This Man Is An Island: Sort Of, Not Really.

Do you remember those precious moments in your life when you stayed at the center of every ones attention, and it seemed that the purpose of others was based solely on your reality, your life. Yes, that was childhood, although some stay in that stage for decades until they are suddenly surprised that they are alone, and nothing but loveless, speechless air surrounds them. If you know someone stuck in such a rut, send them abroad. Studying abroad or simply leaving home for a good while teaches you two things: first, it teaches you how important you are in the lives of others, and secondly, it proves to your ego that your friends and family don't vanish out of existence the moment you leave home, like High School students that forget that their teachers actually don't sleep in their classrooms waiting anxiously for the next school day. Now, I never considered myself the peg that held anything together; but I must admit it is very strange watching my family and friends continue their lives without me. I imagine it is similar to what the B-Ball coach with the short temper feels when he is forced to go watch the rest of the game from the locker room.

This feeling is greatly invoked through pictures on Facebook and blogsites, and e-mails have there place as well. I feel like an island, left to drift out in the pacific, while the rest of you look on, concerned yet joyful. Well, that's my philosophical rambling for this blog. I know you're feelin the Kango, right?



Now, I've been active in several ways since we last spoke. I participated in a Youth Summit that was responsible for drafting a proposal that outlined the necessary steps needed in order to achieve Universal Suffrage in Hong Kong. Right now mainland China appoints the Chief Executive to Hong Kong. To be honest, I found this issue very difficult for several reasons. The HK people are just asking for what was promised, which was full governance of themselves until they reemerge back into China completely. My first issue is that the British didn't start promoting Democracy in the region until the 80s, remember the British controlled HK for 156 years. How fitting that they began such movements about a decade before returning HK back to China. Does anyone see the connection? Let me help you. HK is money, and if I want to keep my business interest intact, then I need to find away to keep HK separate from China, even though I can no longer be in control over HK. Oh, yeah, democracy, why didn't I think of that a century ago! Sounds a little like Lincoln and the Emancipation right. You can wikipedia HK history if you would like. Anyway, I didn't do much talking out fear that I would be blacked listed by the Chinese government as a western troublemaker. I kept my mouth shut, stop being surprised, it happens sometimes.
The Conference was held at Hong Kong Baptist University, and we all stayed at the University Hostel down the street. In the lobby, there is a plague that commemorates HKBU's relationship with several US colleges and universities. Guess whose school was listed?

LOOK! LOOK! LOOK! IT'S MY SCHOOL. But, it doesn't stop there, my brother's undergraduate Alma mater, and the place where my mother received her master's is listed as well (Samford University). I was a little freaked out about the plague.

The photo above is of me and my colleagues wrapped around Dr Glenn Shive, who is responsible for raising the money for our program. Without him, I would not be in HK.

Moving on to more festive things, Oct 1 was National Day in HK. My friend Shanita and I decided to step out and go see the fireworks on HK Island.

Sad enough, even though the pictures show alot of people, we didn't get to watch the fireworks from a good spot. We sat on the street with all the locals awaiting 9:15pm, and suddenly we hear noises but don't see anything. Then everyone started rushing down the street, because somehow hundreds of people had placed themselves in front of a big building that was blocking the firework's show. Once we made it down the street a little bit, we could only see about a third of the show, and the building was blocking the rest. All in all, it was a great time.

I knew that I would learn alot about culture, particularly Chinese culture, but I didn't expect the diverse group of colleagues that I share this experience with. My friend Sarah took me to a authentic Korean restaurant where I dined on delicious Korean cuisine. Yes, that circle in the table is a grill, where we cooked the beef and pork that we ordered. Apparently, Koreans eat alot, because we only ordered two meet dishes and a rice dish, and got like ten other items that just come with the meal like Quincy's rolls. Yeah, I know I took you back with the Quincy reference.

Okay, after dinner we headed back to the train station (KCR), and stumbled on an interesting sight. IT'S WOODY!!!!!! I don't know why, but it is there.

This week was a week of beginnings. I started my two tutorial sessions. One focuses on reading aloud skills and reading comprehension, and the other is my very own concocted from scratch creative writing tutorial. In the reading aloud sessions, I have four students, and I had them read the poem Invictus (for all my Frat Brothers), and a passage from a random Novel. While I was waiting on my class, one student came in early, and we had a little chat. She asked where I was from, and I smiled and asked her where she thought I was from. She smiles and reluctantly says, Africa. I begin to laugh and say, "well not exactly."

As for my Creative writing Tutorial, my first session was great. We discussed reasons for writing, why I write. We spent time trying to use our senses and put those sensations on paper, among other things.

Below, these students are trying to put one of my poems back into order. I will keep you posted on my teaching career. I would like to be more detailed, but I am in my office at 9pm at night, tired of looking at this computer scream.

Life has picked up a bit, and work has really started now. Next week, I begin working with the Primary school, doing Drama club and a Nature club. Yeah, don't know how that happened. Anyway, I miss you all. Big Thanks to Pat Cole who sent me a copy of "Southern" magazine, and to my mother who sent me clippings from the Bham news about BSC's first football game. The world can't get any brighter for me, but I said that in London and Mozambique, and even in college. I know so little about God's mercy and hand on my life. Until I blog again. Be whatever you are suppose to be.

"Can't" Ain't Nothin But A Word

Believe it or not, I have had the word "can't" thrown at me several times throughout my life. "Ben, you can't say that," "Ben, you can't do that," "Ben, you can't help them," just a few phrases for you to ponder. Of course, sometimes it was necessary. Even I would tell myself that I couldn't do something, such as travel, succeed a certain things, or be influential. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I've done those things, so much for "can't." One of the worst things you can do to a human being is limit their potential by saying that they "can't." You size them up and make a judgment about their capabilities, and tell them that they can't do this or that without letting them try, simply because you don't believe in them. My potential is endless, because God is endless, and I look forward to the "can'ts" of the future. Recently, before I came to HK, there was another can't hovering over my head. A couple of people told me that I wouldn't be able to find someone to cut my hair. Well, "can't" ain't nothin but a word, because I found a brotha. Enjoy the photos.







The brotha with the clippers is Jolt, a refugee from Togo. My hair is being cut in his Flat's kitchen where he stays with three of his cousins. As I told you a couple of blogs ago, I met Jolt at the Vine Centre where I attend church. After the service, I quickly ran up to some of the Africans and began asking if anyone knew where I could get my haircut. A cat named Patrick introduced me to Jolt. Now, when he asked me how I wanted it cut, I said cut it low; but I forgot that low to him might be alot different than low to my barber at home, which it was. He first cut a little of the top, then alot off the side, and handed me the mirror to get my approval. When I looked in the mirror, I almost panicked. I don't know if you can tell from the picture, but I am nearly balled, but it was all good. My colleagues are use to seeing hair on my head so a couple of them was shocked at how short it was.

We did a little small talk, but their English wasn't that good so I did most of the talking. One of the brothas said that he knew a couple of friends from Togo that were studying in Gadsden, Alabama (small world). We really didn't discuss much, but just being around Black folk was very comforting to me. Of course, Mozambique flashed in my mind from time to time. Being around my race is very important to me. Even though I don't actually get this at home, they usually understand me better than others on the outside. But, why is that? I don't have much if any cultural commonalities with an African from Togo. Why does it matter? Because, the one thing we do have in common is how others look at us. They know like I know, how it feels to be in this skin, this complexion and walk down the street. Now, while I have commonality with Asian-Americans, Latino-Americans, American Indians, and Gays; because I know how it feels to be outnumbered, misunderstood, how it feels to be a minority; I dare not speak for these groups, because we may understand how it feels to be culturally different, but perhaps we have no clue how it feels to be each other. I can't adequately articulate their plight. After the haircut, Jolt walked me back to the subway station where I tried to pay him for his service, but he assertively rejected my offer saying that I was his brother, and there was no need for payment. I LOVE BEING BLACK.

Thursday was another evening of rubbing shoulders with important people. All of the Fulbrighters in Hong Kong were invited to have dinner with the US consulate. So, we all threw on our best, and looked forward to an evening of good food and great conversation. While I am on the subject of food, I actually got to try some Chitlins HK style at a restaurant here. Now, I don't like chitlins at home, but I must admit that here they were good. Anyway, the picture below is my friend Shanita and I on the bus on our way to have dinner.

This is my boy Ramon, who lives right next to me.

This my good friend Sarah.

And, this is Elvis, who all this time I thought was White, but actually is Chinese. I did get a little culture in the other day. I went to the museum with Ben Miller from BSC, who is here studying at the HK Baptist University until December. So, for all those who wanted to see me either naked or dead, here you go.

It was a wonderful exhibit from Great Britain. It was an assortment of artifacts from around the world. I even got to see a mummy.

Look, two hands, and I even got the chop sticks in my left hand. Yeah, that's right. I am gettin good. As you can see, life is still wonderful. I still can't believe that I am in Hong Kong, let alone that I have been here only a month and a half. It doesn't hit me until I go to my balcony and look out into the night. Big Thanks to my Mother who sent me newspaper clippings of BSC's first football game. Much love to my Fraternity brothas that marched on Jena, LA. Until I blog again. Keep Praying For Me.

A Glimpse at Labels

Have you ever realized how easily we morph by simply changing our environment. For instance, in Birmingham, I am a Black-American, a sub-culture of American culture. If I attend a national convention of some sort, I become a Black-Southerner, assuming that the event is mixed. On the other hand, if the event is My Fraternity's national convention then I am just a southerner. This pattern continues once I leave America. In London, at first glance, I was Black, just another member of the African Diaspora, until I spoke then the American label was quickly added. In Africa, at least the part I visited, I was Black, a long lost brother or that family member from out of town that doesn't do things the way most of the family is use to, be is still loved. Now, in China(HK), I am once again a man of the African Diaspora, but then I become a little bit more. I become Western, a product of that beast that was built on the destruction of other cultures. Just think about it. I will probably ramble about this later.


On another note, there hasn't been much activity with me this week. I have continued assisting students with speaking English, which is still very refreshing. I actually had one student that left me smiling uncontrollably, because she was just that pleasant. I have nearly finished designing a informal tutorial session about creative writing that I am going to teach. I have been attending a Korean church with some colleagues the past two Sundays, not to mention I sat in on a Hindu service about three weeks ago. I am keeping the cultural experiences going. Here are some random photos to show that I continue to smile daily.

The last two pictures are from a Hall banquet that was held last week. I and two others in my group had to participate in guess that tune game. So, they gave each of us head phones and we listened to a Cantonese song, and had to sing the song to the audience while the audience threw out guesses. It was very funny, I wished I taped it. Well, that's all I got. Until I blog again.

My Search for Culture: If only my intellect and heart knew what my blood knows

"I was born Black, and now I live Black.

I will die Black, because I am Black.

Black is what I have to be. I can never

not be Black or change that fact and at times

I can't even be me. I have to be Black." (excerpt,
BUM)

In the life of a Black Male, there are countless moments where he may be left confused about his cultural identity. Some tell him to be American, because that is where he was born. A few may even say, just be Black or African, because America never really wanted you there as an equal, and some parts and people in areas of power still don't. And then, some say just be an amalgamation, African-American, because that is the best definition of you. However, how do you be American when you keep getting a message that some don't want you there (Jena 6; Augusta, GA; Over the Mountain communities just keep re-zoning those school districts eventually the Niggas and Wetbacks will get the idea). And, how does one be African when you really don't fit into that modern day culture, regardless of how deep your heart sinks when you step on that continent; not to mention, you don't even know which part of African culture you can call kin to. Trust me, it makes the normal journey of a youth far more difficult. I have really been pondering my own cultural leanings, because here I always get asked which part of Africa my family is from, and it truly hurts not to be able to give an answer. One student even asked if I was born in Africa, which struck me as a very interesting and unexpected question; but, I must remember African-American is a conjunction of my Nationality and Ethnicity. Ethnicity is a question that very few Blacks in American can answer precisely. They can only respond in broad terms. I will probably touch more on this in the later months or whenever I feel culturally frustrated or excited.

Why am I rambling in this touchy fashion? Well, I have been on a search for a sufficient depiction of Chinese culture. Specifically, I have been wondering how Hong Kong fits into the cultural schema of being Chinese. I am extremely interested in how the two regions interact with each other socially or culturally. One student has already said that HK Chinese may view themselves as somewhat superior to Mainland Chinese. I honestly haven't sense that strongly yet, but I will keep an eye out.

So, how do I go about discovering Chinese culture? Well, duh! I hang out with local students. I have been very fortunate to have wonderful people thrown in my path. Last Saturday, my good friend Shanita and I left HKIEd and journeyed an hour and 40 minutes to Lantau Island to see a big statue of Buddha. We didn't go alone, Rachel, Chriss and Claudia acted as our local guides for the evening. The advantages of traveling with locals is that you find cheaper and better ways to get to the places you want to go. Now, if I was trying to get to the big Buddha by myself, I would have just taken the subway all the way there, which would have cost me about $70 HK. Instead, we took two buses, which was half the price, took a little longer, but the scenery on the way was beautiful.

Quick background info: Rachel is from HK, Chriss is from Guang Zhou, China, which is very close to the border, and Claudia is from Shanghai. While on this hour long bus ride, we simply chatted about each other: family, culture, and anything else we could think of. They had questions we had questions, and it was just a true cultural exchange moment throughout the entire evening.

We had to walk up over 250 stairs to get to the summit (Jesus would probably make me walk farther, and put a big lesson behind it as well). The statue is very serene; and when you get up close Buddha's face, posture, and hand gesture utters peacefulness and calm. We walked around for a good bit, because there are smaller statues surrounding Buddha offering gifts to him, as well as a musuem inside the base.

Below is a picture of me with Claudia and Shanita.

Of course, the Buddha was a real tourist thing to do, but it was necessary. We left great Buddha, and headed for the Fishing Village, which is a very cultural area in HK, perhaps a place that many don't expect to see. When one thinks of HK, they probably only think about Hong Kong Island, which is the City, but north in the New Territories, where I live, it's much older and more rural.

Here is a picture of Chriss, girl sitting next to me, and Claudia again. In order to take a tour of the fishing village, you have to get on a boat that will take you through the village, and even a little out to sea to search for Dolphins.

I told Chriss that Americans would probably consider these low income housing. But, she quickly corrected and said no. These people live here because of culture and tradition, not because they have to. In fact, you will discover in HK that there are many areas that seem run down on the outside, but are sometimes glamorous on the inside. Some people don't move, they just renovate.

Here is a picture of us slightly out to sea, where we did indeed see some dolphins. We actually saw about two or three I think. We didn't see them well, just their backs suddenly protruding from the water. Now I can say that I have seen dolphins in the wild, that's going to take some time to process. The next picture has no story, it is just for my mother, because she loves elephant ears. I can remember her owning some elephant ear plants when I was younger. Mom, you should come here they are everywhere we go actually.

Now that I have given you a glimpse of my HK excursions so far, I want to tell you a little about my work. I already mentioned that I am an Assistant in a Human Development course, and that is going well. On top of that, I assisted in two tutoring sessions, one focusing on speaking english, and the other on academic writing in english. I will also have to construct my own tutoring lessons, which of course will be based on creative writing. During the speaking tutoring sessions, I was not much help, because my knowledge of linguistics is zero. I basically sat there and smiled while the Graduate English Teacher (GET) did all the work. The writing one was right up my ghetto, and I had tons of fun working with the students as well as the GET. We did run into one problem with synonyms. We were writing down synonyms for the word "use" on the board, and we got to the word "utilize." Now, on the worksheet it was spelled in British manner "utilise." I quickly protested, "no, that is not how you spell it." The students understand that British English and American English are sometimes very different. My GET friend and the students inquired, which spelling was more correct. Of course, I said "The American spelling," and that is what they wrote down after we all got a good laugh out of it. Therefore, in ten years from now if British English has vanished from the face of HK, you will no the cause.

In addition to such sessions, I must also sit for an hour or so at the help desk where students can come practice their English. I had two wonderful help desk sessions, one with Eileen, who is from Shanghai I think, and another with Elaine, who is from an area in the mainland China that I haven't heard of. Eileen and I talk about education and here current modules, especially the Human Development course, because she is in it and struggling to keep up with the language. We also talked about family, and how she feels being so far from home. In the end, she said that normally she is nervous when speaking English, but that I made her feel very comfortable (go ahead and cry, I wanted to as well). Elaine and I talked more about our home towns and the culture their. She drew a map of China and began pointing to different areas and telling me about them. She was very good in geography. In fact, I drew a map of the US, and showed her where B'ham, AL is, and she showed me where LA, Texas, and Miami are. We even talked about the weather in each place, and the Latino culture in America. I had a great time.

Wrapping things up (it is actually somewhat exhausting writing these things), below is a picture of me in my office space. Anyway, I will continue my search for my understanding of my own cultural heritage, as well as the Chinese heritage that I am so fortunate to be a part of in my 24th year of life. The experiences just keep getting better and better, and I can only tell you so much on this blog site. Well friends, until I blog again.