhen. (Kate, my Friend, I can almost see you.) The picture right after that is a close up of the border fence and of an abandon house that was just across the border. Abandon, suurrrre it is. Big brother is watching.

The structure below is one that I have seen several times. There is actually one on campus, and I first thought that it was a shrine of some sort. Well, my assumption was somewhat true, but actually they are graves. It is not pictured, but to the right there is another smaller structure where the bones of a person would be placed. I think you have to be important in order to have such a burial.

Now, look at this colorful chap. Each temple entrance has a guard on each door for protection.

Okay, last photo. What was most interesting to me was that most of these historically rich places were directly in the mist of people's living space. We have not been exposed to overcrowded tourist areas, but real intimate history. It felt a little intrusive that I was trying to take pictures, while passing the front door of someones flat (Memories of the Chicuque Hospital). I may see an open door and peek inside only to realize that I am looking into someones kitchen; and they are standing there looking right back at me (awkward moments).

Yes, good times are still rolling, and I am still waiting on the school year to begin. I am very anxious to get involved in the campus life as well as tutoring in English. The faces of many of you have been floating in my mind, and I wish you all were here to share in this with me. Until next posting, be extravagant, and nothing less. And, if you must, change for the better.